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lovelybunn · 1 year

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𔓕 ▒⃡ ‧ 𓐄 drunken heartache .

part two.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤnext...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤprevious...

pairing: stan marsh & best friend!reader

synopsis: wendy left poor STAN MARSH for the official and final time, and he was devastated about it. depression hit him like a bus, until by some miracle, you showed up, and practically saved his life. a friend like you was just what stan had needed for quite a while, but what if he wanted more?

word count: 1.7k

warning(s): depression, of prns she/her, fem!reader, swearing, slight mentions of misogyny, jealousy, mutual pining, angst, blood, vomiting, alcoholism

THE LOUD ringing of Stan's alarm clock rudely woke him from his slumber. The pounding ache against his temples caused Stan to groan, "I couldn't have drank that much..." Stan sluggishly sat up from his bed and checked his phone on the nightstand. 6:25. "Shit! I overslept!" He flew off his bed and rummaged through his drawers, picking out some jeans a t-shirt, disregarding whether any of it matched. Stan slid his shoes on and headed out the bedroom door, treading towards the bathroom.

It was locked, so Stan knocked twice. "What do you want, turd? I'm trying to poop here!" Shelly screamed from the other side. "TMI much?" Stan muttered. "Sis, can you please hurry up? I'm gonna be late to the bus." Shelly huffed in frustration. "No! It's not my fault that you slept through all twelve of your alarms. Maybe if you didn't laugh your guts out on the phone with that random girl last night, you wouldn't be so tired." Stan squeezed the bridge of his nose. The headache got worst with his irritation.

"Shelly, can you at least give me the toothpaste and my toothbrush? I promise I'll leave you alone if you do." Stan heard an agitated "Fine!" before both items were chucked at his face. "Thanks." He said halfheartedly, rushing downstairs to brush his teeth in the kitchen sink.

Stan squeezed out an excessive amount of paste onto his toothbrush. He turned on the tap and started scrubbing at a fast pace. His gums bled, but Stan could have cared less. His dad walked in from the living room, draped in nothing but his underwear and a robe, a steaming cup of coffee held delicately in his hands.

"Morning, son." Randy slurred, extremely relaxed. Stan raised his eyebrow in mild concern. "Morning, Dad. You sound pretty good this morning." Randy belched, then rested his arm on the counter. He took another huge swig of his coffee. "Mhm. I put some bourbon into my coffee this morning, best decision ever. Don't tell your mom, though." Stan's father hummed, Stan stared at him. "Dad, isn't coffee a stimulant? I don't think your supposed to mix drugs together." Randy scowled hard at Stan. "Oh, shut the fuck up, Stanley! You can't tell me what to do, that's my job!" Stan shrugged and walked out of the kitchen, his fingers tried to detangle the mess that was his hair.

Stan ran back upstairs to his room; midway, he face-planted straight into his mother. Sharon spun on her heels to face him. Stan looked down, face flushed with embarrassment. "Stanley? Honey, what are you still doing here? Shouldn't you be on the bus by now?" His body sunk deeper, his back slouched. "I slept in. I'm sorry." Sharon touched Stan's shoulder gently, which made him look back up at her. "It's okay, sweet-pea. Shelly told me about you and Wendy, that must've been hard on you. I'll take you to school, just hurry up and finish getting ready, I'd hate for you to miss the bus and be late for school." He thanked his mom for her hospitality did exactly what she told him to.

The moment Stan made it inside the school, he checked his phone. The clock read "7:04" but his battery percentage read "12%". Some of his notifications were of Kyle spam texting him wondering where he was with a few extra messages of Cartman being the usual dick he always is. He cleared all of them, casually walking toward their spot. The gang wasn't sitting there, but some familiar faces were.

Stan took out two painkillers and swallowed both down his throat dryly. "Hey, Craig, Tweek. Why is there basically no-one in here?" The couple exchanged a look Stan couldn't quite read; Craig replied. "Kyle and Eric are fighting outside." "It was stressing me out, so we decided to stay in here." Tweek added, his hands shook uncontrollablly. Craig stroked his boyfriends back in a comforting manner and nodded. "Yeah, you should should go stop them before it escalates any further." Stan stared at them with a look of pure worry stuck on his face. After a small moment he glanced away and treaded toward the outside exit.

Someone came walking through the door, but Stan shoved them out of the way to get closer to his friends. The person shoved him back and he turned around, ready to cuss someone out before he realized who it was. "Kenny? Dude, what are you doing? Aren't you gonna try and stop those two idiots?" Kenny flashed his teeth at Stan in response, pointing at the newly found injury. Two of his upper ones were loose and bleeding. Stan glared downward and shook his head. "Shit.." He glanced back up and questioned, "What happened, man?" Kenny sighed, licking off the excess blood off his gums. "I tried to pull Kyle away from Cartman, but he just elbowed me in the face. I was gonna go get a teacher to finally end all this, before you came along."

Stan rolled his eyes and pushed the door open to the grassy area of the school. A large circle of students crowded around Eric and Kyle, both of them pretty beaten up already. Cartman had an extremely dark black eye on his left lid while Kyle's nose kept spilling out nasty chunks of blood. Kenny dug his nails into Stan's arm. Stan side-eyed him. "What? Don't be a snitch Kenny. Just let me do what I need to do. I'll finish whatever the fuck is going on, I promise." Kenny loosened his grip and hissed in Stan's ear. "Fine. But trust me, Stan, it's not gonna work. They've been doing this shit since we got here." Stan yanked his arm away and pushed through the crowd, giving a dirty look to anyone who tried to get in his way.

As Stan inched closer into the middle of the circle, He stood on his tip-toes to see all that was going on. He shut his eyes as Kyle took a heavy blow against his ribs. He didn't think Cartman could fight, but after all these years, maybe he's taught himself to be better just to spite Kyle.

A guy in the crowd yelled a greeting Stan's way; he whipped his head toward them. "Hey Stan, my man! How's it like knowing your girlfriend broke up with you because-" Clyde started. Stan jerked at his collar and forced him to look up at him mid-sentence. "How the fuck do you know that? Who told you?" Stan ignored the surrounding stares as he pulled Clyde closer to his face, red hot with anger. "Kyle said it at the beginning of the fight." Clyde cowered, his hands shaking in fear up in the air as a sign of surrender. Stan scoffed and dropped Clyde, the poor jock falling miserably to the ground. Stan kicked the boy out of the way and marched further into the circle. It didn't take him long to make it to the very front, but when he did, the sight was devastating.

"Do you realize how absolutely fucked up that was? How could you do something like that to him? Do you even care? Or are you too much of a self-absorbed piece of shit?" Kyle spat; sweat dripped down his forehead. Cartman groaned in annoyance and ran his fat fingers through his hair. "Oh my god, you're still going on with that? If anything, I'm doing him a favor. You saw how controlling she was." Kyle shook his head back and forth in an antsy manner before screeching at the top of his lungs, "Controlling?!" Stan leaned into the crowd, he bit his lip so hard it started to bleed. "You're the biggest control freak out here, Cartman!" Kyle blew many reckless punches at Cartman. He desperately tried to block all of them, but the poor guy ended up even more bruised up than before. Kyle was trying to kill Cartman at this point. Stan couldn't bear to watch anymore.

Stan marched in between the two and pushed them off each other. The crowd screamed words that were unintelligible to Stan. "Stop!" Stan yelled, his stern voice echoing through the small outdoor space. Cartman and Kyle froze, dumbfounded. The people surrounding booed and criticized Stan for "ruining the fight". Luckily, the crowd died down due to the roaring of the homeroom bell, which caused most of them to scurry back into the building.

Stan sighed, exchanging a disappointed look across from Kyle and Cartman. "Guys.." Kyle reached over and touched Stan's shoulder, his thick ginger brows furrowed in distress. "Stan, I'm so sorry-" Cartman rudely interrupted him to add, "Yeah, you should be. How could you go through your own best friend's phone and pretend to be some random chick he used to know to convince his girlfriend that he was cheating on her?" Stan tilted his head at Kyle. His frown deepened. "What is he talking about?" Kyle grabbed Stan's hands and squeezed them tight in his own. "Don't listen to Cartman. He's the dickhead who did all that. He created fake texts and everything." Stan gulped down his spit deeply. Now he really wished that those pain killers worked emotionally too.

"So that's why she left me." Stan croaked. His fingers curled into a tight fist. "Oh come on, Stan! It was gonna happen eventually! At least she didn't let you down too hard!" Cartman exclaimed behind him, his hand patted at Stan's stiff back. "Shut up, fatass!" Kyle snapped. Stan slowly turned his head towards Cartman. "You've went too far. Just... leave." Cartman stared at Stan up and down before shrugging. He walked back in without a second thought.

The moment everyone else left as well, Stan wrapped his arms around Kyle, his fingers digging deep into the other boy's shirt sleeves. Stan buried his head into the crook of Kyle's neck. "God fucking damnnit..." Kyle patted Stan's back more gently than Cartman, "Dude, it's not your fault. Things will get better, I promise." Stan nodded, swallowing the vomit threatening to escape his throat. He coughed, "Who was she?"

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