cw: 18+ mdni, (kinda angsty but) comfort and smut, icky!daddy k!nk, pet names (kid, kiddo, babydoll)
It was a shit shift, so shit that you sat in your car for 30 minutes. Didn’t turn on the car, didn’t play any music, didn’t even doom scroll, you just locked the door and closed your eyes. Absorbing the silence because you needed it, almost cried from how badly you needed it.
And then you made it back home after a silent drive, gripping the wheel, exhausted and trying your best not to get in a car accident.
You know Keegan is a night owl, down to the way his work hours are set up, he goes in late, comes in early morning. He’s on leave after a 3 month deployment, but his usual schedule is the same. So why did he wake up at 4pm to music blaring from the speakers downstairs?
“The hell are you doing?” Keegan asks through tired eyes, scratching his bare stomach. But he’s doesn’t see you move, not even turning to look at him, your hands are flat on the kitchen counter as you lean on it, trying to feel the heavy loud bass of Black Hole Sun by Soundgarden from the speaker, just something to give you a pulse, that having that job is worth it in the grand scheme of things— anything.
“Kid.” He calls out to you, voice louder than the music, eyes now trained on you. If anyone were to tell if something was wrong with you, I’d be him. Knows you like the back of his hand, knows you can go and go without stopping and that it drains the life out of you. You turn to face him, trying to mask all the annoyance, the tiredness inside you. “Hey, Kee- just- I just-“
“—Don’t gimmie bullshit baby, you knew that’s not what I wanna hear.” He chides. But he’s doesn’t knows you won’t say anymore. Pretty girls been through the wringer, and theres the rule you made, to drop everything at that work shit at the door. But there are exceptions, like this. When all of it has to be pulled out.
“You wanna feel somethin, hm?” He steps closer, boxing you into the kitchen counter as he towers over you. “This,” he nods towards the speaker, bringing his face low enough that he’s in your ear, “it won’t cut it, never does. You just need Dad to make it allll better don’t you?”
You feel your eyes well up, giving him a trembling nod, good. Least you’re willing to let him take care of you this time. “ ‘S okay babydoll, I got you. Always do.”
It’s a resurrection in a way.
Having this big tattooed man, stretch you out on his fingers, legs wide as you sat on the counter, till he’s working his fat hardened shaft past your folds and into your fluttering hole. Giving you slow and calculated thrusts till his red hot tip is puckered up against your sticky sweet spots.
It has your mouth open, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back as you let out a moan of ecstasy. Keegan is deep, his girth so beautifully stuffing you to the brim, you have to claw at his forearms. “Fu- so much- mm- so biiig, ‘s big Dad!”
“Is that right?” He coos, sickeningly sweet, snapping his hips into yours once, mean, has you salivating at how good it feels, he takes your hand, making you cup his face, “need your eyes on me kiddo, focus.”
Your glossy eyes flutter open, mewling as you meet his gaze, so handsome with his chiseled face, veins popping out his neck, “You gorgeous fuckin thing, shit,” he shudders, eyes flickering down to the little bulge in your stomach, the slick coating the base of his cock, then back to you, “Thaaat’s my girl, take me so well don’t you?”
You stupidly nod, moaning again as he thrusts inside you. His grip on your thighs tight while he pounds into you, the loud, squealing of his dick filling you bouncing off the kitchen walls with every probe of his cock in your sultry walls.
You can’t even think straight he way he’s fucking you, like Itll be the last time, vibrations you two making louder than the music you could almost feel it your finger tips.
“Come on babygirl,” Keegan let’s out a huff, guiding your hands to his beefy shoulders, “Said you needed to feel right? Hck- Touch your Dad all over, remind yourself who loves you.”
And you do, Hange touching the few moles at hi shoulder blades, down the few tattoos covering a few scars, the way his abs tighten as he slams into you over and over to his dark happy trial— shit, you clamp down on him, tears spilling out of your eyes, you whimper, “Kee!”
Keegan nods as he looks down into your mesmerized eyes, leaning down so his some of his weight is on you, tip smacking against your g-spot, groaning at your walls molding around him, “Yeaaah that’s all me mama, fuck— Daddy’s right here for you. My precious babydoll.”
The mans got your screaming, toes curling as you let out a plethora of ‘dad, dad, dad.’
Keegan spills inside you, holding you tight as the warms floods your walls. He kisses your forehead, “Fuck, good job kid.”
And just like that, you have a pulse again.
a/n: Black Hole Sun by Soundgarden was the inspo (obviously). Shit end and Not down right dirty dad(dy) kïnk but I think this is sweet.
Pairing: Trevor Lefkowitz x fem!reader (alive!reader)
Summary: A new guest arrives at Woodstone Manor causing an uproar of emotions, especially from one pantless ghost.
A/N: I finally watched ghosts and wanted to write for Trevor. I have not watched the BBC version - though I really want to (so hopefully can get some fics for that version one day)
Don't really know if there is much of a fandom for this show but 100% send requests for more characters/situations for the show.
Credits for borders
“We are just so happy you have decided to stay with us. Really, really happy.”
Sam glanced back at you for the millionth time as she led you and your father through the Woodstone mansion.
“Yes, honey, I think our guests understand how happy and not desperate we are,” Jay spoke through a gritted smile, nudging Sam slightly. He was equally excited to be hosting guests; the B and B had hit a very slow patch, but Sam wasn’t doing well at being subtle.
“Don't worry, we love the enthusiasm.” Your father laughed, his eyes roaming around the building. "It's not often you find young people who are passionate about their work," He sent a small glare in your direction as you adjusted the backpack on your back. Your face remained emotionless, and you silently nodded your head.
Sam sent the two of you a smile, turning back around to lead you - and a crowd of ghosts - to your rooms.
"This guy seems to have some energy," Pete spoke, as he leaned in to inspect your dad. "It's a… little intimidating, but I like it."
While some of the other ghosts agreed with Pete, others were more occupied with the other member of your pair.
"Sam, she’s hot. Like so hot. You have to tell her that she’s so hot,” Trevor pleaded, walking as close to you as he could without touching you. He had been nonstop since the moment your car pulled up into the driveway, sprouting strings of compliments as if you could hear them. The man had always been "fascinated" by the living women that would come into the manor, but after your arrival, he was just acting pathetic.
“Trevor, what did we say about creeping on girls?” Alberta scolded, though she couldn't help herself from eying your father up and down, much to Pete's dismay.
“It’s not creeping on her if I feel a genuine connection,” Trevor argued, waving off the other ghosts in an attempt to get closer to you.
"Yes, because she's really connected with a dead man she can't see or hear." Isaac rolled his eyes, causing Trevor to send him a glare. Before Trevor could rebut the argument, Sam stopped in front of a door.
"So this is where you'll be rooming," She gestured to the spare bedroom, and you nodded your head. "I'll leave you alone, so no one will disturb you," Sam sent a glare to the ghosts, specifically Trevor. "I'll show your father to the room just down the hall."
"Thanks," You spoke quietly as your father sent you a look. "Make sure you don't rest for too long. We have work to do."
You sighed, only nodding at his instructions before entering your 'private' room.
Not far behind you was Trevor, instantly phasing through the door as he rubbed his hands together. “Finally, some privacy,” Trevor smirked, watching as you placed down your bag.
“Not quite,” The voice of Pete spoke up, as he too phased through the door, causing Trevor to glare. “Seriously, man, get lost. I call dibs on this one”
Pete chuckled drily, adjusting his glasses. “Well, you can't just call dibs on a lady, but I’m not here for that. Sam asked me to keep an eye on you.
“Really, I need a babysitter?” Trevor threw up his hands in frustration. “Why does no one trust me?”
“I mean, you do have a bit of a reputation, buddy…and you did do exactly what Sam told us not to,” Pete pointed out, and Trevor rolled his eyes. “Is it that unbelievable that I have a genuine connection and admiration for a total smokeshow babe?”
“If you two are done chattering I have some business to get down to.”
Both ghosts froze, slowly turning around to face you.
You, in fact, weren't on the phone or talking out loud to yourself. You were staring right at them, eyebrow raised as you waited for a response.
“You can see us?” Pete asked slowly, and you sighed. “I can also hear you, so please be quiet as I-”
“Sam! Sam!” Pete yelled, running out of the room instantly in pursuit of their fellow human companion.
You tilted your head, not expecting that to be his reaction. “Why would he call for Sam it’s not like she can-”
Your words got stopped as Trevor's face suddenly appeared extremely close to yours. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said, giving you a cheesy smile as he not so subtly posed for you. He didn't care why or how you could see him; he just knew he wasn't going to miss his shot.
You furrowed your brows, taking a step away. You looked him up and down, finally taking in his whole figure. Your eyes stopped at the bottom half of him, seeing that the ghost was wearing no pants.
Trevor smirked even wider as he watched your gaze. "You like what you see?" He made a move to follow you again, but this time you held out an arm. “If you step closer, I will phase through you. I know it hurts,”
Trevor raised an eyebrow, taking his turn to inspect you. “Firm," He determined. "Which is just how I like my ladies. What’s your name?”
You shook your head. “You dodn;t need to know that, I just need to tell you taht-”
“i already looked at your file, I know everything I need,” Trevor interrupted you, pacing in front of you. “My name's Trevor. But you can call me the man of your dreams.
You let out a groan. “So you must be from the 90s, since no one'sused a line like that in years.” It wasn't often you interacted with a 'flirtatious' ghost, but they were always your least favourite to have to deal with. So far, Trevor was the most insistent one.
“You already know so much about me.” Treovir turned to you with an almost smoulder. “Want to learn some more?”
You rolled your eyes, seriously considering just ignoring this ghost and going to find some less annoying ones. Luckily for you, you didn't have to go hunting as your bedroom door swung open.
You raised an eyebrow as Sam stood there, a group of ghosts huddled around her.
“Can I help you?” You asked in a tone that made Sam question if you could really see ghosts or if Pete had just chosen to pull a cruel prank. “I- I umm-”
“Is it true? Can you see use?” Alberta interrupted Sam, looking at you desperately.
You sighed, pulling Sam into the room, checking the hallway for anyone eavesdropping, then closing the door.
“Yes, I can see you.”
You were met with a flurry of cheers and questions from the ghosts around you.
"Oh my lord, finally someone else who can appreciate my talent."
"Do you have phone? Thor want to watch an animal video."
"I'm just so happy you're here. I hope we're not causing too much trouble."
"Back off, everyone, she's mine."
You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to ignore the flurry of voices now surrounding you. You knew mansions were usually loaded, but you didn't expect so many desperate ghosts all at once.
“This is amazing. I’ve never met someone with the same powers” Sam spoke excitedly, finally giving you an opportunity to get a word in.
“Yeah, well, I wouldn't get too excited.” You spoke, turning your gaze to the now confused ghosts.
“My dad has brought the two of us to kill all of you.”
---
“So you are Ghostbuster?”
You paused at the question, wondering how a Viking knew about The Ghostbusters.
You stood in front of the crowd of ghosts, and Sam, who you finally got to calm down enough to listen to you.
“My father prefers to call us ghost hunters… but yeah, pretty much we're Ghost Busters.”
“Ahh, so this is like a forbidden love. Classic” Trevor spoke up, still looking at you with dreamy eyes. Ignoring Trevor, you took out your notebook. “My father is an absolute phony; he has never once actually hunted a ghost despite his claims.”
Sam raised her hand, and you sighed. "You don't have to do that."
"Right," She spoke awkwardly, still a bit intimidated by your sterner personality. "Don't you tell him that he's not doing it right… I mean, with your powers and everything."
"I haven't told him about the powers," You revealed, causing Isaac to let out a lone gasp. "I just let him believe he's doing anything to 'protect the world from spirits'"
"Well, why would you do that?" Hetty asked, looking offended on behalf of your father. "It would benefit your father's buisness: and the worst thing a child can do is keep profit from their parents"
There were a handful of murmurs from the other ghosts, most of them agreeing with Hetty's statement.
You shrugged, wanting to get back on topic. “Well, I got my powers after he threw me down a flight of stairs when I was 12 because some dude onRedditt said a near-death experience would allow you to see ghosts.”
Isaac let out another gasp as the other ghosts looked horrified.
“I mean, the guy on Reddit was right, but I wasn’t going to let him know that.”
You spoke quickly and casually, only revealing the information to satisfy the spirits enough to get them to listen to you. You felt uncomfortable by their looks of sympathy, as you quickly shook your head. “Look, I'm fine. I’m not here to talk about me, I'm here to help you. Throwing me down the stairs was about the only thing about ghosts my dad got right, but he has some tools that you'll probably want to avoid."
You handed your notebook to Sam, to which all the ghosts leaned over - reading the clear list you had written about the few tools your dad had that worked.
“Ghost bullets?” Isaac questioned, looking up at you with a raised eyebrow.
“They won’t actually kill you, but they’re made of a material ghosts can't pass through. The bullets can get stuck in your…figure.” You weren't sure what to call it since the ghosts didn't have traditional bodies. Trevor just sent you a wink, hearing about his ‘figure’, though you tried to ignore him.
“Yeah we have a secret vault downstairs made of that stuff,” Sam breathed out, and you gave her an impressed look. “Cool,” You simply spoke, though to Sam it was like she had just won the lottery. It was the first time you had given her any positive attention, and she was already ready to brag to Jay about it.
You stood there silently for a moment, watching as the ghosts stared right back. You cleared your throat. “So you can all leave now.”
“OH,” Sam blurted as she quickly stood up, caught off guard by your bluntness. "Right, ok. Can do."
“But Thor has more questions,” the Viking complained, and the other ghosts nodded along, expressing their own frustration with being kicked out.
“Well, Thor can ask them later,” you imitated his voice as you gestured to the door. “I need to start pretending to set up ‘secret ghost traps’ before my dad starts having a go at me for not taking the work seriously.”
"Wow, you really are a reverse Ghostbuster," Pete spoke in awe. "You're a ghost saver or a ghost protector."
"A ghost guardian,” Isaac spoke poetically, as the other ghosts added on their own praises and name suggestions.
They were met with a glare from you, as you pointed to the door once more.
“Out”
All the ghosts, and Sam quickly moved out of the room, not liking the receiving end of your glare.
All but one.
“Yeah, you heard her, get out.” Trevor turned back to you his arms wide opened. “Now where were we?”
"You were about to leave." You spoke bluntly, but Trevor just shook his head. "See that just doesn;t sound like me," he lay himself down onto your bed. "I'm the type of guy who likes to stick by gorgeous women."
You groaned, turning away from Trevor as you got out your tools. You knew you weren't going to be able to get this ghost off your back, so you were just going to have to do a damn good job at ignoring him.
---
The next morning, you sat across from your father, picking at the delicious breakfast Jay had made. Your mind was elsewhere, still tired from the day of 'ghost hunting' you had endured. Your father didn't seem to have the same issue as he shoveled his breakfast down his throat.
“What’s up with you?” The man asked, his mouth still filled with food that muffled his words.
You always hated it when people said the two of you were similar to your father. Despite getting your bluntness from him, you wanted to be nothing like your father. He was cruel and hateful. You only put up with him to make sure he didn't actually disturb anyone's afterlife.
So you swallowed your pride and shrugged. “Just turned. This place is bigger than I expected.”
“That just means we’re more likely to find some ghosts,” Your dad spoke proudly. “I can feel it. There are definitely some here, and if I set up our traps right, I should have already caught a few."
“Maybe,” You spoke, biting your tongue to stop yourself from pointing out that you had been the one to set up all the useless traps.
You knew for a fact there were still ghosts in the house.
Mainly because one had been flirting with you all throughout breakfast.
“Your eyes just glimmer in the morning light, did you know that? I wonder if they always do that or if it’s just from being around me?” Trveor spoke from right next to you, as he lay himself across the kitchen table: his legs kicking in the air.
Your grip on your utensils tightened, though you made sure not to even glance at Trevor. Your dad was an idiot, but you didn't want to risk any chance that he might discover your power.
“You know you're good at this, much better than Sam is,” Trevor continued, as he watched you keep your focus on your father. "You already have a perfect face for the screen; you should really look into acting."
Trevor wasn't sure why he was so obsessed with you.
Well, he did understand that you were a hot woman and he was a ghost that hadn't gotten any action in years, but there was more to it.
When he was alive, he always imagined his wife would be a strong woman, someone who could quip back at his jokes and take the lead. You were certainly amazing at doing that, but you also showed high levels of kindness. He noticed how you always went out of your way to avoid phasing through a ghost, or how you always let them speak to you without interruption…even if your response was just to tell them to shut up.
It had nothing to do with how lonely Trevor was: dead or alive, he knew you were the perfect person for him.
“Look what I brought,” your father spoke up, finally getting Trevor to stop his string of compliments as you both turned your attention to the dagger your dad had brought out.
The blade was made of a clear purple material, making it look like some mythical weapon from a fantasy novel. You knew the object must have cost your dad a fortune to buy.
“I found it on ebay, and it’s meant to rip ghosts right in half,” Your dad excitedly sliced the weapon around, luckily in the opposite direction to where Trevor lay.
Unfortunately, Trevor had a large ego.
He feigned an excited look, sitting up and scooching closer to your father. For the first time all morning, Trevor got a reaction from you: your eyes widened as you watched him lean in even closer towards the weapon.
“Ohhh, what do you think? This thing going to rip me right in half?” Trevor inched closer to it, reaching out as if he was about to grab the blade.
“No!” You yelled out urgently, catching both men's attention. Almost in sync, they both raise an eyebrow at you, causing you to sink back into your seat.
"You should put that away," You spoke in a clamer tone, gesturing to the weapon. "We wouldn't want the hosts to see and get the wrong idea."
“Alright, fine.” Your dad rolled his eyes, though he followed your instructions.
In contrast to your dad’s simple reaction, Trevor looked ecstatic. “Oh my god, you care about me." He pointed at you excitedly. "You were so worried for my safety. Like extremely worried.”
You instantly stood up, frustrated by your lack of a calm, quiet breakfast. “I’m going to go get ready for the day” You spoke curtly to your dad, storming out of the room.
As expected, Trevor followed close behind.
“You can act all you want, babe: I know you care about me.” Trevor looked smug as you closed the door to your room, finally addressing him.
“You need to stop doing that, ok? I can't have you distracting me while I’m with him. It's dangerous.”
“Aww, that's so sweet of you. You don't want your favourite ghost to get hurt,” Trevor spoke in a sickly sweet voice, basking in the fact that you were concerned for him.
“I don't want to see any ghost get hurt.” You defended yourself, but your voice came off less harshly than you wanted to. Your words were soaked in sincerity. You sat yourself on your bed, turning yourself away from Trevor in hopes he didn't notice.
"That dagger doesn't do anything." Trveor chuckled cockily. "Your dad is full of shit, and you know that. Besides, we were playing around with it last night: it's just the usual discomfort from phasing through things. No slicing in half."
You were silent for a moment, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well… I didn't know that" You grumbled, trying not to sound too whiny.
Trevor paused, finally noticing how you were sulking on the bed.
“Holy shit, you were actually scared for me," though his voice was a lot sweeter. “You actually care about keeping us safe.”
You avoided eye contact with the ghost, though you turned your body back around to him. “My dad just isn't a good guy… like at all. I don’t want to see him ruin your afterlife. You guys have it bad enough.”
Trevor thought over your words, the smirks on his face being replaced by a more genuine look. “Well, how about your life?” You finally looked up at Trevor, who inched closer.
This tme you made no threat to him, allowing him to sit on your bed. You gestured with your head for him to continue.
“I mean, if he’s a bad guy, then why do you spend your life following him around. He doesn't need you to keep him in check.”
“So he doesn't hurt you- the ghosts.” You fixed your words, not wanting Trevor to get a big head.
“Look, yeah, it suck beig a ghost, but we’re not useless. We can protect ourselves,” Trevor pointed out, “Your dad is barely a threat even to the most oblivious ghost. You should get to do what you want - not just worry about everyone else.”
You took a deep breath, thinking over Trevor's words.
You paused, looking at Trevor’s genuine expression. “I guess after following sonmeone else your whole life, it’s hard to know what you truly want to do." You spoke out loud. "I do know I don't want to spend anymore time with that man."
"Exactly," Trevor cried in triumph, filled with energy again as you finally agreed with him. "I think you deserve some peace and quiet: away from idiots bossing you around."
You nodded at his words before giving a teasing smile. "Does that mean you're going to leave me alone?"
Trveor made a cocky 'pshhh' noise with his lips. "Please, you don't really want that…do you?" He spoke the last part a lot softer, giving you a genuine opportunity to reject his advances once and for all. As much as he enjoyed his flirting, he knew when to lsiten to someone's boundary.
You thought for a moment, giving enough time to make Trevor ansty. Then you just shrugged.
"What does that mean?" Trevor asked, following you as you stood up. "I'm not hearing you say no."
You just shrugged again, this time a cheeky smirk growing on your face.
"You're doing this on purpose," Trevor whined, though he held a smile on his face too. "Just admit that you're totally in love with me."
The ghost was just met with another shrug.
---
You watched your dad as he packed up his car, leaning up against the entrance of the Woodstone Mansion.
Like usual, the two of you would go your separate ways, he would ignore you for a week, then the next thing you know, he'd be dragging you to the next ghost hunt.
Even just thinking about it made you exhausted.
You did get some satisfaction from watching a crowd of heckling ghosts yelling at him as he entered his car. These were the very ghosts he claimed he captured.
“So are you following him?” You looked over to Sam, who now stood next to you. You took a deep breath before giving a weak shrug. “Guess I have to. I don't really have anything else to work for."
Sam was quiet for a moment, her eyes glancing between you and your dad. “Or you could stay here.”
You turned to Sam, your eyebrow raised as you silently encouraged her to continue talking. "I just think you could go for a less…demanding job. You could still take care of the ghosts here, and Jay and I are more than happy to hire you as a receptionist."
You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. "So I'm guessing you spoke to Trevor about me."
Sam gave you a guilty look, hoping you weren't too upset at her meddling. You sighed, causing her to quickly speak in order to justify her actions. “Look, I think it’s great what you do to protect ghosts, but come on. Your dad’s an idiot. He doesn't need you to stop him from avoiding all ghosts.”
You shrugged, nodding your head. “Yeah, he really does suck at the whole hunting thing.”
“Exactly,” Sam laughed along. “So, how about instead of following that douche, you stay here. I could use someone else who can deal with ghosts.”
You turned to Sam. “So you want me to go from being a ghost hunter that travels the county to a receptionist at an Airbnb?” Sam lowered her head, feeling shame at the mere suggestion.
“That actually sounds really nice.”
Sam looked up to see you giving her the first real smile for the whole trip. As little as you showed, you actually quite liked Sam's company. And the ghosts weren't THAT annoying.
“Yes! Yes! Finally! I knew the world would reward me with a super hot babe one day. She's totally obsessed with me.”
Maybe you spoke too soon. Still, you couldn't help but chuckle at Trevor's celebrations, who had clearly been eavesdropping on the two of you.
You had no idea what you had gotten yourself into, but you were convinced it would be more interesting than the life your father made for you.
plot: an unexpected visitor shows up at the Woodstone b&b and brings up memories from trevor’s past. in an effort to comfort her, things go so wrong that they end up right, in a way. aka trevor misses his pookie bear
warnings: death and like, 2 swears.
word count: 3.2k
pronouns: she/her
rating: pg
a/n: i’m rusty at writing, be nice 🙏 probably not 100% accurate, but blame it on plot convenience pls
also for the plot’s sake he hasn’t had any actual relations with hetty, he just acts like a freak but never actually follows through (aka im too lazy to write that out 🩷)
You didn’t consider yourself a very superstitious person, but you could feel the eerie energy radiating from Woodstone as soon as you stepped on the grounds, but you had begun to feel a bit dissuaded from– everything really, and you had been missing your husband for the past… well, two decades, and really wanted to reconnect with him.
Trevor, however, didn’t take the exact same relaxed feelings about the reunion. He watched your car pull in and watched you get out of your car, as humans did, you had aged, but by god in his eyes you aged like absolute wine. Clearly, he looked mortified, though.
Trevor stood frozen in the front hall as he watched you step out of your car. His usual confident smirk was nowhere to be found, replaced instead with a wide-eyed look of panic. He ran a hand through his eternally perfect hair, pacing in tight circles.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. It’s her,” he muttered, mostly to himself.
“Her who?” Alberta asked, leaning on the doorway with a raised eyebrow.
“Her her! My wife! My widow! The woman I married, the woman I—ugh!” He groaned, dramatically flopping onto the couch. “She’s here! What is she doing here? She’s supposed to be… I don’t know, happily remarried or writing a memoir about how awesome I was. Not staying here, with us!”
The other ghosts stared at him in a mix of curiosity and amusement.
“Wait, you’re married?” Isaac asked, his brows furrowing. “I thought you were more of the, ah, bachelor for life type.”
“I was married for six years!” Trevor shot back, sitting up indignantly. “She’s my one true love. You don’t get over someone like that, okay?” He ran both hands through his hair this time, looking almost comically distraught. “And now she’s here, and she looks… amazing, but she’s aged, and I haven’t, and this is going to mess her up, right? Like, emotionally? This is bad, right?”
“Didn’t take you for the sentimental type,” Alberta teased, her tone softening slightly. “But this explains a lot about why you’re extra dramatic today.”
Sam, who had been observing quietly, crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. “Trevor, she’s your wife? Why didn’t you ever mention her before?”
“Because it hurts, Sam!” Trevor threw up his hands. “She was the one. I miss her every single day, but what was I supposed to do? Drop it casually into conversation? ‘Oh, by the way, the love of my life is out there somewhere, and I’m stuck here in the No Pants Brigade for eternity.’ Real smooth.”
“Aw, Trev,” Pete said, his usual warmth shining through. “That’s actually… really sweet. Tragic, but sweet.”
“I know it’s tragic, Pete! That’s the whole point!” Trevor snapped, though his voice cracked slightly. “And now she’s here, and I can’t even tell her I’m here because… ghost rules! And you know me, I’m not good at being subtle. I’m gonna screw this up. I just know it.”
“You’ve already started screwing it up,” Hetty cut in, her tone sharp. “I can practically feel your anxiety polluting the air.”
“Thank you for the support, Hetty,” Trevor deadpanned before turning back to Samantha. “Sam, please, you’ve gotta help me. Tell her I’m here. Drop some hints. I don’t know, maybe do that whole ‘medium’ thing you’re always saying you’re not.”
Samantha gave him a sympathetic look. “Trevor, I don’t think telling her outright is the best idea. She’s here for a reason. Maybe she’s looking for closure. You should think about what she needs right now, not just what you want.”
Trevor groaned again, dragging his hands down his face. “You’re right. You’re totally right. I just…” He looked out the window again, watching as you hesitated near your car, seemingly mustering up the courage to come inside. “I miss her, Sam. Like, really miss her.”
The room fell silent for a moment. Even Hetty seemed to soften, though she wouldn’t admit it.
Samantha finally broke the silence, her voice gentle. “Then maybe this is your chance to give her what she’s been missing too. Just… try not to scare her, okay?”
Trevor nodded, though his lips curled into a sheepish grin. “I’ll do my best. No promises, though.”
“That’s what we’re worried about,” Alberta muttered, shaking her head as she followed the others to watch the unfolding chaos.
“Hello! Uh– you work here, right?” You spoke from the hallway, bags in hands. “Yup! Here for vacation?” Sam asked, getting behind the desk. There was a pause between the two of you before a hum of hesitancy came from you, not wanting to dump all of your dead-husband-trauma within a minute of meeting her, you just nodded. “Basically.”
—
You had got set up in your room, trying to relax despite the energy coming from the property, sitting up on the bed and texting, unaware of the specter of your deceased husband laying next to you. Trevor lay sprawled next to you on the bed, his usual cocky grin tempered with nervous excitement. “God, you’re even cuter than I remembered,” he murmured to himself, though you, of course, couldn’t hear him. “Okay, Trev, this is your moment. Don’t blow it. Start small. Subtle. Like… ghost Casanova.”
Meanwhile, you sat cross-legged on the bed, your phone in hand, scrolling through messages and photos. A faint frown tugged at your lips, and Trevor’s expression softened.
“Hey, don’t look sad. I’m right here!” he said, leaning closer. “Okay, time for step one: the classic ‘move a thing to get their attention’ move. Easy peasy.”
He eyed the pen sitting on the nightstand and focused all his energy on it. The pen wobbled slightly, then fell off the edge with a faint clatter.
You glanced up from your phone, startled. Your eyes darted to the nightstand, lingering for a moment, before you sighed and bent to pick up the pen.
“Must’ve knocked it off,” you mumbled to yourself, setting it back in place.
Trevor smacked his forehead. “Okay, maybe too subtle. Fine. Let’s turn it up a notch.”
He stood, pacing at the foot of the bed like a coach psyching himself up for the big game. “All right, Trev, think… what’s romantic but not terrifying? Candles? Too cliché. Write her a message? No penmanship when you’re a ghost.” He snapped his fingers. “Music! Music’s perfect. Nostalgic, romantic… plus, I know what song we danced to at our wedding. Boom. Easy win.”
He floated toward the room’s Bluetooth speaker, fiddling with the controls. It took a few tries, but soon the opening chords of “Your Song” by Elton John filled the room.
You froze mid-text, looking around with wide eyes.
“What the…” you whispered, putting your phone down. The music grew louder, and your brows furrowed.
Trevor grinned triumphantly, throwing his arms in the air. “Yes! She knows it’s me! Come on, babe, connect the dots. Ghost plus love song equals your amazing husband!”
But instead of looking touched or nostalgic, you grabbed the speaker, inspected it, and muttered, “That’s… weird. Haven’t heard that one in a while.” You turned the speaker off and set it down on the nightstand, shaking your head.
Trevor deflated, throwing himself backward onto the bed in frustration. “Come on! That was our song! How does that not scream ‘It’s Trevor!’?”
The faint smile you gave the speaker didn’t escape his notice, though. “Okay,” you murmured to yourself, “I dunno if I’m just imagining things. Or maybe it’s just… this place.” You paused, looking toward the window with a wistful expression, flashes of moments of your relationship running through your mind at the nostalgic song. “If only he was here…”
Trevor sat bolt upright at your words, his frustration melting into something softer. “I am here,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. Trevor stayed where he was, staring at you with a mixture of love and longing, his resolve strengthening.
“All right, babe,” he murmured. “You might not believe it yet, but I’m gonna show you. You’ll know it’s me. I promise.”
He watched as you leaned back on the bed, phone forgotten, and closed your eyes. He stayed beside you, close enough that he imagined you could feel the warmth of his love, even if he couldn’t physically reach you.
“Tomorrow,” he said softly, “I’ll do better. You’ll see.”
–
The morning sun filtered through the trees, casting soft, dappled light across the Woodstone grounds. You walked slowly, arms crossed against the crisp air. It wasn’t the most energetic stroll—you’d never been one for intense hikes, nor exactly cut out for them—but it was peaceful. Quiet. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time.
The weight of memories pressed against you as you stopped by an old oak tree, brushing your fingers against its bark. “He would’ve loved this,” you murmured. The thought brought a bittersweet smile to your lips, though the ache in your chest never quite disappeared.
Inside the house, Trevor was a whirlwind of nervous energy, pacing in the living room. “Okay, okay. Yesterday didn’t go so great,” he admitted, running his hands through his hair. “But today’s a new day. I just need… a plan. A really good plan. So, ideas. Let’s hear ’em!”
Alberta rolled her eyes from her perch on the armrest of the couch. “Trevor, you can’t just throw random ghost tricks at her and expect her to piece it together. What’s your actual endgame here?”
“The endgame is for her to know it’s me, Albie!” Trevor gestured wildly, “I want her to feel like I’m still here for her. Like… in a good, romantic way. Not in a haunted way.”
“Well, you’re failing at both,” Hetty said flatly.
Isaac cleared his throat. “Perhaps you should try something more personal. Something that speaks to your connection with her.”
Trevor groaned. “I tried that! I played our wedding song, and she didn’t even get it! What else am I supposed to do?”
“Then maybe you should think about what she loved about you specifically,” Alberta said, leaning forward. “What was your thing? Your move? The thing that made her fall for you in the first place?”
Trevor paused, a rare moment of introspection crossing his face. “She used to say I had this way of… making her laugh, even when she didn’t want to. Like, no matter how bad her day was, I could always cheer her up. That’s what she loved about me.” He smiled faintly, the memory softening his usual bravado. “Man, she used to laugh so hard she’d snort, and she’d get all embarrassed, but I thought it was the cutest thing ever.”
“Well, there you go,” Alberta said. “You’ve got your answer.”
“Yeah, but how am I supposed to make her laugh if she can’t hear me?” Trevor threw up his hands. “I can’t exactly tell her my A+ jokes from ghost-land.”
Sam, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up. “Maybe you don’t need to say anything. Maybe you just need to remind her of something funny you did together. Like, recreate one of your inside jokes or a memory that’ll make her laugh.”
Trevor snapped his fingers. “Sam, you’re a genius! I knew I kept you around for a reason.”
“It’s my property,” she deadpanned.
“Details.” Trevor waved her off, already pacing again as he brainstormed. “Okay, funny memory. Funny memory. Oh! Remember that time we went to that fancy restaurant, and I accidentally set the napkin on fire, and we had to sneak out before the maître d’ kicked us out? She loved that story!”
“Sure,” Hetty muttered, “because nothing says love like mild arson.”
Ignoring her, Trevor clapped his hands together. “That’s it. I’ll find a way to remind her of that. Maybe I’ll knock over a candle or something—just enough to jog her memory. Not, like, burn-the-place-down levels. I can do this!”
“Let’s hope you don’t accidentally commit ghost arson,” Isaac muttered as Trevor bolted toward the door, ready to execute his next brilliant plan.
Outside, you had wandered toward the gazebo, sitting down on the wooden bench with a sigh. The quiet was nice, though there was something about this place that made you feel… watched. Not in a bad way, but as if there was some invisible presence hovering nearby, waiting for the right moment.
From the shadows of the house, Trevor watched you with a determined glint in his eye. “All right, babe. Let’s make you laugh.”
–
You sat in the gazebo, absentmindedly watching a pair of squirrels chase each other around the base of a tree. The morning air was crisp, and for a moment, you let yourself relax.
From the shadows of the house, Trevor leaned against the doorway, cracking his knuckles. “Okay, Trev. Channel the glory days. Be suave. Be funny. Don’t… burn anything down for real this time.”
He floated closer, eyeing the picnic table in the gazebo. A small decorative lantern sat on the edge of it, its candle flickering gently in the breeze. Trevor grinned. “Perfect. Just a little nudge…”
He focused his energy on the lantern, tipping it ever so slightly until it teetered on the edge. With a faint clatter, it toppled over, landing on the table.
Startled, you turned to the sound, your brows furrowing. “Huh. That’s weird.”
Trevor winced. “Okay, not enough. Gotta amp it up.”
He scanned the area and spotted a small coffee table tablecloth, reminiscent of a napkin, resting next to the lantern. “This’ll do. Time to bring back the classics.” With a concentrated effort, he managed to slide the cloth toward the lantern’s flame, careful not to let it fully ignite.
The edge of the fabric began to smolder, a thin wisp of smoke curling into the air.
You gasped, leaping to your feet. “What the—?”
Trevor grinned, floating back as he waited for recognition to dawn. “Come on, babe. You have to remember this. Napkin fire? Fancy restaurant? Hilarious escape? It’s me!”
You quickly grabbed the mini tablecloth, smothering the tiny ember with your hands. With the danger gone, you sat back down, shaking your head with a bemused smile. “This place is seriously fucking with me.”
But then you paused, your fingers brushing over the singed edge of the cloth. Your smile softened, turning wistful.
“I’m really losing it now,” you muttered, though there was a glimmer of warmth in your eyes. “That’s exactly the kind of thing he’d do…”
Trevor froze, his grin fading as his expression softened. “She remembers,” he whispered.
You leaned back against the bench, holding the fabric in your hands like it was a precious relic. A quiet laugh escaped you, tinged with both joy and sadness. “Trevor, if this is you… God, I miss you.”
Trevor floated closer, his heart aching at the sound of your voice saying his name. He knelt beside you, though he knew you couldn’t see him. “I miss you too, babe. More than anything.”
For a moment, the world felt still. Though you couldn’t see him, and he couldn’t physically touch you, Trevor sat beside you, basking in the quiet connection of the moment.
“I’ll make sure you know it’s me,” he whispered. “No matter what it takes.”
—
The evening had grown dark, the soft hum of crickets filling the air as you stepped out of the car and onto the gravel driveway of Woodstone. The long, flowing dress you’d chosen for dinner swayed gently as you walked toward the front entrance, your heels clicking softly on the steps.
Trevor had been lounging on the staircase banister, idly waiting for you to return. When the door creaked open, he glanced up, his usual grin fading into wide-eyed awe.
“Whoa,” he whispered, standing straighter as he took in the sight of you. “You look… incredible. Like, seriously incredible. Red carpet-level stunning. Damn.”
You closed the door behind you, taking a moment to adjust your coat and shake off the evening chill. The glow from the chandelier overhead illuminated your features, and Trevor floated closer, unable to stop staring.
“Babe, you always looked amazing, but this? This is next-level. If I had a heartbeat, it’d be racing right now.”
Completely oblivious to his presence, you made your way into the sitting room, setting your clutch down on the nearest table. You looked around, pausing as you took in the cozy ambiance of the room. Something about it felt oddly welcoming tonight, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on why.
Trevor, meanwhile, hovered behind you, practically buzzing with excitement. “Okay, Trev, play it cool. She’s in a good mood. Maybe I can nudge something over—like a little love note or a flower. Yeah, that’s romantic. Not weird at all.”
He turned toward a nearby shelf, spotting a vase filled with dried flowers. “Perfect,” he said, focusing his energy on it. “Just a gentle tap…”
But Trevor’s enthusiasm got the better of him. Instead of the vase, he accidentally tipped the entire bookshelf.
“Wait, no! Nononono!” he yelled, trying to stop the shelf mid-fall.
With a thunderous crash, the bookshelf toppled over, sending books and decorative items scattering across the room.
You spun around, eyes wide, your heart pounding in your chest. “What the—”
The shock of the sound, combined with the sudden adrenaline surge, overwhelmed you. A sharp pain gripped your chest, and you staggered backward, clutching at your heart.
Trevor’s excitement immediately turned to panic. “Oh no. No, no, no. Babe, what’s happening? Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay!”
You gasped, trying to steady yourself against the edge of the couch, but your legs gave out. The last thing you saw was the chandelier’s light dimming as you collapsed to the floor.
“No!” Trevor shouted, kneeling beside you. His hands hovered over you, futile in their ghostly form. “Please, don’t… not like this. Don’t leave me again!”
Moments later, the room seemed to shift. A strange warmth filled the air, and Trevor froze, staring at your body. Suddenly, your spirit appeared, standing next to him.
You blinked, disoriented, looking down at your hands and then at your body on the floor. “What… what just happened?”
Trevor’s jaw dropped. “Babe?”
You turned toward the familiar voice, your eyes widening as you saw him standing there, looking exactly as he had the day you’d lost him, just— minus some pants. “Trevor?”
He nodded, his voice trembling. “Yeah, it’s me. I… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I swear, I was just trying to—”
But before he could finish, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him, tears streaming down your face. “It’s you. It’s really you.”
For the first time in years, Trevor felt solid, real. He held you tightly, his own tears falling freely. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
Trevor smiled, a mix of relief and guilt in his expression. “Well, about that… Turns out I’m still pretty good at screwing things up.” He didn’t let go of you for a second, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And for the record? You don’t look a day over 35, hon’.”
“You’re a dork. But at least you’re my dork.” You softly chuckled. “Hey, can you blame me? You’re gonna look like an absolute bombshell for the rest of eternity.”
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
A/N: I DID IT. After over a year over writing literally nothing, I present to you this small drabble. Ficlet. Whatever you want to call it. Anyway you want to spin it, I AM BACK.
Summary: Trevor is in denial. Maybe. Just a little.
Warnings: I didnt proofread. Does that count?
Pairing: Trevor Lefkowitz x Ghost!Reader (eventually)
Words: 916
Trevor x Ghost!Reader Masterlist
2010
“You’re staring. Again.”
Trevor rolled his shoulders back and cleared his throat. Fidgeting had nearly become second nature to him now. He absolutely loathed it.
“I am not staring,” Trevor denied, eyes looking everywhere but at you.
“Yeah, dude, you are,” Sass let out a sigh of exasperation. “You stare at her every time she’s here.”
Trevor made a face, crossing his arms over his chest. Yeah okay, maybe he did stare. Maybe you were the most interesting part of every day. At least on the days you visited. It was either you or the old lady. It had become interesting…was that the right word? Interesting? Watching you photograph the place like it was actually worth something. Humming to yourself with your earbuds in as you wandered the grounds.
You seemed nice. At least, you had more patience for the old lady than seemed reasonable. More patience than he ever had when he was alive. And dead probably.
“I don’t stare at her every time. And even if I did, which I don’t, what else am I supposed to look at? Thor? Pete? It’s slim pickings, man. And T-Money has a beautiful live woman in front of him. Yeah, man, I’m going to take advantage of it.”
Trevor swallowed, eyes flicking between Sass’ disbelieving face and you, talking to the old lady, Sophie. “And so are you by the way, I don’t see you leaving. In fact, you’re always right here with me. If anything, you're the one following her.”
Trevor adjusted his stance feigning confidence. A smug smile on his face as he looked directly at Sass trying very hard not to look back at you.
Trevor Lefkowitz was many things, but a man who pined, who sought after someone, was not him. It wasn’t. He refused. He would not cave. He had withstood far greater things than-
“Oh, come on. What did I do with it?”
Trevor’s gaze flicked back to you quickly. There you were still standing in front of Sophie Woodstone, a clear flicker of annoyance written all over your face.
“Did you lose something?” Sophie asked you, concerned eyes looking you over.
“My camera case. I just had it,” you sighed, rubbing a hand over your forehead. “It was a gift from - well, it’s important to me. I can’t believe I lost it like that.”
“She looks…”
“Distraught?” Sass offered, crossing his arms over his chest. Gaze lazily following Trevor.
The two men watched you as you, nearly frantic, began retracing your steps through the mansion. Mumbling to yourself about carelessness.
“We should-”
“What? Help her?” Sass challenged. “I thought T-Money wasn’t interested.”
“I’m not, but rule of thumb is women are more susceptible to giving a little affection when they’re in need of help.”
“We’re dead, Trevor.”
Trevor opened his mouth to bite back a reply before closing his mouth again. Tilting his head back, Trevor let out a sigh before saying, “Look, she obviously cares about the thing. It wouldn’t hurt to look.”
“You care.” Sass was nearly smiling.
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I don’t.”
“Oh, you so do.”
“No, I so don’t.”
“Do to.”
“Do not.”
“Do-”
“What are you two idiots fighting about?”
Both men turned to see Alberta, annoyed already with their bickering.
“Sass is being-”
“Trevor is being-”
“Will you two cut it out already!” Alberta snapped at them. “Sass what’s the problem?”
“The living lost her camera case and Trevor is pretending he doesn’t care that she’s upset.”
“You mean the camera case right behind you on the mantle?” Alberta turned her gaze to the mantle behind them.
“Huh.” Both men said in unison.
‘Well, I’ll be damned.” Trevor tilted his head, eyes locked onto the camera case.
“Now, how exactly were you planning on telling the poor girl where her camera case is?”
“Easy,” Trevor stated, cracking his knuckles. “It’s T-Money’s time to shine.”
“Yeah, if we had three hours,” Sass bit back.
Trevor narrowed his eyes before walking over to the mantle finger aimed at the camera case. “Come on, Trevor,” he whispered to himself.
Trevor used both hands to try and push his finger towards the camera case. Gritting his teeth, Trevor tried to push through to nudge the camera case.
“Well, I’m just going to go Sophie,” you said defeated.
“Faster, Trevor!” Alberta waved at him.
“I’m trying,” Trevor grunted back.
With one final push Trevor knocked down the camera case from the mantle. He let out a breath, more habit than anything else.
He watched as your head turned towards the direction of the soft thud. Your expression puzzled before walking towards where you heard the sound. Trevor watched as you registered the camera case on the floor, your eyes lighting up with relief.
You bent down to pick it up, your eyes flicking from the mantle, and then straight at him. Trevor swallowed, every rational part of his brain told him you couldn’t see him, but still -
“Found it, Sophie!” You called out before turning and walking away.
Trevor felt Sass lean towards him, “That totally didn’t look like a man who cared at all.”
Trevor ignored him instead focusing on watching you leave the mansion, expression filled with relief as you left.
Yeah, okay, maybe he did care. It didn’t matter anyways. You were alive. He was dead. Even if he did want you to see him, he didn’t actually want you dead.
So yeah, maybe Trevor Lefkowitz did care.
A little.
More than he wanted to.
Taglist: Which I know has been forever so if you want to be taken off the taglist let me know and I will remove you. No harm done.
