You Don't Mean It ||Staig||

||Part Seventeen||

TW: Cursing, Abuse, Fluff, Smut, Sexual Actions, Cigarettes, Smoking 

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Stan fumbled around in his dimly lit room. It was around 6pm, and he was supposed to be doing his sister's homework, not getting ready for a pointless teenage dance. He glanced down at the blue carpet as he pulled a white dress shirt on over his head. 

There lay a messy pile of college level questions that needed answers. Stan sighed heavily as he buttoned his shirt. He knew he should be happy about going... and he was. He just wasn't looking forward to getting beat by his sister once he got home. 

Maybe he could start her homework now...? Prom started in about two-ish hours... so he had a little bit of time. Slowly Stan ran a hand down his face with a groan. He gently picked the papers up in one swoop and held them in his hands. 

His blue eyes scanned over the questions as he placed them down against his desk. Before he started, Stan pulled on a pair of black pants over his boxers. He sat down with a huff and then pulled a pencil out from the little cup on his desk. 

His phone sat besides his hand as he started to work. Stan bit his lip nervously as the phone stayed still. He glanced away after a while of waiting for the screen to turn bright. His hand traced over the paper slowly as he stared down at the unanswered questions. 

Stan gave one more defeated sigh before he put the pencil to the paper. As he worked through the questions, he felt like crying. He knew his sister would murder him if he messed something up. Stan was a smart kid... but pressure like that would fuck with anyone's mind. 

Stan almost jumped out of his skin once he heard something slamming against his door. The pencil slipped from his hand as Stan fumbled to get up from the chair. He pushed the spinny chair away as he stumbled to the door. One final slam shook the door before Stan quickly pulled it open. 

Shelly stood behind the door. Her brown hair looked messy and fluffy as usual. 

"Fuck are you staring at?!" She yelled. Stan stumbled back with a squeak as Shelly shoved his chest. Stan caught his balance before he slammed into his wall. Shelly snorted in discontent before she eyed Stan's desk. "You doin' my homework, you fucking nerd?" 

Stan swallowed heavily as he began to claw at his arm. "Yes... Shelly." He muttered. Shelly bent down to take a closer look at the worksheet. She furrowed her eyebrows once she saw the "answers". 

There were black scribbles were numbers should have been. Shelly straightened herself up quickly and stormed over to where Stan was standing. She shoved him in the chest again and watched as he bounced back against the wall with a groan. 

"Are you fucking with me? You turd!" Shelly voiced loudly. Stan felt his skin prick with a cold sweat as Shelly stared him straight in the eyes. He looked down at his feet to avoid her glare. Shelly sucked her teeth before she grabbed Stan by the arm he had been scratching at. 

Stan tried to pry his arm free as Shelly yanked at it. 

"Shelly please I'm sorry," Stan paused and winced as Shelly's grip tightened. "I'll do better. I-I can do better, just please stop." He begged her. His eyes slowly drifted up from the floor, but they never met Shelly's directly. 

Finally Stan's phone buzzed. Shelly turned her head to where the sound was coming from. She dropped Stan's arm immediately and dashed to snatch his phone. Stan held in his breath with an anxious look as Shelly snatched the phone up from the table. 

Quietly Stan begged her with to not look, but she did anyways. After a long and awkward pause, Shelly's face twisted into an evil and devilish smile. Stan braced himself for the worst as Shelly opened her mouth.