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foxaftershocks · 2 months

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Ghost Boy (Lars Pinfield x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You and Lars have a pretty contentious relationship. Until you don't

Words: 3.1k

Basically some fun enemies to lovers stuff

“What is this?”

You looked up from your laptop, fingers stilling on the keyboard. Dr Lars Pinfield, the bane of your existence and the most combative towards your work, was standing over you, holding up a phone. The screen was playing a video, a TikTok edit of him around the lab playing with one of those viral songs.

“A video,” you replied with a small shrug.

“Why would you post this to the internet?” he demanded.

“I’m the lab’s social media manager. What do you want from me? I’m giving the people what they want,” you replied, already tired of the conversation.

Lars had never understood the point of you in the lab. You weren’t a scientist like the rest of them, but you were a one person communication team, educated in science communication and marketing. You were there to ensure their reputation continued to soar and they continued to get funding for their experiments and tech. It was a pretty simple concept. You let the world know how cool they were, and they could continue doing what they wanted.

Lars hated it. He’d made it clear that he thought there was no point to you being there and that you only got in the way of the real science. He hadn’t realised how the modern day functioned in so many ways. You were the one writing the press releases. You rewrote the grant applications that got them money. You explained exactly what it was they were doing so people couldn’t complain about their secrecy.

In truth, it was your dream job. You got to hang out with all kinds of paranormal phenomena and then show the world how cool the lab was. Your friends had grown tired of you constantly talking about, and yet you couldn’t stop. So for one of the scientists, the one you probably admired the most in the entire lab, to be so dismissive of your work was crushing.

“No one wants this,” he snapped.

“Really?” You raised a single eyebrow at him, “videos and photos with you in them perform the best. People demand to know who you are. They want more of you. So I made a tongue in cheek video acknowledging that. It is our best performing video.”

You were never going to admit that you fully understood why people liked the video so much. You felt like you might be half of the views by yourself. You’d never admit it, but that nerd had something about him. If you didn’t know any better, you might think you had a crush on him. Which would just be stupid.

“You’re meant to be telling people about the science,” he said, “that’s why you’re here. Not for this shit.”

“That shit is the foot in the door that gets people in to listen to the science,” you replied, waiting for him to understand something he never would.

“No one is listening to any science with this,” he snapped.

“What’s wrong, Lars? Does getting attention from women scare you? Not used to it so you don’t know how to react?” You laughed.

He scowled at you before storming off, muttering under his breath, most likely insulting you. You rolled your eyes, going back to the press release you’d been working on before he’d interrupted you. Something crashed in the background and you rolled your eyes again.

The next time he found you, you were filming in front of the containment units, explaining how proton streams were used in the trapping of ghosts. His phone was thrust in front of your face and you sighed.

“What is this?” he demanded.

“Hello to you too, Lars. Is the science cooperating today?” You smiled sweetly up at him.

“You posted another one,” he snarled.

“The ladies were clamouring for it. I can’t disappoint our audience,” you replied, “now if you’ll excuse me I’m trying to talk about actual science, Lars. You probably don’t understand it. What I’m doing is very complicated.”

You gently patted him on the shoulder, giving him a faux commiserating look. His scowl darkened and you pouted up at him.

“Stop doing this,” he said.

“I hate to tell you this, ghost boy, but people like pretty people being the ones to tell them stuff. So I’ll keep posting your pretty face, and then they’ll listen to me be smart with the science. ‘Kay?”

“No, not “’kay”.” He used air quotes which made you glower up at him, “I’m the scientist. I’ll talk about the science.”

“Sure. How about you take over? I’m sure I’m not nearly as good as you at explaining proton streams without using all that technobabble you like so much,” you said, stepping back from him to let him take over the video.

“I don’t have time for this. I’m doing actual science,” he said.

“Whatever you say, ghost boy. But your fans will be disappointed,” you said with a small shrug.

He looked to the camera then back at you, adjusting his glasses on his nose. You offered him a winning smile and he shook his head.

“Fine. You’re probably getting the science wrong anyway,” he said.

You grinned to yourself as you skirted around him, standing behind the phone set up with the ring light. You gestured for him to start speaking but he looked at you blankly.

“I was explaining how the proton streams capture ghosts,” you said.

“Well, they’re made of a stream of positively charged ions which counters the negative charge of the ghosts,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“Sure, and what are ions?” you asked.

“Ions are just atoms or groups of atoms that are charged positively or negatively,” he replied, “obviously ours are charged positively.”

“And how do they get that way?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You could feel the smirk on your face, his obvious frustration only making the moment sweeter. You sauntered back into frame, shoving him over to stand beside him, looking into the camera.

“So atoms are made up of three things. Protons, which have a positive charge, neutrons, which are neutral, and then you have the electrons which have a negative charge. The protons and the neutrons are together in the middle of the atom as the nucleus, and then the electron orbits around the nucleus. Depending on how many protons and electrons their are, atoms can have different charges, which is how they bond together into molecules,” you said, turning to look at him at the end to see how he was reacting.

“Everyone knows that,” he scoffed.

“Do they?” you asked, “not everyone pays attention in their science classes. Plenty of people don’t even turn up to them. Start with the basics and build up to the more complicated stuff.”

He rolled his eyes but he gestured for you to continue.

“Right, so if ions are made up of atoms then the charge is to do with how many protons and electrons those atoms have. Our proton streams use positively charged ions, meaning there are more protons than electrons,” you said, back to the camera.

“Our proton packs can strip the electrons from the atoms to positively charge the proton streams. And because ghosts are negatively charged, the proton streams hold them in place so we can lower them into the trap which holds them until they can be brought to a containment unit just like this one,” Lars said, gently patting the red metal door behind him.

“So there you go, Gina. That’s why you always see the ghostbusters with those massive backpacks on when they’re running around the city,” you said.

“That’s it?” he asked, sounding incredulous, “that’s the entire thing?”

“Bite sized science. Short enough to not lose their attention, factual enough that they learn something,” you said.

You weren’t sure how to interpret the look on his face but you didn’t have time to unpack it before he walked off, not even bothering with a goodbye. You chuckled, stopping the recording and taking your equipment back to your desk.

Editting the video, you couldn’t help but smile at the screen. There was something about watching your interaction with Lars that had you laughing to yourself. You shouldn’t have found it as amusing as you did. Something in your chest began to warm as you watched it over and over again. Eventually you had to slam your laptop and focus on something else or else you’d just watch him on repeat.

You had to ignore that it was one of the better performing science explainer videos you’d posted in quite some time.

“Hey, ghost boy,” you said, sauntering up to his desk a few days later.

His eyes were slow to look up at you. You held out the bag of chips you were eating, offering him some. He considered you a moment before his hand slipped into the bag. You rested against the edge of his desk, looking down at his work.

“Whatcha working on?” you asked.

“What do you want?” he asked rather than replying.

“Well, I was thinking since our last video did so well, we should do some more. Between your pretty face and my words we’d be unstoppable,” you said.

His eyes ran over you from behind those thick framed glasses and you found yourself feeling nervous about his answer. It wasn’t like you’d asked him on a date. His answer didn’t matter that much.

“I have better things to be doing with my time. Like actual science,” he replied, looking away from you.

“So you don’t want people to know about what you do?” you asked, “you don’t like talking about science with me?”

You saw a flush climb up his neck. You nudged his shoulder, offering him a wide smile.

“C’mon. We were amazing. Despite your personality issues, we make a pretty good team,” you said.

He muttered something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch. You lent closer, hoping to hear the acerbic comment you were sure he was making. He reared back, as if your presence was offending him, something so disgusting he couldn’t bare it. Your stomach swooped and you drew back again quickly.

“Never mind then. Clearly you’re so much busier than me and don’t have time for anything but nerd shit,” you said, “keep the chips.”

You got out of there as quickly as possible, not sure you’d be able to handle looking at his stupidly cute face anymore. The pressure behind your eyes was allergies, nothing to do with him. And the shame was just part and parcel for working on the internet.

You definitely were not feeling so bad because of Lars Pinfield.

Something made a soft noise as it was placed onto your desk. Raising your head from the cushioned position it had on your folded arms, you found the sweet scent of coffee wafting towards you. You reached for the mug, taking a long drink from it before looking up.

Lars was standing a few steps away, watching you. You gave him a small smile, sipping from the mug again. He readjusted his glasses, still watching you and you weren’t sure how to react. It had been a few days since you’d spoken to him, keeping your distance after the disaster that was your last conversation.

“Thanks, ghost boy,” you said, voice quiet.

“You were practically asleep at your desk. Who else is going to bother the scientists?” he replied.

“Aw, you do care,” you said, “have you been missing me?”

He scoffed.

“Or maybe you’re just jealous that I’ve been bothering all the other scientists instead of you,” you said, hiding your smile behind the rim of your coffee mug.

He couldn’t meet your gaze.

And then it hit you.

“You know my coffee order,” you said, looking down into the mug.

“I’m observant,” he replied, adjusting his glasses again, still not looking at you.

“Careful, ghost boy, or I’ll think there’s some sweetness under all that spice.”

That flush again. You wanted to know what it meant. You stood, ignoring him when he took a step back. Your fingers were soft when they brushed against the flushed skin, warm under your touch.

“What are you doing?” he asked, batting at your hand.

“You’re blushing,” you said.

Your fingers were still resting against his neck. You could feel how fast his pulse was thrumming and when you looked up into his face you found wide blue eyes staring down at you. Pink lips were parted and you felt frozen, caught up in his gaze.

You blink and he tore himself away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said before quickly retreating.

Once again you were left feeling stupid, like you’d been rejected by your crush. The whiplash was staggering. You fell back into your chair, robotically drinking the coffee he’d made for you. You hated that it was perfect. You hated that he’d run away from you. You hated that he could make you feel like this.

It all came to a head a week later. You’d been avoiding him, and if your gut was right, he was avoiding you too. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. None of it had been making any sense to you.

You were in the middle of setting up a shot of one of the ghosts when raised voices began to grow closer. You ignored it, used to the outbreak of arguments in the lab. Stress and frustration were not unusual in the parapsychology field.

“She’s making a mockery of us.”

Oh yes, you knew that voice.

“Lars, she’s just doing her job,” Winston said.

“She’s a distraction,” Lars said.

Turning the corner he looked furious. You blinked at him and he blinked back, clearly not expecting you to be right there.

“I hired her for this. There’s been a significant decrease in online outcry about the work going on here. The news hasn’t complained about the Ghostbusters in weeks. People seem to finally be understanding what we do here,” Winston said.

“Everything she does makes fun of us online. No one is taking us seriously here. Have you seen those videos of me she’s been posting? She doesn’t care about the science and she certainly doesn’t understand how important our work is here,” Lars complained.

“Are you kidding me?” burst from you, “do you seriously think I don’t care about this place?”

“I know you don’t. You wouldn’t make light of everything we do here if you did,” he replied, pointing his finger at you, “you have no idea how brilliant we are.”

“Seriously? You were a laughing stock before I got here. I did the research. I know how people talked about you. Because of me people understand what you do here. I write all your press releases so the news isn’t making fun of you. I rewrite all of your grant applications so you have money. I make it clear that what you’re doing here is very serious business and not just fucking around with ghosts. And if you think I don’t care, then you’re not as smart as you think you are. Of course I know how brilliant you are, Lars. I’m the person constantly telling the world exactly how brilliant you are. So don’t think I don’t know because I do. Probably better than anyone.”

He strode towards you, something fierce on his face. You held your ground, not going to be cowed by him again. You were sick and tired of him constantly looking down on your work just because it wasn’t science. He had no right to complain about you or the work you did.

He stopped in front of you and you stared up at him, waiting for the next acidic words out of his mouth. Instead, both of his hands came up to cup your cheeks and he was pulling you in. His lips landed on yours and you felt yourself freeze. He kissed you harder and you melted, hands landing on his chest.

Oh.

So that’s what the flush was about.

It took until Winston cleared his throat for the two of you to break apart. You looked up into his face, at a loss for words.

“I think I’ll leave you two to sort this out between you,” Winston said, “but I doubt you’re going to want her to leave now.”

He chuckled as he left, sauntering away from the two of you.

“You kissed me,” you said.

“I’ll do it again if you’re not careful,” he replied.

“You have to take me to dinner first.” You gently tapped his nose, “or agree to film more videos with me. You do kind of owe me. You did try to get me fired.”

“Fine,” he grumbled.

“Why do you hate them so much?” you asked, “are you actually uncomfortable with scores of women finding you hot? Because if so you should know that I’m one of those women that finds you hot.

“Of course you do. I don’t like the ones about me because it’s not about the science. They shouldn’t care about how I look but about what I do,” he said.

“And the one where we explained the proton streams?” you asked.

“It was so obvious how I feel about you in that one. People were talking about it in the comments. It wasn’t about the science, just speculation about our relationship. And I thought if you saw it you might… realise exactly how I feel about you,” he said with a soft sigh.

“Aw, ghost boy, I think I’ve figured it out.” You reached up, running your fingers through his hair, just like you’d once spent too long imagining doing, “and who cares if they’er speculating about our relationship. They’re still listening to the science as they do it. Foot in the door.”

His hands landed on your hips, pulling you a half a step closer.

“I suppose I can force myself to film some more videos with you,” he murmured.

“I think you’ll like the rewards you get if you do,” you whispered.

“Oh?” His nose brushed against yours.

“How about we do a pilot study right now?” you breathed.

“It’s so hot when you talk science to me,” he said.

Your lips pressed to his again and you sighed into his mouth. You thought you could kiss him for hours, doing nothing but melting into him until you didn’t know where you stopped and he begun. His arms curled around your waist and you found your back hitting the cool glass of the ghost’s prison, pressed against it with his body moulding to yours.

“Your hypothesis seems to be correct. I think I will like my rewards for filming your videos,” he murmured against your lips.

You kissed him again in response.

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