#egon spengler fanfictions

[multifandomfanficss]

Never Listen To Venkman

Egon Spengler x Reader

(With platonic!Peter Venkman)

Prompt: When you and Peter are left alone to experiment with a suspicious, blue, viscous slime, things go south and Egon comes home to you having a paranormal induced panic attack.

Warnings: panic attacks, autistic meltdowns, sensory issues, detailed descriptions of sensory issues, feeling uncomfortable in one’s own skin.

A/N: Back in my Ghostbusters era. It is contractually obligated that I must re-obsess every time a new movie comes out. I’ve loved Egon since I was a little kid. I can’t believe I’ve never written for him. The italics are flashbacks. This is crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

The reader is intended to be autistic, but can be read any way you’d like. Anyone is allowed to relate and see themselves in the reader wether they’re autistic or not!

You were sitting at your desk with in your small shared lab with Egon in the firehouse when you heard footsteps. You thought you had been home alone until Peter walked in.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were going on a double date with Winston while Ray and Egon were at the movie.” You questioned him, putting down your pen. You had been taking notes on a new kind of slime the boys had found. It was different from the other slime they’d found last month when Vigo was trying to take over. While Vigo’s slime was pink in color, this slime was blue and had a more viscous consistency.

“Oscar had a fever, so Dana and I decided to cancel. She thinks he’s getting his first tooth.” Peter smiles. Despite the jokes he’s made and the amount of times he’s said he was nowhere near ready to be a father, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy being back with Dana again and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love Oscar just as much as he loved her.

“Did Winston still go?” You ask.

“Oh, yeah. He’s probably back in her apartment with the bed rocking as we speak. No way he’s coming home tonight.” Peter laughed at his own joke as you cringe.

“You’re disgusting.” You roll your eyes.

“What are you up to tonight? Got a hot date with a slime? Not too different from your usual dating life.” He chuckles.

“You’re such a dick, Venkman. I figured while everybody was out tonight I’d try to find out SOMETHING about this new slime. Egon and I have been studying it for two days and we have literally nothing.” You gesture to the blue goo on your desk.

“Do you need help?” He asks.

“Are you offering to help me on your night off?” You ask, shocked.

“I’ve got nothing better to do.” Peter shrugs.

“Are you gonna take it seriously?” You hesitate.

“I’m always serious!” Peter bluffs. Peter was never serious. Egon was always serious. His bluntness and black and white thinking had always been a comfort to you. He wasn’t some puzzle you had to figure out. He just was. Being with him wasn’t a guessing game the same way it was with Peter.

“Somehow that’s hard to believe, but I could really use your expertise in parapsychology, so I’ll say yes.” You sigh. You know this probably isn’t the best idea, but Peter knows more about this topic than you do. You’d be stupid to reject his help.

“If you’ll be the subject, I’ll run the experiment.” He says, taking out the helmet with wires.

“Okay.” You agree. Once the helmet is on you should be connected to a series of machines able to read the energy of your emotions, as well as the slime itself, giving you a more direct connection without touching. Peter starts asking you a series of questions, trying to draw different emotional responses.

“Think of a time when you were happy, really happy.” He prompts. Your mind, wandered around the room, trying to think of something, when your eyes landed on Egon’s book sitting on his desk.

It made you think of the first time you realized you had deep feelings for him. While you’d always thought he was attractive, you realized your feelings were deeper than you thought, far beyond a harmless little crush, one day when he let you borrow his book. As you read his notes in the margins you were able to analyze things like him, see the world through his eyes. You saw how his brain connected and processed things. You always liked the person he’d shown you, but writing in the margins is different. When you take notes in a book, you’re not putting on a mask for people to see. Notes in the margins are just for you. There’re your unfiltered thoughts. Seeing who Egon was when nobody was watching was different. He was funny, smart, deep, curious, not as confident as he pretended to be; he didn’t censor himself in his books. He wasn’t quiet in his books. Reading his margins felt intimate.

“You’re thinking about Spengler, aren’t you?” Venkman teases.

“Why would you say that?” You look at him, embarrassed.

“Because you’re in loooooove!” Peter mocks.

“Can we change the subject?” You practically beg.

“Think of a moment where you were uncomfortable.” Peter prompts.

“This conversation.” You fiddle with your fingers.

“No, really. I wanna see how it reacts to discomfort.”

“Fine.” You sigh. You think back to one of your many lab accidents. Working in a lab with sensory issues is never easy and that was something you and Egon both struggled with.

You think back to the day when you superglued your fingers shut by accident. You got them apart, but you couldn’t get the the residue off. You started to hyperventilate, on the verge of tears. You wanted to hit your hands on things, but you knew that wouldn’t help. You couldn’t peel off the glue without peeling off your skin.

“What’s wrong?” Egon looked at you puzzled, and a bit worried.

“Superglue! I- I- I can’t get it off!” You shake your hands, violently, your whole body is tensed up.

Egon quickly takes a bottle out from his desk drawer and runs over to you. He grabs your hands.

“Look at me, (Y/N). It’s okay. I’ll take off all the residue.” He promises, giving you a soft smile. Despite not liking seeing you in such discomfort, he forces the smile to help calm you down. He begins to massage the liquid from the bottle onto your fingers with a rag.

“See, it’s okay. It’s coming off.” He continues to speak softly, calming you.

“What is that stuff?” You ask.

“I wish I could say it’s some sort of fancy, scientific, protective disinfectant, but as it so happens it’s only nail polish remover.” You both chuckle quietly. “Janine gave it to me the last time I got superglue on something and couldn’t get it off.” He smiles down at your hands, still focused on getting the last little bit off.

“This slime is so different from the mood slime. I thought I saw it let go of a bubble, but it’s mostly doing nothing. I think it might be dead. I think it might be time to bury it in the backyard.” Peter begins to fake sob.

“Knock it off.” You laugh. “What backyard? This is Manhattan!”

“You should try touching it.” Peter suggests.

“Egon, said I should under no circumstances touch it directly, especially while he’s not here.” You inform him.

“Well Egon, is being overprotective. Nothing bad happened when everyone else touched the pink slime and I accidentally ate green slime once.” Venkman says.

“What do you mean accidentally?” You ask.

“It was our first mission. Slimer ran through me. It was a whole thing. I think you should touch it… You might be able to figure out what it is before Spengler gets back…” He tries to change your mind.

“You’re sure there were no serious side effects from touching the other slimes?” You ask, hesitantly. Egon would be annoyed if he found out you went against his pleas to keep your hands away from the plasma, but you wanted to impress him.

“Nothing serious. I grew an extra pinky, but they cut it off.” He jokes.

“Haha, very funny, Venkman.” You roll your eyes.

“Fine.” You sigh, taking a deep breath before plunging your hand into the blue viscous goo. “Oh…This is literally fine.” You feel no effect, but when your heart rate picks up you realize you spoke too soon. You fall onto the floor, knocking over the slime. You feel like your heart is racing, like it could beat out of your chest and you can’t suck enough air into your lungs. You’re terrified.

“(Y/N)!” Peter yells, rushing to the floor to help you. He tries to touch the the hand not covered in blue slime, but you push him away, sobbing. You don’t want him anywhere near you. You’re slipping away from reality into a deep state of panic and paranoia.

“Please! No!” You sob. It’s the only thing you can manage to get out. You barley recognize Peter anymore. He doesn’t feel like a friend. He feels like a threat.

“Honestly, the movie was quite terrible. Ray stopped for a 99 cent pizza on the corner. What did you- (Y/N)?!” Egon speaks as he enters the room, cutting himself off when he notices you’re in distress.

“Pete, what happened?!” Egon questions once he sees Venkman.

“We were doing an experiment and they touched the goo and they just started freaking out. They won’t let me near them.” Peter tells him, obviously shaken. You hear the two men, but you don’t process them. It’s like you’re underwater.

“This is different from their usual sensory issues. I think they’re having a panic attack.” Egon kneels in front of you. “(Y/N), you’re okay. You’re safe. You’re in the firehouse. I’m here.” He tells you slowly.

“I- I can’t breathe!” You gasp for air.

“Your lungs are expanding and contracting at a rate too fast for your body to intake oxygen. I need you to try to breathe slow and deep with me. In…and out. Nice and slow.” He prompts. “Peter, I need latex gloves and towels.” Venkman could have made multiple jokes about Egon’s command, but looking at you this way made him uneasy. It wasn’t the right time. After being handed the gloves, Egon slipped them on and got to work cleaning off your slime covered arm. You begin to sob, overwhelmed by the feeling of the slime, the latex gloves, and the towel. It was difficult to handle on top of your panic attack. “Peter, we need to get them into the decontamination shower.”

“No!” You gasp between sobs.

“Come, on. I’ll go with you. We can get all the plasma off of you.” Egon speaks softly, but with a gentle urgency, as he tries to coax you to the shower. You shake your head no. “Are you against touch right now?” He asks.

“They did not like when I touched them.” Venkman warns.

“Only you-“ You break out in a sob. It doesn’t even cross your mind that you may be offending Peter by only wanting Egon. Luckily he’s not offended. Egon begins to take off his glove to provide skin to skin contact on the arm not drenched in slime in an effort to comfort you.

“Aren’t you worried about getting that stuff on you?” Venkman questions, worried Egon will shutdown like you.

“I’m getting in the decontamination shower anyway.” Egon shrugs, turning to you. He takes your hand in his, softly rubbing the top with his thumb.

“But- but your clothes will get all wet!” You sob. You knew Egon had his own sensory issues. You’d often have to help him when his long sleeves would get wet during experiments. It would drive him crazy. He avoided puddles like the plague and always had an umbrella nearby.

“Try not to worry about me right now. I just want you to focus on your breathing. I can always change my clothes.” He smiles. While it hurts him to see you so distressed, he was happy to know you cared about his comfort. “Let’s go shower. You can’t leave all that slime on you. I believe it’s worsening your mental state.” You nod, still crying.

“I’ll get them under the shower, I’ll need you to turn it on. Make sure not to touch the slime. I got a minuscule amount on my finger and it’s making me rather anxious. I can only imagine what this amount is doing to them.” Egon tells Peter. He helps you to stand, walking your trembling form over to the shower. “There we go. Just a few more steps. You’re doing wonderfully, (Y/N).” Egon softly attempts to comfort you.

Once you’re under the shower head, Venkman turns it on. Both you and Egon jolt at the sudden water pressure. He tightens both his jaw and his grip on you, holding his eyes shut tight. He can’t stand the feeling of his wet clothes against his body, but he’s brave for you. Once adjusted to the water, Egon begins to wash the slime off your body with care. Peter leaves to go upstairs and get you some towels. You feel the panic and paranoia start to leave your body. Despite still being incredibly anxious, you were starting to phase out of your slime induced panic attack. You lean against Egon, struggling to hold your own body weight. Maybe you’ll be more embarrassed tomorrow, but right now you just needed to be held. You were craving pressure on your body. You felt as if you would float off the ground if you weren’t held down. Egon wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer. He places a kiss on your forehead before placing his chin on top of your head. You snuggled into his chest, finding his pulse. You didn’t have the time or the bandwidth in your brain to think about what the kiss meant. You just wanted to be close to him.

“You’re okay, (Y/N). You’re safe.” Egon tells you. You’re not sure if it’s for your benefit or his. It’s for both, really.

You’re quiet for most of the night, unable to bring yourself to speak. Egon doesn’t mind. He thinks a verbal shutdown is more than understandable after the night you’ve had. After the shower, you follow Egon around the fire station. You don’t want to be alone right now. He doesn’t mind. He puts out some of his clothes for you to wear; pajama pants and one of his soft sweaters. He goes to leave the room for you to change, but you stop him.

“Can- can we just like? Turn around?” You ask. “I’m sorry. If you’re uncomfortable, that’s okay. I just really don’t wanna be alone right now.” You voice is hoarse from crying.

“Of course.” He smiles, turning around.

“I’m decent.” He informs you after a minute of rustling.

“Me too.” You tell him and you both turn around.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him, near tears again. You feel awful for how tonight went. This was supposed to be the boys’ day off. Egon gives you a sad look.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You were just trying to help. Venkman told me he put you up to it anyway.” Egon sighs.

“I probably shouldn’t have listened to him.” You let out a sad chuckle, one tear slipping past you, down your cheek. You wipe it quickly.

“Never listen to Venkman.” Egon gives a sad laugh.

“At least we figured out what the slime does… Egon, can I ask you a question?” You hesitate.

“Well, you just did, but yes.” He smiles, joking to lighten the mood. You smile at him.

“Why did you do all that? You took off your gloves, putting yourself at risk and then you put yourself through sensory hell just to get me cleaned up.” You question him.

“Isn’t it obvious? (Y/N), I care about you.” You look at him, thinking about the tone in his words. You can’t quite decipher it, but there’s something else there. Is it possible he could feel the same way about you that you feel about him? “You should get some sleep.” He interrupts your thoughts. “If you’d rather not be alone, you may sleep in my room tonight. I would find it beneficial to monitor you overnight to watch for long lasting effects, anyway.” He adds.

“Only if that’s okay with you.” You hesitate.

“Of course it’s okay with me. I just suggested it.” He smiles.

Once you’re settled into bed, Egon turns off the lights and climbs in next to you.

“Egon, I’m still anxious.” You blurt out into the dark.

“Do you need pressure?” He asks.

“Yes.” You say, hoping he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t seem to mind, as he scoops you into his arms. You cuddle into his chest, surrounded by him, surrounded by safety. You know this should be weird, but it doesn’t feel weird. As Egon kisses the top of your forehead again, bidding you goodnight, you wonder what this all means. You wonder what you are to each other. You feel you’ve crossed the line as friends, but you’re too tired and too awkward and too anxious to talk about labels. You and Egon never quite fit into boxes as people anyway. Your relationship didn’t need to either. Whatever this was between you was comforting. It was safe and it was going to help you sleep tonight.

[finniestoncrane]

Kink Dialogue Prompts - If you fancy, any of the following with Egon Spengler (Receiving?) :3c:

🌱 Virginity, 🥇 First Time, ✏️ Marking/Bititng, 🩺 Doctor RP (Giving), 🔴 Humiliation

Experimental Methods

Egon Spengler x Female!Reader, word count: 3.5k HELLO!? finally another excuse to write nasty again for egon, my fuckin beloved ;-; also i have been COOKING this one and it got away from me so it is LONG lmao mostly because i didn't realise you said any of and not all of the prompts oops and then i also added in prem.ejac. my actual beloved👻 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: medical kink, losing virginity, marking kink, humiliation kink, premature ejaculation

The walk from the elevator to your apartment door at the end of the hall felt like it took an eternity, definitely down to the dead silence between you and Egon which had been ongoing since the moment you left the restaurant down the block. He was often quite quiet once a date had ended, but this was different. There was a distinctly awkward air to the way he shuffled uncomfortably along beside you, and the soft sigh he had let out as he agreed to walk you to your door didn't exactly settle your nerves. That discomfort in the pit of your stomach was only exacerbated by the way he avoided all eye contact once you had placed the key in the lock, and stood, turned to him, as you held the door ajar. "Egon, I think you should come in so we can talk."

"Talk?"

"Mhm."

You nodded solemnly as you headed inside. He was a sweet man, very kind, very straight to the point. Besides the very limited bursts of anger you had seen him display at questioning skeptics and otherwise disinterested city officials, you couldn't imagine him wanting to harm anyone. So you had to be the one to broach the subject, since it seemed like he never would.

Once inside, you watched him make his way to the sofa, sitting on the very edge with his hands placed on his knees, palms rubbing nervously at the woolen fabric. When you were sitting beside him, you could hear his shallow breathing and the sound of him swallowing his nerves. As much as you were apprehensive about this converation, it spurred you on to know you were putting him out of his misery.

"Look, Egon. I know you're a sweet guy, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable just so you don't hurt my feelings. If you don't want to see me anymore in a... romantic way... then we don't have to."

"What?"

"We can meet for coffee or go out for food alone or with other people, but as friends, y'know?"

"Yes. That is generally something we can do. I appreciate your time, and for being so forward with your feelings. If there's anything I can do to change your mind then-"

You raised your hands up, shaking your head in confusion.

"Wait, wait, wait. Change my mind? I... I'm not breaking up with you, Egon. I'm making it easier for you to break up with me."

His face was blank, except for the slight hint of confusion, and you could almost hear the gears of his mind grinding away as he puzzled over where you got the notion that he might want to break up with you. It didn't take him long though. He wasn't oblivious. The evidence was definitely piling up, although the intentions behind it had been lost in translation.

"I don't want to break up with you. I enjoy spending time with you. We share a lot of the same attributes in common and you are extremely tolerable of any discussions about my various interests."

"How romantic."

You smiled, emphasising the playful tone of your slight dig.

"And of course, I find you attractive. Very appealing, physically as well as emotionally and intellectually. Which is precisely the problem."

Egon sat in silence for a few moments, as though he expected you to psychically glean what he meant by that statement, waiting on your response. But when it was apparent that you had none, he took a deep breath and continued.

"This is our fifth date. I expect that you'll want to have sexual relations, or at least some form of physical contact beyond what we've experienced thus far."

Your eyes widened, surprised by how blunt he was, if not more technical or formal than you expected, and you stumbled over your words.

"I, uh... w-well, that would be nice! But, if that's not your thing then of course we don't have to."

Shocking you both, he abruptly removed his hand from his own leg and placed it on your knee, both of you looking at it before he snatched it back.

"I want to, of course. But, speaking openly, I haven't ever experienced that. Yet. With anyone."

In absolute disbelief, you blinked as your body moved backwards a little, your nose twitching, raising your mouth in a curious and surprised sneer.

"You're a virgin? You. Are a virgin. You?"

"Does that factual statement require this much questioning?"

"A little bit, yeah! I mean... I would've been all over you four dates ago if you'd seemed a bit more at ease with it. I don't know how you've gone forty years without someone-"

He interrupted you with a slight frown, lips pursed as he waved you off before he spoke.

"I've spurned a few advances, but believe it or not, there's something about my personality that other find rather..."

"Abrupt. Formal. Disinterested?"

Egon nodded in agreement, very well aware that you used the words with no hint of criticism or negativity, but rather truthfully, and, oddly enough to him, with an almost loving tone.

"And yet you find those attributes appealing."

"Of course! They come in a very nice package."

You leaned into him, placing your hand on his thigh, squeezing it gently between your fingers as you edged closer to him on the sofa. He watched your fingers moving, eyes closing as he took in the sesation of the touch. Even that smallest gesture was enough to excite him. Your hand, moving further up his long, slender leg, fingers tensing into the muscle and releasing their grip as your palm snaked higher and higher, closer and closer.

"Oh, ok. You definitely are interested then..."

It was impossible not to notice the distinct bulging at the front of his slacks, and you felt immediately bad for pointing it out, but Egon smiled, nervously adjusting his glasses and clearing his throat.

"I wouldn't have lied to you. Besides, I knew the biological response would betray me eventually. I'm only lucky to have gone this long with the problem arising, for want of a better word."

Taking stock of the situation, you considered the next steps. You didn't want to rush him, by any means, but you didn't want to let the opportunity go to waste. An intimate conversation could lead to a more intimate encounter, and that was definitely what you had been hoping for tonight.

"Egon, we can do whatever you want tonight. You can go home, with no hard feelings, and we can continue dating and wait until you're ready. Or we can give it a go. If you want to stop, we can. But I think this could be a nice experience for us, as a... couple. Let me guide you through this. I'll be very gentle, unless of course you tell me otherwise."

His face lit up with a warm smile, clearly in appreciation of your gentle offer and your efforts to make light of what was most definitely an awkward conversation. Still, though, he seemed too nervous to speak much, so the ball was once again in your court.

"Ok, so... is it the skills involved that are causing you problems? Or...?"

"I suppose so, but like most other things, you gain experience with practice..."

Your stomach flipped in excitement, a heat prickling over your skin at the notion that you might be involved in this practice.

"... It's an area I haven't really been involved with before. It's not as though you're something to study, to examine and figure out."

"That's... exactly what it's like, actually."

"Hm."

"I mean, that's what it could be. If that makes things easier for you. Maybe a little bit of roleplay, putting you in a position of control that you're familiar with... maybe that would make it a bit easier for you?"

Egon paused for a moment, considering your suggestion with a hopeful look, nodding silently before he spoke.

"Your hypothesis is intriguing, and I do think it would be beneficial to at least test it in an experiment before we rule it out completely as a possible solution. If... if you're sure...?"

Placing your hand over his, you squeezed it, reassuringly, as you leaned in to him.

"It's a new experience, yes. But don't worry, I'll help you through it... Doctor."

His eyes lit up, a fire suddenly burning in the pit of his stomach. Standing from the sofa, he took your hand and brought you up to him. Egon's eyes flitted towards the door to your bedroom.

"In that case then, please come with me and we can begin this examination."

You reached for his hand, hoping he'd guide you romantically to the privacy of your bedroom, but he was already fast ahead of you, his long limbs gaining the distance with his wide strides as you hurried excitedly into the room behind him.

"Now, if you'll lie back on the bed, please, and take a deep breath. Let me take care of you. I'm sure that whatever is wrong, I can provide some assistance."

Obedient, and with a level of excitement you weren't afraid to show, you bounced onto the mattress and laid back, inhaling and exhaling slowly and carefully as you listened to Egon pacing around the bed, finding the best place to conduct his examination. Standing on your right, looking down at you, you watched as he procured a small notepad and almost pointlessly short pencil from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

"I think we should begin by noting the first examples you found of paranormal occurrences. Were the internal or external?"

Narrowing your eyes in confusion, you tried to think of an answer to the question, but before you could find a suitable one he had moved on to the next.

"If neither of those are pertinent to your experience, can you tell me if you had any sensations or evidence of being posessed?"

"What? Egon, what are you talking about?"

Blinking twice, he lowered himself to you, bending at the hip, and whispering in a lower voice as though he were trying not to break the roleplay experience.

"This is my area of expertise. The paranormal. I am examining you as a doctor of such, so... are you experiencing anything paranormal?"

Quickly catching on, you mustered up a few symptoms for him to use in his diagnosis.

"Oh... uh... yes! Well, Doctor Spengler, the reason I came to see you is that I've had a strange onset of problems, ones no ordinary doctor could diagnose. I think you might be my only hope now."

Reaching out, you took his hand in yours and squeezed, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes.

"And what might these symptoms be?"

"Well, I'm not sure if they're all related, but I do know that I've been feeling very irritable lately. Completely exhausted and filled with stress and tension. It's like there's something inside of me that I just need to get out, something that's controlling my behaviour."

"It sounds like you might need a formal adjuration addressed to the demonic presence that has decided to utilise you as its host."

"I need a what?"

"In layman's terms, an exorcism."

"Ah! Wow, that sounds very serious, Doctor Spengler."

The way you spoke his name, each consonant, each syllable, lingering on your lips and tongues, lustful and seductive, had him clearing his throat and swallowing the building, shaking nerves that it conjured.

"It can be. Could you detail when you feel these symptoms for me?"

"Hm... they mostly surface when I'm around my boyfriend. He's real neat, I think you'd like him. He's so intelligent, so sweet, and he's super hot."

"Ahem... he sounds, delightful."

"You don't think the demon, or whatever is inside of me, is targeting him, do you, Doctor Spengler?"

You forced a concerned pout onto your lips, looking up at Egon through your batting eyelashses as you watched him try to recover from not only the insinuation that he was hot, but that you considered him to be your boyfriend.

"I see... then I believe that perhaps this is not anything paranormal but very natural. I think a release of tension, of a more physical or... coital nature, is the required prescription here."

With his cheeks flushing at the mere mention of sexual activity, Egon adjusted his glasses once more as he avoided eye contact with you.

"Oh, thank you, Doctor Spengler! So... what should I do about this predicament? Do you think you could maybe administer the correct dosage for me? Perhaps we can do the procedure here?"

The deep red blush seeped further across Egon's skin, his pupils wider than you'd seen them before. Quickly, and with no attempt to do so discreetly, he moved his hands down in front of him, holding the notepad strategically in front of his pants.

"Are you hiding something down there, Doctor Spengler?"

Egon stuttered, dropping the note pad before bending to catch it swiftly, the tent at the front of his slacks visible for only a brief moment, but long enough that you could ascertain what he was working with below the tweed and formality.

"I-I-I'm... I-it's... I apologise, I didn't mean to rush things by getting ahead of myself. This is embarrassing."

"Oh, come on, Egon! You know as well as I do that it's a natural reaction. If you're going to be ashamed of anything, I would say it should be how easy it was to get you as flustered as you are... I mean look at your cheeks! Tell me... is any other part of you blushing pink?"

The silence was almost deafening, and he was once again unable to look into your eyes. Fearing you had taken it a little too far in your taunting, given it was his first time, you were quick to apologise, sitting up on the bed and holding his arm. But he brushed you off, working on his nervous habit of fiddling with the legs of his glasses as he replied.

"No need to apologise, I'm just quietly reconciling the facts. Yes, it was embarrassing, but your taunting made it worth it. It definitely played a fact in the increase in arousal, it would be a fascinating thing to study if I had any spare time. I'd even suggest that we experiment with that more this evening, but I'm worried it might lead to a quick conclusion to our combined efforts if the external stimuli is too... well, stimulating."

"How about we just remember that you're into it and add it to our list, hm?"

"We have a list?"

You eased yourself up onto your knees on the bed, holding on to the lapels of Egon's suit jacket as you watched his Adam's apple bob, his chest rising and falling as your hands soothed over his body.

"Now we do."

Your lips met his in a soft, interlocking embrace, with Egon catching on quickly after a sharp inhale. You could feel his smile against yours as the passion deepened, his hands falling to your sides as he held you steady as you balanced yourself against his surprisingly sturdy frame. Letting out a deep sigh as his hands curled around you, his palms flat against your spine as he stroked up and down, you found yourself leaning into him more, fingers pressing into the back of his neck as you kept him kissing you.

One of your hands pushed into his thick, tight curls as the other drifted back around and down his front, your fingers skirting over the buckle of his belt and hooking just below it, tugging his hips towards you. He came easily, putting up no resistance to your desire to have him closer to you.

Egon's breath haltered as he watched you in stunned silence, your fingers expertly, and quickly, unbuckling his belt and slowly, deftly, unzipping his pants. Looking up to him to make sure he was still on board, you caught his eyes, pupils wide, behind the slightly fogged lenses of his glasses. In response to the question you hadn't asked yet, you caught out of your peripheral the slight twitch of his cock, waiting impatiently for your touch.

As seductively as you could, you pulled his slacks down slightly, enough that you could hook your thumbs into the waistband of his white, y-fronts, watching as more of his cock was revealed until it sprang over the top.

He was an impressive length, and a thickness you could get used to with some practice. Looking at it, you considered that was probably why he so often wore looser slacks, given there was a lot for him to attempt to conceal. Without even realising it, you had begun to lick your lips, trying not to drool over yourself. So, to satiate your growing hunger, you wrapped your palm around the base of his length and began to stroke it.

Your movements were gentle, not too slow but not too fast. You were sure he had experienced some level of physical intimacy before, and he couldn't have gone forty years without some level of masturbation. Surely... but there was always a chance...

Either way, your ministrations against his thickening length had it pulsing and throbbing against the flat of your hand as you dragged it up and down, stroking his cock in rhythym with his breathing and matching the pace of his subconscious and almost imperceptible thrusting.

Despite having a grown man under your power, you were still preoccupied with his comfort, worried that you were moving things too quickly. So to counter your concerns, and keep things as pleasant as possible for you both, you took to looking deep into his eyes, past the lenses of his round frames. It was a piercing stare, one that was uncomfortable for only a moment before it deepened the intimacy, letting you see him in a completely new light as his jaw hung open and his tongue lapped at the air. You couldn't help but smile back at the lopsided grin he wore, your heartbeat unsteadied by the mere suggestion that you were making him happy.

A small, sultry giggle escaped your throat, and Egon groaned in reply, bucking his hips forward,standing on tiptoe and shuddering as he balanced himself back onto his heels again. Only when you felt the cooling of the warm liquid spread over your fingers did you realise what had happened.

With a quick glance down, you could see the last threads of cum spilling ont your hand from the flushed, pink head of Egon's cock. Drops and strands dripped down your knuckles, and as you loosened your grip, the action accompanied by a soft whimper from Egon, you fought the urge to lick your hand clean. There would be opportunities in the future to taste him, right now the priority was to assuage the concern you could see growing on his furrowed brow. You could feel your own underwear soaking in arousal at the idea of pushing Egon to climax so quickly, but he didn't seem to feel the same.

Looking to him, your mischievous grin was quickly contorted into an easy, comforting smile as you stood up and quickly kissed him. If your lips were firm against his, then there was no qay he could finish the entirely unnecessary apology that he was trying to make for what he felt was a speedy response to your touch. Resting your forehead against his, and letting his large nose press into yours, you pulled away from the deep kiss, a slowing tirade of softer ones following it until you were sure he would be quiet.

"It's ok, honestly. There's no need to apologise."

"Are you sure? I'd hate to be a disappointment."

"Hardly! In fact..."

You punctuated each word with a kiss, covering his cheeks, his chin, his neck and his collarbone in them.

"... I think it was pretty hot having that kind of power over you."

When you moved your lip back over his neck, you allowed your teeth to graze across his skin before sinking them in, closing your lips over and sucking at him, feeling his flesh warm in your mouth and delighting in the wet, smacking sound as you let go. With your drool settling in a strand against him, you bit your lip, suddenly a little embarrassed by the very forward nature of the bite. You waited for Egon's approval, or disapproval, of the flurry of affection, giggling when he finally spoke.

"To clarify, that bite was a positive response, yes?"

"Of course! I just wanted to... mark my territory. This way, whenever someone looks at you, they'll know you belong to someone. Just in case anyone else gets any ideas about being your first before I can get to you again."

Egon's fingers twitched, reachign instinctively in that recognisable flustered action to adjust his glasses, one side of his mouth lifted into a coy, but satisfied grin.

[ask-sister-solaris]

AHHHH A NEW GHOSTBUSTERS WRITER AJDGEJIDBEI!!!

May I please have Egon (my beloved) with a sleepy reader who comes home from work and just lays on the ground. Like they are just so tired and sad.

THABK YOUUU

OFC U MAY

Egon x reader

Warnings: none just fluff

“It’s called a floor nap”

You groaned as you stepped into the Ghostbusters Headquarters, eyes drooping and fully of tiredness. You made your way up to Egons lab, tiredly greeting Janine as she was leaving. As per usual Egon was still working on something or other and you laid on the cold floor of the Lab.

Egon looked at you full of concern and tilted his head. According to his scanner you were sleep deprived and upset. He crouched beside you and shook you gently “Love? Are you okay?” He mentally slapped himself for asking of course you weren’t okay!

You let out a groan and closed your eyes tiredly. Egon sat beside you scanning your body. Her never seen you this tired or upset before, what was he suppose to do? He couldn’t move you, he was brains not brawn! He tried asking you more question only to be met with groans or shakes of your head.

Eventually he caved and asked why exactly you were sleeping on the floor of his lab and finally got a verbal answer that wasn’t a grunt or groan “s’nice n cold” he rose a brow at you and made a mental note that and hummed “yes I know that but why would you nap on the floor, we have air conditioning”

You looked him dead in the eyes and yawned “s’called a floor nap, I’m to tired to move so if you want me moved you better call Venkman or someone else because I am not moving” he mentally cursed as he got up and called Ray from the bedroom. He protested until Egon halted him down and he caved.

[belles-non-wallpapering-content]

Late night E.S x fem! Reader

Overture- Your boyfriend of a few weeks comes to visit you in the middle of the night, to use your shower after being unfortunately slimed halfway across town from the fire station

Cws- cheek kissing, pre established relationship, brief sort of mention of sex? No detail, and it’s like one sentence, mentions of ghosts and slime.

A/N- Day 4, I’m about a half hour late but in my defense I spent the day slinging over-priced margaritas and left smelling like Modelo extra. Also pretend Egon is the one covered in slime in the picture, looking up Egon Spengler slime, really only gets you pictures from THAT scene

***

It was almost midnight when someone knocked on your door. You weren’t in the habit of opening the door that late, your apartment wasn’t in the best neighborhood, even by New York standards, but you figured you’d at least check the peephole. Right as you got to the door though, you heard a familiar voice calling your name, and you rushed over. It was your boyfriend, and he never stopped by this late without calling.

“Hey, are you ok? What happened?” When you finally got all the locks undone, you hit a good look at him. His glasses were a little crooked, and he looked like someone threw him in the Hudson, but other than that he looked alright.

“I’m alright but there was a ectoplasmic incident. I was doing a late night call close to here, and I was wondering if I could use your shower before this sets.”

“Oh my god of course, it’s just down the hall, I’ll get you something to drink for when you're done.”

“Thank you, Y/N, I really appreciate it.” You stopped him for just a second as you used your thumb to wipe off his cheek so you could give him a quick kiss.

“It’s no problem, go ahead.” Instead of moving, he stopped to put shoe covers over his boots. He didn’t want your carpet to get slimed. He really was the sweetest under that needlessly formal exterior.

He took his shower, and you got a soda for him out of the fridge before going to find something for him to wear. You liked men’s t-shirts anyway, so you got one out for him (even though you really couldn’t imagine him in one), and a pair of pajama pants he could wear.

He came out in a towel, and you could’ve sworn you’d died. Every expression that could’ve been on your face was gone in favor of something between jaw-dropped staring, and mortal terror.

“Sorry, is it alright if I stay here until my under-clothes dry a little bit?” His sheepish reaction to your blatant staring finally got your stupid, broken, brain to process what he said.

“Yes Egon, of course. I’ll get you some stuff to wear.” You came back into the hall with the clothes, folded and ready.

He disappeared back into the bathroom to change and when he came back you were still staring.

“Is something wrong?” He looked down to make sure he’d gotten his clothing back in order.

“No!—No, it’s just I’ve never seen you so casual before. I like it, is all.”

“Oh. Well then—“ he stopped to readjust his glasses, although they were still a little crooked from earlier. You took the opportunity to grab his hand when it came down, leading him to the couch to sit next to him.

About an hour into a movie you were pretending to watch, you noticed something. Now that his hair was fully dry, it was like he was never covered in slime at all, let alone less than a few hours ago.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Your hair still looks perfect, post-slime.”

“Oh, Ray and I made this substance to keep our hair healthy during work and in the lab, it seals out moisture above a certain viscosity. It looks kind of like hairspray, I keep some in the firehouse.”

“You’re so cool.”

“I don’t think that’s the adjective many people would go for—“

“It’s accurate.”you held onto him like a teddy bear, even if only for a second. You didn’t want to overwhelm him. But there was one more thing you wanted to say to him. His clothes were just about dry, and otherwise he was going to leave soon.

“You know, you can—stay. If you want, you know if you don’t have to go back to work tonight.” By the end of your meandering sentence you were more focused on messing with the hem of your shirt than making any sort of eye contact with Egon.

“You would be alright with that?” He said it in a way that was neutral, if not a little stern. Like he was trying to press to see if you’d offered to be nice, or because you thought that’s what he came here for.

“I would, I’d actually like that a lot.” He looked a little bit shocked, and you were immediately worried you came on too strong.

“Only if you want to, of course. I didn’t mean to like, trap you here. And we wouldn’t have to, you know— do anything. I know we haven’t really gotten there.” Suddenly the hem of your shirt was the most interesting thing in the world again.

“That would be nice.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek, and pulled him up from the couch.

“In that case, let’s go to bed.” You had barely led him a few steps, grateful that he hadn’t let go of your hand.

“I thought you’d never ask.” He lightly pulled back on your arm, bringing you back towards him until your back was flush against his chest. Then and only then did he let you continue walking.

[eebydeebyderby]

Can We Talk?

A one-shot in which reader tries to comfort Egon after a lab accident leaves him shaken and a bit injured.

Inspired by this post for Whumptober for Day 1: Apology, but it leans much more towards hurt/comfort than true whump. Thank you for your patience as I start getting back into writing <3

General info:

Egon x Reader, established romantic relationship, hurt/comfort (Egon gets got), minor injuries, gender neutral reader

~1.8k words

The trap clatters to the ground when you regain consciousness, smoking and hissing at Egon's feet. You shake your head a bit, trying to clear your head, regain your bearings as you slowly look around. The lab is in complete shambles around you: papers scattered and fluttering about, tables turned over, equipment thrown on the ground, an overhead light is shattered and sparking.

You turn around to find Egon looking intently at you from just a few feet away, proton gun still buzzing in his hand, the trap still smoking at his feet. He's completely disheveled, his glasses askew and his hair a complete mess. His face is expressionless, completely blank except for the tears burning in his eyes as his fingers slowly ghost over the side of his face, the stinging handprint on his cheek painfully red and already beginning to swell into an aching bruise.

Your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach and you gasp. “Egon, what happened?”

He stays quiet.  

You start moving towards him but freeze when he sharply recoils away from you, backing into a bookcase and knocking several books to the floor around his feet, startling you both. 

Your heart starts pounding in your ears and your chest tightens, threatening to stifle your breath. “Egon, I'm scared. What happened?”

He just stares at you, blinking rapidly. 

“Can you tell me what happened?”

             Nothing. 

Then, finally, he shakes his head. His breath catches behind the lump in his throat and he struggles in vain to try and swallow it down, his entire body trembling from the tension building in his chest, threatening to burst.

You slowly, very slowly, walk towards him, broken glass and equipment crunching beneath your shoes. He all but flattens himself against the bookcase, but still lowers his proton gun as you approach, halting just a few feet from him.

With delicate, deliberate movement, you reach towards him, making sure he sees and knows your intent.  

When your hand is about an inch from him he squeezes his eyes shut. Your hand grazes the uninjured side of his face and he sucks in a breath. His eyebrows knit together and he tries to keep his breathing steady, but he's unable to bear it and flinches from your touch. You yank your hand back, accidentally knocking a large thermos off a table. It hits the ground with a harsh, resounding clang, startling you both once again. His gaze fixates on the thermos as it rolls along the floor behind you. You keep your eyes on him.

“I'm sorry; I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry,” you sputter. 

Complete silence falls between you two. The only noises you hear are the sparking of the broken light fixture and your own heart pounding in your ears. 

"Egon, whatever happened—I'm so sorry; I would never want to do anything that hurt you. I'm sorry. Whatever I did back there, I’m so sorry." The words spill from your mouth before you can process them. You open your mouth for a split second as your mind scrambles to find something else to say, anything, but it draws a blank and you remain quiet. Then, you mutter, “I love you. I never want to hurt you.” 

His gaze snaps up to lock onto you, and it breaks your heart to see the tears welled in his eyes, so close to spilling over as he uses all of his willpower to hold them back. Egon is never one to express emotions openly, always keeping them guarded behind a shield of polite detachment. But, here you can fully see the sorrow etched on his tired face, the hurt and vulnerability and conflict and, something else, something you can't quite place—

He breaks eye contact and swallows. "I th—” His voice cracks and he clenches his jaw for a moment. “...I think it would be best if we separate for now." His voice is strained and unsteady. He swallows again, avoiding your eye. Then, he manages to eke out, “I…I need space. Please.”

His request hits you hard and you feel your own emotions swelling in your chest. You force yourself to take a deep, slow breath and you're grateful that your wildly beating heart calms down a bit.

“Okay,” you say quietly. “I'll be upstairs in the bedroom.”

The room is dark and quiet when you walk inside. The sky outside is beginning to lighten with the dawn approaching over the city skyline, bathing the room in a faint blue glow through the window. You sit down on the foot of his bed and think, think, trying to recall what happened before you regained consciousness in the wrecked lab. 

The two of you were alone in the firehouse. You remember helping Egon tinker with a live trap—the mechanism for releasing the entity into the containment unit was malfunctioning, and the two of you were trying to fix it. There was a loud bang, a flash of light. You remember yelping, then dropping your screwdriver, then crumpling to the ground, then—

Nothing. 

There's a tentative knock at the door, tearing you from your thoughts. “Come in,” you say.

Egon slowly opens the door and walks inside, his entire body still trembling. The bruise across his cheek is swollen and darkened into a splotchy red. “Can we talk?” he asks quietly, his voice thick with congestion. 

"Of course."

He sits down on the bed next to you and you have to suppress the urge to wrap your arms around him. You're facing him, but he faces the floor, arms slung over his knees and his hands clasped tightly together, trying not to meet your gaze. He sighs, unable to keep himself from shaking with nervousness. "I…don't know where to start."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

“It…The entity, it…” The lump in his throat seizes up and he quickly becomes overwhelmed. He sighs, starting to get frustrated with himself, and shakes his head. 

“That's alright,” you mutter. “It's alright.”

Silence falls between the two of you. You stay quiet, wanting to give him as much time as he needs. Your gaze wanders over to the window; the horizon over the city skyline now glows with the faintest hint of pinkness beneath the cool blue dawn. The street outside the firehouse is quiet, but you still hear the faint noises of traffic from the city. It's still too early for the birds to be awake, and you wonder if—

"I know it wasn't you.” His voice nearly startles you, and your attention immediately snaps to him. “It wasn't. I know it wasn’t, but I just…” He lifts his head to look at the ceiling, hands clasped firmly together in his lap, and you see the tears burning in his eyes. He clenches his jaw, trying to stay grounded. 

“Egon, can I touch you?”

He nods hesitantly, still shaking like a frightened dog. 

You stand up and slowly bring your hand up to the uninjured side of his face. He braces himself, squeezes his eyes shut, fearing a strike he knows isn't coming. “Hey, it's okay,” you coo. “It's just me.” Your fingers graze his face and he tenses, clenching his jaw as you gently stroke his cheek with your thumb, feeling the light scratch of his stubble. Your hand gently cups the side of his face and you delicately tilt his head up to plant a kiss on his forehead. 

The tension gripping his entire body finally bursts. He exhales sharply and gasps as tears flood down his face and you immediately pull him into a tight hug, cradling his head against your chest. Sobs spasm in his throat and he wraps his arms tightly around you, trying to pull you as close to himself as he can, despite his glasses going askew and digging sharply into his skin. His breath comes in short, abrupt gasps that rack through his entire body. 

“Oh, Egon…” you mutter, running your fingers through his hair. “Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“I-I know it…it w-wasn't you,” he sputters between gasps. "It—...You would n-never say th-the things it said,” he swallows, struggling to force down the lump in his throat that’s stifling his words, and his voice steadies a bit, “or raise a hand to me, but it...it weaponized things that…that only you would know, things that I-I confided only to you and it—...I know it wasn't you attacking me, I know it wasn't.” 

His voice thickens as emotion swells in his chest and fresh tears drip off his jaw. He pulls away and looks up at you with red, swollen eyes, absolutely exhausted, markings dotting the areas around his eyes and on the bridge of his nose where his glasses were digging into his skin. You slowly bring your hand up the side of his face again and this time he leans into your touch as you stroke his cheek. He sighs and closes his eyes, relishing your touch, allowing himself to start gradually relaxing, fatigue weighing heavily on him. 

You look intently at him, reading the emotions etched plainly on his face, and you recognize the one from earlier that you couldn't quite place. You scowl a bit. “What's the guilt?”

He opens his eyes and looks at you, a bit befuddled. 

“Egon, come on. I've done things to you that would patronize Babylon the Great. I can tell when you're keeping something.”

He smirks briefly through his tears, the half-smile that is so delightfully Egon. It quickly fades and he sighs, trying to keep his breathing steady. “I should've been more cautious. It's my fault the entity broke containment.” 

Your brain scrambles between saying, ‘why do you say that?’ and ‘no, it isn't’ and you blurt out, “Why do you isn't?”

“I knew you'd disagree.” He pauses,  and you see a slight glimmer of humor return to him. “At least, I think that's what you're attempting to do.” He lies down on the bed and gestures for you to follow. You're more than happy to oblige and lie down with your head on his chest and your hand on his collarbone. He slings an arm around you and sighs deeply, sinking into the bed and allowing drowsiness to start taking control. 

“I think we should put some ice or something on your face,” you say, curled up against him.

He shakes his head. “Ice only works to temporarily replace one form of discomfort for another. It does nothing to actually aid healing.” He’s quiet for a moment and yawns deeply. “The lab is in complete disarray,” he mutters. 

“It's always in complete disarray.” 

He snickers. “You know what I mean.” 

“How about we worry about it later?” 

“Alright. We'll worry about it later.” 

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery

warnings: menstruation, swearing

Egon gently rubbed my arm as I sat on the couch next to him. A book was propped open in his lap, egon flipping through it with his free hand while the other kept me pressed against him.

“so do you have any other symptoms?” He asked. I shook my head. “And you still…”

“Don’t you dare egon.” I sighed. “I am not letting you experiment on me.” Egon leaned his head against mine.

“it’s not experimenting.” He shot back. “I’m simply trying to better understand what you’re going through.”

“Egon. Baby. Sweetheart.” I shifted to kneel next to him. “You’re trying to turn this into an experiment.” Egon rolled his eyes and closed the book. He leaned back and ran his hands under his glasses.

“(Y/N)…” he groaned. “I’m not!” I laughed as I sat back down and laid down on his chest. Egon wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly against him. “I just want to help you anyway I can.” He pressed his fingers gently into my abdomen. I groaned and leaned into him further.

“but you don’t have to figure out anything about this!” Egon pressed a kiss to my head.

“fine. Fine.” He finally admitted. I closed my eyes as he kneaded the area where there was the most pain. I raised an eyebrow as his fingers dipped below my waistband.

“Egon.” I warned.

“Oh come on. Just one sample. Please.” Egon practically whined. I grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away.

“Egon!” I yelled.

[tinyvesselhearts]

THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I REPEAT: THIS IS NOT A DRILL

[throwamurph]

Edit: found it!! Tagged in the comments :) TYYY

Way back when, on Harold Ramis Tumblr, I remember an awesome creator writing a story where the reader loves the ghostbusters and somehow they end up in the Ghostbuster world. The ghostbusters were trying to figure out a way to bring them back to their own world. I remember there was no set love interest but it was kinda just exploratory. Please please please tell me the fic/who wrote it!! I never got to finish it!!

[hippiegoth97]

banner by @strangergraphics

banner by @cafekitsune

About Me: call me Hippie (or Goth) / 27 / she/her / fic writer / bi / married / minors and ageless blogs DNI

Side Blog: hippiegothrecs (fic recs, reblogs, writing/fandom etiquette tips)

Requests: Open

divider also by @/strangergraphics

Characters/Fandoms I Currently/Will Write For

Stranger Things: Mainly Eddie Munson, but I’ll write any adult and older teen characters (portrayed at least 18+), I WILL NOT age up child characters

The X-Files: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully

Fargo: Gator Tillman

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Giles, Spike, Angel, Drusilla, Faith, Buffy, Willow (Basically anyone except Dawn and Xander, all portrayed as 18+) 

Ghostbusters: Egon Spengler

Once Upon a Time: Killian Jones, Regina Mills

Slumber Party Massacre 2: Driller Killer

Criminal Minds: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia

Current Works

Into the Fire (Eddie Munson x Reader) Master List

Eddie Munson x Reader One-Shots Master List

Hangman's Joke (Eddie Munson x Female Reader The Crow AU) Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

You're a Winner (Gator Tillman x Female Reader)

I Want to Believe (Fox Mulder x Female Reader)

Diary of a Hawkins Hussy (Stranger Things x Female Reader) Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7

Requests: Angel x Fem!Pet!Reader Chrissy x Fem!Bisexual!Reader

Blurbs: Eddie #1 Eddie #2 Eddie #3 Steve #1 Steve #2 Spencer Reid #1 Spencer Reid #2

Upcoming Projects

Dream a Little Dream of Me (Driller Killer x Female Reader)

Who Ya Gonna Call? (Egon Spengler x Female Reader)

Watch Me (Giles x Female Reader)

You’ve Got Me Hooked (Killian Jones x Female Reader)

I Want to Believe Pt. 2/Pt.3 (Fox Mulder x Female Reader)

Blurb/One-Shot Request Rules

Send me an ask in my inbox with the character, pairing/grouping, and specifics you would like. It may take a while to be finished, and I reserve the right to reject a request for any reason. I WILL NOT accept requests from minors or ageless blogs. Anon requests are accepted. I also ask that any requests DO NOT include the following subjects. I am not comfortable with these subjects and will not write them. (I don't judge anyone who enjoys these subjects, I am just not personally comfortable with them.)

Rape/Non-con (I’ll write references/flashbacks to past sexual assault if it’s beneficial to the story. But no rape fantasy)

Incest/Stepcest

Cheating (In a positive light)

Anything relating to Minors

Watersports/Scat/Vomit Kink

Omegaverse (I honestly just don’t know enough about it)

Pregnancy/Breeding Kink

Pretty much anything else is free game, so request away :)

Tag List Request Form

[sporesmoldsfungus]

Safety Net | Egon Spengler x Reader

Hi Everyone! This is my first time writing for Egon and I would be lying If I said I did not thoroughly enjoy myself. Im still figuring out how to use Tumblr, so any tips would be well appreciated. Hope you enjoy :)

Word count: 3.1K

Side note: look how cute our man is in this gif, I cannot deal!!!

******

You grimace as you put your sleeve over your mouth, the smoke from the trap causing you to cough in reaction. 

“I Don’t think I will ever get used to that smell” You murmur to Ray as you pass him the trap. You were both currently out of town on a job for an old opera house. The job required you to stay at a hotel last night so you could catch the ghost in question early that morning. The ghost busters usually didn’t accept jobs from out of town, but when the owner of the opera house mentioned a large check, Peter could not say no. Of course, he had no intention of doing the job himself, which was why you and Ray were in the current situation. 

“Egon said it has something to do with the negative energy the ghost emit when captured” Ray explained, he also grimaced as he took the trap from you. He brought the trap over to Ecto-1 and threw it in the back before closing the door. “I cannot wait to get back and sleep in my own bed” He sighed. 

“Yeah, me too. Those hotel beds were horrible” you agreed as you made your way towards the driver’s side of the car. Ray had drove you both to the location, you thought you would return the favour by driving home. “I’ll make sure the invoice for those rooms go to Venkman, he’s the reason we had to do this job in the first place” You joke.

“Always the same, even in college he always got the best side of the deal” Ray agreed as he got into his side of the car, immediately putting the heaters on after he sat down.”

“Oh please don’t remind me of Peter’s Sorority years, I’ve had enough pain today to last me at least a week” You grumble as you gently rubbed your neck. The ghost you had been hired to capture had a little bit of a nasty streak. Just as you were about to capture it, it had thrown you back into a wall, your neck and shoulder hadn’t felt right since. 

Ray chuckled before asking in a concerned tone. “Are you alright to drive? I don’t mind switching”.

“I’ll be okay, an ice pack at home should do the trick” You smiled before turning the car on and starting your journey home. Ray’s selflessness was one of your favourite things about the scientist. No matter what the situation, Ray always offered to help. 

******

You firstly met Ray, Egon and Peter around eight years ago at Columbia University. As you walked through the door to your first lecture on parapsychology, you had noticed there was only one seat left available to sit in. Next to the free seat, sat the dorkiest man you had ever set eyes on. He had large round glasses that were definitely a decade out of fashion, but you couldn’t picture him wearing any other style. His slightly curly hair was neatly kept, and you couldn’t help but wonder what routine he used to tame it. The more you stared, the more you admired how beautiful this man was. From the way he had dressed himself in a suit just for a lecture, to the way his forehead was slightly creased due to the front on his face as he read over a book. 

You slowly made your way over to the empty seat, hesitating before sitting down. “Is this seat taken?” you asked softly, a small blush covered your cheeks and nose.

The man’s head rose to look up at you, his frown softening as he looked at you. It felt like he had been staring at you for an hour before he eventually cleared his throat. “uh, no this seat is free” he nodded before awkwardly going back to his book. 

You gave a small smile and sat down on the stool. As you brought your textbooks from your bag, you caught a glimpse of what the man next to you was reading. “you’re a fan of Joseph Rhine?”.

“Uhh, just a little bit of light reading” he replied hesitantly, as if he didn’t realise you were talking to him at first. 

You gave a small nod. “I’m more a fan of Arthur Doyle, myself”

“The sherlock Holmes author?” he asked sceptically.

You gave an enthusiastic nod “Yes, many people don’t know that he actually does research in telepathy and seances too”.  Just like every time you talked about anything on the lines of parapsychology, you could feel yourself becoming excited. Your family did everything in attempt to get you to choose a more ‘normal’ degree like English or Biology, but nothing could have possibly changed your mind. 

“interesting” he mumbled; his face looked as if it was deep in thought for a moment before he opened up a notebook, and scribbled down the author’s name. 

“My name is Y/N, by the way” you stuck your hand towards the man, a gentle smile on your lips. You were trying your best to follow your mother’s advice she had given you on the phone this morning. ‘Any day, is a successful day, if you meet a new friend’. 

The man returned a very small smile before gently taking your hand. “Egon Spengler”

“Lovely to meet you Egon”.

What you were unaware of that day, was why Egon had been sitting alone, when in fact his two best friends were sat directly behind him. Peter and Ray were well aware of Egon’s most important rule. ‘I forbid anybody to sit next to me in lectures, talking is a distraction of learning’.  Almost every day he had turned people down who were looking for a spare seat, earning his friends to cringe away in embarrassment each time. However, when he had looked at you, something changed. He realised that he, for some reason, would not mind being distracted by you. Of course, he later went home and tried to conduct a full study on why he felt this way, but it took him four years before he later came up with a reasonable conclusion. 

Later that day, you were introduced to Ray and Peter, through the expense of Egon being the centre of one of Peter’s jokes. After that day on, the four of you had been close friends ever since. 

******

After complaining about New York traffic for at least thirty minutes, you finally drove into the firehouse, sighing with content as you parked the car. “Home, sweet, home”. 

As you got out of the car, a floating green blob flew towards you, it’s stick like arms wrapping around your neck. 

“Awhh, I missed you too slimer” You chuckled as you hugged the ghost back. 

“How come he never slimes you; I swear he has full control of that stuff” Peter grumbled as he walked out his office and headed towards you. 

“Oh Peter, are you jealous that slimer loves me more? I’m sure he’d love to come and give you a cuddle too” You joked as you let go of the ghost, a mischievous smirk on your face. 

“Don’t you dare” He warned, his eyes narrowing as he spoke slowly. 

“Fine, you win this time. However, me and Ray have decided you are getting invoiced for those hotel rooms, after all, it was your call to take”. 

Peter struggled to find a reply for a moment before sighing in defeat. “Whatever, just give the papers to Janine, I’m too tired to debate this one out”. 

“What’s the matter? You’re not sick are you” You asked genuinely. If needed, Peter normally had the social skills to sell ice to someone who lived in the North pole. 

“No, I’m not sick. But considering I’m paying for the hotel rooms, I need to call in a favour from you too” He replied, leaning against the side of Ecto-1 as he spoke. 

You stopped unloading the equipment from the back to give him your full attention. “I’m not taking the blame again for you not closing the containment unit correctly”

“You forgot to close the containment unit again!” Ray rushed from behind the car, his face frantic as he looked between you and Peter. 

“No! The containment unit is fine! Gosh, what do you people take me for?” Peter replied quickly, finishing the sentence with a scoff.  “I’m calling in a favour because Spengz hasn’t left the lab since you went on that call”. He finally explained. 

Your heart sunk a little as Peter spoke. It was not unusually for Egon to spend hours at a time in the lab, but you and Ray had been gone for over twenty-four hours. Egon tended to go through stages where he become so fixated on science, his personal health was forgotten to him. He had the potential to go days without eating or sleeping, which often made him ill and even more stressed out for a few days. The boys did their best to encourage Egon to stop working, but it just resulting in them being thrown out of the lab. The boys sometimes called you their “secret weapon” which they would release when things got bad. 

You gave a sad sigh and nodded in understanding to Peter. “I’ll try my best” you muttered as you took a bag from ecto-1’s side door. You and Ray had picked up some snacks on the way home from your call that you were going to attempt to use. 

You headed downstairs and gently tapped on the lab door before entering. “Guess who’s back” you said cheerily, trying your best to act like you were unaware of Egon’s shenanigans. When you entered the lab, he was sat at his desk, microscope at hand. 

“Hey Sweetheart” he said softly, although you could hear the tired undertone in his voice. “How did the call go?”.

“It was just a class three, nothing we could not deal with. Although, it did get a little aggressive at the end” You explained as you came up and hugged him from behind. 

He gave a soft smile and rested one hand on your arms that were wrapped around him, his other hand continued to write down his notes from the microscope. “You must be tired from the drive home, why don’t you go and get some rest” He suggested. 

“Well, I was thinking perhaps me and you could get something to eat first?” you tried at your first attempt of dragging him from the lab. “We could order from your favourite Thai place.” You bribed. 

“That sounds great, but I really need to finish my work on this new slime sample.” Egon replied with a sigh as he continued to work with his microscope. “I really think I’m onto something with this sample, the electrochemical bond is unlike any other we’ve encountered”. 

“Oh, okay” you gave a small nod, thinking how this was going to be harder than you thought. “Well, I bought some snack on the way home from the call, we could share them in the meantime?” You suggested as you walked over to grab the bag you had put on the counter. 

“I would, but I really need to test the polarity of this sample” He abstained.

“Egon, you taking a five-minute break to eat sugary treats with me will not cause Gozer to raise from the dead.”

This time he finally looked up at you, a million thoughts seemed to be going through his head before he finally said. “Okay, but only a few minutes” He agreed, moving over to the other counter to sit next to you. 

‘Result!’ you thought. 

You gave him a bright smile and laid out the packets of food in front of you both. 

“So, did Peter behave himself whilst I was away?” You joked as you opened as packet of crisps. 

Egon hummed. “Peter behaved like Peter, if that answers your question.”  He also opened a box of twinkies as he spoke.  “I suppose it does” You agreed. “I also came up with a new theory” You announced. 

“And what would that be?” 

“Peter actually loves having slimer around. In fact, I think slimer is Peter’s favourite supernatural entity.”

Egon gave a low chuckle and you mentally ticked off another achievement box.

“Are you sure you’re not lacking sleep? That’s the most impossible theory you have conducted” Egon asked with a small smile. 

“Oh, I’m exhausted, those hotel beds should be burnt, they were horrible!” You exclaimed. You moved your neck side to side in order to relieve some of the tension. As you did so, your hair moved to the side, giving a plain sight to the side of your neck. 

Any humour that Egon had managed to gather instantly left his face at the sight of your neck. Right under your hairline, a purply black bruise began to form.

 Your neck and shoulders had been aching ever since the ghost had thrown you back into the wall. You had gotten your fair number of beatings when being on calls, but you always managed to just walk them off. You thought this was just like other times, but you were unaware of how much your neck was bruising. 

Egon slowly reached up and brushed the hair from the side of your neck, exposing more of the skin. You couldn’t help but wince a little from the pain. 

“What did this to you?” He whispered; his voice barely auditable.

You hesitated a little. “The ghost I said that got a little aggressive, he had a thing for throwing people too” You replied with an award chuckle, trying your best to lighten the mood. 

Egon clenched his jaw. “You need to ice this” he mumbled before going over to the lab freezer and pulling out an ice pack. Before he placed the ice pack on your neck, he very gently tied your hair back with the hair tie you conveniently had on your wrist. You tried your best not to wince which caused him to murmur a small “sorry”.

“I’m okay. Honestly, it doesn’t hurt that much” You reassured, taking his place of holding the icepack to the bruise. 

He sat back down next to you and gently took your free hand. “Y/N, you should really go and rest.” He told you softly, but with an authoritative undertone. “An injury like this is only going to heal with rest.”

Your eyes softened as you looked at him, really looked at him. The man before you looked exhausted. His eyes were dark but were still looking at you with pure love, His skin was slightly pale and his face had a slightly sad aura. Despite your friends attempts, nobody could persuade Egon to look after himself in the last twenty-four hours, but here he was, fully invested in your health and safety. Oh, the irony. 

“Are you in any pain?” He asked sadly, his eyes frowning a little as he noticed your eyes starting to glass over a little with tears. 

You slightly shook your head before leaning over and gently placing your lips to his. He seemed to relax at your touch, something that he had developed overtime. “I’ll make you a deal” You whispered as you pulled back to look at him, your face still quite close to his. 

He gently rubbed the back of your hand he was still holding with his thumb. He remained quiet, waiting for you to continue. 

“I will take a nap and rest my neck, but only if you come and keep me company” You bargained sweetly. 

Egon let out a sigh, he looked over his should at the slime sample before looking back to you. “Alright” He agreed. “But you’re keeping the icepack on” He added as he stood up, his hand remaining around yours as he led you upstairs and up to the bedrooms. You and Janine had your own bedroom with two double beds. Meanings that Janine hardly stayed at the firehouse, you and Egon had partly claimed the room for yourselves. 

“Now lovebirds, I don’t want to hear any noises coming from that room” Peter joked loudly as you and Egon got to the top floor. 

“Oh slimer! Peter said he wants a cuddle!” You yelled loudly with a huge smirk. The distant yelling of peter could be heard as Egon closed the bedroom door.

“I love that little ghost” You beamed as you got a set of pyjamas for you and Egon from the wardrobe. 

You both began to change into your pyjamas, Egon having to help you pull your t-shirt over your head due to the pain of your neck. As you got into bed, you gently took off Egon’s glasses and set them on the nightstand on your side of the bed, just in case he got any ideas about going back to the lab. You were a light sleeper and would wake up if he decided to slip out through the night. 

Egon wrapped his arms around you as you cuddled up to him, doing his best to avoid your neck at all costs. Just as you were about to drop off to sleep, he mumbled “I’m sorry”. You gave a small frown and opened your eyes again. “You have nothing to be sorry for” you said almost instantly. You repositioned yourself so you were resting on his chest but looking up at him. 

“I didn’t realise I was worrying people again” he said softly, looking down at you as he spoke. It had finally sunk in why you and his friends had been asking him to eat and rest a lot recently.

Your heart almost broke when you realised what he meant. “Oh Egon” You whispered sadly. You reached up and gently kissed his lips, his hand coming up to your cheek as you melted into each other’s grasp. “We all care about you so much” you told him sincerely. 

He gave a small nod before softly kissing you again. “Get some rest” he mumbled as he pulled away.  He gave the top of your head a small kiss as you repositioned yourself on his chest. 

Egon acknowledging why people were worried was the winning streak in your eyes. He was not somebody who needed to be told something many times, as soon as he acknowledged an issue, he would do his best to change things. 

“Goodnight, my love” “Goodnight, Sweetheart”

[psychokinetic-ectoplasm]

Mood Slime Confessions

This is entirely self-indulgent, but I needed to write it 😅 So here's a little smutty Ray x Female Reader x Egon fic involving mood slime, with the main pairing being Ray x Female Reader

Also HERE on AO3

NSFW under the cut!

The lights in the lab felt like a spotlight. You were seated in a chair facing Egon and Ray, a beaker of mood slime sitting between them on a small table, so that didn’t help your nerves. They were fully dressed, but you were wearing a robe with nothing on underneath. You briefly began to reconsider your agreement to participate in this experiment with them, but you reminded yourself that this was for science. Or, that’s how Egon sold it to you, at least. You were starting to have your doubts.

With a steadying breath, you undid your robe, baring yourself to the men's gaze. The mood slime between them bubbled as they took in the sight of you. Egon wrote down the reaction.

"Now what?" you asked, your voice trembling.

Ray cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "Touch yourself."

The slime gurgled.

You nodded and lifted your hands to your breasts, rubbing and teasing your nipples until they peaked. You closed your eyes, unable to look at the men across from you. Not yet, anyway. Then, with one hand still on your breast, you lowered your other hand to stroke along your thigh, slowly parting your legs. You heard one of them draw a sharp breath. It was enough to make you open your eyes.

Ray was sitting rigidly, his hands clenched into fists on his knees, his gaze glued on you. Egon shifted in his chair, his eyes flicking between you and the slime that had now bubbled even more.

"This is good," he mumbled. "We're getting more of an initial reaction than I anticipated."

"Oh, we're getting a reaction, alright," Ray muttered, tugging on his pants, trying to adjust them. He then gasped again. "Oh, jeez…"

Your fingers were now between your legs, rubbing slow circles over your clit. Doing this in front of Ray had been something you'd been dreaming about for a while now. Well, you dreamed about being with him sexually, and this was just one of your many fantasies. Granted, Egon was usually never present, but that didn't deter you, not when your attention was focused on Ray. You found Egon attractive, sure, but Ray was the one that held your affections and fueled your desires.

But you never imagined that Ray would respond to you this way. You two might as well have been the only ones in the room. And so, you gave him the best show you could give.

You slid your finger down from your clit between your folds, humming at how wet you were.  When you first agreed to this experiment, you worried you might be too nervous, but thankfully, that was not the case. You then voiced your thoughts. 

"I'm so wet already."

Ray whimpered and parted his legs further, his hips pushing forward as if on their own accord in his desperate need to be touched. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of the bulge in his pants, his erection straining at the fabric. Neither he nor Egon was allowed to touch himself yet, but, God, you wished you could watch Ray as he watched you.

Egon also made a breathy sound as he watched you, but he seemed to be in a bit more control, furiously taking notes. You idly worried he might snap his pencil in half.

You slid your finger in and out, making a bit of a show of how wet you were before adding a second. You moaned lightly, tilting your head back.

"Are you imagining anything?" Egon's question cut through drifting thoughts.

"Yes," you breathed.

A pause as he wrote that down. "And what are you imagining?"

Your face flushed hot as you realized just what was going through your mind. You hesitated long enough for Egon to prompt you again.

"Everything said and done here is confidential," he said. "Whatever you're thinking about, there will be no judgment."

You couldn't look at either of them anymore, but you continued to move your fingers. "I'm imagining someone else touching me," you admitted quietly.

"Who?" Egon asked.

You briefly bit your lip. Should you lie? They wouldn't know the difference. But at the same time, you wanted him to know….

"D-Dr. Stantz."

For the first time, you heard Ray breathe out a curse. It was enough to have you look at him again. He had a death grip on the arms of his chair, and he'd broken out into a sweat. Egon cleared his throat again.

"I see. And do you often think about him when you masturbate?"

You'd already admitted this much; what difference would the whole truth make now? "Always." Ray's lips parted further, and he let out a harsh breath. "I always think about him."

"Always the same fantasy or different ones?"

"Different. Sometimes he's touching me. Other times he's— Fuck…" you breathed, your eyes closing as your mind was filled with images of Ray's face between your legs, his lips and tongue doing positively sinful things to your intimate flesh. You swallowed hard, and your voice was shaky when you spoke. "Other times, he's going down on me."

Ray breathed your name, nearly rising out of his chair. Aside from just wanting to touch himself, he obviously wanted you, too. He wanted to be the one touching you, the one to make you cum. It made you let out a proper moan this time.

"Egon," Ray then bit out.

"Not yet, Raymond."

"But—"

"Not. Yet."

You were so close now, the thoughts of Ray swirling around your head driving you to move your other hand between your legs, your fingers teasing your clit.

"Are you close, sweetheart?"

You whimpered at both Ray's question and the term of endearment he used. "Yes," you whined, rolling your hips. Each curl of your fingers brought forth a wet, squelching sound, letting both men know just how wet and how close you were. "Oh, Raymond, I'm so close!"

Ray let out a low moan. “I know, baby, I know.” He swallowed hard. “Just— Just keep imagining it's me, that it’s my fingers making you feel so good.”

You came at his words, tumbling over the edge with a cry of his name. Your juices slicked your fingers and thighs but between that and you crying out his name as you came, Ray only became even more desperate for you.

Meanwhile, Egon grabbed another pencil after breaking the lead tip off the first one. He had his lap strategically covered with the clipboard he was writing on, which might have made you chuckle under more normal circumstances.

Egon glanced at you and promptly cleared his throat. "Uh, Ray… I think we have enough for simply watching. We can move on to phase two."

You knew what phase two meant, and you weren't entirely ready. No, scratch that, you were very ready, but nothing could have ever quite prepared you for seeing Ray frantically work to get his pants undone and withdraw his cock, hard and leaking from having watched you bring yourself to orgasm.

The idea was that Egon was supposed to be a passive observer while you and Ray would test things out to see how the slime reacted to him reacting to different stimuli. You couldn't help but smirk at seeing Egon so flustered. There really was a hot-blooded man under those lab coats and sweater vests, after all. 

But Ray… Ray was more open with his reactions, even if there was a nice flush on his cheeks and a hesitancy in his movements. He was just as nervous as you but also just as eager. And now that you knew how badly he wanted you, too, it only enhanced the experience.

He groaned as he began stroking himself, slicking his cock with precum. Your legs parted further at the sight, your core throbbing, your hips shifting forward, and your fingers just barely teasing your clit again.

"Ray," you breathed, a desperate need to be filled by him washing over you.

He reached out his free hand to you. "Come here, sweetheart."

"But, Ray, that's not—" Egon began.

"I don't care, Spengler!" Ray watched you raptly as you stood and approached him, letting your robe slip to the floor. “I need… Sweetheart, I need…”

You sat down on his lap, straddling his thighs, and put your lips close to his. “Tell me, Ray,” you whispered. “What do you need?”

Ray's free hand gripped your hip, and his breath stuttered against your lips. “You. I need to be inside you, sweetheart. Please.”

You moaned and lifted up, lining his cock up with your entrance and sinking down onto him. He pressed into a heated kiss, both of you swallowing each other's moans and whimpers as his cock stretched your cunt, still sensitive from your orgasm. God, why had you never done this before with Ray….

You kissed him with fervor, licking into his mouth as you waited a moment to adjust to him. But as soon as you began moving, you both broke the kiss to gasp.

"Fuck, you feel so good, baby."

You'd never get over hearing him curse, especially because you knew he was saying it because of you.

"God, Ray, so do you," you moaned, rolling your hips, loving the way his cock felt massaging your inner walls.

He ran his hands up your back and then back down to your hips. “I’ve imagined you, too,” he admitted quietly. “When I touch myself, I think of you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” He smiled a bit sheepishly. “Though nothing could have prepared me for the real thing.”

Ray grabbed your hips and aided your movements, helping you bounce on him. The mood slime on the table next to you bubbled over the side of the beaker, but you barely noticed. Ray then hooked his hands under your legs and stood, turning and stepping over to set you on the nearby workbench.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he rasped against your lips, resuming his thrusts.

"Why did it take so long?" you whispered back, holding him close.

"I was afraid you didn't feel the same. I didn't think I could stand your rejection."

"Oh, Raymond," you sighed. "I've wanted you for so long."

He moaned and redoubled his efforts, thrusting into you with abandon, chasing his release, all the while quickly pushing you towards yours.

"I'm going to cum, sweetheart," he gasped.

You hooked your legs around his waist to keep him close. "Yes, Raymond!" you cried. "Cum in me!"

You moaned in unison with Ray, finding your release. A second later, his thrusts faltered, and you felt his cock kick within you, his hot cum bathing your walls. You trembled and whimpered, pressing as close to him as possible. Ray held fast, both of you panting.

"So beautiful, sweetheart," he breathed, covering your face with kisses. "So perfect."

"So are you, Ray," you breathed back.

He smiled and repeatedly kissed you as you both caught your breath.

"You want to give Egie a turn?" Ray asked against your lips, smiling. "He's been very patient."

You nodded, gasping as Ray slipped from you, mourning the loss. But Egon was in front of you in a second, his pants and underwear already pushed halfway down his thighs. He ran the head of his cock through your folds.

"I know you don't want me like you do Ray, but—"

You cut Egon off by grabbing his face and kissing him. He hummed, startled, but melted into the kiss. Egon eased himself into you, making you moan into the kiss. He felt amazing, too, as he filled you, burying himself within you to the hilt, and immediately started moving. You broke the kiss with a gasp and wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders. After watching just you and then watching you and Ray, Egon was more than desperate, his moans and whines like music to your ears.

You were so lost in your pleasure, so needy for release again, that even Venkman could have come in here and taken over, and you wouldn't have minded.

Ray was leaning up against the workbench opposite you and locked eyes with you. He was lightly touching himself again, his cock stiffening in his hand. You threaded your fingers into Egon’s hair and tugged, moaning as you watched Ray pleasure himself.

Pulling on Egon’s hair was apparently too much for him, for he suddenly pulled out of you with a choked moan and immediately came on your thigh. If he had stayed inside you, you probably would have cum with him, but you were still teetering right on the edge. You just needed a little more, just a touch…

Ray stepped up behind Egon and put a hand on his shoulder. Egon stepped to the side, and Ray took his place, his lips meeting yours as he sheathed himself inside of you once more in one fluid movement, making you sob in pleasure. Things seemed extra slick between you, and it took you a second to realize he'd used the mood slime to lube himself up.

The sheer amount of pleasure that coursed through you as Ray fucked you through your orgasm had you shaking and sobbing and clinging to Ray for dear life as you came harder than you had the previous times that evening. Ray's hums, whimpers, and frantic thrusts told you he likely felt the same way.

Your mind felt fuzzy in your post-orgasmic haze, but you were aware enough to feel Ray snap his hips hard one last time before spilling inside you, his cock and hot cum making you feel so full you might go insane.

"Yes," he exhaled, followed by a shaky moan, his forehead pressed hard to yours. "Oh, yes, sweetheart."

You ran your hands restlessly over his back and through his damp hair, all while you gasped for breath. You might as well have been a puddle of pure bliss, completely spent and sated. 

Ray eventually stepped away from you once he'd caught his breath, and Egon appeared at your side, pants done up again, and cleaned you up with a warm, damp cloth. You jumped a bit when he touched between your legs, still overly sensitive, but he was so gentle. You smiled and squeezed his hand as a thank you when he finished.

"You did wonderfully," he murmured and tilted his head toward the table that was now mostly covered in mood slime that had expanded exponentially in volume. The excess was dripping onto the floor. "We've never gotten such good results."

His faint smile was teasing, and you lightly shoved him. "Gee, thanks."

Ray approached again, dressed once more, with your robe in hand. He helped you get it back on and gently kissed your forehead.

"Thank you," he whispered, and you knew he meant it sincerely, that he was thanking you for the experience and finally admitting your feelings to him.

"I love you, Raymond," you whispered back.

He grinned and tenderly kissed your lips. "I love you, too."

With shaky legs, you moved over to the couch along the wall and sat next to Egon, who was going over his notes. Ray left for a few moments to find something for you all to snack on, leaving you and Egon alone. You looked up at him.

"Egon… I have to ask… Did you really need me for this experiment?"

"Of course." He then hesitated. "But I also had an ulterior motive…"

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"It was frustrating seeing you and Raymond obviously wanting each other but never doing anything about it. Your distraction was becoming… problematic and was hindering our work. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands."

"Well, I'm glad you did, then." You leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

Egon smiled a bit bashfully. "You're welcome. And thank you for including me in this. I wasn't expecting it. I wasn't even going to be here, but Ray seemed to think it would be better with both of us present."

"It was all perfect. Both of you were. And besides, I think Ray and I will have plenty of time alone now."

Ray returned after that, laid out the spread he'd gathered on the table, and quickly sat beside you, his arm immediately going around your shoulders to draw you to his side.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

You leaned into him, pecking him on the lips. "Everything's perfect."

Ray smiled warmly at you. "Yeah, absolutely perfect."

[multifandomfanficss]

A Pretty Damn Good Solution

Egon Spengler x Reader

Prompt: When Egon finds out you’ve been having nightmares all week, he decides to find a way to help you by conducting a sleep study.

Warnings: Nightmares, panic attacks, sleep deprivation, and insomnia.

A/N: This is GN!Reader with no pronouns specified. The Egon brainrot is so real so please enjoy this incredibly self-indulgent fic I wrote to the cope with my work stress induced nightmares. Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

You woke up breathing heavy, in a cold sweat. You hear quick, clumsy footsteps running through the hallway of the firehouse. At first you’re confused. You’re still out of it and you’re scared. Suddenly Egon is busting through your doorway. His glasses are crooked, his pj shirt is buttoned incorrectly, the buttons not matching the holes. He has a proton pack slung over his back. He must have been in a hurry to get to you.

“Are you okay?! I heard you scream.” He looks at you with confusion. “I thought one of the ghosts had breached the containment unit.”

“I’m sorry. I just had a nightmare.” You apologize, still trying to collect yourself. You’re shaking like a leaf.

“Oh.” He looks at you sadly, taking off his proton pack. He sits on the bed, straightening out his glasses. The bed dips, shifting you towards him.

“I apologize for my appearance and demeanor. I was under the impression you were in danger.” He looks down at his shirt, fixing his buttons.

“I’m sorry I worried you.” You say, sheepishly.

“No, don’t be.” He draws out the o on the no, speaking softly, inflecting his tone upwards to try to bring you comfort. He gives you a soft smile, to match his tone.

You sit in silence for a few minutes. Egon isn’t quite sure what to say, but you don’t mind. Despite his awkwardness, he was still deeply comforting.

“I forgot to ask. Are you okay?” He breaks the silence.

“Not really. I’ve been having nightmares all week.” You begin to fidget with a string on your blanket.

“(Y/N), why didn’t you say something?” He asks.

“I didn’t wanna bother anyone.” You shrug your shoulders.

“You’re living in a building with several scientists who care about your well being. I assure you that you wouldn’t be bothering us. We could have helped you. You should have at the very least spoken to Peter. His concentration is psychology.” Egon tried not to lecture you, but he was confused as to why you were suffering alone instead of asking for help. He didn’t like to see you in pain.

“I guess I thought I should be able to deal with it on my own.” You avoid eye contact. Egon finally puts the pieces together. It wasn’t always easy for him to read social que’s, but he could read his friends easily enough.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed. Everyone has nightmares. They could be caused by a number of reasons. Typically mine are caused by stress, but I’ve since figured out how to get a handle on them through scientific means. Where they used to be constant, they’re now more rare for me.” He sympathizes.

“I didn’t know you had nightmares like that. I’m sorry.” You respond.

“They’re handled.” He pauses for a moment, thinking. “I believe it would be beneficial for me to conduct a sleep study on you starting tomorrow night, with your consent of course.”

“Do you really think it’ll help?” You look at him, desperate for an answer to your problem.

“Yes. I’ll have everything ready tomorrow night, but do you need anything before I go?” He asks.

“Can I please have a hug?” You request. Usually you’d be embarrassed, but right now you didn’t care. Egon had been the greatest comfort you’d had in the last several nights.

“Of course.” He smiles, a small blush creeping onto his cheeks. The hug is awkward at first, but you both relax into it. He’s warm and his pajama shirt is soft. While Egon’s presence is always calming, his steady breathing and heartbeat do wonders to bring you back to a more relaxed state. He begins to rub your back. “We’ll get to the bottom of this and just remember you’re not alone.”

————————————————————————

The next night you’d shown up to Egon’s lab as requested. You’re surprised to see he’s set up a cot with your favorite blankets and pillows. He was nothing if not observant.

“I gathered some things from your room in an effort to make you more comfortable.” He speaks, walking around the room, pressing buttons and moving things around.

“Thank you.” You smile. You sit down on the bed and Egon begins to fit wires to your forhead.

“May I?” He asks, gesturing to your chest.

“Um yes- yeah uh that’s okay.” You blush. Egon moves your shirt over and attaches wires over your heart. “I really appreciate you doing this.”

“Of course. It’s no problem, really. Do you need anything before you go to sleep? Can I get you a glass of water?” He asks.

“No, but can you explain how it’s gonna work again?” You lay down, attempting to get comfortable.

“While you’re asleep I should be able to see any changes in heart rate, breathing patterns, or brainwave activity. I can collect all the data I need and all you have to do is sleep.” He explains.

“Seems simple enough.” You give him a smile, despite your nerves.

Egon leaves the observation area and the lights dim. You close your eyes and fall asleep.

About 2 hours into the study Egon starts to notice a rapid elevation in heart rate and your breathing becomes heavier and inconsistent. He scribbled down notes, watching your brainwave patterns until you shoot up gasping. You start to pull at the wires attached to you, not remembering why they’re there. Egon enters the room with his journal and pen in hand. He approaches your bed.

“You’re okay. You’re in my lab, remember? I have to say that was quite interesting. How long did it feel like you were stuck in that nightmare?” He asks.

“Uh I- I don’t know, like hours?” You debate, trying to catch your breath.

“You were asleep for about 2 hours, but you only entered REM state about 15 minutes ago, which is when you started dreaming.” He takes down more notes.

“Only 15 minutes?” You ask, your voice and body shakey. Egon pulls a chair up to sit next to you. He lays his journal on your bed and takes your hand in his. He begins to feel your pulse. You instantly start to calm by his touch. He’s observant of this. He decides to keep holding your hand even after he’s done checking your pulse in an effort to keep you calm. He writes with one hand and holds your hand with the other.

“Can you tell me a bit about the dream?” He asks.

“I was alone in the firehouse and the containment unit broke and I was being chased by a demon. I woke myself up before it caught me.” He gives you a look. On one hand he feels bad that you were so scared, but on the other hand he’s intrigued.

“How did you wake yourself up?” He asks.

“I have like this thing I do if I need to escape a dream. I feel like I’m pushing and pulling and clawing my way out of reality, like I’m trying to swim through molasses until I wake up.” You tell him.

“That’s amazing. From my end your adrenaline spiked enormously. I didn’t realize you were doing that on purpose.” He scribbles down some more notes.

“Yeah. I guess that’s a thing I do.” You say awkwardly. “Did you get anything useful?” You ask.

“Yes, but I’ll have to run more tests throughout the week.” He closes his journal, turning to you. He realizes he’s still holding your hand. He doesn’t let go. He was so excited by the scientific aspects of the experiment he forgot why he was doing this in the first place. “We’re going to figure this out, but until then I’m here.” He smiles at you, giving you a look of sympathy.

————————————————————————

The next two nights went similarly to the first one. You would have nightmare and Egon would remind you everything was okay before sitting down next to you to take notes as you recounted the dream. Your dreams were often about being chased or not being able to save someone. You would usually use your emergency escape out of your dreams. Talking about your dreams helped. It gave you an outlet and it aided Egon’s studies. The two of you had fallen into a routine and it was starting to help.

Tonight was different. Egon watched as your heart rate spiked and your breathing patterns began to change. Your brain activity was off the charts. He knew you’d be up soon. He watched as you tried and failed to pull the emergency break. You begin to thrash in bed. He wonders why you haven’t woken up. He enters the room just in time for you to shoot up screaming and covered in sweat. You begin to hyperventilate, crying out. “Egon!” You cry for him. Tears start to stream down your face. He runs to your bed.

“It was just a dream. You’re okay. You’re safe. I’m here. Everything is okay, (Y/N).” Egon tries to keep his voice calm, but he speaks with urgency. He places his hands on your shoulders, trying to ground you. You can’t get your breathing under control.

“I- I couldn’t get out! I couldn’t get out! I was stuck and I couldn’t get out!” You’re speaking a mile a minute.

“(Y/N), look at me. You’re awake now. You’re safe. I won’t let anything hurt you. I need you to try to breathe with me. (Y/N), what’s three things that you can see?” He asks, trying to bring your focus back to reality.

“I can’t” You sob, unable to focus.

“Yes, you can. What’s three things you can see?” He repeats.

“I see your journal. It’s in the chair.” You try.

“Good that’s two things.” He smiles.

“Your pen is on the floor.” You continue.

“I dropped it when I rushed in to check on you. What’s two things you can hear?” He asks.

“The clock is ticking really loudly and- and I can hear… the heater is on.” You tell him, listening closely.

“Good. What’s one thing you can touch?” He asks.

“Can I touch you?” You ask, hesitantly.

“Yes, thank you for asking.” He smiles. You grab his hand, beginning to trace all the lines and wrinkles on it. You learn every detail of his fingerprints. Tracing the indents and following the patterns comforts you.

“Are you feeling a bit better?” He asks.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I’m just having one of those moments where it’s hard to tell what’s real and what‘s fake. I woke up from a nightmare, but it was just another nightmare. I don’t know if I’ve ever had a dream inside of a dream before. I thought that was just in movies.” You keep tracing his hand.

“No, it’s real unfortunately, but so am I and so are you. This is real.” He gestures between you. Part of himself means that the two of you are real and your interaction is real, but another part of him meant something different. The care you have for each other is real too, very real.

“I hate that I’m still tired. I don’t wanna go back to sleep, but I know I have to.” You sigh.

“Would it make you feel better if I stayed in here with you?” He asks. While he’d usually be too awkward to ask this, his solution is based in science. All of his research points to his presence being a comfort. This gave him more confidence.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” You hope you’re not being an inconvenience.

“If I minded I wouldn’t have offered. I want you to feel like you’re not alone.” He gives your hand a squeeze.

“I think that would help me a lot actually.” You start to shift, laying back down in bed. Egon gets up to turn the light back off, kicking off his shoes and lab coat before getting back into bed with you.

“I figured it might.” He smiles. He always loved when his scientific theories were proven right, especially one that benefited both of you so much. It brought both of you comfort to be in each other’s arms. Egon’s presence was enough for you to sleep soundly for the rest of the night and he was happy to know that you felt safe and calm. Even if it was only a temporary solution to your problems, it was still a pretty damn good solution.

“Goodnight, Egon.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

[finniestoncrane]

mm I’m haunted by so many visions. When. When Egon Splenger. Makes that joke. The penis joke. And he has that smile. That look. With the bookcase behind him. TUMBLR USER FINNIESTONECRANE! I have NEVER felt such a STRONG urge to shove a man against a bookcase. He just. I. When he. When. Just like. He. When. Mm.

Egon Spengler x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.6k anon you and me both i cant express to you how badly that scene made me want him and i wanted him pretty fuckin badly before that lmao BUT here's some reader who is actually able to prove his theory that the chicks dig his epididymus moore so👻 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: oral sex, flirting, handjob, good old fashioned ball gargling

"Studious, dedicated. Intelligent beyond need for the work I'd require you to do... Why do you want this position?"

You remembered the moment well. The interview with Egon that landed you the job in his research team. You'd fumbled over the words at first, your entire academic career flashing before your eyes. Ever since you had first seen him in those silly commercials, then watched him as he saved the world and went back to the field for his work, you'd wanted him. The opportunity to work with him was something you had waited your life for. And you thought you had ruined it in the moment.

"I'm a huge fan, Doctor Spengler."

Nothing about your academic achievements, your interest in this particular study, or any of his previous ones. No, you'd muttered a ridiculous statement with no substance that made you seem like a childish moron.

But Egon had raised an eyebrow, a smile raising on one side of his mouth in a knowing look. Almost flirtatious, definitely something behind it.

That's how your relationship had continued, the tension only building each passing day as you worked together late into the evenings and often on weekends, each others' only point of contact for days on end.

Nothing had ever come of it, though, past suggestive remarks and lingering touches, looks that felt like they lasted for minutes. You wondered if you were both far too shy to confront it, or if he felt it would push the boundaries of professionalism.

Either way, you harboured the crush still, and spent your days making sure you worked to his expectations, living to please him in at least one of the ways you wanted to. It was that level of concentration that meant you hadn't noticed when Egon's old colleague, Doctor Venkman, had entered the lab. At least not until he had begun making loud remarks and crude jokes, intended to be at the expense of Egon.

"Bet those science chicks really dig that big cranium of yours."

With a quick glance in your direction, Egon caught your eye. You looked away, trying to pretend that you weren't staring at him, but it was obvious he had caught you. And with a growing grin, he looked back to Venkman.

"I think they're more interested in my epididymis."

You blushed immediately, understanding the joke a lot faster than Venkman, who might not have gotten it at all. Trying to hide the reddening of your cheeks, you buried your face in your paperwork and didn't even bother to look up as Venkman said goodbye and left the lab. You only looked up when Egon cleared his throat, catching him just as he turned his back to you and continued filing through the paperwork and medical books lined up on the shelves in front of him.

That was a giveaway, a hint, securing the possibility in your mind. Egon had been talking about you. The joke, a reference to your clear interest in him, a sly but subtle nod at the unspoken attraction, an inside joke between you and him in front of his friend. The way he had looked at you, the way he always did. It was difficult to deny it. So you took matters into your own hands, a little bit sick of waiting for him to make the first move. You'd applied to the job, you'd complimented him first, you began the surreptitious flirting. You might as well be the one that started this too.

"Doctor Spengler..."

You spoke from the other side of the room, only beginning to walk towards him when he had turned away from the bookshelves and was paying attention to you.

"... do you have any evidence to that theory that you proposed?"

"Which theory?"

"The one about your... cranium, verses other aspects of your anatomy.

As you approached him, he smiled to you, a knowing grin that spoke volumes.

"I've observed a fair amount of evidence to support it, actually."

He turned from you again, filing the last of the files he held in his hands as he continued.

"Although, I suppose for it to be concrete, I would require some quantifiable data. An example that could-"

As he turned once more, he found you right in front of him, reaching your hand out to cup the front of his dark grey, woollen slacks. You stroked down the quickly stiffening length, letting your fingers reach further, teasing at his balls. Leaning into him, you pushed his back against the book case, watching as his eyes widened, his smile grew brighter, and his cheeks began to darken.

"Would this be sufficient evidence?"

Egon's voice shook on the first word, but he managed to compose himself.

"P-perhaps. Although, it wouldn't be much to write about in an academic or research sense."

"Oh, I can give you a lot to write about, Doctor Spengler."

You pressed your chest to him, hands around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. As your palms drifted around to his cheeks, they quickly fell to his tie, tugging on it as you brought him closer, feeling his own hands skimming over your side, settling on your waist as the kiss deepened. Satisfied that he wasn't going anywhere, you let go of your grip on him and began running your hands through his hair, playfully teasing at the curls before you pulled back, watching with glee as he followed you, lips outstretched, before opening his eyes.

"This isn't about your cranium, though, Doctor Spengler."

Sinking to your knees in front of him, you looked up as you unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. He reached behind him, resting his palms against the rows of books and files, trying to balance himself as he cleared the nerves from his throat. A short inhale choked in his throat as you gripped his cock, removing it from his underwear and letting it bounce free in front of you.

You wrapped your palm around his surprising, but slim, length and being stroking it slowly, watching the way his mouth moved, tongue pressing out, soft gasps emanating from his throat, as you felt him throbbing against you. And just as he adjusted himself to the sensation of your hand pumping his cock softly, you leaned forwards, tongue out, spread flat, and suddenly against his balls.

"Oh-ho... oh my."

With a soft laugh, you placed a kiss to his sack, lips wet from your drool, and let your mouth pull away for just a second before you went back in for another, tongue pushed out from your lips to lap at him as you kissed once more. On the third one, you let your lips enclose over a patch of skin, sucking slightly, tongue tip stiff and tracing over the skin in your mouth before you let go.

You stroked his cock a little rougher, placing your tongue just below it so his balls could bounce and slap on your tongue, the gentle impact rousing a heat in you, the sound almost electric in the air. Egon's fingers were stiff, tensed, tented against the shelves so firmly that his knuckles were white.

"This is... quite sufficient evidence... if you'd like to conclude the experiment."

"Do you want me to stop, Egon?"

He looked down to you, your gaze returned through your eyelashes as you blinked slowly.

"No. No. Absolutely not."

"Me either."

With a grin you kept going, fingers still wrapped tight around his cock, palm sliding against it as you pumped it rhythmically. You opened your mouth wide as you stroked, letting one of his balls rest on your tongue before you sucked it into your mouth, salivating at the taste of him, drool washing over his skin and dribbling down your chin as you hollowed your cheeks.

You let go with a pop, slurping as you released him from your lips, frothed drool spilling onto your chin as you tried to clean yourself up before diving back towards him, moaning as you jerked his cock and lapped at both balls now, futilely attempting to fit both of them in your mouth at the same time.

Instead, you let your tongue glide over them, flitting quickly from side to side as you tightened your grip on his length, only faltering with your speed when he stuttered out some words with a desperate, pleading tone.

"Ah... I think we have... sufficient evidence to... reach a... hmmm... conclusion..."

"Of course, Doctor Spengler. How would you like me to collect the results?"

A strangled laugh barked out of his throat, his eyes pressed tightly shut as he processed the words you had just said, so serious, so familiar, but so filthy.

"T-tongue... tongue, please..."

Still stroking his shaft, you picked up the speed and brought your other hand up to cup his balls, squeezing them firmly, easing up every now and then so he could feel the throb of pleasure as you tightened once more. Your mouth was open wide, a moan passing up and over your tongue which was laid out flat, ready for him.

It only took a few more seconds before his cum was painting your tongue, as well as the rest of your face. Thick, white ropes of his warm seed spattered on your skin, along your taste buds, a not unpleasant tang of salt lingering even after you swallowed what you had collected, still more of it dripping from the tip and onto your hand.

You stroked a few more times, until his body convulsed at your touch, and then you let go, standing up in front of him and wiping a drop of his cum from the corner of your mouth. He was unbalanced, his eyes half-lidded and hazy from the release, but he managed to speak through his lopsided smile.

"Wait until the scientific community hears about that."

[needa-sum-luvn]

I'm actually tweaking... I hate it when I'm scrolling on tumblr, and I click off the tab to scroll on tiktok or do something else and I come back and the page reloads and puts me back at the top of the page. LIKE LEAVE ME ALONEEEEEUH. IM JUST TRYING TO READ MY EGON SPENGLER FANFICTION BUT NO. TUMBLR HAS TO TAKE ME BACK TO THE TOP OF THE FUCKING PAGE AND MAKE ME SCROLL ALL THE WAY DOWN AGAIN. crashing out rn.

[belles-non-wallpapering-content]

Dracula and Mina E.S x FEM! Reader

Overture- Egon has to go to the mayor's annual Halloween party to babysit Venkman, but he's bringing you, and you just found the perfect costume

CWs- Checking each other out shamelessly, rented costumes, kissing, biting, this is actually just a love letter to Harold Ramis' teeth, because oh my god.

A/N- Day 10! Just about 1/3 of the way through and I still haven't decided between two Halloween costumes. Also I was generally picturing a short version of the red dress Winona Ryder wears in Bram Stoker's Dracula, just for reference. Lots of ruffles, a bustle, low cut, etc.

If you'd like to read the other things I've written this month-- October Writing Master List

Every year the mayor throws a huge halloween party, where he lets his rich and famous donors dress up, drink for free, and usually agree to give him more money. This year you and your boyfriend are going too, and he could not possibly be less enthused. 

Peter leveraged invites from the mayor’s office as payment for a few public service ghost busting jobs, because he wanted to make fun of rich people and drink for free. A noble endeavor, but one Egon was not excited to babysit. Ray begged him to go, and after he agreed that Egon could bring you, he accepted. 

You were over the moon. Even if you weren’t a big party girl, a costume party with your wonderful boyfriend was something you could never pass up. You started brainstorming costume ideas immediately, until you came up with the perfect idea. 

Egon would be Dracula, and you would be his love, Mina. It was purely selfish, you got to wear a short, low cut red dress (Watching Egon get incredibly flustered over it), and you got to look at Egon in a suit with his hair pushed back. You declined getting him false vampire fangs, his naturally sharp teeth were arguably one of your favorite things about him–physically anyway. 

You kept your lips sealed about what you’d both be wearing, but tonight was the night. After as many lie detector tests as he could get away with while you were half asleep, and some intensive snooping, he still couldn’t figure out what you wanted to be for the party. But when he got back to his apartment, while you were nowhere to be found, a garment bag was left on his bed. The suit was inside, with a note stuck to the outside. A hot pink sticky note that just said ‘No Biting 🖤’ written in your handwriting. 

You started getting ready early. You wanted your makeup already done, and hair all set by the time Egon knocked on your door, you knew he’d be here well before you had to leave. He knocked more as a formality, then let himself in with the key you gave him. 

You couldn't decide whether to swoon or laugh at Egon, walking fully serious through your apartment, with his little cape in hand, suit all done up. 

“So no biting? None?” You knew that would get him riled up. But what fun would it be to just tell him what you were planning? He loved surprises. 

“Mmm. I don’t know, this is kind of a work event for you, since we’re going with your coworkers and all.”

“This is only so that Venkman can get intoxicated and embarrass the mayor for fun, I don’t think professionalism is a concern.”

“Oh come on now, calm down. You haven’t even seen my outfit yet.” You winked at him and picked up the garment bag with your costume in it, and then closed yourself in the walk-in closet to change, leaving Egon to sit on your bed and wait. You took your sweet time pulling on the short, extravagant dress, and even longer pulling on the accompanying stockings you bought later. 

“Could you help me lace up the back?” You called out as you opened the door, just as you were walking back out. 

“Of course.” He agreed before he saw you, and he was immediately worried he wouldn’t remember how to tie a knot with how beautiful you looked. He was putting everything he had into focusing on the laces instead of how much he’d rather have no plans, and really forfeit the ‘no biting’ rule. He must’ve cleared his throat half a dozen times to try and reset his brain, just hoping to keep it together a little bit longer.  

“So what do you think? I thought it could be a cute matching type thing, you know? Dracula and Mina.”  He gave a wistful sigh, hands planted firmly on your hips. 

“I cannot believe I agreed to go to this party, I’d much rather be able to stay home with you–in this– tonight.”

“So you like it?” You threw your arms around his neck, his cape in hand, pushing yourself even closer to him. He was just starting to recover from the shock of your costume choice, but the proximity got him flustered again. 

“Yes– that–that is accurate.” But when he leaned in to kiss you, you leaned away, pulling back to wrap the ribbons of his cape around his collar. 

He pouted intensely, but once you got the knot tied loosely, and tucked into the collar of his button up, you gave him two kisses. One on the lips, and then while he was still distracted and smiling, one on the tip of his nose. 

He responded by letting himself fall forward, face first, until his mouth met your shoulder. He pressed one kiss before letting his teeth start to lightly sink into your skin. 

“You are going to leave a mark, and I don't think I can handle the teasing from your coworkers. Even Ray was picking on me last time.” He didn’t come up from his leaned down position, but he did release his teeth long enough to get out a retort

“You’re the one who chose a vampire costume.” 

“And I stand by that. Now let’s go, spend 20 minutes making fun of Peter, he’s probably already drunk by now. But then we can come back here. I have the costume until the 3rd.” You gently pushed him back up, cupping his face with your hand. 

 “I’ll clear my calendar.”

[eebydeebyderby]

Are You Ready?

A one-shot in which Reader tends to a badly-injured Egon Spengler in the firehouse during a blizzard lockdown.

General info:

Female reader insert, Hurt/comfort, Egon Spengler whump, friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending

~4.0k word count

Content Warnings:

Blood, description of injuries (he'll be fine, I swear)

The world is frozen over. 

The city is in complete lockdown as the blizzard rages outside, the worst storm since the ten-day ice freeze of 1931. It was quite sudden, with the city only getting three hours of notice as the eye of the storm approached from the Atlantic. There was quite a frantic scramble outside as people scurried around to secure spots, with sirens and car horns and chatter echoing through the city. But, the only noises coming from outside now are the deafening howls of the blizzard. Emergency services will be completely unavailable for the next twelve hours until the worst of the storm passes, and rolling blackouts are expected throughout the city’s power grid. 

Egon sits cozy in his lab, where the sounds of the storm are only a faint whisper. He has the entirety of the firehouse to himself, a rare luxury that he’s eagerly enjoying. It isn’t that he dislikes his coworkers—far from it, he’s quite fond of everyone—but, for the most part, solitude is his preferred state. He doesn’t have to worry about entertaining anyone, doesn’t have to worry about carefully treading around delicate social customs that he so-often blunders through. 

He hears footsteps descending towards the lab and he's immediately annoyed. He was looking forward to his night of solitude and now that was ruined.

“Egon?” a voice calls out. “Are you down here?” 

Oh. It's you. 

Immediately his annoyance fades, replaced by a nervous excitement that bubbles in his chest. “Yes. I'm down here.” 

You trot down into the lab, fresh-eyed and brightly awake, despite the late hour. He can't help but smile a bit at the sight of you, so charming and lovely with a blanket tossed around your shoulders, your arms full of old, tattered textbooks and notebooks. “I didn't know there was a lockdown,” you say sheepishly. “I was napping upstairs with my walkman and I guess I missed all the storm alerts. Is it alright if I work down here for a bit? I hate the idea of being alone upstairs during the storm. It's spooky, you know? All that wind rattling the windows. I know you were probably wanting to be alone, and that you don't really like people just barging in here, and you probably stayed so you'd be alone, but…” 

You trail off, and he sees the nervousness on your face, the fear that he'll reject your presence like he’s done countless times with other people. But, he's never kicked you out. Never you. Still though, you're hesitant. “You're always a guest I look forward to having. I want you to make yourself comfortable and stay as long as you'd like.” 

You smile, and he sees your nervousness relax. “You know, I'm glad it's you I'm here with. I really like spending time with you.” 

His heart flutters in his chest and he can't help but preen. “Likewise,” he says simply, hoping the heat burning in his face isn't too noticeable.

You settle in nicely at one of his spare desks and get to work. He returns to his own tasks, but can’t help but occasionally glance at you. You're sitting at the edge of your seat, lightly bouncing your knee and deeply concentrating on your work, silently mouthing words under your breath as you pore over the ancient texts. Brittle pages and old books are scattered around, with one heavy textbook even open in your lap as you scribble in a notebook, jotting down the spiritual intonations of civilizations long dead. He loves you. You’re radiant and splendid and wonderful and delightful and he loves you. He's loved you for quite some time. 

You catch his eye and for a split moment he's absolutely mortified that you caught him staring. But you just smile warmly at him, melting the icy pit formed in his chest, and he can't help but give you a half smile in return. You put your pen down and turn to face him. "What are you working on?" 

"I'm resetting the trap I set next to the sweets drawer and changing out the bait." 

"Did you finally catch that rat?"

"No. I caught Venkman." 

You scoff and shake your head a bit in disbelief. 

"I blame myself a bit. In hindsight, I should not use one of his favorite treats as bait. I apologized and offered to buy him lunch tomorrow. Overall, however, he was a very good sport about it.”

You cock an eyebrow, and there's a glint of mischief in your eyes that is so endearing to him. "Peter reached his grubby Peter fingers into a trap and expected not to be…trapped?"

He nods. 

“What happened next?” 

"Ray took him to get it stitched up," he says, raising his coffee mug to his lips. 

"Really? The veterinarian was open that late?"

He snorts into his coffee, spilling it down his chin, and you laugh. He catches your eye and can't help but smile as he wipes his mouth on the back of his lab coat sleeve. Your laughter is in no way derisive and adds a lovely glow to your face, and it's a delightful sight for him to take in. Then, he notices it again, like he's done countless times before: there’s a melancholy about you.

Beneath the sweetness of your smile, the brightness that flashes in your eyes when you laugh, he always catches a fleeting glimpse of something. Something he can never quite place, something he can never string into coherent words. He’s barely able to notice it before it fades away from sight, disappears beneath the depths in your eyes. He can’t see it anymore, but he knows it’s there. It's always been there, since the day he met you. He often imagines himself wrestling it to the surface, grappling it until he's able to free you from its grip entirely. 

             He shakes his head a bit. A stupid thought. He's almost embarrassed at the absurdity of it. 

The lab falls back into silence. He returns to his tasks, and you return to yours. 

“Egon?” 

The sound of his name in your voice is so lovely and sweet, it almost sends shivers down his spine. “Yes?”

“If it's not too much of an inconvenience, could I borrow your copy of Tobin’s Spiritual Guide?”

“Of course. It's no inconvenience at all.” He makes his way over to the huge bookcase that lines the entirety of the walls on both sides of the old fireplace and slides the ladder over to the proper section. He climbs a few feet up to the shelf labeled “Spiritual Entities, Cryptids, and Other Beasts” and starts scanning through the titles of the books when the rung of the ladder he’s standing on snaps beneath him. 

A jolt of panic shoots down his spine as he tries and fails to find footing; the sharp metal of the broken rung tears deeply through the side of his thigh as he falls and he hits the ground with a harsh “Oomph!” The broken ladder clatters next to him on the ground, dripping and spattering blood off its broken rung. He gasps. “Shit!” he hisses under his breath. His hands grasp his thigh and hot blood spills between his fingers, soaking through his pants and pooling onto the floor. The pain hits him all at once, tearing the breath from his lungs—a stabbing, searing, sickening pain that splinters viscerally through his entire leg. He cries out a bit at the fresh waves of pain that course through him like venom with each heartbeat that sends blood gushing between his fingers. The back of his head bumps the ground and he squeezes his eyes shut, his breathing grows rapid and shallow as the room spins around him. He's light-headed. He's dizzy. He's nauseous. He's going to pass out—

“Egon, move your hands.” 

Your voice is surprisingly smooth and calm next to him, and it tethers him back from complete panic. You’re kneeling next to him, the large first-aid kit open on the ground next to you. He complies and you slip a tourniquet under his leg. He groans and grits his teeth, unable to suppress the whine that escapes his lips as you tighten the tourniquet around his thigh as much as you can. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you sputter. He sees the split moment of panic on your face when you feel his blood on your hands, hot and viscous, wrong and horrifying, but you quickly reel it back. The bleeding almost instantly slows down to an ooze, but it aches terribly. 

“Don't cover it up yet,” he says quickly, seeing the pads of gauze in your hand. He props himself up on his elbows, trying to will his heart to stop beating so rapidly. “I need to see how bad it is.” You wordlessly hand him the scissors from the first-aid kit and he deftly cuts off his bloodied pant leg just below the tourniquet. He hears you gasp and he needs to suppress his own as he sees the extent of it. The deep wound flays him nearly to the bone on the outside of his thigh, extending more than a foot long. “Shit.” He lays his head back on the ground, nervousness coiling around his throat. It's bad. It's undoubtedly very, very bad. And it fucking hurts. 

Your voice is quiet when you're able to finally summon it. “What do you say we do?”  

“It needs to be cauterized.” 

“Isn't cautery outdated? Shouldn't we just keep the tourniquet and wrap it up?”

“Emergency services will be unavailable for at least ten hours, and the tourniquet will have me septic in less than six hours, but I'll bleed to death without it. Dressing alone won't adequately stop the bleeding, stitches are too shallow.”

“Alright. I trust your judgment. What am I supposed to use for the cautery tool? 

“I have a battery-operated welding blade in the drawer at the welding table.”

You wince and swallow, hard, looking down at your hands covered in his blood, already beginning to dry and crack on your palms. “Okay, okay. I'm gonna wash my hands real quick and come back. Then just tell me what to do from there.” 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“ ‘Sterile non-stick gauze. Lidocaine 5% mucoadhesive wet dressing. Sterile sodium chloride saline 0.9% solution. Isopropyl alcohol 99%,’ ” you mutter under your breath, reading the labels of the various tools you pull out of the first-aid kit. “My reluctance kind of comes from the fact that I…really, really like you,” you say as you scrub your hands down with rubbing alcohol. “If you were Venkman then I’d be delighted at the chance to stick a blade in your leg.” You set the bottle of alcohol on the floor. “Okay, just running this through real quick one last time: first I rinse with saline, then I do the cautery, then I put the wet dressing, then the dry dressing.”

He nods. 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Okay.” You slowly exhale. “Okay. Step one: saline rinse.” You crack open the bottle and hold it over his leg. “Are you ready?”

He nods, a knot forming in his stomach.

“Okay.” 

He involuntarily sucks in a sharp breath and squeezes his eyes shut as an icy chill washes over his leg, immediately followed by a fiery sting that courses through his leg like venom. It's bitingly cold and freezes him to the bone, but it also burns so, so badly. He grits his teeth but a slight groan still escapes his lips, followed by a strangled whine. He's immediately ashamed and clenches his jaw so much that it aches, focusing all of his energy on staying quiet. His heart pounds rapidly in his chest, sweat forming on his brow. 

“Sorry, sorry. Okay, that's done.”

He sharply exhales the breath he didn't know he was holding in and he struggles to pull enough air into his burning lungs with shallow, rapid panting.

“Hey, Egon?” Your hand slips into his and his heart flutters in his chest. “Hey, you're doing good. You're going to be alright.” Your voice is so soothing that he wants to believe you. His eyes are still shut, but he nods. 

“Next is this.” You pour rubbing alcohol all over the welding blade in an attempt to disinfect it. The harsh, acrid fumes sting the inside of his nose and burn the back of his throat as it splashes on the ground next to him. “This is insane. This is absolutely insane,” you mutter rapidly under your breath. “I feel like I’m torturing you.” 

“You’re not.” He tries to sound confident, but his voice is strained and shaking. “Don’t feel guilty.”

“I’ll do my best. How long should I keep this thing on your leg?” 

“A minimum of ten seconds, no matter how badly I react. Anything less would not adequately stop the bleeding.” 

“No matter how badly you react,” you repeat under your breath. “Fuck, dude…” You shut your eyes and for a moment you look like you're about to cry, but you manage to force it back down and open your eyes to reveal a frightened, brittle resolve. You switch on the welder and the little old machine sputters to life. He hears the crackling of the heating element and a sickening shiver runs through him, settling heavily in his stomach as a nauseating dread. The dark gray blade glows a faint red and yellow with the heat burning through it. “It’ll be over soon. Just ten seconds.” You sigh, and he sees your brow furrow as you steel your nerves, forcing yourself into a state of strained calmness. “Are you ready?”

No. He's terrified. He's in pain. His composure is failing and he doesn't want you to see him completely fall apart. “Yes.”

“Okay.” You hold up the makeshift cautery blade and take aim, putting your other hand and knee on his upper thigh to keep him still. “Now.” You plunge the blade into his leg. 

He screams. 

His entire body convulses but you keep his leg pinned firmly beneath your knee. The pain is blinding and searing and overwhelming and he screams until his throat seizes and he's desperately choking for air. His vision blanks and he's nearly on the verge of passing out when—

It's over. 

You pull the blade away and his entire body goes limp. His head is spinning and his chest burns. Tears run down the sides of his face and he’s gasping and panting between sobs, unable to catch his breath. He cries out again with the icy jolt that shoots up his leg when your shaking hands press the wet compress to the freshly cauterized wound. He tries and fails to steady his breathing, fails to stop openly sobbing as you wrap the dry dressing around his thigh and remove the tourniquet. 

He's ashamed that you're seeing him cry. Egon Spengler, a man who prides himself on prioritizing rationality over emotions, is reduced to a sobbing, quivering mess in front of the woman he's in love with, his clothing and the floor beneath him soiled by a sickening mixture of saline and his own blood. His face burns with embarrassment. How pathetic he must look to you, the facade of the level headed scientist shattered. Frustration boils within him and tightens within his chest. 

Oh. Your hand grazes the side of his face, and his attention snaps to you. Your touch is warm, gentle, and so, so soothing. You're talking to him. You've been talking to him this whole time, but it's only now that his scrambled mind is able to actually notice it. 

“Hey, it's okay. It's okay,” you whisper to him, stroking his sweating, clammy face. “It's over. You're gonna be okay.” Your other hand slips into his and he weakly grasps your hand in return. You continue talking to him for several minutes, gently stroking his face and occasionally squeezing his hand as tears flow down his face. There's sincerity in your gestures of comfort, a deep genuineness that can only be made through love. Still, though, he can't stop crying, but he's no longer self-conscious about doing so in front of you. 

Eventually, his breathing begins steadying a bit and his heart stops beating so wildly in his chest. The lidocaine dressing starts taking the edge off the pain, leaving behind a dull, painful ache that throbs through his entire leg. It still hurts terribly, but it is far from overwhelming. 

A headache starts to settle heavily behind his eyes. His entire body shivers violently despite the heat burning through him. Nausea curdles in his stomach. He squeezes his eyes shut but it isn't enough; the lights still ache deeply and seem to tunnel through his head.

You gently lift his head and put a damp rag on the back of his neck. He gasps at the chill that shoots down his spine, but the relief it brings is almost instant. His nausea wanes; the painful throbbing of his head begins to dull as you delicately lift his glasses off his face and set them safely aside. You place another damp rag on his forehead and he's grateful that you cover his eyes, completely blocking out the light. 

You're tossing the blanket you brought down earlier over him when the lights go out, leaving the two of you in complete darkness. The coffee maker stops gurgling, the heater stops rumbling, and the lab is left in near complete silence, the only noises coming from the raging storm howling faintly outside. “Crap…” You rummage through the first-aid kit for a flashlight. “Egon, I’ll be right back. Try to get some rest.” 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Egon. Egon.” You gently nudge his shoulder, rousing him from his heavy doze.

He groans and grits his teeth with the dull agony that settled in his leg as he slept, heavy and stiff; his hands instinctively grasp his thigh in a futile attempt to try and relieve some of the pain.

“I know, I'm sorry, but your temperature’s spiking a bit and I need you to take some ibuprofen to try and get it down. I also found a couple Vicodin in Peter's things that I think you'll appreciate.”

He takes the small handful of pills and voraciously downs both water bottles you offer him. 

He's bundled up under several blankets, warm and cozy, despite the discomfort of the hard floor beneath him. The fireplace crackles and spits as the only light source in the lab, animating the shadows of the objects it illuminates in its soft, hot glow. “Power's still out. Pipes are frozen,” you say, rising to your feet. His eyes follow you as you toss another hunk of wood into the fireplace, sending a pleasant wave of heat over him. “But we're doing alright.” You glance at him. “You’re starting to look a bit better.”

“Where did you find wood for the fireplace?” he asks.

“I can't tell you. Also, Peter's nightstand is now missing.” 

He snickers. The pain in his leg has already started lifting, replaced by a faint, floaty feeling. “Of all the places to grievously injure myself, next to the fireplace is a lucky break.” 

You look at him intently, and there isn't a hint of humor on your face. 

“Sorry,” he says just a bit too quickly, his face practically steaming with embarrassment. He clears his throat and scrambles a bit for a change of topic. “I really admire you—especially in the way you handle yourself in an emergency. I admire a lot of things about you.” 

You scoff. “I see the Vicodin is kicking in.”

“If anything, I think my mental faculties are more perspicuous with the hydrocodone. The distraction of the pain is much less pronounced.” He slowly pulls himself into a sitting position, wincing a bit, but the pain is just a fraction of what it was, throbbing dully deep in his leg. “Though, I must say that our recent experiences together have also given me a greater sentiment of closeness to you. I feel safe with you. I’m sure part of this mentality is just the narcotic inhibiting my usual reticence, but for the most part, I believe it’s authentic.”

“Egon.” 

You kneel next to him, and he has trouble seeing your face in the harsh shadows cast by the crackling fireplace. One of his old coats is draped around your shoulders and it’s far too large on you, which he finds so, so endearing. A burst of affection washes over him, bubbles in his chest and brings warmth to his face. The urge to kiss you is overwhelming, almost primal. He catches your eye and leans forward. 

You read his intentions and pull back. You gently place your hand on his chest, nudging him back a bit. “Look, I'm not sur--” 

“Please, I want to kiss you.”

“Egon.”

“I love you. I’m in love with you,” he blurts. “I've been in love with you f—”

“Stop! Stop it! Stop talking!” That melancholy about you suddenly rushes to the surface and bursts forth as tears in your eyes and you clench your jaw, bite the inside of your cheek, but the tears flow freely down your face. You sigh, annoyed, and avert your gaze, impatiently wiping your eyes on your sleeve. “Look, Egon, this is not a conversation I'm ready to have right now. I am so fucking overwhelmed as it is, okay? I just…Fuck, don’t do this to me now.” 

His heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach and he lies back on the ground. It’s not an outright rejection, far from it. But, it still aches deeply in his chest as you weep next to him, your head bent and your palm on your forehead.

“I'm sorry,” you say quietly, your voice thick with tears. “It’s just, it’s been a really bad night. If I hadn't asked you to grab me that stupid fucking book then none of this would have happened. And I have my own goddamn copy upstairs! I just didn't want to go grab it! And I almost killed you because of that!” You lift your head. “Seeing all that blood, hearing you scream like that…Oh my God, that was so awful. Oh, Egon, I'm so sorry…” You sigh, summoning all your courage for your next words. “I love you. I really do. I love you so much that it sometimes keeps me up at night.” He’s positively euphoric at hearing these words. His heart soars, but your next words send it plummeting back to the bottom of his stomach. “But, Egon, I feel so terrible about it.” A sob hitches in your throat and you struggle to keep your next words steady. “Look at this fucking mess we're in…”

He reaches for your hand. You see him, but don't protest as his fingers intertwine with yours. His other hand slowly reaches up and gently cups the side of your face. You lock eyes with him, and he sees the sorrow aching so deeply within you, your vision blurred by the tears flowing freely down your face. 

“I love you,” he says simply, delicately wiping a calloused thumb beneath your eye.

You shake your head. “How could you?” 

“How could I not?” he answers earnestly.

You crack a small smile. You press a kiss to the palm of his hand and hold it against your face, delighting in the warmth of his touch. He's absolutely exhilarated at this, and he smiles so brightly at you that you can't help but smile back, despite the fresh tears spilling from your eyes. He sees it now, the reason behind the melancholy about you:

You love him. 

You love him so deeply that it burns through the core of your very being. That love for him that would flash in your eyes every time you smiled at him, everytime the brightness of your laugh lit up your face, has now rushed to the surface and painfully burst forth as tears running down your face.

You bend down and plant a soft kiss on his forehead, still holding his hand in yours as you lie down next to him in front of the fireplace.