fics & requests // sam and colby

not so alone // c.b.

prompt: you've had many men pass through your bedroom doors, but they always tell you lies. but this one... might make you finally believe. || ghost!reader x colby brock

POV: Second person, Y/N, gender neutral pronouns

trigger warning: you're a ghost sex worker... so there's that, unwanted touching??, fluff and angst, kind of a happy ending

word count: 1190

~~~~~~~~~~~

You had had many men come through your doors over the decades of all shapes and sizes. Even different clothing styles too (some of which didn't quite make sense to you). But you didn't discriminate, it wasn't in your line of work to do so. As long as the customer paid, they were allowed to have a good time.

But for some reason, and you don't know when it began, these men would come in and act like they owned the place. They would come in, boss you around, and tell you lies.

Tell you that you were dead.

Sure, you got shot in the heart by your ex-lover Harold, but by the grace of God, you survived it. You were happy to know he died when these men would say it to you, but... you weren't dead. You would know whether or not that was the case.

These "ghost hunters" (whatever that means) would come in and talk to you, tell you to light up a device they had or touch them. Of course, the few what they called "mediums" that actually paid attention to you, because for some reason everyone liked to pretend you weren't there and they were the only ones that could see you, would tell these hunters that the only way you would do anything for them is if they gave you money. You had plenty on your dresser, and people just kept leaving you more and more over the years. So, once they would put some cash down, then you would do what they ask. But only if you felt like it.

You weren't sure why this is what these hunters were into but... whatever floats their boat.

Then one day, these four young men came into the brothel. They were dressed oddly, but so were any recent folks that walked through your doors. But you didn't care about that because their energy was different.

Especially the dark haired one. He was tall, handsome, and had beautiful blue eyes.

He had this... glow around him. Something you didn't see too often, if ever. It felt warm and safe, unlike a lot of other men's energies.

You watched as they spilt off, two going one way and two entering your room. The dark haired one laid down on your bed. You grimaced at his shoes being on your comforter, but quickly ignored it. They placed down these random gadgets around the room and started "recording".

"Are you here, Y/N? Would you like to come talk to us?"

You rolled your eyes, not moving from your seat. You picked at your nails as they asked more questions.

"Bro, wait. The tour guide said that they usually don't respond unless money is placed on the dresser." The blonde one reminded them.

The dark haired one pulled out his wallet, and handed a $10 to the blonde one, who placed the money on the dresser.

"Is that good enough, Y/N? Is that what you were waiting for?" The dark haired one asked.

You walked over to the device they had been pointing at, tapping it softly. The light flashed and boys freaked out.

Wow, men these days are easily amused.

"Oh my god thank you Y/N! That means so much to us."

You talked back and forth with them for a while, but eventually the subject turned to your least favorite part: the lies.

Colby, which you had learned was the dark haired one, quietly asked. "Y/N.... do you know that you're dead?"

You didn't touch their device. You got off the bed and went back to your chair. You were so tired of being asked a question that wasn't true.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Y/N. Your ex, Harold... he shouldn't have shot you. That was terrible. I'm sorry you suffered."

You looked over at him. His voice... it was so much more sincere than the other men that had come through and told you this lie. The way he said it... it almost made you believe him.

But you couldn't be dead.

"The tour guide was telling us that you haven't moved on, that that's what a lot of mediums have said. I hope you know that if you need help crossing over, we'll help you."

You shook your head, crossing your arms uncomfortably. You weren't dead. You just couldn't be.

They ended up leaving not too long afterwards, but you overheard them saying that Colby should stay the night in your room. You were happy about that, at the very least.

But this whole being dead thing... could it actually be true? You couldn't remember the last time you ate, or changed your clothes, or bathed even. But you never changed. Nothing about you ever aged. Time felt frozen, days blurred together. Thousands of people had passed through your brothel, and they all had told you the same thing.

You. Were. Dead.

Tears flowed down your face, and you felt like the world finally stopped moving. Oh God, you were dead. You died when Harold had shot you all those decades ago. No one was pretending you weren't around, they really couldn't see you. Or hear you.

You had never felt so alone in your whole life.

Colby came to your room again. You didn't know how much time had passed since you last saw him, but assumingly it wasn't that long. He awkwardly sat down on your bed, kicking his shoes off this time. He leaned back and glanced around.

"Y/N... are you still here? I hope you don't mind if I stay here tonight. I don't plan on recording anything, unless something major happens. I figure it might be better to just have a one-on-one conversation."

He asked random questions, and weirdly waited for responses from you. You hoped he could tell you were answering, but you weren't sure. He didn't seem like these mediums you had talked to before.

You leaned across the bed and lightly touched his arm, now noticing the tattoos on the right one. You felt the hair on his arm react to your touch, rising. He gasped, pulling away from you.

"Oh my god, did you just touch me?" He gasped, looking around the room hastily.

That was the first time a man had almost revolted from your touch. You scared him. Of course you scared him. You're a ghost.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to react like that. I'm just surprised." Colby apologized, his voice low.

You kept your distance the rest of the night, until he was finally asleep.

You figured this would be your last night here; you knew it was time to move on from this place. But you wanted one more night of normal. You slid into bed with Colby, resting your head against his chest softly. He didn't stir or move away from your touch this time. His hand rested against your back, pushing you closer. You felt at peace finally. It had been so long since someone had touched you back.

You looked up at his face, cupping his cheek softly.

For a moment, you didn't feel so alone.