Fic: Keeps Me Waiting
Title: Keeps Me Waiting
Author: oomnydevvotchka
Fandom: ICarly
Pairing: Sam/Freddie
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,998
Warnings: Unbeta'd
Summary: Fills the bondage square on my kink_bingo card. Shameless porn wherein Sam likes to tie Freddie up and ride him.
A/N: Re-posting some of my old fic. Can also be found on AO3 here.
The first time that Sam and Freddie had sex, they were seventeen years old, and they weren’t dating. They had tried that already, about a year before that first time, and it hadn’t gone well at all. Their dynamic just didn’t work with dating - any affection came off as false without their usual underlying antagonism.
It was that same thing that threw off the first time they had sex. They were both virgins, and had bought so completely into the Hollywood movie storybook idea of what sex should be, that it was a disaster. Both were too nervous, too tentative, to go for what they really wanted.
***
The second time Sam and Freddie had sex, they were twenty years old, and they weren’t dating. That time, though, neither of them were quite so innocent any more. A year at college, away from parents, each other, and Carly, had allowed them to grow up a little, grow into themselves, and realize that, just maybe, there was more than one way to do these things.
(Really, Sam was kinda pissed at herself for not figuring it out sooner. You’d think that Samantha Puckett, who could beat up any boy at the age of three, would just intrinsically know that she should take control in the bedroom, too. Just because she was tough, though, didn’t mean that she didn’t have her share of hang-ups. At least, that’s what she told herself.)
***
The third time Sam and Freddie had sex, they were still twenty, but they were dating. After the second time, when they were catching their breath, Freddie turned to Sam and asked the question that she was thinking herself. “You ever think we didn’t work out because we were trying too hard to be something that we weren’t?” Freddie’s brown eyes were large and serious, and Sam had to resist the urge to hit him over the head. She couldn’t help it, he was just so punchable.
“No shit, Fredward,” she answered. “Kinda why we broke up, remember?”
“That’s not why we broke up,” Freddie argued. “We broke up because both of us used to think that Carly was the number one authority on everything ever.”
Sam still loved Carly, but she couldn’t really argue with that - experience had taught her that Carly didn’t know what she was talking about 85 percent of the time. “Well, yeah,” she allowed, shifting slightly so one of her bare legs was thrown casually over Freddie’s. “But we broke up because our personalities don’t exactly make for a loving relationship.” Sam’s voice went high and mocking at the end of her sentence.
“You mean your personality doesn’t make for a loving relationship.” Freddy mutters.
Sam whacked him over the head, not really hard enough to hurt.
Freddie was used to this treatment, so he just batted her hands away and continued. “What I mean is, what if we were trying too hard to be what we thought a couple should be? Remember the pet names?”
Sam shuddered, remembering how they had almost constantly referred to each other as ‘baby’. “Oh Christ, don’t remind me. I don’t even know why we did that.”
“Exactly!” Freddie exclaimed. “We were trying to be what we thought a couple should be.”
“You sound like a dork, Dork,” Sam said. Freddie’s words made sense, though. Yeah, she hadn’t really had a serious relationship since Freddie, but she couldn’t even imagine herself acting that way with any other guy.
They were silent for a moment, until Sam spoke up again. “We should’ve just acted like ourselves,” she mutters. “Only with added sex.”
“When we were sixteen?” Freddie moved his head enough to cock an eyebrow at her.
“Hey, we fucked when we were seventeen, remember?” Sam countered.
“Do you have to refer to it like that?” Freddie complained.
“Sorry, we made love when we were seventeen.” Sam rolled onto her back and threw an arm over her face. When she next spoke, all the sarcasm was gone from her tone. “So, are you saying we should, like, try again, or…”
“I guess so?” Freddie moved to his back as well, but kept his hands clasped on his stomach. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen, right?”
“The sex wasn’t too bad, I guess,” Sam said.
Freddie just looked at her.
“Ah, fuck it,” Sam decided. She moved to straddle Freddie’s hips, so quickly that he barely had time to move his hands out of her way. “Let’s do it.”
***
When Sam and Freddie were twenty-one, they had lost track of the number of times they’d had sex, and they were still dating. And it worked, better than either of them could have imagined. Yeah, they had explosive fights about once a week, but hey, at least no one could accuse them of being boring.
(“We’re like Ron and Hermione,” Freddie decided.
“Ew, don’t compare me to that stuck up little geek.”
“I meant that you’re Ron, and I’m Hermione. I’m clearly the smart one in this relationship,” Freddie smirked.
Sam aimed a blow at him, which he ducked. “At least you admit you’re a girl!” she yelled at his back.)
And the sex? The sex just got better and better.
***
Freddie came home from class to find his apartment completely deserted. He lived with two guys who didn’t leave the house unless they were absolutely forced to, so their absence could mean only one thing: Sam was here. “Do you really have to scare my roommates away every time you come here? Also, a little warning would’ve been nice!”
“Not my fault your roommates are pussies,” Sam sing-songed back. She appeared at the doorway, clad in a tank top and a pair of his boxers, and he really couldn’t be mad at her when she looked like that. Not that he was really mad at her anyway. He didn’t even like his roommates that much, and he had known what he’d been getting himself into when he got back together with her.
Sam didn’t even acknowledge the second part of Freddie’s complaint, crossing the room in one step to pull him into a dirty kiss. “Speaking of pussies…” she whispered against his lips.
Freddie groaned. “You’re an awful person.”
Sam shrugged, then turned around and walked in the direction of Freddie’s bedroom, confident that he would follow.
He did, of course, and as soon as he pulled the door shut behind him, she was on him, a whirlwind of blonde hair and sexual frustration. As always, their kiss was fierce, both of them attempting to gain the upper hand, even though they both knew how it would end.
Sam pulled away just long enough to take her tank top off and unhook her bra, and Freddie took his own shirt off as well, wanting to feel her tits against his bare chest. He struggled a little bit, though, still clumsy after all these years, and Sam, like always, took complete advantage of the situation.
In a flash, Freddie found himself flat on his back, his arms yanked over his head as Sam used his shirt to secure his wrists to the headboard. “Aww, c’mon,” he complained.
“Shut up, you like it,” was Sam’s only response, and she squirmed her way out of the boxers, leaving her completely naked, and Freddie still mostly dressed.
Sam was undeniably hot, had been undeniably hot for as long as he could remember, all curves and muscle as opposed to the stick thinness of girls like Carly, and the sight of her naked body always inspired the same reaction in him. His dick, which had been half-hard since he realized that his roommates were gone, stiffened fully, so quickly that it made his head spin.
Sam noticed this, of course, and let a smirk steal over her face as she began to pace around the foot of the bed. “So, Fredweird,” she started. “What should we do today?”
Oh, God. Freddie had a lot of experience in this department, and he knew that when Sam started talking dirty, it meant nothing good for him.
“I could blow you,” Sam suggested, tapping a finger against her lips and staring theatrically off into space. “But I really want to get off. So maybe I’ll sit on your face.”
Freddie couldn’t help a strangled moan at that idea.
“I’m not afraid to gag you,” Sam warned.
“Well, you can’t sit on my face if you do that, can you?” Freddy said, trying (and mostly failing) to regain some control of the situation.
Sam considered this for a second, then shrugged. “Worth it.” She picked up the tank top she’d been wearing, and shoves it unceremoniously into Freddie’s mouth, tying it loosely behind his head. Her hands traveled to his jeans, flicking the button open and slowly pulling the zipper down. “I’ve decided,” she says. “First, I’m gonna get myself off, then, if you’re lucky, I’ll ride you.” That apparently settled, she pulled off his pants and boxers in one smooth motion, and settled herself on top of his thighs, knees spread to either side.
It was a great angle for Freddy, really, and much as he complained when she pulled stuff like this, she had been right earlier: he did love it.
Sam took ahold of his dick with one hand, giving it a long stroke from root to tip. It was too dry to feel really good, but Freddie would take what he could get at the moment, honestly. When Sam got into one of these moods, there was no telling what she would do. It was completely possible that she would get herself off and leave him blue balled.
Sam lifted up onto her knees, and positioned Freddie’s dick so she was sitting on it, but it wasn’t inside her - this position meant that she could rub her clit against his dick without giving him any sort of relief whatsoever. She started to move, rolling her hips in a slow grind, and Freddie’s eyes immediately went to her chest.
Her tits looked great like that, free to bounce along with her movements, and he went to touch them before he remembered that his hands were tied. He gave a groan of frustration from behind the gag, and Sam smirked again. It wasn’t as effective as her earlier smirk, though - while Freddie had been concentrating on her chest, she had begun to move her hips faster, and it was clear that her careful control was beginning to fall apart.
It only took a few more minutes for her to become desperate, throwing her head back and moaning, so dripping wet that Freddie could feel it on his dick. She only had to sneak a hand between them, rubbing herself a few times, before she came, her thighs clenching so tight around his that it was almost painful.
She stayed like that for a few seconds, just catching her breath, before she stumbled off him and went over to his nightstand. Freddie barely bit back a sound of triumph, knowing that Sam might change her mind if she heard him.
She returned and positioned herself over him again. Not wasting any time, she rolled the condom over him and sank down.
This time, Freddie didn’t even try to hold back his noises. It felt damn good, and he hadn’t seen Sam in so long, and this was going to be over ridiculously fast. Good thing Sam had already gotten herself off.
It seemed that, instead of taking the edge off and making her less interested in the sex, Sam’s orgasm had made her more desperate, because she reached over and untied Freddie’s hands, allowing him to rip the gag out of his mouth and flip them over, driving into her with single-minded purpose.
He had his pride, though, and so he made her come again, screaming, before he spilled into the condom and collapsed next to her.
Author: oomnydevvotchka
Fandom: ICarly
Pairing: Sam/Freddie
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,998
Warnings: Unbeta'd
Summary: Fills the bondage square on my kink_bingo card. Shameless porn wherein Sam likes to tie Freddie up and ride him.
A/N: Re-posting some of my old fic. Can also be found on AO3 here.
The first time that Sam and Freddie had sex, they were seventeen years old, and they weren’t dating. They had tried that already, about a year before that first time, and it hadn’t gone well at all. Their dynamic just didn’t work with dating - any affection came off as false without their usual underlying antagonism.
It was that same thing that threw off the first time they had sex. They were both virgins, and had bought so completely into the Hollywood movie storybook idea of what sex should be, that it was a disaster. Both were too nervous, too tentative, to go for what they really wanted.
***
The second time Sam and Freddie had sex, they were twenty years old, and they weren’t dating. That time, though, neither of them were quite so innocent any more. A year at college, away from parents, each other, and Carly, had allowed them to grow up a little, grow into themselves, and realize that, just maybe, there was more than one way to do these things.
(Really, Sam was kinda pissed at herself for not figuring it out sooner. You’d think that Samantha Puckett, who could beat up any boy at the age of three, would just intrinsically know that she should take control in the bedroom, too. Just because she was tough, though, didn’t mean that she didn’t have her share of hang-ups. At least, that’s what she told herself.)
***
The third time Sam and Freddie had sex, they were still twenty, but they were dating. After the second time, when they were catching their breath, Freddie turned to Sam and asked the question that she was thinking herself. “You ever think we didn’t work out because we were trying too hard to be something that we weren’t?” Freddie’s brown eyes were large and serious, and Sam had to resist the urge to hit him over the head. She couldn’t help it, he was just so punchable.
“No shit, Fredward,” she answered. “Kinda why we broke up, remember?”
“That’s not why we broke up,” Freddie argued. “We broke up because both of us used to think that Carly was the number one authority on everything ever.”
Sam still loved Carly, but she couldn’t really argue with that - experience had taught her that Carly didn’t know what she was talking about 85 percent of the time. “Well, yeah,” she allowed, shifting slightly so one of her bare legs was thrown casually over Freddie’s. “But we broke up because our personalities don’t exactly make for a loving relationship.” Sam’s voice went high and mocking at the end of her sentence.
“You mean your personality doesn’t make for a loving relationship.” Freddy mutters.
Sam whacked him over the head, not really hard enough to hurt.
Freddie was used to this treatment, so he just batted her hands away and continued. “What I mean is, what if we were trying too hard to be what we thought a couple should be? Remember the pet names?”
Sam shuddered, remembering how they had almost constantly referred to each other as ‘baby’. “Oh Christ, don’t remind me. I don’t even know why we did that.”
“Exactly!” Freddie exclaimed. “We were trying to be what we thought a couple should be.”
“You sound like a dork, Dork,” Sam said. Freddie’s words made sense, though. Yeah, she hadn’t really had a serious relationship since Freddie, but she couldn’t even imagine herself acting that way with any other guy.
They were silent for a moment, until Sam spoke up again. “We should’ve just acted like ourselves,” she mutters. “Only with added sex.”
“When we were sixteen?” Freddie moved his head enough to cock an eyebrow at her.
“Hey, we fucked when we were seventeen, remember?” Sam countered.
“Do you have to refer to it like that?” Freddie complained.
“Sorry, we made love when we were seventeen.” Sam rolled onto her back and threw an arm over her face. When she next spoke, all the sarcasm was gone from her tone. “So, are you saying we should, like, try again, or…”
“I guess so?” Freddie moved to his back as well, but kept his hands clasped on his stomach. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen, right?”
“The sex wasn’t too bad, I guess,” Sam said.
Freddie just looked at her.
“Ah, fuck it,” Sam decided. She moved to straddle Freddie’s hips, so quickly that he barely had time to move his hands out of her way. “Let’s do it.”
***
When Sam and Freddie were twenty-one, they had lost track of the number of times they’d had sex, and they were still dating. And it worked, better than either of them could have imagined. Yeah, they had explosive fights about once a week, but hey, at least no one could accuse them of being boring.
(“We’re like Ron and Hermione,” Freddie decided.
“Ew, don’t compare me to that stuck up little geek.”
“I meant that you’re Ron, and I’m Hermione. I’m clearly the smart one in this relationship,” Freddie smirked.
Sam aimed a blow at him, which he ducked. “At least you admit you’re a girl!” she yelled at his back.)
And the sex? The sex just got better and better.
***
Freddie came home from class to find his apartment completely deserted. He lived with two guys who didn’t leave the house unless they were absolutely forced to, so their absence could mean only one thing: Sam was here. “Do you really have to scare my roommates away every time you come here? Also, a little warning would’ve been nice!”
“Not my fault your roommates are pussies,” Sam sing-songed back. She appeared at the doorway, clad in a tank top and a pair of his boxers, and he really couldn’t be mad at her when she looked like that. Not that he was really mad at her anyway. He didn’t even like his roommates that much, and he had known what he’d been getting himself into when he got back together with her.
Sam didn’t even acknowledge the second part of Freddie’s complaint, crossing the room in one step to pull him into a dirty kiss. “Speaking of pussies…” she whispered against his lips.
Freddie groaned. “You’re an awful person.”
Sam shrugged, then turned around and walked in the direction of Freddie’s bedroom, confident that he would follow.
He did, of course, and as soon as he pulled the door shut behind him, she was on him, a whirlwind of blonde hair and sexual frustration. As always, their kiss was fierce, both of them attempting to gain the upper hand, even though they both knew how it would end.
Sam pulled away just long enough to take her tank top off and unhook her bra, and Freddie took his own shirt off as well, wanting to feel her tits against his bare chest. He struggled a little bit, though, still clumsy after all these years, and Sam, like always, took complete advantage of the situation.
In a flash, Freddie found himself flat on his back, his arms yanked over his head as Sam used his shirt to secure his wrists to the headboard. “Aww, c’mon,” he complained.
“Shut up, you like it,” was Sam’s only response, and she squirmed her way out of the boxers, leaving her completely naked, and Freddie still mostly dressed.
Sam was undeniably hot, had been undeniably hot for as long as he could remember, all curves and muscle as opposed to the stick thinness of girls like Carly, and the sight of her naked body always inspired the same reaction in him. His dick, which had been half-hard since he realized that his roommates were gone, stiffened fully, so quickly that it made his head spin.
Sam noticed this, of course, and let a smirk steal over her face as she began to pace around the foot of the bed. “So, Fredweird,” she started. “What should we do today?”
Oh, God. Freddie had a lot of experience in this department, and he knew that when Sam started talking dirty, it meant nothing good for him.
“I could blow you,” Sam suggested, tapping a finger against her lips and staring theatrically off into space. “But I really want to get off. So maybe I’ll sit on your face.”
Freddie couldn’t help a strangled moan at that idea.
“I’m not afraid to gag you,” Sam warned.
“Well, you can’t sit on my face if you do that, can you?” Freddy said, trying (and mostly failing) to regain some control of the situation.
Sam considered this for a second, then shrugged. “Worth it.” She picked up the tank top she’d been wearing, and shoves it unceremoniously into Freddie’s mouth, tying it loosely behind his head. Her hands traveled to his jeans, flicking the button open and slowly pulling the zipper down. “I’ve decided,” she says. “First, I’m gonna get myself off, then, if you’re lucky, I’ll ride you.” That apparently settled, she pulled off his pants and boxers in one smooth motion, and settled herself on top of his thighs, knees spread to either side.
It was a great angle for Freddy, really, and much as he complained when she pulled stuff like this, she had been right earlier: he did love it.
Sam took ahold of his dick with one hand, giving it a long stroke from root to tip. It was too dry to feel really good, but Freddie would take what he could get at the moment, honestly. When Sam got into one of these moods, there was no telling what she would do. It was completely possible that she would get herself off and leave him blue balled.
Sam lifted up onto her knees, and positioned Freddie’s dick so she was sitting on it, but it wasn’t inside her - this position meant that she could rub her clit against his dick without giving him any sort of relief whatsoever. She started to move, rolling her hips in a slow grind, and Freddie’s eyes immediately went to her chest.
Her tits looked great like that, free to bounce along with her movements, and he went to touch them before he remembered that his hands were tied. He gave a groan of frustration from behind the gag, and Sam smirked again. It wasn’t as effective as her earlier smirk, though - while Freddie had been concentrating on her chest, she had begun to move her hips faster, and it was clear that her careful control was beginning to fall apart.
It only took a few more minutes for her to become desperate, throwing her head back and moaning, so dripping wet that Freddie could feel it on his dick. She only had to sneak a hand between them, rubbing herself a few times, before she came, her thighs clenching so tight around his that it was almost painful.
She stayed like that for a few seconds, just catching her breath, before she stumbled off him and went over to his nightstand. Freddie barely bit back a sound of triumph, knowing that Sam might change her mind if she heard him.
She returned and positioned herself over him again. Not wasting any time, she rolled the condom over him and sank down.
This time, Freddie didn’t even try to hold back his noises. It felt damn good, and he hadn’t seen Sam in so long, and this was going to be over ridiculously fast. Good thing Sam had already gotten herself off.
It seemed that, instead of taking the edge off and making her less interested in the sex, Sam’s orgasm had made her more desperate, because she reached over and untied Freddie’s hands, allowing him to rip the gag out of his mouth and flip them over, driving into her with single-minded purpose.
He had his pride, though, and so he made her come again, screaming, before he spilled into the condom and collapsed next to her.