The Lost Boys Imagines and Preferences (Book 2)

Sam Smut

"Focus." David demands, taking deep breaths to control his breathing.

"I'm trying to." You shout back, your eyes shifting from their natural color to the warm gold that you tried to keep hidden. You threw your head back as your fangs started to extend. David got back into fighting position.

"Control it!"

"I'm trying!" You growl, your pitch a little higher, but the growl of your wolf settling in behind it. He swings at you, your body taking too much time to react, but still managing to duck. He lifts his foot up and kicks at your side, but you grab his ankle and flip him, to which he leans on his feet.

"Good, but this time do it like you mean it." He tosses another punch, you grabbing his hand and twisting it away. He throws another one, and then another. You keep deflecting his shots, but in the meantime are unable to pass your own. His inhuman speed, gives him the time to grab your neck and pin you to Star's table. You kick his stomach, breaking free of the hold. You start off by jumping on him, your body flexing as you pin him to the ground. Your legs land on either side of his waist, your hands grabbing his neck and applying the least bit of pressure. He taps your waist twice, so you let up, standing and helping him.

"You did good."

"Really? Because I thought she did bad?" Sam asks, wincing as he looks at you. You roll your eyes, sitting beside him and delivering a playful slap on his arm.

"Not bad, just... not great. You need to learn to control your shift, if you ever get into a real life fight..."

"I know, David" She sighs, "I'm relatively knew to this, okay? So could we all just stop ganging up on me?"

"No one is ganging up on you, big baby." Sam replies, sarcasm lacing the tone like venom.

"Could you just like, shut your trap? Or at least put it to some good use?" You mumble under your breath, throwing your legs over his lap.

"What was that?" Sam jokes, as David gags.

"Nothing, sweetheart!" You sing, pulling out your phone. He presses a hand over your calves your body reacting in a shiver. He glances at you, his heart picking up speed. Your eyebrows furrow, but you ignore it.

[...]

"Emerson, what did I tell you about playing with my hair?" You ask, turning around in the desk to glare at your best friend. His eyes widen, and he drops the tuft of locks.

"Sorry." He gulps, once again his heart hammering against his chest. You look around to see if anything bad was happening, but sensed nothing. He looks away, focusing more on the blackboard than you.

[...]

"So are you coming over to mine?" You ask, putting the phone on loudspeaker.

"On my way."

"Good..." You sounded hesitant to him, his worry literally seeping through the screen.

"What's wrong? Are you alright? Do you not want me to come?"

"Chill out, Sam. I still want you to come, okay? Just gotta talk to you about something."

"Be there in five." He hangs up, tossing the phone on Jim's passenger seat. You sigh, and five minutes later, as promised, he's knocking on the door. He lets himself in, holding up the bag of movie supplies he bought. You grin, cheering playfully.

"So what's up?" He asks, sitting beside you on the couch.

"What's going on with your heart, recently?" You ask not so subtly.

"What?"

"Your heart... it's constantly hammering, every time I'm near you, your heart sounds like it's having a panic attack.

"It's nothing," He smiles shyly, looking at the blank television. You grab his chin, forcing his eyes to yours. He swallows, looking down.

"Sam..." You whisper, leaning closer, "What's going on?"

"I like you." He clears his throat. You back away, blinking a few times.

"You do?"

"Yeah." He nods, pursing his lips, as if to say, 'Okay.'

"Why?"

He scoffs, "What do you mean why? You're beautiful, intelligent, extremely sexy... Who wouldn't love you?"

"That's not what I meant..." You blush, smiling slightly, "I meant why did you feel the need to keep this from me?"

"Uh, I don't know? The totally crushing fear of being rejected?" His eyebrows scrunch together.

"I like you too."

"You do?" He asks, spasming forward.

"Yeah, I do. A lot, actually."

He grins, "That's uh... that's–" You climb over his lap, pressing your chests together as you bite your tongue seductively.

"You think I'm sexy?" You joke, your voice low as you lean into his ear. His hands find your waist instinctively.

"Very." He blows out air onto your shoulder, the smell of it minty and fresh.

"You love me?" It was meant to be a playful question, not something Sam would take literally. But his heart rate picked up, and the chemo-signals he gave off were full of lust and passion.

"Yeah." He whispers, his voice cracking at the truth.

You pull back, your face going serious as you stare down at his brown eyes. "I love you too." You lean down, pressing your lips with his. He tilts his head up, moving against you in sync. Never had you thought you'd be kissing Sam Emerson, your best friend since you were babies, who you bathed with, shared secrets with, and loved.

"Sam?" You whisper, clearing your throat gently, "Do you... I mean, would you like to...?"

"Yeah..." He nods, "I would." You smile, pulling your shirt above your head in a quick, but swift movement. He stares at your beautiful body, the skin that fit you perfectly, the breasts that were all around amazingly perky, and the slight v-line you've gained from working out with Scott.

"You're so perfect." He hums, flexing his fingers against your wrists. He pulls your hands to run through his soft brown hair, all the while kissing you fast and rough. He spins you so that you're beneath him, the couch creaking as he does this.

"Not here." You moan, as his kisses pepper down your neck, "Bedroom." He picked you up, his hands cupping your ass, your legs hooking around his waist. He maintains the kiss, while stepping up the flight of stairs, the bounce of your breasts hitting his chest.

Once your door has been slammed open, you were on the bed, doubled over with pleasure. He pulls your pants off, breathing over your damp panties.

"No, no foreplay. Please I need you." You groan. He nods, taking them off before sliding his own khakis off. He jerks his hips into his fist a couple times, before moving to your entrance. Once he's sheathed inside of you, you gasp, grabbing his biceps.

"Fuck, baby." He moans, starting to pound into you. You scratch down his back, leaving blood in your finger's wake. He continues to slam into you, your eyes shifting to the animalistic gold that you've grown to accept.

"I'm not gonna last long, Sam."

"Me neither, babe. Come for me." He reaches down to play with your clit, your body convulsing as you explode.

"Shit, fuck, fuck!" You scream, feeling him twitch inside you. He yanks out, fisting his cock again, before erupting onto your chest. When the both of you are clean, he pulls the covers up and rocks you to sleep. 

Like, wow. OKay that escalated fast.