iCarly Inseparable
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ICarly: ICan't Do This - Chapter 7 free porn video
iCarly: iCan't Do This - Chapter 7: I Need To See
"Sam? It's... it's your mom again." Spencer says hesitantly, holding the phone.
I draw my knees up to me, resting my chin on them and shaking my head.
"Sam..." He sighs and puts the phone to his ear. "Sorry Mrs Puckett, Sam's... Sam's not... she's not... she can't talk right now." He ends the call, turning to look at me. It's all anyone seems to do these days. Look at me, with that mixture of sympathy and pity and... and fear. It makes me sick. "You've gotta talk to her sometime." Spencer's voice is soft, pleading.
"Uh uh. Don't wanna." I hug my arms tighter around my legs.
"Sam, she's your mom. She loves you."
I wince, sensing Carly moving beside me. "Leave Sam alone Spence. It's her fault." Carly's voice is hard, and there's this thing in it that I'd never heard before, until now. It's bitter and brittle and it makes me sad, because the Carly I know... the Carly I knew... she never spoke like that. But then, everyone's changed. Everything has... changed.
I'm living with Spencer and Carly now. Temporarily. Until everything gets sorted. Of the few relatives of mine that weren't in jail, none were fit to have a k!d. And it sounds great, y'know, it's what I always wanted, to be living with them, to never have to go home. But things never go the way I want. It's like I'm a pumpkin, around Halloween, and all the guts, all that orange stuff inside has been scooped out and thrown away. I feel hollow. It hurts.
And all the reasons why I never told Carly have come true. If I touch her she flinches, if I say her name she turns too fast, too eager, but she won't look me in the eye. Spencer doesn't know about what happened between us. I don't think Freddie does either. And it's bad enough, them treating me like a stained-glass Sam. I tease Fredbag, and I get nothing. He'll just smile and agree. And maybe it's that that's worst of all. That even Freddie, even Freddie feels sorry for me. I need to insult him. I need Carly to touch me without thinking. I need Spencer to treat me like his little s!ster. Then maybe things could get better, maybe then they could go back to normal.
But the way they keep treating me... it makes me feel worse, keeps me so aware of this big thing that happened. And I feel like maybe, maybe I could move past it, if only they'd let me y'know?
Steve's gone anyway. Locked up nice and safe. And you don't ever mess with a Puckett.
Uncle Carmine made sure of that.
So maybe not so safe.
And all the statements have been given, everything's almost done, all wrapped up nice and neat. But what about me? What happens to me? What, my mom gives a shit now? And just 'cause she's my mom I'm supposed to forgive her?
But things are better. I feel better. I guess. I don't have all this stuff bottled inside me. It's all out, and I'm still alive. And that means things have a chance of getting better, right? But all I really want is Carly. She's the only thing I want. I can deal with everything else, it's hard, but I can do it. It's Carly, just like it's always been Carly. She held my hand when I talked to police. She hugged me, she stroked my hair, she was a mother to me when I fell apart, when it hit me what had happened.
No, not a mother, a best friend.
Even though I did... what I did to her, even though she admitted she didn't know how to feel, she still stayed by my side. And then, when I was better, well, what can be called better, she moved away. Emotionally. Physically. And it was like she was on a hill, far away from me, and I couldn't reach her. I couldn't run fast enough, or yell loud enough to get through to her. And I'll see her looking at me, and I wish to God I could read what was going on in her face, wish I could decipher what she was thinking.
"Sam, dinner!" I move off the couch reluctantly. They try to be normal. Try to be happy. But it all feels a little f0rced y'know? "And tonight... spaghetti tacos!"
Freddie groans, "Again Spence? We had these last night!"
"And the night before!" Interjects Carly.
I sit at the table, grabbing a taco.
"Well what do you guys wanna do?"
Freddie shrugs, "I don't know. We could get take-out?"
Carly nods, "Yeah... pizza maybe? What do you think Sam?"
"Hmm?" I mumble through a mouthful of taco.
A ghost of a smile appears on Carly's face. "Or we could just have spaghetti tacos." She sits down beside me, grabbing the bowl of spaghetti.
Spencer waves his ladle at her, "That was my idea!" before sitting at the end of the table.
Freddie sighs, moving to sit down. "Hey Fredbag, get me a root beer!"
Freddie's lips tighten, and he smiles thinly. "Sure thing Sam."
I grit my teeth. "Oh come on! Grow a spine already Benson."
Freddie just smiles, sitting the root beer down in front of me before slipping into his chair. I exhale hard, dropping the remains of my taco. I feel something touch my hand softly, tentatively, and I look up. It's Carly. Giving me her, 'I know' look. And I feel my heart leap, because she hasn't done that since... well, then. And she understands, she knows that I need to have Freddie fight back. 'Cause what good is a punching bag if it's made out of jelly?
I feel a pang as her hand moves away, but at least it moved there in the first place. It's enough. And I feel a little happier, a little better, because things are changing. And that's something.
The rest of dinner is uneventful, just chatter about school and Spencer's new project. And funnily enough, I miss school. I haven't been in a while, Spencer thought it was better if I... took some time. I think it would've been better for me to go to school. It would've been hard but... there's too much time to think here. I go out, but all I do is think. I stay in, all I do is think. I'm sick of thinking. We haven't done iCarly in a while either. I said we should, I said I could, but... Carly and Freddie said to wait. To take some time. I'm sick of taking time. Sick of people telling me how to feel. I feel like I'm in a cage, and everyone's standing in the dark so I can't see them, just gasping and whispering to themselves about me. And part of it is paranoia, I mean, I've always been a little paranoid, but it's not paranoia when I'm at the apartment, and I can feel Spencer, or Carly, or Freddie, just looking at me, feel it burning the back of my head.
Freddie goes home, and I can sense it's late. I don't look at the clocks much anymore. They go too slow when you do that. Spencer says good night, and I bed down on the sofa, brushing my teeth at the sink before laying my blanket out. I sigh, reaching for the remote. I have trouble sleeping, so I usually just watch Girly Cow repeats until I drift off.
"Sam?"
I turn, setting the remote down, and Carly's there, standing at the bottom of the stairs in her pyjamas. "Yeah? What is it Carls?"
She steps forward hesitantly, "Can... can we talk?"
I pat the cushion beside me, "Sure, sit down."
I see Carly bite her lip, and my brow furrows. "Um... in my room?"
I stand, tugging my boxers down a little. "Yeah. Sure." I know better than to ask questions at this point.
I walk into Carly's room. It's been a while since I've been in here. I... she doesn't let me sleep with her anymore. For obvious reasons, I guess. And everything's the same. There's still that mix of the ch!ld, the teenager and the adult yet to come. The soft toys, the band posters... and yet, the soft toys look neglected, the posters sagging at the corners. I've done this. I've made her grow up. I didn't want her to grow up. I wanted to protect her. I feel a tug at my heart. I can never be sorry enough. I take a deep breath, turning to face her. Carly shuts the door softly, leaning against it for a moment before turning. I sit on her bed, my heart in my throat.
"What did... what did you want to talk about?"
Carly sits on the bed, bringing her legs up and crossing them Indian-style. "I- I've been thinking." She begins, and immediately I'm scared. Nothing good ever came of thinking. I knew that all too well. Her eyes flick up at me, "Thinking about you. About us."
"Us?" My voice is soft, and I'm surprised she heard me at all.
"Sam... I... I'm not gay. At least, I don't think I am. But,"
I can't move. I'm paralysed.
"But... you're my best friend."
I can't breathe. I can't think.
"That... that night was... I don't know. It was... I felt something. Even though it was..." She trails off and I wince. "I felt something. When you kissed me... I... I want... I want..." Her face grows angry. "I don't know what I want. I keep thinking and thinking but I don't know!"
I feel my heart twist sickly inside me, and I reach out, touching her shoulder, wanting to calm her. It seems to work, her face relaxing, and she continues in a quieter voice.
"I want... I want to kiss you."
"Carly?" And it's like someone else is saying it, someone soft and broken. And that's what she makes me. And her hand brushes my face, touching my jaw.
"I need... I need to see," She draws my face closer to her, and I can feel her breath, hot on my face. My heart is thudding so hard I can feel it banging against my lungs and I can't breathe. "I just," Her voice is a whisper, and it trembles as she draws us closer together, our lips millimetres apart. "I just need to see..."
And her lips touch mine, soft, so soft. And she's kissing me. She's actually kissing me.
And this is how I wanted it to be. Gentle, and soft, and her lips move slowly on mine, caressing them. And I'm scared, almost too scared to kiss back. And it feels like there's a hot flame running through me, and it's telling me to kiss her harder, to touch her, but I silence it. And Carly's lips push harder against mine, as she deepens the kiss, tilting my face up to her. And I wonder, is she feeling it too? This thing that makes me shake, that makes me stop doing everything but kiss her?
She pulls back, our lips making a soft sound as they part. And there doesn't seem to be anything I can say, nothing I can do besides open my eyes and sit there, tasting her on my lips. And fight down that part of me that wants to leap on her, to take her clothes off and enjoy her naked body. And my heart is aching, so much I put my hand to my chest, almost expecting to feel something there, something to explain the pain. I let out a shuddery breath.
"I felt it." Carly's voice is a whisper, barely a whisper, like a sigh, and I look at her, her face deep in thought. And when she looks at me, it's like a shock, the way she looks at me. "I felt it." She repeats, moving towards me.
And her hands take my face again, gentle in their embrace, and she draws me to her, draws me to her lips, and kisses me, harder. And it's more desperate this time, both of us. And her tongue runs along my bottom lip, and I open my mouth wider, letting her in, and fighting back a moan at the sheer pleasure of it. She's kissing me, she's actually kissing me. I touch her tongue softly with mine, before exploring her mouth carefully, and she moans, and I feel it vibrate into my mouth. I pull back, my breath hitching. She's looking at me curiously, and her lips are swollen and lush. From me.
I laugh breathlessly. "You... you moaned."
A little smile steals onto her face. "I had to."
She takes my hand loosely in both of hers, playing with it absentmindedly. And I don't want to question it. I don't want to question any of it. I don't want to know. Not now, when things are so sweet.
"You should go to sleep." Carly says, her voice soft.
I nod soundlessly and go to stand. Her hands tighten on mine and she stops me.
"Here. You should sleep here. With me." She pulls me in again, kissing me lightly. And it's like the first time, it's like every time, it sends my heart nuts and makes my head spin. And I love her.
I'm in love with her.
I get under the covers beside her, pulling them over us, and bring my body close to hers, moving an arm tentatively around her waist.
"Is that okay?" I say, feeling the smooth skin at the gap between her top and shorts. She shuffles back into me, pressing our bodies together.
"Mhmm. That's good."
Her hand rests on the top of mine, entwining our fingers. And it's stupid, it's so stupid... but I feel like crying. Because it's better, it's so much better than my imagination. It's so much better than anything I could have dreamed, and I feel like my heart is about to explode, it's so big and achy.
"Night Cupcake." I say before pecking her on her cheek.
I catch a hint of a smile from her turned face, and her voice is soft when she says, "Night Sammie."
"Sam? It's... it's your mom again." Spencer says hesitantly, holding the phone.
I draw my knees up to me, resting my chin on them and shaking my head.
"Sam..." He sighs and puts the phone to his ear. "Sorry Mrs Puckett, Sam's... Sam's not... she's not... she can't talk right now." He ends the call, turning to look at me. It's all anyone seems to do these days. Look at me, with that mixture of sympathy and pity and... and fear. It makes me sick. "You've gotta talk to her sometime." Spencer's voice is soft, pleading.
"Uh uh. Don't wanna." I hug my arms tighter around my legs.
"Sam, she's your mom. She loves you."
I wince, sensing Carly moving beside me. "Leave Sam alone Spence. It's her fault." Carly's voice is hard, and there's this thing in it that I'd never heard before, until now. It's bitter and brittle and it makes me sad, because the Carly I know... the Carly I knew... she never spoke like that. But then, everyone's changed. Everything has... changed.
I'm living with Spencer and Carly now. Temporarily. Until everything gets sorted. Of the few relatives of mine that weren't in jail, none were fit to have a k!d. And it sounds great, y'know, it's what I always wanted, to be living with them, to never have to go home. But things never go the way I want. It's like I'm a pumpkin, around Halloween, and all the guts, all that orange stuff inside has been scooped out and thrown away. I feel hollow. It hurts.
And all the reasons why I never told Carly have come true. If I touch her she flinches, if I say her name she turns too fast, too eager, but she won't look me in the eye. Spencer doesn't know about what happened between us. I don't think Freddie does either. And it's bad enough, them treating me like a stained-glass Sam. I tease Fredbag, and I get nothing. He'll just smile and agree. And maybe it's that that's worst of all. That even Freddie, even Freddie feels sorry for me. I need to insult him. I need Carly to touch me without thinking. I need Spencer to treat me like his little s!ster. Then maybe things could get better, maybe then they could go back to normal.
But the way they keep treating me... it makes me feel worse, keeps me so aware of this big thing that happened. And I feel like maybe, maybe I could move past it, if only they'd let me y'know?
Steve's gone anyway. Locked up nice and safe. And you don't ever mess with a Puckett.
Uncle Carmine made sure of that.
So maybe not so safe.
And all the statements have been given, everything's almost done, all wrapped up nice and neat. But what about me? What happens to me? What, my mom gives a shit now? And just 'cause she's my mom I'm supposed to forgive her?
But things are better. I feel better. I guess. I don't have all this stuff bottled inside me. It's all out, and I'm still alive. And that means things have a chance of getting better, right? But all I really want is Carly. She's the only thing I want. I can deal with everything else, it's hard, but I can do it. It's Carly, just like it's always been Carly. She held my hand when I talked to police. She hugged me, she stroked my hair, she was a mother to me when I fell apart, when it hit me what had happened.
No, not a mother, a best friend.
Even though I did... what I did to her, even though she admitted she didn't know how to feel, she still stayed by my side. And then, when I was better, well, what can be called better, she moved away. Emotionally. Physically. And it was like she was on a hill, far away from me, and I couldn't reach her. I couldn't run fast enough, or yell loud enough to get through to her. And I'll see her looking at me, and I wish to God I could read what was going on in her face, wish I could decipher what she was thinking.
"Sam, dinner!" I move off the couch reluctantly. They try to be normal. Try to be happy. But it all feels a little f0rced y'know? "And tonight... spaghetti tacos!"
Freddie groans, "Again Spence? We had these last night!"
"And the night before!" Interjects Carly.
I sit at the table, grabbing a taco.
"Well what do you guys wanna do?"
Freddie shrugs, "I don't know. We could get take-out?"
Carly nods, "Yeah... pizza maybe? What do you think Sam?"
"Hmm?" I mumble through a mouthful of taco.
A ghost of a smile appears on Carly's face. "Or we could just have spaghetti tacos." She sits down beside me, grabbing the bowl of spaghetti.
Spencer waves his ladle at her, "That was my idea!" before sitting at the end of the table.
Freddie sighs, moving to sit down. "Hey Fredbag, get me a root beer!"
Freddie's lips tighten, and he smiles thinly. "Sure thing Sam."
I grit my teeth. "Oh come on! Grow a spine already Benson."
Freddie just smiles, sitting the root beer down in front of me before slipping into his chair. I exhale hard, dropping the remains of my taco. I feel something touch my hand softly, tentatively, and I look up. It's Carly. Giving me her, 'I know' look. And I feel my heart leap, because she hasn't done that since... well, then. And she understands, she knows that I need to have Freddie fight back. 'Cause what good is a punching bag if it's made out of jelly?
I feel a pang as her hand moves away, but at least it moved there in the first place. It's enough. And I feel a little happier, a little better, because things are changing. And that's something.
The rest of dinner is uneventful, just chatter about school and Spencer's new project. And funnily enough, I miss school. I haven't been in a while, Spencer thought it was better if I... took some time. I think it would've been better for me to go to school. It would've been hard but... there's too much time to think here. I go out, but all I do is think. I stay in, all I do is think. I'm sick of thinking. We haven't done iCarly in a while either. I said we should, I said I could, but... Carly and Freddie said to wait. To take some time. I'm sick of taking time. Sick of people telling me how to feel. I feel like I'm in a cage, and everyone's standing in the dark so I can't see them, just gasping and whispering to themselves about me. And part of it is paranoia, I mean, I've always been a little paranoid, but it's not paranoia when I'm at the apartment, and I can feel Spencer, or Carly, or Freddie, just looking at me, feel it burning the back of my head.
Freddie goes home, and I can sense it's late. I don't look at the clocks much anymore. They go too slow when you do that. Spencer says good night, and I bed down on the sofa, brushing my teeth at the sink before laying my blanket out. I sigh, reaching for the remote. I have trouble sleeping, so I usually just watch Girly Cow repeats until I drift off.
"Sam?"
I turn, setting the remote down, and Carly's there, standing at the bottom of the stairs in her pyjamas. "Yeah? What is it Carls?"
She steps forward hesitantly, "Can... can we talk?"
I pat the cushion beside me, "Sure, sit down."
I see Carly bite her lip, and my brow furrows. "Um... in my room?"
I stand, tugging my boxers down a little. "Yeah. Sure." I know better than to ask questions at this point.
I walk into Carly's room. It's been a while since I've been in here. I... she doesn't let me sleep with her anymore. For obvious reasons, I guess. And everything's the same. There's still that mix of the ch!ld, the teenager and the adult yet to come. The soft toys, the band posters... and yet, the soft toys look neglected, the posters sagging at the corners. I've done this. I've made her grow up. I didn't want her to grow up. I wanted to protect her. I feel a tug at my heart. I can never be sorry enough. I take a deep breath, turning to face her. Carly shuts the door softly, leaning against it for a moment before turning. I sit on her bed, my heart in my throat.
"What did... what did you want to talk about?"
Carly sits on the bed, bringing her legs up and crossing them Indian-style. "I- I've been thinking." She begins, and immediately I'm scared. Nothing good ever came of thinking. I knew that all too well. Her eyes flick up at me, "Thinking about you. About us."
"Us?" My voice is soft, and I'm surprised she heard me at all.
"Sam... I... I'm not gay. At least, I don't think I am. But,"
I can't move. I'm paralysed.
"But... you're my best friend."
I can't breathe. I can't think.
"That... that night was... I don't know. It was... I felt something. Even though it was..." She trails off and I wince. "I felt something. When you kissed me... I... I want... I want..." Her face grows angry. "I don't know what I want. I keep thinking and thinking but I don't know!"
I feel my heart twist sickly inside me, and I reach out, touching her shoulder, wanting to calm her. It seems to work, her face relaxing, and she continues in a quieter voice.
"I want... I want to kiss you."
"Carly?" And it's like someone else is saying it, someone soft and broken. And that's what she makes me. And her hand brushes my face, touching my jaw.
"I need... I need to see," She draws my face closer to her, and I can feel her breath, hot on my face. My heart is thudding so hard I can feel it banging against my lungs and I can't breathe. "I just," Her voice is a whisper, and it trembles as she draws us closer together, our lips millimetres apart. "I just need to see..."
And her lips touch mine, soft, so soft. And she's kissing me. She's actually kissing me.
And this is how I wanted it to be. Gentle, and soft, and her lips move slowly on mine, caressing them. And I'm scared, almost too scared to kiss back. And it feels like there's a hot flame running through me, and it's telling me to kiss her harder, to touch her, but I silence it. And Carly's lips push harder against mine, as she deepens the kiss, tilting my face up to her. And I wonder, is she feeling it too? This thing that makes me shake, that makes me stop doing everything but kiss her?
She pulls back, our lips making a soft sound as they part. And there doesn't seem to be anything I can say, nothing I can do besides open my eyes and sit there, tasting her on my lips. And fight down that part of me that wants to leap on her, to take her clothes off and enjoy her naked body. And my heart is aching, so much I put my hand to my chest, almost expecting to feel something there, something to explain the pain. I let out a shuddery breath.
"I felt it." Carly's voice is a whisper, barely a whisper, like a sigh, and I look at her, her face deep in thought. And when she looks at me, it's like a shock, the way she looks at me. "I felt it." She repeats, moving towards me.
And her hands take my face again, gentle in their embrace, and she draws me to her, draws me to her lips, and kisses me, harder. And it's more desperate this time, both of us. And her tongue runs along my bottom lip, and I open my mouth wider, letting her in, and fighting back a moan at the sheer pleasure of it. She's kissing me, she's actually kissing me. I touch her tongue softly with mine, before exploring her mouth carefully, and she moans, and I feel it vibrate into my mouth. I pull back, my breath hitching. She's looking at me curiously, and her lips are swollen and lush. From me.
I laugh breathlessly. "You... you moaned."
A little smile steals onto her face. "I had to."
She takes my hand loosely in both of hers, playing with it absentmindedly. And I don't want to question it. I don't want to question any of it. I don't want to know. Not now, when things are so sweet.
"You should go to sleep." Carly says, her voice soft.
I nod soundlessly and go to stand. Her hands tighten on mine and she stops me.
"Here. You should sleep here. With me." She pulls me in again, kissing me lightly. And it's like the first time, it's like every time, it sends my heart nuts and makes my head spin. And I love her.
I'm in love with her.
I get under the covers beside her, pulling them over us, and bring my body close to hers, moving an arm tentatively around her waist.
"Is that okay?" I say, feeling the smooth skin at the gap between her top and shorts. She shuffles back into me, pressing our bodies together.
"Mhmm. That's good."
Her hand rests on the top of mine, entwining our fingers. And it's stupid, it's so stupid... but I feel like crying. Because it's better, it's so much better than my imagination. It's so much better than anything I could have dreamed, and I feel like my heart is about to explode, it's so big and achy.
"Night Cupcake." I say before pecking her on her cheek.
I catch a hint of a smile from her turned face, and her voice is soft when she says, "Night Sammie."
Elissa
- 13.04.2021
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