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effloradox · 9 months

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what would you do, if you only knew (that i can see you)

thomas thorne x ghost hunter+fem!reader (set during season 2 episode 1)

synopsis: being able to see ghosts for most of your life almost seemed to force you into being a ghost-hunter of sorts (not that your boss is actually good at his job), it’s only on a trip to button house and a reunion with an old friend from your student days that your ability actually comes into use after a run in with a particularly dashing ghost

a/n: this is massively inspired by the song i can see you by taylor swift, the plot just came into my head after listening to it and here we are, it was meant to fulfil one of the requests i’ve been sent but it went so far from the prompt that i decided to make it a separate fic and do another fic for the prompt

If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re not sure how you ended up in the ghost hunting business. It’s not something you even thought was a real job when you were a kid, it seemed like something you'd see people doing in the cartoons you watched. It was only after a close call when you were a teenager that almost killed you that you realised that you could see ghosts.

It made living in London quite difficult, the sheer amount of people who’s spirit hadn’t moved on was difficult to deal with but you managed to set yourself up with the so-called Ghostmaster General and it gave you a steady stream of work going round the country with him seeing if the buildings were actually haunted or not. You’d never explicitly said you could see ghosts to your employer but you could express enough knowledge that he kept choosing you to go on the trips. When photos of a grey lady surfaced on Facebook and Twitter from a mansion in Hemel Hempstead your boss had called on you immediately to join him on the trip.

Button House didn’t seem to be any different than the countless other manor houses you’d seen over the past few years. It's in a worse state of repairs than you're used to but aside from that it seems like every other fake haunted house you've visited. You’d left your boss to sort out whether you were being allowed inside the house, not wanting to drag the many bags of equipment to the front gates if you were going to have to just bring them back to the van. It’s only when he gives you the go-ahead to go and start setting equipment up inside that you grab a few bags and make your way towards the entrance.

It's with a jolt of surprise that you realise you recognise one of the owners of the house. You’d been friends with Alison at university until the two of you had both finished your degrees and parted ways, keeping in touch only to wish each other a happy birthday or similar milestones.

“Alison, hey!” The woman looked your way at her name, and her face bloomed into a confused smile when her eyes fell on you.

“Hey! Oh my god!” She pulled you into a hug as soon as you were within arms reach and you did your best to reciprocate without hitting her with the equipment bag slung over your shoulder.

“This is your house?”

“Yeah, well it was my great-step-aunt’s house and I inherited it when she died.”

“That’s amazing! Much easier than trying to get lucky with London real estate.”

“So how did you end up doing this?” Alison gestures vaguely to the bag pulled across your shoulder. It’s all you can do to shrug your shoulders lightly, trying to look as blasé as possible as you readjust the strap before it starts to slip down.

“It pays the bills.”

You couldn’t help but notice how nervous Alison was about the whole situation she’d found herself in but you chalked it up to nerves about having so many strangers in her home and didn’t think to push it. She’s kind enough to give you directions up to one of the rooms near the attic that your boss has assigned for the thermal camera currently resting against your shoulder. You agree to a cup of tea and a catch up before making your way to the room.

Everything was going normally with the equipment setup until you suddenly heard a voice shouting down a corridor. It immediately pulled your attention from the camera you were setting up, your eyes trained on the closed door to the room you're in waiting to hear footsteps approaching. When silence lay steady, your focus returned back to the camera.

It takes a great deal of self-control to try not to flinch when a figure suddenly comes through the closed door. You try not to let your eyes flicker away from the camera but can’t help but quickly scan the figure. It’s not the grey ghost you saw in the pictures, the man is dressed like a scout for some reason and the only abnormal thing about him is the arrow sticking out of his neck. You can’t help but wince slightly at that, what a terrible way to go. The ghost is talking to himself apparently in a thick northern accent or that’s what you assumed until another ghost steps through the door.

It takes everything within you to not stare at this ghost. He’s clearly from a few hundred years ago based on his attire but he might be the most beautiful man you’re ever laid eyes on. He was mid-sentence when he walked through the door saying something about finding the others but his voice trailed off when he looked in your direction.

“But, soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and you are the sun.” The way his voice carries the words is nothing short of reverent and you can practically feel the embarrassment rushing through your body. It's not the first time a ghost has found you attractive but normally they're plague victims or half-mad, they don't normally look as though they've just stepped away from a recreation of Pride and Prejudice.

“Thomas! It's not polite to stare.” The scout almost looks apologetic which is quite sweet given that there’s no way he can know that you can see him but his words have done nothing to deter Button House’s version of Mr Darcy.

“And yet we hang the most beautiful paintings ever created in galleries so that the masses may gaze upon their beauty. Would you deny me a similar experience Pat?”

As nice as it is to have someone speak about you like that, you’re aware that it’s going to be very difficult to get through the night if you have a ghost following you and all but swooning over you. Part of you wonders if you could try and feign being sick but also you know how one-track minded your boss will be about this house and there’s no way he’ll be willing to leave to drive you into the nearest town to get a train back to London.

You hear the familiar sounds of the camera as it’s finally finished setting up facing the door and, as you expected, shows no sign of any heat signatures. You decide to leave your other bag in the room for now, choosing instead to go and find Alison. The two ghosts are mid-debate as to whether it’s polite to stare at someone who doesn’t know they’re being stared at as you walk over to the door.

It’s with slightly shaking hands that you twist the handle on the door, opening it as calmly as possible as you try to remember your way out of the house. You can hear the ghosts talking in the room and the voices don’t seem to be getting any further away but the only cohesive thought in your mind is that you have to track down Alison and ask her what she knows about the house.

“Hey, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.” Alison laughs nervously at her joke but it does nothing to relax you.

“I need to speak to you.”

“Okay?”

“Outside.” Alison must see something in your expression that worries her because she allows you to take her by the arm and gently leads you to the front door. It's only when the front door is closed behind you and you can't see anyone dead or alive around that you find your anxiety easing. When you stop moving, you make sure to have your back to the front door, if only to put yourself at ease.

“Are you okay?” You’re about to speak when a voice cuts through the silence.

“Alison! You must reveal the name of this fair maiden at once! Her beauty outshines the sun in a way I never believed possible up until this very moment.” You have to give credit to Alison, she's very good at hiding the flinch when a voice suddenly appears from through the front door. It's only from a lifetime of doing something similar that you catch it, and you watch her eyes darting to something behind you before looking back towards you.

“Sorry, did you say something?” To give Alison credit, her voice only wavers slightly after the interruption. Maybe it’s unfair of you but when you speak, you make sure to do so in a quieter tone than you would normally. You have to be sure that she can see and hear him before you say anything and if you can make it harder for her to hear you under the loud gushing of the ghost then you’ll do what you can.

“I think there’s something upstairs.” You try to pay close attention to any reactions that Alison has to your comment but it’s very difficult once the ghost appears by your side. Up close he really is gorgeous. It’s almost a shame he’s dead because if you saw him in public you’d want his number in a heartbeat. It’s very hard to not let your eye wander in his direction, especially when he’s so close to you. He hasn’t stopped talking since he appeared through the door and whilst you’re more than used to a chatty ghost, you can see that Alison is getting more and more distracted by him.

“Alison! I must insist you express how ardently I admire this fair lady immediately or I shall never give you a moment of peace!” The threat, however serious he is about it, seems to be the final breaking point for your friend, whose face shoots in his direction.

“Thomas, stop talking for one second!” Even the ghost seems surprised by her outburst, staring at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. She catches her mistake in an instant, staring at you with an almost mortified expression as she waits for your reaction.

“I’m guessing you have more than two ghosts here then?”

“What?” Alison’s voice is tentative, like she’s waiting for you to either laugh in her face or run away screaming. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

“I can see them too.”

“What?!” You don’t blame Alison for being surprised, it’s not something you ever told her during your time as students, not even when you had both had a bit too much to drink and your secrets spilled easily. You’d learned early into your time seeing ghosts that telling people the truth was a quick way to alienate yourself from friends and peers alike. It was much easier to lie and say you were just an anxious person by nature who startled easily than to explain that you flinched every time you saw a particularly gruesome looking ghost.

“Sorry for not telling you. Pat seems really nice.”

“Oh my god.” A beat passes as the news sinks in, and then another wave of acceptance seems to reach Alison and with it comes another shout. “Oh my god! You can hear him?” She points in Thomas’ direction and the ghost in question has the good grace to look somewhat mortified by the idea you’ve spent the past thirty minutes listening to him regale you with compliments that he thought you couldn’t hear.

“I can.” For a ghost that’s just spent the better part of an hour showering you with compliments, he suddenly seems unable to string a sentence together. It’s easy to put him out of his misery though. “You’re very handsome by the way. I’m very flattered.” His face goes red at the compliment and, for the first time since he appeared in front of you, he seems genuinely speechless. Alison seems to be in a similar state.

“Does your boss know?”

“Absolutely not! I didn’t want to spend most of my adult life being ridiculed for something no one would ever believe to be true. Have you told anyone?”

“Mike knows. Kind of hard not to tell him with so many of them.” Mike is quickly making his way into your good books with everything you hear about him and you make a mental note to buy him a nice bottle of wine for being such a supportive husband.

“How many have you got?”

“Too many.” You let out a soft noise of consideration before turning to the still shocked ghost standing beside you.

“Would you introduce me to your friends?” Thomas seems to snap out of his shock at your request, bowing slightly and extending a hand in your direction. It’s a sweet gesture even though both of you know you can’t physically take his hand.

“It would be my pleasure.”

“I’ll uh, catch up with you later?”

“You might want to worry about the twenty-something ghost hunters running amok in your house first.” Alison pales slightly at the reminder of what situation has brought the three of you to where you currently are.

“Oh god. I need to go and find Mike.” Your friend is quick to dash back inside her house, leaving the door open for you and Thomas to follow her. Manly you, since he could just phase through the door again.

“Shall we Lady-uh…” It’s only in that moment that you realise Alison never actually told Thomas your name and you’re quick to correct that.

“(Y/N).” You supply.

“Lady (Y/N).”

“We shall.” Thomas walks towards the house first, waiting just beyond the door for you to follow him. Your only thought as you walk through the door is that you hope you don’t run into your boss for the next thirty minutes or so otherwise you might have some explaining to do.

#my writing #fics #thomas thorne x reader #bbc ghosts x reader #fem!reader

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