#ray stantz fanfic

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery

warnings: swearing, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), dom/sub relationship

My hand roamed through rays hair as he pressed his face into my neck from behind. His arms were wrapped tightly around my waist. Dana and the rest of the orchestra were under the gazebo, playing as Winston danced with his spouse. We gently swayed as the music played, a small smile grew on my face as I felt ray kiss my neck.

“enjoying yourself?” I whispered. Ray nodded. “Words Raymond.” He chuckled and kissed my neck again.

“Yeah. This is nice.” He whispered back. “Reminds me of our wedding day.” A bigger smile tugged at my lips as I remembered the moment he was talking about.

“yeah. It does.” I agreed. Ray lifted his head to kiss me. “Makes me think about our wedding night.” Ray blushed, squeezing my waist slightly.

“a repeat of that night wouldn’t be terrible.” He said softly, eyes roaming over my face. I smiled at him and nodded.

“it wouldn’t.” I agreed. The music ended and the dj took over. “Do you think Winston would be pissed if we left early?” I turned in rays arms and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“I think he’d be more pissed if we snuck out. Or worse ended up in the bathroom.” Ray chuckled, swaying to the music. He moved his hands over my hips, pulling me closer against him. “One dance and we’re gone. How’s that?” I nodded and laid my head on his shoulder.

“funny that he had them play our song.” I said, running my fingers through rays hair. I twirled the ends around my finger, glad that it had grown out some since he’d had to cut it to get all the marshmallow out. Ray hummed, smiling softly at me before pressing a kiss to my head. “You dog!” I laughed, pulling away to look at him. I gently shoved his chest as I laughed. “How did you convince him?”

“I didn’t. Peter made a bet with egon that he’d leave before any of us did.” Ray shrugged. “Winston heard and well let’s just say we’re all tired of Peter winning all the time.” We both glanced over to where Dana was talking with the other musicians. Peter was fidgeting next to her, glancing at his watch every so often. I shook my head.

“let’s head out.” I said softly, pressing a kiss just below rays ear. “The song sure helps but I think the look on Peter’s face when you go to the firehouse tomorrow is worth it.” Ray grabbed my hand and we hurried over to Winston. He smiled at us and shook his head.

“and here I thought egon was going to leave first.” Winston laughed. He shook rays hand as his spouse looked on in amusement. “Alright. Just don’t be too smug about it tomorrow when egon splits the winnings. Have fun you two.” Winston winked at us before hugging me. Ray and I blushed and headed out hand in hand. I looked back over my shoulder once to see Peter’s pissed off face. I laughed and turned back towards ray when he looked over at me.

“you should have seen the look on venkmans face.” I said as we got into the car. Ray held my hand the whole drive home and eagerly pulled me up the stairs, fumbling slightly with the keys when we reached the door. “Take a breath ray. We have all night.” Ray slumped against the door slightly.

“that does not help.” He sighed, glancing at me. When he finally got the door open and had entered, I spun him around and pushed him against it. Ray gulped as the door slammed closed behind him. “You missed the door knob this time.” He breathed out, eyes blown wide and cheeks adorably flushed.

“good.” I muttered before using his lapels to pull him into a kiss. “The height on that thing is shit.” Ray chuckled as he dipped his head to kiss along my jaw.

“you’re telling me.” He said, smiling as he nipped along the skin. “Bottom or top tonight?” I was walking backwards, pulling him by his lapels, to our bedroom.

“I want you on top of me.” I breathed out, putting one hand on his cheek to draw his lips back to mine. I reached for rays tie and tugged it off, watching his hair bounce back into place. Ray gave me a goofy grin as he started to undress me. I pulled him back for a kiss as I started to unbutton his shirt, slowly moving my tongue into his mouth when his jaw dropped with a moan.

“fuck.” Ray whimpered as I pulled away. I smiled at him and ran my fingers through his chest hair. “I need you.”

“you have me baby.” I whispered. Ray shook his head, dropping to bury his head in my neck. “What do you need sweetheart? You need to tell me.”

“you.” Ray breathed out as I reached down to palm him through his dress pants. “I need you.” I squeezed him gently and ray moaned. “I need to fuck you. Feel you.” He moaned again, breaking off as I pushed down his pants and underwear. Ray mouthed at my neck, grazing his teeth against my collarbone.

“that’s it baby.” I moaned. “Tell me what you need. Tell me how to make you feel good.” I pushed my fingers through rays hair, pressing him closer to me as he took my pants off blindly.

“need to fuck you.” Ray said, pulling away. His mismatched eyes locked onto mine, wide and loving. “Need to come.” I cupped his cheeks and brought him down for a sweet kiss. Ray hummed as his hands started to roam, hovering over my body.

“touch me ray.” I breathed out. His hands made contact with my hips, fingers flexing against my skin. I breathed out through my nose harshly as ray started to slowly map my body. “Raymond. Please.” I sighed as he started to kiss along my jaw. “Fuck me baby.” Ray pulled back slightly and looked at me, love drunk and needy. I nodded at him and he lined himself up, eyes only flicking down for a second before he locked eyes with me again. My fingers were still tangled in his hair and I tugged gently as he entered me. We both moaned at the feeling as ray bottomed out.

“Jesus.” Ray breathed out. Moving my hands down to his shoulders, I pushed him down. Ray hesitated for a second while I encouraged him to settle more of his weight on me.

“I’ve told you before ray, it’s ok. I like your weight on me.” I said softly, scratching his scalp lightly. Ray nodded and laid down some, settling his weight on his forearms next to my head. As I pulled him in for another kiss, ray started to slowly rock into me. I moaned against his lips. Ray groaned as I titled my hips up to meet his. One of my hands trailed out of his hair and settled on his back, my nails occasionally digging into his skin as he picked up speed.

“(Y/N). Fuck.” Ray whimpered. My hand trailed lower and I squeezed his ass cheek as he thrust into me fully. Ray moaned, his head falling back at the feeling.

“feel so good baby.” I murmured, unable to take my eyes off him. “Almost there. You can do it. Fucking me so well.” I kissed his cheek as ray tried to duck his head again. “Make me come baby.” Rays breath hitched as he lost his rhythm, rutting into me with abandon. We both tumbled over the edge together, each of us moaning the others name. Ray collapsed on top of me and I wrapped my legs around his waist while my hand went to his hair. My other arm was wrapped around his shoulders tightly. Ray made a noise and kissed my neck.

“you ok?” He asked softly. I nodded, pressing a kiss to his head.

“yeah. Never better.” I said softly. “You ok?”

“never better.” Ray said, lifting his head and smiled at me. I smiled back as I ran my fingers through his hair again. “Love you.”

“love you too.” I said as I pulled him down for a kiss. “So much.”

[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."

[throwamurph]

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

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

[tumble-tv]

I honestly think that during their prime, the Ghostbusters business would have a full staff of ghostbusters, not just four middle aged men and Janine (bless her soul). Like, at least twenty other ghostbusters so that those guys could get some sleep. Day and night shifts, backup crews, duty crews, etc.

[mercy-erts]

"Ghosting"

AN:A drabble I wrote at 4am haha. Still trying to get the hang of writing stories for a fandom so apologizes if it seems out of character

Ray was no stranger to dreams, every dream meant something in a way, especially one dealing with the supernatural.

He saw them as signs, or perhaps they told of his current situation in a twisted and confusing way, a puzzle for him to solve and figure out.

But sometimes the puzzle was clear from the start.

It had been a week since Gozer was finally captured, the world saved once again from the destruction of the world. If only it didn't come at a cost, Ray watching his best friend, his companion fade away, finding peace of reuniting with his daughter and finishing his unfinished business. Yet Ray recalled he didn't feel that sense of peace yet.

He opened his eyes, finding himself in a dark area, forever casting him into a endless sea of midnight. Looking around allowed his mind to see where he was, the farmhouse, where Egon had stayed for who knows how long.

The silence was irritating, even his footsteps didn't cast a single echo in a seemingly empty world. Everything seemed the same as he saw it, as he walked closer to the door, reaching out for the door knob to see what held inside.

And when he opened it, the room felt colder, he felt cold.

The room felt twisted and warped, his memory foggy with how the inside looked. Still, a force was urging him closer, closer to a faint blue light casted in the living room. And upon reaching it, its like time itself froze.

Egon. Standing there in the same ghost form Ray last saw him in. Expect he couldn't see his eyes, his glasses frames showing an empty reflection instead. Ray stood there, staring at the empty husk he once called a friend.

"Egon." Ray started, disrupting that perfect silence. Ray swore he saw Egon flinch at the mere mention of his own name. He decided to take it slow, but it felt like there was so little time to even speak his mind.

"I'm sorry. Really I am, for not believing you, for just genuinely being such a terrible person." Ray managed to choke out, his voice raw just speaking. But Egon didn't respond, no movement or change in facial expression, staring into space like Ray was the ghost himself.

For some reason, that made Ray more upset.

"What do you want more than me apologizing? Do you want me to admit I was wrong, that I was in the wrong the whole time therefore making me the bad guy?!' He screamed, unable to control his body as he moved closer, trying grip onto anything- something to ground his emotions.

Ray looked into those cold empty eyes of Egon, gripping onto his arm as he demanded for a single answer. "Do you want me to say how much I loved you?" His voice was completly raw, as he blurted out the confession, but he knew that was too late.

But despite all that, Egon never got to hear those words.

Before he could even say anymore to somehow fix it, it felt like this world was crumbling around them, Ray watching as his vision became blurry, being pulled away from Egon.

The last he saw wasn't the ghost of his friend, but the lifeless corpse of him.

Ray sat up quickly, gripping his chest as he heaved heavily for air, as if he was suffocating for hours. After a few minutes, he managed to calm down, taking easy deep breaths to calm himself of his night terror.

That all it was, a night terror. Ray rubbed his face, a lump in his throat as he fought back those tears. He hadn't cried ever since he eaw Egon fade away.

"Im sorry.." he muttered, hoping maybe Egon would hear it, somewhere in the fabric of the universe.

But there wasn't a sign.

Maybe he should've said it sooner.

[amelia-mariee]

i use tumblr so much and for so many different things / interests / fandoms that i always forget the whole reason i started using tumblr was so that i could be a part of the online ghostbusters fandom a few years ago. i remembered this last night and i looked around and realized everyone i used to follow during that time either moved on or indefinitely closed their accounts. i’m seeing a lot of “updated 2 years ago”. is there still a ghostbusters fandom on here?? i can’t believe we all forgot about each other. i’ve had a lot of hyper fixations and been a part of a lot of fandoms but this one in particular is hard for me to get over for some reason. Guys, we were a COMMUNITY. WHAT HAPPENED

[faithiegirl01]

Y’all know what I wanna read? I wanna read a Ray Stantz hanahaki disease fic…

Like could you imagine it. No one thought it was a real thing, but reader (or maybe Ray could work either way…) come down with it. In fear of what the weird disease is they go to Egon for a little help in understanding it, but when he tells them it’s an unrequited love disease they panic.

Egon then continues to tell them that they can talk to the person and maybe just maybe it’s not one sided… but reader shakes their head not really believing that could be a possibility. Egon asks if he can know who it is to hopefully help more, but the person refuses to answer not wanting anyone to find out about and asks if there’s any other options. Of course Egon tells them the only other option is the surgery that would make them forget the person all together. The reader (or Ray…) immediately deflates and doesn’t know how what decision to make so slowly they start to distance themselves.

They weirdly start to feel better for a bit and so they do Egon about it, but he just shrugs and tells them it can be very unpredictable each person could go through it completely different. Then all of a sudden they again start feeling bad and it slowly gets worse so reader stays distanced. Bonus points if the reader is Peter’s little sister and so that could make her like another best friend to Ray. Like they could literally all be so close. Like could you just imagine the angst of it all?

My goodness it’d be so heartbreaking yet so beautiful to read especially if they end up together in the end. Like the angst and fluff vibes that could be added to it all.

I myself would write it, but like I have way to many WIPs in progress and can’t, but it’d definitely be a good read. Especially because technically in the Gohstbuster world that wouldn’t really be a real disease, but like it totally could just be like just something they just didn’t know was a thing.

[angstea]

i'm an expert just like you

Fandom: Ghostbusters

Series: Auctober 2024

<- Previous | Masterlist | Next ->

Summary: Phoebe asks about Egon

AN: Sorry this is a day late, had a show yesterday and I fell asleep as soon as I got home

This is a drabble and it's only dialogue

Title is from Touch Tone Telephone by Lemon Demon

Written for Auctober Day 24: Genetic

Read on AO3

"Dr. Ray."

"Yes, Phoebe"

"My grandpa. He was like me, wasn't he?"

"A scientist?"

"Well, yes. But that's not what I meant. I know he was a scientist."

"Then what are you asking me?"

"He was different."

"We all were. Believing in the paranormal tends to set you apart from the rest."

...

"Still not what you meant?"

"No."

"Explain it to me then."

"Even when I'm not doing something intelligent or talking about ghosts, I'm different. I can't talk to people without...getting things wrong or acting strange-"

"You can say autism. I know what it is."

...

"He was like you."

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery

prompts from @creativepromptsforwriting

prompts used:

“Can you be my girlfriend?” “I already am.” “Oh lucky me!” 

“You look almost as pretty as this moon.” “That’s a street lamp.” “And you’re almost as pretty.” 

“Oh, I think we haven’t met before.” “We have been in a relationship for five years now.” 

“Let’s get you home.” “Oh, mine or yours?” “Ours.” “Oh, wow!” 

“How many drinks did you have?” “Yes, yes I am.” 

warnings: swearing, drunk ray

AN: yeah that’s a lot of prompts. But u can’t tell me ray wouldn’t be the cutest cinnamon roll when drunk.

I laughed to myself as I headed into the firehouse. Egon had called me and practically demanded I come get ray. The entire first floor was covered in beer cans and streamers. The evidence of whatever party they had thrown lay all over the floor and the ecto. There was a noise from upstairs and I shook my head as I started to climb the stairs.

“come on. Just one more.” Peter was trying to get someone to give him something and I nearly gagged before seeing Peter trying to grab a beer can from egon.

“Peter, I cut you off ten minutes ago. You need to sober up some before I let you have this.” Egon said, holding the can above his head. I let out a surprised laugh as I saw ray climb onto the table to grab the beer can. Both egon and Peter turned to look at me as ray grabbed the can and jumped off the table with a triumphant grin even as he nearly fell to the floor. He started laughing as he cracked it open and started drinking.

“What the fuck did I walk into?” I asked, walking over to ray to help him up. He took my hand and stared at me as he slowly stood up. His eyes were wide and I recognized the look on his face. I blushed when he made an ‘o’ with his mouth.

”oh, uh, I don’t…I think we haven’t met before.” Ray said, eyes scanning my face. I smiled softly at him.

“Ray, sweetheart,” I giggled. “We’ve been in a relationship for five years now.” He started pouting, the look on his face making it clear he didn’t get it.

“Oh.” He said. “Can you be my girlfriend? If…if things don’t work out…” I looked down and squeezed his hand.

“Raymond, I already am.” I said, kissing his cheek to drive my point home. Rays eyes went comically wide, making Peter laugh behind us.

“Oh! Lucky me!” Ray squeaked out. I smiled at him. I shook my head as I turned back towards egon. He shook his head at the two of us as Peter collapsed on the couch with laughter.

“How many drinks did you have?” I asked. Ray gave me a dopey smile.

“Yes,” he said, grin growing. “Yes I am.” I sighed and shook my head at him.

“ray.” I sighed as I reached over and ran my fingers through his hair. Ray moved so he was standing behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. I hummed as he pressed closer to. “Egon?” The man in question raised his eyebrow at me. “How much as this one had to drink?”

“half a case.” I sighed and nodded. “His last beer was an hour ago though. Well before the theft of Peter’s.”

“it’s going to be a long night.” I breathed out as ray tightened his hold on me.

“I think you’re right.” egon agreed. “I’m not sending him home to Dana like this. But you’re more than welcome to take ray home.”

“thanks for the vote of confidence egon.” I laughed. He rolled his eyes at me.

“I just mean that ray is going to be the lovey dovey boyfriend times ten and you’re more than capable of dealing with that.” Egon tried to explain himself. “Peter on the other hand…” he trailed off as we watched Peter try to come on to a pillow. “I do not want to subject Dana to that at all.”

“agreed.” I laughed as I gently pried ray off me. “Night egon. Peter.” I took ray by the hand and started to lead him downstairs.

“Where are we going.?” Ray asked.

“let’s get you home.” I said softly.

“Oh,” ray muttered. He took a second to step through the door before I tightened my grip on him, making sure he wasn’t about to fall over before heading towards our apartment. “Mine or yours?”

“ours.” I chuckled. Rays eyes went wide again.

“oh wow.” He breathed out. “I get a long term girlfriend and an apartment in one night.” He mused, casting his eyes to the sky. I looped my arm through his to better help him walk and squeezed his bicep.

“yeah. Lucky you.” I laughed. Ray smiled up at the sky as we walked. When he nearly walked into a lamp post, I stopped him and cupped his cheeks to make him look at me. “Hey ray sweetheart. You need to watch where you’re going ok? I can guide you but you still need to help alright?” He nodded before looking back up. I chuckled as his dopey grin came back.

“You look almost as pretty as this moon.” He said, looking back at me. I giggled and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“ray, that’s a street lamp.” I said, running my fingers through his hair. He nodded, humming as he looked back up.

“yeah.” He said, looking at me again. “And you’re almost as pretty.” I shook my head with a smile before guiding him down into a kiss. Ray hummed happily as he kissed me back. “I feel like I keep lucking out tonight.” He breathed out as he leaned his head against mine.

“I keep thinking I’m the lucky one.” I said, gently scratching the back of his neck. Ray chuckled as a shiver when down his body.

“I think I’m sobering up some.” He said.

“well we can’t have that!” I laughed as he offered me his arm. We started walking back to the apartment again.

“yeah we can.” Ray said, leaning into me. “Sober is good.”

“you’re not wrong.” I said, leaning into him. “While I love drunk ray, I absolutely adore sober ray.” He smiled at me as we climbed up the stairs and headed towards our door.

[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

[tuliptired]

hi! can i request a egan x complete opposite reader? like someone so different like a model or actress of some sort

Uptown Girl

Pairings: Egon Spengler/Fem!Actress!Reader

sorry for looking at stantzler yaoi while this was sitting in my drafts

Better formatting on Ao3!

Peter could tell something was up with his friend. Something different from the norm. In the past handful of weeks, Egon’s turned into a fidgety, flighty mess. Misprinting calculations, misplacing tools- all in blue. He was wearing so much more blue. The reticent man never really had a favorite color, something Peter relearned everytime he probed him when bored, but this was just way too out of character. Egon? Color coordinating? Insanity.

He had a discarded newspaper open at his excuse for an office, spacing out while Ray messed around with Janine’s little TV, Winston holding a flashlight over it for him. She had won it when she was small, the faulty wiring spilling out the back panel a testament to its age. 

Janine sat up impatiently, folding her magazine. “It’s almost time Ray, is it working?” 

Ray dropped his pair of pliers. “It should be,” he said unconfidently, screwing the paneling back on as Winston adjusted the antenna. The machine crackled and popped, sounds and images cutting in and out as it gained and lost a signal.

The subject of Peter’s suspicions came down the stairs flinching at the noise, looking to pass and leave the firehouse but too intrigued by the feat of electrical engineering happening at Janine’s desk. “What’s this?” 

Peter’s eyes narrowed at the barely there sight of a shiny, new silver watch. Christ, were those blue diamonds? Everyone who’s regularly stepped foot into the firehouse has tried and failed at attempting to get Egon to upgrade his wristwear, the old brown thing that barely had an audible tick. Peter’s own seasonal gifts for him got fancier and fancier as the years went on, Egon turning down a Timex with an alarm at one point. He insisted that anything he could go out and buy would serve the same purpose as the beatdown leather already owned- regardless of needing to squint to see the arms.  

She opened her magazine back up again, fluttering through glossed pages until she found the right one. “You’ve heard of that one show, right?” Janine held up an advertisement for the program, promoting big guests like Madonna or Robin Williams. “I’ve been trying to catch the reruns-”

“And I’ve been trying to tell her that it ruins the integrity of the show.”

“If I wasn’t locked up in here every Saturday night, I wouldn’t have to. Don’t put down the receiver, Winston.”

Ray watched with his fist under his chin as the signal got closer and closer to whatever channel he had twisted the knob for. Janine sat up straighter, flipping to a different page. “Anyway, there’s a new actress on there, and I don’t wanna miss her.”

Winston leaned over to check if the screen was any clearer. “My sister showed me an article on her. Very fashionable.” 

“I know, her picture was on billboard on 46th,” Janine raved, “you’d like her, Peter.”

He shook his head, licking his pointer finger to get to a different section of the paper. “I’m more into musicians.”

Egon spoke up, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re mistaken, Peter. She’s an incredibly talented actress with an incredible repertoire.”

Looks were exchanged between all of them. If the elephant in the room was offended, he didn’t show it. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ray shrugged, “it’s just…she’s so..”

“Outgoing.”

“Witty.”

“Expressive.”

“And you’re you! Nothing wrong with it,” Ray patted his taller friend’s shoulder.

Egon looked at his colleagues blankly. “I can still enjoy her work, despite certain character differences.”

The TV finally got a stable connection, though not celebrated by anyone in the room as Egon’s anomaly took up all their attention. “I thought you didn’t have a television?” Winston questioned, moving the antenna again and losing the stream.

“I don’t.”

Peter raised an incredulous eyebrow to him from across the room. Something like a realization flashed behind Egon’s eyes, before he turned his eyes from their gaze and cleared his throat. “I’m going home early tonight. Call me if you need anything.”

That certainly didn’t do anything to soothe Peter’s speculation. Egon barely ever went home. If anything, the only reason he had an apartment to his name was because it was expected of him after graduating his last year of university. Even so, he was barely ever there, spending his nights slumped over in a lab- Columbia’s or otherwise. Peter would be surprised if the man was still paying rent.

Ray and Winston must’ve been carrying the same sentiment. “We’ll still be seeing you tomorrow, right Eges?”

 The man stood stiffly, as if under a spotlight. “Hopefully.” He was motionless, before grabbing Janine’s TV and scurrying out the door.

“Hey!”

Strange indeed.

Egon walked briskly under the fluorescent lighting of the hallway. It was almost 7, after all. A warm brown bag of Chinese food sat under his arm as he got closer to the rickety door. He hesitated to turn the key, hearing staticky music on the other side. When he did, there you were, surrounded by brown bags just like his and messing with the antiquated radio by his stovetop. It felt odd, and strangely smug, to have you in his tiny and bland apartment after his friends praised your stardom.

Your manicured fingers turned the volume down. “Sorry! It’s hard to entertain myself here when you don’t have a TV.” The same woman that was all over Times Square was here, in his kitchen, placing a kiss to his cheek. 

“I do now,” he juggled the boxy appliance before you took it from him gently.

“Where’d you get this? It’s adorable,” you smiled, inspecting it. He peered into the bags cluttering his limited counter space as he put down your dinner, some holding groceries and some with wrapped packages.

“A friend. What’re these?” Egon didn’t have to turn to you to see the guilty expression you had while he pulled out containers of takeout. You had a bad habit of buying him luxuries he never thought he would need.

You grabbed a few things from one of the sacks, opening his outdated fridge. “I know we agreed to you bringing dinner, but it’s just a few things for when you’re on your own.” He wrinkled his nose.

“I have food.”

Egon watched you teeter your palm back and forth, grabbing another bag and opening one of his cabinets. “What’s the point of eating-out if you never eat-in?” 

“You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble.”

He felt nice as you smiled at him, folding the discarded paper and tossing it in the bin. “You know I don’t mind.” It would’ve been a sweet moment, if there wasn’t another bag on the counter that caught his attention, which you scrambled to pull away. Before you could, he brought it to his lap, gazing down inside.

He pulled out different wrapped packages, labels from one of the most expensive department stores in the area. “Y/N.”

You put your hands up in defense, lowering yourself into the stool across from him.  “I know, I know. But, look!” You leaned over, showcasing one. “New curtains! And there’s a watch in there, somew-here.”

Egon’s eyes nearly popped out when he found a little box, forgotten at the bottom, with a price tag higher than what two ghostbusters made in a week. “You have to return this,” he decided, hardly opening it before snapping it shut.

“You don’t like it?”

“I do. I appreciate you getting it. But you can’t keep spending your money on me.”

You knelt on your hand, disappointment clearly subsiding as you used the other one to open up the food. “It doesn’t make a difference to me. I was in that area, anyway.”

He passed you a plastic fork. “How come?”

“I had an appointment with my dress guy,” you started. He’d be embarrassed to admit it, but it took him an abnormally long time to realize that you were referring to the people you regularly bought things from, rather than lightly suggesting a polyamorous relationship. “And he showed me the finished product for Friday! Isn’t it exciting?”

You produced a print from your purse, handing it to him with a bright smile. It was a dress on a mannequin- very bold, very you, and very blue. “It is.” Egon grinned sincerely, admiring the idea. “Very beautiful.”

You stabbed your fork into a vegetable, seemingly forlorn as he put the photo aside. “It’s a shame you’ll only get to see it on TV. Unless, you wanna be my date,” you perked.

Egon could feel himself frown. In any other world, he would be at your side every hour of every day- every interview, airing, or red carpet appearance. But he was still Egon, through and through. So you compromised on “waiting until the right time” to make your relationship public.

“Not this time,” he avoided looking at you. You were understanding, you always were, but he could imagine how irritating a constant no could be.

He jumped as your head hit the countertop. “You’ll let everyone know at the wedding,” you groaned. Egon moved to console you, worried about having hurt your feelings, before your head snapped back up.

“Kidding.” He let out a sigh he couldn’t recall holding in. “You wanna be there when I get ready? You could help me with the zipper,” you leaned forward, voice teasing him. He couldn’t refuse.

“Of course,” Egon smiled, before it fell. “I’m sorry. That I keep telling you no.”

You shrugged, waving him off. How undeserving he was, to be loved by someone so forgiving. “I know. You’re an interesting guy, Egon. It’ll happen when it happens.” You had his hand in yours, brushing his knuckles as you looked on at each other earnestly.

Something caught your attention, breaking eye contact, Egon shrinking at the loss of connection. You turned in your seat to the rest of the apartment. “I never told you! I noticed you started decorating!”

It was a small place, only one bedroom and older than most people Egon’s age would be proud of. When he first moved in, the only things he took the liberty of situating were: a bed, a chair, various papers and books and scientific projects. It was more a storage space, rather than one to live in. He dawned on this the first time you offered to have him over, realizing that he’d have to return the favor- after picking up a bit. It’s not much right now, save for more furniture and ambience, but there was always something new whenever you visited. “After you told me it had the feng shui of an asylum.”

“Then we both have something to work on.”

“What was this doing in the mail this morning?” Peter bounded the steps to the second tier of the firehouse. Ray and Winston were trying their best to pick up around the kitchen, while Egon was hunched over his workbench, jittery and unorganized. Whatever he was keeping from them, it did a good job at keeping him from work. This would’ve been a nice change for the doctor, if it didn’t mean Peter had to be alert for any sudden fires.

He passed the booklet to Winston, whose eyes widened like a cartoon as the centerfold unfurled into two more pages. “Holy…”

“Maybe it’s Janine’s?” Ray proposed, cheeks pink as he clumsily folded them back up.

Her voice called up from downstairs, before the front door slammed shut. “I don’t read that brand, and if I did I wouldn’t be working here.”

That left the three men, standing in tense silence. Not Peter, he was tasteful with his filth- tucked away in the hidden part of his filing cabinet. 

“Why would one of us order something like this in the mail?”

Peter gently took it from Winston. “Alright, no need to embarrass anyone. My mail is your mail is your mail is my mail.”’ He jumped to a random page, settling into the couch. “We’re all friends here.”

Ray and Winston hesitantly crowded around him, unabashedly eager to view what was inside. Egon, however, was frozen at his desk, lab coat halfway off.

“Donna Rice stuns in a poolside photo…Madonna looks nice here…” The professor was a second away from crumpling. Schadenfreude.

Ray shrugged one of his shoulders, leaning over the armrest. “Some of these aren’t so bad,” he admitted. 

Peter let out a low whistle. “Here’s the girl you like so much, Spengs. Orange dress.” Egon rose then, a bit less catatonic as he shrugged his lab coat off, back to his friends.

“She wouldn’t wear orange this season. Or any season. It doesn’t pair well with anything and it washes her out.”

Peter blinked. Not the angle he was looking for, but a good psychologist never quits when they’re ahead. “Did she tell you this?”

Egon visibly hardened, turning to face them. “No. In a 1986 interview with People, in the second paragraph of the 12th page, she said she’d never wear anything long and orange at the same time.”

Peter slowly revealed the page to him, speaking even slower. “Sorry, superfan. She was wearing green.”

The professor only stared, before clearing his throat and fixing his clothes a bit, Ray and Winston silent at Peter’s side as he rolled up the print. “I’m leaving for the night. And I’m taking the car.”

He was halfway out the room before Ray stuttered, taken aback. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you drive, Spengs.”

“And you can’t take the car.” Peter chided

Egon stilled on the staircase. “I have the keys. And there aren’t any jobs in the morning- you can do without it. Goodnight.”

Peter tapped the shiny paper against his palm a few times, turning to the men at his side. “He’s either selling drugs, or he’s trying to ditch us."

Sure, Egon wasn’t much of a driver. But he’d make the commute if he wanted to see you. Eventually, streets lined with skyscrapers and taxis melted into roads lined with starlight and trees as he carefully recalled the directions to your house just outside the city, surrounded by woodlands. He knew you'd wouldn’t be back until late in the night, so he was content busying himself with your chores until the sounds of a Mustang screeching to a halt in your driveway peeled him away from the last dish in the sink.

Egon carefully peeked out one of your windows, watching as you jumped out the backseat of the hastily parked car. “I probably just left a light on! One sec!” Your door handle jiggled with the turn of keys, before you poked your head in, voice low.

“Wanna say hi?”

He politely declined, and you were halfway out the door again, waving goodbye to your friends, before they skidded off into the night. Your home was a stark contrast to his own, decorated and personable without becoming clumsy. But, many a night you’d crooned to him over the phone about how empty it can get. So, there he was.

“You didn’t have to come all this way,” Egon felt you mummer against his back, arms wrapped around his middle while he finished wiping down the edge of the sink, light fragrance mingling with the smell of dish soap. You always smelt good, after a night out.

“I wanted to. Did you have fun?” he inquired, hearing you hum as you peeled yourself from him, lurking towards the stairs.

“As much,” Egon bent behind you to collect your discarded shoes, “as I could have.”

He caught the earrings you pinched off from your earlobes. ‘They didn’t show you a good time?”

You paused in front of your bedroom door, waiting for Egon to open it, which he did. “It was a great time- I love premieres.” You lowered yourself onto the large mattress, calling out to him as he went into the master bathroom to start a bath. “But, I think you know very well why I wanted to come home.”

“I wonder,” he mused chaffingly, sitting behind you on the bed. His favorite night time routine, whenever he was around after you successfully painted the town red. The events and invitations just got bigger and bigger, increasingly extravagant the longer he knew you. Here he was, getting farther and farther over the hill. In spite of it all, he liked taking care of you, especially when you were wearied from an evening of fun.

You leaned forward as he gently unclasped the jewelry from around your neck, careful not to bust the fastener. “I’m happy you’re here now, Egon.” he heard you coo tiredly and softly. Egon pressed a devoted kiss to the nape of your neck where the metal had lay, drawing out a delighted laugh from underneath him.

“Then I’m glad I came.”

Both of you just sat there, warmth against warmth until Egon remembered that your faucet was still running. He took to unzipping the back of your gown. “Is it safe to assume my friends are becoming suspicious of me?”

“Oh yeah? What’re they doing?” you pondered, helping him as you stepped out of the pooling fabric.

“Pictures of you. Peter got a hold of one of your spreads.” Egon mulled. He carefully collected the material, laying it out on a chair in front of your expansive closet. He really appreciated those photographers, any other time. Particularly, when you weren’t available for so long.

Another thing he enjoyed about nights like these- you in your underclothing. Oh, guilty pleasures. But the sight vanished into the bathroom almost as soon as he took it in. “Did you tell them I was your outgoing, witty and expressive girlfriend?” 

Egon couldn’t help but follow you. “They seemed to have come to that conclusion on their own.” Egon stood against your sink while you sunk into the water- he knew you were pretty clean, but a washroom floor was still a washroom floor.

“I’m sure you have them fooled.” you guessed, leaning on the edge of the tub.

“I think so. But-” he noticed the look you were giving him. “You’re being sarcastic.”

He let you laugh at his expense, handing you various soaps from the caddy above. He’d been meaning to get a similar bottle to keep at his place, if you were ever willing to spend the night. What would your people say- if you didn’t come around when they were expecting you to? “And you? What do your friends think?” Egon queried. 

“They’ve been onto me. And they tell me: ‘bring him around sometime- one night can’t hurt,’” you teased. “There’s a blue suit to go with my dress waiting for you, if you really want.”

Egon felt so defenseless as you gazed up at him, extending the same invitation you’d been extending time and time again. Reservations be damned. The greatest person he knew was letting him spend a night in their arms- and he’d be anything but himself if he let the opportunity slip away again.

“I’ll go.”

“What?”

“On Friday. I’ll go with you. If you’ll have me.”

You beamed, sitting up and leaning impossibly close to him as he let himself kneel against the porcelain. “Oh, Egon! I could kiss you!” Your wet skin dripped onto the dainty rim.

“Why not?” he teased. Before the question could leave his lips, you had the end of his tie in your hand, nearly dragging him into the bath with you.

He could barf. Absolutely lose his cool in the back of this expensive car, or in front of all your famous friends. As happy as Egon was to experience a slice of your life with you, his nerves were on fire. He must’ve seriously underestimated the turnout of this thing- reality settling in as a number of stylists flooded your house as the evening approached. He felt the embrace of your hands on his jaw, as you made him look at you.

“You don’t have to talk to anyone, if you don’t want to. Just keep holding my hand.” You were glowing. “And- you look great. But…something’s missing,” you muttered. He swallowed hard, dreading what he managed to leave behind. He was breathless as you left a quick kiss off the center of his lips, laughing as you parted. “There,” you giggled.

“Mr. Spengler? There’s a call for you.” the hostess told him, peeling him away from the table of A-listers. As he answered the phone by the kitchen, he could recognize a familiar, angry voice.

“Egon Spengler.”

“Hello, Janine.”

The floodgates opened, and he could practically hear her nails digging into the desk. “I could rip your head off. Is that where you go all day? Hanging out with gorgeous celebrities? Why didn’t you tell us? You’re sitting at dinner with Mel Gibson! You should’ve introduced me. Why didn’t you introduce me? I would’ve killed to meet her- if I had met Einstein I would’ve introduced you. What’s next- you’re having tea with Cher? You disappear for weeks at a time, and we have to watch a tiny TV screen to find out you’re at an award show with a red lipstick stain on your face? You-”

“I’m sorry to cut this so short, Janine. But my wonderful girlfriend has an accolade to accept.”

[trans-donniedarko]

Aleksandr's Introduction!

- i have a partner that I love very much

- i'm polyamorous

- i'm trans ftm

- director, writer, Dan Aykroyd enthusiast

- borderline

- advocate for cluster b awareness

♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

FANDOMS:

Saturday Night Live

The Blues Brothers

Supernatural

Barry

IT (1990), (2017), (2019)

Scream 1-5

The Lonely Island

Ghostbusters (1-5)

The Real Ghostbusters

Teen Wolf

Saturday Night (2024)

House MD

DCU

Brokeback Mountain

THINGS I WILL WRITE:

light NSFT

agere (SFT ONLY)

angst

fluff

ships

x reader

x oc

disabled reader

plus size reader

neurodivergent reader

gender neutral reader

fem reader

masc reader

THINGS I WILL NOT WRITE

NSFT beyond making out

anything illegal

anything morally wrong

romanticization of mental illness

st4lking

yandere

OTHER THINGS I MAY POST ABOUT:

bpd awareness

npd awareness

hpd awareness

aspd awareness

my trans journey

polyamory

movie reviews

THANK YOU FOR READING

[ewsean]

As an active validation seeker, I wanted to post my current WIP for an upcoming Ghostbusters cross Spiderman fic? I've never once written Fanfic before (at least that I can remember?) and I wanted to take it to Tumblr to get the general community opinion. Fic Intro / Snippet Below !! (Is this something you'd be interested in reading? Feel free to ask question about it too ?? I'm just here to share my shit really LOL)

Raymond Stantz was your normal New York student. No really, he was! He attended Columbia University, went out on the weekends with his friends, worked an honest part-timer down at a Comic Book Store about a subway’s stop away from his dorm. He was all completely normal- normal bar one thing.

He was New York’s one and only Spiderman.

And while you’ve probably heard that a lot before, Ray Stantz really was New York’s one and only Spiderman, and had been since he was 15 when an unfortunate incident had happened during an after-school science experiment that had gone wrong. He’d told himself to never feed untested food to insects without studying the ingredients, but curiosity got the best of him, and the rest was history.

It was less than ideal, really. It wasn’t like he had chosen this life. It was almost like destiny, or fate, as his close friend Peter would tell him. That was another thing that was less than ideal- Peter’s involvement. Ray had sworn to himself to never tell anyone, not even his parents, out of fear they thought he was absolutely nuts, or worse, got affected by his status as a ‘Hero’. Friends had been hard to keep throughout his High School life, despite his outgoing and bubbly personality. College wasn’t any different, until he hit the jackpot with one Peter Venkman. Peter would claim Ray attached himself to him, but truth be told, it was the other way around.  They found themselves as roommates in the first year and grew closer as friends the longer they spent together. It was hard to keep his secret identity hidden from his incredibly nosy friend, and it was only a matter of time before Peter found him out. All he could do was pray it wasn’t anytime soon. It was probably because Ray didn’t believe in any higher power that his prayers did not get answered, and three months into their friendship the bomb was dropped.

“Didn’t take you as a midnight bachelor, Stantzie.” Came Peter’s smooth and sleazy voice in the dark. Ray froze in his spot, one foot halfway through the window of their bathroom. It may be dark, but Ray swears he can see the mischievous twinkle in Pete’s eyes as his shit-eating grin expands, “Nice costume. Wanna tell me where you’ve been?”

Part of Ray thoroughly believes that if he stands still long enough holding his breath, Peter will get bored of waiting for an answer and fall back into his bed to sleep the night away. There’s no luck in this though, as his best friend’s voice carries through the air, accusatory, “Stop holding your breath, idiot. I can see you. I’m not mad.”

That was a good thing, at least? Ray was clutching at positives here, because in this very moment, all he could see was negative scenario after negative scenario. He always had had a problem with acting impulsively and dreading to deal with the consequences of his actions afterwards. “Stantz.” It’s met with silence. “Ray. Raymond, hello? Come on, you’re going to fall over.”

Well, if Peter wasn’t going to let this slide, he might as well let his body fall with the sweet release of gravity, finally pulling his other leg inside the building from the window and collapsing onto the floor in a large heap, softly groaning out at the abrupt hit of the ground.

“You’re a moron, you know that, right?” “Yeah .. You tell me every few days, Pete. I can’t forget.” Ray responds, though his words are muffled and it causes Peter to strain his hearing, finally getting up from his bed to pad into the bathroom where his friend laid, defeated. 

For a moment, they sat on the bathroom floor together, each contemplating what to say next. There were a lot of words that needed to be exchanged, but neither man could quite figure out how to get them out. For once in his life, Peter Venkman was stunned into silence. Ray would not be the first to speak first, subconsciously zip-locking his lips and throwing the key away into some dark cavern of his brain. The burden fell to Peter to speak once more.

And speak he did.

“So … I gotta’ find a new favourite Hero now that I found out mine was you after all this time.” 

Why was he like this .. ?

“Spiderman’s your favourite?” Ray asks, hopeful, chin tilting upwards just enough to peer out from the crook in his arms that he’d buried his head previously into to avoid Peter’s expectant look. 

“Was. Remember, I just said I needed to find a new one.” Ray knows Peter’s only joking, because he says it with that light tone of his and his eyebrows soften, a look Peter reserves for Ray and a handful of other people. With a study pat on his shoulder, Peter is up and hauling Ray to his feet, “Alrighty, pal. Let’s get you to bed. Seems like it’s been a rough night.” Ray can only snort. If Pete had any idea what he’d gone through. 

“Yeah. Thanks Pete, we’ll talk more about this in the morning.”

But they never did. Not like Peter hadn’t tried; In fact, it had become almost a daily occurrence. Ray couldn’t leave the dorm room without being asked where he was going, who he was seeing, or what trouble New York City had found itself in. Even waking up for class early, or to go study with a few of his classmates, Peter was hot on his tail, ready to catch any action that arose. The action never arose, though, at least not in Peter’s vicinity. And at least, not for a good three weeks.

[bixiebeet]

Peter pulled out two tickets from his pocket. “I won these in a charity raffle. A spa and dinner at a place on Fifth Avenue. Free champagne, too.”

“It sounds swanky,” Ray replied. “But I’m busy.” He always booked himself a hotel room to spend Valentine’s Day watching romantic comedies, ordering room service, and eating fancy chocolates. Some years he had a date. Other years he was solo. Either way, this ritual made him happy.

“Uggghhhh,” Peter groaned. He’d only donated $5 to the local animal shelter for the raffle tickets, so he wasn't upset about losing money if he didn’t use the prize. But he couldn’t believe how hard it was to give away a nice holiday package.

Then he had an idea. While Ray and Winston unpacked the Ecto, Peter ran upstairs to Egon’s lab. A few moments later, he ran back downstairs to Janine’s desk.

Peter slammed one ticket down beside Janine’s computer. He had a genius way to split the prize. “You take this for the spa treatment,” he panted, still out of breath from the running up and down. “I told Spengler to use the dinner voucher. You can both enjoy it, and you won’t even have to see each other! Just show up at different times for different parts of the prize.”

Janine was surprised. It wasn’t like Peter to give her a gift—she could barely get his approval to take the vacation time that she’d earned. But spa time sounded nice. She’d gladly take it.

Working on a new fic that will be posted soon! Even if it’s after Valentine’s Day. The ship remains afloat!!