#egon spengler one-shot

[killerheelsonadiscodancefloor]

seeing with new eyes | egon spengler x reader

author’s note: so hi! this is my first little story i’m posting on here, very exciting stuff! i love love love requests so feel free to hit me with them :) i’m planning on putting together more of a comprehensive list of what i write for and such, but for now, ghostbusters fanfic

warnings: purposeful lowercase, jealousy, distant egon, flirting to make someone jealous, possibly ooc (it’s the first time in writing for ghostbusters), lmk if you guys see any i missed

it had only been a few weeks that i had been working with the ghostbusters to help janine take calls and make appointments, and thus far, they were the most exciting few weeks of my life.

i could hardly remember what my day-to-day was like before i scored my job at the fire station. coming in every day at eight to help janine schedule appointments, starting the coffee brewing for the boys, making sure the proton packs were ready for the specters they would face that day. it was all a routine that flowed so well it was practically second nature.

i even fit in well with janine and the ghostbusters themselves. well, almost all of them anyway.

there was ray, with his kind eyes and bright smile, who had immediately gone out of his way to welcome me to the station. he gave me the tour, teaching me all the little tricks along the way- “if you ever have business around here later at night, that stair kinda creaks—peter hasn’t gotten around to getting it fixed yet, you know how that is,” -and always made sure to keep me in the loop regarding information that referred to before i was hired. ray was easy to joke with and fun to share a snack with on our lunch break.

then, of course, winston. he understood better than anyone else what it felt like to join the gang a little later and made sure i knew he was always available to chat with. while spending time with him i learned more of the practical parts of hunting ghouls, “just in case!” he always said. winston was also one to not sugarcoat things and had pulled me aside after my interview to kindly but seriously caution me as to what the job entailed. i cherished the time we spent walking to the local sub shop and fixing up the ecto-1 together.

peter was an unavoidable presence around the station, although not an unwelcome one. the whole flirtatious douchebag bit he had going was a lot less obnoxious once i got to know the snarky but sweet man that laid behind it. peter was truly devoted to dana and seeing them together put a smile on face; this was due in part to how nice it was to see the two in love, but also because it gave me ammunition to make fun of him with. we playfully messed with each other often, switching between several of our running jokes in the same conversation—much to the confusion of the others.

and finally. the ghostbuster that seemed none too fond of me at all: egon. i admired him greatly for all of the things he’d invented while discovering more scientific information about ghosts than anyone in the field before him. and, sure, maybe i also admired the way his hair fell into his face when he was examining a new specimen and the way his eyes lit up as he jotted new findings down into the various notebooks he had scattered about. but that’s not very relevant. at least, that’s what i try to tell myself and janine. but after my first week working here, our interactions had been extremely limited.

———

while on my tour from ray, we wandered down to the lab. “this is the spot egon frequents, so if you ever need to find him, this is the best place to look.” ray informs me in a quiet undertone. the stark contrast in the boisterous way he’d been speaking upstairs sobered me. suddenly this whole operation felt much more serious-more real, even. we continued further into the room from the staircase to find egon bent over a microscope.

“egon!” ray greets with a slap on his friend’s shoulder. “ray.” egon mumbles back distractedly. his brows furrow as he adjusts the magnification on the equipment, before moving back and shaking his head.

“hard at work figuring out the molecular breakdown of that goo?” i ask, testing a joke to gage just how professional egon truly was.

while ray smiles, egon merely stares. he seems to be at a loss for words as he considers me and before i can apologize, he rushes out, “yes, actually. we got this when peter got, well, ‘slimed,’ we’ll call it. figuring out it’s exact components could help leaps and bounds in figuring out how exactly these specters manifest and what we can do to stop the influx new york has had thrust upon it.”

“oh! so this is definitely some, uh, important ectoplasm then. i have to admit, i don’t know much on the science side of all of this. would you mind if i borrowed your notes sometime?” i asked, shifting my feet. while it was slightly painful for me to have to ask egon for help understanding, i figured, who better than the brains of the bunch? if i was going to be working here for the foreseeable future, it would be good to have a deeper understanding of the creatures i’d be (indirectly) dealing with.

again, egon hit me with that look, as though he’s never seen something like me before. after an awkwardly long beat of silence, ray nudged egon with his elbow. egon suddenly sprung back to life, quickly maneuvering himself off of his stool and to a desk on the other side of the lab. he grabbed a stapled packet of paper and arrived in front of me, offering it to me with a fully extended arm. “it’s a thesis of sorts, you can read it before i submit it to the new york times.” egon says after i take it, tucking it gingerly into my bag.

i expressed my appreciation and shook his still outstretched hand, introducing myself despite the fact that janine told me she had already told all the guys about me. egon shot me a tight smile, and sensing rather than guessing that he wanted to get back to his ectoplasm, ray moved forward to continue my tour.

three days later, i ventured down to the lab on my own to return egon’s thesis. despite his occasionally overly scientific language, the paper had been a good read. i told him as much when i handed him the papers, making my best attempt at ignoring the flutter in my heart when our fingers brushed. “you thought so? it’s good to hear, peter was saying it may be too advanced for ‘normal people,’” at this point, he did air-quotes with his fingers and i tried my hardest not to be endeared by it. “i think he was just messing with me, ray agreed with me that it was a good middle ground of being too academic and too simple.”

with a jolt, i realized his dark eyes were directed to me for my opinion. “definitely! anything that was kind of complicated, you can deduce through the context. and from what i can tell, peter is always messing with everyone, i wouldn’t take his critiques too seriously.” i reassured, a broad smile on my face as i did so. egon opened his mouth to respond when the siren blared, signaling the beginning of a new case and then end to our conversation.

“well, i’ll catch you later! maybe you can brief me on your goo findings.” i added a wink at the end, trying to get a bit more friendly with the doctor. he stumbled his way through a goodbye before leaving the lab-not seeming to realize that he had his suit down here.

———

since that day, it seemed like egon was avoiding me. i wasn’t sure what i had done wrong. maybe the way i joked about his work? but no, he’d seemed fine when i did that before. the fact that i’d read his thesis? then again, egon had been the one to offer it to me.

i took my concerns to ray, where they were promptly overheard by peter.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about it, newbie. egon gets freaked about my jokes all the time and we still put up with each other!” he said bracingly, shaking my shoulders to make his point.

ray looked as though he wanted to interject, but winston called him from downstairs. he grinned apologetically and slid down the pole to see why his friend was calling him. before long, peter and i were sharing the left over lo mein on the table and discussing golden girls (a guilty pleasure of his.)

egon entered midway through this conversation without even glancing our way. he began to brew a new pot of coffee with his eyes fixed sternly on the machine. i felt a frown tug at my lips before i was able to pull myself away from analyzing this behavior and back to peter’s reasoning about how sophia was the best character. something was different though, i noted as peter scooted his chair closer to mine. my mind switched rapidly between peter’s sudden flirtatious behavior as he hooked his foot around mine to egon’s tense shoulders and white-knuckle grip on the cabinet.

“what do you think?” peter’s voice drew my eyes to him as i tried (and failed) to not notice egon in my peripheral. “about sophia.” he prompted again.

“oh, well i guess i would agree with you-” i began, before peter whooped excitedly.

“yes! i knew there was a reason i liked you!” he proclaimed, snatching my hand up and pressing a dramatic kiss to it. i raised my eyebrows at his prolonged eye contact before drawing my hand away with a chuckle.

“peter, we both know you only like me for my pretty face.” i joked. “well, it certainly doesn’t hurt.” he fired back quickly. suddenly egon snatched the whole pot of coffe, turning swiftly on his heel and closing the door harshly on his way out. “sheesh. looks like someone’s a tad jealous. you know, for egon being the scientist here, i’d sure love to study his brain. not for his supposed genius either.” peter scoffed good-naturedly.

i blinked at him in shock. “jealous? egon? no way.” i denied easily. the guy was extremely pragmatic and intelligent, i doubted he would let something so petty effect him. that and he’s completely avoided me the past couple weeks.

“watch, i’ll show you.” peter insisted. i stared at him before finally relenting with a roll of my eyes. “what’s in it for you anyway?” i asked. “well, an opportunity to bother egon, not to mention flirt with a beautiful lady-” i cut him off quickly, “goodbye peter!”

and so peter’s plan commenced. he flirted with me to apparently make egon jealous, despite the fact that i was sure egon despised me. when i told ray how ridiculous i felt this whole charade was, he agreed but chimed in with something that shook me. “although, if this is what it takes to get egon to make a move, i guess it’ll be worth it.”

i spluttered in shock. “what? it’s true! me and the other guys are sick of him being too skittish to do anything but stare at you.” ray continued as if he hasn’t just flipped my world upside down.

before i could retort, the door swung open and egon, the man of the hour, entered. ray quickly switched the topic to our shared favorite snack, cheez-itz. i stared incredulously at the choice in conversation but he gave me a look back that said ‘just go with it.’ we continued talking about cheez-itz until he left the room. “that was ridiculous.” i mumbled, putting my head down on my arms. ray patted my shoulder sympathetically, unable to reassure me because it really had been.

the following day, there was a new box of cheez-itz on my desk. i stopped a couple of feet away to examine the scene. “what’s the matter with you? you’re blocking the space.” janine said as she steered me to my desk. i silently pointed at the box.

“oh. huh.” she said, apparently also stumped. “wasn’t there yesterday.” i mumbled. she hummed as she took in the scene, before we flinched in shock as ray roughly opened the door. “(y/n)— oh, did you get more cheez-itz?” he asked reaching for the box.

“no, i guess someone… got them for me.” i concluded with a smile. ray handed them over with a shrug. “wasn’t me.” him and janine chorused. i shook my head. that much had been obvious. i sank into my chair as i tried to figure out who would gift these to me, when peter strolled in.

“venkman! what is this, some sort of courting gift?” i asked with a raised brow. “courting g—what are you talking about?” peter replied in bewilderment. i held up the cheez-itz in answer. “ah, no. not from me anyway. also you’re gonna have a visitor soon—” before he could finish speaking, egon hurriedly enters the room with winston trailing behind him.

“so there’s a party and no one invited me? real cold.” winston joked, coming to stand next to ray at my desk. before any of us could retort, egon turns to me and clears his throat.

“could i talk to you, (y/n)?” he asks, eyes shifting from me to the rest of the room.

i blinked in surprise. what was with these guys and catching me off guard today? “um, sure!” i replied, standing up so quickly that my chair rolled back. egon nodded appreciatively and walked back out into the stairwell. with a nervous glance at janine and the guys, i followed.

i shut the door behind me, finding egon standing tensely in the hallway. “are you alright?” i asked gently. he looked at me contemplatively before asking, “did you know peter is attracted to you?”

my eyebrows raised in shock. egon took this to mean no and continued. “that’s the reason he’s asked you out to dinner. he wants it to be a date.” he stared at me as he waited for my response. “oh. huh.” i said intelligently. i hadn’t been informed of this plan. i guess peter may have just started saying whatever he could to make egon jealous. i refocused when i saw egon take a deep breath in.

“do you want it to be a date?” his voice was strained. “um, i’m not sure. i guess i’d have to think about it.” i trailed off uncertainly. egon’s gaze lingered on my fidgeting hands before he burst out, “(y/n), i’d like to tell you something before you consider this date with peter. i… i have feelings for you.”

my mouth parted as i stared at him in complete shock. sure, i’d been told that egon liked me. peter had even started this whole scheme to prove it. but i never really thought it was possible. now though…

“well. this definitely changes things.” i mumbled, my mind going a thousand miles a minute. egon seemed uneasy and maybe regretful. “i-i’m sorry if i’ve ruined things—”

“you haven’t.” i replied firmly. i stepped closer and took his hand in mine. egon’s dark eyes searched mine before he slowly leaned in, bringing the hand not holding mine to rest against my collar bone and play with my hair. a smile involuntarily curled my lips up until i couldn’t contain myself anymore. swiftly, my hand caught his tie and i pulled him to me until our lips pressed together.

egon’s hand moved from mine up to my back and he pressed me closer to him, deepening the kiss with the new angle. i brought my other arm around his shoulders to keep my balance. he was a bit taller than me, and kissing him had me on my tip toes.

“does this mean we aren’t going out this weekend?” venkman’s pouty voice broke me and egon apart. his grip on my waist tightened slightly. “the jig is up peter. you can go crawling back to dana now.” i snickered. “yeah, well, sacrifices needed to be made. she’s been waiting on you two to get together longer than me.” peter replied with an overly dramatic roll of his eyes. he exited with a ‘you’re welcome!’ called over his shoulder. loud cheers erupted after he entered the room again.

“going off all the noise, i guess everyone knows we’re together now.” i hummed, turning to look back at egon. he stood with a puzzled furrow between his brows. “so all of the flirting peter’s been doing, it was all to make me jealous?” he asked. “yeah, he said there was no way you’d confess otherwise.”

at egon’s scoff, i raised an eyebrow. “well, would you have? confessed?” i inquired with a grin. his silence was answer enough. i began to giggle while egon merely shook his head and pulled me closer. “maybe venkman’s smarter than we all think.” he mumbled into my hair. i only laughed harder at this, clutching egon’s shoulders.

“so, wait—” i said, pulling away so that i could see egon. “the cheez-itz, were those you?” i asked in wonder. egon ducked his head, smiling bashfully. i gasped dramatically. “look at you being all romantic with the secret admirer stuff!”

egon moved closer once more, pressing another gentle kiss to my lips. “well, it’s not so secret anymore.” he whispered, before i pulled him in once more. at least now i knew that egon definitely didn’t dislike me.

tags! @maraudermap000

[toriisasimp]

Sleepy Scientific Method

Egon Spengler x Reader

Prompt: During a rough night of attempted rest, you are the only one awake in the firehouse, getting a midnight snack. But, when Egon realizes you're awake and more tired than you think, he offers some help to try and soothe you back to sleep.

Warnings: None! Just an INSANE amount of fluff, and unspoken feelings!! We love to see it!

A/N: My first published Egon one shot. I have so many sitting in google docs and thought I might as well start putting them out! Egon Spengler is the loml and I love writing fluff with him. ENJOY >:)

-

It was nearing the ungodly hours of the morning, and you had been lying awake on your bunk for at least two hours now. You crane your neck to get a glimpse of the alarm clock next to your bed, and it reads 4:07 AM. Christ, you think- running a hand over your face. You sit up slowly, eyes adjusting to the darkness and seeing four lumps right where you left them, along with the sound of a distant ticking clock, the AC pumping, and Venkman’s snoring. You’d adjusted to it and naturally gained the ability to tune it out when you sleep, so you knew it wasn’t that keeping you up. 

Perhaps it was the four cups of coffee and 53 page research paper you typed up for Egon to read over on the cardiovascular effects of paranormal experiences on humans. 

Snapping out of your train of thought, you finally give up and toss the covers aside, snatching your robe and tossing it over your shoulders before trudging out of the bedroom and into the large lounge area, most of the lights shut off. You flick one on, a small kitchen light sitting above the dining table in the middle of the right corner. 

Squinting and yawning, you stand still for a moment and let your eyes adjust to the sudden change of light before shuffling over to the fridge, opening it up and peeking inside. An aching appetite, perhaps that was it. You grabbed the gallon of milk that you prayed wasn’t expired, checked it by taking a whiff and making the assumption that it was fine. 

You then opened the top cabinet, reaching up and just barely grazing the cereal boxes on the top, before knocking one over and catching it right on time. Cinnamon Toast Crunch, your favorite. You and Egon shared a love for it, while Venkman liked Fruit Loops, Ray liked Lucky Charms and Winston was a Cheerios kind of guy. 

You kept stock of all of them.

You then grabbed a bowl and spoon, and opened the box as quietly as possible and tried to inconspicuously pour it into the bowl, only making a slight clinking sound as the cereal hit the inside of the bowl. You put it back, and poured some milk, just as you heard your name being softly called from the bedroom.

Egon stood in the doorway, holding his robe around his waist with one hand as the other slid on his glasses. 

Your eyebrows raised, immediately feeling guilty for waking one of your buddies up with your midnight cravings. 

“Sorry, I’ll uh- I’ll be done in a second.”

“That’s alright.” He successfully gets his glasses on and finishes tying his robe, as he approaches you at the counter. “An early breakfast?”

“Can’t sleep.” You say while pouring some milk into the bowl.

“Have you considered melatonin?” He inquired, tilting his head.

“Doesn’t work on me.” 

“Hmph.” He hums, turning to lean his back against the counter and fold his arms, eyes scanning over the dark horizon of the rest of the floor of the fire house.

You then stir the cereal a bit, then take a bite and chew as you pick up the bowl and resume the same position as him.

“Sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t.” He shook his head slightly. “I already had something on my mind and was basically awake.”

You tilt your head, take another bite of the cereal and chew while you speak. “What’s on your mind?”

He shakes his head and looks down at the floor.

“Alright.. I won’t pry. For now.”

He smirks and looks back up straight for a moment, before his eyes move over to your tired figure.

“You look tired.” He notes the prominent bags under your eyes, the lack of color in your skin tone, and the downturned position your face automatically takes, rather than the more alert, expressive one it usually does. 

You shrug and nod. “I am. But I have nothing on you- didn’t you say once, gosh, that you slept for like-“

“Fourteen minutes a day? Yeah, I quit that a couple months back. Ray said it was making me a bit hay-wire.”

“Egon Spengler? Hay-wire? Pshhhhh.” You shake your head and giggle softly, and you look down and see the empty bowl of cereal. You must’ve finished it during the conversation. 

“Very funny.” He says plainly, and you can’t quite tell with the sleep in his voice if it’s genuine or sarcasm.

You snort at his response, turning and rinsing the bowl out in the sink before setting it down into it, and sighing softly as you run your hands over your face.

Egon internally goes over the list of strategies to create sleepiness.

“My Mother always used to tell me when I couldn’t sleep to just lay there with my eyes closed. Turns out she raised an insomniac, because it never worked. I always ended up sleeping throughout the day.”

“Have you considered physical touch?” He asks out of the blue. 

You turn, the next words you were going to say getting caught in your throat. You perk a brow.

“What?” You ask, genuinely confused.

“Physical touch. I’ve looked into it myself, and some sources say receiving physical touch can lead the mind into a relaxed state, and could also lead to sleepiness.” 

You let out a puff of air, wondering where he’s going with this.

“Ray says I give good hugs.” He states, almost like a question- trying to prove himself. 

With that, you look over at him, giving a small wiggle of your eyebrow as a silent ask of approval, and he gives a subtle nod, opening his arms just enough for you to step in front of him and up to him so you’re pressed against him, your head resting perfectly against his chest. Your arms naturally fold against his chest as well, not exactly certain on putting them anywhere else.

There’s a moment where he’s not touching you anywhere else, other than where you are touching him- until you feel his arms gently wrap around your waist, his hands folding at the base of your spine. He lets out an audible breath.

You already feel your eyes start to flutter.

“Do I have to-“

“We can just stand here, if that works for you. I don’t mind silence.” He speaks softer this time, more tender- and it makes your shoulders relax.. you didn’t even notice how tense they were.

“Focus on your breathing,” He begins to quietly guide you. “Lower the tongue from the roof of your mouth. Let your eyes shut and your body relax, I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.

Your face turns slightly further into his chest, and you inhale, taking in his scent.. it’s hard to place, but it makes you smile.

“This is quite the scientific solution, Doctor Spengler.” You say softly with a giggle, and you can feel his chest rumble beneath you as he laughs as well. 

Without another word spoken, he brings his hand up to the back of your head, resting over the bun your hair was tied up in.

“May I?”

You nod, and he gently tugs on the scrunchie, your hair falling out and resting naturally now. 

The scrunchie disappears out of his grip, and it’s replaced with the alluring sensation of his fingers running through your hair, over your scalp.. making you shiver. Your eyes are completely shut, your breaths slowing.

You’re not sure how long he’s been playing with your hair and holding you upright, but you eventually mumble.

“Egon, I might fall asleep standing up..”

And you hear his gentle response,

“I won’t let that happen.”

Sleep tugs at your eyes, your mind, and your entire body begins to give up it’s weight.

As you brink at fully being unconscious, you feel something else peck at the top of your head for a brief moment, before it slumps to the side, and you lose contact. 

But not soon before you feel your heavy legs get whisked up from under you, making you feel completely weightless. 

There’s some soft footsteps, the pause and reach as it suddenly gets more dark, and then more footsteps before you feel yourself getting eased back into your cozy bed. There’s another pause before your blankets are pulled up to rest under your chin, and another one before you feel the same rough, but gentle fingertips brush some of your hair back, and another peck at the skin of your forehead.

Some unintelligible words mumbled, or maybe they’re just sounds.. 

Before sleep finally pulls you under.

And all you dream about is the undeniable comfort and peace Egon Spengler brings you. 

-

<3

[eebydeebyderby]

I’m Sorry

In which a near-deadly incident involving Reader pushes Egon past his breaking point.

Requested by this very polite anon and this incredibly bloodthirsty one. 

General Info:

Egon x fem!reader, one-shot, established romantic relationship, hurt/comfort, angst, real sadboy Egon hours

word count: ~5.0k

Content Warnings: blood, life-threatening injuries, trauma

******

You sit at your desk, surrounded by several messy stacks of spreadsheets, stat recordings, and observation notes collected by Egon and Ray over the past week. The boys just pulled into the garage a few minutes prior, and you can hear their faint footsteps scrambling upstairs as they unload from their most recent call and prepare for the next. The phone on your desk rings and you pick it up. “Hi, Janine,” you say pleasantly, scribbling notes in your graph book. “What’s up?”

“The boys need an extra tomorrow and they're gonna send Egon down to try and convince you," she says flatly. “Here, listen.” 

Janine holds the phone out and Peter's voice rings out in the background. "Egon! You handsome son of a gun, just—hey! Janine! Snitch! Traitor!"

Janine puts the phone back on her ear. "Hear that, honey? He’s already on his way. Best of luck.” 

She hangs up the phone just as Egon trots down the stairs and wraps his arms around you from behind. “Hello, sweetheart,” he purrs. His stubble is coarse on your cheek as he nuzzles into you. The slightest hint of ozone clings to his jumpsuit, the slightest whiff of sweet chocolate in his breath. 

“Hey, Spengs.” You reach up and lightly stroke his jaw, still writing in your notebook. “What is it you're going to ask me?"

"I don't ever come over just to give you some affection?" He kisses the bottom of your jaw, sending a small shiver down your spine. You crack a smile, despite your best efforts. 

"Very rarely during work hours, Spengs. Unless you're trying to butter me up to ask a favor."

“Maybe I simply want to steal a few moments with the love of my life before my next call.” His breath is hot on your neck. 

“Ah, I see.” You snicker and put your pencil down, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck. “I bet you have no ulterior motives. Absolutely none.” 

He works his way down to the crook of your neck and you gasp, burying your fingers in his hair. He smiles, feeling your pulse against his lips. "So, there's a call scheduled tomorrow and we need an additional pers—"

"No."

“It’s a fairly straightforward assignment. All you’d need t⁠—hey!” he exclaims when you grab his hand and bite down on his wrist. Not anywhere near hard enough to cause actual pain, but enough to get a rise out of him. He takes your hand in his to prevent another attack. “As I was saying,” he presses a kiss to your palm and holds your hand against his face, enjoying the gentle warmth of your touch, “it’ll just be a quick job.”

You scoff. “My job is to clean up the messy data sets that you and Ray spew at my feet and make the numbers actually mean something. Nowhere in the job description did it say ‘get drenched in filth’ when Ray hired me. Everytime I go out with you boys, it takes me a week to fully wash the ectoplasm out of my hair."

"Have you considered premature balding as a solution? It causes Peter less difficulty in washing his hair."

“You’re right, Egon. That’s the perfect fix.”

He kisses you on your temple. “Good! I’m glad it’s settled.” He pulls away from you and starts making his way to the staircase. “We leave at 11:30 tomorrow night.”

“What?! Hey!" You nearly lunge out of your chair and seize him by the baggy sleeve of his jumpsuit. He peers down at you with soft eyes, the slightest ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You groan and release him. "Fine. I'll go.”

Janine's voice crackles on the overhead speaker. "Boys! Get ready for your 9:00pm!"

He pulls you in for a final kiss on your cheek. "Thank you, sweetheart. Let yourself into the apartment. I'm going to be home late tonight."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☆.｡:*.｡.:*☆ ༓･*˚⁺‧͙

It’s a beautiful winter night with clear skies. 

The clock nears midnight as the five of you unload the Ecto-One just outside of an old, condemned city park. The grass is dead, the water fountains graffitied, the asphalt faded, the brick walls crumbled, but the park still holds a shadow of its former beauty. 

"A wraith is a fairly rare Class III semi-corporeal non-human entity that often impersonates the visages of recently deceased individuals,” Egon explains as you help him strap on his pack. “Injuries caused by them are almost unheard of, but caution is recommended nonetheless since they often manifest sickle-like claws. If possible, I'd like to secure an ectoplasmic samp⁠—hey! Hey!” His seriousness momentarily breaks and he snickers when you bite his wrist. He pulls your hand up to plant a kiss on your palm and holds it against his face, relishing the warmth of your touch. "As I was saying," he says snidely, “it’s a fairly simple procedure. Peter will contain the ghost, Ray will control the trap, Winston will neutralize the field, I’ll secure a few live samples, and you’ll stand very far back with the spectrometer to record the physioelectrical readings from the ghost. That way, your hair will be very well out of sliming range.”

Everybody finishes getting ready and gathers together at one end of the park, eyes peeled for any signs of the wraith. Egon holds out the PKE meter as the group moves forward. A horrible shriek echoes through the park, sending a shiver down your neck, and what looks like a torn black cloak whooshes over your heads and retreats behind a brick wall in the distance. “Can’t be too sure,” Egon says flatly, raising his PKE meter in the air. “But I think it may be nearby.”

"And ooh! She's a chunky one!" Peter yells gleefully, dialing up the power on his proton gun and running after it. The other boys leap into action and you stay behind, keeping the spectrometer pointed at the wraith as it flies over them, swiping clumsily at them with sickle-like claws. Peter quickly gets his proton stream lassoed around the wraith with easy precision from his first shot. The wraith snarls and lunges at Winston, teeth bared, but he easily avoids it as he sticks another plasma rod onto the ground. “C’mon, honey. Don’t be like that,” Peter grunts, yanking the wraith back. “I know I’m not as cute as Winston but I'm really trying here.”

“We’re through, sugar!” Winston laughs as he sets up the perimeter. “We’re over! I got a thicker girl back home!”

The wraith seizes the stream in its oversized claws and slowly starts slipping it off. Peter’s stream sputters a bit and he ramps the power higher. “Guys!” he shouts, the humor completely gone from his voice. “She’s gonna get loose! Brace yourselves!” 

Just seconds later the creature breaks free from the stream and rushes towards Ray, who immediately pulls the taser from his belt and swings the crackling weapon at it, striking it across the face. It shrieks and flies around sporadically before turning its attention to you, claws bared. You instinctively throw your hands up to shield your face, dropping the spectrometer to the ground. The wraith’s huge claws slash deeply up the length of both your arms from elbow to palm as it flies past you, sending a horrid iciness through your entire body and nearly knocking you over. 

Egon runs over to you as the creature turns its attention to Peter in the distance, who’s pleading with it not to leave him again, ‘for the sake of the kids’ as he chases it around. "Sweetheart, are—?" He freezes when you turn around and lock eyes with him. Blood immediately saturates your shredded sleeves, runs freely down your hands and trickles off your fingers. His breath stalls in his throat. 

You stumble a few steps and collapse against him, weakly clinging to him for a few seconds before you crumple to the ground at his feet.

His mind screams for him to say something, to do something, anything, but he's absolutely immobilized with panic. 

“Ray! Grab the first-aid kit from the car! And call 911!” Winston sprints over to you and drops to his knees. “You’re gonna be okay, baby. You’re gonna be alright.” He tears the emergency tourniquet from the toolbelt on his jumpsuit and fumbles a bit as he unravels it. “Spengler, tourniquet her other arm.” 

Egon stands rooted to the spot, absolutely petrified, shivering and staring down at your unconscious form as your blood pools around his boots.

“Hey, babygirl, I need you to stay with me. Stay with me, okay?” His voice quivers with fear as he tightens the strap above your elbow. “You’re gonna be alright. Just keep breathing.” His hands and knees are drenched in your blood as he grabs a second tourniquet from your belt and tightens it on your other arm. 

Ray runs over and kneels down beside Winston with the first aid kit, eyes wide and face pale. “Oh my god…”

Winston throws open the first aid kit and quickly rummages through it. “Did you call 911?”

“Yeah. ETA four minutes…”

“Good work. Very good work.” He shoves a large bundle of gauze into Ray’s arms, smearing your blood on his jumpsuit. Ray looks ready to vomit. “Put these on the wounds with as much pressure as you can.” Winston tears open the wrappers and begins packing them on your arm. “Pile them on each other, as hard as you can. Don't worry about hurting her. You're not going to. Keep going until you run out." 

Ray follows as best as he can with violently shaking hands, struggling to blink back the tears stinging his eyes. “Egon? Can you help us?”

Egon stays completely frozen, unresponsive to Ray’s voice, his eyes wide and fixated on you. 

“Egon?” Ray’s voice cracks but he keeps to his task. “Are you o⁠—?” 

“No,” Winston cuts in calmly but firmly. “But we’ll worry about him later.” 

In the distance, Peter has the trap tucked firmly under his arm and his stream lassoed around the thrashing ghost, struggling to contain it as he avoids looking in your direction for fear of what he might see. “Eegs! Snap out of it, bud! I really need your help here!” Peter’s brow is drenched in sweat as he slowly loses his footing; his boots start sliding across the floor. “AGH!” He tries pulling his arms back but the wraith pulls harder, lurching him forward and almost yanking him off his feet. “Goddamnit! Spengler, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!”

Egon’s eyes dart up to Peter, but he stays completely still, eyes wide and fearful.

Peter turns his head briefly and immediately looks away when he sees flashing lights. He ramps up his stream to full power and, mustering all his remaining strength, throws the creature to the ground, momentarily stunning it. He drops the trap on the ground, slams his foot on the trigger point, then yanks the weakened ghost towards the glowing trap. There’s a shriek, a flash of light, and the ghost disappears. 

The trap shuts and Peter drops his gun to the ground with an agonized groan, his arms stiff and violently shaking. His breathing is intense and rapid as he struggles to draw enough air into his searing lungs. A sudden look of fury crosses his face. He shouts and kicks the trap across the asphalt. It clatters along the ground and crashes into the brick wall with a metallic bang. He then turns to Egon and stomps over to him, rage burning in his eyes. Peter seizes Egon by the lapels of his jumpsuit and harshly slams him into the wall, hitting the back of his head and sending sparks dancing through his vision. “What the hell is your problem?! Huh?! For a guy who claims to love her, you sure as hell were perfectly fine doing nothing and letting her fucking die on the ground right at your feet!"

Egon blinks slowly, staring down at Peter with blank, dazed eyes, weakly grasping his wrists.  

Peter slams him into the wall again, knocking the breath out of him. "Answer me!" he snarls. 

Egon stays silent. 

“Peter.” Ray tries to put his hand on Peter’s shoulder but he’s harshly shoved away and falls on the ground.

“ANSWER ME!” he roars.

"Peter!" Ray cries, clutching his elbow as he scrambles to his feet, tears flooding down his cheeks. 

Tears spill down Peter’s face as his rage melts into sorrow and he releases Egon, shielding his hand over his eyes and bursting into a fit of sobs. 

Egon stumbles and puts a hand out to catch himself on the crumbled brick wall. He takes a moment to regain his balance and stands himself up from the wall, leaving behind a smeared handprint of your blood. He looks down at himself. The entire front of his jumpsuit is stained a deep red, wet and sticking to his skin, clammy in the cool nighttime air. 

For a brief moment he fears that he's going to faint. The acrid scent of your blood hits him all at once, powerful and unavoidable.  It forces its way into his nose, down his throat, choking him, burning metallic and sour on the back of his tongue, clotting his airway. He bows his head, gagging, unable to catch his breath. His lungs burn for air but he can't breathe. His chest spasms. The world spins rapidly around him and his vision blanks as his entire body screams for air, but he can't breathe, he can't breathe, he can't breathe. 

Egon sinks to the ground. His throat constricts, the muscles in his stomach cramp, he gags, unable to breathe. He gasps in a desperate attempt to draw in any amount of air. His mind races: you've lost too much blood; you're in critical care; there's a very real chance that the bleeding can't be controlled; there's a very real chance that you're going to die.

There's a very real chance that you're already dead. 

Egon clutches his stomach. He doubles over, gags, and retches into the grass. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☆.｡:*.｡.:*☆ ༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Ray trots over to Egon from the Ecto-One, relief glowing on his flushed, tear-stained face. “Winston called. He says that they’ve got her stabilized and that she’s doing well with the transfusions.”

Egon looks up from the broken spectrometer he was tinkering with and nods, trying and failing to force one of his typical half-smiles. 

“I also don’t think any of us should be alone right now. You should come spend the night with Janine and me.” He jerks his head in the direction of Peter, who’s seated far away on the curb with a blanket and a thermos, struggling not to nod off. “Dana’s already on her way for Peter.”

Egon shakes his head. 

“Can I give you a ride home in the Ecto-One?”

Egon shakes his head. 

“Hey, I know we’re all worried, but YN’s well taken care of. Now it’s time to make sure we are, too.”

“I will be, Ray.” His own voice sounds hollow and dull in his head, as if it’s coming from behind a wall.  

“Sure, Egon, but right now is what my mind’s on.”

Egon stays silent.  

“Hey.” Ray pulls him into a tight hug. “She’s gonna be okay, and so are you.” He gives Egon a few rough pats on the back and releases him, planting a firm hand on his shoulder. “If you change your mind at any time, just give Janine or me a call, okay? No hour is off-limits. I'll come around to check on you tomorrow. Needless to say, Janine’s canceling the next few days of calls.” 

Egon nods, mutters a half-hearted ‘thanks’, and watches Ray walk over to Peter, who’s gripping the thermos in his hands so tightly that his knuckles are white. After a few moments, Egon stuffs his hands deep into his coat pockets and begins the three mile walk home. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾☆.｡:*.｡.:*☆ ༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The apartment is cold and quiet when he finally arrives. He easily navigates his way to the bathroom through the pitch black and cringes with the harshness of the light he flicks on. He crams all of his soiled clothing to the bottom of the trash can, jumpsuit and boots and all, and turns on the shower as hot as he can stand, only remembering to take off his glasses when they fog up from the hot steam that hits his face. He steps in and watches your blood melt off of his body and wash down the drain. The water is almost unbearably scalding, but he can’t stop shivering and finishes up as quickly as he can. 

Your scent still clings faintly to the bedsheets when he crawls into bed. It's always been soothing in a way, relaxes some of the tension in his tired joints as he clutches one of your pillows to his chest. He’s exhausted but doesn’t sleep. Instead, he stares blankly out the bedroom window for hours, staring at the pitch-black nothingness outside. 

He's still shivering a bit when he gets out of bed. It’s odd being alone so early in the morning. He tends to wake up much earlier than you, but can always depend on you being the first thing he’d see in his day, cozy and curled up next to him. Despite being alone, he instinctively takes caution to be quiet as he moves about the apartment during this hour, a long-built habit to keep from waking you up. He’s adjusted almost every facet of his everyday life to include you in some way since the two of you became an official couple.

In the kitchen, he absentmindedly grabs two mugs from the cupboard before pausing and putting one back. 

He wants to see you. It's close to five in the morning, still completely dark outside, but he abandons his empty mug on the counter, grabs a coat, and heads out the door. 

The morning is abnormally cold as he treks the two miles to the hospital, hands stuffed deeply in his pockets. The still icy air almost immediately seeps through his clothing like wet paper, chilling him to the bone. He shivers, shoulders hunched and nose stinging from the biting breeze as it carries away the frosted clouds of his breathing. By the time the hospital comes into view, the frigid sun is concealed behind a heavy overcast, bathing the city in a gloomy shade. 

The warmth of the hospital heating system almost brings a sigh of relief as he walks inside, past the empty reception desks and to the elevators. 

The charge nurse doesn't even glance up from her lewd romance novel as Egon strides behind her desk and grabs the clipboard, quickly scans it for your name, and rapidly walks down the hall towards your room.

He raises his hand to knock, but hesitates. Part of him fears seeing you, what condition you might be in, your reaction to his presence, or accidentally waking you up. 

A muffled laughter rings dully from the inside of your room, weak and tired-sounding, but unmistakably you. Your voice, which normally blooms warm and light in his chest, seems to fill him with an almost oppressive sense of dread that tightens in the back of his throat. He forces himself to take a breath and blinks back the stinging in his eyes. He came here for a reason and he’s going to go through with it. He knocks. 

“Come in.” 

He walks inside. You’re propped up in your bed on top of a mound of hospital pillows, snickering at a particularly crass magazine gifted to you by the charge nurse. Your entire face brightens at the sight of him. “Hey, Spengs! Did you come here from the lab? You’ve got a lab coat on.”

Your statement throws him for a loop and he looks down at himself. Indeed, in his absentmindedness, he grabbed a lab coat instead of a regular one. That explains why he was so cold on the walk⁠—a lab coat was nothing against the frigid New York winter. 

You laugh weakly. “Did you disguise yourself as a medical doctor to sneak in here? Is that why you've got your lab coat on? It's not even six in the morning yet. Visitors aren’t allowed for another three hours.”

It takes him a moment to summon his voice as he shuts the door behind himself. "I wanted to see you."

You smile bashfully and dog-ear the magazine, setting it aside as Egon stiffly sits in the chair beside your bed. “Winston stayed with me for a while. I sent him home to get some sleep. Had to pull a few teeth to convince him.” 

You grab his hand and gnaw very lightly on his wrist, trying to get his usual reaction of charmed annoyance, but he quietly accepts it without fuss. In your thin haze of drugs you very briefly consider actually sinking your teeth into his arm to get a rise out of him, but before you can decide on violence he gently grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your palm. 

He’s a bit taken aback at how frigid your hand feels and holds it tightly to his face. Your touch, normally so warm, is icy-cold, sending a dreadful shiver down the back of his neck. Lowered body temperature, cold skin⁠—symptoms of someone suffering from severe blood loss. His breath hitches and he struggles to gulp it down, forces himself to breathe deeply and deliberately through his nose to keep himself steady as tears start welling in his eyes. 

You reach up with your other hand and caress his face, stroke his cheek with your thumb, run your fingers through his thick hair. “You haven’t slept at all, have you?” you ask quietly, noting the darkness under his eyes, the aching exhaustion written so plainly on his face.

He shakes his head, still holding your cold hand tightly to his face with both of his, as if warming it back up with his own body heat would breathe some energy back into you.

Your sleeve slips down to your elbow, revealing the thick swathes of bandages layered across the entirety of your forearm, stained rusty in several spots with dried blood, the empty IV cannula taped to the inside of your elbow. 

His resolve shatters. A sob spasms in his throat and the tears burning in his eyes begin to spill over. He rips his gaze away from you, ashamed. 

“Spengs?” You tilt his head a bit to face you. 

He reluctantly meets your eye, clenching his jaw as tears run down his cheeks, utter despair etched on his tired face. “I’m sorry…”

Your heart plummets to the pit of your stomach. You’ve never seen him cry before.

He swallows, trying to compose himself as tears continue flooding down his cheeks. He swallows again, harder, failing to suppress the lump built up in his throat, unable to force out any more words.

“Hey, hey, hey," you coo, stroking his wet cheek with your thumb. "It's going to be okay, Spengs. It's going to be alright." 

He shakes his head and accidentally knocks his glasses askew against your hand. This was his fault. This entire thing was his fault. “Y⁠—...I didn’t…I⁠—...I’m sorry," he chokes out between gasps. "I’m sorry.” Another sob breaks from his lips and he lowers his head. 

You’re saying something to him but he doesn’t comprehend it through the thoughts reeling through his head. He was the one who coerced you into going when you didn’t want to. He was the one who put you in danger. He was the reason you were so badly injured, and, when you turned to him for help, he did nothing. He did nothing. 

He falls to his knees and his glasses clatter to the floor. He clutches your hand to his face so tightly that it’s almost painful, loudly and openly sobbing, unable to catch his breath as his entire body spasms with the force of his cries. 

He feels your arm weakly reach around his shoulder and struggle to try and slowly pull him forward. He releases your hand and leans fully against you, wraps his arms tightly around your middle and buries his face into your neck. He wants to be close to you. He wants to be as close to you as he possibly can, to feel your presence, to feel you alive and pressed against him. 

Your scent, normally so comforting, is muddied beneath the strange smells of the hospital, of plastic, latex, cotton bandages, greasy topical medications. And, beneath it all, the sour, metallic tang of blood, of how closely you came to death. Panic bursts in his chest. He tightly clutches you to the point that his hand cramps and he nearly tears through the thin fabric of your hospital clothes. His breath grows shallow, rapid, frantic, desperate as he labors more and more to draw air into his lungs. 

“Egon. Egon, Egon, breathe,” you say gently, slowly. “Breathe. Breathe, sweetheart. I’m here. You’re here.” 

He struggles to follow your instructions as you guide him through his breathing, very gradually calming him down until eventually, his harsh sobs die down to feeble, exhausted weeping. Relieved a bit, you release him from your grip and lie back on the bed, completely spent. “Come up and lie down with me, Spengs.”

He does as you ask and crawls onto the bed, lays his head on your chest. You wrap your arms around him and rest your cheek on top of his head, gently running your fingers through his plushy hair, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “It’s going to be okay.”

Things might be okay eventually, but he fears they’ll never be the same. “You should be angry…” he croaks. 

“No, no. God, no.” You run your fingers along the bottom of his jaw, feeling the prickle of fresh stubble. “Do you remember when you were working on that new neutrino wand prototype?” you ask. “The one that you’d worked on for almost a year? We were both in the lab and I went over to the cabinet for something and accidentally knocked it onto the floor, and it just exploded into a million pieces all over the room. Of course the noise got your attention, and you looked over and saw a year’s worth of work completely destroyed on the ground, and when you looked at me I just started crying. Just full-on celebrity tabloid ugly crying. I felt so bad that I ruined something you put so much effort and time into, and I was so scared that you were going to be absolutely furious. 

“But, you weren’t. You came over to me from your desk, crunching all the little pieces under your shoes, and you sat me down, and you held my face in your hands, and you kissed my forehead, and you spent so long answering the same question over and over again that you weren’t angry until I calmed down.” 

He remains quiet and blinks slowly, staring blankly at nothing through clouded eyes as tears flow down the side of his face, soaking into the fabric of your shirt. You cradle his head to your chest, holding him just a bit more tightly. You lean forward just a bit and graze your lips lightly across his brow, planting a small, delicate kiss. A bit chapped, but warm, soft. Gentle. 

Everything about you is so gentle. His own hands are rough and calloused and scarred, so often sporting a new cut or burn, always covered in ectoplasmic filth or soot, and most recently, blood. Your hands, so delicate and small compared to his, now caress his face with trembling, weak fingers. You absentmindedly trace the contours of his face: his brow, the bony bridge of his nose, his stubbled cheek, wipe away drying tears with a delicate thumb. 

Guilt wells in his chest. You’re the one who almost died, who has weeks of pain and recovery to endure, who’s permanently scarred for the rest of your life, yet he’s the one seeking comfort from you. He closes his eyes, fresh tears rolling down the side of his face. "I'm sorry." 

"Spengs…" you mutter, wiping your thumb under his eye. "Just a couple of days for observation and a few more IV antibiotics and I should be good to go." 

That’s not the point, he wants to say, but he’s far too tired to pursue that line of dialogue. He hiccups. Fatigue begins bearing down on him, weighing heavily on his entire body.

“Try to get some rest,” you say quietly. “You'll feel better.” 

For a while the two of you lay in complete silence, only occasionally broken by a sniffle from Egon or a soothing hush from you. He gradually grows heavier in your arms as sleep finally begins overtaking him. Then, almost inaudibly, he asks, "What would you have done?"

The question sends an unpleasant shudder down your spine. "I don't know. I never want to find out the answer to that."

The two of you fall back into silence. Drowsiness starts creeping onto you. You stretch your jaw into a wide yawn and nuzzle your face into his hair, relishing him in your embrace as the two of you slowly begin drifting off. 

"You’re not angry?" His voice, tinged with stress and uncertainty, tugs you back to wakefulness.

"Of course not," you say airily, groggy with fatigue as another yawn swells in your throat. “I don’t mind saying it as many times as you need to hear it.”

Another silence. 

“Egon,” you mutter almost inaudibly, spending the last of your energy before you’re overtaken by sleep. “I love you.” 

Tears well in his eyes, but he takes a deep, slow breath, and they dissipate. “I love you

Part 2

ao3 link

[tinyvesselhearts]

Thing Is (Protective Egon x You)

It’s a part of a slightly larger collection of one-shots but I’m pretty proud of this one so here it comes:

Egon x Reader/You No Y/N Rating: Teen and Up Audiences (minor injuries)

Thing is, he’s become too observant.

Egon knows you come to the station around 10 A.M. There’s no jumpsuits, car or equipment to maintain so you start with the kitchen. It’s not exactly a part of your duties: the guys are fully capable of washing their own, especially since they barely eat in. Yes, okay— he’ll agree none of them is a dishwashing phenomenon and they hardly ever manage to finish breakfast before their first call— but you can just leave the plates there and nobody would bat an eye.

You do it though. Without a word.

On Tuesday, while showing you monochromic ectoplasm bonds Type IV (Egon prompts it himself these days, no bribe included), he notices the skin on your hands is chapped. He knows you work with nasty chemicals while taking care of Ecto- 1 but you’ve always worn latex gloves— he’s seen them hanging on the heater, next to whichever colorful apron you chose for the day. The only time you work with your bare hands is while cleaning the kitchen. Wiping the counters. Scrubbing the sink.

You’re busy looking at the molecules of Type IV, while he does some research on what he calls The Collective. The sight of your dry fingers keeps nagging him though— there’s no way a simple detergent affects the cells so much— so after replaying all possible scenarios in his head, he can’t take it anymore. He pauses.

“You don’t have to do the dishes”, he states out of the blue. “You know that, right?”

 “Mhm.”

“Why, then?”

You swivel in your chair and look at him.

“I mean, why not? It’s like 20 minutes, tops. You come back to a tidy home and it costs me nothing.”

But it does cost you your hands, he wants to say. There’s no way it doesn’t sound creepy though, even by his standards, so he just acknowledges that with a hum and a thank you. Arguing is pointless. You’ll do whatever you want anyway. He’s not even here to make sure you take care of yourself while on duty.

What he does, however, is wait till the evening and inspect what that low- budget detergent is made of. He’s quick to spot the culprits. It’s a nasty fragrant and the artificial dye. No wonder your skin is irritated. That thing would be harmless if, instead of using your hands, you scrubbed the plates with a metal rod as a part of your morning routine.

Egon buys a new liquid— top shelf this time— and adds some stuff of his own. Some softeners. A nice scent. He pours it into the old bottle so that you don’t think twice. Just a precaution. In case you realized it wasn’t your soap and look for that terrible, skin- devouring slime. He places it near the tap. Then waits.

Over the following weeks he’ll diligently observe how your skin gets better every time you come down to the lab. He’ll see the rough edges get smooth. Fractured knuckles seal shut. Nails regain their shine.

He’ll notice how gentle your fingers are when you secure his slides under microscopic lens.

👻

On this particular Thursday everything goes wrong.

There’s a Class 2 Free- Floating Vapor who’s wildly attracted to funky shapes and vivid hues. It’s the ethereal kind: one whose molecular structure fluctuates. He pries on wallpapers, bedsheet and clothes, tears them up and snugs like an unhinged puppy. Catching him is comparable to squeezing slippery soap. What complicates things even more is that Peter has a clumsy day so even though they manage to trap the ghost, it slips out at the station because somebody forgot to follow a few basic safety tips. Cool. It’s all cool.

Egon knocks at the laundry room’s door. He enters. You’re inside, hanging freshly washed suits.

“We’ve got a situation”, he informs. “Please, wait in here for a few minutes.”

“Oh? You guys need help?”

“We’ll handle this. Venkman let the vapor out. It’s nothing.”

“Oh. Okay.” You straighten up and smooth your apron (it’s the yellow one, embroidered with bees— you wear it when you feel especially joyful and of course it’s got to be today). “I can help, if—”

“No. It’s all under relative control. Don’t worry about it.”

He waits for you to nod, then steps out and closes the door. Relative. Great phrasing, Doctor Spengler.

He powers up the proton pack. The faster they get rid of the ghost, the better. You won’t have time to get creative.

Peter’s pressing a gauze to his nose. It’s bleeding. Not from within though, looks like a cut and that’s relevant: if the vapor is capable of transferring molecules and strengthen bonds within different body parts at will, it could thicken its limbs enough to cause physical harm to humans. Class 2 are rarely aggressive— annoying, yes, destructive as well— but they aren’t interested in manhunt. Maybe this one’s been triggered enough to choose attack for defense.

“Who’s got the trap?”

“I do!” Winston kicks the pedal. “The stream won’t hold long enough though!”

Ray’s standing at the other side of the room, protecting their dear vehicle.

“We should stream it together from different angles! It won’t be able to wiggle out! Let’s try that and move him towards the trap in sync!”

“Baby, you’re lucky I’m a terrific dancer”, says Peter and aims at the ghost.

Egon assesses the situation. The vapor stays too close to the reception for their benefit— the massive wooden desk is going to be a great shield for the specter if they aren’t precise enough. The deeper they go within the station, the more damage they’ll cause. That’s not worth it. Too much precious stuff to risk.

They could try a bait. They’ll have to find some red herring and place it far away: ideally, further into the garage, near the door. Lots of space, no hiding spots. Relative damage control. Cheap repairs. No casualties, either.

He notices Janine’s scarf hanging over her chair: conspicuous, extravagant and frilled, covered in a cheetah pattern. A perfect lure for the ghost. It’s still Janine’s— and she’s upstairs, taking cover in Tully’s office— and once it’s all over she’ll absolutely hate them for destroying her garment. She’d cut their ears off for it, if she could. Luckily, she’s too small for that. Radical.

“Yo! How can I help you, boys?”

For the Mother of—

Egon turns his head. It’s you— standing right at the door in that silly, yellow apron— because of course you are. Hell, you’re an embodiment of what a perfect live bait looks like in this scenario. However, your position (from the strategic point of view) is the absolute worst. You should either take off that apron immediately or move away— and move fast.

“Gear up!” Winston shouts to you. “He’s actually dangerous! Scratched Peter in the face!”

“Guess I was just too pretty!”

The vapor dashes in your direction. It’s quick. You grunt, try to dodge and fail miserably: its slimy claws reach your neck and graze your shirt in a failed attempt to rip off the perky apron. You growl and crouch before Ray chases the ghost off with a stream.

“Ah. Funk. Shite.”, you grunt. “I’ll get the proton pack!”

Egon can’t fucking believe it.

He eases down the proton rod and appears in front of you in a few long strides. No questions, no warning, he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder like a sack— then proceeds to literally carry you away from the scene.

“What the heck?!” You yelp. “Let me go!”

“Over my dead body.”

Ray and Winston struggle to aim, Peter does more talking than shooting— as usual— so the vapor dissipates and the streams slide off of its ethereal body. The moment isn’t ideal for being a knight in the shining armor but it’s as good as any. Your safety is more important than a burned wall or Peter’s personal opinion (he surely has one— he saw you two— he did a double take).

All of that is irrelevant. What matters though, is that Egon is aware.

You’re close. Locks brush against his ear and your breath is hot on the nape of his neck. The air tingles his tiny hairs. It tickles, it’s distracting and he tenses up, fingers finding their way into your hair. Then, the scent of soap he planted for you reaches his nostrils— and it’s good, it means you’re taken care of. Your hands clutch his jumpsuit— on his shoulder blades, on his chest— and pull at his damp undershirt just because it’s there, right underneath, warm and soaked with sweat.

You’re holding on to him for dear life. You’re around him, everywhere, all at once and it takes every ounce of his willpower to stay focused.

He lets you go in the far corner of the garage. You slide off. Your numb hands linger on his patch and under his collar. Eyes lock.

For a split second he fights an urge to lean in— to press his forehead to yours, to feel you’re right there, safe, away from danger. He almost does. Then he sees blood on your collarbone and his face turns stark.

“What’s that?”

“Um”, you look downwards and tap the stain with your finger. “I don’t know.”

“He scratched you.”

“ I mean, it doesn’t hurt now, so—”

“He scratched you.”

Something within him shifts. He’s all fire and smoke, jaw set, breath hot, eyes sharp and unrelenting. His fists clench, knuckles whiten, a wave of heat reaches his ears— and in this moment he barely recognizes himself.

“Egon…?”

“Winston!” He yells. “Set the trap!”

Your hands grab his sleeve but the grasp is weak, unsure— as if you wanted to anchor him before he does something stupid. Egon vaguely registers that. The fabric slips away from your grip and he strides away, gaze fixated on the ghost. He supports the proton gun on his arm and aims.

Ray picks up on this change of demeanor immediately.

“Ho, someone’s pissed!” He chants. “We’re shooting on three!”

Peter seems to come round as well. He tosses the bloody gauze on the floor (the wound he got is a sleek, clean line, it doesn’t seem deep) and clenches his teeth.

“You envied my pretty face, huh?”

What happens next is difficult to put in the correct order. There’s a loud shriek, a flash of streams coming from at least three proton packs, a loud zap and a warm glow. There’s also a burnt smudge on the ceiling, stretching all the way from garage door to the reception desk, an armchair on the first floor that’s set of fire and — for some inexplicable reason— two bulbs have just exploded.

Janine and Louis run out of the office. Everybody’s quiet. Thick smoke comes from the trap and the air is still until the red light on it switches on.

“…It’s inside.” Winston sighs. “Are you guys okay?”

Ray does a one over. The overall damage is considerable but Janine’s already prancing around the armchair with an extinguisher and the ceiling— well, it’s not like any client ever pays attention to the ceiling, right?— so everything’s taken care of. Peter extends a thumb in a weak attempt to show it is, in fact, alright.

“Yeah. I’ll go get changed. More than enough for today.”

Egon turns his head towards you. You’re still standing right where he put you: far away from the scene, unsure and anxious. His head is still burning. How stupid of you, how reckless not to listen to his request— how much unnecessary stress, how much disaster— what an idiotic move to ignore an explicit warning—

Ray is a perceptive guy.

“I’ll handle the trap”, he says and leaves the garage first.

👻

You take off the apron, blood splatter tainting a bee you embroidered yourself.

“…Oh. I doubt it’ll come off.”

Egon lets you into his lab and closes the door.

“It will”, he assures you. “Here, change. I won’t look.”

“Thank you.”

He lets you swap your ripped shirt for one of his sweaters while he skims over the first aid kit. There must be some ectoplasmic residue around the gash. If he gets a good quality sample, he could run a few tests and see how the molecular transfer works in reference to changing the ghost’s state of matter. It’s a first. If they could figure it out, that would be a real breakthrough.

“I’m, uh. I’m decent.”

Egon picks up a petri dish, a bottle of antiseptic spray and some gauze pads. He sits in a chair right in front of you, rolls up his sleeves and leans over to inspect the wound.

A long red line runs over your collarbone, up to your neck. It’s fresh, red splatters specked across your throat and chest but despite the impact, it doesn’t seem dangerous. He’s relieved to see the other end of the scratch— it’s right above your chest. The hem of his sweater hangs a little loose on you, allowing easy access. Thank God for small mercies.

The light is dim. It’s the blue glow he uses when he needs to focus. Crisp air wraps around him like a blanket. Drawers and tools are outlined by its faint radiance, particles of dust only fleeting in proximity— the specks move slowly, lazily, as if they had the whole time in the world.

Egon takes his time as well. He disinfects his hands, picks up a cotton stick and leans into your personal space.  Your body radiates with heat. He chooses not to think about it: instead, he works around the wound and collect samples. The tip gathers some of the ectoplasm left by the attack. He’s careful to avoid pressing against the slit— only prods at its edges, makes sure none of the cotton fibers get into your wound. Fingers brush against your neck. Your skin is warm.

You look up.

“Are you mad at me?”

“I don’t know what I am at you”, he exhales, then puts away the sample. He takes a scrap of gauze and soaks it with spirits. “It may sting.”

The cloth touches your skin. It’s cold and it burns.

“Eesh. Oof.” You nod. “Yeah, that’s the feeling.”

“Familiar?”

“Ah. Scout camps. We’d get a lot of these. Scraping your way through the woods and all that.”

Egon frowns, meeting your gaze.

“Weren’t your uniforms designed to protect you from those?”

“A cotton button- down skirt? Knee- length? Seriously.”

“…Okay, I can see your point”, he snorts— and you chuckle too, glint in your eyes — and it’s warm in his chest.

He cleans the gash way longer than necessary. Your skin seems so fragile up close. Drops of liquid sanitizer glide against it, guiding him through the task. He runs over them with gentle pads again and again, smearing the antiseptic into an even coat. Delicate swipes leave smudges, which’s irregular lines shapes gleam on your skin. The wound looks a little better. It’s a cue. He doesn’t stop.

“Egon, I’d like to thank you for all of this”, you almost whisper. “I know I screwed up. I’m terribly sorry. I should have been wiser and stay where I was told.”

He frowns. He was mad at you before you came down to the lab. He should still be mad at you but hormones are like tides— they rise and retract, they take over, then dissipate— and he’s just not feeling it anymore.

“We’re good”, he murmurs. “I’ve neglected the issue myself. I should teach you how to use our equipment. Accidents will happen. It’s imperative you’re capable of defending yourself.”

“You’re the experts though. I keep forgetting my place.”

“You’re not bound to a place. You’re a person, not a pet.”

There’s a slight swift in your expression. He doesn’t look— doesn’t dare, really, his demeanor is all too bothering— but your whole body relaxes, as if dead weight just fell off your chest.

“It’s been a long day but at least you got the sample, right? A silver lining?”

Egon looks at you. He’s met with a smirk but— heck, it must be the adrenaline residue or some unusual distress (he’s gotten considerably better at reading your emotions as of late)— he can’t interpret whether you’re being honest or sarcastic. Thin ice. Better make sure.

“Um. Was it wrong of me?”

“Silly”, you let out a laugh. “Not at all. I’m glad, as stupid as it sounds.”

He shivers but manages a smile. It’s chemistry or biology, one of the two. Ridiculous.

Both of you fall into comfortable silence. He finishes patching you up, while you’re just sitting there, looking over the lab. Your neck is close. Breaths mingle. It’s soft and warm. He could stay like that for the rest of the evening but there’s only so much proximity he can go away with (or handle) at once so he leans back.

“That’s all. Keep it dry. Clean in again before you go to bed.”

“Thanks. I’ll go put your jumpsuits in the laundry.”

“Yes.”

He raises from the chair but feels a grasp on his hand. He looks at you and freezes. You seem to purposefully avoid his gaze but dare to lift his fingers to your lips in a gentle motion. He’s not prepared for this. His mind is blank. He—

“No. I mean it”, you press your cheek into his knuckles, eyes squeezed shut. “Thank you for taking care of me, Egon. I owe you again. At this rate, I’d better start paying it off or I’m going to be in debt for a long time, huh?”

No, he wants to say. You owe me nothing, but he can’t utter a word so he watches you stand up, offer a smile and leave, snugly wrapped in his sweater.

There are some noises upstairs. They’re foggy. Later, he’ll be pretty sure Ray called his name at some point but the only thing he registers tonight is loud white noise, an ache in his ribs and warmth in his temple. He carries it to the kitchen, where he eats eggs for supper— then bathroom, where he takes a long shower— then his bed when he goes to sleep. He leaves his flip- flops on the floor but the feeling slides with him under the covers.

It’s late. It should go away, dissipate, but it doesn’t. He counts sheep, tries meditating and stretches every breath to ridiculous extends. It doesn’t help though: it’s still there, strong, unrelenting, it keeps him awake for at least two more hours.

He’s not stupid. He recognizes the symptoms.

He just doesn’t recall struggling with them so damn much.

_____

For those who have already read it: SORRY for posting it again, I just wanted to make it easier for people who exclusively use Tumblr to get to know this piece of fanfiction ;__; Have a great day, thanks for putting up with my antics, I LOVE YOU ALL

[gentle-dragons]

Why We Don't Go Alone (Egon/Reader Discipline)

Pairings: Egon Spengler/Reader (fem)

Tags: Hurt/comfort, one shot, spanking, discipline, forgiveness

Warning(s): Corporal punishment (I always try to handle this realistically and tastefully...this is NOT smut), maybe a bit OOC but IMO this type of scenario could bring these characteristics out in a person.

Word Count: 2,570

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You flung open the passenger door of Ecto-1 and leapt into the seat, slamming the door behind you. Egon started the engine and peeled away from the scene, tires screeching on the asphalt. You had just enough time to look behind you and see the headstones of the cemetery explode into dust, billowing out like a mushroom cloud. A faint blue aura hung over the rubble, wavering in the night sky. It wasn't pursuing you.

Your heart was racing, thudding painfully in your chest as you tried to catch your breath.

"Put your seatbelt on." came a tense voice to your left.

You turn your head and finally look at him. His eyes were fixed on the road ahead, knuckles white as they gripped the wheel. His jaw was clenched and his eyebrows were furrowed down below the rim of his glasses, one lens cracked down the center. Dust and debris covered his hair and face.

"Egon..." you began, your voice already shaking with regret.

"Put...your seatbelt on...now." came the same solemn voice, tinged with something else.

You looked again, a new fear rising. Was he hurt?!

A quick assessment reassured you that there seemed to be no outward injuries, thank god.

You wanted desperately to explain.

"Egon, please don't be angry. I thought I could handle--."

*SCREEEE!!!*

You were suddenly jolted to the left as he made a sharp right turn off the dark country road, coming to a hard stop in front of a field.

Egon unbuckled himself and got out of the driver's seat. He marched around the front of the Ecto-1 in four long strides, the headlights casting his long shadow out behind him. He reached your door, flung it open, and hauled you sharply out of your seat.

Taken completely off guard, your mind still rushing to catch up to what was going on, Egon then spun you both completely around. He dropped into your now empty seat and yanked you towards him, lifting his right foot onto the running board. You felt another forceful tug and gasped as you fell forward, landing squarely across his now raised right knee, his left arm gripping you by the waist, pulling you tightly against his torso.

You found your voice at last.

"What are you---ahhh!!" A searing, stinging jolt of pain on your backside took the words out of your mouth.

Oh you had really, really messed up this time.

You turned your head to look at Egon's face, which was now set in a most determined expression, and your eyes widened when you saw a swiftly descending palm. Swift, sharp, burning strokes of his hand followed in quick succession that made you reel against his thighs, your own hands bracing themselves on the floorboard. The stinging was terrible...but the mortification of your position made you want to crawl into a hole and die. Tears were stinging your eyes and you could feel your throat constricting. It had never entered your realm of possibilities that one day you'd find yourself bent over the knee of Egon Spengler as he spanked you like some rebellious child!

In sheer desperation, you tried to fling your right hand back to block the oncoming palm, but all that earned you was a throaty grumble from Egon, who released your waist long enough to grab your hand in his own and pin it behind your back. He raised his knee higher and swatted the outside of your thigh! You yelped in protest and frustration.

"Owwww!! OWW! Okay, OKAY, then please stop! PLEASE!"

You wriggled as hard you could to try and free yourself from his grip on your torso. All you succeeded in doing was getting yourself pulled in tighter. 

You felt white hot anger rise up in your throat and you let out an indignant shriek of frustration.

"I'm never forgiving you for this, Egon Spengler!! Never!" You pounded your balled up fist into his thigh

He didn't react verbally to your words or your fists, but suddenly the intensity of the spanking ramped up, his hand falling faster than before. The pain had reached a crescendo and your backside felt like it had been held to a flame!

You felt panic setting in and your flight response activated as you kicked your legs frantically, trying to lessen that awful burn.

You tried in vain to reason with him.

"I shouldn't have gone alone! I know shouldn't have gone, I thought I could handle this one on my own!! OWW!! Please!!! Please let me explain!!"

Your right leg kicked out after a particularly horrid sting and you felt yourself slide backwards a few inches, your foot actually found solid ground, giving you a chance to try and push your way out from under his arm completely.

You heard him let out an exasperated breath.

He then slid his right knee out from under you and you were suddenly being yanked forward again over his left knee. He then pinned your legs between both of his before redoubling his efforts, the cracks of his palm echoing in the night air.

A sob wrenched from your chest and you clung to Egon's shin, the fight leaving your body. As you gave in an image suddenly flashed through your mind. You finally, FINALLY, realized why this was happening.

The look on Egon's face as he yelled for you to run back to the car at the cemetery. He was utterly terrified...because of you. He sped all the way here in the dark, alone, because of you. He risked his own life to save yours...because you just couldn't resist trying to show off. This was his worry and fear coming out.

Through your tears, you tried to choke out your apology.

"Egon...Egon! I sh-shouldn't have done it!! I-I-I don't know why I did it. I thought if I---"

His hand stopped in mid-air, and it was then that he finally started talking, his voice quite literally trembling with frustration, though he slowed down the spanking enough for you to be able to hear him clearly.

"Oh let's examine that, shall we? "YOU THOUGHT" No, that is exactly the issue, Y/N. You did not for one moment THINK about what you were doing here tonight! Do you have ANY idea what went through my mind when I came downstairs, saw Ray's car missing and some note from you telling me you'd gone off on your own after I IMPLICITLY told you that we never, EVER go out on calls ALONE? I thought you were already dead when I reached you!"

Every time he raised his voice, his hand came down for emphasis. He was breathing hard and you could feel his body practically trembling underneath you. He paused to push his glasses back up his nose before looking down at your shaking shoulders as you sobbed pitifully, all of the fight having left your body, your hands still gripping the fabric of his trousers.

You weren't even aware that the spanking had ended until you found yourself tugged upright, sitting on his knees. His arms suddenly wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest.

You thought you'd be so angry when it was over. You thought you'd never speak to him again. But to your surprise, you felt neither of those things, and instead threw your arms around him and buried your face deep into his chest, desperate for closeness, security.

You wept into the collar of his jumpsuit, smelling the familiar scent of ozone, dust, and sweat, felt his chest rise and fall, felt the pounding of his heartbeat. Egon held you tighter, relief flooding his brain as the endorphins kicked in, releasing the tension and fear that had been building steadily since reading your note at the firehouse not 2 hours earlier.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[HEY GUYS: Heading out to Union Cemetery. Call just came in about a weird blue haze that's been hovering over the graves at night. Just going to take some pictures and a few readings and then I'll be right back. Shouldn't take more than two hours. Borrowed Ray's car. ~Y.N]

Egon had just come up from the basement. He'd been modifying the containment grid and needed a sugar break. However, the first thing he noticed when he reached the first floor was Ray's missing car. But Ray was upstairs sleeping. Venkman was at Dana's.

He next spotted the paper taped to the bay door and skimmed it quickly, his heart rate increasing the further he read, breath catching in his throat.

"Of all the...."

For maybe the first time in his entire life, Egon Spengler acted without thinking first. He opened the bay doors, grabbed his gear from the locker, jumped into the Ecto-1, started the ignition, and sped out of the station.

He went through every possible scenario as he raced to Union Cemetery. A blue haze, the note had read. That could be a Class I or Class III entity...but without more specific details they could be dealing with practically anything. He began to speed up.

Damn it....DAMN IT... Please just let me get there before anything happens!!

He made it the cemetery in less than an hour by sheer adrenaline alone.

He had seen the haze from a mile away and by the time he reached the cemetery he could see you. He stared for only a moment in sheer terror before his instincts kicked in.

He grabbed his proton pack and hauled it over his shoulders in one swift motion as his exited the driver's seat. He slowly approached, wand at the ready, adjusting the stream to compensate for your presence.

You were hovering ten feet above the ground, the blue haze wrapped around your body like a snake, squeezing you tighter whenever you tried to move. Your vision was starting to darken, your eyes heavy....

........WHAM!!!! You felt the air leave your body in a violent rush as you landed flat on your back. As you desperately tried to gasp for air, you could see the beam of a proton stream overhead, pushing back the blue aura deep into the cemetery.

A pair of brown loafers entered your field of vision, and you saw Egon Spengler standing over you, eyes locked on the aura, but his voice directed at you.

"Y/N! Can you stand?!" he yelled over the wind, which had picked up and was hurling dust and rocks through the air, making your eyes burn.

"Y/N!! I need you to get back to the Ecto 1 now! I'll be right behind you but you have to get--ahhh, damn it!" A flying rock had hit Egon's glasses, cracking the lens but thankfully not his eye.

You finally drew a gasping breath and flew to your feet, but you stopped short and stared in awe and horror as the haze began to pulse its aura into the sky, like a beacon.

"Y/N, do what I say and RUN!!!"

You snap out of your trance and turn, spying the Ecto 1 just outside the gates. You sprint as fast as you can to the passenger door, flinging it open and leaping inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sobs were slowing down. You closed your eyes, exhaustion taking over. He loosened his hold enough for you to shift more comfortably on his lap before resting his chin on top of your hair, muttering small meaningless sounds of comfort as your breath hitched once more.

A few quiet minutes passed this way. Egon thought you might have drifted off to sleep so he peered down at your face, surprised to find you looking back at him, eyes red, remorse etched all over your features.

"You were right, Egon. It was so stupid of me to think for one minute I could go out alone. I thought I knew what I was dealing with. I thought it was just some harmless Class I."

Egon cleared his throat sharply and peered at you, his expression stern.

"Y/N, what you've just said is the exact reason I pulled over. I was just going to take you back to the station until I heard you say you thought you could have handled this on your own. For weeks now I've noticed you trying to sidestep some of the rules we've set in place at work. I thought you were more insightful than this! There is NO SUCH THING as "harmless" in this field of study. There is no such thing as "harmless" in any line of study, for that matter!"

He was right. If you had just kept your eagerness in check for one more minute and taken Ray or Egon along with you, you wouldn't be in this situation now. You just wanted to impress them, do something on your own without a chaperone for once. Show them you were a valuable part of the team, not some young rookie apprentice they had to lead by the hand. Your pride led you here. The tears started flowing again and you quickly slid off of Egon's knee, taking several steps away.

You kept your back to him and swiped your eyes angrily.

"You're right. I have no business being in this line of work if my choices are putting myself and others in danger. When we get back I'll pack up my things and turn over my gear. I'm sorry I risked so much this evening."

Two hands gently took you by the shoulders and turned you around. Egon knelt down to your eye level.

"Y/N, look at me please."

You shook your head swiftly, so angry at yourself, your foot stomping the ground in frustration.

"Hey, woah. Slow down, okay?" Egon soothed, pulling you back to him. "You're certainly not fired, not with all the time and effort we've put into your training, and we certainly have never viewed you as a burden, if that's what you're worked up about. You've just witnessed my rarest trait...my temper. It doesn't show up often, but you can ask Ray and Venkman about it sometimes. They've each had it directed at them at least once and it apparently left an indelible impression. And when I read your note I can't recall ever feeling as terrified in my life, and I've seen some of worst things in existence. I care about you as a colleague and I feel a certain responsibility towards you. All of that being said, don't you EVER do something like this again, because I promise you we'll wind up right back here. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, I do." You sniffled and rubbed your runny nose with your sleeve, eliciting a grimace from Egon. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. You accepted it gratefully and blew your nose.

"Keep it."

"I was going to."

"Come on, we need to get back."

You climbed back in the car, hissing when your backside hit the hard seat. Egon smirked outside your door.

"Good, hopefully the lesson will continue to occupy your thoughts on the ride home."

He slammed your door shut and walked around to the driver's side.

You thought twice about rolling your eyes at him, but then remembered something important.

"Ray's car! I left it at the cemetery!"

Egon had already climbed in and started the Ecto-1.

"It'll be fine. If my suppositions are correct, that particular entity only appears at night. We'll come back in the daytime to pick it up. YOU can apologize to Ray when we get back since YOU are the one who took it."

"Oh god, what'll he say about all of this?"

"I think you'll find the rest of your week is going to be filled with a lot of equipment cleaning."

You groaned and buckled your seatbelt, leaning your head against the window.

"....I think I'd rather just be spanked again." you muttered under your breath.

"If you'd prefer..." Egon said, opening the car door and stepping outside. You shot up when you realized he was being serious.

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding!!" you called out in a panic.

Egon peered at you and raised his eyebrow in a warning before climbing back inside, putting the car into drive, heading back to the city.

[egonspenglerishot]

i am writing your other one shot now! but i gained an idea and wanted to share hehe

so i was thinking an egon x reader where the reader has autism and they're overstimulated by everything that's going on around them and egon helps them out with it !! ( this'll make my autistic heart happy :) )

Look at his lil smile!

“Breath with me Dove”

Egon Spengler x reader

Warnings: mentions of panic attacks and overstimulation

.

.

.

You paced up and down the lab as you took short breaths. You’d been working on the mood slime for hours now. Egon, Ray and Winston were out on call so that left you and Peter. You’d tried everything to calm down, wearing a spare jumpsuit of egons, sprayed some of his cologne that you loved and even put his favorite music on but everything just seemed to overwhelm you more.

Your breathing was getting worse and you knew that it meant a panic attack was on its way. You heard the Firehouse doors open and the three men come in laughing and joking, the smell of the traps hits your nose and you gag loudly and cover your mouth. You pace faster thoughts seeping into your brain, just as Egon stepped in. Instantly he knew what was wrong and went over standing infront of you “Hello my dove…what’s wrong? Can you speak? Do you need to write it down?”

You looked up and teared up. His voice was so soft and gentle. He always was, just as you were with him. “Can I touch you?” He asked and you nodded. He led you over to the corner where he’d set up a small area for you. A couch, sensory toys he himself had made, your favorite books and a mini fridge with safe foods inside. He sat you down and sat beside you “Breath with me dove” he brought you onto his lap and played with your hair taking deep breaths.

It didn’t take you long to begin following his pattern of breathing, the smell of cologne, smoke from his fellow ghostbusters and Twinkies filled your nose and soothed you. He kissed your forehead and held you close. Why you were overwhelmed and overstimulated became very apparent when he saw a glob of mood slime on the desk. You had spilled some and gotten it on your hand, no matter how much you washed it off, it seemed to still psychologically affect you.

He checked your hands and made sure that it was all gone as he whispered sweet things into your ear. He wanted to protect you, to keep you safe from the evil entities they encountered but you were so stubborn..and he loved that about you.

[pumpkinickel]

A Mix-Up || Egon Spengler x reader

Summary: Gender-neutral reader mistakes Elon as Egon (they really do look alike from the back!)

Relationship: Egon Spengler x gn!reader (established relationship)

Word Count: 669

Warnings: Not beta-read, but other than that none! This is just fluffy slice of life

Author's Note: This is actually a little old (early 2022). I'm currently writing for a different piece of media BUT I thought "hey, why not post this now because...why not!" I've always been kinda shy to post my writing on the internet in general but to hell with it tbh ! Cringe culture must die and I love my blorbos past, present, and future too much lol

On AO3

It was a regular, snowy day in downtown New York. Ray was in the downstairs of the firehouse, fixing whatever new problem the Ecto-1 had come up with. Janine was reading some magazine with smart shopping tips while Louis was on the phone discussing taxes, the latter having piles of paperwork on his desk. Business during the holiday season usually slowed down, and that meant getting to spend more quality time with the guys. Peter and Winston were engaging in a friendly but competitive game of pool, and Egon was nowhere in sight. He mentioned something about “bringing a surprise” to the station, baffling everyone since Egon certainly wasn’t the surprise type. You sat on the couch, head propped up by your hand, watching as Peter lined up his shot.

"I never understood this game," you said with a yawn.

Winston had a small laugh and shook his head. "It's alright, kid, neither does Pete."

"Hey!" The other man said as he thrust his cue stick, completely butchering the shot in the process. "I just don't play this game often enough, alright, Z? I got no practice,"

You and Winston share a laugh at the expense of your colleague, Peter placed his hand on his chest in feigned offense. Winston took his shot, clearly doing a better job than Peter as the other man had scowled as the ball went into the hole. As the two continue playing, the sound of familiar footsteps enters the second floor. Turning your head, you smile brightly as you finally see your boyfriend Egon. His back was turned, preoccupied with refilling the snack cabinet in the kitchen. As he rummaged through the seven eleven bag, you took the chance of slowly sneaking up behind him to give a surprise hug. The two men playing pool had paused their game to watch you, amused from the sight of seeing you crouch up behind their friend.

“Gotcha!” You yelled as you wrapped your arms around Egon’s torso and chest, placing your chin on his shoulder. Unexpectedly, he was completely frozen, unlike how he would usually turn around to return the hug. Your expression quickly morphed into one of confusion as the seconds passed and he stayed completely still.

“Anyway, Elon, I want you to meet-” You whip your head to the left to see Egon standing next to Ray, both the men having mildly concerned looks on their faces.

“...(Y/N)?” The man you were hugging spoke, his voice only slightly different from Egon’s but you could tell it wasn’t your boyfriend. Hastily taking your arms off him, you spew out apology after apology, face fully red.

“I’m so sorry! God I- I should’ve known the second you didn’t hug me back I-”

Elon waved his hand with a laugh, the other guys in the room except Egon cracking up as well. “No matter, no matter, at least I know my little brother is well loved,” Elon took the liberty of pulling you in for a hug this time, and just like Egon he was surprisingly good at giving them.

Egon’s cheeks turn a light pink color from his brother’s statement as he pulls you in for a hug and forehead kiss. Elon had headed over to the billiard table to greet the two men who ended their pool game. The mood in the room turned joyous as all the guys had not seen Elon in a while, making this occasion a real treat.

“Sorry, Eggs, he really does look a lot like you,” you whispered. He smiles before putting his lips on yours, causing your face to go red once again. Getting kissed by Egon certainly did not get old no matter how many times it happens.

“It’s alright, (Y/N), I missed you too.”

Ray called out, “Hey, lovebirds! Get over here before we finish all the pizza.”

You pull away from Egon and adjust his tie, taking his hand and walking over to the others to get a fresh slice of pizza.

[tedesquire]

Hi, I am DYING to see more Egon Spengler x reader and I love your writing. There isn’t nearly enough content for him even though he’s amazing 💜💜💜

My Guy 

Pairing: Egon Spengler x gn!Reader

Contains: fluff

Masterlist Description: Your friend sets you up on a blind date. Before you can wonder if you were stood up or not, a certain doctor with a proclivity for the paranormal asks to buy your drink for you.

-

Sad eyes, that’s what Egon first noticed about you at the bar. Not the way you dressed, how you had worn your hair, or any other modifications you made to your appearance, just your eyes. They were downcast into the drink you had ordered for yourself, unsure and anxious only to fill with hope each time the door swung open, only to be disappointed again. Anyone could tell you were nervous about something with the way you kept biting your lips and each twitch of your fingers against your glass.

“Hello, hello? Earth to Egon?” Peter’s loud voice brought the taller man back to the conversation. Peter had dragged the gang out to a nearby bar hoping to drink and flirt just enough to wake up with only a slight headache in the morning. Winston was all too happy to tag along, while Ray only needed a little persuasion, Egon had to be all but dragged out of the firehouse, ever the homebody. 

“My god, Stantz, grab a knife. Egon, if you don’t answer me we’re going to give you a lobotomy in 3…2….”

“Cut it out, Venkmen.” Egon’s tone was flat, his gaze finally pulled away from your figure. “Didn’t we come here so you could flirt around or whatnot? Was I too out of it to notice every woman here reject you or what?” He snapped, drawing a chortle out of his friends.

“He’s just the best, isn’t he the best? The sweetest guy, you could always count on a fella like him and oh! We’ve lost his attention again.” Egon had drifted back to your sulking figure, missing the way Peter’s eyes slowly followed Egon’s, Ray and Winston’s soon to follow.

“Somebody’s got a stalker” Peter had positioned his mouth directly besides Egon’s eardrum, the new volume making him jump. “C’mon, you’ve been staring at that poor schmuck for twenty minutes, at least.”

“Poor schmuck?” Egon came to push up his glasses, flickering between you and Peter.

“That poor soul has been alone at the bar this whole time.” Peter shrugged, taking another sip of his beer.

“Probably waiting on a date, but it’s been too long now. I suspect they’ve been stood up.” Winston chimed in, Ray shaking his head in disappointment, his heavy brow furrowed in concern.

“Egon, scoot out of the booth, it’s time to make my move.” Peter snickered, raking a hand through his unruly hair to flatten it, straightening his tie. 

“Uh…” Egon stuttered, catching another glimpse of your sad eyes. You had pulled a compact out of your bag, double-checking your appearance. You had nothing to worry about, you were perfect. Even the thought of Peter walking up to you and throwing some line he had already used on half New York’s population made Egon cringe, quickly shutting the idea down. “No.”

“No?” Oh. He didn’t think this plan all the way through. “Oh, I see. Well, Doctor Love, why don’t you take a turn romancing?” The more Peter thought about it, the wider his grin grew. “Yeah, yeah, this is great. Put yourself out there, huh? And see if they have any supermodel friends.”

“Oh, I’m not going over there.” Egon defended, staring down at his waterglass. He didn’t care much for the taste of alcohol, usually opting to be DD. Various cries fell from Venkmen, Stantz, and Zeddemore’s lips, causing Egon to grimace. 

“You know what it’s like for us- Well, not Zeddmore.” Winston always seemed to have more luck with the dating pool. “They take one look and look somewhere else.”

“C’mon Speng, they’re probably just on the verge of desperate to go home with the next person who asks, so if you’re not going to man up then-”

“You know I don’t like what you’re insinuating-” Egon shot back, only for Ray to diffuse the tension.

“Perhaps you could buy them their next drink? If they refuse, we’ll leave. But if they take it, even to be polite, try striking up a conversation with them. You never know, Spengie.” Ray always seemed to know exactly what to say.

“You got this. You’re the man, Egon, you’re the man with the plan.” Peter very helpfully patted Egon’s shoulders like he was preparing for a boxing match. “Just remember, when in doubt, WWPVD- What Would Peter Venkman Do? It’s always worked for me.”

The flicker of annoyance in his dark eyes was gone as he rolled them, swatting Peter’s hands away and rising to his full height, smoothing down his sweater vest and slacks.

-

This is stupid. You thought glumly, feeling a familiar bitterness wrap itself around your heart. You should have never agreed to go out tonight, What was I thinking?

You know what you were thinking. You were tired of coming home to an empty apartment, tired of watching your friends talking about their significant others- and while you were happy for them, truly happy, you couldn’t help but feel bitter. Even though you tended not to base your worth on whether or not you were in a relationship, it was still an experience you were missing out on.

So when a close friend claimed she had the “perfect guy” for you, you threw caution to the wind and agreed before you could truly think about it. But now, having sat at the bar for close to a half hour past the agreed upon time, you had plenty of time to think.

What if he had taken one look at you and left?

You knew nothing else about the man other than what your friend had told you, tall, dark hair, great sense of humor. You couldn’t remember his name or what he did. Or maybe she forgot to mention it to you. You wondered what she had told him about you, and if whatever it was, was enough to persuade him to stand you up.

Or what if he was late because of an emergency, or traffic- traffic in New York could be a bitch- or what if he was at the wrong place and if you just held on a little bit longer you’d finally meet your soulmate and you’d be so glad you just waited a little bit more.

“Hello.” A deep voice pulled you out of your stupor, your eyes meeting his. Tall, rich, dark curls, a shadow of where facial hair would lie if he would let it grow. His clothes suggested a level of professionalism and care. You thought he was trying to smile but it seemed he was nervous, almost a grimace. This had to be him, right? “Can I… buy you another drink?”

“Oh!” You sat up straighter at his attention, trying to decide on an answer. He kept you waiting, you should be upset, shouldn’t you? But there was something earnest in the way he asked you if he could buy you a drink, the way he hadn’t automatically sat down to drag you into a conversation. Maybe you really were too much of a cynic, you could be forgiving- just this once. 

“That would be nice Mr….?”

“Doctor,” The word slipped out of his mouth, cringing as he realized his tone was harsher than intended, opening his mouth to apologize.

“Doctor?” You prompted, your playful tone almost making him blush.

“Just call me Egon. Egon Spengler.” He offered his hand to you, 

You gave him a smile, gesturing to the seat next to you. “Egon.” You tasted his name on your tongue, repeating it softly. “Alright, Doctor Egon, why don’t you join me?” A hint of a smile making itself known on the corner of his lips. 

You missed the group of guys in the corner slapping each other silly, ordering another round to celebrate.

-

You would have to buy your friend dinner, or curse her out, you still hadn’t decided. Well, she deserved something for setting you up with someone as wonderful as Egon but why keep him a secret for so long?

He was intelligent, as he finally coughed up he had varying degrees in parapsychology and nuclear engineering. At your insistence he mentioned a few experiments he had in mind, one about positive and negative energy infused into surrounding objects. 

“So, what does a guy like you do for fun?” You tease, leaning back in your seat. 

“I collect spores, molds, and fungus.” He blurted, ignoring the heat that instantly blossomed on his cheeks. He ruined the whole thing didn’t he? What person in their right mind would find that attractive? It’s my hobby and I enjoy it, Egon tried to remind himself, willing his insecurities to stop.

“Really? How’d you get into that?” He’s thrown off by your question, surprised you haven’t sprinted out the door and left a you-shaped layer of dust in your wake. You take his wide eyes and smile, placing a comforting pat on his hand, tracing the prominent vein there absentmindedly. “It’s not like you collect teeth or anything.” A pause. “Please, tell me you don’t collect teeth.”

His laugh startles even him, higher than his deep timbre and broken from underuse. He was still quite nervous, it was… cute. So was the way he could smile without moving his lips, just a quirk of his brow. You made you feel as if you were the most comical person on the planet.

“I promise, I don’t collect teeth or anything else of human nature. Just the spores, molds, and fungus. I have a keen interest in botany.” 

“You’re full of surprises. I had no idea you’d be this interesting.” You hum to yourself.

“I’m surprised you’re so interested.” He admitted, “What about you?” You could feel your cheeks heat up as the topic of conversation was now focused on you. 

“Well, um… What about me?” You offered.

With a serious gaze, Egon lifted his drinks to his lips, tilting his head towards you. “Do you collect human teeth and should I be worried?” He smiled into his glass, hoping the blush on his cheeks isn’t noticeable as you throw your head back to laugh.

-

“Damn, either Egon’s has serious game or Egon’s the first human this person has ever met.” Peter grumbled for show, watching the two of you laugh for what seemed like the hundredth time in less than an hour.

“Well, some people are into the “nerd” look now.” Winston shrugged, taking an opportunity to peek on you both.

“No, Egon has game, I’ve seen it.” Ray mentioned, eyes widening as Peter and Winston snapped to face him. “Just because he doesn’t need to take someone home every night doesn’t mean he can. He’s a man of science first and foremost.”

“Well, I’m a man of science too. More focused on human anatomy.” Venkman wiggled his brows raising his palm up for Winston to slap. “You wouldn’t get it, Stantz.”

“Alright, that was just clever enough to warrant a high-five.” The older man rolled his eyes, limply returning the gesture.

“Wh-” Ray stuttered, growing flustered. “I’ll have you know-”

“No time to respond, look.” Ray sighed dejectly, turning to watch you inspect your beeper, excusing yourself by pressing a kiss to Egon’s cheek to find the Bar’s telephone. Peter waved the taller man over, placing his chin on his folded hands.

“So Egon, has the alien that lives inside your cranium found a mate?”

“No, they’re intelligent and-” Egon cut himself off, truly processing his words. “No.” He hissed sharply, his palm coming up to hit the back of Peter’s head. “It’s going very well. I don’t think they know about the Ghostbusters, which is pleasant. I don’t much care for those who only pay attention after finding out we’re famous. Ray, I should commend you for your recommendation, I believe I’m-”

“Going to put a sock on the firehouse doorknob?” Winston snickered, Peter snorting into his palm.

“Going to ask them on a proper date.” Egon’s tone was flat, his mood only boosting as Ray smiled warmly. 

-

“Hey, listen, I’m so sorry, I-” Your friend rambled as soon as you had dialed her number. “I didn’t know he was going to bail. He mentioned something came up at the office and if you’d like to reschedule, I mean, I’m surprised you’re even still there and don’t let this ruin your plan of ‘getting back out there,’ remember you’re smart, sexy-”

“Woah, woah, woah, what are you talking about?”

“Walter! Walter Peck, what else could I be talking about?”

“Who?”

“The guy you were supposed to be meeting! I can’t believe he didn’t try and get in contact with you first!” She exclaimed, continuing to ramble. 

“He’s not a scientist? He doesn’t have a doctorate?” Maybe Egon was his middle name or something?

“Walter? No, he’s an inspector for the Environmental Protection Agency, what are you talking about?”

“Well, I thought…” You trailed off, turning to find Egon mingling with a group of men. His cheeks were red, waving off the men who seemed to be hyping him up. Had he been with them earlier and you didn’t notice? “I thought the guy you set me up with had shown up late. What does this Pecker guy look like?”

“Auburn hair,” Nope. “Bearded,” Nope. 

“Yeah, that’s not my guy.”

“Your guy?” She squealed, “Tell me about him, tell me!”

“I don’t have time for this,” You felt extremely flustered, hoping Egon wasn’t noticing your discomfort. “I’m on the best date of my life so far and I’m on the phone talking to you!” You relaxed a bit after hearing her laughter, promising she would get all the details later.

You were supposed to be mad? If Walter had shown up, or if you left too early, you would have never met Egon. Besides, it’s not like Egon lied to you. He never pretended he was your date, you had just assumed. 

You hung up the phone, nervously approaching the small group, plastering a smile as they brought Egon’s attention back to you.

“Hi.” You breathed, giving a small wave. “Who are your friends?” Brief introductions were made, Egon all but dragging you back to the bar after Peter kissed your hand, making you snicker.

“Is everything alright?” He referred to the phone call, looking concerned. Yeah, this is my guy. You decided, shaking your head.

“Funny story,” You began, Egon already smirking before you said anything. “I was here waiting for a blind date and when you approached… so I thought you were him. That phone call was from the friend that set me up.”

“Should I assume this is your way of telling me you wouldn’t be interested in a second excursion?” He sighed, his smile melting to cover his disappointment.

“You should never assume, Doctor.” Your hand comes to wrap around his, those beautiful rich eyes meeting yours. “I’m glad I didn’t waste my night pining over someone I’m too good for. I got to spend it with you.” He seemed a little more hopeful.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” You nod towards the exit, smiling as Egon nodded, pulling him close to your figure.

-

“Guys, is Egon cooler than me?” Peter whimpered, watching the two of you leave the bar arm in arm. A gasp fell on his lips as he watched Egon cradle your face, whispering something unknown before leaning you back into the window, lips pressing against each other hurriedly. 

“Yes.” Ray and Winston chimed, clinking their beers in triumph.

[wilders-girl]

I Collect Spores, Mold, and Fungus.

Egon Spengler x Fem!Reader

PG, fluff, but also angst. I am a sad person I cannot help myself

Mild cursing, Egon feels undeserving of reader's lauv, bro cries, reader cries, everyone cries, mutual pining but they're painfully unaware

3,428 words

Not proofread bc I'm silly 🤯

This was 100% an impulse write and it was created from the hours of 12-2 AM for a fortnight. Not my best work but I am in love with this silly goofy fellow. Ray is there!!! And mentions of the other guys too! Hope u enjoy ♡

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"So, what kind of hobbies do you have?" I meekly asked, watching Egon work from afar.

"I collect spores, mold, and fungus." He answered without skipping a beat.

I was startled at his quick answer, but responded soon enough that he wouldn't think I was judging him.

"That's quite interesting, actually." I spoke. "Do you have to take care of them like a houseplant, or something?"

Now it was his turn to look startled, glancing up at me for a moment before resuming his work.

"In a way, yes. I observe their progress as they grow and record differences between members of the same species and such."

He adjusted the dial on his microscope and changed the slide.

"Obviously, they're less demanding than a houseplant." He finished.

"I can understand that." I nodded.

"God, it seems like houseplants are allergic to tap water. Only the finest H2O for you, my liege!" I joked, shaking my head.

The corners of his mouth pulled up in a small smile, and I felt my heartbeat quicken at the sight.

A moment of silence passed before I spoke again.

"Fungi sound easier to take care of by a long shot. Do you have any favorite types?"

He paused his research and looked up at me, seemingly amazed again.

I had an apologetic expression and started to stand up from my awkward position on the couch.

"Sorry if I'm bothering you, I can go back upstairs if you'd like-."

"No!" He interjected, wide-eyed.

"Sorry. I just…" He trailed off for a second, analyzing the best way to say what he wanted to.

"I didn't expect you to actually be interested in my hobby." He spoke slowly, as if each word carried more meaning than at face value.

"I didn't think anyone cared."

"Oh, Spengs," I placed my hand on my chest. "I'm sorry. If it means anything, I'm not lying. I really do think it's interesting."

I felt a wave of sadness envelop me as I realized how he'd felt all this time. Reading between the lines, I knew what he really meant.

"I didn't think anyone cared about me."

He swallowed and locked eyes with me, his eyebrows furrowed in sincerity.

"Thank you."

His voice carried heavy emotion, very off-brand for the usually stoic scientist.

Snapping out of his trance, he got up from his desk himself and walked over to me.

"Would you like to see my favorite specimens?" His voice was quiet, very hesitant. Like if he spoke too loudly, I'd disappear.

I smiled up at him, and we made eye contact again.

"I'd love to."

I felt something change between us the moment we looked into each other’s eyes. He let his shoulders relax a little, he smiled a little wider than his typical smirk, and his gaze softened behind those thick glasses. The most insignificant changes meant so much for a man like him. I could tell, though, at that moment, that he trusted me. Somehow, this cold, unsociable man allowed me into his world, a heavily guarded fortress. All because I showed him a little bit of love. And he had no idea how much I had to give him.

After putting on sterile gloves, he carefully took a petri dish from the top rack, closest to the heat lamp, and showed me a funky looking pink fuzz.

"This," He began, a smug look appearing on his face, "Is one of my top three favorite specimens. This is fusarium oxysporum, a type of filamentous fungi that occurs most commonly as a soil-borne pathogen to many plants. This one's a tough specimen; it's survived nearly every experiment I've put it through."

I analyzed it in his hands, admiring the dark magenta color.

"Why is this one of your favorites?" I asked, looking back up at him.

He looked away in embarrassment.

"I like the color." He muttered.

I laughed softly at that.

"I expected a more scientific answer, Dr." I joked.

He sighed and looked for another specimen near the middle racks, and I laughed again at his shyness.

"Ah. There it is." He sported his signature half-smile.

He brought out a piece of a tree branch, and his eyes gleamed.

"This one is terana caerulea, also known as the velvet blue spread. It's a saprobic crust fungus commonly found on the underside of fallen trees in deciduous forests."

"I really like the texture of this one!" I looked at the specimen closely. "It really is like velvet."

"Mhm. This one was the most vivid sample I could find when Ray forced us to go camping upstate a few years back. As you can see, it's been doing pretty well, too."

I snickered at the thought of the boys, especially Egon, going camping. It just didn't sound real.

"And why is this one of your favorites, Dr?" I teased.

He looked down at me and smiled.

"I like the color."

I laughed again, missing the look of adoration he sent me as I did.

"Is it your favorite color?" I asked once I regained my composure.

Looking away quickly to hide the fact he was looking so intently at me, he nodded.

"I guess it is."

I kept that in the back of my mind. Just in case I needed that information someday.

He discarded his gloves, washed his hands and walked back over to his desk, and I followed, standing a polite distance from him. I needed to tell him something.

"Hey, Spengs?" I quietly asked.

He turned around and raised an eyebrow, leaning on the desk.

I fidgeted with the ring on my little finger.

"I really like talking to you, you know. I think you're great."

I paused, looking at the floor.

"I guess it's because you treat me like an equal. I guess more like an actual human being if we're comparing you to Venkman. But, like, I never feel stupid or out of place when I'm around you. It's the opposite, actually. I feel really comfortable around you. You make me really happy, Egon."

I smiled at the ground, feeling as though I'd just run a marathon. My face was terribly overheated, I could feel it. For a second, I regretted this random burst of confidence and wanted to crawl into a hole and rot so maybe he'd collect the fungus growing on my dead body.

I looked up at him for a quick second and saw him with furrowed brows and pursed lips. Tears were threatening to spill over his eyes as he looked away from me.

I automatically assumed the worst and let my arms hang limp at my sides in my shameful retreat upstairs. I did too much.

"Aw, Spengler, I'm sorry -"

I was cut off by the feeling of arms wrapping tightly around my torso in a hug before I could take a step away.

I was shocked. It took me a couple of seconds to realize what was going on and melt into the sensation.

He shook gently in my arms as silent sobs escaped him.

I closed my eyes and whispered sweet nothings to him while rubbing circles on his back. It probably looked a little awkward from an outsider's perspective since he was bent so far over my smaller frame, but I wouldn't have had it any other way.

For a moment, I tried to discard my feelings for him. I told myself he needed me as a friend at that moment, and blinked back a few tears of my own as I realized a friend was all he wanted me as, selfish as it was in that moment.

I tried to calm the fluttering in my heart as he held me even closer and let out a shaky sigh.

"I'm sorry, I should have asked -"

It was my turn to cut him off now.

"Hey, don't be sorry. You're alright. I'm here for you." I spoke softly in the crook of his neck.

He pulled away, to my dismay, and immediately looked at the ground, upset at himself.

"This is completely irrational of me, I'm truly very sorry." He mumbled.

I reached a hand out towards his, silently asking permission to hold it.

He hesitantly took my shaky hand in his cold one.

"I should be the one to apologize, Egon. I brought it up out of nowhere, and it was just weird of me to say. I'm sorry for making things weird. I just wanted you to know that you're appreciated, and I really do think you're worth my attention and time.

He whispered my name.

"You make me happy too." He was still looking down, but a bit of the sadness was erased from his eyes.

"Ever since I met you, you've brought me nothing but happiness in my life. Nobody really tries to understand me like you do. And…"

He slightly tightened his grip on my hand.

"I'm sorry if I ever make it seem like I don't value you. I'm aware that I don't express my emotions as clearly as other people, but I wish I was clearer with you. You are one of my favorite people. You mean a lot to me as a friend."

I felt my heart drop a little at those words, and I looked at the floor. I mentally cursed myself for focusing on the "friend" part, when it was obvious he needed me to be a friend and be there for him right now.

"You mean a lot to me in general." He paused.

"Maybe even beyond friendship." He spoke under his breath. If there had been any other noise, I wouldn't have heard him say it.

I snapped my head up to look at him in shock.

He took off his glasses and wiped away the remnants of his tears with the sleeve of his lab coat, breaking our hand-holding and eye contact.

I couldn't muster up the courage to say anything as he put his glasses back on and looked at me confused.

"Are you alright?" He said my name.

I still couldn't speak, and all I could do was look up at him. Maybe I was hearing things. Swallowing thickly, I broke our eye contact again.

"Shit." He muttered, quickly bringing a hand up over his mouth.

I looked back up at him to see his face creased in worry.

"Did I say that out loud?"

I felt my ears go hot and looked away while nodding.

He hissed a string of profanities and turned around to rummage through the drawers in his desk.

"I'm sorry," He shakily said my name, "I wasn't thinking straight. Please forgive me. It's unlike me to speak without thinking, God I'm an idiot!" He rambled, still looking through his drawers with a prominent redness in his cheeks.

"Did you mean it?" I whispered, effectively snapping him out of his quest.

He made eye contact with me, brows knotted, and opened his mouth like he was going to speak but decided against it. He began to scour the drawers again.

"There it is." He pulled out a small journal and clutched it tightly.

He stared intently down at it, eyes flitting to me occasionally as he spoke.

"I'm not very good at… conversing 'without a script', so to speak."

He cleared his throat.

"I, uh, figured it would be better for me to not… speak… when this situation came around."

He held his lips shut and handed the book towards me with a shaky hand. His eyes were still trained on the book, even though I was looking at him.

I hesitantly accepted the journal from him and looked at him to ask permission to read it. He nodded and leaned against the desk, picking at his fingers in anxiety as I opened it to the first page.

---

10/3

We hired a new worker today. She's going to assist Janine in taking calls. I overheard some of the interview walking upstairs to get food, and it seems she's more well-versed in paranormal studies than Janine. I might have to quiz her on that later.

10-27

After getting to know her a little better, I've decided she is worthy of entering my lab. I let her come down today to investigate, and she seemed quite intrigued by the happenings down here. I wonder what she found so fascinating. I couldn't ask her, I'm not sure why.

10-30

It's become increasingly more difficult for me to speak to her about personal affairs. I'm still unsure why. She's easy to get along with, and I seem to be able to converse with her just fine, but I freeze up when she does certain things.

11-2

I've noticed a pattern with the phenomena that triggers my inability to interact with her. I've found that it happens most when she smiles or laughs, gets close to me, makes physical contact with me, etc. The PKE didn't pick up any suspicious readings from her, so maybe there's something wrong with me. I'll run an experiment tomorrow.

11-3

The research shows I'm completely fine, but she still renders me speechless. After work today, she changed into a very flattering dress, saying that she was going out with her friend for drinks. It was, at face value, a regular dress. Though, somehow, it looked stunning on her. I didn't realize I was smiling until she pointed it out. I fear that I might have a different problem than I imagined.

11-15

My problem is most definitely not paranormal. It's biological. She was in the lab again today, helping me with my temperature-related differentiation study with the penicillium species. She comes down here on slow days when Janine tells her she can handle the work. When I moved to take the petri dish out of her hand, I accidentally brushed my fingers with hers and almost dropped the specimen. She was warm, but that wasn't what was alarming to me. I simply enjoyed the feeling. I enjoyed her presence, and I enjoyed her as a person in my life. I liked seeing her happy, and couldn't bear seeing her sad. I realized a simple truth at that moment: she made me happy and I wanted to make her happy too. Irrational it may seem, but she means the world to me.

11-22

I have come to a conclusion. How can I tell her without making a fool of myself? I fear it cannot be done. I can't say my feelings aloud to her. But I need to let her know how much she means to me.

11-23

I'm giving her this journal.

11-27

Since you've come this far in reading this, I want to tell you the facts, since it's easiest for me to think in a logical way. After running some studies on myself, i've come to some conclusions. When I make physical contact with you, my heartbeat quickens an average of 15%. After a prolonged interaction with you, I've recorded that the dopamine levels in my brain rise around 3 pg/ml. I find that when you're gone, I think about you around 2 times per minute; sometimes more, sometimes less. It's so comfortable for me to live in the analytical, logical world, but oftentimes you make me want to forget the science. You've made me feel things I just cannot explain. You have made me smile more than I have in years. I just feel happier with you, I don't know how to explain it. I have this irrational yearning for you. I want to see you happy, and I want to be the cause for your happiness. I want to be near you and see you at all times so I never forget how beautiful you are. I want to touch you, to be close to you so you can fill me with the warmth you bring in my heart. That, I can't explain. Therefore, logical or not, the signs point to one clear idea. I am in love with you. I felt you needed to know. I couldn't keep making excuses for my strange behavior. Thank you for reading this.

---

I closed the journal and felt a tear drip off my face. Wiping my eyes, I didn't realize I'd been crying until I felt the cold wetness against my fingertips. I sat there for a minute, collecting my thoughts and composure, and set the book down on Egon's desk.

Without a second thought, I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him. This time, not bothering to be reserved with my emotions. I held him to me as tight as I could and felt euphoric by his reciprocal. I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy the feeling like I was on cloud nine.

Breathing in his scent one last time, I pulled away slightly and looked up at him. I probably looked like shit, but I didn’t care.

"I love you, too." I smiled.

He breathed out a sigh of relief and we went right back to our embrace.

I giggled, thinking about how nervous he was to not mess anything up. He was always so considerate of me. I didn't know why I never realized it. Then again, I guess he didn't realize it either.

He muttered my name, and I pulled away again to look at him, though I'd have stayed entwined with him forever if I could.

"Thank you." He smiled softly at me.

I reached for his hands and held them level with my shoulders as I leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.

He blinked a couple times and looked away shyly, a rose tinge washing over his cheeks and ears. I could only giggle at how adorable he looked at that moment. I never wanted to stop kissing him.

He pulled away, still smiling, and shut off his machinery for the evening. I reached for the journal again and smiled, thinking of the unspoken words in there. I learned that he was not a man of few words, rather, he just didn't voice his thoughts aloud. What he did say aloud was always the most meaningful or efficient of his thoughts.

"It's late." He spoke softly, turning around to face me. "You should get some rest."

I rolled my eyes.

"And you shouldn't?"

"I can function on an hour of sleep, thank you very much." He teased.

"Tell you what, Dr. I'll sleep if you sleep." I raised my eyebrows in mock defiance.

"There's no way to hold each other accountable for that, you know. You could be lying and stay up another few hours."

I clicked my tongue and pointed at him.

"That's exactly what someone who isn't about to sleep would say."

He shook his head with a half-smile.

"What, do you plan to hold me accountable somehow? Make me pay if I don't follow your bidding?"

I cocked my head, pretending to think about it.

"Doesn't sound half bad, actually. Renowned scientist Egon Spengler groveling at the feet of a woman who wants him to sleep."

He laughed, the sound I love so much. Then, an idea popped into my head. I slowly let my grin grow like a Cheshire cat.

"What if I did hold you accountable?"

He narrowed his eyes on me in confusion.

"If you crash at my place, I'd know you aren't cheating."

His eyes widened, and he suddenly took off his glasses to inspect them so as to break our eye contact.

But he didn't refuse.

I slowly stepped closer to him and took the glasses out of his hands to make him look at me again.

"What do you say, Spengs?" I innocently batted my eyelashes at him.

He looked away and swallowed, clearly flustered.

"You can say no." I spoke in a more serious tone, handing him back his glasses.

He put them back on and looked down at me with a surprising amount of confidence in his eyes, demeanor, and voice.

"Deal." He muttered.

—

We left the station shortly after, quietly conversing on our way out. Ray was still working on the Ecto-1 and squinted up at us from the car. His eyes widened when they landed on our entwined hands, and the cigarette almost fell out of his mouth in a shocked expression.

Egon turned around briefly and gave him a look I couldn't figure out. Ray nodded in acceptance and went back to work, whispering a "good night, you two," probably not to wake Peter "Sleeping Beauty" Venkman upstairs. With a wave and a smile, we exited the premises.

He fell asleep first.

—

A/n: oh my days writing this HEALED me. I've been in a tough situation with someone irl for a couple months and it just killed any semblance of happiness I believed still lived in me. Like seriously I try to play it off bc I'm cool but it made me really sad. AND COMBINED W SCHOOL I JUST. seething. But I'm back!!! And fictional men are helping me regain my hope for humanity (and maybe men). Sorry for the long break, but I am back on my bullshit now 😈

[spenglersweetheart]

Hiiiiiiiiii. Okay so this can be canonxreader or canonxoc whatever ya want but I have this small offering of inspiration-

Kate: I turned out perfectly fine!

Janine: Kate, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast

Kate: I DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN! YOU DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN!!!

I just imagine Kate being very argumentative and silly when she’s sleep deprived and tends to just talk at whoever’s around her so she’s bothering Janine downstairs in the middle of the night during one of the late shifts. So one of the guys has to come collect her (it’s Egon, let’s be honest) and bring her upstairs to bed, and she’s “fighting” it the whole time. It’s just a very funny and adorable situation I think about a lot. 🙃

this is actually so funny oh my god

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

You Need to Sleep

Egon Spengler x Kate Harrison (kate belongs to this beloved creator who sent the request!)

WARNINGS : none!

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

" OH, C'MON! I TURNED OUT PERFECTLY FINE! "

KATE, IN FACT, ALMOST DID NOT TURN OUT perfectly fine. She hadn't slept for about three days and she almost shot up the whole place with her proton pack when it was supposed to be recharging for the next bust. But Kate, all by herself in the dark, scared herself and almost half the people in the Firehouse due to her freaking out about some ghost being the Firehouse when it wasn't possible. If there was, that would've been a huge problem.

But luckily, Janine had managed to get to her first before she could do any damage that they couldn't pay for. She took the wand from her hand, and made sure that she took the pack off her back before putting it away. She walked towards Kate, shaking her head.

"Kate," Janine started, a sigh escaped her lips as she crossed her arms, "This morning, you thought a ghost made your toast."

Kate looked at Janine like she was insane. Well, more scared than anything. "I didn't put the bread in! You didn't put the bread in! So who else did it?"

"I saw you put the toast in there," Janine replied.

"Janine, I swear to you. I didn't put the bread in there!" Kate huffed.

"Yeah, okay."

Kate had been talking Janine's ear off. Janine usually didn't mind having a conversation with her, considering they're the only two women working at the Firehouse. But she quickly realizes that sleep-deprived Kate was a whole different story.

One time, they managed to get into some sort of silly argument over who could slide down the pole the fastest. Janine was barely upstairs. Janine didn't even use the pole. But she entertained Kate's antics anyways.

Janine had her head down on the desk. "Kate, for the last time, I am not watching you slide down that pole again. If I see you spin on it one more time──"

She hadn't even finished her statement. Egon has walked into the room. He passed her desk, saying, "It's alright, I got her."

Egon walked toward the pole. "Kate, sweetheart, you need to sleep," he says.

"I don't want to! I wanna go onto the pole again," she whined.

Egon ends up taking her away from the pole. He swiftly carries her over his shoulder, a sigh escaped his lips as he carries her up the stairs to her room. "Not on my watch. When you sleep, that's when you can go on the pole again."

"You're no fun," Kate said to him.

"I may not be fun now, but you will thank me later after you get some sleep," Egon says.

He makes it up to the room. Egon gently puts Kate down on the bed. When she hits the bed, she's pretty much out like a light. He leaned down, giving her a kiss to her forehead.

"Goodnight, Kate."

[obwjam]

Hey Loved your ghostbusters fics!!! idk if you're still doing the prompts but can you do 20 with Egon?

“I’m not above sticking you in a jar.”

this one is so perfectly egon 😭 the scenario is a continuation of the fic where my oc and venkman get shrunk bc i think it's so perfect and i want to do more with it

from this post

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Egon! Come on! I know you can hear me.”

It had been a few weeks since you and Peter Venkman had been shrunk by some mysterious red slime. Somehow, you had managed to adjust – mostly – to your strange new reality. No longer did you get dizzy every time you looked up at your giant friends, nor did you wake up every morning with a persistent feeling of dread and the urge to vomit everywhere. 

That didn’t mean it had gotten any easier.

A feeling you didn’t anticipate now dominated your days: helplessness. You were too busy being terrified of the possibility of dying that you didn’t stop to think about what everyday life would be like at this diminished height. You decided it was incredibly boring. Watching Egon work tirelessly to find a way to reverse your condition without being able to help was mind-numbingly agonizing.

“Spenglerrrrr… Spengler. Egon Spengler. Egon Spengler, is, ignoring me. He’s pretending I don’t exi-iiiist,” you sang, horribly off-key and with no discernable melody. You might as well have a little fun.  

“Del, please,” he said finally, giving a disgruntled sigh. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Can’t I help? You know I know what I’m doing.”

“I know.” You stared intently as he quickly jotted something down, though from your perspective, his arm seemed to move in slow motion. “But, no.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

A sigh. “I’ve told you a thousand times.”

“Tell me one thousand and one, then.”

“You don’t need me to. Maybe Ray doesn’t care as much, but I do. I don’t want anything happening to you that could be easily preventable.”

“Going over notes or sharing ideas isn’t going to kill me, you know!”

“You say that like it’s a certainty.”

You swallowed down the growing icky feeling. “If that were the case, I would have dropped dead weeks ago.”

Egon seemed to consider that, but he was clearly done having this conversation. He silently went back to work, but you didn’t even give him a few minutes before pushing him again. God, the boredom was consuming.

“Seriously, I could just brainstorm over there while you do the actual work! It’d be fine, I’ve taken plenty of naps today, I –”

Suddenly, he slammed his pen down. Well, it wasn’t really a slam, but to you, he might as well have shot it out of a cannon. “I’m not above sticking you in a jar.”

Shocked, you crossed your arms and frowned. You knew he was being playful in that deadpan Egon way of his, but a sick feeling entered your stomach when he said that. Oh, yeah, you thought. He could do anything to me without even thinking about it.

You were quiet for a while after that, but his comments made you too scared to even move, so you just sat there, stupidly, watching him continue on like nothing had happened. Thirty minutes or thirty hours could have gone by, you wouldn’t have noticed the difference. All you could think about was how long you'd be able to last with limited oxygen if you were sealed shut inside a clear airtight prison.

Egon had a feeling his joke didn’t go over well, and the ensuing stretch of silence filled him with unease. Venkman joked about it all the time, but that was just his coping mechanism. You didn’t like to do that so much, and sometimes, Egon forgot that.

Resigned, he put his pen down and turned to you, so helpless and small sitting on the table. You were very intentionally trying to ignore him.

“I’m sorry,” he offered. “I won’t actually stick you in a jar.”

“You sure about that?” you snapped, still refusing to look up. “You could do anything, and I couldn’t stop you.”

“Well, maybe you couldn’t, but Ray or Winston certainly could.” No response. “That was a joke.”

You grunted. “Not a very good one.”

Egon pinched the brim of his nose. He had really messed this one up, huh?

“You haven’t talked about it all that much.”

You looked at him out of sheer surprise. “What?”

“The psychological effects. Of your… circumstance.”

“What?” you repeated defensively. “Yes I…” you stopped. You’ve certainly thought about it every day, and you even vented to Venkman about it occasionally, but you thought it didn’t really need explaining.

“I mean, I just… assumed it was obvious.”

“Not necessarily,” Egon countered. “Venkman’s basically been the same.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a shitty example.”

For the first time today, you and Egon locked eyes. Even through the discomfort of staring at a human being that was as tall as a building, you could sense his genuine concern. He just didn’t quite know how to ask.

“Nothing is… wrong, per se. It’s not like the shrinking forced me to think a different way. It’s just been hard to… I can’t, I can’t do anything like this. You won’t even let me help figure out a way to fix myself! I–I’ve just… I’ve been noticing that you’ve…” You took a shaky breath. This was harder to say than you thought. “Well, you’re kind of treating me like a child.”

Egon raised his eyebrows, a little embarrassed by the observation. “A child?”

“Well, yeah. You’re ignoring me, getting frustrated when I try to get your attention, and despite always working by your side when I was normal human height, you suddenly act like I can’t contribute anything meaningful anymore. Like my intelligence is all gone, somehow.”

Egon felt his cheeks flush red. It was so obvious now that Del was pointing it out. He was babying them. Acting like any little movement would kill them. They already had enough on their plate – Egon acting like his mother only served to make matters worse.

“I’m… sorry, Del,” Egon said finally, his voice a little hoarse. “This is all so unprecedented, I didn’t want to do anything wrong, or hurt you without knowing.”

“If you were hurting me, I’d say something!”

“Sure,” Egon said, clearly not believing you. “But, truthfully… I’m getting nowhere, Del. I – I can’t even begin to describe how complex this all is.”

“Egon, I have a PhD and a Master’s. I’m smart too, you know.”

“I know, I know.” He shook his head. “But even after going over your test results and obsessing over this slime, I don’t even have a clue. How am I supposed to get you back to normal?”

You smirked. “Why are you acting like you have to do it alone?”

“Huh.” Egon huffed a laugh. “Checkmate, I suppose.”

“Just… let me help you on this. Please.” You padded over to his hand, which was resting comfortably next to his notebook. You placed your miniscule hand on his knuckle, forcing yourself to find the juxtaposition more endearing than terrifying. “Maybe you wouldn’t think I was so annoying if I actually had something productive to do.”

The giant snickered. “The less squeaking out of you, the better.”

He smiled warmly when you actually laughed at his joke. “Well, I don’t think I’m getting anywhere with this tonight.” He flipped his notes over and pushed the beaker of goo to the side. “How about a movie?”

“Really?” you perked up. “Can we have popcorn?”

“Well, I don’t think that…” he rolled his eyes when he saw the shit-eating grin on your face. “Sure, Del, I’ll make some popcorn.”

You climbed eagerly onto Egon’s hand. “And candy?”

“Let’s not push it.”

“But you don’t even know about Venkman’s secret stash.”

Egon couldn’t pretend he wasn’t curious. “What secret stash?”

“I’ll tell you… if you let me pick the movie.”

“Oh, good,” Egon deadpanned. “Another riveting romantic comedy, then?”

“Well, when you told me you’ve never seen When Harry Met Sally before…”

As the two of you fell back into normal banter, you felt as normal as you had since this whole thing occurred. Even if you were curled up in a small portion of a blanket that was bigger than an airport, and you could only eat three pieces of popcorn before getting full, you were still right where you wanted to be. 

For the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel so small.

[panelshowsource]

i agree that the podcast really is so interesting — and imo it's a lot of plain gossip and tv criticism masked as "professional insight", which i live for lmao — but there are times she is really too much... she often mocks or eye-rolls things in a way that, again, doesn't feel constructive and comes off as very rude. mean girl energy. it also bothers me how she will talk at richard instead of engaging in a back and forth, and sometimes that turns into an episode in which she speaks 80% of the time. then again, as content cycles throughout the year, sometimes what's on/hot atm is just more in her wheelhouse than his, so we just have to wait for new taskmaster, new bbc comedies, new doctor who, whatever interests him, and then hopefully he'll have even more opportunities to shine... i do cherish when he gets a chance to speak lmao

but fr take a shot every time she says "a friend of mine who works at _______ told me blah blah"

i'll work on tracking that down!! it would be fun to watch more of them 😋

aren't they too much? i was just thinking how amazing would it be if they were a pair on pointless celebs ...........

you know how once you notice an actor then suddenly you start to see them everywhere? (especially on uk tv which is not as big a pool as you'd think it would be...) that was me and charlotte ritchie! it was like wow this girl is everywhere!

anyways, i'm not sure what her aims are atm... she's done quite a bit of comedy but am i the only one who thinks she would body a crime series? or something like broadchurch?

glad you got a chance to catch my response and watch some fun things! i was thinking a little more about what else to recommend, and i think if you enjoy the quirky nature of repertoire then you should check out huge davies, and if you enjoy the storytelling format like greg davies typically does then you should try out dara ó briain and russell howard (maybe the 2021 lubricant special to start) :) enjoy!!

hahaha this is funny... it's a good question 😅 there are a few reasons... he's good bantz! he doesn't take himself too seriously, laughs at himself, can be teased, isn't mean spirited. people really appreciate that. plus, he represents a lot of people who aren't otherwise on tv — not primetime bbc, at least. there starts to be an issue when he just...doesn't try, doesn't contribute. he's fallen asleep on like three different shows? didn't he just...not show up to the second-half of his bakeoff special? often he's got nothing to say? mo really carried the convos on his talk show, his teammates carried him on bfq, and so on. he just doesn't seem to have the interest or perhaps the stamina (orrr perhaps the respect) for long records 😅

anyways, he was being pushed for a little while, but that appears to have stopped. he's hasn't been around too much lately 🤔 (tho ngl idk what he's up to!)

yesss this is a great video and i'll link it here in case anyone wants to check it out! it reminded me that i really need to seek out his celeb hunted episodes hahaha

when the news came out he would be playing an 'egon spengler type' i was like yep lmao

he and ed mention quite often how many auditions they go to, especially james, for big movies like wonka and ghostbusters — no surprise to me imo! especially since it seems he's focused on films over tv 🤔

can't say i saw ghostbusters tho i'm sorry 😭

WELLLL now that it's out how have you been enjoying it? 😊🥰 where is your review, anon !!

susie dent gifs are high on my list, working on those for this week for sure!!! it's just...how to choose...she's just too pretty....

but i love ALL of your suggestions, duly noted 😍

—

PANEL SHOW WATCH LINKS / NON-PANEL SHOW WATCH LINKS FAQ / TAGS / ASK

[toriisasimp]

Feeling Better?

An Egon Spengler x fem!reader One Shot

Prompt: Healing from an injury caused by a failed bust is never fun. Until Egon volunteers himself to watch over you and make sure you’re getting the correct treatment. And he wants to help you feel better.. in more ways than one.

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT!! Minors DNI. Egon takes care of the reader. 😉

A/N: DEEP BREATHS DEEP BREATHS It’s canon to me that Egon uses good girl and there’s nothing you can do about it. I am a menace to society. 🤭

-

The clock ticked to 11 PM on the dot, as you stood at the bathroom sink, trying to reach around your bare torso to apply some healing gel to the burns that were spread across your back.

The burns had been caused by a Class 6 full roaming vapor colliding with your proton pack-less back, tearing up your uniform and digging into your skin as well. The burns were intense, and the team was up the whole rest of the night making sure you were stable.

Since you had been discharged, Egon put himself in charge of the rest of your healing. He made sure to remind you to put on the ointment every night, and apply cooling cloths to your back every other night.

He also had to remind you to sleep topless, so your skin could air out.

It had been about a week since the accident, and it wasn’t entirely impossible to apply the gel by yourself- but tonight was particularly tough. You decided to call in some backup.

“Spengler!” You hollered out the bathroom door, to Egon, who was in the lab.

“Yes?” His voice echoed through the bedroom and into the bathroom.

“Can you come here for a sec?” You yelled again.

Without a response, you heard some shuffling grow closer, and Egon appeared in the doorway. He had shed his sweater vest and tie, and was in his usual white button down and slacks. He was also just in socks, and the realization made you smile.

“What do you need?” He asked before he could lock eyes with you, but even before that his eyes briefly scanned your appearance. You were in sweatpants, and just a bra- and it was only then that you realized he had never seen you without a shirt on. He cleared his throat.

“Can you help? For some reason I just can’t reach-“ You couldn’t even finish the question before he was unbuttoning and rolling up his sleeves, nodding his head towards the bedroom.

“Come sit in here, bring the gel and a towel with you.”

You obliged, following after him. He sat in the middle of your bed, motioning to the space in front of him. With a sigh, you plopped down, passing the container of ointment gel and the towel over your shoulder. Your hair was already tied up, so it was out of the way.

As Egon set up behind you, you sighed- letting your back relax and slouch ever so slightly. You then felt his hand brush against the clasp of your bra.

“May I?” He asks softly, perhaps asking for permission to undo it. You nod silently, and he unclasps the bra smoothly, not removing it fully but letting the bands fall to the sides, so he had full access to your bare back.

You hear the squelch of the gel as he runs it over his hands, and then gently begins to spread it over the skin of your back, your shoulder blades, spine, and sides. You shiver, and although it isn’t painful- it causes a bit of discomfort against the healing burns.

“Sorry.” He murmurs softly, sensing your discomfort as you shift on the bed. He continues, one hand holding the container and the other painting the ointment over your back. You let out a sigh, your head dropping forward as your eyes shut, and you relax into the brief touch.

After your back is covered in the gel, you hear the container get screwed up, and he wipes his hands on the towel, before there’s a pause.

You assume he’s going to stand up and excuse himself back to the lab after completing the favor, but instead, you feel his hands on your biceps, easing you back to lean against his chest.

Of course, it takes you by surprise- your brows furrowing and your body clearly hesitating.

“Is it okay if I just-“ He pauses, and you glance over your shoulder to look at him. The soft light of the lamp beside the bed casts upon his face. “Hold you? I haven’t gotten to since the accident.”

Your heart twists in your chest, your brows knitting together as you nod. “Of course.” You say softly, and turn your head back forward and lean back into his touch, his arms naturally finding their way around your waist. His hips framed yours, his legs extended on either side of yours, and yours were bent slightly.

“Are you feeling well?” He asks softly, and you notice how his lips are right against your ear in this position.

You shrug gently. “I’m okay. It’s not exactly comfortable, but it’s not entirely painful either.” With a sigh, you explain how you’re feeling. You feel Egon nod. His hands gently stroke up and down the skin of your stomach.

“I see. Have you been taking the medicine the hospital prescribed you?”

You’re caught like a deer in the headlights, seething as you cringe. No, you haven’t.

Egon says your name lowly, like a warning- and he squeezes your hips slightly.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I just.. forget.” You put your hands up in surrender, trying to brush it off. Egon clearly isn’t taking it lightly.

“You’re not going to feel any more comfortable unless you take them.” He says firmly in your ear, and it makes you shiver.

“I know, I know..” You sound like a child who just got scolded. His fingertips are tracing over the skin just above your waistband, and your eyes are focused on it.

“I want to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible..” He murmurs, his fingers moving to tease just under the band of your sweatpants, making you let out a shaky exhale, looking down at what his hands are doing. And he’s watching too, just over your shoulder.

“Egon..” You whisper out his name, catching your lower lip between your teeth. His hands abandon your lower half, making you whimper weakly, but only for them to gently remove the rest of your bra, leaving your skin for be pinched by the cool air, and completely topless.

His hands run over the skin of your breasts, making you take a heavy breath- your head tilting to the side as your eyes screw shut.

You feel his lips press against your neck, just as one of his hands slide down to dip under your sweatpants, and tease your folds, making you softly moan as your eyes open to see his hands all over you, and your head falls back against his shoulder. He takes this as an invitation to tease a finger at your entrance, slipping it in gently as the other hand runs over the skin of your breast and your nipple.

“Egon-“ You breathe out, and a gasp gets caught in your throat as he slips his finger in fully, beginning to slowly pump in and out. “Fuck-“ You curse, and he lowly hums in your ear.

“How are you feeling now?” He asks teasingly. “Comfortable?” Before pressing another kiss to your collarbone.

“I- yes, just- don’t stop-“ You pant out, and moan as he slips in another finger, your hand flying to hold onto his wrist to make sure he doesn’t pull anything stupid, like stopping.

Your brows furrow as your back arches against his chest, as he spreads kisses against your jawline and neck still. His movements speed it, which causes more weak moans to leave your lips, hips slightly bucking against his hand.

“There you go.. fuck my fingers-“ He purrs into your ear.

And that is enough to send you over the edge rather quickly, one of your hands flying to cover your mouth as you shake in his hold, your orgasm washing over you as your legs try to close, but he holds them open with one hand, the other still fucking you through your climax.

It’s only when your hand tugs at his wrist that he pulls away, bringing his two fingers up to lick your juices clean, and then both arms settle around your waist again.

“Good girl.” He whispers softly to you, and you hum tiredly, turning your head enough to catch his lips in a gentle, slow kiss.

While your eyes are still shut, you feel the bed creak under you as you feel the blankets get pulled up to cover your lower and upper half, Egon’s arms still nestled around you and his head still resting on your shoulder.

“I love you.” He whispers, and sadly, you feel sleep pull you under just as you’re about to respond, and tell him that you love him too.

Hopefully the way you pull his arms tighter around and you nestle against him closer is enough of an answer.

-

<3

[eebydeebyderby]

I Missed You

A one-shot in which Egon struggles to express his feelings after Reader returns from a month-long absence.

Based on this request sent in by @saltedtoast about 49 years ago.

General info:

Egon x fem!Reader, fluff, confessions, no content warnings

~3.1k words

The lab had never known loneliness until it felt your absence. 

Egon peers into his microscope, adjusting the focus on a newly prepared slide of Xylaria polymorpha he recently cultivated. This was a particularly hard specimen for him to raise in captivity, and he feels a sense of pride that it was doing quite well under his care. He tries to focus completely on his work, but a sense of emptiness tugs on the back of his mind, threatening to once again disrupt his work flow. It’s an internal struggle he’s been wrestling with for a month now. He'd grown accustomed to the solitude of the lab for the first few years before your hire, and he was quite content with just his own company. In all honesty, he initially found the idea of sharing his lab with someone full-time quite disdainful. He was distant, almost cold for the first few weeks as you settled in, but he quickly became used to your company, even looking forward to seeing you in the mornings. 

He sorely misses you. He's clung to every ghost of your presence during your month's absence, finding your lingering influence in its tasks, its equipment and daily rituals. You’re due to return tomorrow, and he can’t deny the nervous excitement that built up over the past few days. 

Rapid footsteps descend down the stairs, breaking into his thoughts. He groans a bit and scowls, not looking up from his microscope. Every night, Peter barrels into the lab to pester him for the purpose of extorting a candy bar from the sweets’ drawer in exchange for staying away from your things. Tonight more than ever he’s not in the mood for Peter’s antics a second time. The footsteps hit the basement floor and he rises to his feet, still adjusting the focus on his microscope. “Venkman—"

“Egon!”

The sudden sound of your voice nearly makes him jump out of his coat. He turns around just in time for you to fling your arms around him, nearly knocking him off-balance. Your familiar scent floods his nostrils and his mind blanks. For a split-second, he’s absolutely intoxicated. 

“I missed you.” Your grip is so tight that he almost struggles to draw breath, and he finds himself quite flustered. By the time he summons the courage to reciprocate, you pull away. 

You drop your bag at your desk, which Egon had vigilantly kept free of Peter's grabby raccoon hands. "It's good to be back in our lab."

Our lab. He preens. “It’s good to have you back.” He clears his throat, hoping the heat on his face isn’t too visible. “You’re a day early.” 

“Yeah, the travel schedule changed a bit.” You rummage through your bag and offer him a chocolate bar—an old favorite of his not found in New York since his undergrad. 

“Oh. Thank you.” He’s pleasantly surprised at the gesture; in his entirety of knowing you, he’s only mentioned it once. He reaches out and grabs the treat, but is met with a sudden resistance when you don’t release it from your grip. 

“What happened?” you ask quietly. He follows your gaze to the burn seared across the back of his hand from last week’s neutrino malfunction, scarred and scabbed, but mostly healed over. 

“It’s nothing,” he says reflexively. 

You raise an eyebrow. Anyone unfamiliar with you would read your expression as credulous, but he knows you come from a place of concern. Still, he’s grateful that you release him and don’t prod further into it. “How’d you manage to keep Peter out of my stuff?” you ask, granting him the mercy of a changed subject. 

“Bribery, threats, extortion, canned cat food laced with children’s Benadryl.” 

You laugh, a familiar sound that fills his chest with a bubbly warmth, something sorely lacking in the lab for the past month. Oh, he missed you terribly. 

And yet, something’s off. 

He ponders for a second. There’s the slightest drop of tone in your voice, an almost undetectable droop of your eyebrows; your limbs are drawn in, your arms wrapped tightly across your middle.

You look sad.

“You look sad,” he blurts, and he immediately regrets it. It was the truth, yes, but he could have worded it much, much more eloquently. Still, Peter was always telling him to speak his mind, to stop overthinking the simple things.

He has trouble reading your face in reaction to his comment, and for a moment he fears he stumbled into offensiveness.

You shrug. “Just a little homesick, I guess. It’s been an intense adjustment, this past year,” you say. He sees the sadness settle back into your gaze, the uncertainty. “I’ve been away from home for so long that things felt a bit weird and off when I went back, but I also feel like I don’t quite belong where I’m at. I missed home for so long, but when I was back there I missed being here. No matter where I’m at, I feel like I left something behind.”

He awkwardly reaches forward and places his hand on your shoulder. “I’m not going to tell you that those feelings will get better or easier, because there’s no guaranteeing the truth in that.” He swallows. “What I can guarantee, however, is that you may openly confide in me anything and I will do my best to offer full support.” He pauses for just a split second to keep the quake in his chest from reaching his voice. “I wish for this to be explicitly known.” 

You smile warmly, melting the icy pit forming in his stomach. “Thank you. Likewise.”

His nerve depletes and he withdraws his hand, failing to notice the disappointment on your face. His mind scrambles a bit for a plausible escape route and quickly settles on, “I believe a hot beverage is in-order.” Before you can reply he stuffs his hands deeply into the pockets of his lab coat and quickly makes his way to the kitchen stairs. He feels your befuddled gaze burning into the back of his neck and he doesn’t dare to turn his head until he knows he’s well out of sight.

The privacy of the kitchen allows his mind to unclog itself of its anxieties, to idly keep his hands busy and get a bit of respite. He sighs as he makes his way to the cupboard, pulling out various ingredients. He wants to pretend that he doesn’t know why he’s so nervous, but there’s no plausible deniability that he can convince himself of.

Tonight. He’s going to tell you tonight. For the past month he’s been trying to force himself to build up a sort of courage to be ready upon your return, but it crumbled away in an instant with just the sound of your voice. He’s completely disarmed and wants to give it up for another day like he’d done countless times before, spending weeks and weeks building up his nerve only for it to once again disappear when he tried calling upon it.

He absentmindedly shakes his head a bit, as if to shoo away the thoughts. For now, he just chooses to focus on his kitchen activities. 

He’s memorized your nighttime beverage preferences down pat: how hot you like it, how sweet, what consistency, how the time of month and weather off-puts typical preference. He knows several small inclinations of yours, things that he’d never openly admit for fear of coming off as disconcerting. Peter tells him that he never speaks up enough, but will say in the same breath that Egon easily falls into saying far, far too much. He sighs. Human courting rituals, and all that. No matter how many times he consults with Janine or one of the boys, he’s always left horribly befuddled. 

As if on cue, Winston walks into the kitchen with a mug of tea and a newspaper. “Heyo, doctor,” he says pleasantly. 

Winston’s sagacity commands an air of respect without compromising the lax energy that his presence brings about. Already Egon feels some of the tension unwind in his stomach as Winston settles himself at the table. Now more than ever he feels the need for a confidant and Winston, the youngest of the four men, has a level of emotional intelligence that far exceeds that of most anyone Egon knows. He’s also the person in the firehouse who’s known you for years longer than anyone else, even being the original advocate for your hire. 

“YN’s back a day early. Did she go down and say ‘hi’ to you yet?” 

Egon nods. “She’s in the lab.” 

Winston raises an eyebrow. “First thing she said when I asked her about her trip was that she missed you,” he says wryly, swirling the tea in his mug. "So, why are you up here?"

Egon sighs again. If he really wants to seek advice, there’s no point in giving Winston anything other than the truth. “I can’t seem to shake myself from mental paralysis. I’m unsure that my timing is optimal, that I’m not risking her comfort, that we would still function as coworkers in the event that the approach is negatively received. I’m not even sure what parts of our correspondence have dissolved in her absence and which ones were preserved.” 

“I getcha.” Winston takes a drink of tea, giving himself a moment to formulate his thoughts. "Sounds to me like you're stuck between wanting things to go back to the safe old dynamic, but also wanting to change it to something more romantically inclined. Being apart for so many weeks created a sort of split limbo in your relationship, and now it’s up to you to reestablish what sort of dynamic you want to pursue. Choosing to pursue one has a very real chance of dooming the possibility of later pursuing the other. This is a risk of any courtship. You’re never gonna be sure about any of it.”

“I’m just…uncertain about how to go about it. Every time I formulate a dialogue in my head, it dissolves the second I call upon it.”

“Mm.” Winston sets down his tea. “I know you love your disquisitions, doc, but you’re just making it hard on yourself. Two simple rules are all you need: Be honest. Keep it simple. Easy.”

Egon scoffs, pouring two mugs of steaming cocoa. Easy, he says.

Peter trots up the stairs. “Spengler?” His voice carries an edge of irritation. “What the hell are you doing up here?”

“He’s just grabbing a little treat for himself and YN,” Winston says as he scribbles in the newspaper’s crosswords. 

“Oh, good. I thought he was up here hiding because he choked trying to get himself to talk to her again,” Peter says flatly. 

Egon ignores his comment and averts his gaze as he gathers up his mugs and begins to depart. 

“Hey, wait.” Peter firmly plants his hand on Egon’s shoulder, halting him. “Believe me, Egon. You know we wouldn’t jerk you around with something like this. She’s really got something for you. She has for a while now. God only knows why. Now," He rips the newspaper from Winston's hands and smacks Egon over the head with it. "Get going!”

"Ah!" Egon instinctively moves to flinch, but stops with the weight of the mugs in his hands. "Venkman! I'm holding hot drinks!"

Peter smacks him again and again, knocking his glasses askew. "Go! Git! Git!" he shouts, corralling Egon towards the staircase. "It’s now or never, Spengler!” Peter calls out as Egon descends the stairs. “Now or never!” 

He’s thankful that two sets of stairs separate the basement from the kitchen, making it nearly impossible for you to hear Peter’s shouts. You’re peering into his microscope when he returns to the lab. “Xylaria polymorpha,” you say as he approaches you. “Said to spawn in spots where the Welsh gwyllgi takes rest beneath forest trees.” You rise to your feet and take the mug he offers you. “Thanks, Spengs.” You take a sip and savor the rich flavor as it spreads across your tongue, warming your entire being. "Nobody makes it the way you do.”

He takes a sip of his own drink. It’s alright. Stock flavor composition from a standardized corporate formula meant to chemically stimulate basal taste receptors. He only modified it very slightly with a few pinches of additional ingredients. “It’s nothing special,” he says. 

“It is when you make it.”

Heat rises to his face. 

“Hey, I know it’s late,” you say, “but do you want to go up to the balcony? Get some air? I want to see the city lights again.”

The winter air is bitingly cold as he steps onto the roof behind you and he tightly clings to his mug, grateful for its warmth radiating through his hands. He fleetingly considers going to fetch you one of his spare coats, but you seem quite unbothered by the cold. You lean on the banister, scanning the horizon with an almost hungry fascination, your eyes flitting between countless small flashes of movement from the city below. “I almost forgot how lively it always is, no matter what time it is.” 

Egon stands next to you. “The city that never sleeps.”

“The city that never sleeps,” you repeat vacantly, “and the scientist who follows suit…” You turn to him, tiredness weighing heavily in your own eyes. “Since we are open to confiding,” you say slowly, trying not to tread on any sensitivities. “I worry about you. You never get enough sleep and I feel like there might be something bothering you.” 

He’s fascinated by how easily you can oscillate between idle observations and deep-seated feelings, how you and so many others manage the balance between aloofness and oversharing, when he himself often veers too far towards one or the other. He decides to fall back to one of Peter’s pre-approved conversation topics. “How is your return to New York so far?”

“Yeah, it really is.” You laugh, and he doesn’t know if it’s from derision, genuine amusement at your own comment, or an incomprehensible mixture of both. 

The cryptozoologist acting cryptically. There’s something so obviously fitting about that, and yet it’s a thought that’s never crossed his mind. A smirk creeps along his face, the half smile you so commonly reciprocate. It’s just another one of your many small charms that he finds himself so spellbound over.

You take a final swig of your drink and set down the empty mug. “How have you been this past month?”

Be honest. Keep it simple. “I missed you.” 

Your mouth splits into a bashful grin and you turn your head away from him for a very brief moment, as if to hide your face. You move closer to him and press yourself against him. He nearly jumps when he feels your touch, your warmth in the frigid night air. His heart flutters in his chest and in a sudden burst of confidence he puts his arm around you to pull you closer. 

Your shoulder stiffens beneath his arm. 

For a split second his soul runs icy and his heart drops into the pit of his stomach, fearing that he’d breached your comfort, but he’s pulled out of his dread when you lean into him.

You close your eyes and rest your head on his chest. “I missed you, too. I mean, yes, I missed everyone, Janine and Dana and the boys, but I really, really missed you from the pit of my gut.” You sigh contentedly. "It's good to have you back." 

Blood pounds in his ears. Now or never. He swallows. Now or never. “I’m in love with you,” he blurts. 

You pull away and lock eyes with him. Your face is completely unreadable to him and panic bursts in his chest. “I apologize if I’ve offended you,” he stammers rapidly. “It was never my intention to put you in an uncomfortable position and if I’ve in any way compromised your sense of safety or well-b—” 

“Egon.” 

You reach up and put your hands on either side of his face, silencing him. “Relax.” Every thought in his head grinds to a halt as you gently guide his head forward and press your lips to his. Instinct takes over and he tilts his head slightly, bringing his hand up to delicately cup the side of your face. 

After a few seconds you pull back a bit, your lips just grazing his, your breath hot on his face, sending chills down his spine. A sweetness lingers behind, the taste of your drink he made for you. “I love you, too.” Your voice is low and breezy, calming to his wildly beating heart. You stand on the tips of your toes and gently tilt his head downwards to plant a light kiss on his forehead. "It took going away for an entire month and missing you so badly for me to realize it."

For a moment he remains quiet, blinking rapidly. Then the entirety of his face lights up in a bright grin and he chuckles deeply in the back of his throat. He pulls you in for another kiss, savoring the softness of your lips against his, your warmth in the frigid night air, your presence that he’d missed so sorely for an entire month. The kiss breaks and he pulls you into a tight embrace, cradling you to his chest and resting his cheek on top of your head. You let out a contented sigh and lean further into him. The vibrations of his deep voice resonate in your chest as he hums a nonsense tune under his breath and absentmindedly sways with you in his arms. He doesn’t know how long the two of you just stand there, but he’s more than happy to stay here with you for the entire night if you let him. 

You stretch your jaw into a wide yawn. He feels the fatigue settle into you as your grip around him gradually relaxes. “Tired?” he asks.

“No,” you say thickly, struggling to suppress another yawn bubbling in your throat.

He snickers and tilts your chin up. Exhaustion is written plainly on your face, but there’s a defiant gleam burning in your eye. You don’t want to leave just yet, you want to stay up here as long as you can. He feels the same, but he knows your stamina is depleted. He presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose. “Let’s get you inside. You need rest.”

You frown. “Just a little longer?”

He finds it almost uncanny how quickly your gaze melts away his resolve, staring up at him with your big, soft eyes. He pulls you back into his arms and you settle in nicely. “Just a little longer.” 

[lonelyridesinecto-one]

Cat Caught Your Tongue?

Egon Spengler • She/Her Pronouns • GB Intern!Reader • SFW

Requested by: Anon

“You’re finally hiring another to help around?”

“She’s a student at Colombia looking for a work study while finishing up her PHD in Chemistry. She’ll get her experience and lab hours working along side me.”

“Egon, she’s working in GB headquarters. She will be doing much more than being your lab assistant”

“That is what she needs to meet her requirements and she’ll do field work along Ray”

Peter quickly grabs Egon’s shoulder causing him to immediately push it off. “So she’ll be working with you and Ray—-“

“And Winston”

“And Winston—But not me?”

“She’s here to learn and you are a man whore that doesn’t know when to keep his hands to himself” Egon states opening his GB locker grabbing his coat.

“Way to already put an impression of me—-“

“How’s your relationship with Ms. Barrett?” He smirks receiving an annoyed look from his friend. “Don’t scare her away on her first day tomorrow” and with that Spengler makes his leave.

The next day, Egon expecting to be the first to arrive at the firehouse given he always goes into work around 5am. He spotted the young woman skimming through a very used composition book and as he got closer he noticed the messy but clear handwriting going through formulas.

“If you change that number to an odd one, you’ll receive the positive result you’re looking for”

“Yes but I’m applying this to the spore study I’m doing on my spare—“ The woman finally looks up at the scientist before her and couldn’t help the smile on her face. “Well. Aren’t you a sight?”

“I-I…What?”

“Sorry Dr. Spengler, I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N…and I tell no lie when I do say you are quite the sight. Taller than I expected…much handsomer in person compared to the university’s paper” Y/N smirks spotting the heat to rise to Egon’s ears as he was quick to ignore what she said by clearing his throat.

“Are you ready for your first assignment?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be…Doctor” She continues to smirk entering the firehouse with Egon.

Peter being the last one to arrive out of the Ghostbusters, spotted the intern talking to Janine and Lewis as he slowly approaches the crowd.

“Well hello—-“

“Sorry have to get these calculations to Dr. Spengler and Dr. Stantz” Y/N cuts off Peter quickly heading down to the basement as the OG Ghostbuster looks at the other two standing there watching them laugh at him.

“Don’t even try Pete”

“Try what?”

“To shoot your shot” Lewis states with that dorky smile of his as he leaves to his desk.

“Shoot your shot—-Are you teaching Lewis phrases?”

Janine shrugs smiling closing her magazine to answer the phone watching Peter leave annoyed.

“With these numbers we should be okay until next month. Maybe we can look into energy alternatives to avoid—-“

“The containment unit overloading and erupting like the first time around with the Gozer incident” Y/N fills in the rest watching Ray, Egon, and Winston all look at her a bit surprised. “What? I followed all of Doctor Spengler’s works from his days back at Colombia that who wouldn’t stumble across a few articles written about the ghostbusters. And might I say…Dr. Spengler knows how to pose for a magazine.” The way she bites her lip after saying that made Egon’s face heat up as the two bystanders (Ray and Winston) share a quick glance. “I’m going to grab any job ticket if we have any from Janine, I’ll be back” she states letting the silence creep in with her departure.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Language”

“Sorry but damn, you’ve caught one Spengs”

“I did not catch anything. She really likes my work”

“And really likes you as well. Egon don’t be blind to that” Winston states with a nodding Ray right beside him.

“…You two are idiots”

Sorry Doctor, but you’re the idiot

Even Peter started to notice the smallest things Y/N would do or say to get Spengler flustered and honestly it gave him fuel.

“Americano” Y/N handed it off to Ray. “Black with two sugars” she hands it to Peter. “Double shot espresso with milk” handing the drink off to Winston. “Black & Green tea with lemon” handing the drink to Janine getting a soft thank you. “Honey lavender” she handed off the second to last drink to Lewis before turning to Spengler.

“I don’t drink coffee or te—-“

“Green juice. But a bit light on the kale because I’ve heard not everybody enjoys such a green so” Y/N hands the drink to Egon as she couldn’t see the others’ expressions but Egon could seeing that they’re waiting for the man turn beet red any second.

“You’re not…an ordinary intern. You don’t have to get drinks to rise up in your work study”

“I know but I’m always willing to show my gratitude to you Dr. Spengler” She coos watching him blush again before turning to pick up her tea seeing the group scramble making her smirk a bit. “I have to go back to the university to meet up with one of my mentors. I’ll be back before the on-call shift starts” she informs collecting her things and as she passes a turning Egon she turned on her heel to face back at him. “Don’t miss me too much” she winks on her leave.

“Yeah…don’t miss me too much, Egon” Peter teases getting a laugh from Ray. “Come look at these readings Doctor. Please punish me if I wrote something wrong” he continued and it only got weirder.

Causing Egon to be awkward in the lab with Y/N for the on-call shift. Her first shift as a GB rookie but in the mean time they were working on both of their side projects outside of the ghostbusters.

“What exactly are you aiming your focus toward when you get your doctorate in Chemistry?”

“Finally taking an interest in lil ol me?” Y/N teases watching him roll his eyes for once as she went back to her Petri dishes. “I’ve always admired your work when it comes to psychosis but I was more interested in the medicine to help “tone it down” in a sense. I prefer testing on alternatives compared to the inhumane way of testing on animals like most chemists do for pharmaceuticals”

“It’s surprising how some animals are still being tested on for certain products. Animal trails for medical research is…something else. Not right but until the medical community finds a way to cure disease without fatal trails along the way, we’re stuck.” Egon sighs before taking out his brief case from under the desk in the lab to retrieve a business card and immediately handed it to Y/N. “Hopefully you’ll be a part of the change like her and her team is. I’ll put in the good word before you graduate and you’ll be set with a job afterward”

Y/N happily took the business card biting her lip to stop herself from the over joyful squeal that could escape from her. She’s been looking for a while and part of her is a little disappointed since being with the Ghostbusters changed a lot of what she wanted to do for a career. But given the opportunity…

“Already want to give rid of me that quickly?” Y/N smirks inching closer to Egon as he felt himself bringing himself closer. “Color me disappointed that you wouldn’t want me to stick around…be your personal lab assistant?” She continued to smirk leaning a bit closer only for Egon to take her shoulders into his hands forcing her back just a tad which awoken something in her resulting in a surprised smile.

“I know why you’re doing this”

“Please tell me…and slowly” She says playfully causing Egon to stutter before letting go of her and standing his ground.

“From what I’ve seen the past few weeks with you here, your behavior has only changed drastically and always around me. Your tone of voice being more…firm and playful when talking toward me compared to the harsh bite you have toward Venkman. The body language and always being in my proximity…always keeping eye contact and clear speech when answering my questions…bringing yourself closer to keep my focus on your actions…” Egon started to trail on as Y/N couldn’t help the joy and satisfaction she was feeling when he continued to describe how she was flirting with him ultimately leading to him leaning against the lab table as she strides back close to him.

“Is that right, Dr. Spengler?”

“Y-Yes. Your hormones or also known as oxytocin for females in this case are firing to your brain a sense of trust in my presence.”

“Hm. Well to sum up everything you’ve said Dr. Spengler” Y/N brought her lips to his ear keeping her voice quiet. “It simply means that I like you” she smiles pressing a kiss to his cheek watching his complexion redden when she pulls away.

With that being done, she leaves him to ponder what happened to go make some tea for herself. Egon genuinely felt as if he was going to explode with that information.

The last few months of her internship felt extremely fast, and Egon hated every second of it when it got closer to her leaving. She grew on him…enjoyed her company, her intelligence, her smile…laugh…

He’s smitten and only knew one way to tell her.

“Y/N mind helping me with a quick experiment?”

“Sure!” Y/N smiles picking up her things to follow Egon to the lab only to watch him trip and fall. She immediately drops her things to help him watching his blank expression with his darting eyes. “Egon, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry…I have fallen…” Egon adjusts his glasses taking her offered hand being helped to his feet. “For you”

It clicked instantly to Y/N as she was at a loss for words with a blush rising to her cheeks and a smile to follow.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Egon gently rests his hand on her cheek seeing her ease into his touch which he didn’t calculate happening so he had to collect himself quickly. “Cat caught your tongue?”

[psychokinetic-ectoplasm]

Ghostbusters Fanfiction Masterlist

*** REQUESTS ARE OPEN***

Note: All fics are rated Explicit (as per Ao3s rating system) unless otherwise noted

Egon Spengler

Not Jealous (one-shot)

Burning Fascination (complete, 11/11)

Masters of Sex (The Mood Slime Experiments) (complete, 5/5)

Untitled Older Egon (coming soon)

Ray Stantz

Somewhere to Belong (complete, 12/12)

Some Call It Love, I Call It Magic (Older Ray, complete, 12/12)

Love, Unleashed (Older Ray/Spirits Unleashed, complete, 2/2)

These Golden Years (Frozen Empire Fic, one-shot)

It Was Always You (Ray at Columbia/coming soon)

Real Love (RGB Ray, in progress)

Peter Venkman

He's Yours (Peter x Dana Barrett one-shot)

Various

Ghostbusters One-Shots and Drabbles (updated Feb. 14)

Dan Aykroyd Characters

Elwood Blues/The Blues Brothers

That Special Somebody... (complete, 2/2)

Squeeze and Please (one-shot)

I Need You (Blues Brothers AU, complete, 13/13)

Anything For You (one-shot)

Misc.

We Keep Watch For Each Other (Ellis Fielding/Loose Cannons, in progress)

When I Start Lovin' I Just Can't Stop (Mike Weber/Soul Man, in progress)

Some Things Are Meant To Be (Roy/Love At First Sight (1977) coming soon)

The Way You Love Is Good As Money (Roman Craig/The Great Outdoors, in the works)

Loving the Alien (Beldar Conehead, in the works)

Untitled Fred Garvin one-shot (in the works)

Harold Ramis Characters

Someday Soon I'm Gonna Make Him Mine (Russell Ziskey, in progress)

Untitled Moe Green One-shot (in the works)

Untitled Steven Buchner One-shot (Baby Boom, in the works)

Will update these as I go along! Anything that's underlined is a link!