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#egon x reader
egonscalculator · 1 year
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i love egon spengler so much i wanna put him in my pocket and keep him safe
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notquitecanon · 1 year
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Stardust & Fungi // Egon Spengler x reader
Me, breaking my writers block with shittily written fluff about a ghostbuster? More likely than you think]
Warnings: none other than this is top ten worst things I've ever written lol
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"Is there a reason you're staring at me?" Egon asked, not glancing up from his microscope as he jotted down his observations. If it was still the days of stolen glances and supposedly unrequited feelings, or even in the early days of your relationship, you would have blushed at being caught, averted your eyes and found something to occupy yourself with. Though those days were cherished in their own right, they were in the past.
So, at his accusation you just smiled lazily over at him, chin propped in your hand, offering a challenge, "Do I need a reason?"
The scientist thought for a second, carefully adjusting the focus on the microscope, "I don't suppose so, though typically I can deduce what I'm doing to garner such attention. Right now I can't find anything of note."
You snorted a laugh, shaking your head as you closed your book- as if his entire existence hadn't been 'of note' to you since you met him, "Well, I just happen to think my boyfriend looks very cute when he's analyzing fungus blooms."
You knew your teasing found it's mark when his usual precise movement jerked, throwing the fine adjustment knob completely out of focus. Egon spared you a flustered glance before he fervently fixed the focus again, ducking his head back to the ocular piece to hide the flush creeping up his neck.
Slowly, like a cat after a nap, stretching lazily you rose from your perch, your very own, lovingly assigned lab stool. The stool was a small seemingly meaningless gesture from Egon that if you knew the scientist, had several layers of subtext. To start with, it was the only surface in the lab that was safe from the good doctor's 'organized' chaos. This particular still had a back and cushion, appearing ~randomly~ the day after you had complained of a sore back. It always had an extra lab coat, discarded sweater, or sports coat hanging on the back since you often complained the lab was too cold. Typically, the stool was parked next to his super top secret snack stash that was classified information to everyone in the firehouse. And while others were allowed to sit on your stool, the moment you entered the lab Egon would wordlessly shoo them away or stare at them until they caught the hint- Peter liked to test these limits just to mess with him. The stool was how the other ghostbusters knew how Egon really felt about you.
When it came to Egon, it was all in the details, and you had become fluent in reading between the lines.
"Cute isn't the word choice that I would go with," The scientist muttered after changing the specimen again with you slowly moving to hover behind him.
"So sorry, you're right, my boyfriend looks very handsome when he's analyzing..." You trailed off for a second, squinting to read the cursive label soon the slide, "Ganoderma Gibbsom."
He spared a glance over his shoulder, the faintest blush still in his cheeks as he leaned back ever so slightly so the curve of his back was flush to your front, "Excellent pronunciation."
"I've had a pretty good teacher." You hummed at the praise, pressing a kiss to the shoulder of his lab coat and then one to his jawline, internally preening at how he leaned into the contact. Egon chuckled- your favorite sound amplified by how the sound vibrated through his chest and into your skin- before tilting his head so his lips could catch yours briefly. You smiled against his kiss, "How's your fungus, honey?"
"It's preparing to reproduce." He informed you, motioning the microscope towards you- both to share his interest and to have a moment to wipe your lipstick off his lips. He leaned sideways so you could scoot forwards and press an eye to the ocular piece. You squinted against the bright light and observed for a moment.
It was, in fact, fungus. Just fungus to you, and it looked exactly what fungus should look like- fungussy like. But, if it was interesting to Egon, so it was interesting to you. You watched the specimens wiggle a bit before relinquishing the microscope back to the scientist.
"Getting real hot and heavy in there," You joked, pressing one last kiss to the top of his head, "Should I leave you two alone?"
Egon rolled his eyes but his famous sideways smile crept up as his gaze followed you back to your stool, "You're no better than Venkman."
"I'm a little better than Venkman." You retorted with a faux sense of offense, hand to your chest though your grin was cheeky. Egon hummed as he jotted something down, so you flicked a discarded straw wrapper at him, giggling when he only offered you a withering look.
"You love me." You 'reminded' him, taking you assigned seat and parking it across his work bench so you could be closer to him. Peeking over his microscope at you, his gaze softened as he nodded curtly.
"I do." Egon's voice was soft and sincere- some might say even out of character but you knew that tone was reserved just for you. His admission earned him another smile as you took your book back out.
The lab fell back into comfortable silence, just the two of you enjoying the other's presence as you each worked on your own hobby. Or, at least, Egon worked on his. You couldn't get past the the page you had opened to- not for lack of interest, earlier Winston had gotten through an entire conversation before he realized you were nose deep in your book, and still took five minutes to get your attention, and certainly not for lack of trying, you'd read the first six lines easily fifteen times. By line four your mind would start wandering, by line five you'd be stealing glances at the scientist across from you, and by line six and seven your brain would discard everything you just read in favor of daydreaming.
About twenty minutes passed and you were only able to turn the page once. You did however manage to steal at least seventeen dreamy glances at Egon, mentally decorate your future shared apartment, plan your honeymoon, and a hundred other little things. Between thoughts of the future, there was also reminiscing. How you met, late nights in the lab, the long and awkward pining phase, patching him up after busts, your first kiss, all the times you'd made him laugh...
"What are you thinking about?" Egon asked, looking up from his notes. That was one of the things you loved about him, despite being the smartest guy in any room, he always wanted to know what was going on in your head. His voice snapped you out of your own mind, this time you did blush.
"Oh, not much, just reading." You shrugged after clearing your throat, holding your book up with a little shake as if to say- see?
"You're average reading rate is 300-350 words per minute, yet you've only turned the page once since you opened the book again, suggesting your mind is preoccupied with something else." He explained. How could you forget just how observant the scientist was, of course he would notice your distraction. You sighed.
"You're going to think I'm crazy." You laughed a bit, knowing even you thought you were a little crazy. Egon simply arched a single eyebrow over his glasses, as if to say, 'try me.'
"Should I remind you that we're still excavating marshmallow goo out of all our gear from the 100 foot staypuft marshmallow man?" He asked sarcastically, pushing the microscope aside to give you his undivided attention. You breathed a short laugh- how could you forget? Ray still complained about Ecto1's permanently stick back seat.
You met Egon's dark eyes, his oh-so-always-serious face, his large calloused hands folded in front of him as he waited for you to explain. Leaning forward, you traced a single but gentle nail over one of the small scars that decorated his left hand, product of lab work gone wrong, you had been the one to bandage it.
"I know you don't believe in the idea, but..." You trailed off, folding your hands into his. As always, his hands, large and warm, gentle despite the roughness of working, encompassed yours completely. Like they were made for you and you alone, "I didn't until I met you. I think, if soulmates are real, then you must be mine."
After you said it, you closed your eyes, expecting his to spare a laugh or have some scientific lecture to disprove your rather sappy theory. You had no doubt Egon loved you, he proved it in little ways everyday, but he was still a man of science through and through. He didn't believe in luck, superstitions, destiny, or fate. When he didn't immediately rebuff you, you peeked your eyes back open to find the scientist deep in thought.
His brow was furrowed like It did when he was trying to figure something out, usually you loved that look, loved watching how his brain worked, but now it made you a little nervous. Your relationship with Egon hadn't followed any of the typical time markers or milestones of normal relationships- but maybe it was too early to droop the 'we were made for each other' on him. Or maybe, he just didn't agree.
"Many scientists believe that the carbon that makes us up is billions of years old, even trillions. Remnants of supernovas and dying stars, and it was this stardust that drifted for lightyears before eventually being composed into planets, flora, fauna, and eventually humans. Using that notion, one could hypothesize that perhaps our idea off soulmates could be reduced to two individuals sharing carbon of the same origin, finding its way back to itself over and over again in the carbon cycle despite all odds," Egon thought aloud, staring at your interlocked hands before lifting his gaze to your eyes, "Perhaps, that could explain our immediate attraction, how we play to each other, gravitate towards the other... carbon matter, stardust, soulmates, perhaps could be all the same thing."
You were stunned to silence, picking through the scientific jargon absorbing perhaps the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to you, but Egon wasn't finished.
"And whole I can't definitively prove or disprove this theory, I... savor the idea of us being soulmates. Very few other things in the world make as much sense to me as that." His admission was quiet, though it echoed around your head for a while all you could do was stare back at him with tears threatening to prick the the corners of your eyes, "So, in summary, no, I don't think you're crazy, (Y/N)."
Blinking your tears away, you forced a chuckle through a suddenly tight throat, squeezing his hands before lifting them so you could press a sweet kiss to his knuckles.
"That was the sweetest, most romantic science lesson I've ever heard, Egon," You whispered, feelings running crazy but offering a grin nonetheless.
"I concur, though I think in most relationships such heartfelt confessions are punctuated by more than just a kiss to the hand." Egon theorized, arching another brow at you. You laughed, roughly wiping a happy tear away as you nodded.
You pretended to think about it fore a moment before reaching into the drawer nearest you where you knew your quarry laid. With a smirk, you slid the worn out 'maid service Do-not-disturb' door sign across the table to him.
"I think you might be right, Dr. Spengler."
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gallwithapall · 2 years
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Pretty science man pretty science man
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tedesquire · 2 years
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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 💜💜💜
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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.
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lilysketchingsth · 10 months
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Egon, practicing his lines for the GB commercial: Look out Winston! He's a mean one!
Me, sitting across the room, thinking he can't hear me: Mr.Grinch~🎶
Egon: ...
Me: ...
Egon: You really are a heel🎶
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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
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wilders-girl · 1 year
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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 ♡
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"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 😈
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eebydeebyderby · 2 years
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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.” 
454 notes · View notes
shizzlepianist · 8 months
Text
“good morning, dr. spengler..”————————————————-
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a/n: WOOOOO my first EVER oneshot! excuse how terrible this may be, the last time i remember writing anything related to oneshots/fanfics was when i was about 11? soo if this is terrible then my sincerest apologies 😭
this is essentially an introduction between (Y/N) and Spengs, after you call for a Ghostbuster to come check out a paranormal experience happening in your home, and it just happens to be Egon.
FYI: This story uses the title ‘Miss’, when the character is being addressed, so just putting that out there first! Also, as I’m sure you’ll already know, (Y/N) and (L/N) refer to your first and last name.
There is also a usage of the word ‘God’, used in an expression-y sort of way, so if that offends anyone then please do let me know so I can change it for next time!
enjoy!! :)
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An abrupt clattering coming from your kitchen was what woke you up at nearly 4 a.m.
Thoroughly disturbed, you sat bolt upright and turned on your bedroom lamp, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and slowly moving out of bed to go investigate the mysterious noise.
Another bang.
You jumped about a foot off of the floor, before continuing and not letting your downright fear get the better of you.
Eventually, you reached the kitchen, and turned on the light. Three china plates had ‘mysteriously’ fallen out of the cupboard and smashed onto the floor. Little pieces of plate were scattered all over, much to your disappointment. As if on cue, a growling noise came from your pantry door. It took you less than a second to fling the door open and investigate what the noise was.
A vast, cloudy setting appeared in front of you, and an ancient building could be seen in the distance. “Z U U L”, cried a demonic voice.
That was it. The pantry door was slammed, the kitchen light was turned off and you were running back, screaming. Once you reached your bedroom, you wrapped yourself in the covers and tried desperately to fall back to sleep. No luck.
A few hours passed, and it was now a reasonable time to get up. You didn’t dare go near the kitchen, so you stayed in your apartment living room and turned on the TV.
You didn’t pay much attention to the TV for long, as you had your head stuck in a magazine you had found at the local newsagents. That was, until, you heard an advert on television.
“Are you troubled by strange noises in the middle of the night?” questioned a friendly-looking man, whose name tag read “STANTZ.”
A second man, named “SPENGLER”, asked, “Do you experience feelings of dread in your basement or attic?”
“Have you or any of your family ever seen a spook, spectre, or ghost?” inquired the third, “VENKMAN”.
Stantz continued, “…if the panswer is yes then don’t wait another minute. Pick up your phone and call the professionals.”
“GHOSTBUSTERS,” they said in unison.
“Our courteous and efficient staff is on call twenty four hours a day to serve all your supernatural elimination needs,” Stantz informed.
“We’re ready to believe you!” was the final sentence of the advert, but even before that you had already picked up your telephone and dialled the number on-screen.
Within seconds, a Long Island accent spoke down the phone.
“Hello, Ghostbusters, how can I help you?”
“Uh… t-… there was some strange noises coming from my kitchen this morning, like bangs, and.. and clatters, and then when I checked, three of my plates had been thrown on the floor and smashed. And then, and then… I heard snarling coming from my pantry, and there was this creature in there saying “Zuul.”Could you send someone to come check it out?” You said in one long, quick sentence.
“Absolutely, just let me know the address and I’ll send someone straight to you,” the lady replied.
Sure enough, you gave her your address. “Thank you!” you chimed, before putting the phone down and tidying up a little before the Ghostbuster arrived. Playing back the advertisement, you looked at the man whose name was “SPENGLER”.
He is incredibly handsome, you thought. You were hoping on the inside that Dr. Spengler would come and analyse the scene that had occurred in your-
Knock, knock.
Jeez, how close is the Ghostbusters’ office?
You opened the door to meet a tall, bespectacled man with a charming smile and slightly curly hair.
He held his hand out and smiled, “Dr. Egon Spengler, nice to meet you.”
“Good morning, Dr. Spengler,” you replied, your tummy filling with that butterfly feeling.
“Where was the ghost activity that happened this morning? Janine, our receptionist didn’t tell me anything except your address and that you needed some help,” he chuckled, making your heart skip a beat again.
“In there,” you pointed to the kitchen door.
“Okay, has there been any more phenomena since you called?”
You shook your head.
Egon held a device in his hand that had little arms protruding out of it, slowly lowering and then getting higher, then lower, and so on, and made his way into the kitchen.
“Oh, jeez, it seems you really did need our help,” claimed Dr. Spengler, directing his eyes to the pieces of china plate laying on the floor.
“What is that thing?” you asked, motioning to the thing he was holding.
“This is a PKE meter, we use them pretty often. It helps us detect how much supernatural activity there is in an area. If the arms are at a low height, then there’s little to no activity and no need for a full-blown bust. If the arms are right at the top, then it’s serious and we have to deal with it immediately. At the minute, the level of paranormal activity in your kitchen is just over halfway, which obviously isn’t ideal but not the worst.”
“Ohh,” you responded, nodding slowly.
Shuddering, Egon turned his attention to some gooey green slime that was collecting on the edge of the plate cupboard.
“Great. Ectoplasm,” he collected a little bit in a small plastic tub, before asking, “…would you mind coming back to the firehouse, just to run a few tests and to further investigate your phenomena?” questioned Spengler.
“No, no, I wouldn’t mind at all,” you smiled, leading Dr. Spengler out of your apartment, locking the door and heading down the building stairs to the Ghostbusters’ car.
When you arrived at the firehouse, the three scientists you had seen on TV, Venkman, Stantz (who had both introduced themselves to you as Ray and Peter) and Spengler were all asking you questions and running tests. Sticky pads wired up to a machine were attached to your temples, and you could see it was being managed by Dr. Spengler.
“What do you think it was that caused your plates to smash, Miss..?”
“(L/N). (Y/N)(L/N). Uh, I mean, I think it was a ghost or a spirit that did it, hence why I rang up this morning. I think it’s something like a… a.. poltergeist? Isn’t that a ghost that throws things?”
“You are absolutely fantastic, Miss (L/N). Absolutely phenomenal, that’s correct,” called Dr. Venkman, smiling and applauding you.
Egon rolled his eyes. “Venkman, will you quit trying to chat up our clients, please?” he remarked, while adjusting the tabs on your head and looking at the screen to his left.
Both you and Ray laughed, while Venkman’s facial expression was stone cold.
“I don’t think he found that very funny,” you laughed, which made Stantz roar with laughter again, and Peter leave the room.
“Alright, so your tests all seem to be normal, so that means whatever paranormal entity is in your apartment hasn’t reached you, thankfully,” concluded Egon, gently removing the testing tabs from you.
Picking up your bag and coat, you thanked the boys for their help, and made your way down the firehouse stairs.
You were swiftly followed by the Ghostbusters, who waved goodbye to you and asked you to call back if anything else happened.
As they turned away to walk back up the stairs, you called out,
“…Dr. Spengler?”
He turned on his heel quicker than he had arrived at your apartment. “Hm?”
“I- I’d like to give you this,” you slid a piece of paper with your number written on it into his hand, and smiled.
He looked down at it through his glasses, lifted his head up and smiled back.
“Thank you, Miss (L/N). I’ll make sure to give you a call at some point. Thanks again for calling this morning,” he put his hand on your shoulder, failing to wipe the smile off of his face. He was smiling like an idiot as he removed his hand from your shoulder and walked away.
When you had finally left the firehouse, you let out a sigh of relief mixed with infatuation.
God, he was handsome.
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ending a/n: help i feel like this is gonna be a flop with a capital F loool , if you enjoyed this let me know and i’ll make more ig?? have a great day/night everyone 😌😌
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emeraldborealis · 1 year
Text
Snow Globe
Pairing: Egon Spengler x Fem!reader
TW//CW: Hurt/comfort, seasonal trauma, fluff.
Words: 3,105
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It was December and Christmas was coming to the firehouse, one carefully placed decoration at a time.
The weather in New York City was becoming more and more bitter by the day, and it seemed the people were too.
In the warmth of the firehouse things felt a little better, a friendliness like a home welcomed you whenever you entered the huge double doors. Hanging garland and lights was also a sure fire way to brighten your own spirits and help keep away the seasonal depression.
With every ornament you hung on the Christmas tree that Winston had taken you to pick out and helped you bring in made a feeling of saudade fester inside of you.
The holiday season was something you always looked forward to, even through the bad memories and childhood trauma, you still tried to look forward to it. You decorated almost to the extreme with inherited decor, and you took part in every tradition and event. But you never really truly cared. It was just something you did, like brushing your teeth, a habit you felt was wrong to give up.
You tried to hang on to the good the season brought, instead of how every Christmas was typically ruined for you.
Pulling an old snow globe out of a box you turned it over and wound it up, before placing it down onto a windowsill with many other small glass decorations to watch the base turn while a music box Christmas tune played on repeat. The world around you seemed to fade away as you focused on the ever turning of the Christmas scene carefully sculpted and hand painted. Just as it had all those years ago, when you were just a little girl trying to block out the constant arguing and yelling of a poor, broken household.
The snow globe was your grandmothers, she'd left it and most of her other decorations for you when she passed. She was the one who when things would start getting violent between the adults she'd take you into the other room and wind up the snow globe. With a gentle smile she'd tell you to watch it while she mediated the adults.
Like an old friend you left the snow globe playing on the chilled windowsill to finish putting up everything else.
Occasionally one of the boys would walk in and help you for a minute, complimenting the work you had done alone. Saying how you made the firehouse feel more like a home, before eventually wandering back out.
You hummed along to a Christmas tune setting up some mistletoe on the garland in the doorway, something you had always wanted to do but never got the chance to.
"How's the tree doing? Is it all situated and comfortable?" Winston asked walking into the room admiring the lights and ornaments adorning the pine trees many branches, he took notice of the even placing of the ornaments, leaving no awkward gaps or overly cluttered areas, some ornaments were coupled together, but they were obviously a pair, so it would not make sense to separate them. He knew that each ornament was probably placed deliberately on the tree, probably in the same general spot every year. You weren't one for liking change.
The tree's scent filled the room and with each breath it brought a different memory to mind for everyone, most of them for most people being fond.
"Well, it's decorated, I don't know if it's comfortable. I can't imagine it is, considering it was cut down to be in someone's house for 3 weeks before being thrown away like it didn't spend years trying to grow to the size it is." You answered placing a few nutcrackers on a shelf adorning a blue cloth that glittered with small stars and fake snow.
"Well, she looks happy to me." Winston spoke, softly running his fingers down the needles of a branch.
"That's good." You came over to where he was standing, watching him for a moment. "Do you think Egon will like the decorations? He doesn't seem like the type who ever celebrated Christmas."
"I'm sure he won't mind them." Winston reassured you before turning to leave the room. "Well, I have work to do. Let me know if you need me to help you at all with anything."
"Will do." Most of the firehouse was already decorated, the lights had been tested for faults and burned out bulbs and everything was in the place that made the most sense to you. You tried to keep the main floor as lightly decorated as you could, not wanting it to look cluttered for clients but still wanting it to have some kind of festive feel to it.
You enjoyed completing tasks, you enjoyed efficiency in doing them too, so you liked decorating. You liked finding places for things and organizing them into scenes and neat clusters. You liked everything to have a place and to find one for it. You also liked the look of Christmas, you had this vision in your head of what a perfect Christmas should look like, and you always tried to replicate it, to have a Christmas like you saw in the movies. You also liked giving gifts to those you love. But nothing else about the holiday particularly struck your fancy.
Sitting down into a chair near the window you rewound the snow globe to listen to its familiar tune once more. You were positive that it would begin to annoy the others in the firehouse after a while, so you enjoyed it while you still could.
After a while you lost interest in the constant spinning of the snow globe and you wandered into the lab to do something else. Standing at the entrance to the lab you noticed Egon peering into a microscope and feverishly taking notes.
Walking over to him you greeted him. "Looking at something interesting?"
"Yes, I'm looked at some ectoplasm I had Ray collect for me on his last call and comparing it to an ectoplasm sample I collected last month. The differences in their molecular structure interest me." Egon answered without taking his eyes from the microscope, or his pencil from his notes. Egon was really good at multitasking, he could carry a legible conversation while calculating serious equations and doing his work.
"Does a difference in classification of the ghost show a significant difference in its structure? Or the intent of the spirits existence? Like malice versus sadness." You inquired quite intrigued by the study.
"That's what I'm researching." Egon answered still refusing to turn away from his work, it didn't particularly bother you. You knew he was still listening to you and would comprehend and remember everything you said. "Did you finish decorating the firehouse for Christmas? Ray told me it was looking good when he came down to grab something earlier."
"I did." You answered shortly. Thinking for a moment you then asked. "When you were a kid did you believe in Santa Claus?"
"No. I didn't receive toys either, I got science kits and things to further my education." He answered finally looking away from the microscope, but not to look at you, it was to check his notes were legible and to turn to a new blank page in his notebook. "Did you?"
"No. My family was too poor to do gifts from them and from Santa, and they didn't care for the tradition anyways. Thought it was all malarky." Shifting your weight from foot to foot you thought back to your childhood Christmas's. Something you were doing a lot today, and something you didn't care for doing. But the season itself was bound to bring memories to mind. "The holiday season was one of the only times I felt my parents actually cared about me, because they'd save up all year to be able to give me something. My mother was still always worried about money though, she'd start constant fights in December over it. She'd yell and scream at my father all day and all night, until he'd just leave. Go back into the office and work more just to get away from her. But he had his problems too."
"Do you feel you missed out on something growing up poor and without believing in Santa?" Egon looked to you only for a moment to gage your reaction to his question before he turned back to his microscope.
"No, it was just the way it was. Sure it was hard watching the other kids with their multitudes of gifts from both their parents and from Santa, and also their naivety to the seasons strain on the lower class. It was sometimes hard to see them have something to put their faith and hope in, when I had nothing but the cold hard bitter truth, fear and aloneness." You answered honestly, you felt comfortable sharing pieces of your childhood with Egon. You didn't feel that way with anyone else.
"I don't care for the belief in Santa, and I'm sure when all those kids found out he wasn't real their worlds were shattered. So, I wouldn't feel too bad for not having that, or gifts, or anything else. You had the truth, and in a confused world that can sometimes be the hardest thing to find." Egon offered his attempts to comfort you. His words did little to console the hurt child inside of you, who yearned for something to believe in. But through age, conditioning and experience you knew he was probably right.
"Yeah, you're right." You took a peak at his notes, they were filled with words and things not even in a million years you'd understand. A sudden shiver shot up your spine and you took notice of how cold the lab felt. "It's cold in here, so I'm going to go sit in the living room area and make some hot chocolate. Would you like some?"
"Yes, that sounds good. Thank you. Use my hot chocolate behind the canned soup, it's the best kind." He turned from his microscope to you to give his instructions, making sure you understood them. And to simply look at you.
"Is it behind the canned soup because you're hiding it from everyone else?" You quirked a playful brow at him, adorning his signature smirk. Something you'd picked up a habit of imitating from being around him so much, he didn't seem to mind though.
"It's very expensive. You can have some if you'd like though." He gave you the softest and smallest smile you'd ever seen. The sight of it made butterflies flit in your stomach.
"Thank you Egon." You returned his smile back to him.
"Of course." With his last regards he turned his spinny chair back around and began peering into the microscope once more, his pencil already scratching away on the paper of the notebook as his free hand adjusted a dial on the side.
Entering the kitchen you began searching through the cabinets behind the canned soup, reaching all the way to the back you felt a tin container, pulling it out you inspected it, it was Egon's hot chocolate, and it was definitely expensive. It was Belgian hot chocolate, actually from Belgium. You could only imagine the cost to get it here.
Grabbing a pot from the rack and the milk from the fridge you measured out two mugs and began heating the milk, adding heavy cream once it got warmer. You weren't sure whether you should add the powder to the mugs or the pot so you decided on the pot. You also weren't sure how much you'd need so you added little by little until it tasted how you imagined it should. Admittedly you'd never had Belgian hot chocolate.
As you waited patiently for the milk to warm you got bread and the fixings from the fridge to make sandwiches, you thought they might help balance the sweet thickness of the hot chocolate.
Pouring the warm hot chocolate into mugs you placed them on a tray along with the sandwiches and went back into the lab.
"Egon, I have your hot chocolate for you. I made you lunch too." Hearing your voice and promise of food and hot chocolate he turned away from his microscope and notepad.
"Perfect timing. I'll take a break from working and we can eat together." He stood from his chair and removed his lab coat, he hung it on a hook before he ussured you back out of the lab and lead you into the living room.
"Are you sure you're not going to get behind on your work?" You asked as you placed the tray on a small end table, taking one of the seats by the windowsill.
"No, I'll be alright." He took the seat across from you at the windowsill, before he grabbed his mug of hot chocolate from the tray and took a cautious sip, testing the temperature. "You did well with making this, good job. Did you decide to have some  as well?"
"I did." You answered grabbing your own mug, sipping on the hot liquid, it was unbelievably sweet, but so, so good.
Looking around the room he admired the decorations, noticing each and every one's placement. His eyes lingered on the mistletoe in the doorway for a moment longer than anything else, realizing you'd both walked under it but didn't stop. A sudden warmth blossomed in his cheeks and he looked towards the tree to stop his thoughts, clearing his throat and adjusting in his chair.
"Do you know what everyone's doing for Christmas? Is everyone leaving to spend it with their families? Are you leaving?" You asked curiously feeling a pit of anxious nerves in your stomach, you didn't want to spend Christmas without Egon. You were scared you wouldn't be able to make it through without his constant calm demeaner. Grabbing the snow globe from off the windowsill you wound it up before placing it back down to watch it turn, the soft music box's tune filling the room.
"I'm staying, I don't care to take time off for the holiday when I can instead get work done. I'm not sure about Peter and Winston, I believe Ray is staying too, said something about sibling drama he didn't want to deal with." Egon answered watching the way your eyes were trained to the continuous turning of the snow globes base.
"I see, I invited my cousin to make Christmas dinner here. I hope you don't mind, you're more than welcome to join. Ray too, I think he'd get along well with my cousin." Sensing his eyes on you, you turned to make eye contact with him.
"It's not a problem. I can help make the turkey if you'd like." He took his final swallow of his hot chocolate and placed his mug back on the tray with his plate from the sandwich he finished some time ago.
"That'd be wonderful, thank you." The final tink of the snow globe sounded through the room, you made no immediate actions to rewind it. Feeling content looking at Egon and being in the comfortable silence of each others company.
"Have you ever spent Christmas with your cousin?" Reaching you picked the snow globe back up and rewound it again. Thinking on how you'd like to answer his question.
"No, she's on the side of the family I hardly saw growing up. But over the past year or so we've been writing to each other, we're close enough in age and could both use a friend. She doesn't know what Christmas was like in my household growing up, so don't tell her. Please." You avoided his gaze and looked towards the snow globe again, his eyes followed yours and he too watched the entrancing turning of the snow globe
"I won't tell. Don't worry." He spoke softly, he wanted you to know you could have full confidence in him without it making you nervous. "Does the snow globe hold significance to you? I noticed it's the only decoration you keep touching and looking at."
"It does, but I'd rather not get into it. It's hard to talk about sometimes, if that makes sense?" At the direct question about the snow globe you had been staring at so intently almost this whole time, you turned to look at him instead. Maybe trying to subconsciously play it off as meaning nothing to you.
"Yes, It makes sense. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to." Noticing the snow globe had stopped playing, and that you were beginning to get a bit fidgety with your hands, Egon picked it up and rewound the bottom, setting it back down for you to keep watching.
"I don't know how this Christmas is going to play out. And that scares me, there's so much change so fast, and I have this vision of what I'd like it to be, and if it falls short of that I'm afraid I won't know what to do. My cousin has all these traditions she wants to do with me from her childhood, but what if I'm not the best person for her to spend the holiday with? What if I ruin her Christmas?" You rubbed your hands together staring intently at the snow globe, feeling more afraid and anxious than you had in a long time around the holidays.
Leaning forward Egon carefully took your hand in his, interdigitating your fingers, he hoped he hadn't overstepped a boundary or frightened you by doing so. He just didn't want you to spiral into panic. "It's going to be alright, I'm here for you, and I'm not leaving. I'll make sure your Christmas is a good one, even if I have to kick everyone else out of the firehouse to do it. But I won't because everything's going to work out, not necessarily how you planned, but it will work out. You'll have a great time with your cousin. She's not the problem, you're not the problem. You can get through this holiday season."
"Thank you Egon, for everything. The hot chocolate was delicious, thank you for sharing it with me. I'd never had Belgian hot chocolate before today." You gave him a small smile before continuing. "Well, I should probably clean up and you should probably get back to work." Egon nodded as you stood from you chair, you gathered everything onto the tray to clean up, he quickly followed suit in standing up and following you to leave the room.
"Oh- y/n?" You turned to him standing beside you in the entryway to the room.
"Yeah?" Leaning in he placed a soft kiss to the top of your head before pointing up.
"Mistletoe." He answered.
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seelenpein72 · 2 years
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Peter: Hey Y/N, are you free on Friday? Like around eight?
Y/N: Yeah
Peter: And you, Egon?
Egon: umm... yes?
Peter: Great! Because I'm not. You two go out without me. Enjoy your date!
Y/N: Did he just...
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chaotic--nat · 1 year
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Can I have egon x reader where it's their first time and he sees the scars she has and he kisses them make it extra fluffy!
Egon Spengler x Reader with scars !
content: gn!reader, light nsfw?, implied that reader has scars, fluffy romantic relationship with egon spengler <3, 
word count: 540 !!
Evenings were the most fun you had with Egon! He was off of work, you got to enjoy his company and listen to his interesting ghost busting stories as you rested your head on his shoulder. His adventures always amazed you, especially when you got to see the sparkle in his eyes; you could tell he was passionate about his career! 
You had invited Egon to spend the night with you in your apartment, he gladly accepted as he enjoyed a twinkie. Anytime Egon stays over it gives you this spark of energy! “Let’s go out for a night on the town!” You stated as you began to pick out an outfit for the evening. “Hmm, alright. What exactly did you have in mind for this outing? I know the museum has a new exhibit we haven’t explored.” He stated nonchalantly as his made way to the entrance of your room. The light from the closet highlighted your shadowed figure,,
“May I come in?” Egon asked as he knocked on your open door, “Go for it! You know you're welcome here!” You smiled as you made your way out of your closet, holding articles of clothing in front of your figure, “which would look better for our exploration this evening? This or this?” As you swayed the clothing in front of you, Egon quickly caught glimpses of your figure. He wasn’t one to stare but he always found every single part of you stunning, though something caught his attention as he slowly made his way toward you. It caught you off guard as Egon moved the clothing to the side, his eyes analyzing every curve of your body faster than you could process what he was doing. Before his eyes returned to look down at yours, he politely asked “If you're comfortable with telling me, how did you get these?” You looked at him a bit puzzled before you let out a small laugh; you explained to Egon how you received the scars and he looked at you bewildered. As you continued looking at the man before you perplexed; he leaned down to kiss your cheek, then your lips, then finally he asked “Are you comfortable with me kissing the scars? I’d never wish to make you uncomfortable..” Your face went a bit flushed as he asked before giving him the okay by nodding..his scattered kisses on your plush skin were so soft and comforting, you’d never expect him to not only be interesting in learning about the scars but actually kissing them, it felt like some form of relief for you! 
As Egon’s kisses made their way back up to your lips, you couldn’t help but squirm, they felt like a dream to you, something so unexpected yet so pleasing.. you were soon snapped out of your train of thoughts and back to reality as Egon suggested “go with the first outfit; it’ll fit the theme of the exhibit, the mysteries of the world.” You did your best to pretend that his kisses didn’t have that much of an affect on you as you happily took his suggestion and finished getting ready for date night!
who knows, maybe you got more of those kisses after visiting the exhibit ;)
authors note: HI !! I procrastinated writing this, lolol !! I hope I hit every check mark with the request !! If you have any constructive criticism, lemme know !! This is my first drabble so I wanted to keep it short and sweet :)
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twinkie-buttercream · 2 years
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Psychomagnetheric Passions
[Egon Spengler x F!Reader]
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Pairing: Egon Spengler x F!Reader
Rating: M/18+ MDNI!
Summary: another shameless slimefucking fic. you catch Egon running some of the more invasive experiments and...well, we all know how potent charged psychomagnetheric ooze can be, on even the strongest minds.
Mentions: the goo, oral fixation, p in v sex, lots of jizz, eventual fluff, praise, F on top, more fun ;0
Gif isn't mine!
--
It was mood responsive. That much was clear. The thick pink ooze that Ray and the guys had been experimenting on since going back into business, it seemed to think and feel, and it felt what you felt. You'd seen them yell at it, sing to it, cry to it; Ray even tried to scare it. It didn't work.
They'd microwaved it, froze it, toasted it, baked it, stuck it through a centrifuge, dunked it in multiple solutions and chemicals, boiled it, run it over with a vehicle, everything they could possibly try, it was going to be attempted in the name of science.
You should have known it was going to get out of hand. You didn't expect to wander into the lab late one night to reclaim the book you'd been reading earlier whilst pestering Egon as he studied the slime, and find him still there, hunched over the desk. Something lewd was happening, if the scent of sweat and the slight squelching sounds were any indication, let alone his heavy breathing.
"Dr. Spengler?" You should have known better than to interrupt, but your book was directly beside him on that desk. There was no way to avoid it.
There was a wet popping sound, a glass slamming, and he turned, lab coat suddenly folded over his front. You could see the protrusion from his hips tenting the fabric quite conspicuously. Damn, it really was always the quiet ones. The slime on the table bubbled slightly suddenly.
"Y/N, I didn't...oh shit," he panted, finding no way out, no explanation; not even Venkman could have lied his way out of a scenario like that. "Y/N. Hello."
"Sorry to interrupt your, uh...well, uh, business or pleasure?" You gestured to the tub of slime poking out from where he leaned on the desk.
It stirred again, just a slight bubbling, but you noticed. It seemed to twitch when he did.
"Ah..." Egon was at a loss for words.
Something, oddly enough, drew you to take a few steps forward, into the room and toward the scientist and his experiment. The bubbling continued; Egon noticed, turned and jotted the reaction down.
"I just came for my book," you uttered, and he jumped two feet out of his skin when your voice came from right behind him. You hadn't even noticed your feet carry you there.
He whirled around again, and his eyes were wild, there was something there that wasn't fully Egon.
"Is that all?" He asked, his voice lowered somewhat, already deep enough naturally the extra bass was almost enticing.
The slime in the jar bubbled again, a bit more aggressive this time, nearing the three-quarter mark of the wide, long beaker it had been placed in, threatening to pour over.
"Doesn't the slime react to strong feelings?" You inquired, ignoring his question, leaning on the desk to take a closer look at the bright pink ooze.
As something of a scientist yourself, you didn't seem bothered or disgusted like any other person would. Even the guys probably wouldn't have been so calm. Truth be told you were freaking out internally, this was not a situation you ever expected to find yourself in with the brainiac you'd had the hots for since your college days. You dipped your finger in the ooze curiously. It was warm in the way that chemicals heated when they reacted, but not hot, and had no notable smell. It bubbled again, trying to build back up from where you'd popped it back down into the beaker.
"It wasn't reacting like that until you intervened," he told you suddenly, gently but firmly grabbing your now contaminated hand, holding it tight at the wrist to inspect it closely.
"That so?" Your heart began to pound at the implications, and you heard a blorp from behind you as if to confirm the tension; if you weren't living this out moment by moment, you'd find it funny, but you could have choked on your heartbeat right then.
"Yes. I've been running...trials...with the slime to see which emotions it reacts to more potently. Hate, of course, has been the strongest, but it's reacted well to good feelings too, and..." He was having an immense amount of trouble stringing sentences together, it seemed, and every time he looked at your hand and then at you, the slime borbled behind you, almost threateningly.
"And it only started showing response to your experiments with the emotion of lust when a secondary subject entered the room? Maybe due to the sensational thrill of being caught doing what you were?"
He balked slightly, and steadied himself on the desk, still clutching your wrist. The slime grew hotter on your fingers and the remainder in the jar began to sway for a moment.
"Variably," he grunted, getting a little closer, "but I suspect the responses would have been different if it were...anyone but...you."
"And why is that, Dr. Spengler?"
The slime spilled out of the tube and down the sides of the beaker. Egon's lips crashed upon yours, almost not of his own volition...almost. His hand never left your wrist but the free one found your hip, squeezing his fingers into your flesh from over your sweater.
"You don't have to play a fool," he growled when you separated, only due to a screaming need for oxygen; the slime was rolling now, doubling in volume, making a mess; "you know every single one of us has wanted you since you showed up, that's why you're constantly teasing us, knowing we respect you too much to try anything like this."
"All of you? Really? You think I'm teasing you?" You repeated, incredulous, "Dr. Spengler, I don't know what you mean—"
He kissed you forcefully again, hand coming up to cup your face now; he seemed to grow gentle and the slime continued to roil steadily behind you, like a boiling pot.
"You may not, but...believe me. I speak only for myself now...I am not normally a man of...physical desire...but you...I just can't resist..."
He seemed to be fighting whatever was clouding his judgment. Your mind had started to grow foggy too. It was like being high, the cloudiness and the floating feeling, but there was something else. Suddenly you began to understand the urgency in him as it bloomed inside your gut. The feelings of attraction he spoke of had already been present for ages, in both of you it turns out, but the slime rocketed them almost out of proportion. It was practically comical how badly you ached for Egon Spengler right then. Speaking of rockets, Egon was close enough now that you felt his stiffness brush against your leg as he looked at you, held you close.
"Would you like a volunteer?" You breathed suddenly, looking up into his clouded brown eyes, which widened for a brief moment.
"For what?" He urged, curiosity briefly winning out over lust.
Your hand found his hard cock and stroked it over his lab coat. He leaned into your touch desperately.
"Whatever you want, Dr. Spengler, I'm yours," you grinned at him; no more words escaped either of you.
Neither of you paid any mind to the jiggling overexcited slime as you were hoisted into the overflowing puddle at the edge of the desk. The skirt you were wearing got shoved up around your hips and your panties were swiftly ripped away, quite literally; you felt the fabric tear and watched Egon fling the black cotton aside. He spread your legs and, without warning, stuffed his face between them. His tongue was swift and nimble, sliding through your wet slit, and when he tasted you he growled a primal growl, digging his fingers into your exposed hips as he ate you out like you were to be his last meal.
"Egon!" You gasped, surprised at the immediate attack, but quickly melting under his talented lips.
He toyed with your clit and sucked at it, licked it, stuck a few slime-coated fingers inside your already-wet pussy, not waiting to let you adjust. You stifled a moan by biting your lip hard.
"That's it," he grunted, "be good for me, darling."
The whole thing felt desperate and primal, like the world was going to end if this didn't happen, or was already ending and this was your last hurrah. Either way he was certainly not holding anything back. There was slime on those fingers and now, that hot thick ooze was inside you, sticking to your walls, and whatever affect it had before from atmospheric exposure became amplified to an extreme. You became voracious. You ground your hips against his face, pulled his hair, swore at him; he only growled in response, sending vibrations through your core, making you cry out all the louder. The slime had hit the floor now as it grew, dripping steadily, adding a lewd noise to the background. Neither of you noticed.
The first time you came that night was on his tongue and fingers. He worked your pussy until he felt you convulse around his digits. It was only then he paused to let you get a breath, staring up at you behind fogged lenses with an evil grin on his glistening face. He rose to his full height and positioned himself before you, still between your hips. You didn't get any more time to recuperate.
"You're gonna have trouble walking in the morning, I feel you should know," he grunted, teasing the head of his cock at your entrance until you squirmed, and without another moment's hesitation he shoved his whole slime-coated length into you, hard and fast.
The wind was knocked out of you by this. He was huge, thick, and hard as diamond, and gave you no chance to adjust to his bottomed out thick cock before he was pounding into you, rocking the desk at a dangerous pace. That same thick ooze coated your insides now, you could feel it like lava in the most incredible way, and it seemed to ease the pain you felt only slightly; his pace got harder and faster and his fingertips dug hard into the soft flesh of your waist, leaving marks.
"Egon!" You cried out again; it was the only thing you could manage out.
"You look so pretty like this, Y/N, for me," he growled back.
Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as he had his way with you. In just minutes you both hit orgasm, almost simultaneous; he didn't lie. He kept pumping as hard as ever as his hot cum spilled inside you, filling you up. You were unsure if it was because of the slime, due to past recollections not seeming to measure up, but every hot spurt that hit your walls felt like another orgasm in and of itself. You actually felt it hit your walls. That didn't happen in normal instances. Ejaculate just wasn't naturally warm enough or expelled at a high enough velocity to feel there, but this was different. It was probably the slime and its supernatural properties but you sure as fuck enjoyed the sensation of every twitch, every throb, feeling thoroughly bred despite the preventative pill you stayed on. Up till now, it was mainly just for acne control, but you thanked every god and sub-entity in the dimension that you kept up with that little pill.
You laid there, spent, as he caught his breath and adjusted his lenses, wiping the sweat off them.
"D-Dr. Spengler..." You breathed, looking up at him, and you caught his eyes.
The slime bubbled again.
"We're not done," he grunted simply.
Next thing you knew you were on the nearby couch, bent over the arm of the thing with your bare ass in the air. He gave your soft flesh a hard swift smacking, and you cried out at the combination of pain and pleasure. Using his own seed as lubricant now, Egon plunged into you again. He seemed to reach even deeper at this angle and his hands kept a steady grip on your hips. They'd be bruised in the morning. You'd have bigger problems, you're sure. None of it mattered then though; just there, you and him, the carnal lust between you. He pounded you like it was his life's purpose, holding you up when your legs gave out under another powerful orgasm; he pulled your hair for leverage as he followed suit and emptied into you again.
"Y/N," he groaned, "fuck!"
Whatever demon of lust had overcome him jumped into you when your name left his lips. It sounded so good when he said it, but when he said it like that, it was ethereal. When he pulled out, you managed to stand despite violently shaking legs, and grabbed him by his tie, pulling him down into an angry kiss. Tongue fought tongue, you could taste yourself on him. You pushed him down onto the couch cushions, soaked with your combined juices, and you ripped his pants fully off him. Left now in only his lab coat and sweater and tie, you climbed onto him again, sitting on his still-throbbing dick, taking every inch of him easily now. Even after the poundings you've taken he was still massive and stretched you; he looked up at you as you rose slowly, painfully slowly, and slammed back down all at once, knocking the precious air from him. It was your turn to have control. You rode him hard, hands on his chest, his fingers digging into your hips again, he bucked against you and toyed with your clit until you were crying out again, cumming for you don't know how many times then, you'd lost count.
The night carried on like this. Hours passed in carnal sin. He took you against the wall, on the floor, the couch, the desk, any surface he could manage, until the two of you were beyond spent. No human should have been able to produce that much semen, nor handle that much friction on such sensitive areas, but there you were, soaked at the end of the night, inside and out. Spatters of cum meshed with the pink slime on your skin. You were covered in both.
"Y/N, I'm...sorry," Egon whispered to you, holding you naked in his lap as you both fought to maintain consciousness; he was using his pants to try and towel you off gently.
"For what?" You grumbled back, toying with his hair aimlessly as you came down from the slime induced stupor.
"I shouldn't have exposed you to this batch of slime. Results aren't worth ruining our relationship for..."
You gulped. Don't tell me he just spent the last eight hours potentially impregnating you twenty times over only for it all to have been a side effect of The Goo.
"What do you mean, Dr. Spengler?"
"See, that," he looked away; "we've kept it so professional for so long. There were better ways for me to tell you how I feel, without psychomagnetheric ooze. Normal men would have asked you the right way. Flowers, dinner, that kind of thing."
You laughed and he blushed deeply.
"I fail to find the humor in this, Y/N," he frowned.
You kissed him. It was the gentlest of the night by a long stretch, but with the way the then-dormant slime bubbled again, the way he tensed under you and kissed you back, it was the nicest.
"I thought you just wanted to stay colleagues," you uttered, relieved immensely.
"No. You are a fantastic colleague, but...I'd like to be more. If you would too. Much more."
"I'd be happy to be more than just colleagues with you...Egon."
He grinned and bit his lip. He placed a kiss on your lips, gentle and delighted.
"May I call you my girlfriend?"
"You may," you giggled.
It wasn't long after that you fell asleep, both by then naked as the day you were born, wrapped in a thin sheet, surrounded by the messes you'd made and absolutely exhausted. The sun was just beginning to rise on New York City. Birds chirped, people swore at one another on the streets. You were where you were meant to be: with him.
God help whichever of the guys found you like that in a few hours when they came back to work.
---
A/N: Here it is! Like I said, it's not the most original concept, but I wanted to take a shot at it. Hope y'all like it! Requests are open~
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gallwithapall · 2 years
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No thoughts, just Egon adjusting his tie before going down the fire pole on their first mission
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There is no end to my love for him
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attemptingwriter · 2 years
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Dr. Egon Spengler x Reader: Migraine
Egon glanced at his watch, frowning at the time and glanced at the door. It was 5:45. Almost three hours since (Y/N) was supposed to meet Egon in his lab.
It had become a daily occurrence for (Y/N) to accompany Egon in the lab at 3:00 precisely. Some days he had them helping with the experiments and some days he just enjoyed their company.
It was unusual for them to not show up with saying anything.
The door to lab opened and Egon nearly jumped out of his chair. Upon seeing Venkman, he couldn't hide the disappointment on his face.
"Yeah, yeah. Sorry I'm not (Y/N). Who you should probably check on by the way. They haven't left their room since they went to bed last night." Peter said, hopping up on his table.
Choosing to ignore Peter's disrespect for his lab, Egon focused on his words instead. "What do you mean they haven't left their room?"
"Exactly that. They went to bed last night and never came out. They even yelled at Ray and I when we went to check on them."
"And you didn't think to tell me earlier?" Egon pushed himself out of his chair and left the lab, not bothering to wait for a response.
Egon made his way through the firehouse and stopped in front of (Y/N)'s door. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.
"Go away, Peter!" (Y/N) called back.
"It's Egon. May I come in?"
It was silent for a moment before he heard a soft "Yeah."
He entered (Y/N)'s room and immediately noticed the light was turned off. Despite that, he could clearly see (Y/N) laying under the covers with a washcloth on their head.
"Leave the light off, will you please?" (Y/N)'s voice was softer and Egon could hear the pain in it now that he was closer.
"Are you alright?" He asked, walking to their bed.
"Just a migraine. Been trying to sleep it off but it hasn't been working." (Y/N) grabbed the washcloth and flipped it over.
Egon opened his mouth to offer a solution but before he could (Y/N) cut him off.
"And don't tell me to drink water. I've been doing that already." They pointed to their nightstand.
Egon followed their finger and saw numerous glasses, some empty and some half filled with water.
"Well is there anything I can do to help? I was quite worried when you didn't come down like you always do."
(Y/N) bit their tongue, thinking. They didn't think he'd noticed if they missed one day. "Will.. Will you hold me?"
Egon smiled. "Of course." He slipped off his lab coat, tie, shoes and belt and climbed under the covers with (Y/N). He pulled them onto his chest, one hand on their back, the other gently rubbing the back off their head.
"Thank you." (Y/N) said, drifting off to sleep.
"Anytime."
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lilysketchingsth · 1 year
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Tell me why~ your hands~ are cold~
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