Nothing Left - Colby Brock

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I am NOT taking requests on Wattpad, if you want to have a request done, you'll have to go to my Tumblr; LightenUpBrock. This is just so I keep my priorities straight.

Summary; "ok so after seeing colby's newest tweet, pls can we have a colby x reader where colby has a nightmare and the reader comforts him?"

Warnings; little bit of angst, swearing and fluff

Word Count; 1,259 words

Pronouns; Female

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Your eyes squint at your phone to read the tiny words on the app

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Your eyes squint at your phone to read the tiny words on the app. Trying to make your brain focus on them, and stop being blurry for half a second.

Maybe it's just your brain's way of telling you to go the fuck asleep. That it's past midnight and you should be in bed, so you're be refreshed for once in the morning. It's been protesting this entire last week, trying to get you on schedule for something and you've been resisting.

So, these past couple of days, you've laid in bed alright. But you haven't taken the time to actually close your eyes and try to sleep until it's hitting two to three in the morning.

You're not sure why.

Of course, you're getting the symptoms of being tired, but you aren't feeling tired the second your eyes are shut. So, what's the point exactly? Lay in bed until you're finally ready to sleep?

You go to bed the same time Colby does, and you'll normally lay there with him, making sure that he's asleep before you continue on to your shenanigans. Which consists of checking up on all the social media updates you might've missed during the day.

Late night tweets, games that you have to get your daily stuff on.

And then just playing games in general. And your latest craze has been BitLife, so there's countless hours you've spent on the app, going down the drain. All because you want to get all the achievements you can.

Also to wreak havoc, since you can't really do that in your real life time.

You've actually put yourself, and your friends into the app, so it's funny to see the outcome of certain things. Like your daughter will get married to Colby or Sam or something.

Anyway, back to the original point, you don't go to bed when your body wants you to. It's always on your schedule, not what your brain practically begs you for. Why would you ever listen to that thing?

Although, in most instances, it's right. You feel tired when you get up in the morning, because you're probably getting at most nine hours of sleep. That's under the assumption that you're waking up at eleven. Most times, it's before that.

Colby's always getting up earlier than he used to. It's because of traveling, filming videos with the guys, and actually being active. Unlike how he used to be, when he would hole himself in the room at the trap house.

You know that pretty well, because you shared the room with him. The times that the guys would be downstairs, and you'd have to go tell him to join them, were more times than you can count on your fingers.

His whole demeanor changed. He got the apartment with you. Which means that there is no downstairs. There are no roommates, and it's just you two. A couple of lovebirds with an apartment to yourselves.

You think he would hide because of the fact that more times than not, someone would ask him to film a bit. When most of the time he'd just want to grab a snack or something and go right back to the room with you. To hang out just you two, maybe Sam is he felt intrusive sometimes.

Again, you're off topic.

You need to sleep.

Sighing, you close out of all the apps you've opened. Then, you set your phone on the bed stand, and then you grab your water bottle. After taking a couple of drinks, you cap that again, put it down, and then turn over to fact Colby.

You notice something is wrong, just by looking him over. His forehead has a thin layer of sweat coating it. And he looks a little distressed.

When you squint at him a little, you can see the tears on his cheeks, accompanying the sweat.

Out of instinct, you place your hand on his shoulder. A small moment of hesitation goes through you, telling you that you probably shouldn't wake him up. But if you were having a nightmare, he would do the same.

You start by shaking him lightly, so he doesn't bolt up straight, "Colby, babe."

It doesn't work, so you shake his shoulder a little harder, and that's when he jolts, eyes opening quickly. They sweep the room instantly, until they land on you. And that's when he sits up, throwing his arms around you.

Your whole-body presses against his bare chest as he tries to catch his breath. You can feel him press his face to the side of your head, keeping you close to him.

"Are you okay?" you ask quietly, and he doesn't respond instantly.

It takes him a couple of moments to hum, and you rub his back in the meantime. Trying to comfort him the best you can, because sometimes when you come out of nightmares you need a moment to collect your thoughts.

You know from experience. Colby has done this for you many times. Sat patiently with you in the dark as you held on to him. Trying to bring yourself back down to earth for his sake, so he'll be able to go back to sleep.

And so that you can marvel about the nightmare later on. Not when you're keeping your poor boyfriend awake for nearly thirty minutes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You ask softly, squeezing him in the process.

"Yeah," he whispers, pulling away from the hug, but he still has his hand in yours. Looking over you hungrily, as if you're going to disappear right in front of him at any time.

You wait for him, so he can tell you on his own time.

His thumb rubs over the back of your hand as he looks down at them, "It was about... everything,"

Your eyebrows draw together, "Everything?"

"Like—the fans have been... they've been saying things. About me, and how I don't care about them or whatever." He says quietly, and the realization crosses your mind quickly.

You squeeze his hand, scooting closer to him a little, "Not everyone understands how busy you are, and that you miss things, Colby. I'm sure that a lot of people would stay even if you did something wrong."

"You... and Sam and everyone else left too—I did something wrong I guess and you all just picked up your stuff and left." He sniffs slightly, and you can see the tears gathering in his eyes again.

You hug Colby, laying your head on his shoulder as he puts his arms around you. There's a stifled sob, before he presses a kiss to your cheek, burying his head into your neck so that he can cry.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"I don't know why you're apologizing, Colby," you laugh lightly, "I wouldn't leave you unless it was something major. I've lived through your pranks, you going on trips, the jail incident—everything. I'm not going to pack up now and go. Unless you want me to, of course."

"No," Colby says, "I don't want you to go. And I don't think I'll ever."

He pulls away, and you offer him a smile, "Good, cause I don't want to go anyway."

Colby smiles back at you, then he presses a kiss to your lips, before hugging you again.

"Need to call Sam or something?" You ask.

"No, I just want to hug you." Colby laughs, "You smell good."

"Thanks." You laugh, "I love you."

"I love you too." Colby sighs, "Thank you."

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