#cbs ghost x reader

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Forbidden Fruit.

That’s the thing about Declan - he always gets what he wants. It might be wrong… but it feels so right.

declan o’hara x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. use of the c word. age gap. cheating. declan’s filthy mouth needs its own warning.

word count - 2.3k

authors note - that man is a munch and I cannot be convinced otherwise. my crush on aidan turner has returned tenfold and i’m about to make it everyone’s problem. read declan’s dialogue in that gorgeous irish accent of his for the full experience.

masterlist. inbox.

You’ve fake laughed so much this afternoon that you can’t remember what your real one sounds like.

Finally breaking away from a conversation with Freddie’s wife, you swan across the garden in your sundress towards the food and drink table. You absentmindedly pick at the strawberries, hoping and praying that no one bothers you for a moment. All you need is a minute to yourself, away from all of these faux smiles and boastful exchanges.

Reaching towards a raspberry, you feel fingertips ghosting across your back quickly.

“Y’alright?”

You’d recognise that voice anywhere, of course, and not just because he’s the only Irish man in The Cotswolds.

“Bored out of my mind, actually.”

“You’d never know.”

“I’m a good actress, these days. I’ve done one too many of these stupid garden parties.”

He chuckles all genuine and honeyed, and you’d be lying if you said the sound didn’t settle warmly in your bones.

“Whatcha doing tonight?”

He’s keeping his voice low, inconspicuous. You’ve both turned so you’re looking out over the garden, backs to the table, watching the crowds of people and their gossiping. To anyone else, it looks like an innocent conversation between two acquaintances. They can’t see his hand playing with the hem of your dress behind you, or the way his fingers keep brushing the backs of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.

“My boyfriend is coming over. You know that.”

“What time?”

You roll your eyes but answer anyway.

“Nine.”

“So what I’m hearing… is that you’re available from whenever this crap finishes until then?”

“That’s a stupid idea.”

“You usually love my stupid ideas.”

“Well maybe I’m trying to be smarter.”

He laughs with his full chest while you fight to keep the grin off your face, shaking your head.

“You’re already the smartest person here. Any smarter and we’re all doomed.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Declan.”

He pauses for a moment, pressing his side into yours and running his thumb across the soft skin of your thigh underneath your dress.

“I think we both know that’s not true, sweetheart.”

Your breath stutters as you will yourself to get it together, desperate to not repeatedly give in to his murmured promises and flirty remarks. It’s wrong. You know it is, both of you do, and yet…

“I want you gone by eight at the latest. I don’t need the two of you bumping into each other on my front step.”

He smirks like the cat that got the cream, looking down at you with lust drunk eyes.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Promise to make it worth your while, yeah?”

“You always do,” you breathe out, so quietly that you’re surprised he hears.

He’s about to reply when you’re both startled by Rupert, striding over with the confidence of ten men and a bottle of champagne in his hand.

“Have they run out of glasses, CB?”

He slings an arm around your shoulder, laughing that rich man’s laugh right into your ear.

“Live a little, darling. Walk with me, will you? I have a story that might be worth your time, and I thought I’d bring it to my favourite journalist before anyone else.”

Rupert all but drags you across the garden, already chattering on about a scandal in the local constituency of the Conservative Party. You cast your eyes back to where Declan hasn’t moved, his gaze roving over your figure as you walk away.

He winks cheekily, dirty smirk slapped across his face.

You hate the way it sends electricity running through your veins in anticipation.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s six forty five when there’s a knock on your door.

The devil himself is standing on your front step, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Hi darlin’.”

His accent is like molten honey, golden and warm and laced with sweetness. There’s mischief running through it though - as there always is.

“Come on,” you urge, grabbing his tie and pulling him inside, worried that one of your neighbours will see.

He laughs as he shuts the door behind him, unphased by your urgency.

“Thought you had a meeting. CB was telling me all about it earlier.”

“Rupert would tell you anything,” he chuckles. “He’s got a soft spot for pretty girls.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” you giggle, undoing his tie from around his neck and hanging it on your coat rack.

“No. I have a soft spot for one pretty girl.”

“Sweet talker,” you tease as you roll your eyes, undoing the first few buttons on his shirt. “How about you put your money where your mouth is, hmm? We don’t have all night.”

He clicks his tongue, hands finding your hips to pull you against him.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in so his lips brush yours. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Less talking,” you scold, grabbing at his biceps to kiss him desperately.

Declan pushes you up against the wall, hips pressing into yours as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and whiskey and those mints he keeps in a tin in his back pocket. He scatters open mouthed kisses across your neck, licking across your skin and sucking the spot underneath your ear.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he mumbles. “Ever since I saw you in this dress.”

“You like it?” you breathe, head rolling to the side to give him more access.

“I fucking love it.”

“Good. Bought it for you.”

He groans, grinding his hips into yours.

“You’re a minx,” he pants, biting at your shoulder. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

With that, Declan wraps his arms around your middle, practically dragging you into the living room to throw you onto the sofa. He pulls your dress over your head, throwing it onto the floor with reckless abandon.

He instantly gets on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs with rough hands.

“Been waitin’ for this cunt all fuckin’ day.”

Your underwear is tugged down and discarded before you can blink, leaving you naked and high on the anticipation of it all. Your lungs are heaving, hands shaking as you will him to do something.

Declan sits back on his haunches, making a show of rolling up his sleeves. He looks so broad and commanding in his blue jeans with his shirt undone. He might be the one on his knees, but he’s definitely still in charge here.

You tangle your fingers into his dark hair and tug, pulling him closer.

“Please, Dec.”

“You sound so beautiful when ya beg.”

He grips your thighs tightly, ensuring they stay apart, as he leans in and presses kisses to any skin he can find.

“Don’t tease.”

“Or what, hmm? What are ya gonna do, sweetheart?”

“Stop it,” you chastise, head dropping back onto the cushions. “Please, baby.”

He chuckles before diving forwards, licking a stripe through your core. He wastes no time, tongue flicking over your clit like he’s done so many times before.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, fingers gripping his hair tightly. “Fuck, Declan.”

You’re convinced he enjoys this just as much as you do. He’ll eat you out for hours, never once expecting something in return - happy to feel you fall apart on his tongue again and again and again.

He knows exactly which spots will have you arching your back, how much pressure to use to have you writhing on the sofa cushions, where to put his hands to push you right over the edge. He can play you like a fiddle, observant and experienced.

His nose nudges your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, messy and wet and completely committed. The grip he has on your thighs is getting tighter and tighter, fingertips bruising your skin. You pray you’ll be able to see the marks when you look in the mirror tomorrow.

You’re teetering on the edge of your release, legs shaking and abdomen tightening. Declan can read you like a book, knowing exactly where you’re at - and taking advantage of it.

Just as you’re about to come, he pulls away and sits back, grinning like a deviant.

“No,” you’re panting. “The fuck are you doing?”

He laughs, leaning down to rest his head on your leg. He looks up at you with a gaze that’s half lust and half mischief, biting at his lip as he watches your chest heave.

“What do you want, darlin’?”

You pout at him, tears welling in your eyes.

“Come on, let me hear you say it. I want you to beg me to make you come. Tell me how you’ve been waiting for it all day, sweetheart.”

“I-Declan, I just-”

“Come on smart girl, use that big brain of yours. Why don’t you tell me all about how you think about me when you touch yourself? No - why don’t you tell me how you think about me while he fucks you?”

Your hips buck up into the air, desperate for any kind of friction. Declan laughs cruelly, wrapping his arms around your thighs again to pull you to the edge of the sofa, the strength he exerts only turning you on more.

“It’s okay,” he soothes against your core. “You don’t have to tell me. Your dripping wet cunt tells me everything I need to know, darlin.”

All you can do is moan, breathing like you’ve run a marathon. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel is Declan O’Hara.

“If we had the time, I’d edge you some more. Eat you out until you cried. You always look so pretty when you’re crying f’me.”

He finally takes pity on you, curling his tongue inside you as his nose repeatedly bumps against your clit. He’s practically making out with your core, saliva dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa. You can’t bring yourself to care about the mess, more focused on the older man’s mouth and the skills it possesses.

You’re whining, fingernails digging into his scalp as you grasp for something to hold onto. He’s groaning too, having just as much as fun as you are.

“Come for me, pretty girl. Show me how fucking beautiful you look.”

Your back bows off the sofa as you grind against his face, riding out your climax. Your thighs tighten around his head, desperate for him to keep going for as long as possible.

“That’s it. Atta girl. There we go.”

You’re trying to catch your breath as Declan stands up, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. His fingers draw patterns on your hips, absentmindedly calming you down as you nestle into him, seeking out his body heat.

You lean up and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth eagerly. He tastes like you, and the realisation makes you whinge.

“Let me return the favour, please,” you whisper against his lips.

“As much as I’d love that, darlin’… we can’t.”

You quirk a brow at him in confusion, his rejection more than unusual.

“It’s twenty past eight.”

“Oh, shit,” you groan, finding your underwear and pulling them up your legs.

“I wish I could stay,” he reassures as he kisses you again sweetly. “You know I do.”

You nod, running your fingers through his sweat soaked locks to move them out of his face.

“Promise I’ll repay you next time.”

“I’ll hold ya to that.”

The phone ringing startles you both, your heart jumping in your chest. You pick it up quickly, wrapping the cord around your finger.

“Hello? How are you? Ah, good. Yes, fine. Alright, I’ll see you then. Yes, see you soon. Mhmm… I can’t wait either.”

You put it down just as quickly as you picked it up, finding your dress from the floor and pulling it over your head.

“That was Patrick. He’s at the train station, about to start the drive back here. He won’t be long.”

“I best get going then,” Declan says as he buttons up his shirt. “Don’t need a family reunion in your living room now, do we?”

You shake your head, scoffing at his attempt at a joke. Walking him to the front door, you press his tie from the coat rack into his hand so he doesn’t forget it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I? You’re coming for lunch at the house?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you say as you lean up to kiss him, sighing at the taste of his lips. “I’ll wear that lacy white lingerie under my dress just for you.”

“Great,” he groans. “Now I have to think about my son seeing that on you when it should be me.”

“You might,” you tease, smoothing out his shirt. “There’s a lot of rooms in that house, Declan.”

“You’re a minx.”

He kisses you once more, big hands cradling your face as he pulls you in.

“See ya tomorrow, sweetheart.”

“Yes, you will.”

You watch him go from your front step, making sure no one sees him leave. As soon as he’s out of sight, you’re shutting the door, trying to tidy the living room frantically. You open the windows, lighting a candle and picking up everything that was knocked to the floor in the lust filled frenzy. You’re covering your tracks as best you can, just like you’ve done countless times before.

You don’t need Patrick asking why the room smells like his dad’s aftershave.

You don’t need Patrick asking questions at all.

a little gift for you, as promised…

@do-it-for-kicks @whytheylosttheirminds @laverna-fanfictions @graceflorence

and of course, if you enjoyed this - throw me a little reblog if you so wish… help a girl out… <3

[multi-fandom-imagine]

I THOUGHT I LOST THIS 😩.

I need to write this again and write something for Trevor Lefkowitz too

[brainrotbeth]

i hate america because it really sucks that cbs ghosts is more popular than bbc ghosts like what do you MEAN trevor from cbs has more fanfics than THOMAS THORNE??? THE OG YEARNER???

[ladydigianna]

who i write for

Harry Potter Universe:

Golden Trio Era:

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Ron Weasley

Draco Malfoy

Enzo Berkshire

Mattheo Riddle

Blaise Zabini

Theodore Nott

Pansy Parkinson

Ginny Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Oliver Wood

Marcus Flint

Terrence Higgs

Marauders Era:

James Potter

Sirius Black

Remus Lupin

Lily Evans

Regulus Black

Pandora Rosier

Evan Rosier

Barty Crouch Jr.

Dorcas Meadows

Marlene McKinnon

Molly Prewett

Arthur Weasley

Lucius Malfoy

Narcissa Black

Bellatrix Black

Rodolphus Lestrange

Rabastan Lestrange

Ted Tonks

Andromeda Black

Riddle Era:

Tom Riddle

Abraxas Malfoy

Eileen Prince

Tobias Snape

Orion Black

Walburga Black

Euphemia

Fleamont Potter

Riordanverse:

Percy Jackson

Annabeth Chase

Grover Underwood

Clarisse La Rue

Zoe Nightshade

Thalia Grace

Will Solace

Nico di Angelo

Silena Beauregard

Charles Beckendorf

Luke Castellan

Leo Valdez

Jason Grace

Piper McLean

Disney Descendants:

Mal

Evie

Ben

Jay

Carlos

Audrey

Chad

Uma

Harry Hook

Gil

Chloe

Red

Bridget

Ella

James Hook

Morgie

Uliana

Hades

Maleficent

The Umbrella Academy:

Luther Hargreeves

Diego Hargreeves

Allison Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves

Five Hargreeves

Ben Hargreeves (Umbrella and Sparrow)

Viktor Hargreeves

Sloane Hargreeves

Fei Hargreeves

Alphonso Hargreeves

Haikyuu:

All Characters

The School For Good and Evil

Sophie

Agnes

Tedros

Hort

Beatrix

Anadil

Chinen

Hester

Dot

Kiko

My Hero Academia

Izuku Midoriya

Bakugo Katsuki

Kirishima Ejiro

Denki Kaminari

Sero Hanta

Mina Ashido

Iida Tenya

Ochako Uraraka

Momo Yaoyarozu

Shoto Todorki

Aizawa Shouta

Present Mic

Midnight

Endeavor

CBS Ghosts

Isaac Higgintoot

Nigel Chisum

Trevor

Hetty

Flower

Thorfinn

Stephanie

Pete

Formula 1

Max Verstappen

Lando Norris

Charles Leclerc

Oscar Piastri

Carlos Sainz

Lewis Hamilton

George Russell

Lance Stroll

Yuki Tsunoda

Alex Albon

Daniel Ricciardo

Pierre Gasly

Oliver Bearman

Fernando Alonso

Mark Webber

Jenson Button

Kimi Raikonnen

Hellaverse

Blitz

Millie and Moxxie (will not write for them separately)

Loona

Octavia

Stolas

Stolitz

Fizzarolli

Asmodeus

Fizzmodeus

Mammon

Satan

Vassago

Andrealphus

Striker

Charlie Morningstar

Vaggie

Angel Dust

Alastor (no smut, he is ace)

Husk

Huskerdust

Lucifer Morningstar

Adam

Valentino

Vox

Velvette

The Vees (poly)

Zestial

Rosie

Sir Pentious

Saint Peter

[neeksparksg]

Ghosts Cbs Headcanons

Sam feels bad for you because you died so young. You think it’s annoying whenever Sam tries to baby you since you were “practically an adult” by your standards. Isaac points out that 14 was not adulthood, even back then.

Sassappis is your favorite ghost to sit with when you're tired of everyone else's drama. You’ll plop next to him and just sit in silence, occasionally making snarky comments about the others with him.

Thor has decided you’re an honorary warrior, dubbing you “Tiny Shield Maiden.” You once pretended to fall just to see if he’d catch you—and he did, dramatically yelling, “THOR SAVE YOU!” while everyone else rolled their eyes.

Alberta has taught you all her jazz songs. You sing them as loudly and out of tune as possible.

You constantly make fun of Nigel’s formal way of speaking. You mimic his British accent to annoy him and get giggles out of the other ghosts. Isaac thinks it’s hilarious but pretends to scold you for “mocking an ally.”

Alberta taught you to snap your fingers dramatically when making a point, and now you do it constantly.

You were angry with Isaac and refused to talk to him for two years. After the first month, you forgot why you were angry, but since he didn’t apologize, you kept giving him the silent treatment.

Flower insists on telling you stories about her wild days in the '60s, and you listen intently, even if you don’t understand half of what she’s saying. “What’s a commune?” you once asked, and she just replied, “Freedom, kid. Freedom.”

Trevor tried to teach you slang from the early 2000s. “No one says that anymore,” Sam tells him, but he insists on teching it to you anyways. He regretted it as soon as you said, “Totally tubular, Trev.”

Isaac talks to you about his achievements, but you purposely get the details wrong to annoy him. “Wasn’t that Hamilton’s idea?” you ask innocently. “It was NOT,” Isaac sputters, indignant every time.

Whenever Jay practices cooking, you like to guess what he’s making based on the smells, although your guesses are often way off. “Cactus stew?” you once asked when he was making pesto.

You still use old Wild West slang, which confuses most of the other ghosts. You’ll say things like,“Faster than a jackrabbit on a hot griddle,” or "Acknowledge the Corn" leaving everyone (especially Isaac and Hetty) scratching their heads. Flower, however, thinks it’s deep, and Sassappis always nods in approval, as if he fully understands. (He does not.) it does not help that you use it wrong on porpouse to mess with them

[roanofarcc]

A MOMENT IN THE IMPOSSIBLE

pairing. trevor lefkowtiz x alive!reader (requested)

summary.  near death experience sometimes gave people the ability to see and communicate with ghosts. what you did know was what a second near death experience meant for your ghostly communication, but you were about to find out. 

warnings. fem!reader, reader gets into an accident but is okay. mentions of injuries but nothing graphic. emotional trevor <3 talks of death (obv).

word count. 3.3K || masterlist

The first time you faced down death was as a small child, bright and plump in your winter coat and new set of ice skates. The frozen pond had been a journey you and your friends trudged to, noses cold but fingers warm under mittens. 

As your skates hit the ice, you embraced the winter breeze and the pleasant noise of blades cutting little grooves on the pond. You and your friends spun, leaped, laughed, and had not an inkling of worry in your minds. 

But the ice wasn’t frozen evenly across the pond, leaving spots only shallowly frozen. Somehow, your friends managed to keep on the thicker ice, but you weren’t as lucky. You glided across the ice with a grin, not noticing the cracks that formed under your blades. Before you knew what was happening, the thin ice crumbled, plunging you into the freezing water. 

The aftermath was foggy, a distant memory that lived under a haze in your brain. But the very moment it happened, the feeling of ice water soaking your winter jacket and your skates feeling weightless under the water, you remembered clearly. You should have been scared, but the plunge knocked the fear out of you, leaving it on top of the pond as an odd peace shielded you from the bitter cold. 

The story was retold years later, swapped at parties, and used as an icebreaker, no pun intended. Someone had managed to pull you, but your heart had stopped. No one was sure if it was an answered prayer, you got lucky, or it simply wasn’t your time to go, and the universe knew that. Whatever it was, you survived, a chill forever itching your bones when the weather turned gray. 

A good story wasn’t the only thing you received from that fateful day. Your second chance at life also left you with a newfound look on life, literally. Not only could you see the living and breathing people milling about their lives, but you could also see those in the afterlife. Everywhere you went, ghosts haunted. Some were so far out of time while others you almost mistaken for being alive. 

Once the initial shock wore off and you accepted that no one would ever believe what you could see, you started to befriend the ghosts you saw, especially those who were alone. Your presence was inviting; they were drawn to you, almost. 

For the longest time, well into your adulthood, you believed your talent came in far and few between, but then you met Sam, and learned she possessed the same ability as you. The two of you quickly fell into a friendship, sharing stories of your ridiculous lives and the characters you had met along the way. 

She eventually invited you over to meet the band of ghosts who haunted her house. 

You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect group to inhabit the old mansion. Each ghost had their quirks, wells of knowledge, and passion for drama. You fit into the odd puzzle that was Woodstone, so much so that Sam and Jay offered you a job at their B&B. 

It was almost perfect. You enjoyed the revolving door of guests and got along great with the ghosts. But luck was a tricky thing, and you couldn’t have such luck forever. 

“Is using ghosts technically cheating, or is it using your resources?” you asked, resting your chin on your hand as you lounged at the check-in desk of Woodstone. 

“I think it's a question of ethics, morals, and whatnot,” Pete replied. 

Trevor, who mirrored your position on the opposite side of the desk, replied, “Unless the rules explicitly against supernatural intervention, I think you’re fine.” 

You smiled. “Can’t say most people put that in the fine print. Though maybe they should. Who knows how many people can see ghosts and don’t tell anyone.” 

“People do get into near-death accidents every day, I’d guess,” Pete pondered. “I doubt all of them gain the ability, but if you and Sam had, who knows. That’s not really something you could ask people casually, though, right?” 

“Not without being called crazy by most people you asked,” Trevor said. “I know if someone asked me when I could see ghosts back when I was alive, I’d think they’d smoked something. Unless…” He trailed off, smirking at you with his signature look you had grown to roll your eyes at. It was a playful annoyance; Trevor was the easiest to imagine he was still alive when you spoke to him. The only disconcerting things about him was his lack of pants, but otherwise he reminded you of the cocky frat boys you went to college with, only he was a little softer around the edges. 

You indulged him, tilting your head to the side in question. “Unless what?” 

“Unless everyone who could see ghosts are hot. Based on you and Sam, those odds are looking pretty good.” 

Pete made a face before he made up an excuse to follow Jay around the kitchen instead of remaining in that conversation. 

You scoffed. “You’re hopeless, you know that?” 

Trevor shrugged, the grin not leaving his face. “What can I say? I have a thing for women way out of my league.” 

“Sam’s married, first of all.” Trevor waved his hand dismissively. “Second of all, out of your league is undercutting it a bit, don’t you think? We don’t exactly exist on the same plane of existence.” 

“Semantics.” 

You admired his persistence. You had never admitted it to him, but you liked Trevor. It made you feel silly; he was dead. Of course, you had a crush on a dead man. Trevor was too charming for his own good, a flirt and a constant presence. It was a recipe for disaster, but you never planned on admitting it, let alone indulging such a thought. You couldn’t even touch him. You didn’t see a way where a relationship was tangible or realistic, certainly not outside the walls of Woodstone. 

He made it very hard to act like you hadn’t thought about him in any romantic sense, with his constant lingering and comments he seemed to only direct at you since you had started at the mansion. 

“How exactly would you propose that ever working?” You phrased the question with a sarcastic twinge in your tone, but a part of you wanted to know. 

Trevor thought for a moment, humming as he pursed his lips. “I guess it’d be a little tough. I’m more of a hands-on kind of guy.” You rolled your eyes once more. “What’d they do in the olden days? Just kinda look at each other? That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” 

You raised your brows in surprise. “Do you think you could handle a relationship without ever touching the person or, you know, leaving the house with them?” 

“All I’m thinking about right now is how it sounds like you’re considering it.” 

You leaned over the counter, nose to nose with Trevor, with the smallest space in between, but that space was much further in reality. Separated by life and death. He stilled, eyes widening. “Unfortunately, I’m pretty hands-on too,” you replied, earning a subtle blush that spread across Trevor’s cheeks. You stepped back with a shake of your head. 

“Wait,” he reached out for you as a reflect, his hand passing right through your arm. With a groan, he threw his head back. “If we could touch, would you consider it?” 

You hesitated, unsure of your answer. He would still be dead at the end of the day, but a part of you did consider it. Trevor was the only person you felt connected to, in a way that leaned romantic, in a long time. Your luck with alive people was slim, but it was difficult to imagine a future with someone who was already dead, while you continued living. 

Instead of giving him a solid answer, you shrugged, at a crossroads. “I don’t know.” 

Instead of looking dejected, Trevor smiled widely. “That’s not a no.” No, it was not. 

“Can I say something that may potentially not help your situation?” asked Hetty as she watched Trevor lament on the sofa. 

He raised his brows. “Since when do you ask?” 

Hetty sat on the armrest of the sofa and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m trying to be kinder on a Thursdays.” 

���Only on Thursdays?” 

“I’m just a woman, Trevor. There’s only so much kindness I can offer,” she huffed. “And I am going to take that as a yes. What exactly do you foresee happening with you and Sam and Jay’s receptionist?” 

A dramatic sigh fell from Trevor’s lips. He had no clue what he saw happening. He knew it was a far-flung idea, a ghost and living being in a relationship. He would settle for a short-lived fling of shared gazes and conversations. That wasn’t like Trevor. He didn’t long for relationships or find himself daydreaming of his crushes. When he saw someone he was interested in, he wooed his way into a date or two, followed by some hands-on activities. Then either they tried to get serious and he ran away, or there was a mutual agreement to keep things casual until someone caught feelings and broke it off. 

Then he died, and suddenly he was acting like someone from the days before the internet and hooking up was cool. He wanted to hold hands, listen to you talk about anything and everything, and all around just be in your presence. His heart was too soft when he was around you; it was weird. 

“Nothing, probably,” he answered after a beat. “She’s alive. I’m dead. I get it.” 

Hetty pressed her lips in a thin line as she observed Trevor with a scrutinizing eye for a moment. “I don’t think I have ever seen you in such a state. You really are torn up over this, aren’t you?” 

“It just seems unfair for us to still have feelings when we can’t do anything about it."

Hetty opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by a panicked Sam, who rushed into the living room. Her cellphone was pressed between her ear and shoulder as she waved over Jay, who had been watching and laughing at videos on his phone for the past hour in his armchair. 

Jay stood up, confused as Sam finished up her conversation. 

“Yes…O-Okay.” Her voice cracked, filled with emotion that was immediately concerning to everyone in the room. “Thank you…You too.” She hung up, dropping her phone onto the coffee table with a sniffle. 

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Jay asked, grasping her shoulders and pulling her into his arms. 

Through tears, Sam explained that you had been in a car accident. Trevor felt his no-longer-beating heart drop into his feet. Your mother had called Sam on your behalf and told her you had died in the ambulance, but by some miracle were resuscitated by the EMTs. You were alive, recovering from surgery in the hospital. 

You were alive, but Trevor felt shaken to the bone. You had died, again. Obvious Trevor hadn’t known you when you were a little girl who fell through the ice, but he knew you now. He cared for you dearly, and the idea of you nearly vanishing from his life hit him much harder than he expected. It felt like the time he was teaching his neighbor’s kid baseball, and the kid swung the bat just as Trevor approached behind him. The bat socked Trevor right in the gut, bruising a rib. That was how it felt to know he had almost lost you and had not even known. 

Hetty’s fingers grasped his shoulder, shaking him lightly with a pinched expression. “She’s alive,” she repeated. “She’ll be all right, right?” 

Sam swallowed thickly but nodded. “According to her mom, she’s set to make a full recovery.” She turned to Jay. “We should go see her. Maybe bring some flowers or…or those cookies you make that she always talks about.” 

Jay wiped a couple of tears from Sam’s cheeks and sniffled himself. “Yeah, of course.” 

Dragging his hands down the length of his face, Trevor tried to soothe the terrible ache in his chest. He wanted to see you, bring you flowers, and ask if you’re okay. But he was suck in that house forever, and you could go anywhere you wanted. He couldn’t even hold your hand or hold you close. 

He wondered if the universe hated him, cursing him with feelings for the last person on Earth he could have. 

It got worse, too, thanks to the questions posed by his ghost-mates. If he didn’t feel so heavy with your absence that haunted Woodstone, he would have strangled Sass for putting the worry in his head. 

“You don’t think a second near-death experience will reverse the effects of the first one, do you?” Sass wondered aloud. 

Trevor stared at him, wide-eyed. 

Alberta hung her head. “Now, why would you ask that right now?” 

“It’s not a bad question,” Hett said. “What does two near-death experiences do to a person if one gives them the potential to see the dead?” 

“Or it could give someone the ability to be even more interactive,” Isaac suggested. 

Trevor nodded vigorously, panic swelling like a balloon in his chest. “Yeah, I like Isaac’s better.” 

“I hope she can still see us,” Flower sighed. “She’s catching me up on the music of today. I need to know more about this ‘One Direction Infection.’” 

Standing beside Flower, Thor furrowed his brows. “Infections no good. Friend lost foot to infection.” 

“Enough talk about infections,” Alberta snapped. “What’s important is that she’s not dead, and Sam said she plans on coming back once she feels better. Until then, we just need to think positively, okay?” She was looking at him, more sympathetically than her usual gaze. 

In the midst of your accident, he realized his crush was far from subtle. The other ghosts, Sam, and even Jay knew. It didn’t help his case that he was clearly the most torn up about it, since he couldn’t come see you at the hospital to ease his worries. Sam tried to tell him you were doing just fine and recovering better than the doctor predicted, but without seeing you with his own eyes, Trevor wasn’t convinced. 

On top of that, he started to worry that you had lost the ability to see him since the accident. What if you couldn’t? What would he do? How would be cope? How would you cope if such a big thing ceased to exist in your life? Would he have to spend the rest of his ghosthood playing telephone with you through Sam? Oh, he just couldn’t stomach all of that. It made him sick, couch-riding for days. He hardly moved, hardly thought of anything else. None of the ghosts, Sam, or Jay could ease his worries. 

It wasn’t until you arrived back at Woodstone did Trevor stop his wallowing. You stood in the doorframe of his bedroom, smiling lightly. Your arm was in a sling, and there were splotchy bruises on your face. 

“Hey, Trevor,” you greeted. He let out a breath he’d been holding since he first heard you were in an accident. His lungs relaxed, his heart unconstricted.

“You can still see me,” he said, more to himself than anything. 

You furrowed your brows, confused. “Of course I can,” you replied. “You were worried about that?” 

Trevor nodded slowly. “I was worried about a lot of things, all of them involving you.” Your expression softened as you entered the room, a slight limp in your step. “Sam said your heart stopped. Y-You died. And then Sass wondered if, when they brought you back, it would change your ability to see us because that was how you got it in the first place. And I kept thinking, ‘what if she can’t see us anymore?’ It freaked me out; really, really, freaked me out and-” 

You approached him, eyes wide and worried, as you said his name softly to stop his ranting. “I’m okay and I can still see you,” you reassured him. “I didn’t think you’d be so worried about me.” 

He scoffed, almost offended. “Are you kidding me? How could I not be? You’re…” he trailed off, a soft sigh falling him his lips before he turned on his heel. He didn’t like being so vulnerable, not in front of someone like you. 

As he turned his back to you, starting toward the window to collect himself without having to look you in the eyes, you reflectively reached out as you would have anyone. It was a hard habit to break with the ghosts, reaching out. Before your mind reminded you that your hand would only phase through him, your fingers brushed against the fabric of his suit jacket. 

Startled, Trevor spun around as you gasped. Your fingers didn’t phase through his ghostly form like they were supposed to. No, your hand grasped his jacket as if he were alive and standing in front of you. 

“What is happening right now?” he asked, staring at your hand on him. 

You sputtered for a response, pulling your hand back before you reached out again, thinking maybe the pain medicine you were on was playing tricks on your mind. But when you neared his arm, you didn’t pass through him again. You touched him, fingers curling around his forearm, which was impossible. 

Trevor stayed impossibly still, scared he’d break whatever weird illusion he found himself in. “Y-You’re not dead, right?” 

A startled laugh escaped your lips. “No,” you whispered. “I’m alive but…” You trailed your hand up the length of his arm, pausing on his shoulder before you met his gaze. “I don’t know how this is possible.” 

Trevor’s hands shook slightly as he reached out too, his fingers hesitantly brushing your sweater. No pain enclosed them, which often occurred when he’d phased through a living. The soft fabric of your sweater met his fingertips, solid and real under his touch. 

He could touch you. He was touching you. It felt like a dream, one he had many times before, but that time he wasn’t sleeping. 

A part of him was scared that whatever was happening wouldn’t last; he didn’t want to waste a moment of the real dream he found himself living. He grasped the sides of your face with both hands, feeling your soft skin under his fingers. That alone was enough for Trevor. To feel you, to feel real himself. 

You studied him with a soft gaze and the prettiest smile on the planet in Trevor’s eyes. You leaned in just a little, brushing your nose against his, a dramatic beat in your heart at the contact. 

Trevor seized the moment, unsure if he’d have another moment outside of that one. He closed the small gap between the two of you, pressing his lips against yours. 

The kiss was the desperate kind, the unknown if it was first and last that you’d share or the start of many. It didn’t matter in that moment. All that mattered was the firm pressure on your lips and the softness of Trevor’s thumbs lightly brushing your cheeks. His hands cradled the sides of your face like you were the most important thing he’d ever held. 

You kissed his back feverishly, savoring the feel and taste in case that was all you got. 

It wasn’t until your lungs started to scream at you did you pulled away from the kiss, but you remained as close as you could get to Trevor, scared to let go. 

Maybe it wouldn’t last, or maybe you had thinned the veil between your life and death just enough to be able to touch the dead. You had no idea if it was a fluke or a permanent effect. It didn’t really matter in that moment because you had Trevor in your grasp, and he had you in his. What came after was miles away, something you’d worry about later. You only cared about drinking in that moment, savoring the impossible while it lasted.

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

Little Things

Summary: Maybe there are a few little things in the afterlife that make it a bit more worthwhile.

Word Count: 1,539

Trevor x Ghost!Reader Masterlist

You watched the argument with mild amusement. Your eyes bouncing back and forth like a volley between Alberta and Hetty. You had only been half paying attention to the conversation before it became a full out disagreement. Something about Hetty taking Alberta’s time with the ray of sun in the library. 

Ridiculous. It was, but it was also the only source of entertainment you had. Your head resting in the palm of your hand you sat perched on the edge of the couch. One earbud in your ear, you chewed on gum. Little things, you breathed out. If you had to spend eternity like this at least you still had that. Music and gum. You’d never been more grateful for being an over packer in your life, well, afterlife. 

“How long have they been going at it?” 

You didn’t have to turn to feel Trevor next to you. He had a way of hovering. Not that you minded. Trevor was…

“About an hour, maybe more,” Sas replied. He crossed his arms leaning back in the seat next to you. “I lost track a while back.” 

“I’d aim for closer to two hours. And if I had anything better to do, I would have given up a long time ago.” You turned your head to the side, your eyes finding Trevor. 

Trevor had that grin on his face. The one you had learned meant he was plotting something. His eyes glinted in that mischievous way that just screamed trouble. Trevor must have taken your expression for interest because he plopped down next to you, his knee bumping against yours. 

“Funny you should mention that. I wanted to -” 

“There you are!” All three of you turned to see Pete walking towards you grinning at you. “I know this might be an odd ask, but I wanted to see if you would help me with a little project of mine? It’s well it is Valentines Day, or at least I think it is. I lost track a few months back, and I wanted to…” Pete paused to look at Sas and Trevor. “Well, it’s a surprise and I wanted to see if I could get your help?”  

“Sure, Pete,” you breathed out, a small smile on your face. You stood up from the couch, half listening to Pete as he prattled on about the surprise. You were nearly out of earshot when you thought you heard Sas say, “Oh, man you are so far gone.” 

Shrugging, you tried to give Pete more of your attention. Something about a little surprise gathering for everyone to celebrate together. 

It sounded…nice. There wasn’t really much to look forward to anymore, but Pete was trying. And that was more than you could ask of anyone. 

“I was hoping, well, I wanted to see…you know you are the only one who…” 

“Pete it’s like you’re trying to ask five questions at the same time. Pick one,” you let out a warm laugh, enjoying the way Pete was stammering. 

“You are the only one who has access to music, and I was kind of hoping you might share it with us - just for the party.” 

“Pete, Sweetie, it’s an iPod. There is no speaker. The most I could do would be blast it through my headphones and even then it would just be a faint background noise.” 

“It’s something though. I know it would make Alberta happy. You know how much she loves music. And I -” 

“You want to impress Alberta.” 

“Maybe…” 

You let out a breath, Pete was giving you those big brown eyes. Shit, “Okay, okay. But I don’t want any complaints about the song choices. If I knew I was going to die I would have downloaded a wider variety.” 

“Oh!” Pete pulled you in for a hug, “Thank you! You are the best! Amazing!” Pete stayed singing your praises until you were left alone in the library. 

One day you’d learn to say no to him. You only had a whole afterlife to figure out how. 

-----------------------------------------------------

You were sat outside in the grass. The sunlight gleaming through the trees. You laid down, your back pressed into the grass, the feel of the sun nearly intoxicating. The quiet hum of the music in your ear was blended with the sound of the gentle breeze. 

You closed your eyes. 

“Finally found a way to get rid of Pete?” 

The smirk on your face happened instinctually. You opened your eyes to see Trevor standing near you. He crossed and uncrossed his arms before finally dropping his hands to his sides. 

“For the time being,” you smiled at him, “He’s got this big surprise gathering planned for later. Another attempt at wooing Alberta.” 

Trevor let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, I have more luck of getting sucked off then he has telling Alberta how he feels.” 

You let out a groan, “God, you guys need a better name for that.” 

Trevor was smiling at you. That teasing grin that pulled at the corner of his mouth. 

Dangerous. 

“Did you need something, Trev?” 

You watched him swallow, before he shrugged it off. “Hetty and Alberta settled their argument. Just trying to look for my next source of entertainment.” 

You quirked an eyebrow at him, but chose not to pry - at least not this time. 

“Are you going to sit down then, or are going to keep making me look up at you like that?” You were teasing him, you knew it. But watching Trevor, self-proclaimed T-Money pretend to play off flustered had become like a new favorite pastime.

He gave you that smile again. The one that made your non beating heart pull in a way that, even if for a second, felt like you had a beating heart to pound. 

Trevor carefully sat down next to you, a hand at the hem of his shirt to preserve his modesty as he sat down on the grass beside you. It took a moment for him to look at you, before laying down on his back next to you. 

You watched as he crossed his legs at the ankle, his hands settling over his stomach. He turned to look at you, and if you had breath to be stolen you were sure that would have been the moment. 

He simply raised his eyebrows at you. Trying to read you. 

“So, what’s that thing you’re always listening to called again? The CD player thing.” 

You let out a huff of a laugh. “An iPod. Nobody uses CD players anymore. Everything’s digital.” You moved to pull it out of your bag to hand it to him. 

Trevor rolled the iPod around in his hand, before he turned to look at you. Your gaze already on him, shifted to the iPod. Leaning an inch closer to him, you showed him how to move the tracking pad to find a song and clicking the center button to select. 

“I haven’t heard of half of this music,” Trevor’s voice was low. Eyebrows furrowed. He chanced a glance at you, before turning his attention back on the iPod. 

“Here,” you handed him an earbud. Tentatively, Trevor put the earbud in his ear. The sound music fills the space between you both. This Is The Last Time by Le Fever floating through the earbuds. 

You both laid silently in the grass, Trevor’s gaze fixed on the sky above. Your arm brushed against his as you shifted on the ground. 

“You ever get sick of it?” 

You turned to look at Trevor, “Sick of what?” 

“Listening to the same 20 songs over and over again?” He was smiling at you again. There was something there in his eyes that you couldn’t quiet place. 

“20 - Trevor, this thing can hold 30,000 songs.”

Trevor sat up a bit at that, resting his weight on his elbows. “This, this tiny little thing can hold that much music?”

You let out a laugh that had Trevor’s focus only on you. “Yeah, Trevor. We’ve evolved since the ancient times of old. No longer are we confined to the CD holders of the ancestors.” 

Trevor rolled his eyes at you, but the smile never left his face. “You’re horrible.” 

“And yet that doesn’t stop you from always looking for me.” 

Trevor was quiet now. You shifted your gaze from the sky to Trevor. He was watching you intently. “Yeah, well, you’re the only new source of entertainment. Don’t get too excited. T-Money has enough to go around.” 

It was your turn to roll your eyes at him now, a smile threatening to tug at the corner of your mouth. “Ugh, you’re so lame.” 

“Am not, I am perfect 10/10 - looks and personality, thank you.” 

“Sure, Trev, whatever you say.” 

“It’s not my fault you don’t recognize greatness when you see it.” 

A small laugh escaped you before you could stop it. You could see Trevor smiling at you from the corner of your eye. “Alright, T-Money, I think I have the perfect song for you.” The beginning of DONTTRUSTME started to play. 

You watched as Trevor’s face morphed into one of pure confusion into a brilliant smile. 

Yeah, sometimes it was the little things that made the afterlife bearable.

---------------------------------------

Taglist: @kibblesnackz @iamthebeth @the-and-sign-anon

@followingthefanfiction @ambrosia1846 @fudosl

[dutchessofcaladan]

How is Ghosts on its 3rd season and there are NO fics for this man?!

Truly boggles the mind 🫤

[mrsmoonies]

on the second season of cbs ghosts and i need more x reader fics THERES ONLY LIKE ONE AND ITS FOR TREVOR I WANNA READ FOR ALL THE OTHER GHOSTS (especially sass hetty and thor) PUHLEASE

[azurbright]

Hi!!!! I literally never thought I would find a blog that writes for Ghosts CBS, even though I am only up to mid Season 2 so I am jumping for joy rn you are doing the Lord's work and WONDERFULLY too!! ❤️❤️

Anyway, idk if you write for this but can you please do a fanfic of Sasspis having a crush on Fem! Ghost Reader who died in the last 50 years and is pretty laid back and bubbly. But he lowkey doesn't know what to do about it/handle it, since he has his whole 'cool kid' persona that he wears constantly, and his nonchalant 'flirting' isn't working (Cuz Reader is just living her afterlife and bro would literally treat 'hi' as flirting, we all saw the Tree episode 💀)

So it is basically Sas trying to flirt with her by basically just having a normal conversation, and accidentally blurts out his feelings in frustration when she doesn't pick up on any of his 'hints' then you can decide the ending, go wild >:)))

Yess absolutely!!! There just aren't enough Ghosts X Readers out there in the world. I've taken it upon myself to write them <3

Sassapis X Fem!Reader

No content warning other than Sass being the most cringe fail man that's ever existed. Don't worry, he gets the girl in the end.

I didn't have much time to write this before work, sorry it's a little short. And this is my first time writing Sass, so I really hope you like it.

You died recently... well, not exactly recently. You were the most recent ghost to have died, but it wasn't long after Trevor. You died in 2006. So before anything interesting happened but long enough to have more knowledge of technology than the rest.

So you've been here for a little less than twenty years, and you'd say your relationships with the other ghosts were quite good. You especially liked to hang out in big groups because that's just where you felt you belonged. You were happy you got to have this silly little family of friends for all of eternity.

There was one ghost, though, that you weren't sure even liked you. Sass, for the most part, only ever said "Hi" to you. And it's not like you weren't trying to talk to him. It's just when you would. He seemed to get all strange and figedty. You didn't really mind that much though.

Today was different, though. For some reason, while you were watching the television with Thor, he decided he wanted to strike up a conversation with you. "Hey." He smiled at you, an actual greeting.

"Hey Sass, how's it going." You respond your eyes still watching whatever it was on the TV.

"Oh, you know, same old, same old." He crosses his arms over his chest and glances off to the side nonchalantly.

"Right..." you say suspicious, "do you, need something?"

"Oh! Yes! Right, I was wondering," he pauses stuttering, "if you were doing anything later?"

You look up at him and cock your head to the side in confusion, "Yeah, Jay's cooking dinner tonight, we're all gonna be in there." Your eyes close at the idea of Jay's cooking. It always smells wonderful.

"Yeah okay, cool... cool." He then quickly scurries away.

You turn to Thor, who's laughing his ass off, "What was that about?" You giggle.

"Thor does not know, maybe Sass is trying to be friend." Thor continues to laugh.

"Yeah, you're right." You smile to yourself, honestly, you're glad that he's actually trying to come around.

Later that day, you're all in the kitchen smelling whatever it is Jay's making for dinner, and Sass is standing next to you. Weirdly close, but you didn't really mind.

"Hey." He smirks. You question to yourself if he's trying to look cool, because if anything he just looks a little silly.

"Hi, Sass. Are you enjoying the smell of the food?" You ask him, making small talk.

"Yeah, but I'm enjoying the smell of you more." He says.

"...sorry, what?" You turn and look at him laughing in confusion.

"Do you wanna walk the grounds, Jay's seems to be almost finished." He gestures towards the back door.

"Oh yeah, let me get Issac, he loves evening walks."

"No, no no no no," he says quickly, "just me and you."

You nod and start to walk towards the back door, "are you gonna murder me?" You joke.

"Definitely." He responds.

You two walk in silence for a while. At this point, you're really not quite sure what you're doing here. You like Sass, he's cool, but you were quite sure he hated you.

"So, how'd you die?" He asks you.

"You don't know?" You look up trying to remember all the details, he shakes his head, "uhm, well, basically the short of it is, In 2006, I was on a walk with my boyfriend, and he murdered me. And that's basically it, I'm like super over it, though." You laugh, "he was kinda shitty anyway, I don't think he even got away with it either"

"That's awful, dude. Wow" Sass seems to be in awe.

"Yeah, but, you know," you nudge him, "now I have you guys."

"That's so true. You could have me, all of me." Sass seems to blurt out.

"What?" You stop walking and turn to him.

"No, I mean," He seems to be trying to back track, "like, we could be something. Or not! We don't have to, we can just be friends. I've been weird to you, and I know that's weird, I'm weird. You're not weird, you're so nice, and you didn't even notice." He stops.

"Oh my god, this is embarrassing." He shutters.

"No, Sass, I just don't understand what you're saying." You say confused.

"I like you, I guess." He laughs nervously.

"Ohhhhh." You seem a little taken aback. This isn't a bad thing. You've always found Sass to be cute, but you genuinely thought he hated you. Now you realize it was just his stupid "cool guy" persona. "You goofball." You hit his shoulder.

"What does that mean." He looks at you.

"Nothing, just, here." You lean and kiss him on the lips. Only for a second before pulling back to see how he felt about it.

You weren't sure if he shut down or not, "Sass?"

"Please, do that again." He says quietly.

You laugh quickly and then step closer to him, putting your hands on both sides of his face. You tilt your head slightly and kiss him again, this time for a little bit longer, and he actually kisses you back. He hesitantly puts his hands on your waist. "Is that alright?" He asks you.

"Yes." You smile, and hug him tightly. "I'm just glad you don't hate me." You laugh again but this time relieved.

"I never hated you, sorry, I was just trying not to come on to strong."

"I don't think you came on strong enough." You both giggle together embraced in eachothers arms. It was fun, exciting, and different. You never thought you'd get to have anything like this ever again. It was exactly what the two of you needed. Eachother.

[gwens-love]

One second of your time please 🙏 very important

^~^

Okay but why is there only one (maybe two) person writing Hetty Woodstone fan-fictions…What went wrong? 😑

Just look at her… she’s so beautiful

Okay thank you 🫶

[p1nkm1lkslug]

i nneed him in an iv drip 😭

[victoria-dreamer4]

Sasappis x female new ghost reader

Friends and more.

This is my first romance fanfiction so please go easy on me I only choose this character because there's not a lot of him. I also like to say I have dyslexia so if there is this misspelling or phrase is weird. I will fix it later thank you. Also it's going to be short this is more of me trying to do more romantic fanfiction.

(y/n) was a new ghost in woodstone being one of the new recent ghosts. All the ghosts are friendly most of them were one intended to avoid (y/n).

Sasappis was friendly but he avoided the most almost as if he didn't want to talk or was too shy. The other would say something about him acting weird or not acting as itself. So one night when all it ghosts and Sam and jay where sit watch tv. (Y/n) Wanting to join them. Sasappis got up and left without a word "did I do something to make him dislike me" say (y/n). Sam looks at (y/n) " no he's just ummm how do I put it" she looks at hay as if he had a answer.

Jay trying to help his wife say " he's just nervous around pretty girls" Sam looks at him as if he just told a secret. " What Jay is trying to say is. Sasappis thinks you're cute and well the last ghost he thought was cute"

Isaac sighs as he said" stamped on his heart" Alberta looks at Isaac " way to lay it on thing" and she shakes her head.

Albert looks at (y/n) "Sasappis just don't want his heart broken again. He is the only one out of us all to not actually have a partner in life"

Sam nods her head " exactly you see he doesn't hate you it just he doesn't know what to do " jay nod " guy has it ruff."

(y/n) nods her head "alright thank you. It helps that someone told me what was going on." She smiled walking away.

Later that day as everyone was going to bed. (Y/n) Reach out grabbing Sasappis are "can we talk please" (y/n) say softly. Sasappis nod " yeah what's up" he says looking up the stairs then at (y/n). He takes a deep breath as he looks at her.

(y/n) looks at him and says " I was told by the others you find me cute. Well I want to say I do as well but they also told me you're scared of getting your heart broken. So I was thinking we start by maybe talking and seeing where things go" she telts her head to the side waiting for his answer " you don't have to answer now but I will like to get to know you" she smiled

Sasappis looks a taken back he rubs the back of his neck as he smiles " I actually would like that. Um how about tomorrow we go on a walk around woodstone property. Chat about whatever we want " he looks at (y/n).

(y/n) smile and nodded there head " I would like that a lot actually. What time" she clap her hand behind her back. Sasappis thinks" well jay making pancakes tomorrow and I do love the smell of those so um sometime after breakfast " he said

"perfect " say (y/n) waving him as they go to there room. One out of sight Sasappis smile as he walks upstairs feeling like he just won big time.

[audrey-carr1]

The Heiress and the Lady of the House (part 1)

Author's note: Due to a lack of Hetty x reader fics I decided to fix that. This will more than likely be a series! For future writings, I will take requests as well! Please don't be too upset with how i write because I'm still learning how to write for Hetty. We all know she's a simple yet complex lady. We learn as we go. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

warnings: fem!reader, hettyxreader

It was an accident when I stumbled upon the "Woodstone B&B "hiring ad". As a child visiting my grandmother, I remember riding my bike past the mansion. My grandmother used to take me trick or treating there, and the older woman who lived at the manor always gave the children king-sized candy bars.

After a near-death experience as a teen, I've been able to see ghosts. It began to happen on occasion before it became an everyday thing. I would pretend it wasn’t real and ignore every ghost I encountered. Unless they looked sorely out of place, I couldn't really tell if they weren't living anyway. Ignoring all of them had worked...at least up until I walked into the Woodstone B&B.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So is there a history convention in town or something?” I ask Sam teaches me the basics of the B&B website.

“Um no, why do you ask?” Sam questions nervously

“Because of the people in costume? Do you not see the Viking and Revolutionary officer in front of us?”

Sam gasps, “ Oh my gosh You can see them!?”

“She can see us?!” The two men ask.

“Am I not supposed to?” I asks

Sam quickly takes my hand and leads me into the living room. She has me sit and takes a seat in the spot next to me.

“What I’m about to say is going to seem absolutely insane,”

“Okay?” I say unsure of where Sam is taking this.

“This place is haunted, and everyone you see besides me and Jay are dead,” Sam explains

I didn’t mean to burst into laughter, but I did. How could something so absurd be true?

“My word what is all of this laughter about? Can you plebians be joyous outside of my napping hours,” a voice says

I turn to see a red-headed Victorian woman descend the main staircase. We both lock eyes and I feel as if time has stood still. My heart starts to beat a little faster and are my palms sweating? I could be mistaken but is that blush on the other woman's cheeks? "Can ghosts blush?" I ask myself

The redhead quirks and eyebrow before breaking the silence, “You can see me?”

Suddenly unable to speak I nod still looking into blue eyes.

“Hetty, this is (y/n). She is our new employee,”

“And she can see us? She’s not dead? How can you see us?”

Finally finding my words I reply, “I can see you, I’m not dead, and I’m not sure as to why I can see you but I can,”

“Did young girl fall and hit head like Sam?” The Viking asks

“I don’t remember falling recently,” I reply

“Have you always been able to see ghosts,” Sam turns and asks me.

“It’s a long complicated story, I’d rather not get into,” I say.

The redhead purses her lips not enthused by my answer. Soon I hear whispering of what I assume are the other ghosts.

“It’s okay guys, you can come out,” I say not sure of what could happen next.

Entering the room is a flapper, the Viking, the war officer, a hippie, an oversized Boy Scout, and a man without pants. My mind is filled with questions, but mainly I'm wondering why that man doesn’t have on pants. Before I can question his attire, Sam begins introducing everyone.

“There is one more of the main 8, his name is Sassapis, but we call him Sass. He’s out on a walk with Crash, our occasional headless ghost.”

“I see, well it’s nice to meet you all,” I say to them.

“Well go on tell us about your little cute self,” Alberta says “We want to know everything,”

“Well okay I’ve graduated college with a (insert major) degree, and my grandmother recently passed and left me with more money than I know what to do with. Which means I'm technically a heiress. I’m not sure I want to go into my field of work yet, that probably has something to do with my imposter syndrome. I’m an only child, my parents passed away when I was 19. Oh, I love jazz! I actually play piano and know almost all of the Jazz standards, my favorite pizza is pepperoni, and after reading a dystopian novel series I got into archery but that didn’t last long. Let’s see what else,” As I try to recall information I notice the redhead Victorian woman, Hetty looking at you. I begin to blush as I start my next sentence, “I was crowned queen at my senior prom, I love playing vintage Super Mario Brothers in my spare time, My favorite fish to cook is cod, I have a stuffed teddy bear named Daisy, and my favorite musical of all time is Hamilton,”

Isaac, the revolutionary war officer, scoffs and throws his hands up in exasperation while Hetty pats his shoulder while holding back a smirk.

“What about the juicy stuff, like do you have a significant other and have you ever killed someone?” Alberta asks.

“Oh well," I say a little overwhelmed, "I do not have a significant other, I haven’t even had my first kiss yet. To answer your other question, I have not participated in a murder at least not to my knowledge,”

“Sam you have to keep her! She’s perfect for the job,” Flower says

“Except for the Hamilton thing,” Isaac says off the side.

“Plus she’s incredibly hot,” Trevor says. “Not like Tara Reid hot but she’s almost at your level Sam,”

Everyone rolls their eyes at his comment, “I find it best if you ignore his comments. He’s harmless ” The victorian woman who's the name I've learned is, Hetty, whispers in my ear and I try to ignore the sudden butterflies in my stomach. I don’t need to add attracted to a ghost to my resume.

“Well it seems like everyone is on board with you being here even though you were already hired. Why don’t we go back and get some training done,” Sam says heading back to the front desk.

I go to follow her, but I trip over my untied shoelace. Before I can hit the floor, I find myself caught by a pair of soft hands.

Everyone gasps, and I can tell it wasn’t from the fall.

“Did Hetty just catch a living?”

-end-

A/N: Oh I hope y'all don't hate it! This is the first fanfic I've written in about 11 years, so I'm a little rusty. As I said before this is the first part of this many-part series. I may even add this to AO3. Tell me what you think! Until later!

[roanofarcc]

THE ONE

 pairing. alive!reader x trevor lefkowitz

summary. (requested) It would have been fun if you would’ve been the one.” 

warnings. g!n reader, mentions of death, feelings of unrequited love, not proof read

word count. 3.3k || masterlist

The boredom of the mansion was quelled the second a new guest arrived to check into the B&B. Trevor shot up from his spot on the couch and followed the group of ghosts out of the living to the front desk where Sam and Jay stood, happily conversing with the guest. For a moment, Trevor was excited to see what the guest looked like; as a ghost, he had to take what he could get. His love life had fallen to shambles and the only thrill he got anymore was ogling attractive guests as they arrived. 

However, when the guest had turned around for a moment to pick up their duffle bag from the floor, Trevor felt a quick flood of emotions enter his body. He stopped short of the desk with his throat suddenly dry and hands clammy. 

“Are you in the area for business or a little vacation?” Sam asked, making her usual small talk. 

You pushed the duffle bag over your shoulder and cleared your throat. “Uh, neither.” Your voice was different than Trevor remembered, older and a little deeper than it had been, which made sense. You were older but still the same height you were in high school. Maturity was written across your features, but he still saw the remnants of your youth that he had once memorized. 

Maybe he was dreaming. He had dreamed of you before, both before and after he died. In college, he had thought about calling you every time your birthday rolled around or when one of his friends said something funny that he knew would’ve made you laugh. But every time he chickened out, figuring you still hated him. Instead, he saw you in his dreams like some embarrassing rom-com where you came back together when you were a little older and he was less of an idiot. Then he died and he dreamed of all of the things he would have done differently if he had a redo button. But he genuinely thought he’d never see you again. When you hadn’t come to the memorial his parents put on for him, he knew his dreams were pointless. His parents hadn’t even mentioned you, meaning you were probably well moved on and married or something. 

“This might sound weird,” you continued, smiling sheepishly. “But you actually held a memorial for my…friend a couple of months ago. Trevor Lefkowitz.” The ghosts all snapped their heads in his direction but all Trevor could get himself to do was stare at you. Something about the way you hesitated before calling him your friend made his stomach ache. 

Sam’s eyes widened as she looked at Trevor too for a moment. “O-Oh! Yes. We did. Trevor. You knew him?” 

“Yeah and I wanted to come but I thought it would’ve been weird. I wasn’t close with him when he died. We were friends when we were kids. But the more I thought about it, the worse I felt about not coming. So I figured I’d pay my respects. That and when I visited his parents they wouldn’t stop talking about this place.” 

He snapped out of his daze and stepped forward, standing beside Jay and getting a better look at you. He felt bad about it, but the first thing he did was look at your left hand. You didn’t wear any rings and while he knew it was so stupid, he felt relieved. 

“Sam,” Trevor said quickly. “You gotta talk to them. Please.” He couldn’t hide the desperation in his voice. 

Sam obliged with a nod of her head that was directed at him. “If you would like to, after you get settled in, you could tell us about him. Trevor. I mean, after we got his parents' side of who he was, Jay and I have been interested in what he was like to his friends.” 

Jay furrowed his brows. “We have?” Sam shot him a look that he understood right away. “Ohhh. Yeah, we have. For sure.” 

You thought about it for a moment, fiddling with a room key in your hand. “That would be nice,” you said. 

“No pants wants you to talk to them?” Jay said after they all were gathered in the kitchen, waiting for you to finish getting settled into your room. Jay worked on making lunch while Sam put on the kettle for tea. Trevor sat at the table feeling too many things at once. It was one thing seeing his parents. They were his parents and they loved him no matter his screw-ups. But you were under no obligation to forgive him. In fact, he figured you’d be mad at him forever and he’d spend life and death regretting his choices. Yet, you wanted to talk to some stranger about him?

Sam sighed, taking the seat across from him. “Yes,” she replied to Jay. “For a childhood friend, you don’t look too happy to see them.” 

“No, that’s not it,” Trevor said, sinking into his chair. “I messed things up with them, big time, before I left for college. I don’t know why they’d want to pay their respects to me after all these years.” 

It wasn’t too often he garnered looks of sympathy from Sam or the ghosts. The only other time was when his parents came and he learned he was a child of divorce. All he wanted to do was hug his mom, but he couldn’t and he felt like a little kid lost in a grocery store. Alberta hugged him instead, which was not quite the same but close enough.

“What’d you do?” Sasappis asked. 

It was more about what Trevor didn’t do. He didn’t tell you he reciprocated your feelings after you confessed the night before you both moved away to different colleges. At the time he didn’t want to be held back by his hometown; he wanted a fresh start to be someone else. It was stupid in hindsight because he didn’t change that much in college, he learned to like the person he was, quirks and all. And he didn’t realize that you didn’t hold him back, you made him better. But by the time he figured all of that out, he heard you had some boyfriend and moved across the country. He missed his chance and figured you hated him. 

“Hi.” You poked your head into the kitchen and Trevor sank down further into the chair. He felt guilty, hot and festering in his veins even though there was no blood in his body. 

Sam turned around in her chair. “Hey. Take a seat. Jay, can you pour the tea?” 

With a nod, Jay made the tea while you took the seat beside Sam as you observed the kitchen, unaware it was occupied by a series of curious ghosts and Trevor. 

“So, you still talk to Trevor’s parents?” Sam got right to it, a bit too eagerly. “Because you heard about the memorial from them,” she clarified. 

You thanked Jay as he sat down your mug. “Yeah. I didn’t for a while, not until I heard that he died. They called me, tracked down my number and everything. I was surprised. Trevor and I hadn’t talked since the night before we both left for college.” 

“Oh,” said Sam. “Did you guys have a falling out or something?” 

“Yeah, of sorts. We were dumb kids and said some things we didn’t mean. At least, I did. I’d like to think that he did too but I didn’t get the chance to ask him.” 

Trevor tried to ignore the burning gazes of his friends but it was impossible; they wanted to know every little detail, that much was clear on their faces. Even Sam and Jay looked engrossed in your words, curious to know more. 

“Well? Did you?” Hetty asked, nudging Trevor’s shoulder. 

“Of course I did. I was a dumb kid, like they said.” He let you walk out of his life and tried to convince himself it was better that way. 

“The truth is,” you continued. “I thought I knew him better than anyone. We grew up together and he was my best friend. But maybe I didn’t.” 

Trevor felt like was going to cry; it was awful and pathetic. He was the one who walked away and thought a couple of weeks would pass by and you two would be able to pretend like your conversation had never happened. But it never did and he was too stubborn to reach out. Then weeks turned into years and you grew up while he regretted letting you go. 

“Best friends at age are tricky, especially when you’re leaving for college. I know one of my best friends and I got into this weird fight before we left for college. I was scared she was going to find a new best friend. And she did,” Sam laughed uncomfortably at the memory.

You smiled kindly at Sam’s rambling. “I was scared he was going to fall in love with someone at college before I got the chance to tell him I loved him. But I wished I would’ve kept it to myself. Then I at least we would’ve stayed friends.” 

A couple of gasps sounded from behind him and Sam’s eyes widened as they flickered between him and you. “Y-You loved Trevor?” 

A sad smile pulled on your lips as you held onto your steaming mug of tea tighter. “Yeah. And after I told him he said he wanted a fresh start in college. A blank slate. Not a partner. He didn’t like me that way and I overreacted, walked away, and avoided him for a while. He never reached out; I figured he found what he was looking for in college.” 

He buried his head in his hands and stifled a groan. 

Sam hesitated before continuing. “That’s… terrible.” 

“It was all so stupid in hindsight. I always thought about reaching out, just to check in. The night he died I even dialed his number that I found in the phonebook. I was going to call but decided against it. Then two weeks later his parents called me to tell me he died and I couldn’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if I had called. He was here, he wasn’t even home so it wouldn’t have changed anything but I…I don’t know.” You nervously played with the button on your shirt, looking at anything but Sam and Jay. “Sorry. I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this. I don’t even know you and it’s not like you knew Trevor. It’s just...I haven’t talked about him to anyone. I’d feel bad bringing any of this up to his parents. And being here…I don’t know.” 

“Don’t apologize! His parents said the same thing when they were here. I guess if you believe in spirits maybe…maybe his is still here. But that’s…crazy.” Sam was a bad liar but she was lucky her ability to see ghosts was so insane no one would think she’d be lying about that. 

You hummed, taking a sip of tea. “That’s a nice thought.” 

Trevor wanted to talk to you; he wanted you to see him more than he was sure he wanted anything “Oh, man,” he groaned loudly. “I should have called. I should have-” Pete placed a hand on his shoulder, looking down at him sadly. He wanted to curl into himself and disappear. 

“I’m sure he felt the same way. He probably wanted to reach out too,” Sam offered in an attempt to make you feel better. 

Jay nodded. “Oh, yeah. Trust me, I was a dude in college once. There was not much going on up here.” He tapped on his forehead. 

“Maybe,” you shrugged. Trevor wished he could tell you for certain that he had been an idiot and he regretted it still. He loved you back, he just didn’t realize it until you were out of his life. What if he had said so that night? Would he still be alive? Would you two have been married? There were a million different outcomes of his life that played through his head at a dizzying rate. “This is probably weird for you guys, learning so much about some guy you didn’t know but died in your house.” 

Sam and Jay exchanged a look. “You know, it’s almost like we did know him.” 

You ate lunch and didn’t bring up Trevor again, neither did Sam and Jay despite the buzzing questions the other ghosts spit out at you and Sam. It wasn’t until you left that Trevor felt like answering them. 

“Oh boy,” Jay whistled. “That was rough, no pants. How’s he doing?” 

“Bad. Obviously bad!” Trevor said. 

“Bad,” Sam repeated to Jay. 

“Well, I mean, what’s his side of the story?” Everyone turned to Trevor, but Sam answered before he got the chance. 

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say he realized he felt the same way after they stopped talking, right?” 

Trevor huffed. “How’d you know?” 

“It’s written all over your face, honey,” Alberta said. 

“And he never told them?” Jay asked. 

“I thought about it,” Trevor signed. “A lot, but I thought I lost my chance. And now they’re here and I still can’t tell them the truth.” He wanted to tell you, not to have it translated through Sam. And there was a slim chance you’d believe her anyway. Believing in ghosts was one thing, but trying to convince someone that not only were ghosts real but the ghost of an old friend who was actually in love with you was in front of them was a whole other thing. 

Sam frowned. “He thought about it but figured he missed his chance,” she told Jay. 

“Man, this sucks,” Jay replied.

“You could knock over vase again,” Thorfinn suggested. “Maybe they fall downstairs and die or see us like Sam.” 

“No!” Sam was quick to shoot down that idea. “There will be no murder attempts, guys.” 

“There’s gotta be another way for no pants to confess his feelings without someone else dying in our house. Seriously, that’s a lawsuit we do not have money to pay for,” said Jay. 

“You know what’s romantic?” Isaac began. “Letters.” 

A gasp fell from Hetty’s lips as she tugged on Isaac’s arm excitedly. “Yes! Have Sam pen a letter.” 

“You could say everything you wanted to them without having to first convince them ghosts are real,” Sass added. “It could work.” 

“That’s a great idea!” Sam said, earning a confused look from Jay. “I’m going to write them a letter from Trevor telling them about his feelings.” 

Jay nodded, impressed. “That could work. But how are you going to explain to them why you have the letter?” 

“Just tell them Trevor’s parents found it and brought it to the memorial thinking they were going to show up,” Alberta said. “Say they forgot it and you held onto it for some reason.” 

Sam explained that to Jay before she rushed off to find a pen and paper. Trevor nervously tried to gather his thoughts. It was a lot of pressure, putting everything out on a piece of paper, but he had to do it for both himself and you. He couldn’t go another moment without you knowing that he did reciprocate your feelings and that you were the only person who knew him so well. He needed you to know how much you meant to him and how he regretted letting you walk away in the first place. He should have chased after you the second the realization hit him like a truck. He should have shown up at your dorm like he imagined himself doing a hundred times over until he talked himself out of it. 

After Sam returned she and Trevor were left alone. He spilled his guts. Every regret, everything he didn’t say, she wrote down. He admitted to loving you too but being too much of a coward to admit it after he let you go. He told you how he missed you but he wanted you to be happy; that was all he had ever really wanted. And for a while, when it was just the two of you in high school, that was what he tried to do. He didn’t know why he thought stopping was the right move, but he couldn’t take it back. All he could give you was the letter of his feelings. He hoped it was enough to bring you both closure. 

After it was written, Sam went upstairs to deliver it. She knocked on your door and sucked in a deep breath before it was swung open. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” you said. 

“I found something that belongs to you.” Sam held out the letter and you took it with an odd look. “I forgot about it until a little bit ago. Trevor’s parents brought this letter with them to the memorial, but they left it here and I, well I’m not sure why, but I kept it. And when you were telling us about Trevor, I remembered I had shoved it in a drawer. Super weird, I know, but it’s all yours.” 

You flipped over the envelope to see your name scrawled across the front. Sam awkwardly lingered in the doorway for a moment before she realized you weren’t going to open it with her standing there. She let you be and returned downstairs to a nervous Trevor pacing back and forth across the kitchen. 

“Did you give it to them?” he asked, chewing on his nails. 

“Yeah, I think they’re reading it now.” 

You didn’t come out of your room for a while and Trevor wondered if you’d even read it at all. He guessed he couldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t. In your head, he was someone else, some asshole who didn’t even call you on your birthday, so you didn’t call him when his rolled around a couple weeks later. Maybe you had saved face for Sam and Jay and deep down you really hated him. Maybe you threw the letter away and were busy packing your bags. 

But then you showed up, eyes rimmed red, and clear tears streaked down your cheeks. Trevor didn’t know if he was relieved or worried. 

“Are you okay?” Sam asked, abandoning her cutting board on the counter where she was helping Jay with dinner. 

You smiled, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “Yeah. I just wanted to say thank you for this.” You held up the letter. 

Sam sent a small smile in Trevor’s direction before she ushered you into one of the kitchen chairs. “Dinner’s still cooking but while you wait, how about a chocolate chip cookie?” 

Your eyes widened slightly before your brows furrowed. “Chocolate chip? Those are my favorite.” 

“Oh, what a coincidence,” she said, looking once more at Trevor who stood in relief mixed with something else that was warm but nice inside his chest. He knew they were your favorite, which is why he told Sam to make them. He still remembered most things about you. 

And now you knew how he felt after all that time. You knew that he didn’t forget about you. In life and death, there would always be a soft spot he had for you and dreams of what could have been but never was. At least now you knew he had loved you and he regretted not owning up to his feelings; he hoped that gave you some kind of closure. He hadn’t been much for spilling his feelings when he was alive, but death had changed him a little and he didn’t want you to go the rest of your life thinking your feelings about him had been misplaced and unreciprocated. You knew the truth and you seemed at peace with it. 

Pete appeared beside him, clapping him on the shoulder gently. “You okay?” 

Trevor nodded. “Yeah. I think I am now.” And he hoped you were too and that you’d continue to be until you were old and gray, living your life out to the fullest.

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

Backwards Walk

Summary: Trevor tries to help Ghost!Reader find a little closure.

Pairing: Trevor Lefkowitz x Ghost!Reader (eventual)

Words: 890

Trevor x Photographer Ghost!Reader Masterlist

“You can’t be serious,” you said, your expression a cross between amused and agitated. 

“Oh, dead serious,” Trevor grinned at you, bumping his shoulder against yours. 

“You’ve been hanging around Pete too much,” you sighed, turning to walk away. Your hands clutched firmly to your bag. Trevor was trying, you couldn’t fault him for it. You’d been a bit off the whole week and oddly enough Trevor of all people had been the one to notice - to actually say something about it. 

Flower had tried, you thought - for about five minutes before she rambled on about her bank robbery. 

“Come on, aren’t you just the least bit curious?” He prodded, his brown eyes locked on yours. Trevor looked almost like an excited puppy, nearly bouncing in anticipation as he stood in front of you. 

“Maybe,” you replied, watching as his expression morphed into one of pure glee, “But,” you added, “I don’t know if I have the patience to wait five hours while you try and look everything up.”

“I don’t take that long!” He argued, “let’s see you try and do it faster,” he grumbled under his breath. 

“What was that?” You said, challenging him. There was a faint smile on your face as you watched him. Trevor was…Trevor, but he was trying. You could count the number of people on one hand who had bothered to try so hard for you - at least while you were alive. 

“Are you in or not?” Trevor raised his eyebrows at you, a mock serious expression on his face. He began rubbing his hands together, his eagerness on full display. 

“Fine, fine,” you acquiesced. 

Trevor, gave a triumphant fist pump and set to work opening the web browser. You stood next to him as he painstakingly looked you up on Facebook. Trevor had had the bright idea to look you and your friends up to see what everyone was up to now. You, of course, had been hesitant about it. You were dead. You’d been dead for over ten years and the thought of seeing everyone move on without you, well, it felt pretty shitty. But, he wasn’t wrong, at least not completely. Maybe seeing everyone would help you move on. At the very least, stop making your after life feel like an eternal hell of reminiscing. 

It was almost an hour later when he finally got to your old Facebook page. The layout was completely different - you didn’t like it. You should have just stuck it out with MySpace, you thought, was that even still a thing?

“Wow,” Trevor said softly. His eyes focused on the computer screen before looking at you. 

“What?” You asked a bit more nervously than you would have liked. He was giving you that look again. The glimpse of something soft around the edges before the smirk came back. 

“Nothing, it’s just sometimes I forget you’re actually just capable of a real smile.” He was giving you a toothy grin as he pointed to your profile picture. 

“Oh, shut up,” you playfully shoved his shoulder. “I smile and laugh. Pete just told me a dad joke earlier.” 

Trevor gave you a look of disbelief. 

“What? Okay, it was a lame dad joke, but he’s funnier than you.” 

Trevor gasped, “You take that back.” 

You let out a warm laugh, you closed your eyes and shook your head. “Sorry you can’t handle the truth.” 

“Careful there Pinocchio,” he pointed his finger at you before getting back to work on the computer. 

It was painstaking, but Trevor took the time to try and go through as many of your friends' profiles as he could. 

Most of your friends were in relationships. Some were married, others had kids, everyone had moved on. Everyone but you. 

Trevor circled back to your profile, he was going through some of your photos now. He was silent now, something that got your attention more than anything else. 

“I didn’t think you were capable of being quiet,” you said, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. 

Trevor ignored your comment and pointed at a picture on the screen. “Did you take these?” 

You glanced at the screen, your smile growing smaller. “Yeah, I had a thing for old historical buildings,” you shrugged, “look where that got me.” You let out a humorless laugh, “I should have stuck with my candids.” 

“You were good,” Trevor turned to really look at you now, “really good.” 

You felt your throat get tight, your hand gripping onto your bag strap once more. Your camera and earthly life were all in that bag. A stark reminder everyday of what you no longer had. 

“Yeah, I guess I was,” you said softly. Your eyes looked from Trevor to the computer screen. 

“Trevor?” 

“Yeah?” 

You turned to look at him fully now. You’d never seen Trevor so…defenseless before. 

“Thank you,” you smiled at him. 

“Anytime,” he grinned at you, “Another success story in the bag thanks to T-Money.” 

You rolled your eyes and turned to walk away. 

“Oh, come on! It was a T-Money win!” 

You kept walking up the stairs, but the smile never left your face. You’d never tell him, but Trevor really did have a way of making you feel a little less alone. There were worse ways to spend forever. At least T-Money was entertaining.

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