#ghostbusters fanfics

[multifandomfanficss]

Never Listen To Venkman

Egon Spengler x Reader

(With platonic!Peter Venkman)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did Winston still go?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

“Do you need help?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This conversation.” You fiddle with your fingers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is that stuff?” You ask.

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

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

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

“You should try touching it.” Peter suggests.

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

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

“What do you mean accidentally?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No!” You gasp between sobs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.” He smiles, turning around.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you need pressure?” He asks.

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

[ghostbustting]

hihi, i love your writings! can i get a 80 slash fic where it's around halloween time and the reader was force to attend a party with her friends. Slash notices reader and how hot her costume is. ( a bit modest version of the playboy bunny outfit ) Slash is cocky but the reader doesn't know who the hell he is but after a few drinks...they are upstairs doing the devils tango. 😈

Idk why this took me so long yet so effortless, but october seems to be the perfect month to post it 🙌

♯ ; “𝑩𝑬𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑼𝑵𝑵𝒀„ ༘⋆

Saul "Slash” Hudson x Fem!Reader.

Contains SMUT ; p in v, squirting, dirty talk (?),

oral (f receiving).

The smell of booze and sweats fill my senses, I guess you can already imagine how terrible it is. I can't even remember when did I ever agree to step a single toe into this god awfully packed Halloween party? At this point, I'd rather go trick or treat instead around the neighborhood and receive some sweets by the end of the night.

The whole night I made it my quest to try and stick close to my friends, following them, a similar sight to how dogs would follow their owners around. It was never my desire to attend this party anyways, wasn't quite of a party person at the first place, let alone a Halloween party where I have to dress up in costumes and shit. Yet my friends were quite hard to resist, forcing me to come with them to this party.

So here I am, standing at the corner of this unknown loaded house in my terrible attempt of a Playboy Bunny costume, buying my costume from the nearest store available just a day before the party, despite the cheap fabric making it look like I only put on a black swimsuit and a bunny ears bandana. It was quite revealing, I could feel eyes on me as I walk around, but who the fuck cares?

My friends were long gone from my sight, last thing I seen from them was when they were dirty dancing around some dudes. Unfortunately, I was no fan of that activity, leaving me to just stand in the corner of the party like an absolute outcast. I didn't mind. I had my cup of drink and that was enough to keep me occupied till my friends are ready to take me back home.

News flash, they never did take me home.

In fact, I have completely lose sights of every single one of them. Those little fuckers dragged me here and literally left me to rot between all of these party animals when I could've had a movie night back in my place. What a waste of a Halloween night. Isn't it?

I crush up the empty red plastic cup in my grasp and swiftly threw it away into the trash can, which everyone seems to be oblivious of, judging from all the empty plastic cups laying around on the floor, ready to cause someone to trip and fall.

However, the still fueled up plastic cups set on the table have managed to catch my attention yet again as I find myself making my way back to that table and seeking another cup of drink, which makes this my... third drink..?

My mind shrugs off the forgotten count of drinks as I spot one particular cup with more liquid filled inside besides the other cups. A grin on my lips, my arm stretches and my hand reached out for the cup.

Only to be met by another hand.

A big calloused hand that belonged to a man I couldn't place who or where I would recognize him from.

My eyes trailed from his hand that was lightly touching my own, up to his face, which was mostly covered by those voluminous curls of his hair, a hat sitting perfectly still on top of those curls. Behind those curls, were eyes that peeks through his own strands of hair with a gaze that met mine almost instantly. Almost as if he was inspecting me just like the way I seem like I was inspecting him.

"This cup's taken, sweetheart." He spoke to me, his voice causing a rather odd and unfamiliar tingling feeling in my stomach.

Only then did I realize how warm the feeling of his skin was against my cold one, his voice able to mute out the loud rock music that has been blaring through the speakers all evening as he say, “Or should I say.. Bunny.” This time, he ends his words with a chuckle, eyes trailing up and down my costume.

I raise my eyebrow at him and reluctantly let go of the cup from my hand, “Whatever.” I muttered before taking a different cup displayed on the table, yet somehow still feeling the gaze of those eyes that belonged to him on the side of my head, gaze so strong that he was practically burning a hole right through me. Just as I turn to him again with a sip of the drink, it was proven that he was indeed still gazing over me.

A sigh left my lips from the liquid that cleared my throat, my hip carefully leaning against the table while I listen as words seem to leave him yet again, “No company, Miss Bunny?” He ask, his hand reaching up to deliver the cup to his lip, I watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallow the liquid.

”My friends are here, but they… well, they found other companies.” I shrugged.

I hear him click his tongue and shake his head, “And let you isolate yourself over there in the corner? Sounds like a bunch of fakers to me.” He scoffed, a small smirk playing devilishly on those lips he owned on his face.

”No, no..” I shake my head with a small chuckle, “I didn’t want to attend this party at first anyways, so—”

”Well, why the fucking hell not?!” He threw his arms up, the liquid spilling from his red cup just a little, “With a costume as sexy as this, I surely thought you’d be much more of a party animal.” WIth each words he spoke, I can feel more and more the way his gaze seems to caress the skin of my body up and down. It was rather odd… it made me feel a certain feeling in my heart that made it beat faster, my thighs clenching just a little. Or was it just the effect of the drink? I couldn’t even figure it out before he spoke yet again.

A step was taken from his shoe, his body moving closer to my own, “How ‘bout I show you the real fun of the party? Some talking, dancing, more drinking maybe?” The mysterious man suggested, that same smirk on his face, “I’ll keep it appropriate. I promise, Miss Bunny.” He spoke almost in a teasing way that I was quite confident this night wouldn’t end up in such an appropriate ending anyways.

”Fine then, rockstar looking guy.”

The moment I let my decission slip out, the moment names were shared, and the moment my third drink became my fifth, time seems to fly in a way that is quicker than ever. Each joy of a party that the guy— Slash showed me became a comfort I found building up in me around him. My still somewhat sober part of a brain tried desperately to comprehend whether this feeling is caused by the alcohol in my system or just purely by the fact this man is so mesmerizing. Perhaps even both of those.

The more information I learn about him, the more I feel a magnetic sort of pull towards him, I just hope my pupils aren’t heart-shaped at this very moment. As time passes by, it feels as if I’ve known him for decades and decades already, in knowledge of small details of his very own life. HIs famous band, Guns ‘N Roses, his love for snakes, his guitar skills.. Can he be any more interesting?

Touches were shared here and there, especially when we joined the people dancing around to the music. His large warm palm on my waist was a touch that have been spiritually tattoed onto my skin, a touch to think back every now and then about the strange and mysterious— yet charming stranger I met at the Halloween party.

I mean, honestly, I didn’t know how it all ended up this way.

However, my half sober guess was a 100% correct guess as the first moment we were just dancing and drinking innocently, the second moment we were in some random bedroom, the third moment.. I'm on top of his body, stradling his naked lap as I bounce up and down his large cock, moans pulled out of my lips like a dirty prayer. His hands were yet again placed on both of my waist as he help me bounce up and down, the tip of his cock that was already slick from my saliva moving smoothly in and out of my hole.

”Oh god, yes!”

I gasped, my head thrown back as dirty moans cannot stop pouring from my lips which were smiling widely from ecstasy. Looking down, my eyes lands on the ripped stockings I wore and the way his cock slipped in and out of my dripping cunt, not to mention the way one of his hands have moved to use his thumb on my clit, rubbing harsh circles.

The bastard was smirking back up at me, small grunts leaving his lips as he buck his hips up to me every here and there, “Shit— How are you so fucking tight?” He chuckled breathlessly through his grunts, the circles he rubbed over my clit became more urgent while his hold on my waist tightens to the point it might leave a mark.

My mind was clouded, I couldn't think of another thing other than how good his cock filled me up, fitting just perfectly inside of me as if his cock was made specially for my cunt.

Eventually, my body fell ontop of him as my body became weak, limp with his cock still burried deep inside of me. Slash didn't let that stop his fun though as he suddenly flipped our position, positioning me on my stomach on the bed while he took his position behind me, hand on my hip and the other on his member.

"Gonna fuck this pussy so hard.." He grunted as he finally pushed his head through my folds, pushing a lewd moan out of my throat, "You like that, mm? Such a good bunny, aren't you?" He laughed, his hand coming down to smack across my ass.

The sting that lingered on from his palm caused me to gasp loudly, eyes rolled to the back of my head till they were shut tight with my face pressed into the pillow, "Fuck! Please.." I cried out as he thrusted in and out of me with a pace of no mercy, no resistance, hips snapping back and forth as sounds of skins slapping fills the room.

His arms slowly trail to wrap around my stomach, as if they were snakes lurking around me and ready to feast on me. I feel him placing his weight on me, chest on my back while he press his lips onto my ear, "Gonna fuck you dumb. Now you can be a real fucking rabbit."

Those were the last things I managed to hear before I feel him thrusting in and out of me again. Hard. And fast. I could hardly utter out a letter as my words were taken away by each pump. He was fucking me like rabbits would, humping like rabbits do. It was rough. It was dirty. And I loved every single second of it.

I can feel the veiny skin of his cock dragged in and out of my walls, the tip hitting every single spot that made the pressure bunch up even more in my stomach which only increased when he tightened his arms around it. Nasty moans left my lips, so loud that it eventually turned to lewd screams, eyes rolled to the back of my head.

"S-shit!" I gasped, "More, more.." My words came out in a desperate pant of lust, my ass trying to grind back against him.

Yet another breathless laugh escaped him, "Dirty slut.." He spat, one of his hands trailing up to slip two digits of his fingers past my lips, to which I instantly sucked on like— as he worded, an asbolute dirty slut. Humming around his digit and swirling my tongue around them, I feel him twitching right inside me.

Yet somehow, he never ever changed his pace, staying determined on that rough and deadly pace that made me feel like I'm on cloud nine.

I pull my face away from his fingers as I gasped out, "Close.. I'm so close.." My hand flew to his arm as I hold it tightly, needing something to hold on before I could pass out right on his devil of a cock. "Please.. finish me.." As much as I hate hearing myself and admitting it, I sounded the whiniest I've ever been, underneath him, begging him to give me the best orgasm I ever had.

"You're fucking crazy if you think I wouldn't.." He grunted, fingers digging into the soft skin of my waist as he finally starts slowing his pace, obviously just as close as I was, at the same time he reached down to my sensitive clit, rubbing those same harsh circles he did earlier.

It didn't take long enough before I let out the loudest moan I did tonight right as the fluids of my cum came squirting out of my cunt, "Oh fuck! Fuck!" I gasped, never once experiencing an orgasm like this. Eventually, I feel his own thick cream filling me up till I'm full of him, his voice groaning right in my eyes, something I wish I could listen to every sinful night I went through.

As soon as we finished, Slash pulled out of me and pulled my hips up so my ass was in the air. Being in my fucked up stance, I didn't know what was going to happen till I feel his warm tongue lapping our mixed cum that was oozing out of my folds, eating it out like he was starving man.

My throat was way too tired to even be loud anymore, only letting out a quiet and strangled moan as he finished, hopping onto the spot on the bed right next to me, a wide devilish smirk already on his glistening lips that was soon attatched to mine, my tongue tasting both of us with a grin building in my own face.

I feel him reach for my bunny ears and took it off me. Only when we pull apart that I noticed he have put the bunny ears on himself and place his own hat on my head.

"You look stupid."

He laughed at my statement while one of his thumbs ran over my ruined and smudged make up. "You still look sexy, bunny."

Well damn it, I guess I love Halloween.

[finniestoncrane]

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

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

Experimental Methods

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

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

"Talk?"

"Mhm."

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How romantic."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Does that factual statement require this much questioning?"

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

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

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

"Abrupt. Formal. Disinterested?"

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

"And yet you find those attributes appealing."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hm."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And what might these symptoms be?"

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

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

"I need a what?"

"In layman's terms, an exorcism."

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

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

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

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

"Ahem... he sounds, delightful."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We have a list?"

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

"Now we do."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hardly! In fact..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

[toriisasimp]

Feeling Better?

An Egon Spengler x fem!reader One Shot

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

<3

[tuliptired]

could you possibly write an Egon Spengler / female reader love triangle fic! With a lot of jealousy on Econ’s part? I love your Egon fics!

I Wish That I Had Jessie's Girl

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minor violence and being not so nice to a lady (its not Egon dw)

its been a minute...wtf yall know about plumbing???

better formatting on Ao3!

You put the phone down dreamily, smiling to yourself as Janine clung to your shoulders, having listened intently to your call. It was Duke, a friend staying with your neighbor. You had taken to talking one morning, you let it slip about your place of employment, and soon enough the boys were ridding his boiler of a spirit. He would call you during work hours, simple things like asking if you made it in ok, if you had dinner waiting- things that didn’t warrant calling a ghost hotline, but he was so sweet that you couldn’t resist. He had the cutest accent you’d ever heard, and not to mention the pure charisma he exuded with sandy hair and tanned skin. You sighed, leaning on your hand as you remembered him saying he “just wanted to talk to the sweet girl on the other end.”

Before you could indulge in your debriefing with your friend, the garage opened, and outpoured four men in brown. It didn’t take a genius to guess what they missed, brains filling in the blanks as Janine shook you around and you both giggled like highschoolers. 

“That line is for work calls,” Peter scolded you lightly, picking up the phone and inspecting it. Janine rolled her eyes, going back to whatever was on her computer and you looked down at your paperwork, a little embarrassed.

“You don’t get it,” Janine typed fast. The men groaned, as Peter fell into Ray’s arms dramatically.

“Oh, I get it.” He did his best at mocking your voice. “Oh, Duke, run away with me into the sunset!” Ray played along, doing a worse impression of you as your face burned from the teasing. “Duke- let’s go horseback riding on the beach!” 

Winston joined in, sounding like a belle. “Run up the phone bill, Duke!” 

As you tried to speak up to put an end to the symphony of phony-you, Peter interrupted you. “Duke, I haven’t had a real date in months- of course I’ll marry- ow!” He rubbed his forehead, eyes flickering from the spot he was struck and the golf pencil clattering to the floor. Soon, the other two men were pelted as well, covering their faces as you tossed writing utensils like rice.

You placed the container down. “It’s not my fault if he’s a romantic,” you defended yourself, straightening your clothes. Ray and Winston raised unbelieving eyebrows at you, bending over to pick up the mess. 

Ray stood with a small handful, unbending at the waist. “Just don’t know why you’re so obsessed with him, that’s all.” He had the cadence of a worried older brother, which made you uncross your arms. 

Janine leaned in to you. “Knows guitar. Beautiful brown eyes. A little dumb.”

You nodded. “A cute smile.” 

“So tall!”

“Deep voice.”

“Southern voice!” 

Ray looked offended then, placing a hand on his heart. “I’m southern! What makes him so special?”

Janine pushed her glasses up with her ring finger, crystal chain swinging as she did. “Kansas doesn’t count.”

“Well, excuse me if I’m not as good as Mr. Baywatch,” he stood with his hands on his hips.

Winston looked at something over your shoulder. “What do you think, Egon?” That’s what you were forgetting- you mentally cursed yourself for foregoing the quiet man as he started up the stairs. He paused, looking over the banister. 

He was silent, mouth opening but words hesitant. “I wouldn’t be tripping over myself for a plumber.” The rest of the men erupted in laughter, Janine telling them off, swatting at them as she said that they were just old and bitter. Your head fell into your hands, mind spiraling with ways you’ll get them to let it go.

You sat behind your desk, sipping on the coffee Egon had brought you. Just the right kind from just the right shop- in exchange for your help in the lab. The liquid warmed your insides as he watched you, waiting for a verdict. 

You put the paper cup down. “It’s the right kind,” you admitted. He didn’t budge. “ Thank you , Egon.” He was satiated, as the door opened and you turned your attention away. It was Duke, the sudden appearance making you jump, quick to fix your hair and tug on the hem of your shirt. He was all smiles, sauntering up to you with a few things in hand. Egon looked unamused, making a small amount of space for the man.

“You have another ghost?” You beamed up and him, nervous in the air of the spontaneous visit.

He laughed, voice rich like honey. “Hey, sweet girl- I can’t see you?” You shook your head light heartedly, subconsciously leaning forward in your seat. He held up what was in his arms. “Brought you something.” a little coffee cup with a yellow sleeve, and a thin batch of flowers. “You didn’t already have, right?” He hesitated before he put the cup onto the wood. Your eyes widened a bit, as he hadn’t noticed the forgotten favor from Egon that you quickly placed in a short, open drawer space underneath the actual table top. You felt bad, doing it in front of your friend, but he’d just have to understand, right? 

“Not at all,” you assured him. “Thank you, so much. You didn’t have to.” You brought the drink to your lips, taken aback by the taste. This was the kind you hated. From the place you made a point not to visit. You smiled weakly, taking the flowers in your hands. Pre-cut flowers, destined to die in a week.

He grinned back at you, before something flashed behind his eyes. “Before I forget- the bathroom pipes in your walls? The ones running through your bedroom? They’re sounding a little shaky, you might wanna get them looked at.” He leaned a hand against your desk, the other in his back pocket.

You heard a small snort that didn’t come from either you or the man trying to court you. You nodded, once. “Thanks. If my apartment floods with toilet water I’ll know who to call.” Duke looked around at your workplace, either impressed or concerned as he craned his neck towards the ceiling.

He let out a low whistle. “This place has to be at least half a century old.”

“Octogenarian.” Egon spoke up, evading your gaze as he stared down the other male. 

“No kidding,” Duke stilled, before looking around again. You cleared your throat, placing a hand over his.

“Thank you, again. I don’t know anyone who’d go out of their way like this for me.” You locked eyes for a minute, just smiling at each other before Egon interrupted, again.

He started toward the lab. “The samples are ready.” You sighed out your nose, remembering how these were the ones you were particularly excited to look at under the microscope. 

You patted his hand apologetically, before getting up as Egon disappeared into the firehouse. “Duty calls. I’ll see you later?” Duke looked a little disappointed, but he agreed nonetheless.

“Later,” he gave your hand a squeeze as he strolled towards the exit. 

Egon had a few slides set up, as well as seedlings and sprouted plants off to the side when you arrived. You sat in your designated wheely, short-backed chair, silent and a hefty amount of awkward as he messed with something behind you.

“He got the wrong coffee.”

“I know.”

“And you hate store bought flowers. He tried to charm you by offering to fix your pipes.”

“I know. ” You swiveled around to face him, self-conscious as you remembered the fact that Egon was standing there for the entire ordeal.

You closed your eyes as you put your hands out. “Look. Everybody makes mistakes. So what if I’ve mentioned it to him a few times.” Egon ceased what he was doing and gave you a single look as you slumped back in defeat. “Just drop it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he turned the microscope’s light on, “now, these are samples of Platanthera ciliaris grown with ectoplasm, rather than cut prematurely with store bought fertilizers-” You cut him off with a light punch to the arm. He slid the scope in front of you. As you put your eye to the lens, your mind blanked upon looking down at blurry shapes and colors. This part always got you. 

“How do you…” You gestured to the knobs on either side without raising your head. He was quiet before placing light fingers on your right hand, guiding the knob forward, your skin prickling at the touch. Nothing changed as he retracted his hands.

“It’s still not…” You were about to sit back, to let him try it himself, when there was something in your way as wheels screeched across hard floors. A warm body, a respectable distance behind   your own, and warm hands encompassing yours. He silently guided the knob again, back and forth until the slide was clear.

You hoped he couldn’t feel your heart through your clothes as you swallowed. “That’s- good. I can see.” Your breath was taken away at the sight underneath you, yellow and orange and green cells as far as the slide went. Little square boxes, reminiscent of sliced citrus fruit sitting in the long tendrils of the plant. With the ectoplasm, their cell walls grew thick, and seemed to breathe, coiling and writhing. Before Egon could back away, you voiced your awe.

“It’s beautiful,” you said honestly. He stayed where he was.

A beat or two of silence, but he spoke eventually. “I know. It did wonders for their growth. It makes me think, what could this mean for human development?”

You watched on as the cells seemed to twitch, reminiscent of an animal stretching itself. “Living, retentive material on a living, thinking human being? Is that ethical?”

He didn’t say anything as he raised the brightness for you. “I’m unsure.”

You could see even better now, the remaining bits of dirt clear on the root of the flower. “Venkman could help.”

“Perhaps he could.” 

It was comforting, the way he was close to you. Undoubtedly, he was in a bit of an awkward position- his lower body was rolled away from the small of your back. But it was almost funny the way he nearly let all of his weight rest on you, while barely touching you at all. The scientist didn’t go out of his way to touch people, and when he did it was stiff and rigid. But he was languid now, deep breaths in tandem with yours as you reveled in the quiet. He started going out of his way for you very far into your employment, and your coworkers swiftly teased you both for it in the privacy of a room the other wasn’t occupying. He let you have the good chair, he brought you the good coffee. He let you watch on and talk endlessly while he worked, something that the other men didn’t have the privilege of. He listened to you divulge him in a topic he never previously cared for, as you ate all of his food. So to be touched, as brazenly as this, was simultaneously surprising and expected. He was your friend. But he was Egon, so his pelvis would stay out of contact with your body as he leaned forward onto you.

But the presence was lost, as the scrape of wheels against the ground made you raise your head, a bit disappointed. He had a little slide in hand, with another flower. It was your favorite, marked “ectoplasmic”, incased in clear material. He had the ghost of a guilty smile as you took it from him, marveling at the new color created. 

You managed to glow so hard you nearly felt your cheeks ache. “You’re spoiling me.”

Janine was bored, taken to filing your nails to match her own in the middle of the slow day. The compact radio on your side of the desk went on, playing your station of preference as you let her work on you. She stops filing, blowing the dust off the edge.

She eyes you for a moment, before going back to your hands. You narrow your eyes as she keeps her head down. “What? What was that for?”

“Your aura is all outta whack.”

You frown. “Well then, I apologize for my ‘aura’.” Janine wasn’t pleased, cocking one eyebrow as she dragged the file back and forth. 

She sits up a little straighter, bringing your hand up to her eye. “This is bad. I’ve only seen something like this in my sister.”

You sneak a look down at your nails. “Your boy-crazy sister?”

“I’m telling you- this is bad.” Janine drops the file, holding your hand. “And I can tell what’s happening.” She takes a pause, as if her next words will hurt coming out. “You’re in love.”

“Alright, you got me,” you pull your hands back, surrendering sarcastically. The little woman grabs them again, insistent.

“So you’re not in love with Duke?”

“I mean-”

“So you’re stuck between two lovers?” 

Taking your hands back again, you roll away from her, eyes widening and voice reaching a ditzy pitch. “I am not in love with Egon!”

She has an expression reminiscent of a psychiatrist as the light catches in her glasses. “Honey. I never mentioned Egon.”

You freeze. Without thinking, you rise from your chair, only to be pulled back down. “You’re just confusing me,” you protest.

She cages you into the receptionist booth. “The only thing confused is your heart. You’re stuck between two guys and now you have to choose one.” You scoff, crossing your arms. She keeps on, voice lowering a bit as if she remembers the men upstairs.

“I see it, we all see it. Except the two eggheads,” she flicks you between the eyebrows with manicured nails. “Friends and coworkers don’t do what you do.”

The spot on your face stung. “I’m telling you, he’s just my friend,” you almost pleaded.

Janine’s eyes nearly rolled off her face. “Of course. He lets you bother him all day because you’re friends? He’d lay himself out on the ground for you to walk on if you asked. You just don’t think he would because you’re too scared to lose him if you make assumptions.” She presses a finger to your chest. “But you should’ve seen the two of you the other day.”

Your blood runs just short of icy. “You were there?”

“Egon does not touch people. And there you were, this 6ft scientist hanging off of your back like a koala.” She smirks to herself as she lets up, rolling back to her spot and starting to work on her own nails as you sit there, stunned. “You like the big-weird-doctor,” her voice teases you.

There’s nothing for you to do but roll back to your own spot, silent as she keeps going. “And you’re not gonna say anything to Duke?” His name snaps you back to reality as you turn your head to face her.

“I don’t…” You try to argue your case, barren as it may seem, but it served no purpose when nothing came to mind.

“So you’ll say something to Egon?” Her face brightens with hope.

“I…” Nothing, again, as you search the floor for some sort of answer.

“So you won’t say anything to anyone and you’ll die an old hag?” She whines, setting the file down against the wood, eyebrows furrowed as you throw your head back, squinting at the ceiling.

Your brain was scrambled, not knowing whether it was on the offensive or the defensive. You make a resolve without thinking, tone self-assured. Or, in denial. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about. And I’ll…be with Duke because he actually likes me.” She starts to speak, but her words are cut off by a low, shaky rumbling reverberating throughout the firehouse. Both pairs of eyes instinctively flit downward, until a creaky note followed by a loud spraying noise and a curse resound from above you. 

The voice of the man in question cuts through the very loud chaos happening in your walls, calling down the hall. “The lab sink! It’s flooding!” The sounds of running water and creaky metal fill the space. Amidst the noise, you can hear Ray announce that “he’s got it!” as he makes it to the lab along with two other sets of feet, and you rush to the staircase.

“No, you don’t! You’re an engineer, not a pipefitter!” You leant on the railing, waiting for a response. You got one, as the madness quieted for a second, Janine coming out from under the desk. In an instant, it erupted again, even worse as you and Janine’s hands went flying towards your ears. There was a hellish cacophony of metal, gushing water, and creaking inside and outside the wallpaper, comparable to construction. You stumbled back to the desk, fingers pressed into your hair.

“Who do we get? What number do we call?” Janine hands you the phone, yelling over the endless pandemonium.

You have to yell back. “No one, after the work Ray did- no commercial plumber would come within 50 feet of our driveway if he wanted to keep his license.”

She shakes the phone at you, exasperated. “Well, what do we do? This place is falling apart!” You’re forced to take it then, holding back a sigh as you bite your cheek and punch in the only number you knew to contact.

Duke was underneath the sink unit, working hard as he lay on the towel you gave him to stay out of the inch of water that accumulated onto the floor. “It’s a good thing you called me when you did,” he marveled as he reached for a tool in the worn satchel you held like the daintiest picnic basket.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am that I did.” He sends you a smile from the ground, and you return it, until you hear the slosh of something dragging against water. Duke looks to the side, and you do the same as you look up, expression flat. Egon was in his chair, working at his workbench like there wasn’t centimeters of stagnant water at his ankles. You knew he was freaked out of his mind, he was just being difficult.

“Egon,” you inquired sweetly.

“Hm?” He was playing innocent.

Your voice retained the same sweet cadence. “Why are you here?”

Egon gazed at both of you incredulously, like he had no idea what he was doing wrong. “It’s my own laboratory, I think I reserve the right to be here.”

Your jaw clenched. “Of course. Hey, Duke, tell me again about your football team,” you hid the venom in your voice as your stare didn’t leave Egon’s sitting figure.

Duke shined when he recalled his years in high school sports. “Oh man, you have no idea. I was the best running back in Valentine. I was riding high, ‘till I tore my ACL. Could’ve gone pro.”

Egon spoke as you were about to praise the former athlete. “Interesting you mention football injuries. Many players can develop CTEs and never notice.” Duke blinked, nodding slowly.

“My head’s okay. I think.” 

“I’m sure. Poor impulse control, rage issues, and eventual dementia but- there’s no way we’ll know until you’re dead.” He shrugged, smile lopsided.

“And what a cute cadaver you’ll be, with cute Duke Juniors at your side after they do the autopsy,” you bent slightly, voice saccharine and expression strained as you got Duke’s attention again. It felt mean to think this, but he was a little easy to please.

“It might not be the CTE that gets him, after all. In fact, plumbers are easily at risk for infectious diseases. Hepatitis, staphylococcus. On account of the fecal matter and septic water.”

Before you could distract him, Duke looked offended, brows knitting together. 

“Nerds like you don’t get sick? With your samples and your tests?” He glanced at Egon sideways.

Egon simply shook his head. “No. Because I’ve never swam through human shit for a paycheck.”

Duke almost got up from his spot underneath the sink, sitting up on his forearm and pointing a tool towards the seated man. “I didn’t go to some big school for years just so I could be called doctor like you did. You don’t even patch anyone up,” he retorted harshly. Egon, the man who avoided confrontation, seemed smug and amused by the insult, ready to spit back himself.

You squatted to be level with him, internally thankful that your legs were strong enough to prevent you from falling backwards into standing water. “I’ve never told you how cool I think it is that your truck is so tall. I didn’t even know they made them that big.” God, you sounded like a cheerleader as you rested a hand on his chest, but it worked.

He was content with that as he wiped his hands off on a rag. “Y’know, sweet girl, I’ve been meaning to ask. Tomorrow’s Friday, wanna come out to the bar on 5th and Franklin? I’ll show you a good time.” He spoke low, eyes lower. Egon didn’t give you time to respond, as he was fully turned towards the both of you, face more than annoyed.

“She hates that club. And she told you that, because it has to do with why she doesn’t have her license, and she tells that story to everyone. Were you the exception, or did you just not care enough to remember? Because she won’t jump into bed with you on the spot?” For the second time that day, your blood turned to icy as you stood up fast, water splashing onto Duke’s shirt underneath you going unnoticed to everyone in the room but him as he grabbed the hem. 

You could barely control the anger in your voice as it rose in volume. “Egon,” was all you had to say, firm and frustrated as you stood with hands on your hips. He looked like a scolded child, wordlessly wading through the flood and following you outside.

You stood standing across from each other, Egon very interested in your shoes. “What the hell is wrong with you?” You questioned him, infuriated as you pinched each of his ears, pulling him down as he winced in pain. 

When you let go, he weakly soothed his red cartilage. “You don’t understand,” he muttered, immediately regretting his choice of words as your eyes lit aflame.

“What don’t I understand? That you didn’t mean to be a jerk to the guy trying to ask me out?” Egon took your reproach, until he couldn’t anymore.

“He doesn’t really like you,”’ he said reluctantly. 

“How would you know?” You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes. Was this why he was being so petty?

Egon sighed, before looking frustrating and starting off on a tangent. “He got you the wrong coffee, the kind that gives you a stomachache. And he got you store bought flowers that died within a week. Anyone who’s ever known you will know to get you a potted plant so you can keep it alive yourself. Not to mention that you’d have more stimulating conversation with a mailbox than him.” Egon looked choleric and uncomfortable as he tried to reason with you, voice raising slightly.

You took a step towards him, lowering your voice as you weren’t all that far from the lab- only down the hall. “At least he’s trying! In all the time you’ve known me, how many people did you know to actually try?” It sounded pathetic out loud, but it was true, right? For as long as you could remember, you knew that you’d eventually have no more room to nitpick. He had a brief, hurt expression, eyebrows flying together and mouth open slightly. He looked away once, before nearly begging you.

“He’s only trying because he thinks you’re a challenge!” He put both hands on your shoulders in a moment of desperation. “I’ve lived among men all my life. Even the most mild mannered guy has only one thing in mind, taking you to a club like that. He lets you talk and talk because you won’t think twice when-”

You pushed yourself away, a cynical smile as your face burned inside. “Oh, I’m sure Janine would be surprised to hear that coming from you.” You stepped toward the door, ready to open it and accept his invitation. Egon took a step towards you, as if you were an animal.

“What? I’m trying to tell you, he is an insincere neanderthal of a man, and he’ll do nothing but treat you like dirt.” You were ready to snap then. This was all too much for you, abstract emotions having nothing to do but manifest as frustration. Janine’s words mixed with Egon’s, resounding as negative affirmations through every corner of your head. 

This was all so confusing, and now here he was, telling you that the love you were receiving for so long was superficial. Wasn’t he supposed to be your friend? That hurt most of all, memories of the handful of times you were alone at night, spilling your thoughts out. You were tired, and he did more listening than talking, but you can remember him reassuring you that “ someone will love you. He’ll stop being scared and he’ll tell you with a beautiful flower in hand.” Who cares how you felt about Duke? The love he promised is here, and now it’s up to Egon to tell you it’s not true? You could barely feel tears in the corner of your eyes, disdain making them dry.

Taking a slow, yet shallow breath, you grabbed the door again, turning your back to him. “And you’re being an ass. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not at liberty to tell me who I should and shouldn’t be with.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look back at him, but if you did you’d see the visual representation of someone’s heart breaking into splinters. “I’m gonna go out with him and have fun. And drink.” With that, you were back in the lab, a little shaken as you put on a faulty smile, cheerily saying yes to his invite.

The next day came, and Peter let you go early since they’d finished all their scheduled jobs and Janine was still around. As you thanked him for excusing you, Egon stood wordlessly at the workbench.

You got nice and dressed up, perhaps a little better than you would otherwise. But this was for you, and partly to prove a point. Duke let you know how nice you looked during the ride from your place to the bar, granted he spent the rest of the drive going on about the truck itself. You seldom paid attention, mind so focused on enjoying yourself that you forgot to be in the moment.

At the door, you had to use a different form of identification to get in on account of this same club’s (teenaged?) bartender swiping your license to use for herself. Duke made some wayward comment on you proving that you were of age in some clandestine way, and you just sighed out your nose, handing the unamused bouncer your ID. 

The inside was hot, and loud. You couldn’t walk too far without bumping into someone. You only frequented places like this with friends, so a date was new territory as he sat down at the bar without looking back. He ordered a large beer, for himself, and insisted that you order another drink after you had nursed yours. You declined, you needed to remember tonight, and he seemed almost annoyed at that. The air was a little tense- it was hard to have a good time when only one person’s throwing back. It was only getting better when you did the cheerleader thing again, letting him pick you up with one arm and impress you with another round of shots. You suggested he slow down, and again denied another drink, and he seemed irritated again. You felt a little despondent yourself as he wouldn’t talk, before something across the bustling room got his attention and he halfheartedly excused himself. 

It didn’t take long before you found him in the corner of a bar, trying to impress much younger, much drunker girls. Drunken asshole. You dragged him back by the wrist, talking sweetly to him as you promised him a dance earlier in the night. He got excited, beating you at getting to the floor. As your sultry air fell, you caught a glimpse of bright colors in one of the booths, pointing in your direction. God damn it.

“What are you doing here?” You leaned against their table exasperated as 3 out of 4 of them beamed at you. Winston, Peter, and Ray each had the same dress shirt, buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to different degrees; in purple, red, and green respectively. Egon opted for a dress shirt he had at home, a simple light blue under a sweater vest and tie. He looked nothing sort of tense in the crowded environment, even more so now that you were in front of them. You scrunch your nose in sight of their outfits. “Did your tour bus break down?”

Winston put down his glass. “How’s your date going?” You closed your eyes and raised your eyebrows.

Peter looks over your shoulder at Duke making his way through the crowd. “He looks juiced.”

“It’s fine. Why are you here?” Ray smiled, putting a hand on Egon’s shoulder. 

“Can you believe this was Egon’s idea? Here, no less?” The man looked into your eyes sheepishly as you glared down at him. 

“Oh, I can believe it. Well, I hope you and Rosenberg enjoy your night.” You gave Egon a mocking grin, before departing to find Duke. You did, and he was, again, with another girl. You got his attention, and he was excited to dance- just extremely handsy. So much so that you had to hold his wrists to keep his hands on your waist, rather than your front or rear. 

Eventually, he spoke low and into your ear, but it wasn’t the titillating, sensual way that one would towards someone they were trying to romance. It made the hair on your neck stand for the wrong reasons as it registered as sleazy, predatory. Drunken words:sober thoughts, Janine’s voice sounded in your mind. 

“C’mon, let’s go to my place,” Duke finally ended his slurry of obscene suggestions as his hands tried at grabbing your wrist, motioning to lead you out to the apartment he didn’t even own. You resisted, heartbeat racing as you tried to politely let him know you were fine here. His half lidded eyes became aggravated as he tried again to drag you out, this time with a tighter grip and a stronger force. You couldn’t stop his strength as he started to pull you away from the safety of a crowd and towards the dimly lit exit, fingers digging at his in a desperate attempt to free yourself from the grips of this man with a getaway car and a plan. 

You were able to escape his tight hold, and he spun around, irate. “I went through all this trouble to listen to you bitch and moan about stupid shit, and you won’t even sleep with me?” As you stood there, dismayed, he managed to spit out a disgusting, derogatory insult at you, looking down at you in the flashing lights of the club. Drunken bastard. 

You were appalled, and before the record could change, you brought your hand up and to the side of his face, hard. He was stunned by the slap, cheek red as he looked back at you in disbelief. Your fear turned into great offense and disgust at the sight of the man in front of you. In an attempt to regain his pride he took a step forward, enraged and embarrassed. As he got almost chest to chest with you, he reached for your neck. 

Before he could choke you out, there was a hand on his shoulder. Almost as quickly as he looked over his shoulder, there was a fist connected to his other cheek, and you could swear a tooth or two came flying out. 

It all happened so quickly that you could’ve blinked and gotten to where you were, talking to a police officer outside as Duke and Egon were seated on the curb, handcuffed. The officer nodded as you gave your statement, and let Egon, who was sitting calmly, off with a warning as he wasn’t intoxicated and acted in your defense, while Duke hurled expletives and beer from his spot against the road. The car sped off with him in the backseat, and you tiredly sat down next to the tall man, stretching his wrists out from the handcuffs.

“Hey.”

Egon’s face was illuminated by the fluorescent lights of a 24 hour grocery behind him in the entertainment filled street. His brown eyes were soft and slightly rounded, albeit worn. “Hi.” He looked at you expectantly with a trace of worry as you scanned him. He looked beautiful at night. “Are you okay?” He bashfully held both of your hands in his.

You nodded. He didn’t seem to believe you, examining any part of your body that was exposed. You pinch his ears again, pulling him down. “Thanks for spying on me,” you let him go, “But. Thank you for being there, really. I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you were warning me.” He looked guilty as he rubbed the tops of his ears.

“I should be apologizing. It’s not my place to police what you do. I’m sorry I acted childish.” You let out a small huff, leaning your head on his shoulder. He was a warm refuge in the cooling air of the night.

“But, you wouldn’t have had to if I just rejected him.” 

He hummed. “True,” he agreed without thinking. He realized what he said as you let out a short laugh. “Objectively, it is true. But you shouldn’t blame yourself for him being disgusting. This could’ve been avoided if I had just gained the courage to tell you.” You sighed, before freezing.

“Tell me?”

It was his turn to freeze, eyes on the ground as he sat still. You shook his shoulder a bit, trying to convince him to let you in.

“Tell me what? C’mon, no more secrecy from now on.” He pursed his lips, sitting like a deer in headlights. He swallowed, battling something in his head before he rose silently, stopping in front of the tiny grocery store. You watched on as he robotically made it past cut and wrapped bouquets, artificial and destined to wilt soon. He stopped in front of a little potted thing, tiny compared to the others on sale but precious and hardy in its own right as its blossoms were finished blooming.

Egon took a breath in, and you stood to be with him. “I promised you. That the love of your life will be there with a flower in hand.” He looked between you in the pot. “If you’ll have me?”

The sounds and colors of the club melted away, painting you both in light like oil portraits. How blind you were. He looked grecian, his nervous face bathed in blue.

 “Of course. Even if you had to act like a caveman for me to realize."

[notquitecanon]

Tell 'em bout the Twinkie // Dr. Egon Spengler x extroverted!Reader

Summary: Egon takes care of you after a long night on the town with the other Ghostbusters. While somethings are always the same, you surprise him yet again.

I found this hand written in a notebook from two years ago while I was cleaning so I figured id type it up and post it since there wasn't much new stuff in the tag. Dinner is served.

Warnings: alcohol use, drunk reader, sober Egon (obvi), descriptions of scraped knees and cut hands, blood mention, and first aid. Lots and lots and lots of fluff. Possible cringe. shameless use of Twinkie as an emotional allegory

Dr. Egon Spengler was enjoying a rare night of quiet in the firehouse. Janine had scheduled the whole week around the entire group being free tonight. Peter had insisted a little R&R was due in spades. And for Egon that meant spending a quiet night in, lackadaisically charting his mold and fungus, and catching up on relevant literature at his leisure. 

But for the rest of the Ghostbusters staff, it meant going out to a nearby bar for drinks and music. That included you, the Ghostbusters resident research analyst (as you were listed on their payroll). 

You had been hesitant to leave Egon alone, especially on one of the few nights you wren’t working to the wee hours of the morning or having dinner interrupted by what Winston had dubbed the "bust alarm". Still, the scientist encouraged you to join the others, knowing deep down you wanted to go. 

One of the many reasons he admired you was your easy and outgoing nature, your desire to be out in the world. Due to his introverted and nose in his book habits (even worse when he was in college), your extroverted demeanor was probably the only reason you had managed to befriend him. And because he admired it and profoundly enjoyed your company, he never Egon ever wanted to be the reason you didn’t do the things you wanted to. 

However, that didn’t mean he had the slightest inclination to join you in a Friday night crowded bar: packed with sweaty people he didn’t want to touch, drinks he didn’t want to drink, loud music he didn’t want to hear, smoky air he didn’t want to breath, and sticky countertops he didn’t want to sit at. And that’s just the reasons he got out before Peter gave up trying to convince him. 

So, he was content to gently push you towards the door with the assured promise he’d be happily waiting with for your return with leftover takeout- both of your favorite ways to end a late night since meeting each other as Grad Students. Nothing better than cold noodles after coming home little drunker than you meant to- and well, Egon didn’t drink but did enjoy an excuse for a late night snack (and an excuse to be close to you).

And with the firehouse still and quiet, Egon was enthused, seeing how ectoplasm interacted and affected the growth of his molds, making mental notes to show you. 

Aspergillums wouldn’t grow at all, actively decaying at ectoplasmic contact. Cladosporium both grew and decayed erratically with Ecto contact, creating a cascading starburst affect. Alternaria first grew at unprecedented rates but wouldn’t produce spores. Penicillin frew at normal rates but produced an odd smell. Fusarium grew rapidly and abundantly at first but died off just as rapidly. 

"Spengie!" A recklessly loud shout, Peter no doubt, echoed from the main entrance, "You gotta marry this girl!” 

And thus his quiet night was suddenly over- con. But it meant you were home- pro! Venkman's shout was accompanied by the sound of quick footwork stomping and scuffing above him, and Egon could imagine him doing a little spin around the fire pole. It was Winston’s voice that following in scolding. 

"Peter if you don’t shut the hell up, I will leave you at the bottom of the stairs for the night. We both know you won’t make it up by yourself.” His voice was a warning, but Venkman’s voice was cheeky. 

"After all we’ve been through, Zeddemore?” 

"Especially after all we’ve been through.” 

Egon smirked at his friend’s antics, shaking his head as he removed the Trichoderma slide from the microscope, encapsulated it, labeled it, and sorted it into his hobby file base. A well practiced move as a set of footsteps clunked down the stairs to him. His eyebrows twitched. 

Those weren’t your footsteps. 

And while he loved his friends dearly, they had gotten your company and attention all night. Despite his insistence on your outing, he was feeling uncharacteristically territorial about his night time traditions with you. 

"I’d knock but I don’t have a hand." Ray’s voice called out, sounding three quarters of the way down, chipper tone underplayed by a touch of strain. His steps were unaccompanied and you hadn’t called out to him yet- not even a good night. Had you decided to skip takeout all together in favore of crashing on the upstairs couch? If anything, the couch he had in the basement would be better for your REM cycle. Not to mention Egon was also in the basement.

Nonetheless, Egon answered, inviting him into the lab as he rose from his work stool. Finally, Ray turned the corner, silently answering all the scientist’s questions. Because there you were, wrapped around Ray’s back like a proton pack, your own jacket hanging behind the both of you like a cape, your purse on Ray’s shoulder, and shamefully useless shoes in his hand. Rays arms looped under your lax knees, and your arms were loosely around his neck like the worlds drunkest scarf. Meanwhile, your face had tucked into Ray’s neck, between your arm and his collar, now smudged with your lipstick. 

There was a momentary flash of jealousy until it was squashed by Egon’s sudden attention to your knees. He tensed, seeing a patch of blood on both knees, staining ripped tights and dripping to your ankles. There was a more subtle smudge of injury on both of your palms. 

"What happened?" Egon’s voice was clipped, zeroing in on your wounds as he crossed the lab, suddenly much more worried that you hadn’t even twitched. You were breathing deeply, but hand’t made a sound…

Ray had been expecting this reaction and kept a calm face, "Just took a little tumble, Spengler, see?” 

With that, he shook one of the arms holding your legs, jostling you enough to rouse you a little. Without looking up, one of your bloody hands weakly formed a thumbs up before going limp again. Egon looked between your hand and Ray’s face in a mix of disbelief, worry, and irritation. Stantz swallowed thickly, shifting from foot to foot under his friend’s discerning gaze. 

"That didn’t answer my question, Raymond.”

It only took one more cold look for Ray to start rambling the truth.

"Awww, don’t Raymond me, Spengs, it was all Peter’s fault, honest! It was like graduation weekend all over again. Venkman wanted a rematch, and, you know, (Y/N) had just enough to drink that she was feeling competitive. They agreed to the same stakes as last time and since you weren’t there (Y/N) placed a bet on your behalf." Ray explained quickly, not managing to hide his happy smile as he moved to gingerly deposit you on the couch. Egon was following like a shadow, taking great care to keep your head from falling back uncomfortably. Graduation Weekend had been the last time you had been carried home like this, only Egon had done the carrying that weekend, after going shot-for-shot with Venkman. After that and the subsequent hangover, you had vowed to 'grow up' and never get too drunk to walk for yourself. Until tonight apparently, Egon mused, brushing some hair out of the dried sweat on your forehead and noting your breathing, heavy but shallow. Not unusual after alcohol consumption. As Ray unlatched your knee from his hip, he perked up, "On the bright side, Peter’s cleaning the soot out of the Proton packs’ exhaust vents for a month! Lost on a technicality.”

"Hmmm." Egon hummed, adjusting you into a more comfortable sitting position as you slowly started to wake up, "Get the first aid kit for me?” 

"Sure thing." 

Egon watched your slow, scrunched blinks and how you slowly lifted your head to look at him, squinting before deadpanning until the blurry shape came into focus. It was hard to be irritated with you when your flushed face broke out into an unabated, silly grin, half lidded eyes brightening as you called in sleepy excitement, "Egon!" 

Spengler took the opportunity to analyze the dilation of your pupils-  glassy and dilated, but responsive. Good. He offered you a dry smile to appease you as Ray put the first aid kit beside you. In his other hand were three bottle- another college tradition. A non-FDA approved electrolyte and mineral enriched drink, formulated by Egon when he lived with Peter who was insufferable when hungover. Venkman called it "Liquid Rewind" and begged Egon to patent and copy right it, only after convincing him to add flavoring to mask the terribly bitter taste. 

Spengler nodded a thank you as he plucked the red one from Ray’s hand, giving it to you. Ray watched you pressed the chilled bottle against your warm cheek. This left the already opened grape to Ray who sported a purple ring around his mouth and orange for Peter. 

"Egon, red is Pete’s favorite." Ray pointed out as Egon started unpacking the first aid kit.

"I know." 

"He hates orange." Ray reminded him. 

"I know." 

Ray nodded slowly, he knew how petty Egon could be when he was irritated, and he didn’t plan to attract the scientist’s wrath. Instead, he cheerfully patted Egon’s shoulder and moved towards the staircase, "Alrighty then, she’s all yours now. G’nite, Spengs." 

"Goodnight, Ray. Thanks for getting her home.”

"Well, she sure didn’t make it easy. For a research analyst, she’s pretty slippery." Ray laughed, mostly to himself as he shuffled up the stairs most likely to the bunk room while Spengler pulled on a pair of medical rubber gloves. Egon also knew this from experience- Graduation Weekend he had also done the chasing when you pulled honestly impressive feats of escapism. Now, alone in the lab, Egon was kneeling in front of you in record time. 

He took the first aid scissor and made quick work of ripping off your already shredding tights with such an efficiency that if you were in your right mind you probably would have been too flustered to think straight. 

Egon ignored your little noise of protest, attractive scientist or not, those had been your good tights. The scientists offered you a cocked eyebrow as he rolled the tights down your legs. You simply sighed as he started gentle strokes to clean the blood off you now bare skin.

"Did you have to give Ray such a hard time?” 

The scolding was playful even though delivered with his usual level of directness, still, even drunk you knew him well enough that it made you smile. 

"Well, I was actually giving Peter a rough time, Ray just happened to be collateral damage." Sleep was starting to wear off, leaving your words only a little slurred, as if you were taking great efforts to make sure they were clear. 

"And what did Peter do to deserve your ire this time?" Egon dousing some gauze with antiseptic. He didn’t flinch at the acrid scent, and usually you wouldn’t either, but this time your nose scrunched as Egon moved in even closer. However, you didn’t flinch in the slightest when he started dabbing at the shredding parts of your knees. Instead, you took the chance to appreciate the view of the good doctor kneeling in front of you, overhead lights casting a halo on his dark curls. It would be the perfect distance to lazily run gentle fingers through those curls. You seriously contemplated, but decided not to. You didn’t want to get blood in his pretty, soft hair. Wait- you were supposed to be answering his question… 

"Made an uncouth comment." You sniffed as Egon moved to the next knee to clean the scrape. He hummed again noticing your non answer but not commenting- one problem at a time.  

"Most of his comments are uncouth." He pointed out, pausing to smirk up at you, sighing in relief when you giggled. The was a comfortable pause as Egon focussed in on the deepest gash, but not for long.

"How is the ectoplasm variant going?" You asked after going quiet long enough that Egon wondered if you had fallen back asleep. 

"I’ll have to show you tomorrow. I want your thoughts." Egon informed, a slight smile and point of pride that you had inquired after his work even in your current state as he dabbed antibiotic cream on your knees, "The Cladosporium is behaving particularly erratic." 

"Ugh, my bet was on the Asparagus." You sighed, prodding at the edge of one of the deeper cuts at the top of your knee. Egon gently, but sternly, nudged your hand away, giving you a warning eyebrow before taping large bandage on over one knee. 

"Aspergillus." He correct, almost sounding amused as he moved to the next knee, applying the bandage with just as much care, "Hands." 

"Yes, doctor." You teased, offering both your palms. Egon gently took your left in his larger hand, using his other to repeat the same process. These scrapes were much less deep, mainly superficial, a product of catching yourself before your head hit the pavement, your knees had taken the brunt of it, but Egon was nothing if not thorough. It was quick work to clean and bandage both palms. 

"There, that should prevent an infection." Spengler informed you, holding both of your treated hands in his after disposing of his gloves, he gave them a quick, tender squeeze before pressing the bottle of red ~liquid rewind~ into your grasp, quickly cracking the lid off for you, "Drink that." 

"You know I’m not even that drunk." You scoffed, giving him a playful glare but obeying anyway, taking a long pull of the bottle, only stopping to swallow and breathe before going back in. This time both of his brows were raised as he stood, taking the trash from his impromptu clinic to the nearest bin. 

"How much have you had to drink, exactly?" 

You thought to yourself for a second, raising your eyes to the ceiling and mouthing numbers before tallying them on your fingers while you mentally replayed the night. Egon waited expectantly as he removed his lab coat, getting increasingly more concerned the longer the tally went on. 

"Lets see…. approximately pi cubed divided in half times 1.5, minus six." 

Egon didn’t even have to think about the calculation, instead being bewildered by the sheer amount of liquor you had managed to imbibe. His voice raised just a bit, mostly in disbelief and concern, "17 drinks?! (Y/N)." 

His disbelief sounded more like frustration to you, and your lip wobbled a bit as you lurched forward, regretting the sudden move but powering through as your eyebrows knitted up, looking up to the scientist pleading, voice a whine, "Don’t be mad." 

Egon shook his head with a deep sigh, catching your hand as you reached for him.

"I’m not mad. Surprised you’re coherent? Yes. Impressed at your current equational prowess? Definitely."  He listed as you weakly pulled him back towards you. Egon nudged the forgotten red stained bottle, "C’mon, a little more." 

After a long swallow, you nodded, "Well, after I slipped the boys, I made it pretty far uptown before they found me-" 

You had started almost sheepishly, this time expecting Egon’s crinkled eyebrows and interruption. 

"They lost you?" He repeated lowly, but you just shrugged, squeezing his hand as you continued your tale. 

"Only for an hour, but it was a long walk back home. Well, it was for Ray at least. So I had plenty of time to workshop my math, Ray doublechecked it for me. And I still had time for a nap." You seemed pretty proud of yourself. Egon opened his mouth, eyebrows raising then falling as his mouth closed. 

"I see. Is there a particular reason you needed to escape?" 

"Noooo…."You dragged out, using his hand to pull yourself out of you slouched sitting, using him to keep yourself steady. Egon didn’t budge, allowing the contact. His head cocked ever so slightly to the side, looking at you over the rim of his glasses. You crumbled instantly, "Yes." 

With an innocent smile, you fished into your jacket pockets, patting yourself down with increasing franticness, "I kept going until I could find a 24 hour bodega." 

"You ran off inebriated by yourself in the middle of the night to a late night convenience store in New York City? This neighborhood is basically a demilitarized zone. We’re definitely going to have to discuss that." He muttered, checking you over for any injuries he or Ray might have missed. You were undeterred by his scolding because you had found whatever you had been searching for.  

"Well, where else was I gonna find these at this hour?" You asked earnestly, revealing two only slightly squished Twinkie's. It was your turn to quirk an eyebrow, "What? Did you think I would forget about our late night snack?”

You were interrupted by a overpowering yawn, eyes suddenly drooping, "Gonna be honest though, don’t think cold Thai food is a great move for me at the moment. 

Egon took the slightly squished confection out of your hand, giving it an appraising gaze, before breaking into that signature sideways smile as you leaned into his chest. With all the secrets of the night in the open, you didn’t have much else fighting to keep you awake. Egon his arms around your back, using one hand to rub soothing circles on your back. The good doctor allowed you to stay like that, his cheek pressed against the top of your head. As your breathing slowed, more and more of your weight slumped against him. 

Egon didn’t mind, finally getting that close contact he’d been waiting all night for. Instead, he stared down at the twinkie in his hand. The cream was squeezing out of the sponge cake and smearing onto the crinkled plastic wrapper, but you had ventured countless blocks out of your way, escaping three of New York’s ghostbusters, just to pick up something you knew he’d like.  Even with 17 drinks actively shrinking your neurons, you were always so thoughtful. 

Egon was well aware of how much his friends loved him, and he would always be grateful for finding each of them. But there was always just something different about your love. If Egon possessed a more artistic disposition, he might describe it as a warm ocean wave washing over a beach. Gentle, yet unstoppable. All encompassing. He wasn’t quite sure what he had done to deserve someone like you to love him like you did, but whatever it was he’d do it a thousand times over- even if it meant cleaning you up after a long night out on the town. 

"Did you have a good time tonight?" He asked quietly, feeling you nod into his chest . His sweater was soft against your cheek and he smelled as wonderful as always: earthy yet clean and the slightest hint of something smoky like a full trap or lab experiment gone wrong. After a deep inhale you nodded again through another yawn. 

"Mmmhm. ‘missed you though." Your voice had slowed back down to its sleepy, slow tone that Egon would never admit to loving as much as he did, the warmth of him and quiet lulling you. You were fighting to stay afloat, but Egon’s thumbs working slow circles into your back were winning as he answered. 

"I missed your company as well." 

-

And it was later, when you had fallen into a deep unbothered sleep on the lab’s couch after stealing one of Egon’s t-shirts- the ones he would wear under his jumpsuit-, and using his lab coat as a blanket, that Egon thought about all this, taking a slow bite of his slightly squished gift.

Peter was right. One day, he needed to marry you.

-----

so I tried two somethings new. 1.) tried writing this more from his perspective, which isn't something I really do with any character. 2.) Paired him with a more extroverted out going reader, because I feel like we usually see him paired with more introverted types

anyways I typed this up at 3 am after crying for five hours so please excuse any typos.

[digging-his-grave]

fellas, is it gay to suck out your soul because you want to be on the same dimensional plane as a ghost girl you met a few days ago?

[hguhie]

not star trek but um. watched the new ghostbusters today. ghost lesbians ,

[asseenontv]

Are You Okay?!

Trevor Spengler x gn Reader fluff

Ghostbusters Afterlife

Warnings: swearing, no use of y/n

Summary: when Trevor, Phoebe and Podcast first catch Muncher you’re in the crossfire by being a bystander on the street while they try to trap it and you get hurt but Trevor checks on you after it’s all done

You’re sitting on the curb outside on the street and scrolling on your phone mindlessly, either on TikTok, Twitter or Instagram when you hear the sound of a loud and obnoxious engine getting closer, you look up for a second and see this junkyard of a car speeding up the road with what looks like… A KID SITTING ON THE OUTSIDE OF IT?!

You have barely anytime to react when you see this huge beam of light rapidly and uncontrollably whip around everywhere as it tries to grab a ghost-like thing, suddenly it loses control and goes straight for you in a flash of light.

The beam shoots at you and grazes your ankle, in turn, burning your shoes and pants (or leggings/stockings). You quickly splash your drink on your leg in hopes it would put out the small fire that was on your clothes and it does. You look at the car speeding down the street once again to see the small girl turn around and glance at you with a sorry expression.

A couple minutes later you see the car once again speed up the street to you except this time the little girl isn’t outside. It stops abruptly on the road and out jumps the girl, a boy around her age and a teenage guy around your own. The teenage boy turns to the girl and says to her, quietly yelling,

“You should’ve been more careful with that thing!” He says in an annoyed tone

“You know It cant be controlled easily, Trevor!” She tells him

“Well you almost killed them!” He says gesturing towards you

“You know what? Just go sit back in the car, I’ll deal with this and hopefully not get us sued” he tells both the boy and the girl

Once the younger ones sit back in the car and close the door, the teenager looks down at you and then sits on the curb next to you

“Does that hurt? Did it burn you? I can get something cold to put on it” he says in order to try and make things right, he talks in kind of an awkward tone as well

“Yeah it does hurt a bit, it would be nice to get some ice or something” you say while checking the damage again and then looking up at him, he was quite tall even when sitting down

“Yeah okay, sure let me get you something” he says and hops up and walks to a shop next door

He comes out a minute later with a canned drink in hand and gives it to you

“Sorry they don’t have much for a burn, it’s cold enough though, right? He asks while sitting down again

“It’s fine, I’ll ice it when I get home” you say putting the can on your burn and looking down again

“I’m Trevor, the two kids with me are Phoebe and Podcast” he says raising his hand awkwardly for you to shake

You shake his hand slowly “Podcast?” You ask in confusion and with a small smile

“I don’t know, he calls himself that”

“Okayyy…” you say awkwardly

“Also are you gonna tell me what the fuck that was you shot me with?” You say looking back at him

“I didn’t shoot you?” He says with a fake offended tone “also I barely understand so I can’t explain much”

A small silence happens after until you interrupt it by saying your name to him and he smiles at you

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

You guys talk for a couple minutes, laughing about stuff and it turns out you guys have a lot in common, music, movies and interests in general

“Well look at that” the little girl from earlier steps out of the car and stands infront of it to which you and Trevor look at her

“Looks like you finally got a partner so you don’t have to act all weird at that job anymore” she says in a rather dry and sarcastic attitude

“Shut up Phoebe!” Trevor yells back at her

“We have to go home anyways, Podcast needs to go home as well” she says gesturing for him to get back inside the car

Trevor sighs and stands up but before getting in he says “oh, can I get your number? I wanna hang out because you seem actually cool”

“Yeah sure” you take his phone and put your number in

“Thanks” he says with a smile and hops inside the car and speeds off down the road

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Later that night when you’re laying down in bed you get a text

“ Hey i was wondering if you wanted to hang out tmr? “

It Was Trevor

Hi this is my first fic in a long time! Let me know if you wanna see more of something :)

[bella-goths-wife]

“Meet the family”

Ghostbusters x reader

Warnings: illusions to suicide, reader is dead, strange mother daughter relationship, implied dysfunctional family

Egon has a very carefully planned out Monday, he has a rigid routine that few people he allows to disrupt.

First he wakes up and has his usual hearty breakfast of eggs and some kind of meat, unless he’s had Chinese takeout the night before, in which case he’ll eat the leftovers. Next he quizzes himself with some brain challenging puzzles to keep his brain functioning and active.

After that he’ll arrive at the ghostbusters headquarters at exacting 8:15AM, go on a few jobs, usually around three which will take him to 9PM. At that time he will head down to his lab, do a few experiments before fruitlessly trying to communicate with your spiritual being.

Yes, Egon Spengler rarely let anyone disrupt his perfectly planned out Monday morning routine.

But this strange woman waiting outside ghostbusters headquarters certainly managed to disrupt it, especially when she claimed to be your mother.

———————————————————————-

Egon wasn’t sure what to make of your mother as he offered her a seat at the desk.

She didn’t look like you, from the rare photo he found of you or your ghostly apparition. While your mother was a stubby little woman with a pinched sour expression and a penchant for scowling, your face was like a fox’s with how your smile perked up on your lips and your eyes held a unique light to them.

“Landlord said her boyfriend picked up her stuff” your mother said with a grim look as she pulled out one of her cigarettes, not the elegant kind that most ladies these days used, but the musky smelling ones that usually accompanied established gentlemen in the drawing rooms of their expensive homes “said you took all of it home”

“Yes ma’am” Egon says with a cautious nod as he tried to analyse how this conversation would go “I didn’t realise her family wanted it”

“So you assumed” your mother said quickly with a slight scoff “you couldn’t have called first?”

Egon is taken aback by the woman’s words as his eyes narrowed, wondering what this woman’s intentions were.

“With all due respect ma’am” Egon started as your mother smoked her cigarette “her things had been in storage for well over a month, I assumed she didn’t have any family”

The woman stilled slightly before puffing out smoke with an almost empty expression. This wasn’t a woman who looked like she was wracked with grief, nor did she look like she was happy with the circumstances. The woman just looked vague, with no discernible emotion behind her well put together look and her unmoving mountain of makeup purposely put on to hide the effects that aging had on her body.

“She had something of mine within her belongings, a small locket that was my mothers” your mother spoke stiffly with a tense look as she smoked “I’d hoped she’d give it to her children one day, though I don’t suppose that’s happening anymore”

The brief opening of a vulnerable side was shown like a fast moving slideshow, and Egon knew he’d have to work fast to get anything more out of her.

“Was she your only child?” Egon asked calmly, an analysing look in his eyes as he tried to spot weakness

“Her father had a few more somewhere along the line, but she was the only one in wedlock” the woman sniffed in an almost disgusted manner “rightly so that she was the best one out of the bunch”

“I see” Egon says with a taken aback expression, he’s about to speak again but he’s quickly cut off

“Can you bring her stuff out here” the woman asks almost impatiently “I want to find my locket”

Egon nods with a sigh, this woman wouldn’t get him anywhere in finding out more about you. All she was after was her own little material items.

———————————————————————-

The woman shuffled through the boxes that Egon had brought out, hands working almost softly as she grazed them over your various items.

Egon had expected her to treat your items roughly in an attempt to salvage her lost locket, but the way your mother went through your things was almost ritualistic.

She skimmed her fingers over the letters of each of your various awards, reading each one slowly and carefully as if recreating the memory within her mind.

“What was she like?” Egon asked to cut through the tense silence, breaking your mother out her trance as she let go of your awards “when she was younger”

Your mother lets herself think for a moment, almost having to use a considerable amount of effort into making sure she phrased it right

“She was a fidgety child, never stayed in one place for too long” the woman speaks in a hushed tone “her teachers said it was due to her being unchallenged for her intellectual level, that everyday living bored her”

Egon nods thoughtfully as the woman speaks, looking through the various boxes for her locket. Taking in as much information as possible

“She excelled in everything she did, with some pushing from her father and I” the woman explains with a melancholy look “she had the same problem as me really”

“What’s that?” Egon asks curiously as he helped the woman search

“She was born knowing too much” the woman says with a heavy sigh “ignorance can help people escape the dreary aspects of life, she wasn’t able to do that so she’d cause trouble instead”

In that moment, realisation dawned upon Egon. All your mischievous actions and your games weren’t out of malice but out of boredom, at least before them trapping you it was.

You were intellectually stuck in life and in death with no real challenges to cure your eternal boredom, that’s why the ghostbusters attention had been such a respite for you.

And they had punished you for it the moment you had made a mistake.

“I heard from the landlord that she died quickly” your mother spoke quietly as she held onto a prize ribbon for a highschool chess tournament “she was always in such a rush to reach the next goal”

There was a considerable silence that hung heavy in the air as Egon tried to digest her words, to understand them.

The silence ended as the woman’s fake nails tapped against the metal of the newly retrieved locket that laid in her hands, the fine metal work and the small encrusted jewel showing Its extraordinary value.

The woman clutched the locket close to her heart before placing it around her neck, putting it in the same position as you wore it in so many of your photos.

“I brought something” the woman said almost hesitantly as her hand disappeared into her purse before pulling out a small, old stuffed bunny toy “I found it in her old room, I wanted to give it to her but I’m not sure where her remains are”

Egon inspected the bunny toy in his hands and looked at the pure white fur as if it was another piece of the puzzle slotting itself together

“She’s had since she was a baby, it was the only thing that calmed her down from crying” the woman said with a far away look in her eyes “please make sure it’s put with her grave”

“I will” Egon says with a sympathetic look and a quick nod

The woman gets up to take her leave, leaving behind the rest of your belongings. She turns to look at Egon one more time as her mouth opens hesitantly

“My daughter was brilliant in every way” she admits quietly “I think that’s what drove her too it in the end”

And with that the woman left Egon alone with thousands of thoughts swimming in his head.

———————————————————————

You had trashed his lab again that evening, out of anger.

You had seen your mother enter the building but the cowardly part of you that was still human refused to go into the room where she talked with Egon.

Instead all of your resentment was taken out on egons lab equipment, at least the stuff he hadn’t moved out of it to avoid your wrath.

Egon only sighed when he saw your mess, knowing you were in the room only by the temperature drop alone.

Usually he would fit a scolding into his tight fit schedule, but not tonight.

You observed him and his distracted state before watching as he placed something on the slab in the middle of his lab.

Your eyes zero in on the bunny and a flurry of emotions spin around your head like a tornado and you swore that if you’d had a heart still it would be beating out of your chest.

Egon observed motionlessly as your translucent figure became visible and slowly clutched the bunny toy, similar to how your mother had with the locket.

Egon spun around and walked out the room, deciding to give you some well earned privacy. He decided it was time he looked through the rest of your things

Time to figure out exactly who the little ghost the ghostbusters had caught was.

[ilovetheriddler]

egon spengler - baking - fluff and smut thank you!

I hope that you enjoy it!

Halloween Fic Event.

A Surprisingly Haunting Taste.

(Egon Spengler x F!Reader.)

Contents: NSFW 18+ 🔞🔞🔞 Oral, Kissing, Fluff.

You carefully laid out everything that would be necessary for the baked goods that you intended to bake with Egon's help. After looking at the various different options, you ultimately decided that baking cookies and then decorating them in a Halloween themed would be perfect. You turned to him to inquire about what type of cookies you were going to make.

"So, Sugar Cookies or Chocolate chip?"

"I very much enjoy chocolate chip, so I feel like that's a safe choice."

You helped him tie his apron in the back. It had a somewhat humorous chemical formula on the front of it that was actually just the make up of what goes into a cake. You found it to be very cute and fitting for him.

The two of you went about getting everything started, with him cracking the eggs and focusing on the wet ingredients, and you focusing on the dry ones, the process was slow but Egon insisted that he wanted to try and make them from scratch, by the time everything was mixed and put in the oven the two of you were already quite covered in flour, it made him look as white as a ghost, and you had to hold yourself back from cracking a ghost related joke or pun.

You soaked a washcloth in the sink, and then took it and carefully started cleaning the flour off of his face. His eyes softened, and he let out a gentle chuckle at your tender and affectionate gesture.

"Dear, I appreciate the help, but I'm more than capable of cleaning myself off."

"I know you are, but I want to do this... is there a problem with that?"

"Of course not. However, I want to clean you off as well, to keep things even and fair."

"Sounds fine to me!"

You expected him to take the washcloth from you, but were a bit surprised when he leaned in and gently kissed your lips instead, allowing it to linger for only a few seconds before properly taking the washcloth and cleaning off your face.

The two of you went back and forth like that for a bit while you waited for the cookies to finish baking. However, one thing led to another, and before you knew it, you were up on the counter, your pants and underwear long discarded, with Egon's head in-between your thighs.

"E-Egon... are you sure you want to do this?"

"I'm absolutely positive dear, I want to know if tasting you while something with a particularly sweet aroma cooking nearby will affect how you taste or if it does nothing. As a man of science, I must consider all the variables."

You watched as he paused for a moment, considering something quietly before taking off his glasses and sitting them next to you on the counter. He moved his hands up your thighs, grasping onto them just tightly enough before spreading them apart just a tad more.

You let out a mixture between an embarrassed squeal and a moan as he buried his face against you, sliding his tongue just barely inside of your folds, eagerly lapping up your dripping arousal and groaning softly as he savored the taste of you.

He continued licking and sucking at your entrance, and your clitoris, it didn't take long with how terrifyingly precise and methodical he was before you were being pushed over the edge, Cumming all over his mouth and lower face with an intensity that only spurred him on more in all honesty.

"Hmm... it's as I hypothesized, you're simply so sweet that no outside factor can alter that, how interesting.... I still think I need to run this test, at least another... two or three times, just to have multiple points to compare, of course."

"Y-yeah, sure... we can do this as many times as you want to..."

And you would have let him... if the smoke alarm didn't go off, the cookies were burned and ruined... oh well, at least you enjoyed yourself.

[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).”

[ghostbustting]

some lazy sex with James in the afternoon,like they are just sitting on the couch and she straddles him and rides him slowly and lazily(ig load/reload James would fit this scenario) thank u <3

♯ ; “𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑵𝑳𝒀„ ༘⋆

James Hetfield x Reader.

Contains smut (p in v, riding), slight fluff.

Song: Heavenly by Cigarettes After Sex.

The damp state of the pavement I step on caused the steps of my boots to sound louder as I walk up the steps to my home, the door that awaits looking as welcoming as ever, my body seeks the warmth that one of my favorite places always provides me with. Also with the knowledge that the man I seek love in was also waiting for me behind those walls.

A perfect combo of what I need right after a long tiring day of work and endless lectures from my boss.

Turning my attention away from the beautiful gradation of afternoon skies, my hand dug into the bag hanging on my shoulder, wriggling through items and items till I find the cool metal of the silver key, pulling it out right away.

Unlocking and opening the door themselves feels like a reward. A fresh air of home to breathe. As a child, you might wish to be out of your house most of the times. But now, I truly wish nothing more but to have even the tiniest time in the universe to just get the chance to lay in my bed with my arms around him while rain pours outside, not a single care of the world and definitely not a single lecture ringing in my ear from that sissy man I had the torture to call my 'boss'.

The first few steps I took into the house, I can already see him, feeling that damn flutter in my heart whenever my eyes land on him- almost as if I haven't been with him for years by now, almost as if each new sight of him makes me a new woman.

James was sitting on the couch with his body leaned back all the way, his head resting on the folded arms he had behind his head while his eyes had a focused stare at the show playing on the television set in our living room. My eyes didn't leave out the sight of his spread legs, the fabric of his dark jeans stretching out. The focus he had on the telly wasn't long the moment my presence became noticeable, his eyes darting away from the screen and towards me, his pupils lighting up with a lazy smile on his face.

What a sight you are, James Hetfield.

"If it isn't my hardworking woman." He teasingly spoke in a breath as one of his arm leave the back of his head to beckon me with his fingers to come closer. "How was your day? That old guy still being a pain in the ass?" He chuckle softly.

My hand discarded my bag away, tossing it onto the floor without another care for the things packed inside of it, my care only for him. The closer I get to him, the more I notice the way his eyes weren't as energized as they usually were, James looking rather... sleepy. Yet still, it didn't really change the fact his face looks so fuckable kissable.

I sigh as my body gently yet immediately drop onto his lap with my legs on each side of his thighs, almost like a reflex or a habit by now. His lap seemed to be the only rightful place for my ass to be placed on and James was definitely not going to deny that. In fact, he'd be the one who claim that in the first place.

My chin rest on his shoulder as I mumble into his ear, "Don't wanna talk about my day." I let out a small tired out grunt before relaxing to the feeling of the touch of one of his hands on my back, rubbing soothingly up and down while the other was running through the strands of my hair instead, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

"That bad?" He chuckles yet again, head leaning down to press a soft kiss to my temple before trailing to my neck, settling on the crook of it, a small shaky breath escaping my lips when I feel the ticklish feeling of his moustache rubbing against my skin. The feeling of his body under mine felt like being burried in layers of warm thick blankets, the warmth of his skin was exactly what I needed after a long day in a season such as this.

”You’re here now, that’s all that matters..”

Pressed against my neck, I can feel the curve of his lips form a soft smile at my words, the smallest gesture that cause much more to me, my body relaxing so muh to the point i feel like turning to jelly, my body soon molding into his.

”Tired, mm?” He whisper as he stroke my hair again, that same hand slowly trailing down to my shoulder where he’d rub soothing circles to my skin before trailing down yet again, this time to my back. However, he was not stopping till he eventually reach my waist and his fingertips land on the waistband of my pants. “Just relax�� You deserve it.”

The post-work tiring state my body was in was too consuming that I almost fell asleep right on his body, oblivious to the way his hands move across my body and the absence of my clothes. All I know was that just out of nowhere, the only thing on me was my button up shirt, which was now half undone, as well as the disappearance of James’ jeans that I had been sitting on, my ass now up in the air with the help of James’ large warm palm holding my ass, his other hand focused on aligning his now unleashed cock with the entrance of my cunt.

Scenarios such as this one wasn’t rare to be found during tiring Afternoons like this. We would occasionally find ourselves having gentle and sweet love making in order to relax. In a way, the way our soul and body meets and connects in this one particular activity, it feels so heavenly. His soul was is exactly where I want to be, where I belong. Just giving our love to each other feels like a gush of wind that was able to blow away all our stress that were once acting as a heavy weight on our shoulders.

I let out a small sigh of relief by the time he slowly drop my body, his full length almost immediately filling me up to the brim, yet so gently that it didn’t hurt me one bit, whereas it usually would with his often rough style of making love. I can feel the veiny skin of his length against my gummy walls, gently clenching around him.

My hands rest on his chest with my head laying completely on his shoulder, putting every bit of my weight on him as he welcomed me with his arms wrapped around my waist, fingertips grazing up and down my skin every now and then, his touch so gentle yet with so much love beneath all those gentleness.

”How lucky I am to find such a hardworking woman like you..” He whisper with his lips pressed onto my ear, his hot breath fanning against my skin here and there while goosebumps appear on my skin from the touch of his hand on my back, stroking my skin with feather-like touches. Each touch of his skin on mine felt like a dream.

A small whine left my lips, “The luck is all on my side..” I manage to whisper back before I try to lift my hips up, only managing to lift it shortly before dropping back onto his length, my body choosing a lazy ride to our releases. “My man..” I mumble as I lift one of my hand from his chest to lay upon his cheek, my head leans in just enough for our lips to meet one another, the kiss was rather slow yet sloppy as well, tongues meeting and wrestling every here and there.

Still, I maintain my lame attempt of a ride, using the smallest effort to push my hips up. Yet he didn't complain one bit, James seemed to rather enjoy the slow ride, the proximity allowing me to catch onto his small breathy grunts, holding and stroking my lower back.

Now and then, I feel the tip of his cock gently nudge a spot in me, nudge- not hit, due to the lack of energy I put in riding him. Pulling back from the kiss, my head have made a comfortable stay on his shoulder, one of the hands I had on his chest came up to play with the choker and the wolf pendant that loops around his neck. His eyes were unavoidable. His gaze soft yet cutting right through me even when I'm not looking.

As time goes by, I stop trying to ride on him, giving up. Instead, I slowly grind my hips against his again and again, the friction pulling out a small whine from the back of my throat, "James.." I mumbled out his name, almost unconsciously. Anyone would mistake me to be sleeping with my half lidded eyes. But I'm just simply loving the moment.

"Close?" His voice whisper into my ear, pulling my hair away so he could have a clear view of my dazed face, leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek. "C'mon, angel. Release it. You deserve it.."

I let out a sigh as I force myself to open up my eyes and softly smile up at him. I can feel him throb inside me, as well as my walls clenching around his length. My hands were holding onto his broad shoulders as eventually I feel my orgasm control over me, warm fluids of my release gushing out and around his cock, triggering his own release which was soon shooted into me, his cum painting white all over my walls as we sat there, body still connected as one, soul forever united.

James wrapped his arms around me, slowly pulling me down with him on the couch to lay down, my head resting on his chest that acts like a pillow to me, his cock slipping out of my cunt with a pop. The last thing I hear before falling into dreamland being,

"Sleep tight, angel. Dream of me."

[finniestoncrane]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Doctor Spengler..."

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

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

"Which theory?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Would this be sufficient evidence?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh-ho... oh my."

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

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

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

"Do you want me to stop, Egon?"

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

"No. No. Absolutely not."

"Me either."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wait until the scientific community hears about that."

[toriisasimp]

Sleepy Scientific Method

Egon Spengler x Reader

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

You kept stock of all of them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Doesn’t work on me.” 

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

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

“Sorry if I woke you up.”

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

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

He shakes his head and looks down at the floor.

“Alright.. I won’t pry. For now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You ask, genuinely confused.

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

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

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

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

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

You already feel your eyes start to flutter.

“Do I have to-“

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

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

I’ve got you.

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

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

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

“May I?”

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

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

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

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

And you hear his gentle response,

“I won’t let that happen.”

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

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

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

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

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

Before sleep finally pulls you under.

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

-

<3

[ap41cu5]

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

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

Reverie or Reality

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just looks like regular fungus,” you commented.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“(First Name).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You just carry band-aids around?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lars sighed, taking one last worried glimpse at you.

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

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

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

But it was just so hard to focus.

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

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

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

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

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

Shit. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And if I do?” 

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

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

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

He quickly pulled back, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“What?” He asked, his head tilting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You beamed, “I would love that.”