maybe you aren’t actually that bad.
sammonroe x popular!femreader
finally back with a part four to this little series! cant believe i left it for like a month oh my gosh. anyway hope you enjoy this because i basically pulled an all-nighter tearing my hair out to figure out how to write this :) please comment, like, reblog if you like it! part 3, part 2, part 1
warnings: swearing (light), sam is kinda pervy but nothing explicit ofc and idk what else lol
You didn’t see Sam at all that day at school. In first period, you’d looked up every time the door had opened, admittedly searching for his scruffy black and blue hair. But each time it wasn’t there. In science, you had eventually moved your bag to the chair next to you when halfway through the lesson Sam still hadn’t shown up. You didn’t even see him cross-legged, headphones on, against the oak tree he always sat under, ignoring anyone who remotely engaged with him at breaks.
By fourth period, you had given up on seeing him, instead only hoping he would show to your cheer practice to work on the project again.
You were in the girl’s bathrooms, trying your hardest to tie your hair into the perfect high ponytail for cheer. The bow wouldn’t sit right, and you groaned in frustration, eventually just clipping it on the diagonal and calling it a day. After changing into your uniform and suddenly realising how short the skirt was, you left the bathroom and walked onto the field to meet up with the team.
A quick glance to the bleachers.
No ugly band shirts and silver chains.
Only football jock boyfriends. You made eye contact with a blonde haired and blue eyed boy, the captain of the football team who was dating one of your closer friends. Scott Barringer.
He waved two fingers politely at you, before moving his gaze back to his friends.
You sighed, starting to accept the fact that Sam hadn’t come and focusing on stretching your split instead.
Halfway through your practice, you were calling the new chant loudly before jumping quickly onto the base’s thighs, ready to stand up tall before a flicker of movement in the bleachers caught your eye.
Sam crept onto the back row of the metal bleachers, desperately trying to stay inconspicuous. The very last thing he wanted was to be caught here, watching random girls dance around the field and call out cringey chants. He was dressed in black cargo pants that hung low on his hips, and a metallic chain held them up, just peeking out from underneath his black t-shirt. He was covered barely with a simple black jacket that was slung over his shoulders.
You took no notice of the boy first, trying to focus on holding your knee up and clasping your hands together above your head.
It turned out you should have been focusing harder, because you squinted to get a closer look at the dark figure and realised who it was immediately.
You tried to get a closer look, almost feeling deceived. Sam Monroe at a cheer practice.
Right then, your core muscles relaxed and your body loosened, your foot slipping straight out of the grip of the base that held you. Instantly, you tumbled through the arms and legs underneath you, barely being caught before your body hit the hard ground of the field.
You grimaced, running a hand over your face to hide the blush that was creeping onto your cheeks as your teammates placed you back on your feet.
You opened your mouth to apologise, before hearing your name screeched at the top of someone’s lungs.
Turning around, you gritted your teeth as one of your ‘friends’ marched towards you. She was the cheer captain, and though you’d never say it to her, you always felt overshadowed by her. Anything you could do, she could do better, and sometimes it felt like she lived solely for the purpose of proving that to you on the daily.
“Get. It. Together!” she shouted, blonde ponytail swinging with every huff. “The game is FRIDAY NIGHT! I do not have time to be correcting stupid mistakes! This isn’t even a hard routine! God. I don’t want to see anymore of whatever that was. And that goes for all of you,” she said firmly, looking around at the circle of girls. “Hear me? I want everyone to get a water break. 5 minutes. Only.”
The girls around you nodded quickly, before dispersing in a hurry and leaving you standing in the middle of the field, processing what had happened.
You looked toward the bleachers, where Sam had been watching the ordeal unfold. Great. He’d definitely seen you fall. Because of him, no less.
He made eye contact with you, giving you a surprising toothy smile and a small wave.
Rolling your eyes, you dragged your feet up to where he was slouching on the metal seat.
“Someone finally decided to show up,” you teased, brushing what could have been dog hair off the shoulder of his jacket.
Sam smiled again, trying to ignore the flip of his stomach when he noticed the short hem of your cheer skirt. “Couldn’t miss our little project sesh,” he drawled nonchalantly.
“Right. And where were you today again?” you asked skeptically.
“Oh, you know,” he said, blue eyes sparkling when he saw you raise an eyebrow. “Skipping.”
“Should’ve known,” you sighed dramatically. “Well, you made me fall, did you see that? I never fall. Ever.”
“Fall?” he asked innocently. “What fall? I never saw you fall.”
You sighed, grabbing your water bottle from the seat and taking a long drink. You swallowed. “Well, that was an easy move. If that happens again, she’s gonna be pissed.”
“Didn’t look easy,” Sam said, mesmerised by how your sparkly lipgloss rubbed off your lips and onto the water bottle.
You said nothing, just smiled before hearing the aggravating voice of the girl. “Come on, girls! I changed my mind! Five minutes is too long! Get back down here!”
Sam looked to where the girl was yelling. “You should probably go,” he said obviously, kicking himself.
“Yep. Pray for me, please,” you said, turning away to return to practice.
“I’m already praying for myself because I have to be here. I’ll add you to the list!” he said, loud enough so you heard him as you walked away.
You put your middle finger up at him over your shoulder, hearing him chuckle as you did.
Forty-five minutes later, you nailed a tumbling pass the best you’d ever done.
Sam’s throat was dry as he watched your body move expertly, trying not to stare too hard at your chest and your thighs under the skirt. He looked away as soon as you glanced up to where he was sitting, and you grinned when you caught him.
The other girls laughed at you without saying anything about your perfect execution of the front aerial, handspring, roundoff combination. “Why the fuck is that weird goth kid watching you? God, he’s such a pervert.”
You shrugged, moving your gaze from Sam. “I don’t know. He’s actually not that bad.”
They giggled again, patting you on the back. “Alright. Go hang out with him, he’s clearly more your style.”
Their voices travelled up to where Sam was, and he felt the familiar twinge in his heart at the words. He trained his gaze on you, expecting to hear you laugh and make fun of him somehow.
Instead, you rolled your eyes, walking away from the girls. “Sure.”
You didn’t bother with going to the bathroom to freshen up, instead walking straight in the direction of the library, Sam following you wordlessly.
You stopped at your locker, opening it quietly and taking your bag out.
As you walked side by side with Sam, you tried to gather some more information.
“Soooo,” you started lightly, nudging his shoulder with yours gently. It set him off balance, and he tripped over his untied shoelace, giving you an irritated look. “Did you…get home okay last night?”
“Well… you just walked pretty far from the house I dropped you off at,” you said, looking over at him.
“Why were you watching me?” Sam asked quickly, slightly accusatory.
“What? No, I wasn’t,” you mumbled, deciding to switch the topic before you said something you’d regret. “What brand is your microwave?”
Sam scoffed, trying not to smile. “Panasonic. What about yours?”
“Nice, good… They’re… they’re good, yeah.” You wanted to throw something, curse yourself out for this ridiculous conversation change. “Mine’s a Samsung.”
Sam did grin now. “Trust you to have a fancy microwave,” he teased, unsurprised. “Let me guess, it has one hundred different settings and can operate when you clap your hands?”
You flushed slightly, smiling over at him. Gosh. When, in the entire time you’d known Sam, had he made you awkward and nervous? “Yes, actually. You’ll have to come and try it.”
“Will do.” He opened the door to the library for you, letting you walk in first without even realising he was doing it.
You chose a spot in the back corner of the library, dropping your bag, still in your uniform. Sam slouched on the chair automatically, trying desperately not to look closer at you. Unpacking your books onto the desk, you uncapped your pen with your teeth.
“Okay, so… today what we have to do is ask each other questions from the task sheet, and record our reactions,” you said cheerily, handing him a copy of the sheet, which had a list of questions jotted down. “You can ask me first,” she told him.
“Alright, let’s see here,” Sam muttered, uncapping his own chewed pen and holding the sheet like a therapist. “God, these are deep questions…”
“What makes you anxious?” He asked, leaning forwards to hear your answer better.
You thought for a moment, trying to come up with a good answer to that. “Um, I don’t know. The dark, being left out, failing…” you listed.
Sam nodded, writing down something and frowning. “Aww, you’re scared of the dark?” He teased softly.
You glared at him. “No, I said it makes me anxious,” you said firmly.
He held up his hands. “Alright, alright, moving on. Think about those things. How does it make you feel?” he asked, before rolling his eyes. “Gross, I sound like a fucking guidance counselor.”
You closed your eyes, envisioning the things you’d said. “Panicky. Like the world might end if I screw something up, like I’ll be a nobody, like… I don’t know, scared,” you admitted shyly, opening your eyes.
He listed things aloud. “Knee bouncing, faster breathing, shy personality change,” he wrote, before meeting your gaze. “For the record, you could never be a nobody,” he added quietly.
You smiled, surprised he wasn’t making fun of you anymore. “Thank you.”
Sam nodded, before averting his gaze. He asked you four more questions, all of which felt extremely intruding to share with someone you barely knew. But you answered each one truthfully, and sighed in relief when it was your turn to ask the questions.
“Okay. Hmmm,” you murmured, tracing your pen along the paper. “When was the last time you felt safe?”
He groaned, immediately hating this. “This’ll make me sound like a little bitch,” he whined.
You rolled your eyes. “Calm down. It’s only me, and it’s just for the project anyway.”
“Fine. But it stays between us,” he said firmly.
Sam took a deep breath to steady himself. “Last night,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.
“Last night?” You asked, keeping the surprise out of your voice. He must really live in a bad part of town if the last time he felt safe was at your house, in your sparkly room.
He nodded, just barely. “Yeah, in your room, with the pizza, and all,” he elaborated.
Blinking, you noted down his physical responses. Dilated pupils, avoiding eye contact, tightened and unrelaxed posture…
“I’m glad, you know,” you whispered after a while. “That you felt safe with me.”
He gave you a wobbly small smile, playing with his labret piercing.
“Next questions,” you said, moving on down the list.
After an hour had passed and you had both asked your fair share of emotionally intellectual questions and recorded each other’s nervous reactions, you yawned, resting your head on the table and shivering slightly from the library’s air conditioning. The cheer uniform you were wearing didn’t cover a lot, and where it did protect, the fabric was stretchy and thin.
Sam chuckled, watching your face. Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and dangled it in front of your face.
You looked up at him in surprise, searching his eyes for any hint of deceivement.
“Come on, take it,” he told you, trying to not look embarrassed as he closed his textbook.
With a small grin, you snatched it from him and slipped it on, his smell hitting you almost instantly. His jacket smelled like cigarette smoke, salty ocean water, and something musky that you couldn’t be sure of what it was. It wasn’t an awful combination.
“Alright, come on. I don’t wanna be seen in a library any longer than necessary,” he said gruffly, standing up and picking your bag up for you so you wouldn’t have to bend over in that skirt.
You pulled his jacket further around you and took your bag from him. “Gosh, I’m coming. Have a little patience.”
The walk to the carpark was quiet, both of you thinking about each other’s answers to the questions. It wasn’t awkward though, more peaceful. Most kids had gone home hours ago, leaving the halls mainly deserted, except for the occasional teacher.
Sam walked with you to your car, nodding when you thanked him for the jacket.
“No, keep it,” he said, swallowing. “It’s, uh, it’s a pretty cold night. And y’know, the uniform. Doesn’t really cover—” he stopped himself. “Just give it back another time, is what I’m trying to say.”
You smiled slowly, unlocking your car. “Oh. Alright then.”
He nodded. “Yep. And you, um, you did really well today. Y’know. In practice…and the project.”
Again, you cursed the soft blush on your cheeks. “You were actually watching?”
“Come on,” he whispered, voice thick. “I’d have to be blind not to.” Sam looked away instantly, face red.
You were stunned, slightly breathless, and the only thing you could do was thank him quietly.
Sam nodded, walking away onto a dark path you knew definitely did not lead to the rich side of town you’d dropped him off at last night. But his words from today stayed in your mind the entire drive home, repeating like a broken record.
thank you for reading, have an amazing night/day. also aus government hasn’t banned me yet, take that 😏
credit to @strangergraphics, @droideplane and @parfajt for dividers
