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turn it down - sam monroe

female!reader x sam monroe wc: 3.7k content: angst, slight enemies to lovers, brothers best friend a/n: i kind of want to make a pt 2 to this one........

Your older brother’s best friend, Sam Monroe, was possibly the most aggravating human being on the planet. He’d hang around when he wasn’t home, eat whatever he wanted out of the fridge, took your towels when he wanted to shower. But the most annoying thing? When your brother wasn’t home, and Sam decided to stick around? He’d sit in his room and blast whatever music he was in the mood for that day. And luckily for you, that was almost always some sort of loud, hardcore rock or metal. It almost made you regret agreeing to move into the spare bedroom in your brother’s apartment.

It was a Tuesday night, and you had just come home from a double at work. Your brother was still at work, but don’t worry! Sam was home… blasting some shit you could barely make out the words to. Your head had already been pounding all day, and this wasn’t helping. You let out a loud groan before going to the room, swinging the door open.

Sam was stretched out on the bed, lounging like it was his own. He was reading a magazine with the music blaring. You furrowed your brow, but didn’t really look at him before speaking.

“Turn it down!”

He barely even heard you, glancing up for a second, nodding to you in acknowledgement as if he had heard you, and going back to his magazine. The nerve of this guy! You stormed over to the stereo and reached down, following the cord to the outlet and yanking it out of the wall.

He sat up quickly with a huff. “Hey! What the fuck are you doing?”

“I said ‘turn it down’! How the hell are you reading? I can’t even hear myself think! I have a headache, don’t you have headphones or something?” you yelled back.

“If it was that much of a problem, why haven’t you said anything before?” he retorted. You clenched your jaw.

“I told Corey that if you’re here when he’s not home, you need to turn that shit down!”

“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not Corey. If you don’t tell me directly, I don’t know shit,” he scoffed. You narrowed your eyes.

Your brother, Corey, didn’t care about anything besides making money, smoking, and MTV. So, it didn’t surprise you that he hadn’t bothered to pass along your message.

Sam got up, but only to plug the stereo back in before flopping back down on the bed, this time on his stomach. You let out another groan and left the room, slamming the door shut behind you.

You were showering one morning and grabbed your shampoo to find it empty. You were the only one to use this shower. Corey wouldn’t have touched it, he called it too girly one time because of the way it smelled… which immediately meant Sam did it.

You got out quickly, wrapping a towel around your body, and not even bothering to dry off your hair. You went straight into your brother’s room to find him and Sam laying around, staring at the TV. An old concert from some rock band was playing, and you glanced at the MTV logo in the corner of the screen before looking back over at them. Your brother picked his head up and furrowed his brow.

“What?” he lazily asked.

“Sam used all my shampoo, that’s what!” you scoffed. Sam picked his head up and narrowed his eyes at you.

“What?” he echoed your brother. The two of them were already high. Lovely.

“My shampoo?” you waved the bottle in front of him. Sam looked you up and down slowly, and you started to realize you were standing in front of him in only a towel. You pulled the towel up a bit, making it more snug around your body.

“What about it?” he asked, seeming genuinely confused.

“Did you use it?” you spoke in a tone you would usually reserve for a toddler. He nodded in response, still clearly not understanding the issue. You sighed. “And you put it back in my shower totally empty?”

His eyes widened a bit like he finally got it. “Oh, shit… my bad,” he spoke quietly before laying back down. Your nostrils flared slightly in anger.

“That’s it? ‘Oh shit, my bad’? Corey, do you have shampoo I can use?” you turned to your brother, not too hopeful that he’d be any more help.

“Nah… I don’t use shampoo,” he shook his head slowly. You furrowed your brow deeply at that.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t use shampoo… I have my bar.”

You stared blankly at him, blinking a few times. “Of soap? You use a bar of soap on your hair?” you asked flatly, almost in disbelief.

“Yeah, he does… why do you think I took your shampoo?” Sam scoffed.

You looked in between the two of them as they mindlessly stared at the little box TV.

“I-” you started to speak before realizing there was no point. With a huff, you turned and left.

You rolled your eyes as Corey told you his plans for the night. You were both in the kitchen with you sitting on the counter eating ice cream out of the tub, and Corey raiding the fridge.

“Cor, I promise you I do not care,” you assured him. He side-eyed you before shutting the fridge.

“Yeah, well, I’ll be bringing Sam with me and we’ll probably be out all night, so… you got the apartment to yourself.”

Suddenly you cared too much about his plans. “Where are you going? And when? And also for how long?”

“I dunno, it’s a beach house… some bitch Sam knows,” Corey shrugged. As if he was summoned, Sam trudged in from… wherever the hell he came from.

“Why the hell do you care?” Sam interjected, looking over at you.

“I wanna know how long I’ll have until you come home and piss me off again.”

“Ah,” Sam gave a nod, acting amused. “We’re leaving at, like… nine? Maybe home at two or three?”

“You’re leaving pretty late… maybe you should leave a bit earlier,” you suggested. “Don’t wanna get caught in traffic,” you gave Sam a wide, shit-eating grin.

He narrowed his eyes at you and mocked your tone when he responded, “Can’t get caught in traffic if we’re walking.”

“I don’t like you,” you shot back, not really having anything else to say, but still wanting the last word.

“I’m not the president of your fan club, either, sweetheart,” Sam grumbled, reaching into the fridge to raid it just like Corey had minutes earlier.

That night, you’d never been happier. You could sit in the living room and watch a movie on the bigger tv without Corey and Sam causing chaos. You could listen to your CDs on the stereo without them yelling at you about how much Britney Spears sucks. It was glorious… until the front door opened at 2:13 in the morning.

You turned to look at the door and only saw Sam coming in. Corey wasn’t with him. He looked tired.

“Where’s Corey?” you asked, sitting up a bit and adjusting yourself so you could look back easier. Sam shrugged.

“No clue… he left with a girl an hour ago… I thought he’d be here.”

You shook your head. “No… he isn’t here.”

Neither one of you were worried. This wasn’t the first time Corey went home with a girl, and it wouldn’t be the last. Sam came around and plopped down on the couch next to you.

“What are you watching?” he asked quietly, grabbing a handful of chips from the bag that sat between you on the couch.

You looked over at him. He wasn’t immediately making fun of you. You told yourself maybe it was because he was drunk or high, and he was just too inebriated to care.

“Um… I’m not really sure, actually, it was just on,” you spoke in a soft voice, giving him a small shrug. He hummed in response. He was being… quiet. It was almost suspicious. You watched his hand as he grabbed more chips. The rings on his fingers reflected the small bit of light in the room as he moved.

After maybe fifteen minutes of silence, you looked over at Sam. He was passed out. His head was tilted back against the couch, and his mouth was slightly open as he breathed slowly.

You continued to quietly watch the movie, just waiting on your delinquent brother to come home. But he never did, and around 3 in the morning, you started to doze off.

The next morning, you woke up when the sun started coming in through the window behind the tv, shining right in your eyes. You winced and slowly started to come to… then you realized your neck hurt… and you were cold… and your pillow was hard. You picked your head up and realized it wasn’t a pillow. It was Sam Monroe’s chest. One arm was slung over his face while the other rested across your back.

You figured that at some point in the night, you put your head on Sam’s shoulder. He eventually shifted to fully lay down, and you — in your mostly asleep state — followed. You quickly sat up, which stirred Sam. He looked up at you, realizing the position you were in, and shot up.

“Why were you fucking laying on me?” he exclaimed.

“I wasn’t!”

“Yes, you were, dude!” he scoffed.

“It wasn’t on purpose!” you protested.

Sam rolled his eyes and stood up off the couch. “Fuck is wrong with you?” he muttered as he went off to Corey’s room, making sure to slam the door behind him.

You huffed before getting up and going to your own room, slamming the door and making sure it was louder than when Sam did it.

It’d been about a month since the couch incident, and you were stumbling through the entryway of your apartment, drunk off your ass. You’d just been dropped off after a friend’s party, and you obviously had to indulge in a drink or two… or five. You tripped over your own feet and grabbed onto the counter, laughing at yourself.

Your brother’s bedroom door opened a bit. You looked up to see Sam poking his head out, trying to see what the hell was going on.

“You’re here…” you said, narrowing your eyes. Sam let out a scoff as he opened the door a bit more, fully stepping out of the room.

“Yeah, big shocker, I know…” he crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorframe.

You stared at him, somewhat annoyed just by his presence. You looked at his arms, and you noticed the way his biceps moved under the sleeve of his shirt. You lingered on it a second too long, though, as Sam caught it. “How drunk are you?”

“Hmm?” you looked back at him. You just shook your head. “I’m not that drunk…” you tried to laugh it off. He pushed off the frame of the door and stepped towards you.

“You sure?” he scoffed, raising an eyebrow. You stepped towards him.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you said defiantly. He smiled a little bit. It wasn’t his usual cruel grin… just a soft smile. Your eyes flickered to his mouth for a moment before going back up to meet his gaze. He stuck his tongue out to wet his lips as he shook his head.

“You’re wasted,” he stated.

“No, I’m no-” you tried to protest, but you tripped over your own feet. Sam let out a small laugh before holding his hand out.

“Come on… time for you to lay down.” He spoke in a soft tone you’d only ever heard from him that one night a month ago. You looked up at him suspiciously. He tilted his head, the piercing in his brow shining. “Seriously, you should lay down.”

You stared down at his hand. He let out a small huff and beckoned you over, curling his fingers. “Come on…” he repeated in a tone that sounded like he was calling for a dog. Even when he was trying to be nice, he couldn’t help but tease you a little bit. You sighed before reaching your hand out to him. He took your hand in his and slowly pulled you closer to him. “There we go… let’s get you to bed,” he said gently. He moved his hand to your lower back as he guided you towards your room.

“Why are you acting like that?” you asked, furrowing your brow.

“Like what?”

“Like… nice.”

He let out a small exhale through his nose, almost a laugh, but not quite. “I don’t know… nice change of pace,” he joked.

He opened your bedroom door and helped you get in, making sure you were all good as you sat on the edge of your bed. You slowly laid back, staring at the ceiling.

“I’m tired…” you said quietly, your eyes totally glossed over. Sam chuckled.

“Yeah, I bet… do you, um… do you want pajamas, or…?” he asked, almost nervously, looking around the room.

“No… no, I’ll sleep in my dress, it’s fine,” you insisted as you shook your head.

Sam nodded and put his hands on his hips. “Okay…” he mumbled. You felt his eyes on you. You rolled your head to the side to look at him, trying your best to ignore the entire world spinning when you did.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing, nothing… you good?” he asked, taking a step closer.

You nodded as you kicked off your heels. “Mhm,” you hummed.

“Okay… um… get some sleep, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you said quietly, pulling your comforter up to your chin and turning onto your side. You immediately regretted that decision — considering it made the room spin even more — and rolled back so you were once again staring at the ceiling.

Sam watched you for a few seconds before leaving the room, making sure the door closed as quietly as possible.

You and Sam never spoke of the night he helped you out, or the night of the couch incident. It seemed as if whenever Corey was around, Sam was his usual douchebag self. But the second you two were alone… he was different. He wasn’t overly sweet, he wasn’t doting on you, or outwardly flirting. He was just… nice. Like he said — it was a welcome change of pace.

It’d been a few weeks. Corey was out of town with some of his friends. Friends that Sam didn’t exactly get along with, so he wasn’t on the trip. He still came around the apartment while your brother was out, though.

Sometimes you wondered if Sam just had nowhere else to go. Other times you wondered if Corey should start asking him to kick in for rent.

You were sitting on the couch watching some shitty reality show as the front door opened. You turned your head even though you knew exactly who it was. The second Sam looked at you, you could tell he was high out of his mind. His eyes were bloodshot, glossed over, and they weren’t fully open.

“Oh, hey… I took a little walk,” he spoke quietly, slipping off his shoes at the door.

“Didn’t you leave, like, an hour ago? I thought you were going home,” you lightly scoffed.

Sam let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “Yeah, like I’d ever go back there,” he grumbled. “I wanted to take a long walk.”

You heard rustling in the kitchen before he came around the couch and sat next to you. He put a giant bag of pretzels in between you two before grabbing a handful.

“Oh, thanks,” you spoke at a volume barely above a whisper as you grabbed some, your eyes glued to the TV. Sam hummed in acknowledgement. You saw out of the corner of your eye that he kept looking over at you.

The two of you sat in silence until you could no longer ignore it.

“Why are you staring at me?” you asked, looking over at you. He quickly looked at the TV.

“I’m not… I’m, um… just high…” he started, his mind lagging as he tried to come up with some excuse.

“Just admit it, Monroe… you don’t hate me as much as Corey thinks you do… I think you like me,” you smiled. You were trying to joke, trying to get a reaction out of him. Instead he went silent and stared at the coffee table. You saw his ears start to turn red and you realized you’d hit the nail right on the head. Your smile faded a bit as you stared at him. “Holy shit, you do.”

Sam scoffed. “I don’t like you, okay? I- I just don’t… I don’t hate you,” he stammered.

“No, you like me,” you teased. You leaned into him, your faces only maybe six inches apart. “You like me… and Corey would kill you if he found out, so whenever he’s around you act like you hate my guts,” you guessed. Your heart started to beat a bit faster as he finally looked over at you.

Sam didn’t speak. He pressed his lips into a thin line just stared at you, thinking about something. He took in a breath like he was going to say something, then hesitated. He sighed before looking back at the TV.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” you asked quietly. He tried to sink back into the couch shamefully. You could tell he felt… almost guilty. He gave a small nod, his gaze not leaving the TV.

You didn’t wanna push him any further. It was no secret that Sam wasn’t exactly the type to open up and talk about his feelings, so you didn’t say anything else. You moved away from him and leaned back onto the other end of the couch. You stretched out your legs, your calves resting on Sam’s thighs. He still didn’t speak, but he didn’t move you off of him either. After a moment, he put his hands on your leg. You tried to hide a smile as you looked over at the TV, just like Sam.

After a few minutes, you heard him let out a slow exhale. You glanced over at him. He was already looking at you. You gave him a tiny smile.

He looked down at his hands on your leg. He tapped his fingers anxiously against your shin before looking back at you. “It can’t happen, you know that, right?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, furrowing your brow.

“Like… this. Us. Can’t happen,” he shook his head firmly.

You picked up your legs and fully sat up, tucking your feet under you. “Because of Corey?”

He started fidgeting with one of his rings. “Well… yeah, because of Corey. I- I mean, he’s my best friend… always has been. He’d fucking kill me if I got with you… like you said.”

“Since when have I given a shit about Corey and what he thinks?” you asked with a small chuckle.

He laughed softly and moved a bit closer before his smile started to fade. “I know you don’t care… but it… it really can’t happen…” he said gently, almost like he was letting you down easy. He was staring at your lips.

“You say that, but you’re moving closer,” you challenged with a small smile. He gave a small nod and leaned in a bit closer.

“Yeah…” he confirmed quietly, his eyes flickering between yours.

“Sam, what are you doing?” you asked quietly, looking up at him through your lashes as he continued to lean over you.

“Don’t be stupid, you’re not stupid,” he whispered. His lips parted slightly and you glanced down at them.

His eyes shut as he gently pressed his lips to yours. It took you a moment to process what was happening, but when you did, your eyes fluttered shut and you let out a small hum before kissing him back, firmly pressing your lips to his.

He smiled a bit against your lips as he went in for another kiss. He cupped your jaw with his large, warm hand, only contrasted by the cold metal of his rings. When you moved your hand to hold onto his shoulder, he deepened the kiss. He tilted his head as he went in again, this time his lips coaxed yours open so he could slip his tongue in. You let out a soft moan and put your other hand in his hair.

Sam let out a small noise as his tongue explored your mouth. The hand that was on your jaw slid back into your hair, his other hand going to your waist, trying to move you onto his lap.

You pulled away, slightly out of breath. “Sam… what happened to ‘this can’t happen’?” you asked, looking into his ocean colored eyes. He let out a shaky breath and bit down on his bottom lip, thinking for a moment.

“I- I don’t know… I just… you were looking at me like that, and your smile, and… fuck, I’m sorry…” he leaned back against the couch.

“Hey, no, don’t… don’t be sorry,” you reassured him. “I won’t tell Corey if you don’t.”

He looked back up at you. “You won’t tell him?” he asked. You shook your head.

“No… why would I?” you scoffed lightly. Sam gave you a small smirk, and you immediately knew where this was headed.

“Well, in that case… we’ve got three days before he comes back from his trip,” Sam mumbled before grabbing your waist and finally maneuvering you into his lap.

He stared up at you for a few seconds before pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. Then, his fingers tangled themselves in your hair, pulling you down to meet him for another intense kiss.

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