best friend!jake x f!reader - REM

cw: explicit content a wet dream sex MDNI 18+ ENHA HARD HOURS flufffffy at the end

wc: 3.3K

-

Jake had always just been Jake. Your best friend. Your couch-sharing, video game-obsessed, cereal-stealing best friend. There was never anything weird about sleepovers with him. You’d done it a dozen times before—falling asleep in the same bed after a movie night, limbs tangled like siblings, breath evening out in the warm dark. 

That was just you and Jake. Comfortable. Safe. Normal.

Until this time.

You didn’t even realize you were dreaming until the heat wrapped around you like a second skin. In the dream, it was still Jake—but not the way you knew him. He wasn’t just teasing you over cereal anymore. He was behind you, mouth hot against your ear, voice lower, rougher. You could feel his hands sliding up your thighs, his breath telling you to keep quiet. 

You were soaked, aching, grinding back into him like your life depended on it. And then he said it—low and filthy: “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

dilf next door !jake x freak f!reader - Freak like me

cw : m!receiving oral begging, grindin on his shoes, bondage, face slapping, sub!jake until its not, powerplay dom!jake, pussy slapping. 18+ MDNI

wc : 3.7K

a/n: sorry again.

-

Jake’s fat cock is in your throat.

One hand grips the back of his thigh, the other fists his sweatpants at the waistband, just above where his shirt has ridden up. He’s leaking like he hasn’t been touched in years, twitching against your tongue every time you swallow.

 His head is tipped back against the kitchen cabinet, mouth parted, chest rising with short, broken breaths. His fingers are white-knuckled where they dig into the counter behind him, and he can’t keep his hips from twitching forward, not even when he’s trying so fucking hard to stay still.

You know this because Jake is the kind of man who tries. He always tries. Tries to be polite, tries to be soft. Tries to swallow it down when his gaze lingers on your thighs, your chest, your lips wrapped around a popsicle in the summer heat. Tries to keep his tone friendly when you wave from your driveway in tiny gym shorts.

bf!Jake and That Goddamn Tongue - FLUFF SMUT CRACK

-

Jake Sim does not keep his tongue in his mouth. He simply refuses.

It’s like his default reaction to life. He’ll be sitting there, scrolling his phone, fully unaware that his tongue is just… out. Flat. Resting against his bottom lip. For no reason.

You watch him, utterly baffled, before finally sighing, “Do you need water?”

Jake blinks. “Huh?”

“You look dehydrated,” you point out. “Your tongue is just—out. Like an idiot puppy.”

He glances down as if he forgot it was even there, then shrugs. “Oh.”

“Put it back.”

Jake grins instead, sticking it out even further, slow and teasing. “Make me.”

He just leaves it there. Not just for a second—no, fully just exists like that.

You glare. He raises an eyebrow. You squint. He tilts his head. Tongue still out.

“Jake.”

“Hm?” he hums, tongue still obnoxiously flat against his lip.

You exhale. Hard. “Do you think that’s normal?”

Jake just smiles wider, tongue still visible. It’s smug. He’s smug. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

It works.

Every. Single. Time.

Touché - DATING YOU TO DISTRACT YOU BUT GETS DISTRACTED FIRST

Academic Rival!Jake x f!Reader (Smut, Crack, Fluff) MDNI 18+ ENHA HARD HOURS

-

You drum your fingers against the desk, watching Professor Martinez pace at the front of the lecture hall. The midterm papers are stacked neatly in his arms, and you can practically feel the anxiety radiating off the two hundred students packed into the room.

But you're not anxious. Not really.

You know exactly what score awaits you—the same score you've received on every major assessment since freshman year: the highest in the class.

Your eyes drift across the lecture hall to where Jake Sim sits, surrounded by his usual entourage. Even now, minutes before receiving a grade that could make or break their GPA, they're laughing at something he's said. The sound of his rich laughter carries across the room, drawing more than a few admiring glances.

Jake Sim. Campus golden boy. The kind of person who walks into a room and immediately owns it. The kind of student professors mention in other classes. The kind of face that appears on university brochures—which it literally does, as he's been the unofficial "face" of the university's marketing materials since sophomore year.

He's also the only person who's ever come close to beating your scores.

GOLDEN BOY!

golden boy hard dom!Jake x masturbation addict f!reader

You woke up soaked. Literally, fucking soaked, the sheets beneath you damp with sweat and slick from how hard you’d been grinding against them in your sleep. It was always like this—an unbearable need that gripped you before you were even fully conscious. And you knew exactly who caused it.

Jake Sim.

The moment your hazy mind conjured up his name, your pussy gave a hard throb, as if your body was starved for him. It didn’t matter that you’d never even held a real conversation. All that mattered was that he existed—perfect, unattainable—and you were so pathetically desperate for him that you’d turned it into a daily routine.

With a shaky sigh, you slid your hand under the thin waistband of your panties, fingers pressing into the sticky mess already pooling there. You hissed out a curse at how sensitive you were, thighs twitching as your digits smeared your own arousal around your clit.

Jake is whining.

Not just soft little noises—no, he’s whimpering, breathless and wrecked, his whole body shaking beneath you. His glasses are completely fogged up, his curls a wild mess against the pillows, and his tie—the only thing he’s wearing besides those useless, slipping lenses—is clenched in your fist, yanking him just enough to keep him grounded.

And you haven’t even moved yet.

You’re just sitting there, wrapped around him, tight and warm, not letting him do a thing. He’s gasping like he’s already been edged for hours, his fingers flexing like he doesn’t know whether to grab your hips or beg for permission first.

But he knows better.

“P-please,” he sobs, voice so high and desperate it makes you throb. “I—I can’t—”

You hum, tilting your head. “Can’t what, baby?”

His chest heaves, every muscle in his body tensed like he’s holding himself back with everything he has.

“C-can’t just—just sit here,” he stammers. “I need—I n-need to be useful.”

That makes you smile. “Oh?”

Jake nods frantically, his glasses slipping even lower. He’s so gone, so fucked-out already from nothing but the thought of being good for you.

“Wanna make you feel good,” he gasps. “Please, baby, let me—let me be your good boy—”

You tug his tie, forcing him to look up at you, and he lets out the most wrecked little sound.

“You are my good boy, baby,” you purr.

His entire body shudders, his cock twitching inside you, his breath completely stolen.

“Then p-please—please, mommy—”

Oh, that gets him. He whimpers so sweetly, his lip trembling, his thighs clenching beneath you.

“Please—use me—please—”

He sounds like he’s about to cry, so desperate to please you, to do anything for you, to be good.

You finally roll your hips, and Jake breaks.

His mouth falls open on a silent gasp, his lips trembling, pink and swollen from all the nervous chewing he’s been doing. His eyebrows draw together so tight, his whole face scrunching in pure, overwhelming pleasure, his glasses slipping lower on his nose, completely fogged-up and useless.

And then the noises start.

“Oh—oh my God—ohh—”

It’s so high and breathy, so sweetly wrecked, the kind of noise that makes your whole body throb. His eyes are fluttering, half-lidded and glazed over, but he’s trying so hard to keep them open, to look at you, to watch you use himjust like he begged for.

“F-fuck, oh—baby—oh my God, oh—”

He can’t even string a sentence together, his voice breaking on every word. His lips part wider, like he’s about to moan, but it just comes out as a high, breathless whimper, his whole body jerking beneath you as you grind down hard.

His head tilts back against the pillows, exposing his pretty throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing wildly as he swallows down another wrecked little sob. His hands grip the sheets so tight, but his fingers are twitching—like he wants to touch you so bad but knows he shouldn’t unless you tell him to.

“Ohh—ohhh, baby, I—” His voice catches, his chest heaving, his eyebrows twitching together again as he tries so hard to hold on, but you can feel him already trembling, already falling apart.

“M’gonna—ohhh—m’gonna—”

His lips quiver, eyes rolling back for just a second before snapping forward again, desperate to keep watching you.

You grab his tie, yank him up slightly, and his mouth falls open in a perfect little “O”, a helpless, broken moan tumbling out of him.

“Fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck—baby, I—please, I—”

He’s so close, so wrecked, his face twisted in pure, desperate pleasure as you ride him like you own him.

Honestly ?

You do.