Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/485907.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      iCarly
  Relationship:
      Sam_Puckett/Spencer_Shay
  Character:
      Sam_Puckett, Spencer_Shay
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-08-19 Words: 1195
****** Take One ******
by author_abz
Summary
     Sam's hiding in Spencer's closet, finds that he is not sleeping, and
     things take an interesting turn.
Notes
     My first ever smut, written for a prompt from livejournal.com's
     caps_nevelocity. I apologize in advance.
Sam notices the clutter in Spencer's room hasn't changed any since their last
"Wake Up, Spencer!" She has to step over all the same stuff in the same order
to reach the small spot on his dresser she knows the small camera in her hand
will fit. Sam doesn't actually have to be quiet, she knows that Freddie's with
Carly right now so she won't come home, which is good because she's said no to
their planned prank more than once. Still, she's found some strange things in
the Shay loft before, and considers it best to remain quiet. It only takes her
a few seconds to properly affix it, but as she turns to sneak back out she
hears the front door open and slam shut, and in the split second it takes her
to decide to hide, she hears footsteps coming towards Spencer's room.
She dives into his half-open closet, hiding behind the door and a pile of dirty
clothes, unable to see anything, listening to the footsteps come into Spencer's
room, and she tries not to inhale the dirty sock smell. Sam can tell it's
Spencer by his footsteps, but she can hear the rustle of clothes and something
hits the floor, and there's definitely the clunk of shoes. Instead of the sound
of more footsteps as he leaves, she hears him plop onto his bed, moving around
for a minute before she can't hear anything else but a long low sigh.
Sam waits anxiously another few minutes as silence passes, and she can hear
some kind of low gravelly noise coming from Spencer. Her heart leaps at the
thought that he's fallen asleep and she can slip past unnoticed. Listening for
a few more seconds she hears that he's still, as far as she can tell, snoring,
so she stands up and peeks around the closet door, and she sees that he is not
sleeping.
Spencer's eyes are shut tight, head arching back onto his pillow, his shirt's
lying on the floor, but what draws Sam's eyes are his hands, wrapped around his
dick, moving up and down in frantic rhythm. Her eyes wander for a second as
shock runs through her body, freezing her on the spot, and she sees that his
boxers and jeans are lowered only to mid-thigh, and with his legs spread she
can see them tight around his legs. Somehow, the tightness spreads to Sam's
chest, constricting her breathing so that she can only breathe in short bursts.
The sounds Sam had thought were Spencer's snores turned out to be him muttering
under his breath to himself, groaning, and the sound sends chills down her
spine, alighting sharply in her groin. Watching the movements of his hand she
can feel her nipples hardening with another throb from her groin. All thought
of leaving is gone, as is any other thought, forgetting that Spencer's current
state would be almost easier to slip past than if he was sleeping. But even if
Sam wanted to move, she can't, not even her hands will move downwards for a
light massage right where she wants it, and where she’s done it before. Her
hands won't move to brush against her nipples she can feel are visible through
her shirt, frozen to the closet door.
All she can do is watch, Spencer's moaning accelerating her heartbeat, when he
lets out a gritty, frustrated, "C'mon!" And before Sam realizes it her feet
have taken her silently to the edge of his bed, hands outstretched. At once she
slides onto the bed, her hands joining, taking over for Spencer's, saying, "I
can help you with that," in a voice she's never used before.
Her small delicate hands have already gotten into a rhythm by the time Spencer
allows his eyes to fly open. Sam can't look at his dick now that it's in her
hands, and she watches his face switch in milliseconds to shock, but he quickly
leaves it behind as her fingers are working. He's breathing heavily, and his
eyes are almost clouded over in lust, but they stay locked on hers. She's
leaning forward eagerly, switching them so one lingers on the tip rubbing back
and forth, the other hand shakily stroking the underside of his dick, her
breathing still shaky and shallow.
Spencer sits up suddenly, and both of her hands take a tighter grip on his
dick, but she can't think anymore with his face in hers, and then he kisses
her, and her hands separate. One is determined to touch his face, trailing down
his chest, the other resolutely stroking his erection. Spencer gets his hands
underneath Sam's shirts and pushes them slowly upward, caressing her skin in
the process, but she beats him to it, tearing her shirts off in one swift
movement, going back to kissing Spencer feverishly. He pushes her backward onto
the bed, kissing her neck and trailing his hands up and down her stomach,
tantalizing close to her breasts, aching to be touched.
Abandoning his dick, hard against her thigh, she undoes her belt and pants,
Spencer's hand currently content to rest on the two, teasing. Sam lifts up her
hips to get her pants off, and Spencer's mouth is at the hollow in her neck,
one of his hands buried in her hair, the other gently squeezing her breast. She
moans slowly and Spencer echoes her a second later and an octave lower,
changing from the shallow, hurried breaths - the only sounds either was capable
of making.
Sam's neck is arched into Spencer, her hips coming back down, but Spencer keeps
his hips away from hers, focusing on her throat and breast, tracing circles
with his tongue and his thumb. It's good, it's great, and she lets out another
higher pitched moan in appreciation, but it's not enough. She's throbbing, and
impatiently she reaches out to his dick, bringing her hips up and pulling his
erection down, guiding him into her without hesitation.
She starts to move back and forth slowly, keeping her hand on his hip, moaning
louder and at a higher register. But Spencer had stopped his work at her neck
at the change and immediately pushes her back down into the bed, thrusting
forcibly into the time Sam had set. His breath is ragged as he moves over her,
but she keeps moaning, getting progressively higher and louder with every
thrust.
It doesn't take long before Spencer lets out a yell of, "God - Sam!" and a few
hearty thrusts later, Sam lifting up her hips to help her orgasm, moans out a
high and breathy "Spencer - fuck!" They both slow to a stop, Spencer stretching
out on top of Sam, who still doesn't have a whole lot of room left in her head
for thought, still throbbing, and aching, but she's satisfied, she's been
touched. Once she can breathe normally again she comments, "I think that's all
on tape now."
She can feel Spencer kiss her shoulder and smile against her skin, and feels a
leap in her heart that has nothing to do with her clit or her nipples. "I think
we might need a second take."
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