STANNARRATOR ONESHOTS! :]

Stanley's a fucked up thing

SUMMARY: Stanley, being himself, is a deranged man with little to no will to live. Narrator, an empath, pushes him to a state of exhaustion 🤭

CW/TW: Uhhhh passing out? Exhaustion? Idk??

"Stanley!" Narrator yelled, waking Stanley up to a new reset.

Stanley had fallen asleep, but of fucking course Narrator had to wake him up. This is precious time! Not like they both can't age or die.

Groaning from pain and exhaustion, Stanley got up and stumbled out of his office. He was too tired to actually want to think, so he just mindlessly went to the Freedom ending and triggered the next reset, where he was forced out of his office again.

Stanley wished the coffee machines worked, he could really use an energy boost right now. He was forced through a few more resets before he collapsed face first onto the floor, mid-step.

"Stanley? Stanley! Get up! We've got a story to get to, oh come on! You were doing so well, don't stop now!" Narrator said, his soft words pulling at Stanley's heartstrings.

When Narrator received no reply, not even a single movement from Stanley, he loaded his character model into the game and came straight to Stanley.

Narrator crouched down, frowning when he didn't get any sort of response. He quickly checked Stanley for a pulse, luckily he had one. Narrator rolled Stanley onto his back, sitting on the floor and propping Stanley's head up on his lap.

Narrator had to do a double take, Stanley looked so... peaceful, relaxed even. He looked like the first time Narrator had met him. Narrator couldn't help but blush, so many memories of learning his... unhealthy addiction with buckets.

Ah. That's what Stanley's doing. He's sleeping. Narrator didn't know much about humans and their need for sleep, but he did know that the floor wasn't a good place.

Narrator gently grabbed Stanley, lifting him up and snapping his fingers. The scene around them changed, now they were in the small apartment Narrator had made.

Narrator brought Stanley to the bedroom. When he had made this place, he didn't intend for it to be use like this, but now, with Stanley's unfortunate habit of not telling Narrator his needs, it was all Narrator had prepared.

Narrator gently laid Stanley down in bed, taking off his shoes and piling him under the covers. Narrator didn't know what to do while he was waiting for Stanley to wake up, so he just stood there for a second, his hand still on Stanley's cheek. (Not that one, the one on his face, idiota.)

Big mistake. Stanley decided he needed a cuddle buddy, apparently. Stanley grabbed Narrator's hand and pulled him onto the bed. Sighing and kicking off his shoes, Narrator cuddled Stanley under the covers and let him get closer to Narrator.

One of Narrator's hands was landed on Stanley's thigh, the other was around his waist, holding him close. Stanley's arms were both around Narrator's abdomen, keeping himself cuddled up to Narrator's chest.

Narrator didn't find this very uncomfortable, though he would have to look into why Stanley clung to him to tightly.

Narrator looked down at Stanley, trying to fight the overwhelming urge to pepper kisses all over Stanley's face.

He relented, pulling Stanley up closer and gently kissing over his neck. Stanley seemed to relax at this, loosening his grip on Narrator.

Listening to the soft thump of Stanley's heartbeat, Narrator found himself drifting to sleep as well.

Guys, gals, bobs, I'm so tired. Tbh I wrote this in an hour and now I'm going to sleep. Gods, Ily sleep.