Catch-22 | SFK

IV

Sometimes new beginnings are really just the same old story hidden in disguise.

Read while listening: harvest moon - neil young

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, car sex, fingering (f!receiving), mentions of oral (f!receiving), praise, possessiveness/jealousy, biting, lots of dirty talk, mentions of masturbation, mentions of hookups/casual sex, name calling, drinking, mentions of addiction, mentions of cheating/cheating, arguing, swearing, fighting, mentions of breakups, crying, general angst/sadness, anxiety, sorry if I miss any!

"Where is my curling iron?" You exploded, pushing open the bathroom door with enough strength to knock it off its hinges. Your eldest sister peeked her head around her open door, looking at you with concern.

"Why are you screaming?" The house was full after months of the upstairs bedrooms being mostly vacant, and it had done nothing but cause chaos. Things were constantly getting lost, there was never any good food in the fridge, and it was beginning to feel like you were in high school all over again. As nice as it was for the first few days of the reunion, it was beginning to grow old. Brooke was back from her graduate studies for a few weeks to celebrate the holidays just the same as you, and Ellie was on Christmas break from high school. With all of you home constantly and nowhere to go, tension was begginning to rise at an alarming rate.

"I have somewhere to be in half an hour, and I can't find it anywhere!" You explained, stress eating away at you.

"Did you have it in your room or the bathroom?" Brooke asked, now stepping out to join you in the search.

"I don't know, I can't remember." You sighed, running a hand through your freshly blowdried hair. Brooke stepped towards the bathroom just as Ellie's bedroom door opened. With a confused stare, she tried her best to piece together the cause of the commotion.

"Here!" Brooke called, sticking her arm out of the door, holding the exact thing you were looking for. With a sigh of relief, you grabbed it from her with a smile.

"Thank you." You breathed.

"What's got you all riled up?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"She's got a date!" Ellie called out, rushing to join in on the conversation. Brooke raised an eyebrow, now curious about your plans for the night.

"Not a date!" You corrected, giving your youngest sibling a glare as you searched for the outlet to plug in the curling iron. "Dinner, and a very platonic one at that." Ellie leaned against the doorway as Brooke hoisted herself up on the bathroom counter, both of them unwilling to retreat back to their rooms just yet.

"I wouldn't be this worked up over dinner with a friend." Brooke chuckled, looking through your makeup bag. "This is cute, where'd you get it?" She pulled out a lipgloss, inspecting the label.

"I'm not worked up," You snipped, running a comb through your hair. "I just don't want to be late. And I got it for my birthday, I don't know where it came from."

"Your friends have good taste." She hummed, dropping it back in the bag as she continued looking through the rest of it. "Who's your strictly platonic friend that you're terrified to keep waiting?"

"No one you know." You huffed, clipping the top section of your hair back. Ellie cackled at your dismissal, not willing to let you get away with such a lie.

"It's Sam." Brookes eyes widened as her head snapped up in your direction.

"Ellie!" You hissed.

"Sam Kiszka?" Brooke pressed, her eyes never leaving your face. "I never thought that would happen again." Your face burned red, embarrassed and annoyed at their persistence.