What Are Friends For?

What Are Friends For?

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x fem!Reader Summary: Timmy catches reader masturbating... Friends help each other out, right? ;)  Warnings: Smut (fingering & oral), being caught masturbating, friends with benefits, no aftercare. Word count: 711

It was your own fault, really. 

You knew Timmy was coming over, but you figured you still had a good fifteen minutes or so before he got there. So you found yourself in bed, pants off, in your own world of pleasure.

You were so lost in the moment that you didn’t even hear the front door open or the steps coming down the hall. 

“(Y/N), I brought some Chinese food and-” He cut himself off as he took in the scene before him. You silently cursed yourself for leaving the bedroom door open. 

“Timmy!” you exclaimed, grabbing the nearest blanket to cover yourself. But it was too late; he’d already seen everything. “You-you’re early.”

“Yeah, I…” The words died in his throat. He didn’t even know what to say. His eyebrows were raised and he blinked a few times. He looked from your eyes down to the blanket now covering you. He licked his lips, his voice dropping considerably. “Do you, uh… need help with that?”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out.  Your cheeks heated. You’d always thought Timmy was attractive, but you were just friends… You’d never thought of him like that… 

Still, you found yourself saying, “W… would you?”

He nodded, coming closer to you. “Of course. What are friends for?” he smirked mischievously. Your heart rate quickened as he knelt in front of you, pulling the blanket off your legs and haphazardly discarding it. You leaned back on your elbows. He licked his lips as his gaze dropped to your heat, now completely exposed for him. A wave of excitement surged through you. 

Without giving it a second thought, he leaned down and licked a long stripe up your slit. You gasped at the feeling of his warm tongue on your sensitive pussy. 

He ran his fingers over your slit a few times before sticking the middle one in, looking up at you to gauge your reaction. If you appeared even the slightest bit uncomfortable, he’d stop.

But you weren’t uncomfortable at all. In fact, you wanted more. Your mouth dropped open and you lifted your hips, trying to give him a better angle. He pumped in and out a few times, eliciting a tiny whimper from you. 

When he added another finger, you could no longer support your weight and dropped onto your back on the bed. His long fingers curled upward inside you, hitting the spot that always made your legs shake. 

He tried a third finger and cursed to himself as he found that you were almost too tight for it. Hearing the whispered “fuck” leave his lips was almost enough to make you cum on the spot. He was enjoying this just as much as you. 

He knew you were holding back a moan, so he moved faster, trying to coax it out of you. It worked, and the noise escaped your throat. He rewarded you by sucking your clit. You placed a hand over your mouth, holding back a scream as the pleasure built inside you. 

The base of your spine began to tingle and you instinctively reached down, tangling your fingers in his curls. His fingers moved even faster, practically slamming in and out of you, and as he ran his tongue over your sensitive clit, you fell over the edge.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as your orgasm coursed through you. He didn’t pull out until your pussy finally stopped fluttering around his fingers.

He flopped onto his back next to you. It almost seemed like he’d momentarily forgotten you were there, his attention fixed on his fingers and your essence coating them. He blinked at them dreamily, twisting his hand and taking them in at every angle. Finally, he sucked them into his mouth, cleaning them off with his tongue. The mere image of him sucking your wetness off his fingers almost made you cum again. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring your taste. 

Finally, he turned onto his side, looking at you. Your eyes flicked down to his jeans, which were undeniably constricted. You swallowed, thinking he’d probably be expecting something in return. 

But instead, he simply said, “The foods’ getting cold,” before pulling himself to his feet and exiting the room.