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algea · 9 months ago

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Ghoul School

prompt: you, Lucky, Phoebe, Trevor, and Lars go to investigate a spirit infested school, but ends badly for you.

Ummm basically enemies to lovers?? idrk tbh LOL

warnings: idk scary stuff? cussing! sexual tension! um you smoke 1 cigarette and thats it. GORE!!!!!!!

a/n: I’ve been thinking of this since I saw the movie…

*THIS IS A SUPER LONG STORY!!!*

“A school? Are you serious, Lars?” You mutter, running a hand down your face and sighing.

“I wish. What’s your grudge against a school anyway?” Lars said, cocking an eyebrow at you as he turned to look at you.

“Well I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that kids still go there. It makes me sick how they have to experience that while being in an environment where it’s supposed to be safe and welcoming.” You explain, tapping your fingers nervously on your desk. Behind you, Lars sighed,

“Well that’s why we’re going innit? So stop worrying about it so much.” You snapped your head when heard the door open. In trudged a slime covered Trevor, Lucky, and Phoebe.

“Lars, I need your help with something!” Lucky called. Lars stood and strode to her, his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than they should’ve. Trevor had a proton pack on his back, which was slightly smoking from the interior.

"Piece of shit only fizzed when we tried to turn it on, know a way to fix it?" Trevor asked, gazing up at Lars. Lars' face was stone cold, probably because he had to deal with the dumb shit Trevor stirred up.

"First off, it's not a piece of shit. Second off, did you even try to figure it out?" Lars scoffed, eyebrows drawn together in a scowl.

"Give it to me, I'll see what I can do." He sighed, obviously not wanting to deal with him anymore. Trevor basically shoved the proton pack into Lars’ arms, which didn't waiver when he received it. Hot. You thought. Lars trudged to his station and set the proton pack down. He removed the protective covering, and coughed when smoke blasted in his face. You snickered, which earned an unimpressed glare from him. Lucky appeared beside you, ready to talk about what else you've come up with her to test.

"What is it?" She asked, tinkering with the item on the desk.

"You know how there's buckshot for a shotgun? I've figured out how to compress protons into little pellets and create a buckshot-type stream." You explained, showing her how it would work on a sheet of paper. You heard Lars muttering about something, though you brushed it off. You handed Lucky a few pellets, which contained about 12 rounds of buckshot each. She eagerly shot off into the test room, excited to try it out. With nothing else to do, you shuffled behind Lars, peering over his shoulder to watch his hands work efficiently. Lars really didn't know you were there, truly he didn't. So when he turned around to go get something from his desk, he jumped back.

"Good Christ you scared the shit out of me!" Lars exclaimed, putting a hand on his chest and letting out a big sigh. He shoved his glasses back up his face and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to watch you work..." You trailed off, staring at the ground in embarrassment.

"Well maybe next time maybe fucking keep to yourself." He snapped, brushing past you, his hand grazing yours. You just stood there, hands clenched and cheeks burning in embarrassment. Phoebe stood next to you, putting a hand on your arm and whispering,

"It's ok, really, he doesn't mean it."

You couldn't help the tear that slithered down your cheek. Blinking away the rest of the tears, you muttered an 'excuse me' and walked outside of the lab. Taking a left, you headed through the doors to the cool breeze outside. Stuffing your hand in you pocket, your hand found purchase on the cig case you had. Sliding one out of it and grabbing your lighter, you lit the cig up and shoved the lighter back into your left pocket. You sat against the wall and pulled your knees to your chest. Hearing the doors open, you see Trevor walk out. He spots you and slides down the wall, sitting next to you.

"It's not your fault. It really isn't." Trevor offered, watching you let out a sigh, smoke going with it. You laugh, dragging a hand down your face.

"Listen, don't ever fall in love, man. Shit sucks." You sighed, resting your head against the cool brick. Trevor started to say something but the rest of the three burst through the doors. Lars was wearing his red jacket, walking towards the car. Lucky was carrying yours in her arm, right on the heels of Lars. He spotted you and Trevor sitting down against the wall. Trevor hopped up, offering you a kind hand. You took it, cigarette still in hand.

"Put that shit out." Lars commanded, crossing his arms. You glared at him before taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out. You dropped the rest on the ground, twisting your foot against it which successfully put it out.

"Happy?" You huffed, throwing your arms out in surrender. He just stared at you before pushing past you to get to the car. 'Bitch' You mutter under your breath. God he’s insufferable. Following them, you hopped into the passage seat. Lucky handed you your red jacket, which you put on before you buckled up. You zipped it up all the way burying your face in the collar. Lars watched you from his peripheral, drumming his fingers on the wheel.

“Are gonna stare or drive the goddamn car?” You snapped, turning to gaze at him. His hand tightened on the wheel and started to drive.

To say that Lars was a good driver was a pretty big overstatement. You were even lucky you made it to the school alive, much less in once piece.

“You are never ever driving again, Lars.” You said, stumbling out of the car as a wave of nausea hits you.

“Stuff it.” He replied, pushing up his broken glasses. You turned your gaze to the school, which stood ominously in the distance. You shivered, which didn’t go unnoticed by Lars. He took a small step closer to you, his hand ghosting the small of your back. You jumped slightly at his feather touch, but relished it. Lars flicked on your switch, making your proton pack hum with the familiar ‘whirring’ sound. You walked to the front steps, pushing open the two massive double wooden doors. You were blasted by a cold air, which you stumbled back from.

“S-shit.” You muttered, hands shaking ever so slightly. You reached for your flashlight, but froze when you saw a shadow figure dart through the darkness.

“Lars.” You whispered, a lump forming in your throat. Lars was off busy helping the others get their packs on, which meant you were the only one at the front. You felt something tugging you forward. You stumbled back into the school following the tugging sensation to a room downstairs.

Lars looked up, about to ask you something, when he noticed you were gone.

“Where the bloody hell did Y/N go?” He asked, looking around. His question was answered when he heard your frantic screams coming from inside of the building. They all looked at each other, then bolted to the building.

The building was absolutely freezing. That you were certain of. The frigid temperature fucked a little with your head, at least that’s what you can conclude. You found that being able to see in the dark was not your forte, which caused you to fall down a flight of stairs.

“OH FUCKING SHIT—!” You screech, tumbling down the stairs. You landed with your head cracking against the cold floor. Groaning, you tried to lift your head, but you felt like you were spinning like a top. You eventually stood, swaying slightly after. You blinked a few times, holding your head in your hands. In the corner of your eye, you could see another shadow figure. It was tall, tall enough to reach the ceiling. It started to approach you, but you let out a scream, starting to run back up the stairs. You felt a push, then you tumbled back down the stairs, smashing your head into the pavement again. You landed on your knee, successfully snapping the bone in your shin. You let out another bloodcurdling scream, spitting out blood in the process.

You felt lightheaded as blood spilled from your shin and lips, dribbling down your chin and neck. You were in too much pain to cry as you crumpled to the floor again. You heard all three of them yelling your name, but you couldn’t yell back. Instead, you pulled yourself across the floor, leaving a long streak of blood as you went. With as much effort as you could muster, you pulled yourself to the steps. It took everything for you to scream,

“LARS!!!”

Footsteps could be heard, which sounded like heavy boots clomping towards you. You clawed at the steps, trying to grip anything that you could to pull yourself up. The blond man appeared in the doorway, shining a flashlight down the stairwell. Lars hair was tousled, eyes wide. You make out how he was panting, as well as a horrified look painted across his face.

“oh my god.” Was all he said. He rushed down the stairwell to get you. You couldn’t make out much of anything, you kept fading in and out of consciousness. His hands, his strong and elegant hands held your face as he tried to keep you awake. Your breaths became labored again as you felt extreme pain rippling through your limbs. You let out another scream, which was muffled by Lars chest as he picked you up and started to rush you outside. One of his hands found purchase in your hair, gently stroking it with his thumb as he ran to the car.

Lars felt like it took years to make it to the hospital. His red jacket was drenched in your blood, but he couldn’t care less about what he looked like as he rushed you into the ER. Immediately after, you were rushed into a room, where you would reside for God knows how long. Lars sat next to Lucky, his face grim. He didn’t care how long he had to wait to see you again, just as long as he could see you. Lars stayed there all night, into the morning to be able to see you. When they told him that he could see you, he ran to your room as fast as he could. There you laid, eyes closed, face peaceful. When you heard the footsteps, you opened your eyes and found the blond man standing in your doorway.

“Bloody hell, I thought I’d never see you again.” Lars breathed as he approached your right side. Your hand lay limp on the top of the bedsheet. He brought up a chair and sat, taking your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.

“I was so scared that you were going to die, I couldn’t bear to see it.” He further explained. You smiled weakly and croaked,

“Are you being nice right now? That’s so unlike you Lars.”

Before you said anything else, Lars pressed a kiss to your lips. It wasn’t your ideal first kiss with him, but you relished the feeling.

“I didn’t save you because I thought it was the good thing to do, I saved you because I love you.” Lars whispered, his nose brushing yours.

“God I love you too, Lars.” You whispered back.

#ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters x reader #ghostbusters #lars pinfield x reader #lars pinfield #james acaster #lars pinfield x you

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foxaftershocks · 8 months ago

Note

HEAR ME OUT!! Lars with a reader, who was a ghost but somehow got their life back. Because of that, reader is pretty much forced to be in the lab 24/7 (much to their disdain) with Lars running tests on them. Enemies to lovers 🫶

(Also, you're like the best author ever on here.)

Clearly I really liked this prompt because I wrote a lot for it. Like, seriously, this is so long. I hope you like it as much as I do.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

Lars growled under his breath, pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. Sitting on the able, feet kicking backwards and forwards, you were grinning at him with such smugness it made his blood boil. He knew how to do his job without the input of a woman who knew nothing about parapsychology. You weren’t a scientist. You were just some girl who happened to come back to life. Nothing special.

“Still wrong,” you sung.

His fingers tightened around your arm, holding you still. He tightened the band around your bicep, pressing the electrodes against your chest with more force than was necessary. You muttered something just outside of his hearing, most likely a curse word. Your swearing was not something he was unfamiliar with. It had been resounding through the lab for weeks now.

“Just sit still,” he ordered, returning to his equipment.

You wiggled right up until the point he turned the machine on, probably trying to make a point. If you were, he missed it through disinterest. He watched the output on the machine, your heartbeat strong and steady. No blips, nothing to suggest you’d once been a ghost.

“Anything?” you asked.

He pressed his lips together. You could never just sit in silence, continually talking in his ear, playing with his stuff. Your presence was was unending. You had been made to live in the lab while they worked out how you’d come back, and as someone who basically lived in the lab himself, you had seemed to designate him as your favourite form of entertainment. You needled him. He knew it. And yet he kept letting you get under his skin.

“Not if you keep talking,” he said.

He got up, moving closer to readjust a few of the monitors. Returning back to the readout, there was a spike in your heart rate before it calmed down again. Interesting. Glancing up, you were glaring at him, seemingly not feeling the exertion you were showing.

“Feeling alright?” he asked.

“Aw, you do care,” you said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“Just answer the question,” he said.

“I feel fine,” you replied.

He watched you for another moment. Your head tipped up, looking to the ceiling as your feet continued to kick. You did seem fine. He had to trust you on that.

He hated not having answers.

You floated away on soft footsteps when he released you from his tests. You didn’t even bother saying goodbye and he knew it’s because he’d be seeing you later. You never seemed able to stop yourself from interrupting his day.

Looking back over the readouts the only thing that jumped out at him was the elevation in heart rate for a few minutes. Nothing else suggested anything had happened. He stared at it, trying to piece together what was going on. And yet it still wasn’t outside the bounds of normal mortal hearts.

Nothing indicated how you’d come back from being a ghost. Every test bringing up nothing. If he was a religious man, he would have said it was God playing a cosmic practical joke on him, sending him the one person who drove him crazy.

“If you never find anything am I forced to stay here until I become a ghost again?” you asked, appearing out of nowhere, whispering in his ear.

Perhaps you’d brought some things back with you when you’d become corporeal again. Silent as the wind, able to sneak up on him, your laughter echoing long after you were gone. It was eery and yet nothing indicated you were anything but a healthy human.

“You’ll stay here as long as necessary,” he replied, refusing to give you more.

“At what point does this become kidnapping?” you mused, hauling yourself up onto the bench in front of him.

Your feet kicked again, your toes brushing against his thigh. He froze, the feeling lingering before you did it again. He caught you, fingers circling your ankle. Your eyes found his, lips curling up into a slight smile. He stared back, caught in a bubble of time where everything stopped. Breath held and body frozen, the warmth of your soft skin against his making his head spin.

“Don’t tempt me to tie you up,” he murmured.

“Pretty kinky, Pinfield,” you said, voice soft and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were sharing a joke with him, “who knew you had it in you.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

Your eyes lit up and he had to fight against the impulse to find out every single way he could make it happen again. There was something about it, the way it felt like a constant battle of wits with you. It was intoxicating.

He shoved your foot away, coming back to himself. You drew back from where you’d been leaning closer to him and he turned away, ignoring you as he tried to get on with work. From his peripheral vision he saw you slide back to the ground, a huffed laugh coming from you as you slipped away.

He lost track of you again, hours going by until the sun had gone down. A bed had been set up in what had once been a junk room for you to sleep in, the veneer of privacy all the lab could offer you. For months you’d been living there, under observation, in case something changed. There was no explanation for how you’d come back from your stint as a ghost. Nothing paranormal going on anymore.

You were a mystery he was determined to solve.

A bowl of noodles was slid in front of him. Looking up, he found you taking a seat across from him, your own bowl steaming in front of you. He looked down into it, his glasses steaming up with the condensation. He huffed, taking them off to wipe them clean. The expression on your face when he put them on again wasn’t one he’d seen before.

“What’s this?” he asked, nudging the bowl you’d placed in front of him.

“Ramen,” you replied, “only the instant stuff from the kitchen but it’s better than nothing.”

He sniffed, pursing his lips at you.

“It’s not poisoned,” you said.

Your chopsticks dipped into your own bowl, pulling noodles into your mouth. He watched you for a moment, before sighing, the rumble of his stomach enough to urge him on. If it was poisoned they’d find his body in the morning and be hunting you down.

“Is there a reason you stay so late every night?” you asked, “I know you’re not doing it to keep me company.”

“I have a lot of work to do,” he replied, surprised you’d asked.

“You sleep here sometimes,” you said, an offhand observation as you shovelled more noodles in your mouth.

“You always sleep here,” he replied.

“Not by choice,” you muttered, chopsticks stabbing down.

“Do you really hate it here so much?” he asked.

“Pinfield, you’ve made me a prisoner. I can’t leave without supervision. I can’t go home. You haven’t even let me contact my friends and family. You try being happy under those circumstances,” you said, levelling a glare at him.

“But you got a second chance,” he said, not hiding his frustration, “you came back. No one else has ever gotten that.”

“That you know of,” you said, almost in a sing song voice.

He paused for a moment. It’s true, someone else could have returned from ghosthood without being documented. It took long enough for people to even accept the existence of the paranormal. Documented cases were a mixed bag of those with scientific merit and those without.

“Can I expect to see you at breakfast?” you asked, “I have strawberry poptarts.”

“You’re mad if you think those are better than the brown sugar cinnamon ones,” he said.

“I have to assume this wrong opinion is because you’re not from here,” you said, sounding deadly serious.

“I’ve done the research. I have the data. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable but the science speaks for itself,” he said, adjusting his glasses.

“Well, you can keep your pseudoscience and your bad taste to yourself. You’re not invited to breakfast anymore,” you said, sniffing.

The spike of irritation cut through the playful atmosphere. That word, pseudoscience, it was the exact thing to raise his hackles. He would never engage in such stupidity. To be reduced to such a word had his blood boiling.

But then he looked up and saw the way you were smiling into your ramen, eyes darting up to him, the twinkle obvious. The irritation melted away upon the realisation that you were poking fun at him. That you were joking. That you were purposefully trying to get under his skin. And you knew him well enough to do it with ease. He’d fallen right into your trap.

A spark of electricity ran through his veins at the realisation.

“Don’t work too hard, nerd,” you said, hopping off your stool, taking the empty bowl away from in front of him.

He watched you walk away, many things going on in his head. Mostly, surprise that it had been pleasant having dinner with you. That spark of playfulness made him want to follow you and that didn’t sit right with him.

Accepting that, he decided to head home, the night over for him. There was no chance he was going to be able to finish his work. Not when he knew you could be lurking in the shadows around him.

The next morning he found you sitting in front of the possessor’s enclosure, seeming to play with it from behind the plexiglass. One of those cursed poptarts was dangling from one hand, half eaten as your focus was completely on the ghost in front of you. He let himself watch you, knowing he wasn’t being watched in return. Your smile was bright, your laugh genuine, eyes sparkling as you played. It struck him that you’d never looked at him that way.

“Please tell me you’re not trying to convert the possessor to your inferior flavour of poptarts,” he said.

You looked up, the smile slipping from your face. With a grace he knew he would never had, you rose from your crossed legged position, looking at him with a scowl. Approaching, he found his eyes resting on the bit of icing clinging to the corner of your lips. Without much thought, he reached up, thumb brushing it free. You blinked, mouth falling open. He cursed inwardly, not sure what to make of his own actions.

“More tests today,” he said, hoping to sweep what he’d done under the rug.

“Yay, I cannot wait,” you said, the sarcasm back in your tone.

“Follow me,” he ordered.

You trailed behind him, finishing off your breakfast. He was trying to ignore it, the sound of you, the feeling of your skin burning the pad of his thumb, the unsettled feeling in his stomach. He didn’t even need to ask you as you hopped up onto the gurney that had been set up after one too many accidents in the lab. Having a routine with you felt intimate, like your lives were intwining too much and he wanted to force you out.

“Blood works today,” he said, already reaching for a needle.

“I’m going to be a ghost again from all the blood you take,” you muttered.

When he turned back to you, your hands were crossed over the front of your body, holding the hem of your jumper. It was like watching in slow motion as you lifted it over your head, exposing the tight tank top you had on underneath. His eyes were lingering on your body, longer than he knew was appropriate, and yet not able to stop.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you said, dumping the crumpled up jumper to one side.

He didn’t have an answer. The entire day was not going the way he expected and he felt off kilter, almost dizzy with his own reaction to you. Ignoring it, he stepped up to you, taking one arm. He was close enough to hear your snort, the brush of your breath against his skin sending a shiver down his spine.

With a soft fingertip, he traced over the veins inside your elbow. The breath seemed to stutter in your chest and he looked up at you, from under eyelashes, head still bowed over your arm. Your lips had parted again, something inexplicable on your face. He wanted to dig down into the expression, to take it apart until he understood every part of it. The look in your eyes was making him want to drag you closer.

“Don’t look,” he murmured, plucking the needle up from where it waited.

Your eyes closed, face turning away from him. He let his gaze linger for a moment longer before he got to work. Just another sample to be analysed later. He pushed whatever moment had passed the between of you to the back of his mind, not wanting to think on it.

“All done,” he said, pressing a cotton bud to the point of extraction.

Your finger brushed his as you took over applying pressure to the inside of your elbow. He took a moment before he stepped away, checking your colour. You looked up, catching him in the act, lips quirking up in a questioning smile.

“Go eat something,” he said, “not one of those awful poptarts.”

“Make me,” you said.

The impulse to carry you away and force you to eat something good was intense. He could picture it, the way he would sling you over his shoulder and march away with you. It was very caveman, so different from how he usually was. It broke the moment, leaving him unsure of what to say as he stepped back. Something flashed over your face, too quick for him to understand as you slithered to the floor.

“Enjoy staring at my blood you psycho,” you said as a parting shot.

“I’m not-“ he called after you before giving up. It wasn’t worth it.

He took some time to go analyse the new blood sample, searching for any paranormal signifiers. It seemed normal, like anyone else’s blood would. Dead end after dead end was making him want to bash his head against the wall. He wanted answers and he wanted them now.

He kept telling himself it was to get you out of his lab. Even if that little voice in the back of his head was saying something else.

The next time he saw you, you were curled up in one of the old armchairs that Lucky had dragged in one day in order to make the place more comfortable. You had a book open in your lap, hair falling forward. He paused, watching when your finger reached up, tucking some of the hair behind your ear. He could imagine it, the path his finger would take as he did the same thing, your soft skin against his fingertip.

“You’re actually quite smart,” you said and he realised his presence hadn’t gone as unnoticed as he thought.

“I know I am,” he replied.

Stepping closer, he noticed the book in your lap was a collection of essays, one of which he knew was his. Written a few years ago, before he’d had the funding he did now, his research was splayed out in your lap, your gaze tracing over it. The intimate feeling was a shock to him, the way it felt as if you were caressing his brain. You were reading his words. Words written years ago before he knew someone like you could exist. He felt his chest puff when you looked at him.

“Your writing could be clearer. You make it all so complicated,” you said.

He deflated, the pride he’d felt leaking from him. Once again, it left a flickering flame of resentment in its wake, and he wanted to lash out again. His mouth opened but you beat him to the punch.

“But your ideas are sound and you clearly know your stuff. I suppose I’m lucky I have your mind working on whatever mystery is going on with me.”

He sauntered closer, that same pride reigniting. You watched him approach, a half smile on your face as if you knew the exact reaction you were causing in him. He felt smug, knowing he was taking up space in your brain. You’d spent your time reading his research paper. You’d taken time out of your day to let his words seep into your brain.

“Very lucky,” he said, coming to a stop in front of you.

His words might have been flirty if it was anyone but you.

“But then I suppose you’re lucky getting to spend so much time with me,” you said.

Your bare foot reached out, your toes brushing against his shin. He lent forward, hands coming to rest on the back of the chair, right above your head. Towering over you, you looked so small to him, like something he could protect. But he kept you trapped there, looking down into your face.

“Lucky to have such a pain in my arse?” he asked, keeping his tone light.

“Well, you need something to get the stick out of it,” you replied. Only there was no bite to it.

“Been thinking about my arse a lot, have you?” he asked.

“You should be so lucky,” you laughed.

He lent closer, watching the moment you realised how close he was. He found himself feeling out of control around you, like his inhibitions had fled him. He couldn’t help it. Whenever it came to you lately, he lost himself to giving in to all his impulses.

One of which was screaming loudly at him.

The laughter died on your lips and he didn’t miss it when your eyes dipped down to his. He was close enough to feel your warmth, towering over you, leaning into your space. Your fingers clenched around the book in your lap, foot brushing his leg again. Just that touch, small as it was, sent electricity rocketing through his body. He wanted more of it. He wanted more of you.

Oh.

Oh no.

He wanted you.

He had never denied you were beautiful, that you were bright, that you were charismatic. But he had denied ever liking you. Only now, so close to you, watching the way you reacted to him, it became blindly obvious to him that he’d been lying to himself.

“Can I help you with something, Pinfield?” you asked, voice soft, barely above a murmur.

He thought that if he kissed you now you would kiss him back. Almost certain of it. Pretty sure you would. But that small amount of doubt niggled at him. You could be so prickly with him and you’d told him you hated being there. He was part of the lab. What if you actually didn’t like him?

“Cat got your tongue?” Your half smile had softened, just enough to make him question it all again, “I don’t think you’ve ever been so silent with me.”

He lent back, straightening up, leaving you blinking up at him, confusion marring your features. Turning on his heels, he stalked away from you, the confusion and the tangle of confused emotions making him need to retreat as fast as possible. The ache was new, wanting to go back and finish what he’d started. He couldn’t. Not if you were going to laugh in his face and tell him he was deluded. No one like you could ever possibly want him.

So he did the cowardly thing. He avoided you.

Days went by, hiding away in shadowy corners, doing all the work he’d been putting off to study you. The things no one wanted to do. Filing, cleaning, sorting, anything to keep you from finding him. Only he’d misjudged it. He’d forgotten you’d been living there long enough to find every single secret hiding spot.

After a few days, you found him in a secluded corner, far from everyone else working in the lab. He didn’t know how many other people knew about that spot, retreating to it whenever he needed time alone. Sitting on the floor, knees bent towards his chest, head in his hands, fingers clenched in his hair, he didn’t notice your approach. Or rather, the left over ghostly powers you had kept you silent as you came upon him.

“Have you given up on me?” His head jerked up at your voice, “the fire get too hot for you?”

“What?” he asked. You couldn’t know. There was no way you could know.

“Usually you’re poking and prodding me every day trying to figure out why ghosthood has forsaken me. Have you finally accepted there’s nothing to find and I can be released back into the wild?”

You walked towards him, and his mouth went dry with how your hips swayed. You stood over him, hands on your hips, staring down at him with an oddly fierce look on your face.

“I know it’s not because you’re doing anything more important. Clearly. Look at you. You’re sitting here in the dark doing nothing,” he said.

“Maybe that’s more important than studying you,” he replied, leaning his head back against the wall as he gazed up at you.

“Either you’re working on this mystery or you’re not. If you’re done can you let me know so I can clear out of here. I’d like to have a real place to live again,” you said.

“It’ll get done,” he replied.

“Really? Because you’ve been M.I.A. for days now. My entire life is put on paused because you can’t be bothered doing your job,” you continued on, as if you didn’t care about his answer.

“It’ll get done,” he said, firmer, standing as if that would get the point across.

“Sure it will, after you’ve spent the right amount of time hiding from the big scary scientific questions. What’s got you so rattled huh? I didn’t take you for the kind of man who would go running scared the minute things got difficult,” you said.

“Shut up,” he said.

“Or what?” you demanded, “the longer you drag your feet on this the longer I’m forced to live like a fugitive on the run hiding out from the law. Or maybe you hate me enough to want to keep me under lock and key.”

“You don’t know anything,” he ground out from between gritted teeth.

“Clearly because apparently I’m so abhorrent you have to avoid me. I thought we were alright. Fuck me, I guess. I can’t keep up with you. There is something seriously wrong with you, dude,” you said.

“Shut up,” he said again, taking a step forward until he was in your personal space.

He could feel all of the emotions simmering under the surface. You were staring at him, anger flashing in your eyes and you looked fierce. It made his blood sing, going toe to toe with you. He didn’t have the ability to deal with this today, not when he’d been fighting against his need to grab you and kiss you and drag you into the first private place he could find and show you exactly what you did to him.

“Not until you explain why you’re leaving me high and dry,” you said, both hands coming up to shove at his chest.

He caught you around the wrists, holding you like a pair of manacles. His thumb brushed over the bare skin of your inner wrist, over your pulse point. You stared at him, mouth falling open and he couldn’t figure out if it was through confusion or indignation. Tugging you closer, you were so close, your body heat brushing against him and he realised what a mistake that had been. But once again, impulse took over his brain when you were near.

“What are you doing?” you all but whispered.

“Shutting you up.”

He swooped down, kissing you, his fingers tightening around your wrists. He felt you gasp more than he heard it, but it was enough for his tongue to slip into your mouth. You were frozen for just a moment and he was certain you were about to knee him in the gonads. Then, you melted, pressing closer, kissing him back until you took his breath away.

The fire and the passion you’d brought about in him seemed to have found a match. You tugged out of his hold, arms twining around his neck as his hands slid around your body, pressing you into him. The small noise you made only stoked the fire further. His hands cupped your arse and your teeth sunk into his lower lip. He was surprised at the rush that gave him, the spike of pain followed by the soothing of your tongue running over it.

He spun, pushing you against the wall he’d so recently been leaning against. You arched towards him. His hands landed either side of your body, keeping you trapped there, caging you in. You kissed him deeper, longer, and all he could do was groan and sink into it.

You were everywhere, in every single one of his senses, consuming him. All he could do was press closer, groaning when your fingers slid into his hair, tugging on it, playing with it, mussing it. It was so much better than he could have imagined.

“Fuck love,” he mumbled, his lips trailing down your neck, “who knew shutting you up could be so enjoyable in so many ways?”

“You’re such an asshole,” you laughed, breathless as you tilted your head, offering yourself up to him.

“I think that says more about you than it does about me,” he said, teeth sinking in to your skin for just a moment.

“No one said I ever made the sensible decisions,” you said.

He drew back, looking at you. Bright eyes and kiss stung lips, you were a vision he would never grow tired of seeing. He brought a hand up, cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. You nipped at the pad of his thumb and he chuckled.

“Then I think you should have dinner with me tonight,” he said, “if you’re determined to not make sensible decisions.”

“I’m not allowed out,” you reminded him.

“You are with supervision. Call me your own personal ankle monitor,” he said, “I won’t take my eyes off you.”

“Sounds like you’ll be getting more out of it than I will. Especially if I wear a sexy little number,” you said.

“And why would you do that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Maybe because I’m so desperate to sleep in a proper bed I’m willing to go home with you,” you replied.

“So you’re going to seduce me?”

“I think I already have.”

You looked down, indicating the lack f space between your bodies. The leg he’d inserted between yours. The hand on your hip, keeping you pressed against the wall. His own swollen lips and flushed cheeks. The chuckle that fell from his lips was soft, and yet joyful.

“I suppose you have,” he agreed.

“So, dinner?” you asked.

“Tonight. No need for a sec little number. I’ll be taking you home even if you’re in your pyjamas,” he said and he liked the way that sentiment seemed to melt you.

“I think you might be a closet romantic, Pinfield,” you said, lips curling up into a small smile.

“I suppose you’ll have to stick with me if you want to find out,” he replied.

Impulse drove him to kiss you again, only this time, he was certain you’d kiss him back. You did not disappoint.

#lars pinfield #lars pinfield imagine #lars pinfield x reader #request #anon

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atheneummm · 9 months ago

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everyday the lars pinfield lovers grow stronger and slightly more invincible.

#cmon team #imagine me acting like a coach on the sidelines #lars pinfield #lars pinfield x reader #ghostbusters #frozen empire

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frogserotonin · 8 months ago

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overthinker- lars pinfield x reader

a/n: short one bc im still in a slump rn many sorries. also sorry lawl this fic is so disconjointed and i’m really unhappy with it but whatever 😭 warnings: nothin proper i don’t think, most ooc lars to ever ooc, unedited; tell me if i've spelt smth wrong 😁

“Would you want to go out to get some lunch together on our break?” Your fingertips bounce off of the sides of your legs as you try to remain composed. You're so high-strung right now, you almost expect him to laugh in your face. Nerves and the effects of having slept a fitful two hours last night override your usually rational brain and you feel the need to just run away without receiving an answer bloom in your chest.

“I thought you usually brought lunch? If you forgot to bring some you can have some of mine, if you want.” Lars doesn’t even look up from what he’s working on, just adjusts his glasses and uses a vague jut of his elbow to point to his locker, where you know his bag is. Your heart simultaneously drops and stutters.

“Oh, it’s okay, I just felt like going out to eat, thank you though.” You try to make your words seem more upbeat than you feel, unsure of whether or not to take his words as a rejection.

“Oh. Okay then.” It must be your imagination, but his words hold a hint of disappointment. You open your mouth again, then close it, and silence re-envelopes the room. Turning, you make your way to your desk and begin to work away, dejection slumping your shoulders forward and making time drag on. When eventually the lunch break arrives, you grab your bag and rush your way out of the lab.

A squeak of shoes on the concrete floor behind you almost has you looking back, but your brain is so addled you almost believe you’ve made it up.

Like a fool, you don't talk to him when you come back, or when you leave, the time you spend alone and in silence building up an anxiety in the back of your mind. The idea that he's all too aware of your feelings, and is made uncomfortable by them and your advances overtakes you completely. That night, you stay awake, tossing and turning, over analysing every interaction you've ever had with him, trying to make sure you've not overstepped and made a complete and utter fool of yourself.

In the morning, you consider it a miracle you leave the house at all, with how tired you are. The thought of calling in sick crosses your mind, but by the time you get up your body automatically locks itself into its usual routine, and you mindlessly get dressed and make your way to the Ghostbusters facilities. Through your drowsiness, the realisation that you’re at your desk and doing absolutely nothing sets in and you jolt.

“Good morning.” If he didn’t sound so concerned, Lars would sound thoroughly amused. “You alright? Look a bit…off.” Your face flares, and you go to stand up, only to stumble and almost fall on your face. Hands out, you stabilise yourself, and then face him.

“Yeah. Morning.” You can only hope that he backs off, because his concern seems too genuine for your feelings to not expand exponentially the more he stands before you looking like he cares. “M’feeling just peachy, you?.” Belatedly, you realise your words are clearly not convincing because he doesn’t move an inch, simply studying you. He then sighs and shakes his head, chuckling a little bit, just softly under his breath, taking a couple steps closer to you.

“When’s the last time you slept?” His voice is too gentle, too un-Lars-like, that you’re almost convinced you actually did fall asleep last night, and now you’re dreaming. You open your mouth to respond, but find yourself nodding off as you do so, the last thing you process before fully passing out is the feeling of arms around your chest and shoulders.

When you come to, you sit up quickly, and slowly become aware of what had happened. Muttering cursing to yourself under your breath, you take in your surroundings, finding yourself slung over the small couch situated in the room reserved for taking time off from work briefly. Hurriedly, you rush out of the room towards where you assume Lars is working, apology already on the tip of your tongue. You approach him quickly and loudly, a fact that can be gathered from his head immediately snapping up when you enter the room. He starts to speak, no doubt to rattle off reasons why you were irresponsible and stupid for coming to work while being aware you weren’t at your fullest capacity, but you cut him off.

“God, I’m so sorry. That was humiliating, and I’m so, so sorry that it happened, it won’t happen again.” You bow your head, refusing to look him in the eye, but quickly look up again when you hear him laugh.

“It’s fine, really, you just scared me a little bit.” His smile is small, but sincere and you remember fully the reason you were in the predicament in the first place. “Are you feeling better now?”

You probably look a bit crazy with how vigorously you nod, but you barely care anymore.

“Yes, thank you so much, really, I’m sorry that it happened.” He laughs again, and it sounds like heaven.

“You don’t need to thank me or apologise,” Lars’ eyes sparkle a bit behind his glasses when he properly smiles, and you can feel warmth rush to your face. He hesitates, like he’s calculating his words, then gently says “I-uh. I care for you a lot, it really meant nothing for me to make sure you were okay.”

#lars pinfield #lars pinfield x reader #ghostbusters frozen empire

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matchesarelit · 9 months ago

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Imagine If You Will... Just Us (Lars Pinfield X gn!Reader)

Prompts: “I thought it was going to be just us today” from @pookie-and-cereal's list (here) AND #17, #28 and #30 from @thelonelyempath's list (here).

W.C: ~3k

Warnings: Gary gets typical 3rd wheel treatment, science flirting (it's real bad),

Coming back from Ray's, your arms were killing, turns out hiking over an hour over public transport with more than ten kilos of, for a lack of a better word, junk, was not the brightest idea. Lars had texted you late last night, gushing over the newest adaptions he'd make to the extractor; how much time was saved on every use, how low the resistance rate was etc.

So naturally, when he invited you to come in on the weekend to try it out, your reply could have broken the sound barrier, if it weren't a text that is. You weren't exactly in his realm in regards to ghostbusting science, now don't get me wrong you did ghost bust on occasion, but your main focus was on the PR end of Ghost Corps. Yes, it is a very stressful job. That being so, you weren't sure why he'd chosen to invite you, surely another scientist would be able to understand it better.

Well, who truly cares... you were getting the rare chance to witness his dorky joy and that was not something you were going to turn down.

Finally trudging in through the main doors, you let out a grievous grunt as you dropped the box of trinkets onto a nearby trolley. Tugging it along behind you as you made your way to the main lab, you waved as you always did towards the enclosed ghosts in the hallway. Finally setting sights on the elaborate workspaces of the many scientists that work crammed into the space, you allowed your smile to overtake your features, eager as always to see Lars in his natural environment.

You'd first met when you stated on the G.C PR team, you'd been eager to set up a web page for the Ghostbusters with a page profile for all involved scientists. Winston had had you meet them all here in the lab, Lars was one of the first you'd met and you'd gotten along immediately.

"Heyo! I think you're gonna have to send Ray a gift basket with the amount of stuff he gave us-" Your rattled-out greeting was cut short as your eyes fell on the pair of men huddled by one of the desks. As they turned to greet you, you felt your steps slow, the air felt dense against your movements. Lars had forced out a smile that had no hopes of reaching his eyes, while the man by his side, Gary Grooberson, seemed to be dripping in ecstatic energy as he jogged over to meet you by the steps.

As he lifted the front end of the trolley and helped you carry it down, your eyes fell back on Lars, he was once again facing away from you and he'd retreated to the large mechanical focus of your visit. His hands were busy doing, what even you could tell from across the room, was absolutely nothing.

Cutting your study short, Gary captured you in a hug, it was as it always is; warm and comforting and definitely more for him than it was for you. You had time and time again succeeded in putting a good spin on whatever ruckus his family had created, so he was by no means a new acquaintance, neither was his proclivity for hugs a surprise.

Gary's greeting however flew right past your ears, tearing your focus away from the man on the other side of the space was proving much too difficult. To your luck however, you managed a gentle greeting and casual inquiry of how his family was doing before a notable amount of time had passed.

With a conscious effort you set your eyes on Gary, resolved to focus on the conversation at hand, the man before you was a friend after all. As the conversation continued, small updates about how the Spenglers and co were doing outside of the ghost busts filled the next half hour, before the dialogue began to stall.

Until, Gary, ever the extrovert, started to rifle through the box you'd brought in,

'So, are you as excited for today as I am? It sounds like Lars has been making absolute leaps and bounds with this stuff.'

Now, you wouldn't say you were projecting your voice when you spoke up, nonetheless, it definitely wasn't a normal speaking level. 'Yeah! I can't wait to see what he's been up to...' You trailed off as you glanced towards where Lars still stood, his back to the two of you but his hands had now stilled in place, a change you all but reveled in.

Lars wasn't a guy who enjoyed being alone all to much, you'd been able to gather as such within moments of meeting him. Luckily, that first time, you'd caught him on a good day; when talking about his work, rather than doing it, was pretty much exactly what he wanted to do. He'd tried to come across as a sort of stoic and while it was clear he did enjoy the solitude, the way he interacted with his peers made it crystal clear how much he also enjoyed such conversations.

That was part of why his actions today seemed so strange... You weren't exactly his peer as a scientist, but you knew enough about ghosts and he'd shared similar achievements with you in the past, not to mention the fact that he, himself, had invited you here only last night.

As for Gary, he was a scientific man himself, so why the Lars wasn't chatting happily with him about the newest changes to the mechanism was a mystery to say the least.

You'd hate to admit it, although it wasn't hard to notice by any means, you'd obliviously thought it was just going to be the two of you. So it took some quick metal re-wiring upon realizing you wouldn't just be able to fawn so freely over the unsuspecting scientist as you often did.

In that moment you'd felt bad, noting that both of you were acting strange and that that couldn't have been too fun for Gary.

Although... you considered perhaps Lars was simply overthinking his progress, now that his audience was present. Maybe he just needed a little push to start, like one of those old timey planes.

'Lars' Your call cracked through the silence of the facility, your voice finally tugging the man in question to turn on the spot. 'Come on Science-man, show us what you've got!'

He shook his head slightly in a sort of incredulity as he turned back around, your shoulders fell slightly, but only momentarily as his voice soon bounced around the room.

'Come on then'

Your eager smile reappeared on your face as you beelined towards the large prism like container in the middle of the workplace, where he stood hitting, what you could only assume, were the start up buttons. Your eyes on him, and his eyes on the machine -with you safely in his peripherals- Gary was left to wheel over the box of supplies. His mumblings of something about third wheeling and losing his phone, all but faded to oblivion in your focus.

Stepping back from the small panel and towards yourself and Gary, Lars seemed to pause for a moment, glancing once between you and his chair that sat empty by the control screen. You brushed off the look he'd given as he began to speak, as a mutual offer between him, yourself and Gary, You'd chosen consciously however, to not plop down in it yourself.

Strangely, claiming his seat whenever he stood from it, felt like something you could only do in private, although it usually occurred when ten or so other scientists also occupied the space. You suppose, sitting there; your head in your hand, as you gawk up at him was a lot more obvious when the only other person in the room would be standing mere feet away.

Whilst you turned your own thoughts over in your head, Gary had taken the chair for himself, muttering out a cheeky, 'ya snooze ya lose'. While you were still mulling things over, Gary caught what you didn't; a flash of a glare passing over Lars' features as he paused his explanation.

Choosing to remain comfy, Gary shot the younger scientist a simple smile, before tilting his head in your direction. With one look to you, your in-your-head state was obvious and Lars was talking a step towards you, your name a whisper on his lips.

Snapping out of your thoughts, and meeting his eyes, you immediately rushed out an apology running shaky hands down your face as you promised to listen closely.

From there it was somewhat business as usual, Lars went about explaining his changes, with yourself, and Gary, asking prompting questions every once and a while. You'd resolved to simply enjoy his company as you usually would, extra company be damned. Sorry Gary.

Gaping up at him in the way you always did, you were yet again in awe of Lars. The way his eyes shone a little brighter when the machine worked perfectly and how he would always look eagerly to you a soft smile on his face. Ghost by ghoul, the three of you went about testing for a while, with Lars occasionally ducking his head towards the wiring or control panel to make some small adjustment, only to return with a beaming smile when the following test went by even faster.

Watching him work was always enjoyable. He was always either grinning like a fool or he had that small frown and furrowed brow that graced his features in a moment, usually quite brief, of struggle. All the same, even that echo of a scowl wasn't enough to diminish the glow you swore he gave off. Today was slightly different, there was no lab coat in sight, his goggles hung loosely around his neck and the top half of his jumpsuit had been tied 'round his waist. He seemed relaxed, at least if you ignored the tension that seemed to be holding his body together.

'Amazing' your murmured comment, and the countless like it, were more about him than his machine and whenever you caught his eyes with your own, you hoped he could see that. Gary, on the other hand was completely enthralled by the testing, rattling off compliments of his own with much higher frequency, mentions of the 'stellar efficiency' and 'innovative programming' which, I'm sad to say, went in one ear and out the other. Except, for when he managed to interrupt you in the midst of his enthusiasm, at which point he was met with yet another brief glare from the man of the hour.

The setting sun that bathed the three of you in warm tones of orange and yellow took you by surprise, and a quick glace to the box by your side revealed you had powered through more than three quarters of your supplies. You felt your shoulders fall considerably at this thought, now achingly aware you'd be expected to leave somewhat soon. Shocking you from your melancholy was the loud ring of Lars' phone, some 8-bit version of the Ghostbusters theme you'd set up on his phone some time ago, echoing about the space.

He hurriedly excused himself, and unwitting as usual your eyes lingered on the doorway he'd left through. Until a clambering of legs swung into your own, following them with an eyebrow raised you met Gary's stare as his own eyebrows wiggled fancifully. 'Soooo... I'm gonna get going, Callie just texted-' Catching him in a squinted glare you doubted '-didn't you say you'd lost your phone?'

'um-uh, okay so I'm just a little aware that you guys want to be alone.' His tone was anything but unsure, nevertheless he seemed hesitant to voice his concern.

'No don't go, I'm sorry I-I know I get a bit absorbed seeing him work, but he wants you here!' You'd felt horrible, you weren't aware how obvious you'd been.

'Its okay, I know you didn't mean to... Also I highly doubt Lars is all that happy about me being here.' You opened your mouth to argue but he shook his head simply as he continued. 'Winston invited me after Lars let him know he'd be here today, He didn't know until I got here and that half an hour before you arrived was tense enough.'

You supposed he was right, Lars had seemed pretty off earlier, but surely it wasn't that deep that Gary should leave. 'That's silly though, you're a scientist, if anyone is annoying him by hanging around surely its me... I mean I was asking all those inane questions.'

Your concern was met with the most well meaning, yet still a bit of a brush-off, cackle you'd heard from him, 'Except every one was met with a soft explanation and a confirmation that you understood, which wasn't exactly the response I've been getting. I doubt today was meant to be about the science as anything more than as a justification for inviting you over.'

Your brow furrowed at that, yourself and Lars had hung out before, you supposed it wasn't too frequently and it was usually a work outing where the two of you peeled off for a bit. Even so, why would he feel like he had to justify inviting you over?

'But we're friends, he knows he doesn't have to-' you stopped yourself as his footsteps reverberated through the halls, growing closer by the second.

Mid-way through turning your head to catch the doorway, Gary darted out of his chair. Stealing back your attention as he addressed yourself and you supposed lars, who you could imagine had stopped, lingering at the end of the hall at the other man's outburst. 'I've gotta get going, great seeing you guys... Good luck with the rest of the testing...' He was backing away now, towards the entryway, maneuvering around stray chairs and tables as he went. With a final flourish of a finger gun in Lars' direction, he was crossing the threshold and calling back over his shoulder. '...Not that you need it!'

You found yourself scoffing in disbelief as you continued to watch as the doors swung closed with a slam. Slowly turning on the spot you set sights on Lars. He was making his way over to you, shoulders still higher than usual, tight due to, as far as you could ascertain, the dramatic exit of the older man. Reaching out, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. As the slight weight of your hand settled on him you noted the relaxed fall of his shoulders, a sigh falling from his lips. Content with the slight ease in his demeanor you gave a slight squeeze and a hum of your own.

'So, should we get back to it?' Lars nodded, but otherwise remained completely still until you elected to remove your hand, at which point he spun on the spot and traipsed back over to the machine with a vigor that'd been notably absent all day.

Narrowing your eyes at the man in front of you, you watched as he returned to his regular As Seen On TV type demonstration. Now, with a pep in his step that you always found almost too intoxicating he placed a new object inside the chamber, closed it and started towards the computer.

'Hey, Lars? Can you level with me on something?' you hated to see how his movements stuttered to a halt at your vague interruption, but the question fell from your lips before you could think, 'Do you not like Gary?' His gaze seemed to flutter about the space, until his eyes were screwed shut, a shaky hand messing through his locks as his jaw dropped open, dancing silently in the nonexistent wind until you fixed him with pointed look and he suddenly found some words.

'I don't dislike him he's just very- He's smart it's just- its just that...' he trailed off, seemingly deciding to communicate through a jumpscare like gesture of his hands.

'He's very eager?' he nodded, glad you gotten his meaning, but he stilled when your head tilted ever so slightly.

'So am I.' With that thought your eyes had drifted from his, not shyly to the ground but dazed, as if fixed on some invisible specter only you could see. Your mind grew harsh faster than you'd care to admit, retroactively scanning every interaction with him against some intangible measure of frustration. There were surely times your presence slowed his work, distracting him with conversation or absurd what if's, not to mention the plethora of what you now realized must have been idiotic questions.

Surely he'd been speaking while you re-considered your very existence, but it wasn't until you felt the warmth of his hands on your shoulders that an ounce of sound managed to reach your brain.

'Hey, you okay there? You-you went blank on me.'

'I-um yeah -I just...' You had no clue what to say, how could you? Yeah sorry I was just thinking about how insufferable I must be to you, that came with a little spiraling as a treat.

Gathering that you'd most likely missed his in depth explanation of the difference between yourself and Gary from his perspective, Lars stepped away from you, considering the best way to dissolve the tension evident on your features. 'You and I, Us, we're not just colleagues, you don't just come to me to get new gadgets or answer some question you have... even if you do have a few. We're... something else, but when he's here its like he's extracting facts and figures, all the while you're just trying to understand me, m-my work. Its not his fault I- just I-'

'-Thought it was going to be just us today?' Cutting off his rambling you finally met his eyes. He shrugged nodding slightly as he held your gaze. 'If it makes it better?.. it is now.'

He released a bemused hmmf. 'I'll admit I wasn't the biggest fan of having to fight for your attention today. I'm pretty glad it is just the two of us again. Splitting your focus between me and my work is as much as I can handle.' Shaking your head in amusement at his sudden bluntness, you stepped towards him, a gentle hand against his chest, the eye contact mere inches long as you stood in his orbit.

'You are so oblivious... Trust me Lars there was not a moment that you weren't the nucleus of my afternoon.' A light groan was his only response to your overy-cheesy claim. 'No? what about...' you thought for a moment, tapping a finger to your chin.

'I'm much too weak to resist the gravity of your presence.' he narrowed his eyes at you own, looking for something you couldn't distinguish.

'Is that why you're in so close? My pull is too strong?' He didn't bother to cover the roll of his eyes or the teasing tone in his voice, but the smile that was paired with them was comfort enough to keep you talking.

'Mhmm You're just too enthralling Pinfield, you're gonna have to work on that if you want other people to be able to stand being around us'

Amidst all his scoffing and modest smiling, the blush that spung up across his cheeks was a sight for sore eyes, as his head lowered and he whispered into the paper thin space between you his tone even and resolute;

'Who says I'd ever want that?'

#lars pinfield x reader #lars pinfield #ghostbusters frozen empire #gbfe #ghostbusters

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ap41cu5 · 5 months ago

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Hello! I just finished watching Ghostbusters Frozen Empire because of your recommendation, and OH MY GOSH!! Lars is absolutely the type of character that i find attractive!!

I actually have a request for him! Here me out, A Lars and Female Reader, where she's his apprentice/assistant, and she secretly has feelings for him. But she feels guilty about it because he's essentially her boss! And she keeps having fairly sexual fantasies about him, normally when she's asleep or zoning out. But then, one day, he actually makes a sudden move on her, and she genuinely believes that she's simply having another fantasy again!

Reverie or Reality

Lars Pinfield x Fem! Reader Rating: Slight NSFW - Suggestive Themes Genre: Fluff Word Count: 2922 A/N: i hope this was what you were looking for! since ive never written for lars before, i dont know how in character he is, but i hope you enjoy!

His hands gently held your waist as his lips gently pressed into the soft skin of your neck. Your nails dug into the back of his uniform as you winced under his touch.

You carefully took in his scent, the feeling of his hands around your waist as they slowly–

“Could you grab me the syringe?” Lars requested, holding his hand out while his eyes remained fixated on the petri dish in front of him.

Your eyes shot up and you were immediately broken out of your trance. You quickly brushed away any thoughts regarding the wildly inappropriate fantasy as you quickly got up from your seat. Pulling your goggles down so they hung loosely around your neck, you quickly set down your marker and rummaged through the tool tray.

As the main parabiologist, Lars mainly took on the hands-on aspects of each project. He would directly manage and study the biology of any and all possessed objects you encountered, while you calculated the physics and math behind it. Your job consisted of serving as both a theoretical physicist as well as Lars’ apprentice. Both of which you didn’t mind, and quite enjoyed. Math was always your forte, and working with Lars was always enjoyable. You loved learning new things, especially from him.

Listening to him ramble on about science and how fascinating he thought it was with that same glint in his eyes as usual, there was something about how passionate he was about the paranormal that made him vastly different than any other scientist, or even any other person, that you knew of. He was sweet, had a delightfully dry sense of humor, not to mention easy on the eyes.

Hastily rushing through the tool tray, your fingers finally met the plastic surface of the syringe as you quickly placed it in his outstretched hand. Your fingers just barely brushed over one another’s, momentarily causing your breath to get caught in the pit of your throat.

As his eyes never left the microscope, he motioned for you to come closer. You quickly scurried beside him, the smell of his cologne being an all-too-familiar scent.

His fingers were curled around part of the microscope, the veins in his hands being strangely attractive as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. His lips were slightly parted, and his waist was notably narrow.

He stepped aside, “have a look through the microscope.”

You almost didn’t hear him with how good he looked at that moment, the lamplight highlighting his features as he looked back at you. It took you a few seconds to process his request, your eyes momentarily traveling down to his lips before you hastily nodded and positioned yourself in front of the microscope.

Lining your eye up with both of the lenses, you observed the spore-like objects in the petri dish.

“Just looks like regular fungus,” you commented.

“Give it a moment, now,” he replied, his eyes glued to you as he waited for your reaction.

A sudden purple, plasma-like substance seemed to shoot throughout the fungi, immediately sparking your interest. A small gasp escaped your lips as you quickly adjusted the zoom knob in an attempt to observe a larger area of the dish rather than the single, concentrated area.

“Fascinating…!” You whispered under your breath, craving to see more.

“That was paranormal energy. I collected it off of our latest subject. I wanted to see if the paranormal energy was concentrated down to the cellular level, and it seems we have our answer. Why it only travels in spurts rather than a constant wave is still a mystery, however. But I’m working on it,” Lars explained, laying a hand on your shoulder.

His touch immediately made you tense up as you bit the inside of your cheek.

“While you’re here, why don’t you take some of that serum I made the other day and try dropping it into the dish again?” Lars suggested, giving your shoulder a gentle pat.

You scoffed, “so it can explode in my face again? I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s all part of improving. You want to learn more about parabiology as my assistant, no?” he nudged you, pointing to the bottle of green serum.

Giving him a hesitant nod, pulling your goggles back up as you carefully reached for the serum, grabbing the pipet next to it. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, desperately hoping you wouldn’t create another huge mess like last time. While Lars didn’t seem too worried about it, part of you really wanted to impress him, to be someone he could admire in the same way he was to you.

You gulped, carefully measuring to make sure you had exactly one drop in the pipet before you dropped it into the petri dish. You could feel Lars’ eyes on you, and you weren’t sure if his presence was more comforting or nerve-racking.

Your hand trembled above the petri dish as you painstakingly held the pipet at just the correct distance. Like ripping off a band-aid, you finally squeezed the liquid out of the small tube, as the singular drop landed in the petri dish with a faint “ploop!” sound.

Prepared to back up and get a faceful of fungal matter, the substance in the petri dish only exhibited a small ‘poof!’ as a miniscule smoke cloud shortly followed.

Immediately, your face lit up as you quickly turned to Lars.

“I did it!” You celebrated, a big smile gracing your features.

“See, I knew you could do it.” Lars lightly smiled back at you, your eyes traveling back down to his lips again before you quickly looked away.

“I– uh, was there anything else you needed?” You quickly asked, praying to God he didn’t notice the subtle glances you’d take at him.

He seemed to think for a moment, “yes, actually. Could you please disinfect the syringe from earlier as well as this scalpel?” Lars asked, handing both of the tools to you.

“Yeah, yeah sure,” you stammered, quickly making your way down the hallway to the disinfecting station.

Letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in, you felt as though your knees could give out at any moment. Your hands were trembling and your face still warm, your infatuation with him was truly getting out of hand.

Turning on the water, you sprayed some of the sterilization liquid onto the scalpel first, carefully spreading it across its metallic surface.

This is getting out of hand. I can’t feel this way for him. We’re nothing more but coworkers. He’s my boss, I’m his assistant. Maybe even just an apprentice, at this point. But he’s just.. so…

No– no! How would he feel if he found out you were thinking about him in such a manner? He’d be disgusted! I’d need to find work elsewhere, no doubt. He’d never want to see me again! I really, really need to control–

“Ouch!” You winced, a small patch of red forming on your fingertip.

Looking down at the scalpel, then back at your finger, you realized that you accidentally nicked yourself while you were embarrassingly deep in thought about the man you were working under.

“(First Name)? Are you alright back there?” You heard Lars shout from the lab.

“Uh– yeah! Yeah, I’m fine! Sorry, I’ll be over in just a second!” You unconvincingly called back, rummaging through all the different cupboards looking for a pack of band-aids.

Lars took off his goggles, growing curious and a tad bit worried. It never took you this long just to sanitize used tools before, not to mention you sounded awfully suspicious just then.

You groaned, Lucky never reorganized the drawers after she used them, making it impossible to find the god forsaken box of bandaids. You could feel the blood dripping down your hand as you stood back up to search the upper cabinets.

“Damn it, Lucky,” you swore under your breath as you stood on your tippy toes, searching the very top of the cabinet.

“(First Name)?” Lars inquired, approaching you from behind.

Your head immediately shot towards him, stumbling back a bit. You hadn’t even noticed him approaching.

“Sorry, sorry. I don’t mean to take so long. I just accidentally nicked myself with the scalpel. But it's no big deal, I just can’t find where Lucky put the band-aids for the life of me,” you exasperatedly sighed, ripping open another drawer.

He sighed, taking a few steps closer. “Let me take a look,” Lars gently requested, holding one of his hands out.

“No– no, really it’s alright, you don’t have–”

“(First Name).”

You gulped at his stern tone, hesitantly holding your hand out for him to take.

He sighed, his thumb gently tracing your palm as he patted down the cut with a paper towel, soaking up all the excess blood. He slowly brought your hand up closer to his face, his eyes meticulously scanning the small cut. The feeling of his hand against yours made your face beet red all over again as you prayed he didn’t notice that you were trembling.

“Just, relax,” he reassured you, grabbing a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and pouring some of it onto a cotton ball.

“This is going to sting a bit, okay?” He braced you before he gently dabbed the ball of cotton onto the cut.

You winced, struggling not to pull back as he gently blew on the cut. He continued for a few seconds until the stinging finally subsided.

He held your hand by the wrist as he tossed the cotton ball into the trash can, grabbing a box of bandaids out of his pocket.

“You just carry band-aids around?”

“You can never be too prepared,” he shrugged. “Don’t touch any of my experiments, alright? We don’t want that cut getting infected with whatever germs those ghost-infested objects may carry.”

You nodded, following him back to the lab. His touch was comforting, too comforting. You liked him too much– way too much.

Stretching, you returned to your desk, mapping out any equations that needed to be solved. You sighed as you tried to keep a steady grip on your pen, the pressure on your fingertip causing it to ache.

“Where’d everyone go?” You inquire, looking around the empty room, leaving just you and Lars alone together.

“They left ages ago. It’s nearly midnight. Had you not realized?” Lars replied, taking a granola bar out of his desk.

Late nights weren’t uncommon with Lars. Going home early for either of you was amongst the rarest of sights to behold.

“No, I guess I must’ve lost track of time,” you replied, fighting to keep your eyes open.

He glanced back over to you, “you look tired, (First Name). Why don’t you head on home for the night? You deserve it.”

“No, no, I’m okay. I just need to finish up these last few equations and I’ll be on my way. Promise.”

Lars sighed, taking one last worried glimpse at you.

“Alright, but only because you promised,” he remarked before pulling his goggles back on.

Begrudgingly getting up out of your seat, you grabbed a marker and began solving the last equations up on your whiteboard. With a sigh and a hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you got to work.

The only sound breaking the deafening silence was the noise of your marker squeaking against the white board along with the occasional yawn from either of you.

But it was just so hard to focus.

The way he so carefully held your hand to tend to your cut, he didn’t have to, but he did. He was gentle with you, and sweet. At this point, you were almost certain your feelings for him stretched beyond just the point of infatuation. Far past the point of just infatuation.

The countless times you’d spaced out during a project thinking about him was awfully embarrassing, and frankly you don’t know how no one around you noticed. Or even how he hadn’t noticed, for that matter. But you weren’t complaining in the slightest. He’s your boss, you can’t imagine how disgusted he would be if he ever found out how you truly felt about him.

“(First Name)? You alright over there?” Lars inquired, looking up at you from his station.

“Yeah-! Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, confusion lacing your voice.

“You’ve been staring at the whiteboard for the past 5 minutes,” he added, taking his goggles off from around his neck.

Shit.

You felt your face grow hot with embarrassment as you quickly turned back around to face the whiteboard.

“I’m alright! No need to worry!” You stammered.

You could just barely hear the sound of Lars’ boots tapping against the floor behind you as you tried as hard as you could to solve the next part of the equation. But it was like your mind blew a fuse and you couldn’t think at all, even the skills required for basic arithmetic escaped you.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, his hand finding its way to your shoulder.

You couldn't find the words to respond, like you were in suspended animation. You stood frozen, marker in hand and eyes glued to the whiteboard.

“(First Name),” he paused, “you’ve been acting differently for a long while now. And I.. have a theory.”

You hesitantly turned to face him, setting your marker aside.

“Oh– it’s just– it’s nothing, really!” you stammered, hoping to come up with something coherent until your rambling was quickly interrupted by the feeling of Lars’ tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he murmured as his thumb gently traced along your jawline.

What is happening!? Does he really feel the same way? No, I must’ve fallen asleep at my desk after he helped me with my cut! Does this mean I’m lucid dreaming? But this dream feels awfully realistic. There’s no way..!

“L-Lars..?” you murmured, just barely above a whisper.

“It appears my hypothesis was correct,” he replied, his eyes studying you.

This isn’t real. I’m asleep, I’m dreaming, I have to be!

His thumb traced along your chin, then gently traced along your bottom lip.

“I hypothesize,” his eyes traveled down to your lips, “that you, (First Name), have feelings for me.”

What a realistic dream. Okay, I’ll bite.

“And if I do?”

His expression quickly changed to a bit of surprise, you were almost never this forward.

“You’re feeling awfully bold right now,” he commented.

“Awfully. I’m surprised I haven’t woken up yet,” you mumbled to yourself.

He quickly pulled back, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“What?” He asked, his head tilting.

You paused for a moment until it finally dawned on you.

“Holy shit– holy shit, this is real,” a hand slapped over your mouth as you felt your face burn in pure embarrassment.

You were just about ready to dig yourself a hole under a rock and live there for the rest of your life.

“You’ve been dreaming about me?” Lars inquired, an all-too-familiar smirk appearing on his face.

You grumbled into your hands, not daring to look at him.

He chuckled a bit, “there’s no need to be embarrassed now, is there? I’m sure you’ve already figured out by now that I feel the same way.” He gently pried your hands off of your face.

You stared down at the floor, your heart beating out of your chest as he carefully pulled you closer.

He gently pushed your chin upwards, “look at me, (First Name).”

You gulped, your eyes darting around the room before finally landing on Lars’ eyes.

“Would– would it be alright if I kissed you?” He asked, his face ever so slightly heating up at the request.

You’re not sure what came over you, but you didn’t even give it a second thought before you quickly thrust your lips into his. He stumbled backwards a bit, but quickly steadied himself as his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

A groan escaped his lips as he melted into you, one of his hands gently tugging on the back of your hair. You both pulled away just for a split second for air before you quickly enveloped each other in another kiss. All the pent up desire you had for him seemed to flow out of you, every inch of him taking over your senses.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he grumbled, planting a chaste kiss just below your ear.

You whimpered at the contact. The feeling of him kissing your neck was better than you could’ve ever imagined. Your fingers intertwined with his soft curls, gently tugging on them, eliciting a low groan from the significantly taller man. Each kiss sent a shiver down your spine, hitting you directly in your core.

He quickly pulled away, his breathing was heavy and his cheeks were flushed.

“We.. we should stop. I’d– I’d like to take you out first. At least before we do.. anything,” he explained, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

Your neck felt cold without his touch, but you agreed anyway. A small smile graced your lips as you looked back up at him.

“I’d love that,” you stood up on your tippy toes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Tomorrow, 8 o’ clock? I’ll pick you up,” he added, one of his hands resting on the base of your neck.

You beamed, “I would love that.”

#lars pinfield x reader #lars pinfield #ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert

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ilovetheriddler · 3 months ago

Note

nsfw alphabets for lars and egon if you’re open to it?

You hit me with the three in a row request combo! Goodness! Thank you so much for the requests! I'm very happy that you separated them, though. It makes it a bit easier for me when writing them, so thank you! I hope you enjoy it!

🔞🔞🔞NSFW 18+

Egon Spengler & Lars Pinfield NSFW Alphabets.

A: Aftercare (what's involved in their Aftercare?)

Lars - He usually takes a few minutes to catch his breath, then he'll ask if you're okay and if you enjoyed it. He'll also get up after a bit to get a wet towel to help clean you off a bit.

Egon - He's immediately readjusting his glasses and taking notes on the experience so he can compare it to the last time and the next later on. He brings you some water so you don't get dehydrated.

B: Body Parts (What do they consider their best feature, and what's their favorite of yours?)

Lars - He actually very much likes his hair, how fluffy and soft it is, he especially loves it when you mindlessly run your fingers through it. With you? It's your neck, He can easily feel your pulse racing when he leaves kisses and bites there, and that always gets him going.

Egon - He's never really thought much about himself in that regard. Perhaps his hands if he had to choose, he believes his hands are quite nice. Your eyes, He loves how vibrant they are. They make him feel at peace even outside of intimacy.

C: Cum (How fast do they Cum/Where do they Cum?)

Lars - He cums a bit faster than he'd like in all honesty. He's also not too big of a fan of cuming all over you. It's a tad too messy for his preference. However, if you really wanted him to, then he'd consider it.

Egon - This man lasts way too long for comfort. It kind of worries you in a way. He doesn't really have a preference when it comes to where he cums, whatever you want in the moment is usually fine with him.

D: Drive (What’s their overall Sex drive like?)

Lars - It's about average. However, if he's been away from you for a long period of time, then he's a lot more needy when he sees you again.

Egon - it's a bit below average. It takes a lot for him to really get in the mood to do anything too intimate. But when he's in the mood, he's really in it.

E: Experience (How much experience do they have?)

Lars - Not a lot! He hasn't been in many relationships before, so he's not too experienced. But he'll try his hardest to figure out what pleases you the most.

Egon - Surprisingly decently experienced! Not in actual practice, though. He's done a lot of research into intimacy, and all the different methods he could potentially try that could please you.

F: Favorite Position

Lars - He's a very big fan of Missionary, what can he say? He's a simplistic guy. However, he also quite enjoys it when you ride him.

Egon - He doesn't have a preferred one particularly. He's more interested in experimenting and figure out whatever one ultimately brings you both the most pleasure overall.

G: Goodness! (Are they more bashful or confident when it comes to intimacy?)

Lars - he can be a bit bashful at first. He's mainly just nervous. But once you reassure him some, then he'll eventually be a bit more confident in what he's doing.

Egon - He's a bit nervous. However, he's also confident in his research and positive that he knows just how to please you.

H: Hair (How well groomed are they?)

Lars - He's very well groomed and keeps his pubic hair trimmed nicely. He doesn't particularly like the overall feeling of when it gets too hairy for his liking, so he tries to make sure that it doesn't get like that.

Egon - He's decently well kept in that regard. He trims it every so often, but not too often. But it's not really something that he puts too much thought into.

I: Intimacy (How romantic are they during it?)

Lars - Extremely Romantic, the definition of showering you in praise and affection. He'll repeatedly tell you how good you feel, how much he loves you, how wonderful you are, and so on.

Egon - He's also fairly romantic but not so much with words during it and more with subtle actions. Such as caressing your hair reassuringly or softly kissing your jaw.

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get?)

Lars - He occasionally gets jealous. He knows that you love him and don't intend to leave him, but he can't help it sometimes.

Egon - No? Why would he be jealous? It doesn't matter if someone else tries to flirt with you. You always turn them down because you're with him. You're extremely faithful to him, so why would he waste useful time worrying?

K: Kinks (What are some of their Kinks?)

Lars - He doesn't exactly consider himself too kinky of a man. He enjoys the idea of handcuffing you, perhaps blindfolding you as well. He has a Praise Kink, both giving and receiving Praise. He loves it.

Egon - Role-playing, specifically where he gets to be a doctor or a scientist or just a researcher in general. Also, he really enjoys being called Sir during it.

L: Location (What’s their favorite place to get it on?)

Lars - The bed, he prefers the comfort and safety of his bed when the two of you are getting intimate together, but he also enjoys getting to have you in the shower as well.

Egon - He wouldn't really say that he's dead set on one specific space. The Bed? Fine. The Shower? Also good. His lab? Absolutely!

M: Masturbation (just anything to with it)

Lars - as mentioned earlier, he doesn't really like unnecessary messes. So if he does feel the need to indulge himself in such a way, then it'll be in the shower. That way, the mess is more reasonable.

Egon - He's doesn't really think much about it. If he feels the urge, then he usually just asks you to have sex with him. However, there have been a few times before, but they're very far and few in-between.

N: Nope! (What turns them off?)

Lars- Please stop asking him to have sex in a haunted house! He won't do it! That and anything that might possibly hurt you, because he can't bear the thought of accidentally hurting you.

Egon - Phone sex, it just doesn't do anything for him. He'd much rather just wait until whenever he was able to see you in person again.

O: Oral (Their preference for giving and receiving it)

Lars - He's tries really hard when giving. He'll do his best! But like everything else, sometimes he gets a bit carried away and might start eating you out like a starving man, not that you're complaining. On the other hand, he always gets really flustered when you offer to give, I mean, who would he be to refuse such a thoughtful offer?

Egon - The level of thought and care that this man puts into giving oral is frankly terrifying. He's done a ton of research into it, and it's paying off massively. In terms of receiving... he's not a big fan of it, but if it's something that you really want to do for him... then he might let you on occasion.

P: Pace (Are they faster or slower? Something in-between?)

Lars - He tries really hard to be sweet and gentle, but sometimes he gets too caught up in it and ends up practically railing you senseless. He also feels really guilty afterward, even with your reassurance that you really enjoyed it.

Egon - Slow and methodical. He's taking his time, and he's going to savor the moment, memorize every gasp, moan, and whine that escapes your lips. Every expression that graces your face.

Q: Quickies (What are their thoughts on it? Are they into it?)

Lars - He's only into it if you're the one initiating it, It personally kind of stokes his pride a bit that you can't wait to be with him.

Egon - No, he's not fond of the idea. As mentioned earlier, he prefers to savor his time with you. He'll just wait until you both have time for him to properly enjoy you like he wants to.

R: Reprieve (How much energy do they have? How many rounds could they go?)

Lars - Only once, maybe twice if he's pushing it. He tends to get caught up and passionate, and that really tires him out.

Egon - easily two, three times occasionally. Mainly because he's incredibly good at taking it slow and pacing himself, so he doesn't get tired out too easily.

S: Sexual Fantasies (Do they ever had Sexual Fantasies and if so, what of?)

Lars - He doesn't have many, but there is one that he's fond of. He thinks it's a bit ridiculous, so he'll never mention it to you, but he likes the idea of role playing that you're some type of royalty, and he's the hero that saves you, and then things would escalate from there and well....

Egon - He's put some genuine thought into the idea of what it would be like to have sex with you in a supposedly haunted house. It would be the ideal killing two birds with one stone, he'd get to enjoy some time with you and he'd be able to find out if the location is actually haunted or if it's just speculation.

T: Turn Ons (What turns them on?)

Lars - You listening to him ramble on about ghosts, and his work is a huge turn-on for him, as well as you wearing his clothes, that drives him wild.

Egon - whenever you run your fingers through his hair when he's telling you about what he's working on, he loves it.

U: Unfairness (How much do they like to tease you in bed?)

Lars - he's not much of a tease, he can't do it, he gets too caught up himself most of the time to even amuse such an idea! But outside of the actual act itself? He'll tease and mess with you whenever he gets the chance!

Egon - occasionally, he'll stop mid thrust to reach over and grab his notepad and act as if he's looking over his notes, because he loves to feel you squirm and hear your voice begging him to please keep going, in that cute frustrated tone of yours.

V: Volume (How vocal and loud are they in bed?)

Lars - Not even a noise machine could drown out the moans, whines, whimpers of Lars Pinfield. He's extremely loud, to be fair, with the way he is in bed, both of you normally are really loud. Your neighbors aren't fond of you as a result.

Egon - He's not too loud, but he is vocal. Usually, with soft groans and moans, and the occasionally stiffled whine. But he prefers to try and not make too much noise himself. He'd much rather hear you.

W: Wild Card (A random headcanon)

Lars - He sometimes stares at you afterward once you've gone to sleep. Not in a creepy way, just more so making sure you're fully okay before he falls asleep, it comforts him.

Egon - He's very insistent on keeping his glasses on during sex. Have they hit you in the face a few times from falling off? Yes, yes, they have.

X: X Ray (What’s going on underneath all of those clothes?)

Lars - About Six Inches, overall a very nice size, Girth is about average as well, maybe a tad bit above it, but not by much.

Egon - About Five Inches, But is a decent amount girther than average, good grief!

Y: Yours (Do they ever get possessive in the heat of the moment?)

Lars - Listen... sometimes, he gets caught up in the moment and can't help but repeatedly tell you that you're his and that's he's yours in-between needy and broken moans and whines.

Egon - He's pretty good with not getting too lost in the heat of the moment. Normally, he'd never say anything too possessive, but on occasion, after you're done, he might mutter into your ear how glad he is to know that you're his and only his, but that's only when he's already fairly exhausted.

Z: Zzz... (How quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?)

Lars - The moment Aftercare is taken care of, he's out like a light! Snuggled up by your side, arms wrapped around you in an iron like grasp!

Egon - He'll sleep once he's done with his notes. Yes, he takes notes after every time the two of you have sex. He likes to keep track of what seems most pleasurable for you. Afterward, though, He'll lay awake for a while talking to you.

#ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters #egon spengler #lars pinfield #lars pinfield x reader #egon spengler x reader

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thestralluvr · 8 months ago

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Lars Pinfield x reader headcanons part 1

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

- he’d have the usual socials like tiktok, insta and all that but his only post is a picture of you that you absolutely hate and his following is just his friends, family and famous cats.

- he probably has another instagram account for his cat basil, a chunky tabby who he adores with his whole heart.

- taps on the possessors enclosure (the possessor taps back it’s like a weird little high five) before he leaves and at this point it’s become an instinct.

- his work space is definitely an organised mess, you’ve got no clue how his system works but he surely has one.

- you guys definitely get takeaway at LEAST once a week (especially on a friday).

- claims he doesn’t know how to flirt yet every single word that comes from his mouth leaves you BLUSHING.

- he’d never admit it to anyone but he secretly loves reality tv 😭 it has him hooked and it’s one of his favourite parts of the day when he can just unwind with you and watch shitty television.

- this man just adores you, you’ll catch him just admiring your features like you’d hung the moon and stars.

- i feel like he’s a decent cook but a terrible baker, he never fails to set off the fire alarms.

- one morning he’d tried to surprise you for your anniversary by baking you a lovely breakfast.

- it ended with the pair of you standing on the front lawn in your pyjamas waiting for the fire brigade.

- baking is now left for you and uber eats.

- this man had a hipster tumblr phase i just know it and you take every opportunity you can get to tease him on it 😭.

- i’d imagine his favourite bands would be stuff like the kinks, tears for fears, the smiths, talking heads, soft cell etc. (he’s a music nerd).

- he loves gloomy rainy days, 1 because it reminds him of his home town, 2 because it’s the PERFECTTTTT weather to snuggle under blankets with you (his favourite activity).

- maybe has a few tiny tattoos that only you’ve seen besides one.

- one night the two of you went out with a few coworkers (much to lars’ annoyance) so what better to do than take the opportunity to get pissed? makes the boring conversations less boring right?

- anyway let’s just say it was an eventful night as you’d both woken up with the wonkiest matching ghost tattoos on your wrists.

- the pair of you weren’t exactly ecstatic to find your drunken decision but hey, they didn’t get covered up. besides, it makes you think of him whenever you see it so it can’t be that bad.

- he has a tendency to run his thumb over your little ghost whenever you’re holding hands or cuddling, it’s very sweet.

- you take turns being the big and little spoon every night but basil is always the tiny spoon.

- he’s a little touch starved so he never ever takes any little touch, kiss, and caress for granted.

- speaking of kisses, ALLLLL THE KISSES!!! forehead! head! hand! eskimo! cheek! neck! this man is just so lucky to be able to kiss you he never wants to stop oml i could cry he’s just the sweetest.

- basil definitely gets many kisses too she’s very spoilt.

i hope this was decent, my first time writing for this lovely man so i hope i did okay!! lmk if you want anything in particular for the following parts through my asks or comments!! <3

#ghostbusters #ghostbusters frozen empire #lars pinfield #james acaster #lars pinfield x reader #lars pinfield imagine #headcanons #lars pinfield headcanons #hc #lars pinfield headcanon #frozen empire

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grcetxt · 9 months ago

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Fuck it we ball fanfic time. Gn reader x lars pinfield WOO

Okay WOO lmk if this is shit or ooc or anything, but im pretty happy with how this went :D its a little rushed, might redo it in the future idk. Also i made Y/N bit too much like me (northern) so watch out for that american readers SORRYYY. anwyays enjoy!

I am smart.

No don't laugh, I am, genuinely I am.

Maybe not in the way that others deem important, maybe not in the traditional sense, but I am bright.

Pinfield doesn't think so, the prick.

Every day I come into work, all smiling and welcoming, and what do I get in return? A roll of the eyes if I'm lucky.

Dickhead.

But I don't let him get to me, I love my job. My boss is chill, I love hanging out with Lucky, and the Spenglers seem nice! It's a good gig, really.

I'm the "PR guy" for Ghost Corps. Every time they fuck up and destroy a building or whatever I'm the one who covers it up. I'm a real smooth talker, 'gift of the gab' my mum used to call it.

The team needs me, I know that, they know that. Im crucial to the whole operation, the sole reason why that whiny mayor dude hasnt shut them down.

I'm the one who goes to press interviews, who goes on the radio or on TV. I'm the social media manager, I make videos, and post tweets, fuck I've even started a Ghostbusters youtube account! I deserve a raise honestly. #justiceforY/NthePRguy

I get on with everyone at work except for Pinfield, and I genuinely dont know why.

I've tried getting him to feature in videos, or explain the science of stuff to me so I can actually seem like I know what I'm talking about- but he just brushes me off.

Gary tries to reassure me about this on a daily basis. "Its nothing to do with you Y/N" he smiled one day, putting a hand on my shoulder and guiding me away from the busy scientist. "He doesnt really talk to anyone, he gets really passionate about his work"

"I get that, but there's no need for him to be a dick to me, he's got me thinking all kinds of shit honestly!" I replied, exhasperated "I've never done nowt to him"

Suddenly, Pinfield raised his head from his work, scrunching his eyebrows together. "thats a double negative" he commented, looking at me as if I was stupid. Great, It's the most he's ever spoken to me and its a fucking insult- atleast I think it is.

"you what?" I ask, making my way over to him despite Garys protests. I fold my arms, looking as menacing as i can (which ive been told isn't very menacing at all)

"I said its a double negative, if you've never done nothing then you must've done something" before I can reply, he adds onto the end "which you haven't, by the way. I dont know why you think that. I treat you the same as anyone else"

I can't explain why his answer bothers me so much, but it does. Why does he view me in the same way he views the others? That's hardly fair. I'm always welcoming to him, I make time out of my day to include him in things. I hate to admit it, but I genuinely admire him aswell. His love for all things paranormal, the way he gets so excited and proud when he gets to explain the science of ghost-catching to someone. It's oddly endearing.

I tell him as much (excpet for the stuff about him being endearing, he doenst need his ego inflated any more than it already is)

He looks confused, I've never seen him look like that- its weird. Arrogant? sure. Annoyed? when is he not bffr. Happy? Once or twice. But confused? Weird. This is the guy with all the answers, the smart one.

He thinks for a moment, before seemingly making a desision. He stands up with a small huff of exhasperation, and walks off.

As he goes past me, he grabs my arm, more gently than I thought he was capable of. Okay, i guess im coming too. Fun, roadtrip time.

He takes me out of the lab and down the corridor, into a relatively well lit small room.

"Well this is-" before i can speak properly, he cuts me off. Told you he was a prick.

"I dont understand you Y/N" he blurts out, looking at me, as if I'm some sort of specimin hes studying in the lab.

"Well good." I joke. I dont like the serious tone he's taking. Dont like how aware I am of his gaze. HATE the fact I can feel my cheeks burning. Gross. Pinfield is a dick, we've established this. Why the fuck am I BLUSHING because he's LOOKING at me? Bit embarassing, pull it together Y/LN.

He doenst like this though. He shakes his head, pacing around.

"No Y/N you dont get it. I understand everyone, sort of anyways. I've observed them, I can predict their reactions to things. I know what they're all like- but you're... I just dont understand! You're so happy and nice all the time, but you also get angry at stupid stuff, but never really properly angry? I cant make sense of it, genuinely. You've not done anything wrong, you can't do anything wrong. Thats frustrating too. It's like you're this perfect, beautiful person, and I've been trying to see flaws but I cant-" He rambles, speaking like hes just letting out one stream of constant thoughts. He seems stressed, poor guy.

I interupt him, grabbing his arm. "Hey, c'mon Pinfi- I- Lars. C'mon Lars. I'm not worth the stress mate" I try and reassure him, but that just agitates him more.

"See! That's just it! I've been horrible to you, I admit it. But you've kept trying with me! When I hurt my hand you were the one who bandaged it and put it in a sling"

(i had found him almost blacked out from the pain on the lab floor, even the memory of it sent a shiver down my spine)

"you were the only one that looked for me after we all nearly died fighting Garraka"

("Pinfield? Pinfield!? Oh my god, there you are! Thank fuck you're alright!" Okay maybe this tiny non-crush had been going on longer than i thought... christ)

"I dont like the thought of you hurt..." i muttered, embarrased. this definitely wasnt how i was expecting this conversation to go, fuck my life I was crushing on a nerdy scientist who defintely didn't like me back.

He stopped his pacing and walked over to me until the gap between us was non existant. He slowly, hesitantly, lifted his hand until he cupped my cheek.

"I don't like the thought of you upset because of me" he muttered, his voice low.

My heart completely stopped, my breath caught in my throat, was this happening? how was this happening? i swear this guy was like my mortal enemy not even 5 minutes ago. so many revelations were bieng made today...

I decided to be bold, why not? fuck it, i've got nothing to loose at this point.

I leaned in so our noses just grazed eachother, looking at him, really genuinely looking at him. his soft blue eyes that seemed to peer into my soul. Not pierce through it, like some weird blue eyed fuckers i knew, but looked. gently, tenderly, as if he was looking at everything i ever had been, or would be. like i was something beautiful, something to be treaured.

It made me want to sob at the thought. god, how disgustingly sweet.

"make up for it then" i whispered, the tension so thick i could cut it with a knife.

I'd planned on being the one to make the forst move, but apparently, that was all that Lars needed.

He kissed me. His soft lips pressed against mine, sotfly, tenderly, tentatively.

I could feel the anxiety radiating off of him, so i quickly reciprocated. More eagerly than i owuldve liked- but oh well.

I could feel his hand resting on my waist, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. It all felt so tender, so raw, not at all how i thought it would be.

I felt like a teenager again, and couldnt resist letting out a small giggle, making Lars pull away. He looked confused again, making me laugh once again.

"What?" he aksed, a sort of amused smile on his face.

"Nothing- sorry. Nothing at all. Just thinking of how fuming mums gonna be when i tell her ive got a posho for a boyfriend"

"I am NOT posh!"

"you are a littleee"

"I AM NO- wait- boyfriend?"

"oh shit didnt mean to say that bi-"

he cut me off with another kiss, this one much more confident.

It felt like a million fireworks were going off in my head, oh I could definetly get used to this feeling. This war, sweet, happy feeling. My senses were flooded with everything Lars. His taste, his smell, his touch.

I felt like I was learning to live again.

#AAAA #lars pinfield #james acaster #fanfic #ghostbusters frozen empire #lars pinfield x reader #gn reader #should prolly add more tags but its 2 am im tired #nightnight everyone #lmk what you think

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writing-with-yours-truly · 1 month ago

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"You Said You Don't Dance." Lars Pinfield [Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire] x Reader

Warnings: Swearing?

Additional information: Inspired lightly, Pheobe is head cannoned to wear a tux (she'd slay one fr)

Requested by: @centracks (lysm)

Tonight is the night of a big gala hosted by none other than Mayor Peck himself. After the whole saving the world thing, Peck was pretty much forced to like the Ghostbusters or face a loss in the next mayoral election.

Unfortunatley, you're being made to go to this gala, against your wishes.

You're sitting at your bench, fixing up a random gadget you found lying around when Winston, your boss, approached you.

"You are invited to the annual New York Mayoral Gala," He said. You looked up. "Why?"

"Well, Mayor Peck invited us since we had saved the city. The world, in fact."

"He was the one who wanted us to be shut down. Why would we go?" You asked. You thought it was messed up, using the Ghostbusters as if they were pawns in a political game.

"Mayor Peck made an agreement on if we went to this gala, we would be allowed to run operations normally in New York."

You thought for a moment before giving a response. "I guess that's smart."

"Well, the gala is on Friday night, so you will have the night completely off." Winston reaches into his pocket. When he pulls his hand back out, he has a ticket in his hand. He handed it to you. "That is your gala ticket. You will use it to get in."

He begins to make his way out, before turning around to face you one last time. "Dress formal. This is a gala, after all!"

You had your phone on your desk, playing music as you finish getting ready for the gala. You had your hair neatly up in an updo, as you wore a black sleeveless dress with a thigh high slit on the side. (feel free to change this if you would like <3)

You finished your makeup, which was a simple yet elegant look, and made your way out the door after a final look in the mirror.

You looked at how the dress defined your curves, smiling because the dress made you feel beautiful. You began to wonder if Lars was going to go.

Lars was a keep-to-himself person and you'd be surprised if he even listened to Winston. Only time would tell if he'd be there.

You got out of your car after parking. You looked at your reflection in your car window and made any final touch ups to your hair. Cautiously, you made your way to the entrance of the gala. Many famous people were shuffling into the gala. This really was a high expectation event.

Eventually, it was your turn to show your ticket. Once the ticket master read the name on the ticket, he gave you a weird look. Your eyebrows furrowed. "Enjoy the gala, ma'am," he said dryly, shoving the ticket back into your open hand. You shook your head plainly as you walked down the hall into the ballroom.

It looked amazing. There were string lights hung up to the center of the room, outstretching to each corner. They illuminated the room dimly, reflecting slightly off of the freshly waxed wood floor. Tables with dark blue cloth were placed neatly besides in front of the stage to make space for dancing -which people were already doing-. You smiled as you looked around, already spotting Phoebe in a fancy tuxedo in the back of the room.

You pushed through people to make your way towards Phoebe, waving to her. She stopped her conversation with Lucky -who looked equally beautiful-, and waved back. You reached the two and gave them individual hugs. "You both look amazing!" The swarm of compliments they gave to you in response was almost overwhelming. "So," Phoebe started. "Have you seen him yet?"

Your cheeks immediately flushed red. "No, I haven't. Have you?"

"He was just in here a few minutes ago. Saw him walking over to the drinks," Lucky answered. "You should go see him."

Phoebe added, "He'd love that."

"Oh, stop guys."

After a few minutes of convincing, you made your way towards the drinks by yourself. You noticed a figure standing over there alone with a drink in his hand. If that was Lars, by God he looked amazing.

Once you got closer, you came to the conclusion it was Lars. "Why aren't you out there?" You asked him, causing him to jump slightly.

Once he realized it was you, he exhaled. "I don't dance."

"Didn't think so," You responded jokingly. "Don't take you as the dancin' type."

"Why? Too uptight?" He asked between gritted teeth.

You hesitated to respond. "No offence and all, but yeah."

"None taken. You're nicer about it than Trevor and Lucky." He answered.

The two of you stood in silence before noticing Mayor Peck. "Oh look, it's Dickless." You grumbled.

Lars called your name as if to tell you not to call him that. "What? He's so full of himself it's not even funny."

You proceed to take a sip of your wine, rolling your eyes as he walked past the Golden Trio -Ray, Peter, and Winston- without so much as a hand shake. The three look amongst eachother as if they were thinking the same thing. What a selfish prick.

Peck made his way on stage. Once everyone settled down, he began his speech.

"Welcome to the 112th annual Mayoral Gala! I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for making time to come to this event."

"More like Winston made time for us to come-" Lars cupped a hand over your mouth to shut you up.

"I also want to extend a heartfelt welcome to the Ghostbusters. Thank you for saving New York from that terrible monster."

Peck said Ghostbusters as if it was a disease no one wanted to catch. You moved Lars' hand off of your face -his hand was very warm- to show your face of disbelief. You looked at Lars, who had a similar look on his face.

As the mayor finished his speech, Lars leaned over to your ear and you swore your temperature rose at least three degrees. "Are you meaning to have my hand in your grasp?" He asked in a hushed tone.

You immediatley dropped it, rushing an apology. "No, no. It's fine. Your hand was kind of...warm." You laughed quietly in response.

"Lars Pinfield, are you attempting to flirt with me?" You joked. He didn't respond, but the ghost of a smile appeared on his pale face. "Take me to dinner first, jeez." You added.

The mayor stepped off the stage, applause following. You, Lars, and presumely the rest of GhostCorps, did not join the applause.

The music resumed, and the two of you started chatting. About work, anything really.

In the middle of a conversation about the Possessor, "Enchanted" by Taylor Swift started to play.

Couples began to step onto the center of the dance floor to slow dance.

You watched on in awe, wishing that was you, and Lars was the one slow dancing with you.

You didn't even realize his hand was extended out until he cleared his throat. You looked at his hand as if you couldn't believe your eyes. "You said you don't dance," You said.

"Well, I saw how you were looking at them dancing, so I thought I'd make an exception. Just this once."

You resisted the urge to squeal like a little girl and kick your feet.

You then took his hand and he led you to the dance floor. "Confession. I've never danced before," You said to him as the two of you stood across from eachother.

"Neither have I," He replied, an eyebrow raised in amusement. His glasses slid a little bit down his nose and you resisted the urge to fix them. God, he was so cute.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he wrapped his around your waist. The two of you swayed back in forth, Lars occasionally adjusting his hold on your hips. "So, what made you have an exception for me?" You asked him, turning your head to the left to see Phoebe motioning you to move closer, and you did so, adjusting how your hands rested around his neck. He didn't seem to mind.

"I just saw the sparkle in your eyes. You wanted to dance and I could tell. Maybe not with me, but--"

"Lars, I've wanted a dance with you for a long time." You interrupted. "Trust me, I've dreamt about this, believe it or not."

"Well, that's flattering," he replied. "And I'm glad you feel that way. Honestly, I have, too."

"Really?"

"Of course. Who couldn't love you?"

She laughed lightly.

"I'm not kidding. You're amazing, you're smart, you're beautiful--"

You pressed a kiss on his cheek to shut him up. When you pulled back, his face was furiously red.

"And you are, too." You grinned.

His eyes trailed down to your lips and back to your eyes, lips parted slightly. You inched closer, eyes shutting slightly. Eventually, Lars filled the gap, lips meeting yours.

Your lips moved in sync as the two of you relished the moment.

Eventually the two of you pulled back, looking into each other's eyes.

"Wow, Pinfield. I could get used to that."

#Ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters #lars pinfield x reader #lars pinfield #request #I honestly love this one #thanks for the request <3 #inspired fic #x reader

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mazingmarissa23 · 8 months ago

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To the Lars Pinfield writers, keep doing what you’re doing because I am eating this shit up. God bless y’all 💋

#lars pinfield #james acaster #lars pinfield x reader

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algea · 9 months ago

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you guys are getting fed this week VERY well (this is my favorite edit I’ve made)

FOLLOW MY EDIT ACCOUNT @https.algea ON TIKTOKIF YOU WANT MORE LARS AND JAMES CONTENT 😛😛

@jesssuperwholock03

#lars pinfield x reader #lars pinfield #lars pinfield x you #ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters #james acaster

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foxaftershocks · 7 months ago

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I just wanted to say I absolutely adore how you write Lars. I can perfectly imagine him in my head and it’s spot on. Please just keep writing all the Lars ❤️

I had an idea where the reader works at the lab with Lars. She has a crush on him but thinks he doesn’t like her but it’s more so because she makes him nervous and he doesn’t know how to act around her.

Winston sends them out to another borough (Queens, Brooklyn, etc) to collect an item he wants to extract or study and they could either get stranded and have to spend the night somewhere or come into some danger and finally confess their feelings? Maybe a bit of angst or jealousy followed by fluff. Thank you! 🥰

Here you go! It's got some jealousy, its got the one bed trope, it's got yearning and pining, and it's super long. I hope you like it.

“Seriously, he hates me,” you said.

Lucky shook her head, aiming the crossbow at the target. Her smile was secretive and you couldn’t unpack it without her thoughts being voiced. You kicked your legs as you watched, hands trapped under your thighs, waiting for the thunk of the bolt hitting the target. You offered a high five for the bullseye.

“He doesn’t,” Lucky said, “hate you, that is.”

“He’s always so… mean,” you said, trying to come up with the right words.

“He’s mean to everyone. If anything, that means he likes you,” she replied.

“He glares at me,” you said.

“I think that’s just his face.”

“Okay, well, when I enter a room he walks out of it pretty quickly and I always get the feeling it’s because of me. Like he can’t even stand to be in the same room as me,” you said, feet kicking harder as you thought about it.

Just that morning you’d been busy making a coffee in the tiny kitchenette you’d petitioned Winston to invest in. When you’d turned around, slowly mixing the mixture with a teaspoon, you’d looked up to find Lars standing just behind you, looking at you with furrowed brow and harsh glare. Instead of saying anything to you, he spun on his heels and stalked away, leaving you with a bad taste in your mouth.

You had plenty of other examples and each one left you sure that he wanted you to leave the lab and never return.

“Well, that could be anything,” she said, “maybe he just remembers something he has to do. Nothing to do with you at all.”

“Right,” you snorted, “sure.”

You watched her sink another bolt into the target, trying to work out what Lars’ problem was. You were always polite, always nice, sometimes a little too nice, and had never done anything to him. Maybe he’d realised that you had the tiniest crush on him and felt so offended by that he had to be cruel.

And what did it say about you that you still had that tiny, really not very significant at all, minuscule crush on him?

“Gee, I sure hope I don’t pay people to sit around and not do work all day.”

You startled, looking up into the face of Winston. Guilt curled around your heart, stomach sinking as you stared at him. He waited a moment, staring at you.

“We were just…” you trailed off, trying to find some excuse.

“Bouncing ideas off each other,” Lucky said, “while weapons testing.”

A small smile flicked the corners of his mouth up and you relaxed. It wasn’t often Winston got upset with you. In fact, you weren’t sure you’d seen him get upset with you. Stern, sure, but not upset. So his small smile set you at ease.

“Lucky for you I have an assignment for you,” he said, “come on, we have something to pick up.”

You trailed behind him, a bounce in your step. You’d been stuck in the lab for too long, working on calculations and data input. Getting to stretch your legs and go out into the world was exciting.

Until you saw who’s station Winston was leading you to.

“Pinfield, I’ve found you a partner,” he said.

Lars looked up, brightening until he saw you standing there, shifting your weight between your feet. A storm flew over his face, a glower levelled in your direction.

“Absolutely not,” he said.

“Play nice. It’s out in Brooklyn so it’s gone take you most of the day. Miss Hathaway has a trunk we’re interested in procuring. Retrieve it and bring it back here. She’s expecting you,” he said.

“No way,” Lars said.

“You’ll do it or you’ll be on gunk duty,” he said, “until summer.”

His face drained of whatever colour there might have been left. He stood abruptly, the screech of the stool on the floor harsh on the ears.

“You can’t be serious,” he said.

“As the plague,” Winston replied, “do it, Pinfield. It’ll only be a few hours.”

“I won’t even bite,” you said, speaking before your thoughts could catch up.

Winston’s chuckle as he clapped your shoulder only brought heat to your cheeks. Lars wasn’t even looking at you. Cursing internally, you feared you might have just made it worse.

“See? She’ll play nice with you,” Winston said, giving you a little shove in his direction, “van is waiting out back.”

He trudged off, not even bothering to see if you were following. His shoulders were tense and you could faintly hear him muttering to himself, no doubt cursing your very existence. Hours with him as you trekked out to Brooklyn on a fetch mission were shaping up to be a very specific form of torture.

He pushed the door open, letting in overcast sunlight. The air was cold, far too cold, and you shivered, curling your arms around your body as you stepped outside. The depths of December was not the time to be giving yourself over to the elements. Sliding in the van beside him, you ignored the curl of his upper lip as you directed the air vents towards you, flicking on the heat.

The roads were busy, people trying to beat the usual Friday holiday rush. Leaning back in your seat, you turned your gaze to the window, people watching as best you could in the stop start motion. It didn’t take long for the first flutters of white to pass by.

“It’s snowing,” you said, almost to yourself instead of to the other presence in the car.

“It’ll stop,” he said.

When you glanced over his knuckles had turned white around the steering wheel and his jaw was clenched. You let yourself look at him for a moment, knowing he couldn’t look back. Your eyes traced over his profile, along his nose, over what you’d always imagined would be soft lips, down his chin, the long column of his neck disappearing under the buttoned up collar of his shirt. he was beautiful. That much was obvious to you.

If he realised you were looking at him, he was ignoring it. And you. His fingers reached for the volume, turning up the radio until it would be awkward to talk. You continued to look, watching him. He was so careful as he drove, cautious, leaning forward to peer through the windscreen. He didn’t seem comfortable in his role as driver, tense and awkward. Or maybe he was just always like that.

The snow began to come down in flurries, sticking to the ground. Traffic slowed down even more, coming to a crawl. You pressed your nose to the window, looking out on the world.

“It’s getting worse,” you said, raising your voice to be heard over the radio.

“It’ll stop,” he said again.

You were pretty sure he was wrong.

Hours passed in silence, taking longer than it should have. The snow was falling thick and fast, the taillights of the car in front your constant companion. Lars wasn’t breathing easy, loud in the car, the radio long since turned down so he could concentrate. You were doing your best to make yourself a non-entity, not wanting to distract him at all. He’s already snapped at you just for playing with the heat.

Until it became clear that you had to say something.

“We can’t keep on,” you said.

“We’re almost there,” he ground out.

“Lars, I think we should stop until it clears up,” you said, “or at least stops snowing.”

“It doesn’t look like it’s going to stop any time soon. We should press on,” he said, jaw still clenched.

“Lars.” You waited until the van had braked again, his face turning towards him, “we have to stop.”

“Fuck,” burst from him, his hands slamming down on the steering wheel. You jumped at the sound of the horn blaring, “fine. Find somewhere for us to spend the night.”

You typed into the gps, looking for any kind of hotel nearby. Anywhere the two of you could stay as you waited for this storm to blow over. He followed the directions, pulling off the road to follow the directions as best he could in the swirl of snow and darkness.

The carpark was surprisingly full and you were worried you wouldn’t be able to find a room there. He put the car into park, staring up at the building in front of you. Instead of talking to you, he pushed the door open. You shivered, the cold invading you. Your coat was not enough to handle a snow storm.

“Come on,” he groused.

You made a dash for the front door, doing your best not to slip. His hand caught you around the elbow, keeping you steady as your feet almost came out from under you. He practically dragged you through the front door into the warm light and warm air of the entrance. Crossing over to the check in desk, you felt apprehension.

“You’re in luck,” the concierge said, “we have one last room available tonight. This weather has certainly changed a lot of people’s plans.”

“No. We need two rooms,” Lars cut in before you could say anything.

“Ah, then I’m afraid you’re not in luck. We really only have on room still available,” he said.

“We’ll take it,” you cut in before he could say anything.

One room was better than no rooms and you didn’t want to risk either of you having to go back out into that weather. You took the key from him and led a disgruntled Lars to the bank of elevators.

“Why would you do that?” he hissed when the doors closed.

“Did you want to go back out there? Because I sure as hell don’t,” you said.

He rolled his eyes, looking away from you with his arms crossed over his chest like a petulant teenager.

“Look, you can put up with me for one night. Just suck it up and deal with it and then tomorrow morning we’ll go finish the job,” you said, tired of how hostile he always was with you. It was one night. He could deal with it.

He didn’t answer. The doors open and he strode forward, plucking the key from you. You rolled your eyes, following him, trying not to look at the way his ass looked in his slacks. He might infuriate you, he might hate you, but you still felt butterflies around him and found him stupidly attractive.

Pushing open the door to the one room you were going to be sharing with him, he flicked on the lights. You ran into his back as he stopped without warning.

“What?” you asked, “is there something wrong? Did we find the murder hotel?”

You looked around his shoulder and then felt yourself freeze with him. One bed. One fucking bed. God must be laughing at you because this had to be some kind of sick joke. One double bed in the small room. This was going to kill you.

“Absolutely not,” he said, turning around to storm out only to find you still there.

He looked down at you, eyes flashing, jaw clenched, lips pressed together tight. You placed a hand on his chest, ready to push him back. He made a small noise, stepping back as if your touch burned. Maybe it did.

“I’ll go down and ask for a trundle bed or something,” you said.

You held a hand out to him, palm up, waiting for the key. He stared at you, blinked, then dropped it into your hand to keep from touching you.

Unfortunately, your trip was a bust. Too many people stuffed into a small hotel, not enough facilities for the weather. You returned on heavy feet, ignoring the man riding the elevator with you as you tried to come up with a way to tell Lars that wasn’t going to blow the entire thing up. You doubted he was above storming out into the snow and sleeping in the van just to prove a point.

“Not a fan of this weather?”

You looked up, finding the man watching you in the mirrored doors.

“Oh no, that’s not… It’s fine. Better if I was at home than here,” you replied.

“I dunno. I think there’s something magical about an unexpected snow storm in a hotel. All kinds of people come together that would normally stay so seperate,” he said, studying your face in the reflection.

You looked back, if only because his thoughts had surprised you. You hadn’t thought about it that way, seeing the nuisance the entire thing was rather than the possibilities it presented. He gave you a half smile.

“After all, would we have met without it?” he asked.

“I don’t even know you,” you replied.

“Dave.”

He offered you his hand. The palm was calloused and warm against yours and you felt shy as you gave him your name. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you averted your gaze down to your feet. His look of interest at you was new and a flutter of excitement started in your chest. It wasn’t like anything was going to happen with Lars.

“Same floor,” he said as the doors opened with a ding.

You stepped out into the hall, carpet softening the sounds of your footsteps. He followed, looking down at you as you walked side by side, hands close enough to almost brush against one another.

“This is me,” you said, coming to a stop outside the door, dread filling your stomach at what was waiting beyond for you.

“If you need any help warming up, I’m only two doors down,” he said, pointing at an identical door just down the hall from you.

The door to your room opened without warning, Lars sticking his head out. His hair was ruffled, as if he’d running his fingers through it and his sneer was not promising for the coming conversation. You gaped at him as his hand shot out, grasping your wrist and pulling you closer.

“That won’t be necessary,” he told Dave, shutting the door in his face.

“What was-“ you tried to ask before he interrupted you.

“Only an idiot would accept an offer to share a room with a stranger,” he said, cutting you off, “are you really that desperate?”

“Desperate for what?” you shot back.

His mouth opened and then shut with a snap, as if he didn’t deserve an answer. He spun on his heels, striding back to the bed, three steps away from you then back again. The skin of your wrist burned from where his touch had been fingers circling it like a manacle.

“Well?” he asked as if you’d been having a completely different conversation.

“Well what?” you asked.

“Are they going to bring a trundle?” he asked.

Ah, right, yes, that.

“They’re all out,” you said, ripping the bandaid off quick in the hopes it would hurt less.

“What do you mean they’re all out?” he asked, voice going deathly still.

“Something about a surprise snow storm and not being prepared for so many guests. If you want to go argue with them, be my guest.”

You gestured to the door and for a moment you really believed he was about to storm out of there to argue with the front desk. Then he shook his head, turning away form you so you couldn’t see the inevitable rage on his face.

“I know it’s a less than pleasant situation, but we can share a bed for one night like adults,” you said to his tense back.

He muttered something that sounded like an insult to your intelligence before he took his glasses off and dragged a hand down his face. Replacing them, he turned back to you. You’d never seen him without his glasses on before. You wondered how much of a difference it made.

“Let’s just get this over with. Make sure you stay on your side of the bed,” he said.

You would have snakily suggested making a pillow wall if you thought there’d been enough for that. As it was, the pillow situation was little depressing. One each.

You let him pick which side he wanted first, not wanting to annoy him further. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you shucked your coat off, lying it aside. Tugging each shoe off, you glanced over your shoulder at him. He still had his tie on. He wouldn’t be sleeping in that would he? Apparently he would. You were going to have a hard enough time trying to sleep in your jeans. He wasn’t human. He couldn’t be.

You climbed into the bed, turning on your side so you didn’t have to see him. The bed dipped as he lay down beside you, a tug on the covers. The lights went off, leaving you in darkness. Facing the window, you watched the snow fall, not sure you’d be able to fall asleep. Shadows passed over the glass, the pile of snow growing on the window. You sighed, soft in the silence.

The longer you waited, the more the cold began to invade your senses. You could put it off when you were focusing on other things, problems to solve. Now you were left waiting, shivering in the expanse of the bed.

Lars was close enough you could almost feel his body heat. The bed wasn’t as big as either of you would have liked if you had to guess. He shifted again. You curled up in a ball, hugging your knees to your chest, trying to stop the shivering. You didn’t want to wake him. He hated you enough as it was.

A grunted huff. You tensed, waiting to see what happened. Nothing. Silence reigned again. You tried to relax again but the shivering was becoming unbearable.

“For gods sake,” you heard Lars mutter into the dark.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“Can’t you stop?” he demanded.

“I’m trying,” you replied through gritted teeth, “it’s so fucking cold.”

A hand reached out, fingertips brushing over your spine. You jerked back, shrieking when you almost fell out of the bed. An arm curled around your waist, hauling you against a warm body. You struggled against the hold trying to put more space between the two of you.

“Stop flailing about like a fish,” he said.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“I know you find me repulsive but perhaps you can put that aside for one night so you don’t freeze to death and we can both maybe get some sleep,” he said, voice soft, breath ghosting against your skin, “shared body heat is the best chance of that.”

He certainly was warm against you.

“I don’t find you repulsive,” you whispered, not able to focus on anything else. If you did then you’d feel the way his body felt against yours, the hard planes of his chest, the curve of his legs as the slotted behind you, the soft rise and fall of his breathing.

“Course you do,” he said, “don’t be stupid.”

You turned, needing to see his face. You had no idea what was going through his head but whatever it was you needed him to know he was wrong. His arms tightened around you as if wanting to stop you but you wiggled your way around to face him.

He was so close, nose brushing against yours. You froze, finding him without his glasses, breath brushing your lips. He was softer without them, more boyish, less of something to hide behind. He drew back, retreating, like you were chasing him away.

“I don’t find you repulsive. Not at all. You’re…” you hesitated, not wanting to reveal your hand to him.

He began to retract his arms from around you but you reached out, winding his tie around your hand, keeping him in place. He glanced down then back to your face, lingering a moment. You must have been mistaken because otherwise he had been looking at your lips and that would be too much to handle.

“I’m what?” he asked, voice barely above an exhalation.

“You’re beautiful,” came from you without permission.

Lying so close to him in the dark, lit up by the lights out on the street, it felt like a confessional, the perfect moment for secrets to spill out.

He blinked, a look of confusion passing over his face. On of your hands came up, tracing over the way his eyebrows came together, smoothing the line between them.

“You’re the one who hates me,” you said when no response came forth.

“What makes you think that?” he asked, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers continued to trace over his features. He wasn’t batting you away, demanding you stay on your side, to stop bothering him.

“You glare at me, you leave every room I enter, you’re mean to me,” you listed off, “you made it clear you didn’t want me going on this job with you.”

“Because I knew it would be intolerable to sit in the van with you for hours,” he said, voice heartbreakingly soft.

“See? You hate me,” you replied.

“No.” His eyes sprang open and there was something there, so close to fear, or panic.

“No?” You had no idea what he was getting at.

“That wasn’t why it would be intolerable. It’s not… I’m not… You’d be sitting so close I could touch you,” he said.

“So?” you asked, not sure what the problem was.

“I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop myself.”

Now you were the one who was confused, eyebrows drawing together. The way he was looking at you was like it hurt to say and that only made it less clear what was going on.

“What?” you asked.

“I want to touch you, all of the time. You’re so…You’re just… It’s… I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he said.

“So why are you always so mean to me?” you asked.

“To remind myself you don’t want me the way I want you,” he replied.

“But what if I did?”

That shut him up. He looked down at you, still so close to him, mouth hanging open. You decided to take matters into your own hands, since he didn’t seem to be getting the message.

Surging up, you caught his lips in a soft kiss. He made a pained noise and you drew back, worried you’d hurt him. His hands pressed into your spine, dragging you closer as he kissed you again, almost like he couldn’t stop himself. His tongue dragged over your bottom lip and you opened yourself up to him.

He didn’t stop you as you climbed onto him, knees falling either side of his hips, straddling him. Your hair fell forward, a curtain between you and the rest of the world. You were quick as you tugged on the tie, pulling it off him, so frustrated by it. His hands had fallen to your hips, squeezing, pushing up past your sweater, seeking out the warmth of your skin.

You lost yourself in him, in his kisses. For such a buttoned up person, he kissed like a man who knew what he was doing. It only made you moan into his mouth, wanting more, wanting him in all the ways you’d never admitted to anyone before. You wanted his hands all over you. You wanted his lips all over you. You wanted him.

“We have to stop,” he mumbled against your lips before kissing you again.

“Uh huh,” you hummed, letting your tongue graze against his.

His answering groan and the tightening of his hands wasn’t indicative that he wanted to stop. He was kissing you like you were the air he breathed. Like you were everything he’d ever wanted.

“Really,” he said as he drew back after indulging for a long moment.

“You don’t want me?” The sting of rejection was like ice over you.

You sat up properly, staring down at him.

“No. What? No. I do. I want you,” he said, panicked as he sat up too, following you, arms curling around your waist to keep you in place in his lap, “but not here. Not like this. Not in some seedy hotel. It should be after I’ve taken you somewhere nice for dinner and shown you that I’m a good guy and that I’ll treat you right. I’m meant to impress you first before this.”

“You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?” you said.

“Maybe.” His eyes darted away from you.

Reaching up, you cupped his cheek, turning his face back towards you. Your lower lip was caught between your teeth and his eyes landed on it again, darkening, almost smouldering. You lent forward, giving him another lingering kiss.

“I must admit, when I’ve thought about it, it wasn’t quite like this,” you said, “at the very least I expected to be wearing sexy underwear.”

His skin heated, cheeks flushing. Your thumb ran over the warm skin, admiring it. His small whimper was gratifying and the way he was looking at you let you know he wanted to devour you.

“When we’re done with this job, I’m taking you out,” he promised, eyes sweeping down your body.

You let your fingers fall from his face, brushing the vulnerable skin of his neck before you began to slowly unbutton his shirt. He caught your wrist again and you wondered if that was something he enjoyed. If he might want to restrain you.

“What are you doing, love?” he asked, “I thought we were in agreement.”

“You can’t sleep like this. I’m just getting you comfortable,” you murmured.

He released you, letting you unbutton the rest of the shirt, pushing it from his shoulders. His skin was soft against yours, so warm it was almost burning in the cold air of the room. He lay back, pulling you with him. You settled against his body, head reasting on his chest, half on top of him.

“You have no idea how happy I am,” he murmured in the dark.

“I think I do,” you replied.

His lips pressed to the top of your head in a soft kiss before he settled down again. You listened to his heartbeat, slowing as his breathing evened out. Closing your eyes, you let yourself relax against him, much warmer than before.

And if you returned to the lab the next day with a bounce in your step, then you didn’t feel any need to explain yourself to Winston when you passed over the artefact.

#lars pinfield #lars pinfield imagine #lars pinfield x reader #request #gingerrosecoseplay

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