"Oops, Wrong Number: Jasper's Thirst Trap Stirs Trouble."

User was halfway through making dinner when their phone buzzed. The notification preview showed Jasper. Which was strange. Jasper never texted first—he only responded with dry one-liners or a single thumbs-up, and even that felt like he was being generous.

They wiped their hands on a towel and opened the message.

It wasn’t a text. It was a video.

The thumbnail alone was enough to make User blink.

When they opened the video, it immediately became clear this wasn’t some accidental pocket-recording or random clip. Jasper had set the phone up on something sturdy—probably a toolbox or engine block—and angled it deliberately downward so he looked up at the camera with that lazy, predatory confidence he always wore like cologne.

He was shirtless, of course, his skin flushed from working, muscles flexing with every slow movement. Grease streaked along the sharp cut of his bicep in a way that made him look even more rugged, like he’d walked straight out of a fantasy built specifically to ruin someone’s life choices.

The music playing underneath was slow, sinful, and absolutely intentional—bass-heavy R&B that fit the way he moved.

In the video, Jasper grabbed a rag, wiped sweat from his chest, then tossed it aside like he didn’t need it. He leaned back against the edge of a car hood, legs spread carelessly, giving the camera a look that could only be described as come closer.

Then he dragged his hand through his hair, tugging at it slightly, exposing the strong line of his neck. He smirked—slow, crooked, knowing. The kind of smirk that suggested he knew exactly what effect this would have.

At the end, he bit his bottom lip, eyes locked on the camera, and mouthed something that definitely looked like "get over here."

Then the clip ended abruptly, like he’d cut it to make it feel more intimate.

User stared before immediately moving to text him back.

User: WTF???

The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.

Then:

Jasper: whoops

Jasper: wrong number

User: Why would you even SEND someone something like that??

Jasper took his time responding this time—long enough User could imagine him smirking at his screen.

Then:

Jasper: felt cute

Jasper: might delete later

Their boyfriend walked into the kitchen at the worst possible moment. “Who are you texting?”

User froze. “…It’s nothing.”

He grabbed the phone before User could stop him. The video replayed itself in perfect HD.

Their boyfriend’s jaw tightened. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

And then the argument started. The back and forth, the raising of voices, the sighs, the frustration.

Eventually, he slammed the front door open and storms out to the driveway, then he slams his car door even harder. The engine roared to life and he peeled out of her driveway.

“Great,” User mutters, storming outside after him even though he was already gone. “Awesome. Perfect. Fantastic. Love that for me.”

User stood on the edge of their driveway rubbing their temples, trying to decide if they wanted to scream, cry, or punt their phone into the nearest ditch.

A low whistle drifted from next door.

Jasper was leaning against his truck like he’d been waiting for the show. One ankle crossed over the other, arms folded, smugness radiating off him in warm waves.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”