#egon x y/n

[chaigirly]

Egon Spengler

Oh my good looking boy ⬅️ Link

Preview ⤵️

Saying you loved Egon was an understatement.

You adored this man with your whole heart, even if you didn’t understand most of the things he’d talk about it.

“So how do the ghost trappers work exactly?” You ask, walking with Egon downstairs to load todays catch into the containment unit.

You knew that would spark one of his rants, going on about things you couldn’t even repeat due to the complexity of his vocabulary.

You didn’t care though, it was intentional.

Just because you didn’t get it didn’t mean you couldn’t listen and try to understand.

Plus you loved his voice and the little glimmer in his eyes whenever he talked about something he was passionate about.

“When they’re activated by spiritual energy, they generate a localized electromagnetic field that attracts and captures spectral entities.

The trap opens to create a containment vortex, which, assisted by our proton streams, draws the ghost inside.

Once captured, the trap seals automatically, securing the ghost within a stable containment grid to prevent its escape,” he says as if it was common knowledge and you hadn’t zoned out while staring at him.

Oh he was so cute when he talked about anything to do with spiritual activity.

This hadn’t been the first time you had asked him about it and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time either.

How could you not?

He loved talking to you about it even if he knew you didn’t completely understand.

And you loved listening to him.

Well, staring at him and daydreaming would be more accurate.

———————————

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭

↳ warning: supernatural elements

↳ notes: requested by anonymous. was going to be headcanons but ended up turning into a one shot. enjoy

↳ song: ghostbusters—ray parker jr.

masterlist | commisions | carrd

This really wasn't supposed to happen.

It was supposed to be a simple job. One of the easier ones you all had gotten hired to do all month. That's what Ray had said to you as you zipped up the front of your uniform in the firehouse, and you believed him.

A customer had called in last week, sounding out of breath as they complained of a room in their house that always felt cold when they walked into it. You could practically smell the incense through the phone, and your suspicions were confirmed when you later stepped into their house.

After Peter had sarcastically made sure it wasn't just a problem with their AC unit, Janine penciled them in for an inspection a few days later, and that was that. You and the rest of the Ghostbusters went to the nearby Chinese restaurant that night and forgot all about it.

Now, you were hiding behind an overturned table as an apparition whizzed over your heads, shrieking in a language none of you could decipher.

"I thought you said this was a class one spook!" You shouted at Egon as he fumbled with a trap nearby. He shot you an irritated look through the rims of his glasses, as if to say 'what am I supposed to do', before going back to tinkering with the trap in his hand.

"Someone's gotta get out there and distract it!" Peter yelled over the noise of plates being smashes. You winced, imagining that the client wouldn't be too happy to hear that their kitchen was ransacked during the procedure. If you could even call it a procedure.

"Ray! You're up!" Winston called from his place next to you, shoving his coworker out of the hiding spot just a little.

"No way! It was my turn last time!" Ray griped. As he said that, a stray fork flew by his head, nearly missing the side of his face as he yelped and ducked further under the tables cover.

"I'll do it." You volunteered whilst reaching for the proton pack at your back. You were sure that if you looked over at that moment, you'd see Ray sending you the most grateful look you'd ever seen.

The others waited for Egon to finish preparing the trap, Peter mostly yelling at him to hurry up, as you rose from your place on the tiled kitchen floor.

The ghost turned to look at you as you let out a wolf whistle. It's hair floated wildly around its head like a crown of thorns, and you heard one of the guys from behind you gulp with difficulty.

"Hey Casper!" You grinned with what you hoped was a considerable amount of bravado. "Why don't you don't you pick on someone your own size?"

You wouldn't remember falling onto your back after the ghost charged straight at you. Nor would you remember how it slimed down into a fine mist, slipping into your mouth with a hissing noise. Bruises covering your spine would leave the evidence of a fall later on, but that was the only sign that anything had happened.

The boys watched as your eyes rolled back to reveal a milky white gaze. Peter nearly dropped the nozzle to his proton pack as you began to levitate; your chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. For a minute, it reminded him of when Gozer had possessed Dana. Although, you were his friend, not fiancé, and wearing a jumpsuit instead of a dress.

"Uh guys?"

"I'm seeing it, Winston." Ray replied without taking his eyes off of you. Wind began to pick up in the house, blowing his hair to the side as he watched you with wide eyes.

"Egon!" Peter yelled over the noise. "The trap??"

"Done!" He finally announced. "Someone hold them down!" The scientist shouted, forehead beaded with sweat as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He stood up with shaking hands, nearly dropping the trap as he stepped around the table and towards you.

Ray and Winston both grabbed your arms and legs, pulling you down from your spot in the air with a considerable amount of force. Peter attempted to push you by your chest, but was headbutted by the ghost and sent flying backwards. You, or rather the ghost occupying you, made a sound between a cackle and a scream.

"I've never wanted to punch a ghost more than I do now." Peter groaned from the floor as he hauled himself back up. He'd have to get Dana to check him for a concussion later.

"I need a stream, Venkman!" Egon stepped away from the Muon trap as if it was a live bomb. "Ray, Winston, on our count let go of them and duck!"

"Don't have to tell me twice!" Winston said as he avoided yet another kick from your boot.

The sound of an engine powering up filled the room as Peter and Egon switched on their packs, directing the end of their nozzles at you. The two men glanced at each other nervously and Egon's foot hovered over the traps pedal anxiously. You just continued to flail.

"You sure this won't hurt them?!" Ray yelled. He brought his head back a significant amount as the ghost inside of you attempted to bite at him.

"No idea!" Egon fumbled. His glasses were nearly flying off of his face with the wind, but he pushed on. "Now, Peter!"

Ray and Winston made a dive for it as two multicolored streams encased you in a bright light. The spirit inside howled with discomfort, kicking its legs in an attempt to escape.

Without warning, Egon stepped on the trap, releasing a beam that shot into the air and struck the ceiling. He knew from experience that there would be a faint singe mark left on it later, but that was the least of anyone's concerns. The client would just have to deal with it.

Taking careful measure not to bump your body into any stray debris, they guided the spirit closer and closer to the trap until its form began to separate from yours. The horrible sucking noise it made nearly coerced Egon to drop his gun to cover his ears.

One moment, you were floating in the air, speaking tongues and way too close to a piece of dangerous machinery. The next, you were laying in a pile of broken china plates as your eyes rolled back into place.

"Hey. Hey, bud, come back to us." Peter said, slapping your cheek slightly to bring you back down to earth. He had been the first to drop to the ground next to you, lifting your head up to make sure nothing had scraped it in the fall.

Ray came next from his hiding spot behind a now splintered chair, then Winston's wide eyed form, and finally Egon holding a smoking trap.

"Vitals appear to be steady." Ray said. He pulled his fingers away from the spot on your neck he had been checking, looking at the rest of them. He sighed like a ten pound weight had been lifted off his chest.

"You worry too much Stanz." Peter said, jesting. But his usual playful tone was dampened, and he didn't look up until you groaned.

"Did anyone catch the number of that bus that ran me over?" You hissed, shielding your eyes from a nonexistent bright light.

Silence.

Winston broke out into laughter first, with the rest following suit. Egon smiled as Peter giggled, and Ray was practically rolling on the floor.

"Trauma response." Egon said between baritone chuckles, only able to get one word out at a time. "Surprised this is the first time we're having one."

"Do I even have to ask what happened?" You said while pushing yourself up on your forearms. Winston just shook his head at you, and slapped you on the back.

"We'll tell you back at the firehouse, kid." He said with a shake of his head. You frowned at the nickname, but eventually let a smile crack.

The five of you sat in each other presence for a little bit, letting the laughter die down as the mood came to a stop.

"So—" Peter cleared his throat.

"—who wants to be the one that talks to the client?"

You were left sitting on the floor as they all scrambled to get out, surrounded by broken glass.

"Assholes."

[pumpkinickel]

A Mix-Up || Egon Spengler x reader

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

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

Word Count: 669

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

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

On AO3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[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”

[arsonyte]

Crack A Smile, Sir (Egon Spengler x OFC)

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Rating: General

Author’s Notes: As requested by @spenglerposting, this fic is inspired by Joy Again’s “Looking Out For You”. Barely proofread (I tried!), please bear with me.

This is a love song for a girl who will never know it's about her I know it's pretty stupid, but I'm much too shy to tell her She's beaming that smile, all the while I'm all choked up on my own throat, I guess there is no hope

Sweat running cold down the back of his neck, Egon Spengler found himself facing an empty firehouse, almost five minutes before midnight.

Panting, gasping, clutching his suitcase against his chest, he chastises himself inside his head. Peter after all did warn him that he will be coming home to a dark lab if he didn’t stand up from his usual spot in the library. He didn’t tell him, amidst all the racket Peter was making (gathering all the librarian’s negative attention towards him, as usual), that he was too busy hiding in the library on that one miserable Christmas Eve. 

He was hiding from you.

You may be a contractor bio analyst/technician for the now-famed “Ghostbusters”, more like the friendly neighborhood Paranormal Exterminators, but you’ve known Dr. Peter Venkman, Dr. Ray Stantz, and especially, Dr. Egon Spengler from your time at the Columbia University. You were some wide-eyed biotech graduate student who may have been initially dragged into Dr. Venkman’s psychic “experiments”, but thanks to the wit and grace of Dr. Stantz, you completely saw through Peter’s machinations. Despite being unable to coax you into his wiles, Venkman still became one of your good friends, allowing you to consult and work with Ray regarding your research on plasma biology.

It was Dr. Spengler who was actually hard to crack. Ray’s closest friend usually worked at the back of their office, hunched over some energy-measurement meter of some kind, with sparks from his solder being reflected on those round spectacles. Whenever you talked, consulted, exchanged notes with the jolly Dr. Stantz, you’d barely hear from the other academian, unless he had to interject with a correction or an obscure fact which Ray would just enthusiastically confirm and explore. Most of the time, he’d just stay quiet in his corner, shoving another piece of Cheez-it in his mouth.

You somehow got used to the three differing personalities in the Parapsychology department -- the flirty Venkman, the enthusiastic Stantz, and the ever-elusive Spengler. However, the word “elusive” took on a new meaning that night you offered him the last Twinkie in the box you brought in that one long night you agreed to help Stantz and Spengler with their ghost research. The ever coveted Twinkie almost fell into Peter’s conniving hands, but by some stroke of luck -- you were the last person who got ahold of it (and despite you being a usual fixture in their department, Peter wouldn’t steal it out of a guest’s hands -- a lady guest’s hand even) and instead of eating it, you stuck your hand out and offered it to the sulking scientist who regretted not getting to do the groceries the night before. 

Things were never the same after that, but you -- being the oblivious scientist yourself buried in her own work, barely noticed it.

First it was those helpful comments when you were building your own version of a P.K.E. meter to help Ray test his plasma subjects. The helpful comments were also accompanied by a few tweaks by his own hands here and there, and completely ignoring your exasperated “Please let me do it, Dr. Spengler!” noises behind him. 

Then there was the unopened box of crunch bars left at your station. And the spare notebook that was just handed out to you, without any hesitations, when you ran out of pages in the middle of an experiment. And the expensive Parker sign pen almost thrust in your nose when your pen ran out of ink. And that one evening when you woke up in the darkness of the lab, having fallen asleep beside the microscope. You found yourself covered in a thick blanket you’ve never seen before, but it wasn’t similar to what Ray often used (which he just often took out Venkman’s cabinet). But it wouldn’t have been Venkman (as he’s busy dating his current psychic assistant), nor could it have been Ray (as he left the lab five hours ago to chase a lead). You started getting ideas when you heard the crunch of a Cheez It coming from the other room.

You swore that you were so close to making Egon Spengler smile (a feat that most of his students wanted to do before their graduation day), and you did see the corner of his lip twitch upward when you correctly assumed the correct equation to the experiment they were doing before they ran off to the New York Public Library. Well, right after that they were expelled by the Dean and you had to go looking for another department to work with to finish your mini-thesis. And the rest was history.

It was barely six months when you were looking for a part-time internship to cover your requirements and you got that phonecall from Ray. Enthusiastic as ever, almost hollering on the phone, Dr. Stantz talked about their first catch and the need to have someone come in and help analyze the subjects. Maybe come in for a few days, provide the results, and then back out. It wasn’t a full time job, the pay wasn’t going to be as steady, but it had everything you needed to work on your CAPSTONE project. Ray didn’t even have to beg -- you immediately said yes.

You did it for your studies. You can say that. You do wanted to graduate on time -- somehow. But somehow, there was that tiny voice in your head wondering if you would ever get the chance to make Dr. Spengler smile before you graduate. Little did you know, it wasn’t really Ray’s idea to invite you to join their cause.

It was almost as quiet as your lab days in Columbia, but it was chaos the moment the fire alarm was rung. Then there would be some days when the plasma subjects would pile up and you would find yourself sleeping over, curled up on the single sofa in the middle of the lab. Somehow, there were nights when you’d wake up in that same comforter you recognize from Columbia, and you couldn’t help but peer around the corner as if waiting to hear a bag of Twinkie opening itself. 

There was that one night when you finished your work early, turned in the papers, and almost crashed into the boys who just arrived on their remodeled Cadillac.

“Going somewhere, Y/N?” You heard Spengler address you with your last name after you greeted Ray. This wasn’t the first time you saw him in the Ghostbuster jumpsuit, but there was something that made you step back when he towered over you. (Spengler on the other hand, wondered if you were startled with the smoking ghost trap hanging from a cord on his hand.) 

“She’s got a hot date!” Venkman called out behind him as he entered Hook & Ladder Company 8′s double doors.

You barely noticed the “Huh” that escaped Spengler’s mouth, nor the way Ray signaled to him, crossing his hands back and forth, trying to deny what Venkman just stated.

“It’s not a date!” You were used to Venkman being ridiculous that way. “I was going to return a senior’s book-bound thesis--”

“That’s how it starts!” Venkman’s voice now came from within the doors, causing Stantz to palm his face. Spengler, however, wasn’t listening. “Where will your dinner be?” He asked as if he wanted to take you there, swinging the ghost trap out of the way so he can step closer to you without driving you away again.

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s just at the Galleria around the corner,” you gestured, making a face at Stantz, as if a plea for help to get out of the situation. “I’ll be back next week--”

He already had his back turned to you and Stantz when he looked over his shoulder and quietly asked, “Is the report on the Chinatown Ghost subject done?”

You blinked at him. “Yes,” you answered. “I left it on your desk.”

Ray wondered if you were that oblivious to see the sad glint behind Egon’s thick glasses. “Good,” he answered flatly. “See you next week.”

What you didn’t know was Egon actually hovered around Janine’s station the rest of the night, asking if there was any ghost incident call coming from the Galleria. Venkman left an off comment wondering if Spengler would like to haunt the restaurant himself.

It may have already seemed obvious to the boys, but it wasn’t that obvious to you. Or, you just didn’t want to recognize it, thinking that maybe Egon just thought of you as one of his good friends.

You start having doubts when you find a note underneath his microscope that read: 

If anything happens to us -- then this microscope set is yours. 

P.S. The black trunk beside the fridge is yours too. Take care of it. 

You’ve always noticed that black trunk beside the refrigerator, which you often piled the completed reports you have regarding the ghost cases. Pushing the wad of yellowing papers aside, you managed to clear the lid of the trunk and eventually unlocked it, only to discover dozens and dozens of petri dishes inside. The strong odor of molds filled your head.

“Huh,” you found yourself mimicking Egon during that night when you went to the Galleria. You wonder where the boys were. (There was a gaping hole in the roof that day you found the note, anyway.) The last thing you knew they were working on was an incident happening at a Manhattan High Rise in the Upper East Side, and about some Sumerian God named Gozer.

Luckily, they were back and hailed as heroes the next day. Of course, the work tripled, and the more testing and paperwork had to be done over the next few nights (with Janine now giving you an extra hand with all the chaos going on. You did help out with answering the phone too, after that Gozer incident.)

You never touched that black trunk again. But there was something in Dr. Spengler’s eyes when he saw you waiting at Hook and Ladder when they got back from that Manhattan high rise. For a moment, you thought you would be able to brag that you were able to see Egon Spengler’s pearly whites on Graduation Day.

Speaking of Graduation Day, it was getting closer. The more you had to focus on your culminating project, the more you started to miss appointments with the boys in Hook and Ladder 8. At one point, you felt bad talking on the payphone with Ray, telling him to find another analyst for the meantime as you had to focus on finishing your thesis.

“You mean to come back right, Y/N?” Ray sounded worried on the phone. It made you feel bad. “Someone’s gonna be upset if you can’t finish the numbers on the Granada Residence case.”

You found yourself chuckling. “Venkman hates that case. He’ll be fine.”

Silence was found on the other side of the line. “I wasn’t talking about Venkman.” That was the first day you started thinking about it. About him.

Towards Christmas, you were slowly pulling out your things from the Ghostbusters Firehouse, but these were mostly things you can fit in a box. You were a transient contractor after all. You were on the curbside waiting for a taxi when a tall figure almost bumped into you, carrying a giant brown box.

“Y/N?” The deep voice made you turn around, and you find yourself looking up at Egon who found himself staring at the brown paper box. “Y-You’re leaving?”

You smirked at him. “Didn’t Ray tell you, Dr. Spengler?” To your surprise, he only slowly nodded.

However, it was your turn to stare at the box in his arms. “Wait a minute--” you exclaimed. “Did you have the coffee maker fixed?”

Egon shrugged. That coffee maker has been broken ever since that incident with the containment unit. Luckily, you weren’t in that day the EPA stormed Hook and Ladder 8, but you were there when the repairs were being made. You had to work through a leaking ceiling and without coffee for days on end. You did get coffee from the deli around the corner, and you were kind enough to buy the boys their own cups of coffee during those days after the Manhattan High Rise incident.

“Yes,” there was some sort of glee in Egon’s voice. “And I’ve got a new bag of Arabica beans with a wonderful roast that I know you’re fond of--” He finds himself rambling amidst another taxi passing you by. “I was wondering if you’d like to have a cup of coffee with--” he clears his throat. “Us, before you go.”

It was weird. It was awkward. But it was Spengler. It was what made him Spengler. It suddenly felt something refreshing, almost rejuvenating.

“I can’t,” you wrinkled your nose at him as you looked at the nth taxi that passed you by. “I’ve got this report to present at the University.” 

Trying to ignore that crestfallen air forming about the man, you quickly muttered, “I will be back Christmas Eve though! I still have some more things to pick up.”

The “oh” that escaped Egon felt like a breath of fresh air. “On Christmas Eve?--”

You nodded. “I’ll be there,” you murmured as you tried flagging the yellow taxi that ignored you again. Fucking New York taxis. “Walker will be helping me carry the rest of the papers--”

You saw him blink behind those thick specs. “Walker?” Egon’s flat tone was returning. “The Guy from the Galleria?”

You shrugged at him. “Yeah, the classmate--” you corrected him. 

“Huh.”

You turned around to find him walking towards the Firehouse doors, his face obscured from you once more. “Let’s hope he doesn’t like coffee,” were the last words you heard from him before the door closed.

It was Christmas Eve. And that was the racket that Pete was making the library about. 

“Don’t be so silly Spengy--” he was exclaiming as he flopped on the chair beside the bespectacled, disgruntled scientist. “Those boxes will be out before midnight and you’ll never get to bug that girl about the mitochondria count on the plasmic sensor--”

“Venkman,” Egon said sternly.

“So what if Galleria Boy is there with her? What if he’s just there to hold her papers?” Venkman muttered while eating Spengler’s unfinished bar of chocolate to further aggravate him. “You fixed that coffee maker for what? A couple of dollars and not even one cup brewed--”

There was something that made Spengler look at the library’s Grandfather clock which was almost thirty minutes to twelve, causing him to grab all the books on the table and leave Venkman alone on his chair, who was starting to get the stink-eye from the library admin.

“Finally!” Venkman boomed before being swapped on the shoulder by the elderly librarian.

But now, it was already twelve. He got there a few minutes to Christmas and the Hook and Ladder 8 remained empty. He must have been too late.

Egon Spengler walked over to Janine’s empty reception desk and slumped on a guest chair in front of it, still hugging his suitcase. He almost kicked himself by not making it obvious. Venkman hated it whenever Egon took his comforter from his cabinet and draped it over you whenever you were sleeping. It became a habit for him to leave a small treat on your table whenever you left or weren’t looking, and he found joy when you looked around wondering from who it came from, before opening it and putting it in your mouth. He decided one day to have the coffee maker repaired after he saw you exhaustedly asking him if he wanted some too before you trudged miserably towards the deli. 

It was the small things. He frowned wondering if he shouldn’t have tried to hide it, and maybe for once you’d be smiling at him -- not at Venkman who made those stupid jokes, not at Ray who enthusiastically supported your ideas, not that Walker kid he had no idea about and probably slept in his class a long time ago. Him, who thought about leaving his spores and fungi collection to you in case Gozer got him and the guys.

Leaning back against the chair and sighing, Egon peered in the dark and tried to gain some resolve about the situation. I guess she’ll never know. I guess it’s best she doesn’t know.

That was when the Hook and Ladder door burst open.

Spengler was too consumed in his thoughts to recognize the small steps that wandered in, only coming to his senses when that person opened the lamp on Janine’s desk.

“Dr. Spengs???” You exclaimed, staring at the Ghostbuster whose glasses were misting with the cold. Or was it? “You’re still here?”

He stared at you, wondering if he was just imagining things.

“Didn’t expect to see you here -- on Christmas even -- all alone,” you said unbelievably, shaking your head at him.

“But--” he started, setting his suitcase down to fix his glasses. He couldn’t believe it was you. “But I thought--”

You placed a hand on your waist and sighed. “I was here,” you answered the question he couldn’t finish forming in his mouth. “I almost cleaned the place if I wasn’t your contractor,” you laughed, brandishing the firehouse key at him. “All those journals on ghost formations--”

“Any self-serving thief would go for the proton packs--”

You shook your head at him. “Eh, I’m a researcher--” you laughed. “I’d be going after your journals.”

Was that a shadow of a smile on his face or was it just your imagination? Is this really happening?

“And that Walker guy--” he started slowly, brown eyes slowly appraising your figure in front of him.

You shrugged. “Went home to celebrate Christmas with his family. Left me alone running after the journal I left--” You picked it out of the mess that is Janine’s papers. “Here.”

A cold breeze came through the door. Suddenly, for Egon, it really felt like Christmas.

“So, will you stay and have coffee with me?”

You couldn’t believe it.

You are definitely going to brag to your batchmates that Dr. Egon Spengler had the brightest smile you had ever seen.

[tinyvesselhearts]

DID SOMEONE SAY ANGST

[agaypanic]

hi omg i got so excited when i saw you were doing egon spengler x reader aaaa! could you do egon and an personality opposite reader? he's all serious and deadpan while she's happy and upbeat (it'd be cool if she was the new girl in the team and had a crush on him). sort of like a "she fell first, he fell harder" situation?

The Sunlight On My Spores (Egon Spengler X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: The new addition to the ghostbuster’s team is a ray of sunshine, and she has her sights on a scientist with an interest in fungi and the supernatural.

A/N: AHHHHH ive been waiting for an egon/ghostbuster request!!! since i havent written for egon before, i hope i get his character right lol also idk shit about science/paranormal jargon. and idk if eegs is spelled the way it should but it’s pronounced ee-gs, like egon but s instead of on

***

Joining the Ghostbusters definitely brought amusement and hecticness to your daily life. Although you handled more of the office work, you had seen your fair share of the paranormal action. Namely Slimer, who would get ahold of your lunch every now and then.

Ray was the first on the team that you had met, being the one to interview you. You liked to call him ‘Sun-Ray’ for his bright and positive personality.

You were pretty much hired on the spot, mainly because Janine had been complaining about the lack of extra help. But as long as you had a steady paycheck, you didn’t mind. Ray had immediately showed you around the firehouse. You met Peter and Winston on the main floor, the former being flirtatious and the latter being more polite in his welcoming. 

Then Ray took you up to the second floor, where the dining area, sleeping quarters, and lab were.

That’s where you met Egon Spengler. His tall frame was hunched over one of the lab’s many workbenches, doing some soldering work on a proton pack.

“Spengs!” Ray said with a wide grin, bringing you over to the scientist. The man in question set down the soldering iron and straightened up, adjusting his glasses as he turned around.

“What is it, Ray?” He asked in a somewhat monotone voice. He glanced at you, furrowing his brows slightly before looking back at his friend. “Who’s this?”

“This is Y/n, our new recruit!” Ray replied enthusiastically, patting you on the shoulder. 

“Ah, so you’ve filled the new receptionist position.” He said, giving you a once-over. “Janine will be happy to hear that.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Spengler.” You greeted with a smile. He outreached his hand, which you grasped firmly and gave a few shakes. His hand was slightly calloused, probably from his work, but still felt nice.

“Egon’s fine.”

“I’ve read a few of your papers on paranormal studies; I think the whole thing’s fascinating.” 

Some of his research papers weren’t the only thing of Egon’s you’ve seen. Ever since the Ghostbusters had gained some popularity, you couldn’t help but find him quite cute, spending an extra few seconds looking at him whenever a picture of the group was in your newspaper or on your television screen. 

And he was definitely even more handsome in person.

“Well then, you’ve definitely come to the right place.” Ray grinned, but your focus was still on the spectacled man before you.

“Thank you, that’s very flattering.” Although his voice was a bit monotonous, the response was genuine. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to check on my spore samples.”

“Spore samples?” You asked with curiosity.

“Yes. I collect spores, molds, and fungus.” 

“That sounds like fun!” Egon was a bit taken aback by your response. That wasn’t a reply he was used to hearing. And the fact that you sounded genuine and peppy was even more confusing to him. 

Ray, wanting to show you the rest of the firehouse, started to pull you away. You gave a quick goodbye to Egon before bounding down the stairs after Ray. Meanwhile, Egon needed to take a second to get his befuddled thoughts straight before he could tend to his samples.

***

You fell into a routine pretty quickly. The job was mainly making appointments and ensuring the boys were ready for a call, scheduled or unexpected. Occasionally, you filed paperwork or got coffee for everyone at odd hours in the day. But because the job was shared between you and Janine, you often had at least a little bit of free time.

“Got another one!” Peter announced as he stepped out of the Ecto-1 that had just rolled into the firehouse, holding up a slightly smoking trap. As Winston and Ray emerged from the car, you wondered if Peter had been wearing a poncho because he was the only one not covered at least halfway in goo. “He was a real slimy one, too.”

“I can tell.” You laughed as Ray and Winston peeled out of their uniforms with a grimace. 

“You’re back.” Egon’s voice almost made you jump; you hadn’t realized he had come down from the lab. He walked until he was standing next to you, holding his hand out towards the ghost trap. “I’ll take that, Peter. Ray, come with me, I want to discuss the containment facility with you.”

“What about it?” Ray asked as he closed his locker. Egon brushed past you to walk down to the basement, Ray close behind.

Not wanting to be caught staring at Egon’s leaving form, you whipped back around to the car. It seemed that Winston and Ray weren’t the only ones who got slimed. Poor Ecto.

“I think I’m gonna clean the car.” You thought aloud. “You guys don’t have any more calls until tomorrow.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Y/n,” Winston said. 

“Well, someone’s gotta do it,” Peter interjected. “We gotta ride in style, after all.”

“Really, Winston, I don’t mind.” You insisted. “I don’t have anything else to do.”

“Suit yourself.” He said with a shrug.

Patting you on the shoulder, Winston went upstairs to take a shower. While Peter hung up his jumpsuit, you looked around in a storage closet for car washing supplies.

“Y/n?” You looked towards the sound of the voice, seeing Egon peeking out of the basement entrance.

“Yeah, Eegs?”

“You, uh-” He cleared his throat, cheeks going slightly pink, and you wondered why. “You can wear my jumpsuit, if you want. So your clothes don’t get dirty.”

You grinned, straightening up from your slightly bent position. Peter raised a brow at Egon, although you couldn’t see that because you were also looking at the tall man.

“Thanks, Egon!”

He nodded once before going back downstairs, Peter hot on his tail. 

“You sweet on her or something, Spengs?” He asked quietly, not wanting to gain your attention.

“Shut up, Venkman.”

***

Music blasted as you washed the soap suds of the Ecto-1. You were pretty sure everyone was out of the building, either getting lunch or just not wanting to be in the firehouse. You had taken Egon up on his offer, his jumpsuit fitting very baggy on you. You had to roll up the sleeves and pantlegs, but you didn’t mind. Especially when seeing the patch with his last name on your chest.

Over the music and your own voice singing along to Whitney Houston, you didn’t hear Egon walking down the stairs. When he reached the bottom step, he watched as you jumped around to the beat. 

“I need a man who’ll take the chance, on a love that burns hot enough to last.” You sprayed the last of the soap off the front of the car before turning the hose off. “So when the night falls, my lonely heart calls. Ohh- Oh!” You yelped in surprise as you turned around, seeing Egon, who was still looking at you. His eyes trailed up and down your form, but it was so quick that you didn’t notice. “Hey, Eegs! I thought you’d gone out with the others.” Even after turning down the radio to hear his response, you still danced a bit. Although, your movements were a bit more subdued.

“I was up in the lab, checking on my fungi.” 

“Oh! Was the music distracting you?” You asked, already sounding apologetic. “I can keep it down if you-”

“No!” Egon answered quickly, taking the both of you by surprise. He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. “No, the music’s fine. I wanted a snack and found that we were out of Twinkies, so I was going to get some.” 

You nodded in understanding, moving to put away the car cleaning supplies that you were no longer using. And then you noticed that Egon hadn’t made any move to leave. You looked over your shoulder, seeing that he was standing in the same spot with eyes darting around the room, and turned back around to face him. You tilted your head with a questioning look.

“Would you, ahem, would you like to come with me?” He seemed a bit shy to ask, and it made you smile brightly. “Wouldn’t want to leave you here all alone and all.”

“Sure!” You answered enthusiastically. “Lemme just put all this away.” 

Without asking, Egon helped you gather everything and put it in the storage closet. You unrolled the limbs of Egon’s uniform, and he couldn’t help but admire you in his attire, despite how much the fabric consumed you. It was hung back up in his locker with care before you grabbed your purse from your desk and skipped over to him.

“Ready?” You nodded, and the two of you walked out of the firehouse. Without thinking, you looped your arm through his. But before you could pull away and apologize for not asking, he was already pulling you along the sidewalk, the tiniest hint of a smile on his serious face.

[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).”

[spenglersweetheart]

*Screams*

THAT ONE SCENE WHERE PETER ASKS EGON HOW SCHOOL IS AND ABOUT GHE SCIENCE CHICKS AND HE MAKES THE SEX JOKE SND READERS JUST THERE STARING BCS THEY KNOW FOR A FACT EGON IS A STRAIGHT UP SIMP FOT ONLY GHEM

OH MY GOD YES ABSOLUTELY

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

( note : i added the gif too teehee 🤭 )

You and Only You

Egon Spengler x Reader

WARNINGS : dirty jokes tee hee

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

YOU WERE IN RAY'S OCCULT SHOP. YOU WEREN'T doing anything interesting. In fact, you had just found a book that you were interested in and started reading. You were pretty much in your own world, other than the fact that they were talking about Dana's wild baby carriage and what had been the cause of it. Egon told you, and they had to keep it a secret from Peter. You can do that very well.

You heard the bell ring. That was a signal that someone had walked into the occult store. You just so happen to glance up and see Peter walking in. You sent a quick "psst" Egon and Ray's way. Your way of telling them to stop talking about it.

You pretty much kept focus on your book after that, but your ears were still pretty much sensitive to the walking around you. You weren't eavesdropping (okay, maybe you were a little bit). But they were in hearing range. What else were you supposed to do?

Peter had started talking to Egon. You overheard their conversation.

"Hi Egon, how was school?" Peter said, "I'm sure those science chicks dig that big cranium of yours, huh?"

"I think they're more interested in my epididymis," Egon replies back.

Your face slightly heats up at the joke. He knew that Peter wouldn't understand, but you would. You look up from your book, your eyes only peeking out of it. You catch sight of Egon, who gives you a smug grin, and you could've sworn that he gave you a wink.

You felt yourself hide behind your book. But you knew better. You knew that joke was directed toward you in the first place. Egon didn't care about those science chicks. Neither did you. Well, sometimes you didn't care. You didn't know why it really worried you either. You knew that Egon was yours and only yours.

You hear footsteps come your way. You look up from the book to see Egon. He eventually sits next to you, and you finally put your book down.

"You smartass," You say with a chuckle, playfully nudging him, "That joke was for me wasn't it?"

"I knew you'd understand," Egon replied back.

"Do the girls actually dig your epididymis?" You ask.

Egon shrugged. "Dunno. I know you are, though."

"Egon Spengler, I should wash out your mouth with soap," You say to him, playfully hitting him with your book.

"C'mon, Y / N. You know there's no other person that I would rather have but you. Yours and only yours, you know," he tells you.

You give a smile. "You're too sweet to me, Egie."

[ask-sister-solaris]

SPOOPY HAS HEARD YOUR CALLS! 😂

You want an angst request???? On the top of my head how about Y/n finally being able to see Egon one last time when she is helping the ogs save the kids in afterlife??? I hope that’s a good request lol

-👻

Oh shit…

Oh my heart-

“See you again”

Old!Egon Spengler x reader

Warnings; Angst…heart wrenching angst.

Your eyes widened and your heart raced seeing him again. You held your daughter Callie close as the ghostly figure of your recently passed lover and husband, Egon, appeared beside your granddaughter. He was holding the proton pack steady, helping her.

Your heart screamed for him, wanting him, to hold him again. With Egons help the original four defeated Gozer and saved the world. Once that was over you stood shakily and made your way over, hesitantly reaching out. Her hand made contact with his cold cheek as he leaned into your touch. He gave a weak smile as his fellow Ghostbusters apologized, his attention on you again. His last words ringing in your head.

“Don’t tell her, okay? Dont tell her that truth. Callie may be strong like you My Dove, but her heart is weak. I promise I’ll see you again..I love you…My Dove”

You knew Egon was dying. His friends thought he was crazy, they abandoned him. But you stayed. You had your child with him! You willingly stayed..and he was leaving. Tears stained your eyes as you realized he was wearing his old Ghostbusters uniform and memories flooded your brain..you pulled your hand away from his cold cheek and he kissed your palm, and you swore you felt the prickle of his beard again.

And he knew you were dying. Thats why you could touch him without him initiating it. A sad smile washed over his face as he leaned in and hugged her “I’ll see you again My Little Dove”

[agent-whiskeys-sweetheart]

Oxytocin

Pairing: Egon Spengler x F!Reader

Summary: While looking for a new research assistant Egon finds you, a parapsychologist whose always wanted to be a Ghostbuster. Little did you both know that there would be a lot more than research and ghostbusting that would bring the two of you together. 

Warnings: None! Just fluff. 

A/N: Bare with me y’all. I’m really trying to get back into writing so I can answer some requests that I have. Please be patient, I promise I haven’t forgotten. I just need to get back my gumption for creating things. Thank you for understanding and I love you all!

“Venkman. Venkman, you’re getting distracted again. Would you please come into the lab?” Egon calls from the threshold of his workspace. Peter turns, jogging over to the lab and finding a rather uncomfortable bench to take up residence on as the two men talked. The first closed the doors, making his way to the work table. 

“Geez, Spengs. You know, you really oughta get more comfortable furniture in here. No wonder you’re so cranky all the time.” 

“I’m not cranky.” Was all Egon could say in return as he picks up a stack of papers, handing them over to Peter. “Now, I want you to look at this research I’ve been conducting. In the New York area alone paranormal activity has nearly tripled in just the last few weeks. This is getting dangerous, Venkman. I’m not sure how but I know the slime is connected to all this. I just need more time and more hands to be able to finish my research.” Peter tilts his head to the side.

“So what do you need? A bottle of whiskey to keep you up at night?” 

“You know I don’t drink, Venkman.” Egon says, scolding mildly. “No, I need a research assistant to help me conduct my experiments.” 

“Doesn’t Ray help you out?” Peter asks, picking up a tool on the edge of the nearby table and twirling it between his fingers. Almost as soon as he does so Egon reaches out, taking the tool into his hand and setting it back down so that Venkman will actually pay attention.

“Ray is great and he knows his stuff but he’s not always here. I need someone reliable who will be at my beck and call until we can figure out exactly what’s going on with this slime.” He insists. 

“Alright. I get it. You need an assistant. Consider it done buddy.” Peter says, hopping off the bench and strolling towards the door. 

“Now, Peter. I want to hold the interviews myself. I just need the money to pay whoever I find to add on to the team.” 

“The money is yours pal.” He calls back as he finally makes his way out the door. Egon can’t help but roll his eyes at Peter’s seeming lack of caring for his current predicament. However, he pushes past those feelings, knowing that the man meant nothing by his apparent boredom. That’s just how Venkman always was. Nothing that could be done now. With the final approval from Peter, Egon set about writing out an advertisement for the papers to be posted ASAP. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Scientist Seeking Research Assistant! Matter Is Urgent, Will Pay For Help. Come To The Ghostbusters Headquarters For More Information. Interviews Being Held During Normal Business Hours. 

The ad was short, sweet, and to the point. Maybe that was what drew you to it. You didn’t need any hassle in your life right now. Just a paying gig that would fit into your schedule. Then again, there was that word. Ghostbusters. You may not have wanted to admit it, but that was really what drew you to this particular ad. That one word. Your entire life you had always loved learning about the paranormal. Of course your family hated your fascinations. They found them to be blasphemous and unholy. That never stopped you though. As soon as you had the opportunity to go to school, you finally found your place among other parapsychologists and you never wanted to go back. 

Just as you were finishing up your last year of school, you started seeing the ads on TV. A group of paranormal experts that called themselves the Ghostbusters became all you thought about. You tracked their every move, studied their work religiously. They were doing exactly what you’d always wanted to do. Catching ghosts. What a thrill that would be. Ever since, you’d made it your life’s mission to become a part of that team. Now, here was your in. You may not be a Ghostbuster but you were good at research and if you could use that knowledge to help then by god, you were going to. 

As you made your way out of your bed, you pulled on the most respectable looking ensemble you could find. Black pants, a nice blouse, and a black blazer. Simple but professional. Just what you were going for. You wanted to show them you were exactly the person they were looking for. Filled to the brim with excitement you left the house without even stopping to eat. That could wait. The Ghostbusters could not. As soon as you were able to hail a cab, you sped off down the busy New York streets for the old Firehouse. When you arrived you were completely starstruck. You’d seen it so many times but you’d never actually set foot inside and now was your chance. You gave the door a good tug, stepping into the building.

Inside the lights were dim, barely lighting your way as you looked for the front desk. It was just ahead of you, more illuminated than the walkway. There didn’t seem to be much natural lighting but frankly, you didn’t mind. Behind the desk sat a woman with a short auburn bob, flipping through a magazine. You stood as tall as you could and gave her a nod when she looked up at you. 

“Hello. My name is Y/N L/N and I’m here about the research assistant position.” Upon hearing your words the woman leans back in her chair and yells out a name towards the back of the Firehouse. 

“Egon will be here to interview you in a moment.” She says with a smile before going back to her magazine. With that you waited, taking in your surroundings. That is until a tall man with fluffy brunette hair stepped out from the back, walking in your direction. His eyes lit up when he saw you, like you were an old friend. 

“Hello, I’m Dr. Egon Spengler. Can I assume you’re here about the research assistant position?” He says with excitement. 

“Yes, I am!” You return his enthusiasm as he reaches out to shake your hand. You take it, feeling his soft palm against your own. 

“Excellent. Just excellent. I’ll be conducting the interview in my lab. Follow me please.” He opens up the small gate for you that leads into the back rooms of the Firehouse. You happily step through, feeling like you were finally a part of their world. He directs you right back to the lab, opening that door for you as well. What a gentleman he was. It made you grin to yourself as you finally stepped into his lab. There were several work tables that were neatly piled with tools and beakers filled with chemicals. Notepads with various notes on them laid strewn about. His handwriting was very neat and you could read each word perfectly. The combination of chaos and order surprised you but this was definitely an environment you could work in.

Dr. Spengler offered you a seat on the couch against the far wall, rolling over a chair for himself. You sat down quickly, eager to begin. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to jump right into things. You’re about the tenth person I’ve had in here this week and I’m very eager to move this process along.” You nod in agreement, ready for whatever questions he might have for you. “Good. Why don’t you tell me about your experience in the field? What are your qualifications?” 

“Well, I actually attended Columbia University for a number of years and received my degree in parapsychology. I’ve completed a great number of research assignments in my time there and I went on to conduct some of my own research funded by the University.” 

“Odd. My colleagues and I were actually in a very similar situation a few years back. Small world I suppose. What research were you conducting?” He leaned forward, hanging on your every word. 

“Well, I was performing some studies to determine the spike in paranormal activity in the New York area opposed to other states in the country. There has been almost triple activity in this area even just over the last several weeks and frankly, I’d like to know why.” 

“Another incredible coincidence. That’s exactly what I’m researching. I have some leads but nothing has been determined yet. That’s why I need help. I don’t have the hands or the time to do all this myself.” 

“I understand. I couldn’t determine anything either, especially since I was forcibly removed from the University last week.” 

“The more you speak, the more I feel like this is a perfect arrangement.” He adds with a self satisfied smile. “You’re much like my colleagues and I in many ways. I’m very intrigued to find out what your mind has to offer. How early can you start?”

“I can start right now!” You say, a little too exuberantly. 

“I greatly appreciate your initiative and enthusiasm. Two very underrated qualities in the world of science. You can’t just do it because you must. You have to have a passion for it. It seems like that’s something you possess.” His words have you absolutely beaming. Although you have to admit that he has certainly surprised you. Based on the ads you see on TV you’d think Dr. Spengler would be rigid and cold. However, here he is talking about passion and giving off all the warmth and friendliness you can handle. It’s a very welcome change from what you had thought initially. You can’t wait to see what other surprises are in store for you. “Well, since you’re currently available I’d like to catch you up to speed on my research. I can share notes with you. Do you have a notepad handy?” He asks. 

“Always.” You reply smugly, pulling a pad of paper from inside of your bag. This causes an impressed smile to spread on his face as he starts gathering up his notes to show you. As soon as he’s organized, he is off. His information comes at the speed of light but you wouldn’t dare ask him to slow down. You simply keep up to the best of your ability, writing down everything you can to study at home. 

After about an hour of being inches apart while comparing notes, Egon finally sets aside his last notepad. Taking a step back towards his chair you realize that you’re actually quite sad at the loss of warmth. He reclines back, extending an arm to the couch behind you both. You sit again, now recognizing that you’re quite exhausted from the rapid fire work the two of you had been doing for a while.

“Well, I’m quite happy with how today has gone. Needless to say, the job is yours. If you’ll come in every day of the week during our normal business hours, we can get you set up with the proper equipment to continue our research.” Hearing him call it ‘our’ research made your heart flutter. “You’ll have weekends off. I can pay you minimum wage, I hope that is sufficient for your needs.” 

“That works just fine for me.” You add. 

“Good. I’m sorry it couldn’t be more. Do you have any questions?” 

“Yes. Will I ever get an opportunity to meet your colleagues or will it always be you and I working together?” 

“Oh yes, you’ll certainly meet the others. When Ray isn’t busy on jobs he usually spends time here, working in the lab. You’ll most definitely cross paths with him. As for Venkman and Winston, I’ll introduce you. Since you are a part of the team now.” Hearing him say that nearly knocked you out of your seat. You’re part of the team now. 

“Wonderful. Well, I don’t think I had any other questions.” 

“Excellent. If you do think of something don’t hesitate to give me a call. I’ll give you my number so that you can do so should you feel the need.” He stands and writes down his phone number on a slip of paper, handing it to you as you stand too. “Well, I won’t wear you out on your first day. You’re free to go but I will see you tomorrow.” 

“Yes! Definitely. See you tomorrow.” With that he leads you back to where you entered from, seeing you off as you run outside to hail a cab. On the ride back to your apartment it’s all you can do not to scream out of sheer excitement. You were finally doing it. Making your dreams come true. You were almost sure that’s all it was, a dream. However, you knew that this was your reality now. Working with the Ghostbusters, doing exactly what you’d been training your whole life for. God, you couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You slept poorly, tossing and turning with excitement all night. When your alarm finally went off you jumped out of bed without a moment of hesitation. You had already picked out your outfit the night before, slipping it on as you headed for the door. Once again you did not eat breakfast, too ecstatic to ingest anything. Once you hailed a cab you were off, headed for your new workplace yet again.  

When you headed into the Firehouse you were immediately greeted by Egon, who was standing right inside the door. As soon as he saw you he checked his watch. “You’re early. That’s excellent. With all the work we must get done, it’s important that you’re here as soon as you can be every day.” You nodded as you walked towards the lab.

“You know what they say! Early is on time, on time is late.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He adds, straightening his lab coat. “Now, I do want to prepare you. My colleagues are all waiting for us in the lab. I wanted to introduce you to all of them and catch them up to speed on our current research. They won’t be around long so don’t worry.” 

Little did Egon know you were far from worried. After years of following their work you were on the verge of meeting all of the Ghostbusters. You couldn’t wait. Yet you knew you had to stay calm. 

When you finally stepped into the lab you saw that they were all crowded around a beaker of slime which sat on a workbench, watching it curiously. None of them dared touch it until Egon had arrived. Once you both came into view all three of them perked up, exchanging happy little smiles at the sight of you. You took up residence on the other side of the workbench, trying to contain yourself. Egon stood beside you and you looked at him expectantly. 

“Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to Y/N L/N. My research assistant. I believe she’ll make a strong addition to the team.” You beamed proudly at the introduction. “Y/N, this is Winston Zeddemore, Peter Venkman, and Ray Stantz. My colleagues.” 

You extended your hand to the first one in line, Winston. He took it happily. You went down the line like that as they all shook your hand. 

“Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Miss L/N.” Ray was first to speak.

“Please, feel free to call me Y/N.” You add. 

“Well, Y/N,” Peter was next. “It is nice to meet you. Although I’m highly doubtful that you’re any kind of scientist.” 

“Peter, I’ve heavily vetted her myself. She is--” Before Egon could finish defending you, the man continued his statement. 

“I only mean that I just don’t think pretty scientists exist. I mean, take a look at this ugly mug.” He says with a laugh, pinching Egon’s cheeks in his hand. “You are far too beautiful to be a scientist.” 

You look up at the man beside you who shares an annoyed glance down at you. You would never admit it but you highly disagreed with Peter. Egon was one of the most handsome men you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d have to be blind not to notice his beautiful features. Of course the thought made you blush so you pushed it away, reengaging with Venkman. “Well, thank you but I can assure you I’m highly qualified for this work. Trust me, I can get the job done.” 

“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing just how efficient you are.” He said, giving you a little grin. You knew that he had meant something naughty by the way he’d said it so you simply chose to ignore him. 

“I for one am glad to have you on the team.” Winston added. “It’ll be nice not to be the new kid around here for once.” 

“Me too!” Ray said. “I’m excited to have you around the lab. We’ll be working together every now and again. Can’t wait to get to know you.” His response was heartfelt and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“Now that introductions are out of the way,” Egon began. “We’d like to show you what we’re working on.” He prompted Ray, who had helped to begin this research. The man moved the container of slime into the middle of the nearby work table. Everyone crowded around, including you. You were very intrigued to see what research had been conducted thus far. Egon had told you all about the slime the day before but you hadn’t gotten a chance to see it. Now you were going to get a good look at what it was really capable of. 

“Watch this. Go ahead Ray.” Egon began. 

“You! You worthless piece of slime.” Ray yells. As he does so, the slime begins to bubble. Only slightly but enough for you all to notice. “You ignorant disgusting blob!” He continues. 

“You’re nothing but an unstable short-chain molecule!” Egon adds. 

“You foul obnoxious muck.” 

“You have a weak electrochemical bond.” As the two take turns yelling at the slime it bubbles further, getting closer and closer to the top of the container. 

“I have seen some disgusting crud in my time, but you take the cake! You--” As Ray begins to get out of hand, the other three rein him back in. The sight of the young scientist getting so invested in the bubbling slime makes you giggle a bit, unable to stop yourself. 

“This is what you do with your spare time?” Peter asks. 

“Peter, this is an incredible breakthrough. I mean, what a discovery! A psycho-reactive substance. Whatever this stuff is, it responds to human emotional states.” You eye the slime, utterly fascinated.

“Mood slime.” Peter chimes in, simplifying the whole discovery down to a much more manageable but seemingly accurate term. “Oh baby.” He adds in a seductive tone as he leans down towards the container, backing away quickly when the slime bubbles again. 

“You mean this stuff actually feeds on bad vibes?” Winston asks. 

“Like a cop in a donut factory.” Ray affirms.

“We’ve been running tests to see if we can get an equally strong positive reaction.” Egon says, nodding his head at the group.

“What kind of test?” Peter asks after a brief pause. 

“Well, we sing to it, and we talk to it, and say supportive, nurturing things to it.” Ray adds with a tinge of embarrassment. 

“You’re not sleeping with it, are you, Ray?” Venkman can’t help but joke. However, as soon as he says it there is a palpable tension between Egon and Ray. The two exchange a glance and you can’t help but notice the blush that comes to Egon’s face. Winston and Peter join you in looking at Egon. That’s when you all come to the same realization at the same moment.  “Oh you.” 

“It’s always the quiet ones.” Winston says incredulously. 

“You hound!” Venkman adds, holding in a laugh. Egon quickly clears his throat and begins to get up from his seat. 

“How about the kinetic tests?” Everyone walks across the room behind him but your mind wanders to that little comment. What could that have possibly meant? After only a day of knowing Egon, you found your mind wandering to the thought of what he got up to you in those hours of the day when he was by himself. Ashamed by your dirty mind, you brush the thoughts away and join the others. 

The next set of tests are particularly impressive and give you great insight into the slime. They took a small drizzle of slime and poured it into the open end of a toaster, setting it up on the table for all to see. After blasting some Jackie Wilson the toaster begins to pop and dance, making you all laugh. Once the two are done showing off their experiments the others vacate, leaving you and Egon alone. 

“I’d like to continue my experimentation on the slime. I’d like you to help me take notes and observe for now.” He instructs. 

“Yes, of course.” You pull out your personal notepad, getting your pencil ready. He dives right in, playing other kinds of music to see what might affect the slime and in what ways. You obediently take notes of its behavior, curious to see what will get it going. 

After another hour of work, Egon excuses himself briefly which leaves you in the lab completely by yourself. You cradle the notepad to your chest, watching the slime for a brief moment. Looking around to make sure you are truly alone, you take a step closer. A thought pops into your head. Rather than waiting for Egon, you decide to test your little theory for yourself. Clearing your throat, you start to sing the song that had played over the speaker earlier. “I said your love keeps lifting me higher. Higher and higher, higher.” You croon. As you do so the toaster bubbles and pops twice as much as it did before. 

“Magnificent!” Egon exclaims. You jump back, ending the song once you know he’s there. “I didn’t expect such a reaction but I suppose it makes sense that the slime would react more strongly to a beautiful voice. I’m afraid Ray and I aren’t really singers.” He immediately begins writing things down and you look over his shoulder, seeing if you had taken the same notes. “Sing to it again. I’d love to observe.” 

Now that you have to perform on the spot you’re suddenly quite nervous. You didn’t sing anywhere but the shower so this was very nerve wracking. Especially since you had already taken such a strong liking to the man who was now beside you. You wanted to impress him. Once again you clear your throat and start singing. The reaction is immediate, the toaster jumping to life at the sound of your voice. As you sang you couldn’t help but recall that Egon said you had a beautiful voice. For some reason the compliment made you blush.

After a moment you stopped however Egon kept writing, simply murmuring to himself. “Excellent. Absolutely outstanding.” He says before turning to look at you. “You’re already making terrific contributions to the research. Thank you.” You nod your head shyly. 

“I’m just glad I can help.” You say with an earnest smile. 

“Well, I think we’ve discovered a great deal. I look forward to seeing what tomorrow has in store. You’re free to head home for the day.” He says, turning away from you to continue writing things down. 

“Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You can’t help how disappointed you feel that the day is over already. You could have stayed there in that lab with Egon for hours. However, you didn’t want to overstay your welcome so you grabbed your things and headed out the door. Once you were on the sidewalk you couldn’t help but let out a little squeal of happiness. This was everything you had hoped it would be. And more. After meeting Egon it was much better than you had even dreamed it. It was all you could do not to jump for joy but you contained yourself, hailing a cab. As great as today was, you couldn’t wait for more of this fascinating experimentation. Of course that’s not all you wanted more of but you’d never say it out loud. Heading home, you decided to get an early jump on sleeping so that the next day would come sooner. That night you dreamt of ghosts and research and science and Egon. 

Tags: @localsimpmigraine​ @theespookybitch​ @twinkie-buttercream​ @fizzyfazzy420​ @boneless07​ @holewithinahole​ @spengler-in-a-jar​ @the-hidden-pages​ @the-mechanical-angel​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @egonscalculator​ @sporesmoldsfungus​ @tedesquire​ @killerheelsonadiscodancefloor @emeraldborealis​ @bisexual-thoughtss​ @notquitecanon​ @finniestoncrane​ @lonelyridesinecto-one​ ​​@tinyvesselhearts

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐡 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: none

↳ notes: forgot how good this movie series was. going to be thinking about it quite a bit these few coming days. especially egon! favorite character by far, with winston in next place

↳ song: main title theme (ghostbusters)—elmer bernstein

masterlist | commisions | carrd

• When a flyer for a job downtown mysteriously appeared in your mailbox slot, your first thought was to throw it away

• It looked scrappy. Par on course with the rest of the junk mail companies normally delt out to catch your eye

• Still. Three days later you were standing outside a mildly reevaluated looking firehouse with the paper clutched loosely in your hand, and your best clothes on

• As you’d walked towards the doors, a man came up from behind you, uttering an apology as he nearly bumped into you

• “Hey,” He had paused, allowing you to catch a glance of his tan suit and kinky black hair. “You here for an interview, too?” He asked, walking through the large off-green door as you held it open for him

• “Sure am.”

• “Well, may the best one win. Or get the job, I suppose.” He chuckled with a lopsided grin

• "I dont think they’ll mind hiring the both of us." You eventually responded, looking up at the way the ceiling sagged with old age

• Following your line of sight, the man beside you nodded deeply, and the both of you made your way up to a reception desk with a very annoyed looking lady behind it

• That was the day both you, and who you later learned to be Winston, got the job as the newest pair of Ghostbusters

• “Meet back here tomorrow at noon.” The snappy lady with glasses had said monotonly as she thrust a set of papers at you. You were still looking in the direction that two yelping men in jumpsuits had just gone holding a machine, that it took you a second to notice

• “With the way this job is looking? No way I’m missing tomorrow.”

• Meeting your employers slash coworkers for the first time— technically second if you counted the way two of them crashed your interview mid hiring —was certainly an experience

• Only one had been prepared for both you and Winston’s first days with a handshake and slightly unbuttoned lab coat

• He had introduced himself as doctor Egon Spengler, and shook your hand with a certain rigidness to it. Still, you caught him looking at the both of you with curiosity, so you tossed him an easy upward twitch of you lips. He seemed to relax a little after that

• The other two, however, had proved to be more difficult upon meeting

• Ray Stanz and Peter Venkman were certainly a pair, with the latter sure to be the cause of later headaches, but seemed friendly anyways—if the way they slapped you on the back said anything

• “Welcome to the nerd squad.” Peter has smiled teasingly at you, immediately wrapping an arm around your shoulders and bringing you close as if he was about to tell you a secret. “Stick with me, and you’ll be kicking it with the cool kids!”

• “Is he always like this?” You asked while pushing him away

• “Regrettably.” Egon responded in a flat tone as he moved back to statistics on a chart. “Try being roommates with him in college for six years.”

• “No thanks. I think I’d rather get possessed by one of those ghosts you guys hunt.”

• “Hey, still here!”

• You fell right into place with them pretty quickly after that. Something about getting slimed by a poltergeist in Central Park really brings a group of people together. Especially if they happen to get a really good meal of Thai right after

• In the days weeks and months following your hiring, you get to learn a lot about the little team you’d been squished into

• Winston was probably the first one you befriended. Maybe because the both of you had showed up around the same time, but you found him one of the easiest to just sit down and talk to after a mission without being interrupted every two sentences. The other guys were great, but he seemed to appreciate a little peace and quiet more than what you got in the headquarters

• “Seriously— do we have to call it the headquarters?” You interrupted Peter in the middle of his rant. Sipping on a cup of coffee, you took a moment before speaking more. It really was too early for this. “I mean, come on. It makes us sound like bizzaro superhero’s. More than we already do, anyway.”

• “Personally I wouldn’t mind playing a little Bruce Wayne every now and then.” Peter grinned back suggestively. From beside you, Ego let out his equivalent of an annoyed sigh as he tinkered with stray machinery. Apparently someone else felt it was too early for Peters antics, too

• “Gag me with a spoon.” You deadpanned while swirling your mug around moodily

• “Fine fine. We can call it home base. Happy, sunshine?”

• You grumbled at his sickeningly sweet tone before delving back into your coffee, missing the way Ray and Winston shared slight smiles at the exchange

• “Now that you four are done, mind helping me with our actual jobs?”

• “Oops. Yeah. Sorry Egon.”

• “Sigh.”

[darkness-and-books]

Egon x reader incorrect quotes ~the saga continues or whatever~

Egon: banging a pen on the table out of frustration Y/N: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table? Egon: I— Egon: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

Y/N: What the hell is wrong with you? Egon: I have this weird self-esteem issue where I hate myself but still think I’m better than everyone else.

Egon: As top in this relationship, I think we should- Y/N: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me.

This could really go either way

Y/N: You know my motto: carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe coles. Egon: Seize the day, seize the night, what’s the last one? Y/N: Seize the dick.

Y/N: Stay foxy. Egon: Die lonely.

[gonzo-rella]

Headcanons: Being Married To Old Man Ray Stantz

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Relationship(s): old man!Ray Stantz x gn!also old!reader (romantic)

Warnings: Possibly inaccurate science words, because I'm a simpleton. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: Here's my first Ghostbusters thing! I've got a few other Ghostbusters fics in the works, mostly Ray-based reader-inserts because I'm in love with him, but I've also got a Phoebe-centric character study in the works that's based on part of her storyline in Frozen Empire. By the way, I loved Frozen Empire! I've already seen it three times, and it's such a joy. I'll try to catch it a couple more times at least before it leaves cinemas. Anyway, I haven't included any explicit spoilers for Frozen Empire in this, so you're safe to read this if you haven't seen it yet. I'd love to write more old man Ray Stantz fics, especially something involving Phoebe. I'm really excited to write for Ghostbusters, so feel free to send in requests! I've only seen the movies, but I plan on watching the Real Ghostbusters at some point soon. Also, even though I took my mum to see Frozen Empire the other day, I still don't have anyone to talk to about this movie, so please feel free to talk to me about it!)

It’s evident that, even after all of these years, Ray is still madly in love with you.

The adoration with which he looks at you is clear as day.

Venkman has always loved to tease you both about how sickly sweet your relationship is.

He will make fake gagging when either of you are affectionate to one another when he’s around.

(He won’t admit it, but he actually finds your relationship to be kind of cute)

It’s not like either of you are overly lovey-dovey, especially now.

Ray’s naturally a very passionate and expressive guy, but he’s rarely mushy.

Still, you show one another how much you care.

I have this idea that your silent way of saying ‘I love you’ to each other is holding the other’s hand, stroking their knuckles with your thumb and smiling at them.

It just seems so cute to have this thing that you’ve been doing for your whole relationship.

Ray knows you like the back of his hand, and you know him just the same.

It’s almost scary how well you know one another.

I can imagine that there’s been a time that someone’s asked one of you a question, and the other has been able to answer it with ease.

I love the idea of Ray being with someone who’s not a scientific mind like himself.

So, if you’re not as knowledgeable about the supernatural as Ray, you’ll still have picked up on plenty of information against your will, and Ray will always be impressed with and proud of you when you manage to regurgitate or understand his ‘science-y word salad’ (as you have referred to it).

He will also find it very attractive when you talk supernatural or science to him, but he tries not to make it obvious.

His eyes still light up like he’s a kid on Christmas when he explains supernatural stuff to you or tells you about a new psychically charged item he’s bought, and you find it so endearing.

Also, I can imagine him practically forcing you to listen to Podcast’s podcast when he discovers it, and you both end up getting really into it.

As devoted as he still is to his work and his supernatural endeavours, spending time with you is his greatest priority.

He might miss being an active Ghostbuster, but the silver lining of it is that he gets more time with you than he ever used to.

Even if you both used to be Ghostbusters, it’s nice to spend time together that doesn’t involve being covered in ghost slime and shouting over nuclear accelerators.

If you’ve not got anything else to do, I think it’d be sweet if you kept him company in his store.

Phoebe and Trevor are your honorary grandkids and you and Ray are beyond proud of them, especially Phoebe, who you’re closest to of the two of them.

Phoebe will always remind the both of you of Egon, so whenever she does something particularly Egon-like, you will exchange a knowing glance, and when she’s gone you’ll end up reminiscing about your old friend.

If Phoebe or the other Spenglers ever want to hear about Egon, you’re both more than happy to talk to them about him.

Even in his golden years, Ray is still the same sweet, passionate, excitable man you married all those years ago.

Sure, the regular excitement that came with Ghostbusting is long behind you both, but you both cherish this quieter time together just as much.

[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.

[tuliptired]

Ello! Hope Im not a bother, but i was hoping to make a one-shot request? I looked around and it looks like you are still taking requests as of the moment, very sorry if I missed something.

Anyways, if its not too much trouble, could you write Egon Spengler x Baker Y/N? I think that would be a fun dynamic!

If thats not to your liking, what about Egon x Shy Y/N?

Love your works, I check the ghostbusters tag daily to see if youve written anything new. Thank you so much, love ya have a great day and night!!!

How Sweet It Is (To be Loved by You)

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Baker!GN!Reader

It's never too much trouble...no idea if I've used this gif before

did yall hear about the SNL biopic btw oh my gahh...

Better formatting on Ao3! (italics)

Your relationship started with a cupcake. As the story goes, told lovingly by your now mutual friends, there was a bust at a retirement home, and one of the caregivers insisted on sending the boys home with a treat in addition to the hefty bill. Demanded, actually, practically shoving a metal tin full of pastry into Egon’s hands as he attempted to discreetly sneak away.

“Jackpot,” Peter leaned over, happily surprised as nimble fingers opened the lid. The smell of sugary sweets wafted through the car, prompting Winston to extend his hand to the backseat, palm soon full of muffin. Egon was patient, letting everyone take something for themselves, before finally deciding on a blue-iced chocolate cupcake, sweet tooth waiting to be satisfied.

“Where’d this come from?” Ray, Peter, and Winston stood in the kitchen, confused at the spread of different colored boxes and containers. Upon further inspection, they were full of even more cupcakes, each the same blue iced chocolate flavor. Egon sat with his hands folded on the countertop, unfazed at their reactions to his display like any true man of science would be.

He made a tick mark on a long list of names, clipboard somewhere in the organized, delicious chaos. “If you must know, I’m testing every bakery in the area to find the one I ate that evening. I’ve yet to find it.”

Ray shrugged, taking note of just how many locations he had procured food from. “Not the weirdest thing you’ve done for a result,” he admitted.

“Good food’ll do that to you,” Winston laughed, Peter reaching over to gauge how mad Egon would get if he tried to take a sample from one of his possible matches.

Egon didn’t look up, flipping to the next page. “Go ahead, those are the rejects. They'd end up in the trash, anyway.”

Peter peeled away the paper, going through the motions of ripping the bottom of the cake and placing it over the top of the frosting. “Rejects.” he parroted plainly. “What’re you gonna do when you find the right store? Stand in the window?”

He glared up at him above his glasses. “No, I’ll buy a half dozen and go on with my day,” he unfolded a wax lined box, “so if you could leave me to my research?” Research being, going down a line of cupcakes. They each exchanged glances, before filing out. Egon could be just as tenacious as everyone else, when he felt like it.

Except, that tenacity wavered in the face of unfamiliarity. The only reason Egon was willing to go in your bakery to begin with is because the others had forced him. “Don’t be a baby,” as Venkman had put it. He finally found the match, in fact he had found it a few days ago. But he took a glance at the bustling establishment on the day in which he set out on his own, and got cold feet. Especially when he accidentally locked eyes with the smiling artisan while he just stood in the window.

His friends had managed to shove him towards the counter without a second thought. The same person he’d seen through the tall window was behind the counter now, greeting them all kindly. The bandana you had used to keep your hair in check must’ve been failing to do its job, evident by the flour near your temple, caught in a few strands. Egon’s fingers twitched.

Peter flicked him on the lower back when he failed to respond like a typical customer, making Egon come-to and clear his throat. “May I get a half dozen chocolate?” he asked robotically.

“You may,” you grinned at his grammar, “but, chocolate what?”

Egon’s ability to speak stopped short at his misstep, unable to let out anything but unintelligible stammers, and Egon never stammers. “Cupcakes, please,” Ray spoke up for him, catching wind.  

You nodded, moving to the display rack to place his order in a smaller, blue box. Peter wasn’t content with how smoothly this interaction was going as he watched on with a bored expression. “Funny story, actually,” he caught your attention through the framework.

You laughed at how it made him look like he was in a horizontal jail cell. “Yeah?”

Peter raised Egon’s stiff arm for him at the elbow. “We walk in one night and catch Egon with at least 20 different cupcakes, trying to find yours ‘cause he missed it so much.” he regaled.

He may have caught you blushing. Were you blushing? He shouldn’t stare at business owners when they were just trying to work. “Well,” you started folding the corners of the parcel, “assuming you liked them- and you guys are pretty important to the city…” You held them out to him with two hands. “Just take them. No charge.”

Egon felt like there was smoke rising from the top of his head, or the espresso machine, as he shuffled out, and you leaned over the counter to call after him: “Come back anytime, for whatever! On the house!” 

The rest happened slowly, but surely, and you enjoyed it thoroughly. On an earlier morning, you and your pubescent employee were handling the typical rush you got around breakfast. Between prepping, a small burn from the oven, packing orders, ringing people up, and a quick trip to the corner-grocery for more milk, you finally had a spare minute to breathe, both hands pressing into the counter.

A blur of beige and a trail of smog put an end to your mini-relaxation, and you hurried over to the door. “Stantz! Spengler!” you beckoned before they could turn the corner.

Like children, they found their way to your storefront, though Egon looked rather apprehensive with a used trap dangling from his gloved fist. “Good morning, guys,” you urged them inside, “did you eat yet?”

“We really should get going.” Egon said after Ray greeted you. Most of the sickly smell from the trap was left outside, and it was too covered up by the scent of sugar and warmth that everyone but you swore clung to the bakery for you to worry about it driving away customers.

You ignored his protests, crossing behind the counter. “Eat in the morning or you’ll crash in the afternoon,” you started pouring two cups of hot coffee.

“There’s no need-” you interrupted with a hand. “We’re fine,” he continued anyway.

Ray’s stomach betrayed his friend’s wishes. “Something small wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Listen to your friend, Egon.” you warned, adding a bit of whipped cream to both cups to literally sweeten the deal. “You need to eat.”

He frowned, but you didn’t care much. “We have a Class lll in our hands, now is hardly the time for-” you cut him off again, stuffing his mouth with a blueberry danish. As he annoyedly chewed, you procured a paper bag from the back, wrapping his hand around the handle.

“Too bad I already packed for everyone,” you patted his knuckles when he acquiesced, catching sight of what was inside with a small smile. “You’re crabby when you’re hungry.”

Egon opened his mouth to respond, but the contraption in his left hand started beeping. Are they supposed to beep? You’d never seen them do so before. It seemed as if the two experts themselves hadn’t either. 

You stood on your toes to give him a parting kiss, Ray grabbing both paper cups in the meantime before you could start shooing them out. “Go, go- don’t let that thing loose in here. And swing by later, okay?”

He followed your lips when you pulled away, but the ominous beeping drove him to the door and down the street. You sighed to yourself, already missing him. None of the regulars in your store seemed to pay any mind to the local celebrities- or the weapons they had strapped to themselves, as Egon floated in and out during different parts of his day at least once a week.

Egon knocked on the glass door, soft light and music slipping through as he got your attention. When you let him in, the distinct whiff of cookies enveloped him like the warm temperature of your little shop. It was his favorite part of visiting you, apart from actually getting to see you. “How was today?” he spoke over the soft jazz that you apologetically turned down.

“Better,” you were about to run a Crisco covered hand through the front of your hair before you stopped yourself, “better.” Egon only then noticed how many cookies you had managed to make for having only closed an hour ago. “I have more in the oven,” you said from the back wall with the smaller front oven while you hurriedly took out a hot tray with a mitt and put a cool one in.

It wasn’t just cookies, but brownies, sweetbreads, and cinnamon rolls. “Are you…restocking?”

You laughed, a quarter manically and another quarter incredulously, and started to peel cooked pastry off of baking sheets. “If anything, we have too much stock.” you paused your fervor, frowning at your display case’s abundance. “I’ll send you home with some- give them to your clients or eat them or something.” 

You were barely done shutting the sliding glass when you popped up, clapping your hands once and frankly startling him. “Pies! I know what I need to make now! I’ll make some pies and maybe a cake and we can head home.” Before you could disappear into the kitchen, he stepped in your way, two soothing hands on your shoulders.

“You’re stress baking.” 

Egon couldn’t hide his amusement at your familiar despondent expression, as if you were coming down from a high. “Was it that obvious?”

“Somewhat,” he stroked up and down your arm, steering you to the stool you kept tucked away behind the register and pulling up a chair for himself on the other side. “What’s wrong?”

He enjoyed the chairs you had because of their structural variety, and the fact they didn’t make him feel like a giant. 

You slumped your head into your since-dried hands, groaning out of frustration. “It’s just the season, I guess. A ton of people come by, bringing their dumb boyfriends-” you paused, realizing what you said, “no offense.”

“None taken.”

“-And they come looking at our stuff to see if we’re good enough for, like, baby showers and weddings and all that.”

A car passed by on the street, definitely above the city’s speed limit for a business area. “I assume that’s a good thing?”

“It’s great,” you sat up, “we want people to pick us. But it means everything has to look great, and we have to get ready for half a million custom orders.”

That would be a partial reason for the sudden uptick in inventory, combined with the pressure to make a good first impression. But you were working so aimlessly hard that you looked crazed, all by yourself. “Your employees aren’t willing to help?” Egon questioned.

You stood, addressing the heaps of different cookies, the only creation of yours without a home. “They are. But they’re kids- I can’t work them that hard. It’s probably illegal, too. They won’t be around for the next couple of days anyway.”

He could sympathize with your plight- backed into a seasonal corner that business owners just had to get used to. “I’m sorry,” Egon offered, “I’m not as skilled in your trade, but is there anything I can do to make it easier?”

You smiled your first genuine smile since he arrived. “There is, actually,” your tone was excited as you moved to the freezer, “just let me finish these and I’ll fill you in.”

Egon would’ve stopped you from continuing to try to work, but he relaxed when you brought out pre-prepared bags of icing and miscellaneous confectionaries, knowing that decoration was the more relaxing aspect of the art. 

He both sat in comfortable quiet as you put all your focus into icing, piping, and arranging.  It was pleasant, knowing that you had something so ardent that you cared so deeply about, even if it was dismissed as a mere hobby while you were close to collapsing to exhaustion in the bakery you financed on your own. It was a mix of career and craft- one of the many reasons he had grown to give you his utmost respect.

You were eventually done, making the task of embellishing countless treats look effortless. You handed him a cookie, which he gladly took. “I need you to be honest,” you counted on his affinity for sweets. He took a bite, surveying the dessert after the initial pleasure your baking always brought him.

“Raspberry compote,” Egon took a second, “and coffee icing.”

“Good job!” you scribbled something down on a spare slip of paper after springing the register drawer open. “Rating?”

“10/10”

“Honest.”

“That is my honesty. But if you wanted the unweighted scale, 7/10. The two flavors balance each other very well.”

You passed him another, which he promptly ate without being asked to. “On the crumbly side. Is that intentional?”

A nod. “A little less butter than usual. Old ladies tend to like those.”

He put a hand on his chin contemplatively. “6/10- marmalade. A softer version would get a higher placement, it would be a shame to lose interest from those who don’t fit the demographic.”

You copied down what he said, seemingly happy with any sort of feedback. “And here I thought I’d have to help you cross the street.”

The night went on like that for a while, and Egon grinned to himself at the parallels he had only just noticed- another mix of career and craft, now inquiry and indulgence. You looked like a proper scientist- or, a food scientist, scrawling down notes and numbers that he’s sure only you would be able to decode. He felt the corners of his face dimple in a familiar smile while he watched you- something he’d found himself doing much, much more.

“What?” you raised an eyebrow, suspicious of his joy.

“Nothing,” Egon excused himself, “you just look incredibly nice.”

 You squeezed the hand that he rested on the counter, silently appreciative. “Thanks- for that, and for helping me out. Let me get you home before you barf.”

He’d learned to live with the indecencies, helping you tidy up the best he could without breaching the system of organization you had. When you returned from the back with your personal things, he let you loop your arm around his for the semi-short journey home.

Egon only let you go so you could lock the door, and he stared at your back for the entire time that you did. “If I were having a baby shower, I’d come here.”

There were practically stars in your eyes. “Really?” 

“Really.” You planted a gratuitous kiss to the side of his face, before setting off towards his apartment.

Over the course of a few days, your boyfriend showed up earlier in order to take you into work, and keep you company as you tried to quell the impending anxiety. When regulars faded out and new faces came in- possible clients, you assured him with a non convincing tone that he had a job, too. If your ego was bigger, you’d be bragging about the compliments and inquiries your store got, not to mention the referrals to friends regarding special upcoming events. But, entrepreneurship had taught you to be humble, so you were resigned to spilling it all over a phone call to the firehouse.

One morning, you forced Egon out before anyone could arrive, asserting that he had a day off and he should find a way to relax. He asserted that this was how he relaxed, but you had a key to the front door and he didn’t, so that solved that. 

Not long after he was gone, you were hastily punching his number in, bouncing on your heels and out of breath.

“Hello?"

“Rich girl- eloping- needs a wedding cake- lots of money,” you forced out like you were out of air, already seeing dollar signs in tandem with the minutes you were losing. “But I have a crazy favor to ask.”

Very soon, “OPEN” was flipped to “CLOSED (sorry)” and you put on your serious business apron. Egon stood behind you, unsure of what to do as you jumped from here to there, double checking that you had absolutely everything you needed.

You only stopped when you realized that he wasn’t in the proper attire. “C’mon, Spengler,” you chastised him while cinching the strings of a smock around his waist.

“Game plan,” you led him to the back where all the industrial sized equipment was, “three tiers, green and pink, white cake. She gave me creative freedom, so I’m kinda flying blind.”

Egon’s eyes were on you as you laid out a few large bowls. “Have you ever…made a wedding cake on such short notice? I assumed they take days.”

“They do! And they’re the one thing I swore to never sell!” He looked disappointed in you, but you weren’t fazed, grabbing both of his hands. “$1,500,” Egon’s eyes widen as you continued, “think of what that could buy.”

He pushed up the bridge of his glasses like a flustered schoolboy. “That’s…a lot of copper wiring.”

“So many new mixers! And without the down payment! That’s why we need to start while we already have the time.”

Realistically, it was more of you starting everything while Egon was subjected to measuring or throwing away eggshells. But, you eventually gave him bigger responsibilities, as there was no way you’d be done in time for the impromptu-wedding if you worked one-by-one. 

You turned from what you were doing after instructing him to mix the batter for the top layer, being met with his bare forearms, dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“What?” Egon noticed your commotion halting. “Am I overmixing?” 

You didn’t answer, still staring at his toned arms. He should help out more often- your stand mixer cutting out on you must’ve been a blessing in disguise. Your blatant ogling was cut short when he stopped his ministrations, resting the whisk against the lip of the bowl.

“Don’t get distracted.” He tried to sound condemnatory, but it was hard to feel scolded when the scholar had on one of your teenaged employee’s spare pink bibs around his front and he was almost bent over the edge of the counter space in the midst of his focus.

You could breathe a little easier when the timer went off for the tiniest layer’s completion in the biggest oven. You took the searing pan out carefully, and your worry spiked again when you saw how dark the unfrosted dessert was along the top. You went through a list of things that might’ve gone wrong-  was the oven at the right temperature? Setting? You definitely let it bake for the right time. It wasn’t until you saw a pair of little cylinders, tucked away in the havoc, that you put two and two together.

“Which one of these did you use?”

Egon looked like a mix of confused and concerned. “This one, baking soda.”

That’s how he got put out your kitchen for a considerable amount of time, until he knocked at the round window separating you both.

“Are you sorry?”

A pause. “Not anymore than I was 20 minutes ago.”

“I’m locking the door.”

He was allowed back in after a long and rehearsed apology. Soon, all tiers were baked, except for the base, and you were aching all over. The whole cake process never got any less demanding on you.

Egon must’ve seen how you stretched your arm across your chest before you tried to continue on anything. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“I’ll be fine- just sore.” you answered truthfully, before slightly jumping at the feeling of hands wrapping around your middle.

“Take a break,” he herded you to a folding chair you kept in there- the only chair. You were slotted in between his knees, thoroughly confused. He only got like this every blue moon.

It did feel great to be off your feet for a second, despite your cushy sneakers. “What’re you getting at?” 

His strong hands made work of your tense biceps. “Nothing lascivious. I just think you should save your energy for the important part,” you stifled a noise at his doctoral tone and the way his thumbs kneaded at the space in between your shoulder blades, “and you’ve been working very hard.”

“Baking makes you a freak,” you scoffed, but hedonistically let him continue to dote on you.

Soon it was time to keep moving, attractive masseuse or otherwise. You put Egon in charge of coloring the buttercream while you ran out to the store for the second time in only a few days, making a mental note to use some of the bride-to-be’s payment to keep a consistent supply of the little things.

When you returned, though, it wasn’t as you had expected. You picked up the metal bowl full of neon icing incredulously. “I said green, not snot!”

“I made green,” he didn’t budge, not seeing how gaudy this would look in the middle of a reception hall.

You pushed a finger in between his brows. “You’re such a guy,” you remarked, regardless of your own gender, as you hassled him out of the way. “Watch.” 

With a bit of red, the bright green dulled into a paler color, fit for a wedding. “Can I trust you with pink?” you asked as if he was a child.

Egon’s expression was unreadable. “No promises.”

Half of the green was shoveled into piping bags when he was finished, presenting the baby pink mixture to you like a project would be presented to a teacher. “That’s better,” you started, taking the bowl while he kept the spatula. You’d assumed that Egon was going to wash it or scrape off the excess or something, but your eyes squeezed shut as something cold and tacky hit your nose.

Frosting, pink frosting. His audacity. You took the green spatula, getting him back on the cheek. That led to him getting you back on the forehead, ear, chin, and eventually some strays ended up in the corner of your mouth, which he was more than happy to take care of. Baking really made him a freak, you thought. You probably shouldn’t be kissing over someone’s wedding memorabilia, but you shortly noticed that was the icing for each tier and its decoration. You lost an hour cleaning and starting from scratch on the buttercream, steering clear of each other in a respective corner each.

You had another hour to eat a late dinner while each tier chilled in the freezer, setting the white icing you painstakingly leveled to their surface area. When you returned, it was time for the assembly, the second most dreaded process. “I’m scared,” you confessed, just about to push down the first dowel.

Egon got eye level with the top, squinting. “You’re just about perfect.”

Your nerves got the better of you. “How can you tell?” 

“I calculated.”

He was to keep calculating until all three cakes were secure on each other, bringing on the actually grueling part: decoration. You could design anything easily, after years of practice on your skills and ability to freehand- but a wedding cake was just so intimidating. That was part of the reason you vowed to never try again, how easy failure was staring you down in the form of little white fondant flowers. Egon let you take the reins on this, disappearing from your narrow field of vision. You honed in your knowledge of swirls, mini roses, and the drape style that was still in fashion among traditional couples. You were bent in all sorts of ways to make sure every bit of sugar that left the tip of the plastic bag came out perfect, for a perfect pair of newlyweds. Or newlyweds with perfect pocketbooks.

Time got away from you when the final detail was placed, and you stepped away like it was a bomb. “Is it done? Are we done?” you looked for confirmation. “How does it look?”

Egon’s torso stopped you from running off somewhere. “It looks perfect.”

The giant thing was stowed away to wait until you were scheduled to drop it off the next morning, and a weight was taken off your chest. You let the faucet run over materials, mind somewhere else with the rush of running water.

“It’s so sweet when it’s all done,” you spoke up, scrubbing crusted batter off of a tin, “weddings feel so magical.” 

You thought back to the agreement you made with your boyfriend of a handful of years: nix a big ceremony, celebrate with friends when the time felt right. The time always felt right to you; you’d drag him to the courthouse at the drop of a hat. Perhaps there was an even right-er time out there, written somewhere in your future.

Egon wiped down all the surfaces. “I agree.” he voiced from across the counter, taking a pause. “You’re not…angry with me? For taking as long as I am?”

You laughed at that, drying your hands. You crossed over to him, a hand on his chest. “Not at all. I trust you.” He had ditched the tie at some point after you had to make a new batch of icing. “If you’re offering…”

“Give me some more time to make it special.”

You brushed away some of his hair that had come loose in the heat of your scullery. “How much more time?” your voice was soft.

Egon thought about it for a moment. “What’s 5 more years?” He laughed heartily at the groan you let out, resting his head on yours.

“Really?” your voice broke over the phone. “I’m sorry…I’ve never- I don’t know,” you forced yourself to take a shallow breath, “I’ll work on getting your deposit back.”

You didn’t know what to think or feel when you ended the call, but thoughts of wasted hours, materials, lost profit, all flooded your mind as you attempted to calm yourself. You rested your head underneath where the phone was mounted on the wall, rubbing at your temples to sedate an oncoming headache.

“What happened?” Egon asked at your back, with you again in the early morning as he scored another day off. You didn’t turn to face him, trying your best to blink back embarrassing tears.

“She canceled. We made the cake for nothing- there’s no wedding, I-” 

Egon was on a knee, in the middle of your homely bakery. Your frustration evolved into pure confusion. “What’re you-”

There was a blue, velvet box in his hands with a glinting band inside of it. Before he could get a word out, you were on the floor too, tears free flowing. “You can’t do this now,” you clutched the fabric of his pants when he moved to hold you. “I look horrible.”

His free hand dried your tears, though more would keep on appearing in their wake. “I’m sorry this is so overdue.”

Your hands gently held onto his jaw to know this was real. “When was the right time?” 

“A long, long time ago. I just needed to find a way to make it special.” He looked hesitant before continuing, “I hope you don’t mind having made your own wedding cake.”

You blinked. “You’re the worst!” you joked exasperatedly, falling with him into a hug on the floors you were happy you mopped. “That was all you?”

“Why do you suppose her down payment was a multiple of 18?”

“They didn’t.” 

“Consider it a group gift, I suppose.” Egon smiled underneath you. You sat in the giddy silence of two people, soon to be wed, when he gingerly asked the question

“Will you?”

Your boyfriend- fiancé, went through so much trouble to make the moment one you could look back on happily. Who could refuse?

“I will.”