What Are Friends For? (Part 2)

What Are Friends For? (Part 2)

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader Summary: Reader gets a chance to return the favor ;) Warnings: Smut (fingering, handjob, oral - male receiving), language, friends with benefits, no aftercare. Word count: 959

You were afraid things would be awkward between you and Timmy, but that couldn’t be more wrong. 

After your… encounter, you’d put on a pair of pants and met him in the living room. You both ate your food on the couch and watched a movie, talking and laughing like it hadn’t even happened. You were relieved that it hadn't changed your friendship.

Except for the fact that when he went home that night, you masturbated to the thought of his fingers inside you at least a hundred times. You wondered if he was doing the same. The thought of him fucking his hand and thinking of you made you cum extra hard.

Your lives were busy. You managed to hang out with him a few more times in the next couple weeks, but nothing sexual happened again. You didn’t want to push it and risk making things weird between the two of you, so you let it go.

“What are we watching?” Timothée called from the living room.

“I don’t know, whatever you want,” you called back as you practically emptied all of the snacks from your kitchen cabinets.

He sighed loudly as you entered the living room, arms full of junk food. “You decide.” This was an argument you two had often.

“I don’t know.” You dropped everything onto the coffee table.

“Just pick something,” he pleaded.

You grabbed the remote and plopped down on the couch beside him. You didn’t even know which streaming service to flip through. You tried Netflix. Nothing.

As you were waiting for Hulu to load, Timmy shifted in his seat for what had to have been the third time in under two minutes. You turned to him, wondering what his deal was. He met your gaze immediately. His eyes were wide and his cheeks were tinted a light shade of pink.

Like he’d been caught.

You had no idea what was going on until your eyes just happened to flick down and you took in the bulge in his pants. A long moment passed as he tried to gauge your reaction and you tried to figure out what had triggered this or how to even react. Finally, you cleared your throat, not wanting to appear too excited.

“Do you need help with that?” You nodded down to the tightness in his jeans.

He smirked a little, remembering your encounter all those weeks ago. “Would you?”

“What are friends for?” Remote forgotten, you tucked yourself beside him and reached down, feeling him over his jeans first. You fought back a smirk; you knew he’d be big. He exhaled, his head dropping back onto the cushions even though you’d barely touched him yet. You made quick work of unzipping his jeans and pulling him out of his boxers. 

You thought of all the nights you’d laid in bed, imagining Timmy’s cock, and now here it was, hard in your hand. Your pussy was already dripping as you ran your hand up and down his length.

You rubbed your legs together to create some friction. Timmy noticed your neediness and reached his hand into your pajama pants until you felt slight pressure on your clit. You gasped, automatically opening your legs in search of more pleasure, which he was happy to provide.

You pumped even faster, hoping you’d be rewarded for it, and you were. He slid a finger inside you. You bucked your hips, wanting more. You could no longer contain your excitement; you’d been dreaming of this for weeks. He matched his pace to yours, fingering you at the same speed you were using on him. 

Your chest rose and fell rapidly. Despite your building orgasm, you forced yourself to focus on pleasuring him. He seemed to be doing the same, adding another finger. You were both locked in a pleasure-filled standoff.

He increased his pace, rubbing your clit with his thumb and effectively throwing you over the edge. A whimper escaped your throat as you came around his fingers for the second time. You could feel his dick twitch in your hand as your pussy convulsed.

You pulled his hand from your pants and guided it to your mouth, sucking on the cum-covered digits before he had the chance to do so first. His jaw dropped as he watched you swirl your tongue around his fingers, tasting yourself. It was undeniably hot. He involuntarily bucked his hips once, simply unable to help himself. He was close.

Whether he knew it or not, he’d made you cum several times the last few weeks. Now, you needed to return the favor. You dropped to your knees, intending to replace his fingers with his cock.

“Fuck, (Y/N),” he strained. He nearly came just from the sight of you kneeling before him. You licked his tip, making him curse again. “Feels so fucking good.”

Excitement coursed through your veins; you liked when he praised you. He was struggling to keep his composure, and the little noises of pleasure that managed to escape him only excited you even more.

You took his cock almost entirely in your mouth, licking the underside and swirling your tongue around the tip, knowing it would be the end of him.

He looked god-like as he came; better than you ever could have imagined. His back arched and his hands clenched around the material of the couch cushion. Your pussy clenched again at the sight and taste of him coating your mouth.

You rested your head on his thigh, committing his fucked-out expression to memory as he tried to slow his breathing.

“Timmy?” you asked after a few moments.

“Yeah, (Y/N)?”

You stood, wiping the side of your mouth and grabbing the remote once more. “I wanna watch Euphoria.”