#Winston zeddemore x reader

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭

↳ warning: supernatural elements

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

↳ song: ghostbusters—ray parker jr.

masterlist | commisions | carrd

This really wasn't supposed to happen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Uh guys?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

"So—" Peter cleared his throat.

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

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

"Assholes."

[bella-goths-wife]

How you get the ghostbusters back for trapping you

Warnings: reader is super petty, non canon events, the guys are assholes in this, aggression

After being trapped for three months in that stupid ghost trap, you are severely pissed off with the ghostbusters

You’d spend months beforehand innocently haunting them and building individual bonds with them

All for them to take your one mistake as reason to punish you, you never meant to hurt Dana so why were you punished so severely

You, being as stubborn and strong willed as you are, expected them to be begging for forgiveness considering what they put you through

But they all acted like everything was going to go back to the way it was before, they didn’t even offer you the slightest apology for what they did

This did not bode well with you

In fact, it only seemed to enrage you further

You started off with your usual pettiness, but it lacked your standard playful style and just came off malicious

But the ghostbusters still found a way to make it a joke

You would mess with Egon’s lab equipment and experiments, but he’d just laugh it off in an Egon fashion and then suggest to your invisible figure that the two of you play chess again like you used to do so you could get your anger out

You’d hide the traps Winston was cleaning and storing in ridiculous hiding places, but Winston would just laugh and ask if you were playing hide and seek again

You’d turn off and change Ray’s music on his radio to something aggressive, but the only reaction you received was Ray joking that your music taste had definitely changed since you last played music together

Whenever Venkman would read the crossword prompts out to you and hold his pen out expectingly, you would write profanity in all the gaps

But venkman only sarcastically commented that “that’s definitely doesn’t fit the hint”

It infuriated you, they turned your anger into a joke and treated you like a pet who did a cute trick instead of a (spirit) person

You started to retract yourself from showing your presence to them out of embarrassment that your anger and their reaction caused you

You felt like an embarrassed child who had just been scolded rather than someone who underwent a painful and traumatic process of your spirit being caged to a small confined trap

You stopped showing yourself and kept to yourself next to janine’s desk so you could listen to her conversations on the phone as your only source of entertainment

You even tried to leave the ghostbusters HQ but found yourself unable to leave the building without attaching yourself to a human person, and you weren’t going to follow any of the ghostbusters around anymore

Despite janine working for the ghostbusters and Dana being the reason you were put in the trap, you never treated them unkindly

You understood them both and you knew that your anger wasn’t directed at them and they were just coincidental bystanders

You let your anger simmer but eventually it bubbled over the top

You heard the boys joking that soon you’d be over your “tantrum” and would come back to hang out with them

They joked about how they could ever think you were dangerous when all you’ve pulled are childish stunts

You felt yourself twist and twitch in anger and embarrassment as you heard them mock your very real emotions as if you weren’t once breathing like them

You decided that if you were originally going to be labelled as dangerous, then you would become dangerous to them

Instead of messing with Egons equipment to ruin his test results, you’d smash it to pieces and throw them at him

Instead of hiding the traps that Winston was cleaning and storing, you’d smash them to pieces and release the spirits inside to cause chaos in the HQ

Instead of messing with the radio of the car that Ray was cleaning, you’d blast loud screaming music in his ears before smashing the windows of the car

Instead of writing profanity on Venkmans crosswords, you tore his office apart and disposed of important documents before writing “fuck you ghostbusters” on his desk

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and you were living (dead) proof of that

Your anger infected you and turned you violent in a way you hadn’t been in your entire stay with the ghostbusters

And the ghostbusters weren’t sure what to do

They didn’t want to put you back into a trap considering that’s what caused this mess in the first place, and they missed you dearly when you were gone

But your aggression was getting out of hand

They decided that the best plan of action would be to find out more about your life when you were alive to appeal to your human side

And until they found something they could use, they had better get better at dodging thrown items…..

[tuliptired]

He's Good People Ch.2

Chapter 2: We Could Steal Time, for Just One Day (We Can be Heroes)

Pairing(s): Gn!reader/Ray, Gn!reader/Egon, Gn!reader/Winston

Summary: (Egon centric) You get to spend most of the day with the quiet scientist, as per his out of character invitations.

Warnings: talk of having a baby, though reader biology is never specified

Thank you for all the support so far!

read it on Ao3!

 There was a soft light hitting your eye, lulling you back awake. You were safe, in your own bed, in your own house, about to go to work.

Oh. These aren’t your sheets. This was not your house. You sat up. Ray was still asleep, curled up in extra blankets beside you. You looked around, Peter and Winston were motionless, the clock reading 7:22. Egon’s bed was empty.

Normally, you didn’t wake up in beds that weren’t yours. Normally, you didn’t wake up in beds that weren’t yours in houses that weren’t yours. Normally, you didn’t wake up in beds that weren’t yours in houses that weren’t yours that belonged to some men you had only just met. And you don’t wear their spare clothes, and sleep in close enough proximity that you can hear their snores catch in their throats. You ran a hand over your face. It all felt so shameless. Not respectable. What were you doing?

The door opened softly and Egon stepped in, holding a stained piece of fabric. He appeared to have showered and dressed in the earlier hours of the morning, and he pulled a drawer open for a new tie. You felt awkward in his space, as he went about his business. Thankfully, he broke the silence.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning…sorry, Ray told me I could sleep in here.” You unconsciously pulled the sheets over yourself, despite the fact your body was fully covered in baggy sleepwear built for the physique of a 50 year old firefighter.

“I don’t mind.” He pulled a tie out and examined it.

“You didn’t sleep?” You ask idly. His fingers made ease of the garment, smoothing it out.

“I’m fine.” He looked over at the sleeping forms of his friends, dead to the world. “They won’t be up for a while. It’s a Sunday.” He paused for a bit, pondering something, shutting the drawer.

“Would you like breakfast?” The question takes you by surprise, but the emptiness in your stomach is starting to ache.

“If it’s not too much trouble.” He freezes up, as if he didn’t expect your answer. He blinks, gears turning, the offer coming out beyond his own volition. Egon shakes his head slightly, as if wiping a thought away. He and Ray had habits of doing that, you noticed.

“None at all.” He starts out the room. When he reaches the kitchen space, he stands there for a moment, hands at his sides. Robotically, he pulls out eggs, butter, sugar, and a few other things from the fridge, managing to lay them all out methodically, in an organized chaos.

You feel a bit rude, just standing there. “Is there any way I could help?” You unconsciously roll up the sleeves of the sweatshirt.

Egon keeps working, mixing something intently. “No.” You blink. Hesitantly, you move to sit at the table somehow feeling a little ruder. As Egon notices you pulling a chair out slowly so as to not disturb him, he sighs, slowing his work.

“Not because I think you’d be inadequate. I just have a system.” He lit a pan on the stove, pouring a small amount of oil into it.

“A system for pancakes?” 

“Mrs.Stantz taught me how to make them in graduate school.”

You got a little thrown at that. “Mrs…Stantz?”

A silence. His arms are suspended in the air, batter flowing into the hot pan. “Ray’s mother.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. He held one.

“Your parents never taught you to cook?” You try to alleviate some of the palpable tension still in the air.

“My parents were fans of quark on their gruel,” is all he said. “But. The Stantz family was different. They…put sugar in their coffee. Had big ‘sundee’ dinners.”

He seemed to think hard before speaking again, measuring each word like they could betray him. “Mrs. Stantz told me that…cooking for others was a way of saying you wanted them to live.”

That’s why he offered. You could smile at that. In the short time you knew him, you’d gathered that he didn’t seem as skilled as his friends in the ways of sociability. You really didn’t know him as well as you’d liked- he hadn’t shown you much, but you could appreciate the gesture. 

“Thank you, Dr. Spengler.” He stilled again, ever so slightly. You hadn’t noticed until then that the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Maybe you ought to call him that more often? If you planned on sticking around. You didn’t know what your plan was anymore

There was a comfortable silence as he continued to work, diligently managing pancakes in one pan, potatoes and eggs in another. After a while, he pulls a small container out from the back of the fridge. 

“Do you feel strongly about mushrooms?”

“Do you want me to?” 

“These are top shelf. The Hennessy of the mycology world.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Eventually, he was plating food for the two of you, potatoes and eggs (with Hennessy mushrooms) on one half, steaming pancakes on the other. Before you could smile and thank him, he stops you.

Swirling around a small pitcher one final time, he carefully crouches at the front of the table. A light, yellowish liquid pours out of it and slathers onto the pastry, making you unknowingly drool.

With delicate precision, he adds a heap to his own. When he decides it's enough, he takes a seat, gesturing for you to start. You take a bite and…

Good god, this was the best thing you’ve ever tasted. The pancakes were cooked thoroughly, the texture of it all feeling like clouds in love on your tongue. The mysterious syrup was the best part- it was homely, and almost like a candy that melted down your throat. You stared up at Egon in disbelief as you swallowed.

“Holy cow” 

‘More or less. Buttermilk syrup”

It's safe to say you dug in, making quick work of the stack that was once on your plate. Wiping your mouth, you had to sing his praises. He had the slightest hint of an indulgent smile, watching you eat. One of pride, maybe?

 “These are incredible, Dr. Spengler. What do I have to do to get Ray to give me the recipe?” You asked earnestly. To that, his smile quickly fell, and he hastily dismissed the idea.

“Don’t bother. His mother says I’m the only one who can replicate them.” He speaks as if you’re discussing nuclear codes. “Besides, I’ve got it memorized.”

“Are you willing to share?”

“I’d have to kill you.”

You made pleasant conversation for a while, even after both your plates had been cleared. Nursing a pot of coffee, he recalled something. 

“Your bag ended up in the laundry chute. Here.” But he misjudges how secure the latch was- and as he holds on to the wrong part the contents spill onto the table. The worn, brown bag of candy from the day prior rips, and Crunch Bars, hard candies, and fruit chews tumble out in front of you. Embarrassment engulfs you as you apologize, just short of lunging over the table to clean up the mess, detesting how weird you must look carrying around a bag that had nothing but sweets. 

He helps you rather the treats up wordlessly, before handing you one of the many blue wrapped chocolate bars.

“Would it be optimal to keep candies in my flight suit?” He voiced.

“Don’t patronize me,” your face burns still, your hands crumpling up the paper packaging.

“I’m serious. It would keep my blood sugars high.”

“Go for it, Dr. Spengler.” You grinned, sliding him a Crunch Bar. Something twinkled behind his eyes. Was this the first time you noticed that he and his arms looked strong, under all that clothing?

“Hey noise machines. You woke us up.” Peter stands in the doorway, Winston and Ray behind him sleepily.

“Sorry,” you pardoned yourself. Like a pack of bears, the men made their way to search for the delightful smell that was wafting towards them from down the hallway.

“Don’t be. I’ve never heard the professor talk so much so early,” Winston yawned.

“Hey! You left us with the dishes!” Ray whined, holding up the dirtied mixing bowls and oily skillet. 

“There’s raisin bran in the pantry.” Egon conducted you out of the room. He had you follow him back to the bedroom, stopping at the door to think to himself. You were used to it at this point. He emerged, with a light blue sweater and an unworn pair of track pants. 

“I’m assuming you’d like to shower now. Here’s a change of clothes-” His voice got a bit worried at the end as you thumbed through the garments, musing at a dark blue fabric sandwiched between what he had handed you.

He couldn’t meet your eyes, his pupils darting in different directions. He fumbled with his folded hands. “They’ve never been worn. It was either those or long johns.” He shuffles past you, in a hurry to leave you be.

Opening up the pile, you see a dark blue pair of boxers, making your face ignite with embarrassment. It's the thought that counts?

“Dr. Spengler!” You call over your shoulder.

He’s halfway down the hall. “...Yes?”

“Thank you.”

He nods, and disappears into the corridors of the firehouse.

The showers are in one large bathroom, reminiscent of a locker room. A wall of sinks and mirrors, opposite a wall of spacious shower space, where curtains separate each showerhead. Well, you´re already there. There's a small bottle of coconut body wash staring you down as you do your business. Of course a little bit wouldn't be missed right? It's a lot more liquid than you expected- and that ´little bit´ went a long way. As you exit the shower careful not to slip on the slick tile, the coconut scent wafts into your nose pleasantly.

You stared at the pile of clothes neatly folded on a bench, like it's a dragon to be slain. In a way, it was. You pulled on the boxers- they fit better than you thought. Ignoring how the image in the mirror made you feel. As your skin still dried, you felt the blue sweater in your hands. The knitwear was delicate in your palms, the yarn a bit worn. It felt more personal than the spare loungewear left in the basement. It felt like a person. 

 It was fairly large, dwarfing your body. The fibers carried a similar coconut and sandalwood smell that the soap had, making your body feel protected. There were the sweatpants, too, but whatever. They weren't like this. 

You left your pajamas in a neat pile as you dropped it down one of the laundry chutes, hoping your undergarments didn´t tumble out into the open. As you crept down the stairs, Janine was working at her desk while Winston gave Ray a hand repairing the Ecto-1. You sat with her for most of the morning, as she insisted on your presence as she handled clerical work and gossipped simultaneously. The 2 men listened to your conversations fondly. 

“You smell nice,” Janine commented questioningly.

It was around 12 when a woman walked into the firehouse holding a baby, greeted by Ray and Winston while they worked on the underside of the car. Winston seemed a little less enthusiastic as he held the bright hot flashlight.

"Hi Dana. This is Peter´s keeper,” Janine filled you in. The woman, Dana, gave you a kind smile. "The little bald one is Oscar."

The baby sat patiently, if not curiously, in her arms, a hand in his mouth. Dana joked at him to say hi, and he blew a small raspberry in response.

“He's adorable," you cooed, letting instincts take over as he reached out for your finger, which you gave to him. "How old?”

"10 months, and already very handsy." Dana bounced him in her arms as he tried to replace the hand in his mouth with your own. "Is Peter around?

"Somewhere." Janine yelled for him, and he beckoned for her to give him a second. Egon emerged at that point, wondering what all the noise was. His features relaxed at the sight of the infant.

"Hi, Egon." Dana greeted him, as he stood peering at the mother and her child.

"May I hold him?"

She blinked, a little dumbfounded. "I thought you said babies carried pathogens detrimental to your lymphatic system?" Oscar seemed very interested in him.

"Normally." He held his arms out, expectantly. Dana slowly concedes, and he takes the baby awkwardly. Oscar didn't seem to mind the weird angle, held almost like a freshly caught fish on his back. He kicked his feet and stretched his arms out, and Egon looked as if he was scared to move.

You laughed, though partially concerned for his stability. Babies got heavy fast. "Have you ever held a baby, Dr. Spengler?" You repositioned him so that he sat comfortably against Egon´s shoulder. "May I…?" You asked Dana, to which she nodded warmly.

Taking Oscar, you held him with ease, as he reached up to grab your nose. Bouncing him in your arms, he hit you on either side of your temples, exploring your face. "What´re you looking for?"

Unbeknownst to you, Egon was gazing at you playing with Oscar. So was Ray, across the garage. As you walked in a circle with him in your arms, Dana also watched on, amused.

"You're a parent?"

The question catches you off guard. “Oh, no. Not yet at least.”

“Waiting for ‘the one’” Janine cuts in, eyes not leaving her computer.

“Among other things.” Oscar plays with the collar of the sweater, tugging on it. Peter hopped off the last of the stairs then, exclaiming at the spectacle.

“You’ve got some hairless monster on you,” he feigns fear. Oscar looked at him once, before going back to your collar. 

Ray crosses to you both, cooing at the kid in your arms. Peter stopped him halfway there.

“Wash.”

Ray looked down at his motor-oil covered hands, and defeatedly sulked over to the garage sink. Peter turned to you, opening his mouth to say something, before snapping it closed. He narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at you.

“Is that Eges’?”

You look down. “Is it?”

Egon went rigid, as usual, and swallowed silently. “Today’s forecast predicted a cold front.”

“We’re in the middle of the warmest spring in a decade. Mr. Softy’s outside.”

“Inaccurate journalism, then.”

While Ray’s eyes turned into slits from the sink, Peter’s widened. He put a hand on Dana’s shoulder and steered her towards the door. “I’m gonna have a quick walk with my girl here.”

“I was only stopping by for-”

“A quick walk.”

Oscar looked confused at seeing his mother go. He balled his fists in the front of your shirt. “The baby?”

“Keep it,” Peter called over his shoulder before the door shut. 

As Winston packed up all the tools under the elevated vehicle and Ray vehemently turned the pipe off, the phone rang. Janine took it, listening with “uh-huh’s” occasionally, before scribbling down an address on a notepad.

“There’s a client at,” she ripped the paper out and held it out for Ray, “this address. Golf course- she says there’s a puppet ripping out the green.” His eyes grew to the size of saucers as he read it to himself.

“Man! Are you sure this isn’t out of our zoning?” He pleaded with the tiny woman.

“I don’t know, Mr. ‘We’re ready to believe you’.” Janine resumed her typing.

“The day barely started and we’re already driving 2 hours out the way,” he grumbled., “Isn’t it Peter and Egon’s turn?” 

“It’s not. Last month we went down to that beach in Jersey.”

Ray’s incredulous glower deepened. “And you got ice cream afterwards!”

“And we’re very sorry yours melted.”

 He muttered a few things, before surrendering and pulling on his flight suit, Winston behind him begrudgingly. They repacked the car, pulled out the garage, and they were off.

Peter and Dana still weren’t back, so you sat back in the chair at Janine’s side. Oscar reached out to grab her sleeve.

“I’m returning this later, he’ll stain it.” She rolled her chair an inch away, sharpening a pencil. 

He babbled at her. “Don’t worry about Janine. She’s mean and old.” He tried leaning out of your reach to touch her face, entranced by something, before you spun the chair around. “She’ll steal your youth, Oscar.”

He looked a little bored, as he hit your temples for the second time. His brow furrowed as much as a baby could manage, as he examined your face again. “What?” You asked. He looked sad, making small whimpers at you. You turned the chair around again, showing him Egon. “He looks constipated, Dr. Spengler.”

Oscar suddenly got very excited, bouncing up and down and grabbing the air. You laugh, using your foot to bring a wheeled-stool over, waving Egon along to sit. He sat, legs comically too large for the tiny chair.

“Sure, let’s have a meeting at Janine's desk,” the woman commented dryly.

Egon looked a little bemused as the boy exclaimed for him, sitting in your lap. You scooted closer to him, so much so that your knees touched and formed a bridge, his skin getting warmer as you did. You place Oscar on the ledge you created, and he eagerly leans into Egon. He reaches for his face like he did you and Janine, but falls onto his butt in the process. Egon’s stiffness is endearing. It’s like there was a baby bear on his lap rather than a baby child. Jeez, he’s gonna burst a blood vessel at this rate.

Putting him out of his misery, you lightly grab each of his hands, steadying them on each side of the sitting baby marveling at the man in front of him. Egon’s skin is still warm, even more so now, as you coax him to pick Oscar up. The backs, at least, were a little rough and worn, but you expected no more from a scientist. He was still a man, at the end of the day. You glanced up at his panicking face, and you didn’t know any better, you’d say his chest was rising and falling more than normal. You held Egon’s large hands under your own as you aided him in raising him to eye level.

You leaned to the right, keen on teasing his bewildered face from behind Oscar’s rear end. “Was that hard, Dr. Spengler?” Oscar starts gleefully hitting his temples as he did yours.

“Do you want to have a baby.”

Janine’s typing stops. Egon’s glasses go flying off his face and land behind you, as the baby in your hands erupts in a fit of giggles before you could say anything. His hands recoiled from yours like you were a burning stove as you gently set him down, back on your own lap.

Egon looks like his brain is short circuiting and melting out his ears, which, for all you know, it was. Even with his glasses off, his face never failed to absorb you. He definitely had the face to make a few college girls lose their humility. 

He remembered human interaction and cleared his throat. “What I meant was. Oscar has a larger than normal head and large eyes. He also has an upturned, small nose.” His tone regained the scientific timbre it normally had. “Many people of,” he fished for the words, “child-rearing-age find these features…’cute’.” Janine snorted a laugh, then got up to search for his discarded eyewear somewhere on the floor.

“He’s to die for, no doubt. I just…” he’s resided lying against your legs now, his wonder satisfied for one afternoon as he teethed on one of Egon’s fingers, “Unfortunately, it takes 2 to to make a baby. I’m not exactly properly equipped to complete that job on my own” You sighed. How was your life gonna go back to normal, once your apartment was safe again? You hate to admit, but that job was you at your peak. Janine pressed the eyeglasses into Egon’s palm.

The door opened then, and Peter entered with Dana in tow. She smirked at the sight of you and Egon, knee to knee with a baby in between you.

“How cute, we’ll call up JCPenney and they can take a family photo,” she took to teasing Egon as you handed her back her son.

He sat limply in her arms, about ready for a nap. “He’s delightful, Dana.”

“Makes you wanna have one?” Janine turns in her chair to face you.

At some point during the afternoon, Janine sighed heavily at the idea of running around and completing the list of errands she’d let fester over the week as you ate together upstairs. Egon was tinkering with something at the workspace near you when he spoke up.

“Do you want me to do it?” He put the contraption down on the desk.

“You would?” Janine let her head fall on the back of the couch, holding the list out to him.

“I might as well. I can’t focus today.” He folded the paper, placing it in the pocket of his coat. As he started down the steps, he slowed, and turned his head towards you.

“Y/N? Would you mind joining me? I don’t get to the store much.” You had no objections. After washing the last of the wares you both had dirtied, you dried your hands off on a teatowel before descending the stairs on Egon’s heels.

He held the door for you as you stepped out onto the sidewalk, and the humidity hit you like  a brick. It had been a pretty warm spring, but the recent light rain seemed to cool the earth off, just a bit. It was getting gray and wet outside the longer you walked, clouds ghosting over the sun every now and again. You both walked together in comfortable silence, in an arbitrary direction (you’ve never been shopping in this area), as gentle drops on your head slowly turned into genuine precipitation.

Before you could suggest turning back, or grabbing umbrellas, the rain above you suddenly stops. As you look up, he’s holding his overcoat above your head. Head and shoulders undoubtedly getting soaked. 

“There’s a bus stop down the block. We can catch it if we run.”

With that, you’re off. Running like little kids down a hill, you narrowly avoid deep puddles and streetlamps as you giggle uncontrollably. As your feet hit the sidewalk with every step, the petrichor in the air fills your lungs like it’s your soul. In a way, in your adrenaline rushed mind, you equate it with the man next to you. 

When you finally reach the stop, the bus is lurking from the end of the street. Doubled over, you catch your breath, the air now feeling like fire leaving your esophagus. But you laugh through it all. And the man who shielded you from the rain lets out a weak, barely there chuckle. You straighten to thank him, when you notice how bad mother nature got him. Egon’s usually pomaded, high and tamed hair had fallen out of place, curls now coming loose on his head. He looked wonderful, other than most of his upper body being stained by the sudden downpour.

You can’t speak, staring at him, at the almost Grecian picture in front of you. His lips were parted slightly as he regained his energy, almost curled in a simper as the strong hands you felt earlier wiped some of the dampness from his forehead. His tie was a sky blue, unlike the sky that had dominion over you now. And god, he looked nice in blue.

As he noticed your staring, an eyebrow quirked up, only slightly. There was nothing for you to do but laugh, leaning into the tall man in front of you. He was stiff at first, and confused, but he succumbed to it soon enough, holding you as well as he couldn’t hold himself back from the ridiculousness of it all. You both probably looked like idiots, losing your minds on the side of the street. But for the first time since yesterday, you were sure of something. If this was what it felt like to be an idiot with him, you never wanted to be smart again.

[shelbgrey]

- Winston Zeddemore aesthetic

[muschiettistrashmouth]

Rewatching Ghostbusters and thinking about writing for them... if anyone would like that, please leave an ask ♡

[gonzo-rella]

I've officially added Ghostbusters to my fandom list! I've included the original characters and the characters in Afterlife and onwards. If I've missed out a character you want me to write for, feel free to ask if I'd be okay with writing for them. Full disclosure, I'm currently focusing on some self-indulgent Ray fics. I don't know when they'll be finished, but I'm really motivated to write them so I hope they'll be out soon-ish. I've got a duology, a one-shot and a set of headcanons in the works.

[spenglerssweetheart]

My Kind of Girl.

Winston Zeddemore x Musician!reader

In a case where Winston has to reject another for a chance with his kind of girl.

use of Y/n, rejection, secondhand embarrassment, slightly (barely) mean reader.

Takes place 1990, a couple of weeks after the events of vigo

Small note, I initially wanted this to be based off of New Editions ‘You’re not my kind of girl’ But as I wrote this, I’m listening to Cleo Sol and this woman is just wonderful so. Here’s what I’ve been listening to as I write, and I hope you enjoy it as you read!!

Being someone who sang, while being the partner of a ghostbuster, wasn’t as easy. But it wasn’t exactly hard. Tonight was hopefully one of her biggest gigs in a small jazz club, and Winston was hopefully going to be there to see her perform.

As the evening rolled around, Y/n could simply walk around the dress and rehearsal rooms, mostly singing to herself, nervous as she hadn’t met Winston’s friends and coworkers. She tried her best to calm herself down, sitting in front of her mirror, one of her bandmates coming up as she took in a few deep breaths.

“We’re on in 5” They said and she nodded, standing up and going over to grab her bass guitar and microphone. She and her bandmates alternated songs every other show, and she’d be opening this time. Y/n could hear the sound of ‘New edition’ playing in the meantime before they went up.

“Alright, so we’re starting off with Y/n’s two songs, and then Eliza’s and then Me and Willow’s songs” Vena’s Bandmate, Sage said as they gathered around her. Vena nodded twirling her mic in hand as she looked at everyone around her. “We’re gonna be here a while, but I believe in all of you, you’re all amazing and I love you all” Y/n grinned, giving them all high-fives and side hugs before they began going up on the small stage.

Gladly enough, Winston was right where Y/n could spot him. She gave him a small wink, before she placing her mic into its stand, making sure it was on before she started off. “First of all, I want to thank all of you, for coming out tonight, for coming to listen to all of the small bands and artists that have come to play for you. We all really appreciate it, We are love. We are Illusion” she said with a small smile before looking back at Willow who was on drums before giving her a nod.

Y/n could hear willow start off with a soft snare before she began with her bass, a simple melody, very calming. Eliza and Sage were handling some of the softer instruments before Y/n’s voice started out into the mic.

“Old wounds, old fights. Another day, goes by” she sang out “I’m not playing by the rules, they can’t take me for no fool” She continued, her eyes glancing over to Winston and his table, a small smile gracing her face. She had told him that she’d been writing a song meant for him, but she never showed him.

Winston on the other hand, couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. His head was silently nodding along to the music, the look of pure love in his eyes as he watched his girl sing. He couldn’t focus on anything else, only wanting to pay attention to her, and by the look in her eyes, he knew that, this was his song.

As he continued to listen, a girl went to sit at their table, noticeably next to Winston. When he took notice of this, he noticed the song was almost over, but the way Y/n’s vocals changed captured him once more, focusing his attention to his girl once again. Up on the stage, Y/n could see everything, keeping a straight face as they began to finish up her first song, and transition into the next.

As the next song began, Y/n focused her attention elsewhere, specifically spotting a different girl, much younger than she was and focused on her. As she sang, she put much more emotion into the way she did so. The feeling of jealousy was creeping up a little bit, but she knew she’d be alright.

“Young love, I want you to value your light. I see that you’re searching for peace of mind” She sang out, nodding out softly before the others continued with her. Winston could see her demeanor change and glanced over to the girl besides him. “I’m sorry, Do I know you?” He asked the girl as she looked up at him, shaking her head. “No but you could” She replied sweetly batting her eyes at him. “How about you get to know me sweetheart, I’m Peter-“ “Sorry, I was talking to him” The girl said sarcastically, giving him the eyes once again. Y/n watched, just as she had started to move, making way for Eliza, using quick and easy transitions between songs.

After all the songs were over, there was much applause for all of them, and each of them stood up and gave beaming smiles and took a bow, before stepping off. They were the last ones to play, and they were honestly kind of glad. Once they had finished putting their things away backstage, Y/n was quick to slightly push past everyone, desperately wanting to see Winston. As she walked up, she could see that the girl was definitely the one chatting her head off to him.

Winston was definitely keeping the conversation short, wanting to see Y/n with an urgency. He hadn’t realized that his girl was standing not too far from them, listening to every word the girl who was so desperately trying to hook arms with Winston. “So what’s your type? Y’know- your kind of girl?” The girl had asked, and Winston was quick to respond. “Not you. Sorry but you’re not my kind of girl” He said, scooting away slightly. “She is though” Winston said, a small grin painting his face as he spotted Y/n. She walked over, her face neutral as she did so.

Y/n acted as if she didn’t see the girl and walked over to Winston, smiling softly as he stood up and handed her flowers, anything but roses as she was allergic. Winston was quick to place a chaste kiss to her lips before his hand slipped around her waist, pulling her close. He gave her one last look over before Y/n began to introduce herself. “Hello, I’m Y/n, and I’m assuming that you guys are Winston’s co-workers?” She asked softly, unsure if she was doing alright. She held her hand out for them to shake, shaking Peter’s who gave the back of her hand a gentle kiss as if he had a chance, and Ray who gave her a firm shake. Egon was gentle, giving her a gentle nod as well, before she began to pull her hand back.

“I’m Peter, this is Ray, and that’s Egon with the glasses” Peter began, not noticing how Y/n began to wipe the back of her hand on her skirt. “It’s nice to meet you all. And who’s this?” She asked, acting clueless. She had put the girl on the spot, and she could tell at how she immediately turned red. The guys, including Winston all looked away, acting as if they didn’t know who she was. “Right. Exactly what I thought. Get up” Y/n said softly, but her voice stern. The girl had began to stand, giving Y/n a once over before Y/n began to lean in to whisper to her.

Once Y/n pulled away, she gave the now pale girl a fake smile and watched as she quickly walked away, glancing back at her before making her way completely out of the club. Y/n sat, content with herself and looked down at the flowers. “What did you tell her?” Peter asked, a chuckle leaving his lips as he sat back to sip from his beer. Y/n gave him a slight look. “Nothing but that I may or may not do something that would’ve gotten me in trouble back when the witch trials were a thing” she said, sort of tilting her head. “You’re a witch?” Ray asked, sort of in disbelief. His small quirk made Y/n smile softly, setting her drink down.

“I mean, yeah, mostly. Though it’s not what everyone makes it out to be y’know?” She said softly. “And no that doesn’t mean I can do spells right here” she said softly, giving him a small smile. It was clear that she had been joking, but was quick to throw in a small ' I'm joking' In case that anyone misunderstood. The girl was quick to look around, allowing the others to begin to talk amongst themselves. Winston Knew that Y/n wasn't a very social person so he allowed her to quickly introduce herself before mostly doing whatever it is she could do.

Egon could see that she was a somewhat reserved person like he was, not always taking the opportunity to talk about their interests or anything personal. Y/n could feel his gaze on her, and she glanced up at him, seeing the way that he was watching her every move like a hawk. She was quick to give him a small nod before getting up to grab another drink, whispering that into Winstons ear.

Sooner or later, everyone decided to depart from each other, small good nights shared amongst bodies. Y/n And Winston were the last ones to leave the bar, hand in hand as they walked through the streets. "So, who was that girl?" Y/n asked softly, looking up at her boyfriend, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Not my kind of girl that's for sure" He chuckled before gently pulling her in for a deep kiss, thankful that the sidewalk was empty.

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

So my loves. I said I'd be gone, I was and Now I'm partly back. There's still a lot going on, I just completed a couple of things for school, but I'm not finished completely. You guys will be getting surprise fics like this one, because I find that if I tell you guys, I dont get it complete. (October for example) So moving in silence is my best option. I love you guy's so very much, I hope you enjoyed, and have a great time where ever you are. Love you bunches, xox

[edgessunflower]

Winston Zeddemore Masterlist

In progress

[sonicscrewdriverstantz]

Headcanons, Being Ray Stantz's Child

gender neutral!reader, child!reader

Being born during the groups college days, and just adding a dose of daily chaos to their otherwise uneventful studies.

Three men and a baby. Enough said. It's absolute pandemonium.

Ray being the mother hen. Egon being the irresponsible father, and Peter being the fun uncle.

You have an entire family, even if not by blood.

Ray bringing you to college with him, and multitasking because he can't afford childcare.

Him using you as someone to rattle off all his theories about the occult and paranormal to before you can even crawl.

Peter uses you as a 'mini wing-man'. Women flock to him because they think you're his child and find the fact that he's a seemingly decent single dad attractive. (GIRL, IT'S THE BARE MINIMUM) Peter being himself, of course, doesn't bother to correct them.

Constant compliments being directed towards you by women, to which Peter's reply is always the same.

'Mhmmm, yeah, they get their looks from their father' *insert cocky, arrogant smirk*

Ray then reminding him that he's not actually the father.

'Oh, no, I know, I was complimenting you, honey' *cocky, arrogant smirk still in place, this smug guy knows exactly what he's doing*

Ray immediately becoming quiet and turning a bright, red colour, stumbling, tripping, collapsing over the English language, of which he's usually quite eloquent with. Then picking you up in his arms, and walking off muttering variants of profanities and insults directed at Peter

This section was greatly inspired by a ficlet my friend, @xraylovers wrote for me :) Thanks for letting me use your idea bestie.

Egon views you as a science experiment... problems ensue.

Days spent leaning over old occult books, the dusty aroma worn like a birthday badge as a testament to the age of the journal drifting into his child's face as Ray carefully reads each line.

Him having no concern as to whether this is proper bedtime story material for a 5 year old, as long as their happy, which, judging from the small inquisitive smile and plethora of questions asked, they most definitely are.

Ray is so excited to have a mini replica of him, just as interested in the occult as he is, someone to share his special interest with and experience the excitement and wonder of it all for the first time through their eyes.

Peter looking upon Y/N as his niece/nephew and calling them 'Baby Stantz' or 'The Littlest Ghostbuster' or variations upon. All the while, Y/N constantly complaining about wanting to be a Ghostbuster now.

Naturally, Peter buys a mini Ghostbusters suit with 'Baby Stantz' custom inscribed as the name tag, as well as a toy replica proton-pack. Which Egon promptly turns into a miniature, but fully-working proton-pack... until Ray confiscates it, sharing some harsh words with Egon about children's safety.

'Ray, I was merely teaching Y/N the proper way to operate a proton pack to prepare them for when they become a Ghostbuster'

'EGON! You can't give a child an unlicensed nuclear accelerator!'

Winston becoming the only semi-normal parental figure you have: Egon knows nothing about children, your dad is an extreme mother hen, and Peter is... himself.

Your dad would often take you out in the Ecto-1, wheels spinning, sirens blaring (after you begged ro have the sirens on, and every time he agrees because he has no backbone when it comes to you). You roll down the window and hold your hand out, letting the air rush through your fingers in quick succession as you take in the sights of New York City.

Despite his initial protest, when you became a little older and he realised how serious and passionate you were about following in his footsteps, your dad taught you how to use a proton pack and ghost trap (while supervised of course!) in the basement. While others your age were playing sports or video games, you were being taught how to wrangle ghosts and spirits.

Despite the dangers and challenges of being a Ghostbuster, you've always been proud of your dad and your family. They're not just heroes to the world, they're heroes to you, too.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐡 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: none

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

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

masterlist | commisions | carrd

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

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

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

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

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

• “Sure am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• “Hey, still here!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• “Oops. Yeah. Sorry Egon.”

• “Sigh.”

[bella-goths-wife]

Ghostbusters x ghost reader

Warnings: mentions of death, obsessive behaviour, non canon events, descriptions of traps being painful, ghost stuff

You had no idea what happened

One minute you were alive, and the next you were dead

But it wasn’t the death you were promised

You were given your body, but your skin was translucent and you felt utterly weightless

You were hysterical as you tried to ask the people surrounding you what was happening, but they ignored your presence and you quickly figured out they couldn’t see you or notice your presence

You had no clue how long you’d been dead, or how long you had roamed the streets in your Vaporised body

But you were so tragically bored

who knew that being a ghost was so mind numbingly mundane

You spent most of your days in your previous apartment with the tv on as you tried to live your life as if you were just having a day off from work, and not like you were dead and cursed to roam the world

But that only worked until the landlord cleared out your apartment so you just sat on the floor in the empty carcass that was once your home

And then some newlyweds moved in, and they were gross

You had to deal with seeing their acts of love and pda and have the realisation that that kind of love was no longer in the cards for you

So one day you got annoyed with their very loud PDA in the bedroom, and out of frustration you slammed cupboard and startled the life out of the couple

And a mischievous smirk crossed your face at the realisation that you could royally fuck someone’s day up with this

So you started off with hiding stuff, then breaking stuff until you finally got so frustrated that you screamed and accidentally revealed yourself to the couple

They called the ghostbusters the next day to report being haunted by the ghost of an early twenties female who was extremely mischievous

Winston and Ray were the first to arrive at the scene and immediately as they entered the apartment they felt a chill in their bones

You wanted to mess with them but you thought better of it as you had seen one of their adverts back before you died, you knew what they were here for and you were not about to get caught in one of those traps

So you just followed them into each of the rooms they visited and watched from over their shoulders

They had been to each of the rooms and retreated back to the living room when Peter and Egon arrived

Egon did various tests that you were careful to avoid in an attempt to fool them into thinking that you were not there

You hadn’t avoided the tests completely though, as Egon’s device showed that there was a ghostly presence but your attempts of fooling them had paid off because avoiding the device like you had gave the impression that the spiritual presence wasn’t in that apartment but someone else’s

The newlyweds were extremely frustrated with that outcome and demanded explanations for the various spiritual incidents like the coldness

To which venkman replied that they should check on their AC before stating that they were extremely busy and unless the spirit came back, the ghost busters couldn’t help

As they went to leave, you did something you weren’t sure was possible

You attached yourself to Egon as he left your apartment building, having taken you with him accidentally

And Egon accidentally took you straight to the ghostbusters headquarters

Where after you got adjusted, you wrecked havoc

You started off small by following the workers of ghostbusters around their daily routine in the headquarters

You followed Egon round in his lab, you followed Winston as he stored traps, you followed Peter around as he annoyed people in his office and you followed Ray around as he helped improve traps and washed the car

You also listened to Janine on the phone and whenever Dana would come in to visit Venkman you would follow her around as she helped keep the place in order

But that quickly got boring the routines became predictable, so you decided to throw a few wrenches in their plans

You’d mess with Egons lab equipment so that his results wouldn’t come out clearly

You’d move traps around whenever Winston went to clean them or store them until he found them in the strangest and impossible to reach sports

You’d mess with Peters papers whenever he left his office and your delete messages that someone left for him just out of spite

And you’d mess up any progress Ray made with the traps and you’d mess up anything he cleaned

It all become quite frustrating for the four men

You weren’t a violent or impulsive spirit like they had experience before, you were just mischievous and annoying

It all came to a head one night when you decided to get bold with your mischief

You had assumed that all of the ghostbusters were out for the night, but you failed to recall the recluse that was Egon Spengler

You had gotten bored so you decided to go to the radio that Janine kept on her desk and you blasted the radio as it played maneater by Daryl & Oats

You danced around in a similar fashion to Lydia from beetle juice as you raised yourself to the ceiling and danced around the room

The music had disturbed Egon as he rushed out of the lab and into the main area, where he saw you dancing

In your joy you had become visible to the human eye, and Egon could see the little minx who had been tormenting him and his friends for months on end

Egon watched for around ten minutes before you spotted him and disappearing, but not before flashing him a fox like smile

Now that Egon was aware of your existence, he decided it was time he looked into who you were

He pestered your landlord about the previous residents of your apartment and looked through the photos until he recognised you

Your landlord assumed Egon must have been an old boyfriend and insisted that he take some of your stuff since you had no family come and collect it, and Egon accepted out of peer pressure

So he brought your things back to the headquarters and looked through them

He found many things of interest to him but he noticed a dusty chess board in one of the various boxes and thought it would be a brilliant way to to establish communication

So he dusted off the chess board and set it up in his lab with a camera set up in the corner, and he waited

He made his first move and waited around five minutes before a piece from the opposite side moved in a countermove

Egon played chess with you until he eventually won, and he offered you a rematch on the condition that you communicated with him this time

And so you did, you made yourself visible to Egon and you were sporting the same fox like grin as before

Egon tried to ask questions during your second game, but you never answered past shaking and nodding your head

You had won the second round after making a few unexpected moves while Egon was distracted trying to communicate with you

Egon gathered the ghostbusters and showed them the tape before actively encouraging them to try and communicate with you whenever they noticed your mischievous presence

They all questioned why they shouldn’t just trap you and store you, but Egon quickly responded that he’d never seen a spirit with this amount of self awareness that you were a ghost, and the fact that you communicated with him was an intriguing premise as most spirits don’t communicate in favour of doing whatever they did before they died

It became somewhat of a daily occurrence for you to play chess with Egon as he encouraged you to talk and you refused

Winston was the most receptive to Egons as his frustration at your mischievous antics encouraged him to scold what looked like thin air about how hard you made his day, he may have felt foolish talking to himself but he’d do anything to try and convince you to stop hiding his traps

So he talked to an empty room as he stored a trap and almost stopped before hearing a ghostly giggle

He had turned around and saw your translucent figure actively laughing at his frustration before taking off with his trap

He practically played hide and seek with you for about an hour before he saw you leave the trap in the lab and take off with a fox like grin

That became a daily occurrence for Winston, and despite his annoyance he quite enjoyed your little games

Raymond was the next person to become more receptive to your presence as he tried to seek you out

He had noted what Egon had said about catching you dancing and that gave Ray an idea as he rewashed the car you dirtied again

He turned on the radio to his usual station of self proclaimed “groove music’ and talked to the room as he tried to encourage you to come out and listen to the music

And he was caught of guard when the radio completely turned off and for a moment he thought he had angered you

That was until the radio started again with a more pop like radio, and ray figured out that you weren’t angry but you hated his music

Ray tried to defend his music taste to your invisible presence and switch back the radio to his music but he got spooked as you came out of no where and did a quick ‘boo’

When he was distracted by the near heart attack you gave him, you switched it back to your music

Ray decided it was easier to give in rather than be spooked every time he went near the radio

After that, whenever ray was working on something he’d turn on the radio and you’d switch the music and you’d both listen together

And you’d still give him small spooks whenever you could

You bonded with Venkman months after the others and over something extremely surprising, crossword puzzles

Peter loved and hated crossword puzzles

He loved the feeling of completing one and the feeling of superiority that came from it, he hated that he could never actually finish them

So one day after your usual wreaking of havoc in his office, he sat down with a coffee and a crossword and felt extremely frustrated when he couldn’t complete it

So he sarcastically asked the prompt to what he thought was the empty room and was extremely surprised when an invisible figure plucked the pencil from his hand and answered the crossword

Peter was intrigued so he allowed your little game of him reading the prompts and you answering them until you both eventually finished it together

This made Peter much more tolerable to your presence as you two would do a crossword puzzle together whenever he had time or he felt your presence in his office

You had such a good relationship building up with each of them that they considered not trapping you and just letting you haunt the place in your own little harmless ways

But that was quickly scrapped when one day you accidentally took it too far

Dana had come to the headquarters to visit Peter and bring him coffee, and when she couldn’t find him she started wandering around looking for him

She followed the sound of music into the little garage section of the building and entered the room

You had been playing around with Ray at the time before he stepped out and when Dana came in you assumed she was Ray and gave her a little spook

This little spook however caused her to fall back and scrape her legs while the coffee spilled on her arm and gave her a small burn

You hadn’t meant to hurt her but she was so scared in that moment that she screamed

The commotion brought the four men down to her and misconstrued the scene as you purposely hurting Dana

Egon helped Dana with her injuries before sending her back home and calling a meeting

In this meeting he stated that you had become a dangerous and violent spirit and Peter quickly said that they should trap you, still raging over Dana getting hurt

They all agreed and before you knew it, they had cornered you as you clasped your hands together and pleaded for a second chance

They didn’t listen as they put you in the trap but the entire process felt like hit irons on your skin

You were eventually forced into this trap that to you looked like a jail cell from the inside before storing you with the rest of the ghosts and going on with their lives

Your afterlife was extremely mundane and painful as you were stuck in the trap for three months that felt like three years, with nothing to do and nowhere to go

The four men tried to go on with their lives but something distinct was missing

Out of routine kept accidentally doing the things that they would usually do with you and expecting you to show up

Egon would sit at the chess board and night before realising you weren’t coming and just playing a solo game of chess

Winston would set traps out for you to hide like he used to, only to find them still on the desk when he fishies counting to thirty

Ray would put his groove music on while he washed the car and waited for you to switch it over to pop, but you never came

Even Venkman, who was the most insistent on trapping you, would still accidentally read out a crossword puzzle prompt and wait for you to answer before finally realising that you weren’t there

So after three months and Dana explaining that she didn’t think you hurt her on purpose, they decided to release you from your trap

It was a relief to finally be free as you felt yourself becoming adjusted you your ghostly body again

The four ghost busters assumed that things were going to go back to the way they were, thinking that you wouldn’t be angry about the three months of entrapment

But you did remember and you were royally pissed off about it

You actively ignored all the efforts of the four men trying to contact you and you ignored all of their agologies (ray and Winston were the only ones to apologise)

You decided that they deserved to feel an inch of what you felt those painful three months

If they assumed you were dangerous and violent, you would give them dangerous and violent

Should I continue this? :)

[tuliptired]

He's Good People Ch.3

Chapter 3: I Didn't Mean to Take Up all your Sweet Time (I'll Give it Right Back to Ya, One of These Days)

Pairing(s): Gn!reader/Ray, Gn!reader/Egon, Gn!reader/Winston

Summary: (Winston centric, briefly Egon centric) To get out the firehouse, you 're invited for a day out on the town with the "common man" of the Ghostbusters, and he won't stop opening doors for you

Warnings: Reader wears masc presenting clothes for like one paragraph

THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE :((( hope a longer update makes up for it!

read it on Ao3!

  It was fairly late into the night. You felt weird about going to bed while none of the others had returned, like you were overstepping. You were content with being curled up in a chair as Egon annotated a book in the dimly lit lab. He had offered you one of the many works from his personal collection, but the words started to lose their meaning after the first handful of pages. Maybe he ought to read it to you, instead. You set the book aside, much more interested in watching him. He had his sleeves rolled up again, fairly unnecessary because he was only working with paper and pencil.

He discarded his work for the second time that day, looking over at you. The need for sleep was creeping up on him, as his eyelids sat low and his gaze remained soft. 

"I´m sorry for boring you."

"I´m not bored. Are you tired? You don't have to stay up with me."

He put the pencil back into a mug full of others. He rose from the workbench, opening the book to a heavily noted page. Crossing over to where you were sitting, Egon joined you, holding it open for you to see. There were large, square photos of terrifying looking sculptures. Upon further inspection, they were really just recreations of exotic animals. A boa constrictor, an alligator, a giant salamander, a…platypus. Behind each of them stood a Victorian era man, beaming with self-worth at the spectacles surrounding him.

“See him?” He pointed to the man. “That’s Benjamin Fairhooke. He had a penchant for imported animals. And too much money. So much so he had the theater near your building constructed to show them off.”  He turned the page to a large spread of the theater in the late 1800’s, advertising an oddity show.

“They started showing plays and operas soon enough. But everyone knew how passionate he was. Piranhas-in-the-bar sink, frogs-on-the-staircases-passionate.” There was a photo of Fairhooke next to a woman. Despite her exquisite clothing, elegant features, and extravagant jewelry, she had a fairly sour expression, while he still beamed at the camera, an iguana in his lap.  

“That was his wife, Claira. Their marriage was falling apart while ticket sales peaked. They held their son’s wedding reception in the lobby of the theater.” He had a grainy photo bookmarked. There was a newlywed couple, normal. Claira’s in the background, though. Not happy her son was just married, but instead staring down the barrel of the camera like it was a gun.

“She had just found Benjamin in a parlor, tending to a snapping turtle. She got so mad, she took the shovel from the fireplace and managed to decapitate him in 10 minutes.” Holy shit.

He could feel your shock. “I know. She left him there for the rest of the night. They searched for weeks, until they found his body. She told them everything- just not what became of his head. His animals went missing, and his kids wanted nothing to do with the theater. Local legend says that the souls of his then neglected animals are still searching for Claira. Anywhere she could be. But it fell into obscurity. Everyone who believed in it died at the turn of the century.” He shut the book.

“So. The ghosts of a bunch of critters are running around my block, looking for his murderer? And one ended up in my washing machine?” 

“Essentially. I’ve wanted to investigate since I heard the story, but it was always word of mouth. I only just found it buried in an anthology of neighborhood ghost stories in Ray’s store.” He sighed, getting up and placing the book back into its place on his shelf. “He was pretty excited about my findings. He always is. But he’s been dragging his feet about it.” Egon looked worried, if not at least a bit frustrated, as he took a seat back next to you, knees touching unintentionally. You could understand, this was his longtime friend, after all. This all seemed very perplexing to him.

“Maybe he’s just scared? Of what he’ll find?” The words really don’t serve much purpose other than to soothe his nerves- they don’t convince you, even as they fall from your lips. Ray was a discerning and generally happy man, but he was still brave. He wouldn’t be a paranormal expert, a Ghostbuster if he was scared of what he loved.

You could tell his fears were still there. You placed a hand on his, silently grateful as you felt that they were still the same hands you held earlier.

“I promise, the moment I can get back into my apartment I’m gonna look for the key.”

There was the predecessor to a smile, before he had a look that read as accepting defeat. “I apologize for you being stuck with us so long. Only a day more.” Before you could protest, tell him that you’re having a wonderful time and you’re sorry for being in their hair, you heard cursing downstairs, followed by heavy steps approaching, making you jump.

Ray and Winston joined you upstairs, covered in thick, oozing slime of some sort. Winston held a smoking machine like the one Ray had after cleansing your house, only this time a bit more scratched up.

“It wasn’t a mannequin at all. God-damned-ghost-komodo-dragon on its hind legs. Sprayed us bad- we hosed ourselves off 6 times on the way home.” Winston tried wiping the slime moving from his glove to his wrist off on his pant leg, only making the viscous substance spread more.

Ray didn’t look angry, but he wasn’t bouncing off the walls. “This is big. Y’know that old theater-”

“I already explained it.”

“You’re kidding.”

‘’No. I explained Fairhooke, Claira, the ghosts. All of it.”

Winston could feel the start of a petty back and forth, so he discreetly asked you to follow him. He laughed and shook his head as he went down the steps to the very bottom of the firehouse. You had seen this room when Ray brought you down for pajamas, and you recognized the door he had peeked into, but not what was on the wall. A large, red electrical looking panel stared back at you.

“Ray taught me how to do this when I was new here.” He went through the motions of showing you how they used it to hold ghosts. You were glad he took the extra step and explained what it really did under the surface, because lord knows you were puzzled.

“He even made a rhyme. ‘When the light is green, the trap is clean’”.

“Does this make me part of your team now?” You complain, purely jokingly.

“You don’t wanna be? I wouldn’t mind.” You had to hand it to him, he had a charming way of disarming you. He didn't give you time to respond, as he made his way to the laundry area. He came back with new pajamas, softer looking ones.

“I hope these are a little more personable.” He handed you a light purple t-shirt, and dark purple sweatpants. There was thought behind these, definitely not something they had laying around in the hamper. 

You smile at the consideration. “Thank you.” He returned it, very white teeth and all. He gave you privacy to change, and was peeling his suit off upon your return. It looked incredibly uncomfortable, the mire of today´s job trying to stick to his skin. He finally got the soiled jumpsuit off, and it stuck to the floor like a glue trap. As he stuffed it into the industrial washer, another one tumbled out a laundry chute and onto a pile of dirty, but not slimy, clothes. He sighed, carefully picking up the soiled suit and garments and placing them in, too.

“What is it, anyway?” You watched on as he poured a cocktail of different, unmarked liquids, which you assumed were non FDA approved cleaners for these kinds of unconventional stains.

He pressed the washing machine closed, turning a few knobs and pressing a few buttons. “Ectoplasm. As graceful as it sounds.” You follow him, as he makes his way back up the steps.

“Like sticky skunk spray.” He stops in front of the sleeping quarters, and it gives you a moment to wonder why exactly you were still following him. As you start to mull over it further, he places his pointer finger over his lips.

“We oughta get out of here tomorrow. Ray’s gone to bed without dinner. Bad sign. It’s not pretty when he and the professor get into it.” He explains, voice hushed.

“Are they okay?”

“They will be. Ray stresses for a day, but he always apologizes, ‘cause he’s scared to lose his friend.” Winston smiles familiarly, thinking of the men he’s grown to know well over the past 5 years since his initial hiring. You can’t stop the spread of warmth under your skin as you think, too.

“Kindred spirits. I hate to see them both so worked up.”

“They can’t help it. They’ve got a new distraction running around.” 

You don’t have time to process it, again, before he’s halfway back down the steps to the first floor. You lean over the railing, just as he passes Janine’s desk.

“Where are you going?”

He doesn’t stop walking, until he reaches the exit. “I promised my mom I’d stay over. Be up early tomorrow, ok? I’ll take you on a joyride.”

“Goodnight,” you wave, as he gives you a two finger salute, letting the door shut behind him.

You can’t really sleep- you don’t want to, anyway. Egon’s still upstairs, Peter’s with Dana, and Ray’s in bed by himself. As tempting as it is to go up there and console him, you really don’t want to come off as pushy. So, you had an apron tied over your front, sleeves rolled up and gloves on as you worked to scrub the slime out of blanched fabric. What a night.

The stickiness was seldom coming off, but you noticed progress. It would bubble and sud with the soap, but it was nothing a frequent rinse didn’t get rid of. The only problem was that it was thick, and it sat deep in the absorbent material. You lost track of the hours you spent, going down the line; Soaking, scrubbing, rinsing, scrubbing, rinsing, soaking- over and over. The need for sleep left you, as this housekeeping mystery kept you unwilling to give up until it was completed.

There was a click of the heavy door, and your thoughts of finishing the task as you feverishly scraped a suit against a large washboard suddenly ceased. Winston stood at the door, dressed and holding 2 cups of coffee-shop-coffee.

“Good morning,” his face was both impressed and fearful. You figured this was enough, as most of the slime sat mixed with now greenish water in the large sink. You carefully transferred it to the dryer with the others, and peeled your gloves off.

“Goodmorning,” you wiped some soap off your cheek with your wrist.

He handed you a cup. “You think you deserve a shower after all that?” You walked out the laundry with him, the warm liquid having the opposite of its desired effect as it made you the slightest bit sleepy. 

Your shower was quick and to the point. In the few days you’ve been there, your towel has had a permanent residence on a hook by the door, a fair distance from the other 4. You figured this would have to be your second day in the blue sweater, but you didn’t mind all that much. You managed to wash it as well the night prior, so it was dried and fluffed as it waited for you.

Winston ran into you on your way out the bathroom, something dark in his hands. He unfolded it, and stepped behind you to put it on your shoulders.

“What’s this?” You whipped your head around to watch his movements. 

“Had to pick this up from my mom’s, too.”

It was a dark purple jacket, the sleeves needing to be cuffed by him in order for your hands to appear. You could see a wide, black stripe wrap around the back and little pinstripes around the collar. You knew Winston was a more eccentric dresser than his coworkers, the brightly colored laundry telling you so, but to take something so nice from his mom?

“I can’t take this, She doesn’t even know me.”

“It’s mine. And it’s going to a good cause.” He drops your wrist. Taking a step back, he examines his work with a hand on his chin, an unsatisfied look on his face. He figures out what’s wrong, as he grabs the zipper from the bottom and pulls it up, the blue of the sweater underneath now hidden. There’s a pleased smile on his face as he takes another step back, before starting down the stairs.

“I’ll be waiting for you in the car,” and he disappeared.

While you were excited to get out again, to have some sort of normalcy for a day, but the urge to check the kitchen overtakes your legs. Your heart feared for the worst, you peek across the threshold, and you could’ve died then.

Egon was at the little table, pancakes, eggs, and coffee on two plates in front of him. The thing was, yours was untouched. He sat there, hands in his lap, face unreadable, until he noticed your presence. He didn’t light up, his features didn’t change, but you could’ve sworn there was a slight, upward twitch of the inner corners of his eyebrows. You felt a sort of nausea wash over you, that settled in your chest as you thought of what to say.

Walking towards him felt condescending, as if you were increasing the parameters of whatever obviously negative emotion he was feeling, but it was the proper thing to do. You folded your hands in front of you, unthreatening. Benevolent. He looked at you through his eyelashes, like a wounded animal. 

“I’m sorry. That I wasn’t around this morning.” To anyone else, this would seem melodramatic. A meal skipped out on between 2 people who have known each other for 2 days. But the way there was a flash of forgiveness, that you saw so often in the downcast faces of those young men and women around a coffee pot, weeks after their indulgence of passion. One of them did something. And the other so desperately wanted things to be okay again. They’d be engaged. You saw it on the faces of teenage actors, as their parents commented on a poor performance, before bringing them ice cream. It was the small injustices, from the people that you loved.

He opened his mouth to speak, before a honk from the garage cut him off. Winston was calling you, the unfortunate timing making you cringe.

“I’m sorry, again. I won’t be gone long.” He didn’t respond as you retreated to the door.

You reluctantly disappeared out the room, before appearing one more time.

“I’ll make it up to you.” 

You take your leave down the stairs, the garage door open as the Ecto-1a runs idly. Winston leaned over, opening the passenger door for you. Settling in with a huff, he turned to you as you pulled your seatbelt on.

 “Ready?” When you nod, he pulls the car out the garage, and onto the street. After a few minutes of driving from the firehouse, he reaches for the glove compartment, his hand emerging with a cassette in a purple case. 

“Hope you don’t mind Mj,” he grins as he slides it into the car’s slot. The singer’s voice fills the car, and he eventually joins in. He has an amazing singing voice, honestly, and you’re too compelled to take pleasure in his gaiety as he drives.

“The Jackson 5: Jackie, Tito, Marlon, Jermaine, and Winston,” you tease him. The city’s awake with you, as children took their lessons on the blacktop of the school’s playground, and grandmother’s bought fruit placed in their foldable carts. A handful of dogs howl as your highly decorated car passes by. 

“I could never take Michaels place,” Winston crosses his heart, the cassette starting to play a Stevie Wonder song. He nodded his head along to the beginning of “Signed, Sealed, Delivered”. 

He enjoyed himself for the whole song, even roping you into joining in. Eventually, he turns the volume down a few notches.

“What music do you like?” He questioned, nodding in acknowledgment as you listed off your current favorites. As he waited at a red light, he skipped a few songs, claiming that you’d like this one more after the inventory you gave him.

You take another look around, as the setting gets more and more unfamiliar to you. “Where’re we going, anyway?” You tilt your head.

“Right now, I’m thinking the music store. But I have other ideas, too.” He pulls up to the curb of an aptly named record shop, shutting off the engine and opening your door from the outside before you could protest. The inside was fairly simple, musical equipment sitting on shelves behind a desk, records stretching around the perimeters of the room, and cassette tapes in the square middle.

The layout intrigues you, as your brain pings at recognizable albums. You shy away from Winston, flipping through a few records in your favorite genre. He reappears at your side, a small box of blank tapes in his hands.

“Are you recording something?” You continue to browse. He shakes his head.

“You’re gonna need your own tape to play in the car. We all have one.” He peers over your shoulder casually, taking in music he’s never heard of. You shake your head apologetically, fearing the effort it’ll take. He picks up an album you’d been eyeing.

He turned to look at you, eyes earnest and eyebrows slightly raised. “Make space for yourself.” Simple words. He wasn’t asking a lot from you. But he was speaking to you- I want you to survive. I want you to live. 

You have nothing to do but nod your head, no point in protest. He has a pleased smile, and examines the album a little more before putting it down. Something else catches his eye, and he brightens, mouth open in awe. There’s a full stack of reddish yellow squares, and he spins around to show you, eyes twinkling like a little kid.

“Tommy! I thought you didn’t carry Hendrix!” He chides the man excitedly, flipping the album around. You stand behind him to read the song list as well. Tommy merely shrugs.

“Best guitarist since Berry,” he proclaims to you. “Absolutely insane sound.” He had such a look of delight on his face. It was different from Ray’s- it wasn’t analytical, he probably didn’t know everything he could’ve about what he loved, but that only made him love it more. Winston’s joy was simple, but it wasn’t unimportant. As he talked on about the man he looked up to, his soft eyes crinkled, a wide smile meeting them. 

“I wasn’t allowed to play him.” He pulled out his wallet, paying for not only his newfound treasure, but the empty cassettes and your own personal favorite. “Not when I was at home, or when I was deployed.” Tommy handed him the items in a plastic bag. “But I paid my neighbor a nickel to let me when our parents weren’t home. I lost a lot of commissary that way, when I got older.” His story had a boyish tone to it, as he held the door open for you. He wouldn’t stop opening doors for you, insisting on it as you got in the car.

“Are you hungry?” His question makes you recall the other companion you’d forgotten at the firehouse, your heart filling with cement. You agree to lunch, knowing he really wouldn’t let you refuse.

Your next destination is a little restaurant, the area busier as midday approaches and working class America is looking for something to eat. When you enter (and he holds the door), there’s a teenaged boy behind the counter, packing orders and taking cash. The interior is smaller than you assumed, as the floor is taken up by the buffet-style kitchen behind the spot to order, and a  few tables and chairs. It smells amazing, though, and the menu looks even better. Winston watches you pridefully as you marvel over what to get, before his voice breaks you out of your stupor.

“Know what you want?”

“I can’t decide. It all sounds great,” you confess, the idea of choosing making your head hurt.

Winston chuckles at your response, guiding you to a little table and making you wait there as he chooses for the both of you. After letting some highschoolers get in front of him so they could get back to school before the hour ended, you see that he’s an exceptional conversationalist, becoming instantly acquainted with the people in line with him. He asks them about their day, listens intently, and when asked about his own he gladly replies with “day out with a friend,” pointing to you. You give a bashful wave to him and his newfound comrades.

He speaks familiarly to the kid at the register, counting things off his fingers, and even slipping him a bill that was definitely not a part of his total. He soon has two styrofoam containers in his hands, steam rising out the slight openings. He opens yours for you, the water vapor and aroma hitting you like a punch. There’s greens, mac and cheese, and fried fish staring you down as your eyes widen. While you were stuck in your hypnosis, he reached over, cutting your food for you.

It was like you died and went to heaven, before being sent back to finish your plate. You almost absentmindedly held onto the table to keep you tethered to the Earth. 

“You guys have kept me fed all weekend,” you say between rushed bites. It’s true- this is the best you’d eaten in a while. You swallow. “I can’t remember the last time I was able to stop and make actual food.”

“Egon treats you to breakfast, I treat you to lunch.” He raises his hands in a shrug. “Good?”

“Amazing,” you chew. “You seem to know this place well,” you suggested.

“I take lunch here everyday,” he wipes his mouth on a napkin.

“I can see why. Is it a favorite?”

“No, my favorite is the Jamaican lady down the corner.”

You raise an eyebrow, setting your fork down as he blissfully kept eating. “But…you know everyone here, they know you, you come here every day.”

He blinks. His tone is slightly quieted. “I know. But the owner’s trying to put his daughter through college. Any penny I can give to him counts.” He talks as if the act of selflessness was the simplest thing in the world. It amazed you, how easily kindness and servitude came to him. In your short time with him, he was nothing but humble and friendly with everyone he interacted with. The small smile that spread on your face was one of admiration, and genuine mystique at the kindly man across from you.

You chatted for a bit longer, about growing up, your families, before you were both finished. He tossed your trash, and bid the teen at the register goodbye before walking you back to the Ecto. Once inside, you couldn’t help but lean your head against the glass, your lack of sleep the previous night manifesting after eating so good.

“I think that knocked me out,” you tried hard to suppress a yawn in your throat as he turned on the ignition, soft rumbling making it harder.

“There’s a word for that,” he laughed. That was the last thing you could remember, before waking back up. The car was still parked in the same spot, and as you sleepily looked around, Winston sat in the same spot, peacefully reading a small book. Your stomach dropped as you noticed the time- nearly 3 o’clock.

“I am so sorry,” you stumbled through an apology, sleep still sticking to your panicked words. He simply took his reading glasses off, eyebrows raised as you rambled.

‘I don’t mind. I had my book.” 

“I didn’t snore, right?” Your skin burnt.

He paused. "It made a good ambience.”

You threw your head into your hands, Winston snickering at your expense as he started the car again. He drove out the area, sidewalk now full of families coming from school and work, in addition to teenagers loitering for a bit before they headed home. The scenery became less cozy and residential, and slowly became more retail, tall buildings advertising clothes and businesses. You recognized it as being your downtown area- albeit the parts you felt too low-income to pursue.

“What’s next?” You wondered if there was dried drool on your chin.

“I doubt anyone is talking to anyone back home.” Winston bit the inside of his cheek. He kept his eyes on the road, thoughts behind his eyes. He had a bittersweet look on his face, before speaking again. “When we didn’t have anything to do- or any spare money to do it with, my mom took my siblings and I to the department store.”

You’ve heard quite a few personal stories in the last few hours. Maybe it was his way of connecting. You decided to probe. “What’d you do?”

His face softened a bit, recounting the positive parts of the memory. “All types of fashion shows. Found future gifts to our dad. Made our mom promise to find us shirts just like the ones on the rack- and she did. We pretended we were the richest kids in the world. Preacher’s kids, we weren’t…terribly poor. But there were reminders. Mom made it better.” He smiled fondly, despite the car being stuck behind a bus.

The car moved forward. “I’m sure she’s the reason you turned out so well.” The car suddenly stalled, and you were honked at from behind. Eventually, you were parked against the busy sidewalk of a wide, tall building. The sheer size was enough to intimidate, as you still sat in the car, gazing at the top of the structure as he had the door handle in his hands.

You were estimating the floor count, before you felt a hand grab yours. His palms were soft, slightly calloused, but warm nonetheless. He looked down at your conjoined hands, before simpering back up at you. “So you don’t get lost.”

As Winston guided you through the bustling floor, your anxiety was substituted for security. The makeup counter was absolutely packed, as were the prom dresses upstairs. That made a fair amount of sense, as the school year would be ending soon. While on the escalator, you can see all the patrons, hurrying in and out with their bags. At the top, something in the toy section catches your eyes. Winston lets himself be led over.

“What a find,” you take a rectangular box off the shelf. It’s a nearly identical Smokey the Bear plushie, just a newer model. There’s a tribute to the old one printed on the back of the packaging. Winston watched as you reveled in the coincidence.

You remember his presence, and the lack of context he has for you suddenly admiring a children’s toy. “Ray sleeps with an old one. Smokey’s seen better days.” Winston smiles as you place it back on the display.

“Why not get it for him?” 

You shake your head swiftly. “I’d be dishonoring your mom. I thought the point was to not  spend money?”

He picked the bear back up. “She also says that you can’t take money to the grave. Maybe it can be a goodbye present? We can find something for Egon and Peter, too.”

You think on it. At this rate, there wasn’t much for you to repay their kindness with. Well-thought-out gifts paid for with Winston’s money will have to do, for now. You agree, before disembarking to a clothing department. You end up in the men’s section, articulate and hip pieces you couldn’t even dream of affording. Winston gazes up at the flashy, electric purple suit vest on a mannequin, as you sit back on a chair behind him.

“You like that one?” You sit up.

He puffs out a laugh at the outfits' pure hedonism. “It’s a lot. Even for me.”

“And you want it,” you rise, skimming the racks for the matching pieces in his size as he protests. You wordlessly hand them to him, and he surrenders, disappearing behind the entrance to a men’s dressing room. In the meantime, you’d look for Peter’s gift. To be fair, you knew him the least out of the 4 men. But Winston had told you he messed around too much in the lab, and lost his favorite tie to a small fire. He apparently never had time to replace it, and Winston could remember the exact brand, style, and color, so you figured he could single out the one you were looking for out of a short stack of silky, red fabrics. 

As you waited in a warmly lit lounge area by the fitting room, he emerged, holding his arms out and up to model it for you. The satin of the cream colored undershirt fit around him nicely, the bright vest even coming in at his waist a bit. He had the full ensemble on, even down to the suede loafers. He looked like a moviestar, even if he was too humble to actually admit it himself, the price tag swinging underneath his arm. 

“It’s something,” He looked at himself in the mirror, hands on his square hips.

“It’s great, that’s what it is,” you say honestly.

“You like vampire-soul-train?” He turned.

You put your hands up defensively. “I love vampire-soul-train.” He continued to look indecisive about it, confidence visibly falling. “Are you gonna come back for it?”

“Where would I wear it to?” He peeked at the price tag one more time, dropping it like it burned his fingers.

You shrugged. “You don’t need an occasion. Sometimes it’s just fun to dress up. Ask Janine.”

He laughs. “I guess you’re learning from the best.” He looks down pleasantly surprised at what he’s seeing on the floor. “If anything, I’d come back for the shoes.” He looks at you through the reflection in the mirror. “Did you find anything?” 

You look around at the dozens of clothes behind you. “I guess not.” There’s a lot to choose from, and a lot of bright colors fighting for your attention. It’s all a little overwhelming, looking at clothes you’d fall in love with and never buy. You end up standing in the middle of the department, scratching your head swimming with uncertainty, until Winston taps you on the shoulder.

“They have it in your size.” So you matched. 

“We look like a magic act,” you tease him, remembering Peter’s tie situation. After he pinpointed the correct match, you admired yourselves a little longer- at least until the staff were tapping you on the shoulder and asking if you needed anything, courteous smiles twitching as they watched you saunter around in their merchandise. 

You looked at more things in different departments- jewelry that you tried to convince Winston to re-pierce his ears for, home decor you’d have if your place was bigger. Eventually, he gladly paid for the 2 gifts, the large bag in which they were placed sitting next to you at an ice cream counter. As you ate, you both came to the conclusion that Egon deserved a decadent little chocolate cake from the dessert store you were at, and you hoped it would keep in the fridge overnight. 

“You ready to go home tomorrow morning?’ He put his spoon in his mouth. Butter pecan. You groaned lightly. You wanted to give them their space- and their money back, but it was like the ending to a pleasant dream, going from companionship and a warm place to sleep in a hard time to a now-damaged apartment and job fairs.

“As ready as I can be. Thanks, for putting up with me this weekend.” You put your spoon down.

“You won’t get rid of us that easy. We’ll be there to help you clean up.”

“The 4 archangels. I promise, when I get back on my feet I’m finding new ways to repay you all.” He dismissed your offer.

“It’s the minimum. Louis’ office was in the boiler room for a bit, you know.” He lightened your guilty mood. As he smiled, you noticed the now dark bruise against his jaw. Impulsively, you reached out and manipulated his face gently. 

“Does it still hurt?”

There’s a crash from the first floor. You both rush to the balcony railing, watching as people run to the exit, as feral growls vibrate around the large store. Winston grabs your hand again, though less tender now, running down the steps of the now disabled escalator against waves of people running up instead. When you reach the bottom, you watch in terror as an angry alligator destroys the store. As you looked on, you could see that the tail of the beast was vaporizing in front of you, as it hissed out a slime like the one you worked to wash out early in the morning. This wasn’t just an escaped animal. It was a ghost. Winston came to this conclusion at the same time that you did, pulling you towards the exit and to the Ecto. 

“Should we call Peter and Ray and-”

He opened the door to get his equipment. “They won’t get here in time. And they won’t have any  of this.” He grabbed a proton gun, staring down at it before sighing. “I’m gonna ask you to do something very dangerous.”

Your eyes flickered down to the weapon in his hands, before your mouth fell open. “Absolutely not. Dr. Spengler said that it was ‘unregulated units of atomic energy.’” He ignored your protests, putting the proton pack onto you. He pulled the belt tight around your waist.

“It’s easier than you think,” he said hurriedly, adjusting the straps on your shoulders. “Have you ever flown a plane?”

You stare at him, eyes blown and wide, before burying your head behind your hands. He pries them off gently, placing them each on different points of the gun. “Well then it’s just like driving a car. You shoot the ghost with this, okay? Just keep holding onto him, and I’ll open the trap for you. We’re gonna do it, and we’re gonna do it together.” 

Before you could revel in him talking you through it, he’s pushing you inside. Herds of frightened customers cling to the walls, out of the way of the ghost, and make room for you and Winston as they quietly whisper to each other that help has come. The alligator is ripping up a display, the woman in the ad subsequently dressed in Victorian style dress. Winston creeps up towards it slowly, before advising you to stay behind one of the makeup counters.

“I’m gonna tell you when. When I do, hit this button. That’s all. Okay?” You purse your lips, nodding, and crouching despite the nerves being felt in your weak legs. He leaves you behind, the ghost with its back turned as it tears up the poster. From your hiding spot, you can hear it notice him, growling loudly as it charges. He signaled you, and you popped up like a toy, shaky fingers igniting the stream.

He did the same, exclaiming loudly as you immobilized the spirit. He advised you to raise it up slowly, as the phantom flailed around. 

“What now?” You called over the volume of the particle accelerator whirring like crazy on your back, separated from your skin by a spring jacket and a sweater. He didn’t have an answer.

He hesitated. “You didn’t manage to grab a trap while you were out there, did you?” You could have fainted.  You saw his stream falter. “I’ll be right back. Keep holding him- I’ll be two seconds!’

His stream stopped, as he sprinted out the door, nearly slipping on ectoplasm in the process. The ghost thrashed harder, trying to resist the force suspending it in the air. You felt like the weight of holding up an adult alligator suddenly, and your arms couldn’t keep up with its fight. Your stream gave out for a split second, and in that time it was free, and on the floor. It locked eyes with you.

Your cry for Winston echoed throughout the department store- hell, throughout the city as you ran as fast as your legs could take you around the floor once, then up one of the escalators. You skidded to a stop at the end, as the chaos of the escaping crowd managed to knock down a large glass case, sending glass all over the floor. Your momentum didn’t stop you soon enough, and you slid over the shards before falling to the waxed floor. The ghost got closer, sending your heart to your toes as it opened its mouth, expelling a wave of noxious green slime. You saved your pride, ducking out of the way at the last second. You only had a moment to celebrate your triumph, as a quick movement of its ghastly tail reminded you of its ability to interact- and harm, the physical world. 

You got back on your feet, before noticing Winston run back inside out of the corner of your eye. You needed to get back downstairs, but all of the possible ways down were blocked. A large decoration swung from the ceiling, reaching fairly low to the ground. The ghost was creeping closer, teeth bared. If you die, please let your soul haunt the firehouse. 

Your nerves steeled themselves for you, hesitating on the ledge, before taking your literal leap of faith as the ghost lunged forward. You squeezed your eyes shut, only opening them when you felt your sweaty palms make contact with the course rope. You slide quickly, before remembering you actually had to catch the violent apparition. You reach weakly for the gun swinging behind you, forgotten, and feebly aim your gun at the glass part at the railing where it watched you. The glass shatters in its wake, and as you continue your ride down the rope, the ghost is caught in your stream, the speed at which you’re moving dragging it through the air. You reach a safe enough distance to the ground, letting go of your hold on the rope and dropping on your knees unstably. 

Winston’s been watching from the floor, regaining his strategy as the ghost hovers ahead. He sets his stream on it, and kicks a trap directly below. Your ears are ringing, and your heart’s beating at a thousand miles a minute as he calls on you to lower the spirit. With diminished resistance, the ghost is caught in the trap, smoking rising to the ceiling. The entire store is quiet. The smoke reaches the alarms, setting off the sprinklers, and the hostages erupt in celebration.

Winston lays an arm around your shoulder, speaking low into your ear. “I told you, it was easy. You’re amazing.” 

But you're still in a daze, and Winston recognizes it as he gently guides you to the car, avoiding reporters and even a few policemen. Before he takes you to the passenger side and aides you down into the seat, he raises your hand for everyone watching the news in the tri-state to see. 

“Y/N came, saw, and kicked its ass!”

You don’t say much as he drives back to the firehouse, siren on. You suddenly startle back to consciousness, turning to him in disbelief. 

“I caught a ghost.”

“You sure did.”

You laugh weakly, rubbing your eyes. Your laughter picks up, before it turns hysterical. You crank down the window, sticking your upper body out in ecstasy. This was the most alive you’ve felt in your entire adult life, and you let everything in the car’s path know.

“I caught a ghost!” You cry out as the Ecto drives through the city’s streets.

[toriisasimp]

Chapter 1 of ?: Just Ask

An Egon Spengler x fem!reader Mini Series

Prompt: Yet another Ghostbusters press event is nearing, and once the secret is spilled of a certain scientist who wants to take you as a date, you decide to investigate for yourself.

Warnings: None!

A/N: First chapter of a mini series I’m working on. Not sure if it’s actually going to be a mini series or a full fic, but we’ll see! Egon and reader have already kind of been flirting with each other. You’ve also been working at the firehouse for a few months now. Enjoy! <3

-

It was nearing dinner time, and Janine had clocked out early for a date with Louis. You bid her goodnight with a warm smile and wave, and settled yourself behind the receptionist desk, propping up your feet and opening up one of the books you sneaked from Egon’s collection in the lab.

Finally, some peace and quiet..

You hear your name shouted by Peter, who comes stomping down the staircase with Ray hot on his tail.

“Go cool your boyfriend! He won’t listen to us!”

“..He’s not my boyfriend, Venkman.” You specify blankly, only briefly peeking over the top of your book to eye him coming around the corner and walking up to the desk.

“It sure seems like he thinks so.” Ray pipes up, folding his arms.

“What did you guys do to upset him now?” You flip the page, ignoring Ray’s comment.

“We didn’t do anything. He’s just throwing one of those dramatic fits of his where he shuts completely down and doesn’t speak to anyone, other than snapping at Ray for eating all the Cheez-Its.”

“Valid reason to be upset.” You shrug it off. You and Egon are both extremely territorial over your snacks. So much so that you end up labeling them with a permanent marker so the other boys know what they can and can’t touch.

“Not the point. The point is, you need to go up there and work your..” Venkman wiggles his fingers. “Womanly magic to get him to break. It’s getting annoying.”

“What? Not having him correct your incorrect scientific so-called ‘knowledge’,” you throw up some air quotes, “That you just spew out on a whim is annoying?”

“YES.” Ray and Peter both speak at the same time.

You huff and slide the bookmark back into your book before shutting it, pulling your legs off the desk and setting the book down before you rise up.

“It could be that he’s upset because of the gala.” Ray murmurs, more in Peter’s direction.

You pause halfway to the steps, turning your head back around.

“What gala?”

The two of them look at you like they’re a deer in the headlights.

“Whoops.” Ray grits his teeth.

“The gala at the Museum of Natural History? The one you guys got invited to? What about it?”

“You see, he was going to-” Peter starts talking, before Ray sends a fist to his gut from the side.

“Peter!”

“What?” He throws his hands up. “She’s gonna find out soon enough!”

Ray rolls his eyes and grumbles, looking away as Peter rubs the spot on his stomach before continuing.

“He was going to,” His voice lowered a few notches. “He was going to ask you to be his date. But I’m convinced he’s having some emotional conflict and mood swings because he doesn’t think you want to go with him.”

You stand there, in slight shock. “He told you this?” You perk a brow.

“He tells us a lot, kid.” Ray speaks up again, folding his arms once more and leaning against the desk with a slight tilt of his head.

“Of course, ‘bro-code’ or whatever. I get it. I’ll ask him about it-”

“NO!” They both stand swiftly.

“Why?” You stop again, at the bottom of the steps.

“That man will literally, and I mean literally, have our heads if he finds out we told you about that.” Peter pleads.

You go back and forth glaring at both of them, rolling your eyes before sighing.

“Fine, fine. I won’t ask about it.” You slowly start making your way up the steps to the next floor. “But please, give us some privacy. Do not eavesdrop.”

“That’s the spirit, go rub one out for your man!” Peter whoops, and you shake your head.

“You’re disgusting, Venkman.”

-

At the top of the steps, the soft music from a boombox on the kitchen table grows louder, and you spot Egon, with his back facing you. He’s at the corner workbench, hunched over a microscope.

You slowly approach, tugging your shirt sleeves over your hands and folding your arms. You admire him for a moment, how he’s so focused, his hands subtly turning the knobs of the machine to scope in on the slide he’s examining.

“Spengler,” You speak up, and Egon doesn’t even jump, he just murmurs your name in acknowledgement as he stays put in his hunched position.

“Are you doing alright?” You walk up to the bench, leaning against the corner, tilting your head slightly.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be alright?” He speaks again, finally rising up and turning to scribble down some notes in a nearby open notebook.

“Just checking in..” You murmured defensively, approaching even further to stand next to him. “What are you working on?”

“Logging ectoplasm samples,” He turns back from the notebook, catching your gaze for a short moment before hunching back down over the microscope. “Could you help me put them into the system?”

Egon knows how much you genuinely enjoy assisting him in the lab, and you’ve told him to always ask if he wants help.. Or just wants some company.

“Can I see it first?” You motion to the microscope.

“Sure.” He nods, stepping back and giving you space to see the slide for yourself.

You step up to the microscope, squinting one eye so you can see into the scope. The plasm is moving on the slide, the cells wiggling ever so slightly. You stand alone for a moment, before you feel Egon’s hand come to gently rest on your waist.

“What can you see?” He asks, a bit softer.

“Well, it looks like it’s doing a little dance!” You giggle, still intrigued by the slime.

“It’s Psychomagnotheric, which means it responds to human emotional states around it. Positive and negative.”

“You must be pissed or something, cause it’s moving a lot-”

“Aaaand that’s enough of that.” You feel both of his hands on your waist now, pulling you back from the microscope.

“Maan, I was just kidding!” You pout, throwing your hands up and laughing.

“Grab the computer, please.” He shoos you away, and you put a hand up, shaking your head before you spin around and snatch the chunky laptop off the workbench across from you, turning and sliding into one of the swivel chairs at the table before opening the laptop. Egon slides over his open notebook, full of listings and observations of the slime you had looked at.

You immediately get to work putting in the notes into the logging system. You feel an itch in your head to bring up the gala.

“I heard that gala at the museum is in a few days. Are you going?” You ask. Start vague.

Egon freezes at the microscope, rising up to look at you.

“Are you?” He asks in return, not answering your question.

“That depends, are you?” You shoot back, perking a brow and pausing your typing.

You swear you see a slight tint of pink on Egon’s cheeks, as he shifts and leans against the workbench.

“I’ll go if you go.” He states as casually as possible, even though his discomfort is visible.

“I was gonna go if you went.” You shrug, trying to making it as relaxed as possible.

“We could go together.” He adds, his eyes not leaving yours.

You glance down at the computer for a brief moment before looking back up at him, taking your turn for the heat to creep up to your cheeks. You silently nod.

“Are you going to wear a tux?” You ask before your brain can stop you.

Egon tilts his head, a subtle smirk playing at his lips.

“Why? Does it matter to you?”

“No, no! I’m just.. curious. If it’s black tie, then I’m just.. just curious!”

“Curious.. right. Well, I don’t go to many social events, but perhaps I’ll make an exception and see what I can find.” He keeps his eyes on you, folding his arms across his chest- the smirk still stamped to his face.

An exception?

You nod. “Sounds good. We’ll go together.” You state again, setting it in stone- sending him a smirk of your own before looking back down at the computer, returning back to your work.

Egon eyes you for a few more seconds, noticing how the light of the desk lamp hit your face.. Jesus.

He quickly turned back to the microscope before he could get caught gawking over you, returning to the task at hand as well.

Both of you continued your work, and you were first to call it a night- around 2 AM. Egon’s hand brushed over yours as you handed him back his notebook, and he bid you goodnight- watching you walk away and disappear into the sleeping quarters.

Little did you know, he was sharing your same thoughts that night- imagining what the other was going to look like at the gala. But another thought teased your mind as you fell asleep.

If the slime reacted to positive and negative emotions from humans..

What else would it react to?

-

<3

[muschiettistrashmouth]

What would be Zeddemore's favorite movie? It's for a fic.

[spenglersweetheart]

IDEA IDEA IDEA

In the second movie, reader joins the ghostbusters again after they disbanded in the first movie and it seems everyone forgot how capable they actually are and the attitude they can have when catching ghosts

:0 oooh i can do this

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

You Forgot How Capable I Was

there's definitely a reader but this is all platonic!

WARNINGS : none!

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

YOU WERE MORE THAN HAPPY TO BE BACK WITH YOUR buddies working again. You were happy that the Ghostbusters were officially back together, back to working and catching ghosts. You were getting sick and tired of the teaching job that you had. You didn't mind teaching kids, you loved it. But sometimes, that was exhausting. So much more exhausting than catching ghosts.

But, there was something definitely off when you started back. You could barely help anyone. Or, the others wouldn't let you help them.

Whenever there was a call, they wanted you to stay behind. You didn't know the reason for this. The first time they banded, you were allowed to call on calls with them. Well, at least you could file the samples. Until that was pretty much taken away. So, sometimes you were stuck with Janine. And that wasn't a bad thing.

But you missed the adrenaline of ghostbusting. So why wouldn't they let you go with them?

There had been a call somewhere on 42nd. They four were pretty much three now. Peter had caught the flu and he couldn't go out on the bust with them. The fact that you had to beg and plead for you to join them kind of hurt, but at least you got to go on this one.

It was a bookstore. It was closed for the day because of the weird things that had been going on in there. It was pretty huge, and you had suggested to split up so that you guys could cover more ground. They pretty much looked at you like you were crazy, but they eventually agreed.

You covered one part of the bookstore. You happened to sense something on your PKE meter when you passed a bookshelf. You check in between the horror section. There it was.

"Guys," you say into your radio, "I found it, I'm gonna hold it off."

"Wait until we get there," Egon told you.

"By the time you guys get here it'll go away," you sigh, turning on the proton back.

"Y / N ..."

"Egon, I got it," you grumble, before shooting the ghost.

You weren't listening to them. Not after they pretty much forgot that you used to be a Ghostbuster, too. You keep the ghost stunned. You manage to glance behind the steam, spotting Ray on the other side of the aisle.

"Ray, I got it," you told him, bring the trap over.

You're calm. It's the three others that are slightly freaking out over you. You couldn't believe that they did that. You didn't know what had gotten into them. So, you had to prove to them.

Ray slides the ghost trap over, and you actually put it in the trap. All by yourself. Without any of the others' help.

Egon and Winston made it over to you not too long after you put the ghost in.

"You did it," Winston said to you.

You look behind you. "Yeah, of course I did," you replied, "I've known how to do this. You guys just forgot how capable I was."

You pretty much push past them, knowing that this would probably be your last bust in a while.

"We're sorry," you hear Egon's voice say.

You turn back around. "Why did you guys keep me from helping?" You ask, "I've done this just as long as you guys have. I was so happy to finally be together again as a brand. As a family. And you guys just ... I dunno."

"We were worried," Ray admitted, "Because we know how much you liked that job as a teacher. We didn't want something to happen to you. Especially because those kids love you."

You frowned. That was actually a sweet gesture. And you knew that you couldn't be mad at them forever. "Wait ... Really?"

"Really," Winston told you, "We didn't want their favorite teacher getting hurt."

"Well, that's very sweet of you guys. But, I will be fine. I have you guys. You wouldn't let anything happen to me," you explain to them, "And I wouldn't let anything happen to myself."

The other three were quiet for a while. Maybe keeping you from doing this kind of job was the wrong decision for them. You were actually a great addition to the team, and they loved having you.

"So, am I back on the team?" You ask.

Ray gives you a nod. "Welcome back to the team, Y / N."

[spenglerssweetheart]

Lovin’ Mama

Pairing: Winston Zeddemore x Fem! Reader.

Description: Being married to a ghostbuster is one thing, Though, having another person ruin your surprise is a whole ‘nother. Maybe it’s not so bad after all.

Warnings: Slight language, pregnant reader, Peter being a major ass, slight ooc characters. (If I miss anything let me know)

“Janine!?” Y/n yelled out from upstairs, asking for the redhead who stood rather quickly to go help her friend. “I’m sorry Janine, but are the guys back yet?” She asked as Janine had began to help her down the stairs. “No Y/n, they haven’t gotten back yet, did you need anything?” “Well Egon is out of sweets and that’s the only things these two want” She said pointing at her large belly. Before realizing what she had said, she covered her mouth as Janine had stared with wide eyes. “Oh Y/n Your having twins! That’s amazing!” Janine exclaimed as Louis came walking into the main area where the two were.

“Who’s having Twins?” He asked as he looked through other papers he had in his hands. Janine quickly realized her mistake before she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “Did I say someone was having twins?” Janine asked with a huff as Y/n laughed to herself quietly. “Oh hi Y/n, I didn’t see you there” Louis greeted with a wave before turning back to Janine. I just wanted to know if we were good for lunch again is all?” He asked the red head who nodded with a gentle smile on her face.

Before Y/n could continue to tease Janine, the main doors were being pulled open by Egon and Ray, Winston having been driving. As he pulled the car in and parked, he took out a cigarette and lit it before stepping out of the ecto-1. “Looks like they’re here” Janine mumbled as she went back behind the small desk she was always at.

As the guys came out, Y/n stood and watched, her hand on her lower back to support herself as she held onto the railing of the staircase. As Peter walked passed he grinned at Y/n, only to begin to say something. “Keep walking Venkman.” Y/n hummed, waiting for Winston to finish up what he was doing.

As Winston Quickly helped way with the traps, as he passed Y/n he pecked her cheek before going down to clean them, coming back up rather quickly. Coming up behind Y/n, his hands trailed around her belly as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Leaning into it, she smiled before pulling away to face him. “We need to talk, but you need to shower.” She grinned as he looked down at her, before she pulled away to go back up the stairs where she could rest once more. Winston was quick to help her back up the stairs, seeing how she was already having trouble walking. And by that, she was waddling.

Once they both made it up the stairs, Winston was quick to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Go shower, your gonna get slime all over me” Y/n urged as she turned away from him. With a roll of his eyes, Winston uttered a small Fine before he headed to the showers.

As Y/n watched him walk off, she went to the kitchen where she knew she would find Egon either making a cup of coffee or smacking something sweet. Entering, she found him there, waiting for his coffee before greeting Y/n with a small hello. “Egon, you’re out of sweets…But do you think you could hold on at least until tomorrow?” Y/n had said as she leant against the table, before deciding to move to the couch to sit, Egon helping her move each time.

“I should, I don’t see why not?” He responded, his eyebrow raising in curiosity as he wondered what Y/n had up her sleeve. “How are you and the baby?” Egon asked, Y/n only looking back at him with a happy smile before replying. “We’re great, though I hate how I am now waddling” She laughed softly, as she looked down at her stomach before sighing.

With a snort, Peter came up in clean clothes and damp hair. Y/n laid down on the couch so that Peter wouldn’t bother her and Egon simply turned back to his coffee. “Venkman whatever bullshit you have today, can it wait for a day that I am not with child” “you mean children” he corrected quickly, having heard the news from Janine. Sitting up as quick as she could, which wasn’t really quick, she looked at him with wide eyes.

“How do you know that?” She asked as he leant against the wall, a smug smirk on his face. “Janine spilled, she’s not so great under pressure” He boasted as Y/n closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, Egon taking that as his cue to leave. Muttering something under her breath, Y/n put her head in her hands as Peter watched smugly. “I’m sorry what was that sweetheart”

“Peter Elizabeth Venkman, you are very lucky I will not murder you in your sleep with your own proton pack” Y/n shouted, a glare on her face as she watched him stand, crossing his arms in fake hurt. “You want to hurt me? I’m wounded Y/n, so very wounded.” Shortly after he quieted down, Winston and Ray came up, seeing that Y/n was standing once more, slipping her shoes on as she kept her glare on Peter. “What did you do?” Winston asked as Y/n put her face in her hands in frustration, knowing Peter was going to tell.

In all honesty, she had wanted it to be a surprise, she wanted to bake all kinds of things for them, but now that was about to be ruined. “Oh I just found out from Janine that a certain someone is having twins” Peter repeated, Ray becoming happier at the news while Winston stared at Y/n in shock. The room became silent, Making Y/n more nervous, so nervous, small sobs were heard coming from her.

The three became surprised at her reaction to this, leading to Ray pulling Peter out of the room by his arm, who was very shocked at how she was being. Winston watched the two leave with a nod before pulling Y/n back to the couch, pulling her close as he rubbed her arms. Winston wasn’t upset or anything, he was just confused as to why she didn’t tell any sooner.

“Y/n sweetheart, I’m not upset, Just- Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Winston asked as he rubbed her arm comfortingly. “I just- I found out today, and I wanted to surprise- you guys tomorrow” She explained through broken sobs. “That’s literally- why I wanted to talk to you” She added, leaning into him some more. He nodded against her head as he kissed her head gently.

After a bit, Y/n had calmed down, sort of just staring into space as she sat against her husband who was running his fingers over hers, specifically her ring finger. “You Know I didn’t think I would be ready to have kids after the whole ordeal with Vigo” Winston started, Looking down at Y/n who had now turned to face him. “Yeah? You seemed really eager when you found out I was pregnant” Y/n said softly, Winston only grinning at his wife. “I never thought I would have gotten married to such an outstanding woman, who is also going to have my boys” “ah ah, Girls”

“They’ll look just like you” Winston grinned as he pecked her forehead. “And they’ll have a lovin’ mama there to take care of em’” Winston added, now pecking her lips, making her grin. Y/n leant up to peck his lips once more before she stood once more, Winston helping her. “Where are you going now?” “To go strangle Peter and his loud mouth” “May I join you Mrs. Zeddemore?” “You may” She smiled softly as Winston quickly got up to join her, holding her hand and belly in the process.

I did it!! I got something else out!!. I hope you lovelies enjoyed this as much as I did, I originally wanted this to be a cute and cuddly thing but switched it the moment I realized I could add some drama. I honestly would’ve hated if someone went and ruined my surprise like that, but we all have different ways of dealing. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and have a wonderful morning/afternoon or evening whenever you see this. I love you! <3