julia-lestrade

[julia-lestrade]

Weezer Graphics

Not mine, if you are the owner please ask if you would like credit/removal

[julia-lestrade]

Ride or Die

Akira Fanfiction

Kaneda x fem!reader

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You never meant to fall for Kaneda.

You were pretty sure you spent most of your time actively avoiding that exact outcome. But when your best friend Kei was practically family to him and his band of troublemakers, there was only so much distance you could keep.

Not that Kaneda made it easy.

Cocky, loud, and reckless, he was the kind of guy who treated life like a game. He got in trouble just to see if he could get out of it, smiled like he owned the world, and flirted like it was second nature.

And yet, somehow, every time you found yourself in trouble, he was there.

A Stupid Bet. . . It started with Kei.

“You like him,” she said one afternoon, completely out of nowhere.

You choked on your drink. “What?“

She smirked. “You heard me.”

“You—ugh, Kei, no. Absolutely not.”

She rested her chin on her hand. “Bet you can’t spend a whole day with him without smiling.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s dumb.

“Then prove me wrong.”

And that was how you ended up stuck with Kaneda for an entire Saturday.

Riding Shotgun

It started, predictably, with his bike.

“Ever been on one before?” Kaneda asked, straddling his seat like he knew he looked good doing it.

“Not with you,” you said, arms crossed.

“Well, lucky you,” he grinned. “You’re about to have the best day of your life.”

You sighed. “Doubt it.”

But the second the engine roared and he took off, the wind tearing through your hair, you had to bite back a laugh.

Not that you’d ever admit it.

He took you everywhere—dodging traffic like he had a death wish, taking sharp turns that made you swear under your breath, stopping at a tiny ramen shop where he somehow knew the owner.

“You bring all your girls here?” you teased, blowing on your soup.

“Nah,” he said, slurping his noodles. “Just the ones who can keep up.”

You hated how that made your heart skip

The Moment It Changed

By sunset, you found yourselves on a rooftop overlooking the city, his bike parked below.

You sat side by side, the quiet settling between you in a way that wasn’t awkward for once.

“You were right,” you admitted, staring at the skyline.

Kaneda glanced over. “About what?”

You sighed. “Today was fun.”

His smirk was instant. “Knew it.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late.”

A breite rolled past, and you shivered before you could stop yourself

Without a word, Kaneda shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

You blinked. “What are you—”

“Just take it,” he muttered, not looking at you.

For once, he wasn’t being cocky. Just… genuine.

Something tightened in your chest.

“…Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Act like you don’t care,” you said, gripping the jacket. “Like nothing ever gets to you.”

Kaneda exhaled through his nose.

“I dunno,” he said. “Guess it’s easier that way.”You frowned. “Easier than what?”

His jaw clenched slightly, like he didn’t want to say it. But then he turned toward you, his usual smirk gone, replaced with something softer.

“…Easier than wanting something I can’t have.”

Your breath caught.

“Kaneda—”

“I’m serious,” he said, voice lower now. “I know I’m an idiot. I know I’m reckless. And I know you deserve someone better than me. But I can’t help it.”

Your heart pounded. “Kaneda, you—”

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t cocky. It wasn’t teasing. It was real. A little uncertain at first, like he wasn’t sure if he was crossing a line—but then you kissed him back, and he exhaled against your lips, tilting his head to deepen it just slightly.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his hands still cradling your face.

“…So,” he breathed, voice just a little unsteady. “Did I win the bet?”

You laughed softly, gripping the front of his shirt. “Shut up and kiss me again.”

And for once, Kaneda didn’t have a snarky comeback. Just a grin—your reckless idiot—before he did exactly that.

I am a devoted kaneda simp …

I Need more if him !

[julia-lestrade]

Mechanic at the junkyard

Paring : Dean McCoppin x fem!reader

Tw: Romance

The sun was high over the scrap towers of Dean’s junkyard. Metallic gleams danced in the distance as you leaned over a stubborn weld on the Iron Giant’s shoulder joint. Your grease-streaked coveralls clung to your frame, and a smudge of oil painted your cheek. The Giant sat patiently, head tilted slightly as if curious about your work.

“Careful there,” Dean’s familiar voice called from behind you, a teasing lilt threading through. “That big lug’s got feelings, y’know. You shock him in the wrong place, and we’ll all get a surprise.”

You chuckled ore more like huffing , glancing over your shoulder at him. Dean stood with his hands being occupied by holding two espresso , his signature black turtleneck and brown jacket dusted with rust and sawdust. His hair was slightly tousled, no doubt from some harebrained artistic project he’d been working on earlier.

“I’ve got it under control, McCoppin,” you replied, adjusting your welding goggles. “I’m not the one who turned a spare fender into a… what was it again? A coffee table or a modern art monstrosity , oh is it a personalised shrine for me ?”

Dean’s smirk widened, and he sauntered over, carrying two mugs of coffee. “It’s functional art, sweetheart,” he corrected, handing you one of the mugs. “But I’ll forgive the jab since you’re single-handedly keeping this junkyard’s biggest customer in working order.”

You took the mug (cup?) gratefully, blowing on the steaming liquid before setting it aside. The Giant shifted slightly, the sound of creaking metal drawing both your attention.

“Easy, big guy,” you said, patting his massive forearm. “I’m almost done. Just a few more tweaks, and you’ll be good as new.”

Dean leaned on a nearby pile of scrap, watching you work with an amused glint in his eye. “You’re really something, you know that? Not many people could handle a fifty foot-tall robot like it’s just another carburetor.” ( is he 50 foot-tall ? Idk)

You snorted, reaching for your wrench. “Not many people are as stubborn as me, you mean.”

“That too,” he said with a grin. “But you’ve got talent. And guts. You don’t scare easy.”

You paused for a moment, meeting his gaze. Dean had a way of complimenting you that felt genuine, even when it was laced with sarcasm. It wasn’t something you were used to, and it caught you off guard every time.

“Thanks, Dean,” you said softly before turning back to your work.

For a while, the only sounds were the occasional clank of metal and the Giant’s low, rumbling hums of acknowledgment as you adjusted his joint. Dean stayed nearby, sometimes offering a tool before you even asked for it.

“You ever think about what you’d do if you weren’t fixing robots and patching up junk?” Dean asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

You laughed. “Like what? Become a poet? A fashion designer? Nah, this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Dean chuckled. “Hard to picture you in business clothing , yeah.”

“Exactly.” You tightened the last bolt, then wiped your hands on your coveralls. “Besides, this job has its perks.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

You smirked, turning to him. “Free coffee, great company, and the occasional russianish alienish robot repair gig. What more could a girl want?”

Dean tilted his head, his expression softening. “Yeah, well, the company isn’t too bad on my end either.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly busied yourself packing up your tools. Dean’s rare moments of sincerity always threw you for a loop.

“All right, big guy,” you said to the Giant, ignoring the warmth creeping up your neck. “You’re all set. Try moving that arm.”

The Giant raised his repaired limb, flexing it experimentally before giving a pleased beep and a thumbs-up. You grinned, stepping back to admire your work.

“Looks like I’m still the best mechanic in Rockwell,” you said, throwing a playful glance at Dean.

Dean laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Yeah, yeah. You win this round, greasy oil sack .”

As the Giant wandered off to explore the junkyard, you felt Dean step closer. When you turned, he was right there, a hint of hesitation in his expression.

“You know,” he began, scratching the back of his neck, “if you ever, uh, wanted to do more than just fix stuff around here… maybe grab dinner or something… I wouldn’t say no.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you managed to keep your cool. Barely.

“Well,” you said, crossing your arms with a grin, “you’d better keep the coffee flowing and the junkyard stocked. A girl’s got standards, you know.”

Dean’s laughter echoed through the junkyard as he tipped an imaginary hat to you. “Deal.”

As the Giant let out a curious whistle in the distance, you and Dean stood there, the smell of oil and coffee mingling in the air. Maybe working in a junkyard wasn’t so bad after all.

Authors Note : I don’t know if this was to pick me like ore not bc I tried write something new

[julia-lestrade]

Damn I have never in my life noticed how good looking dean is … just damn

[julia-lestrade]

Drew a bug today

[julia-lestrade]

Ong guys she is just too good 😌

Art dump and the refs I used

[julia-lestrade]

I tried my best to do him justice!!! 💘 🥰

[julia-lestrade]

Subway surfer but romance and no subway so actually just the jumping part

Nikto(cod) x gn!reader

The plane hummed steadily as it climbed higher into the endless expanse of blue sky. You sat on the bench, strapped into your harness, your heart pounding in sync with the dull roar of the engines. Across from you, Nikto sat calm and composed, his cold, calculating eyes fixed on the horizon.

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” he remarked, his voice muffled slightly by his mask.

“I’m fine,” you shot back, though your grip on the edge of your seat said otherwise.

He tilted his head, unconvinced. “First time?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. You’d always wanted to try skydiving, but now that the moment was here, the idea of jumping out of a perfectly good airplane at 13,000 feet seemed… less appealing.

Nikto leaned forward slightly, his gloved hands resting on his knees. “It’s not the fall you should be worried about,” he said, his tone completely deadpan.

Your eyes widened. “What do you mean by that?”

The faintest hint of amusement flickered in his eyes. “Relax. You’ll be fine. Just don’t forget to pull the cord.”

“Great pep talk,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

The instructor called out that it was almost time, and the other skydivers in the group began checking their gear. Nikto rose to his feet smoothly, as if the altitude and the idea of jumping didn’t faze him in the slightest. You, on the other hand, felt your legs wobble as you stood.

“You’re overthinking it,” Nikto said, stepping closer. His presence was steadying, even with that ever-intimidating mask. “When the door opens, just follow me.”

The door rolled open, and a rush of wind filled the cabin. Your heart leapt into your throat as you peered out at the endless void below.

“Ready?” the instructor shouted.

Nikto gave you a glance over his shoulder. “Don’t think. Just jump.”

Before you could second-guess yourself, he stepped forward and launched himself out of the plane. You froze for a split second, watching him disappear into the sky, his figure shrinking rapidly.

“Your turn!” the instructor yelled, nudging you forward.

Taking a shaky breath, you stepped to the edge. The wind roared in your ears as you stared down at the earth far below. The logical part of your brain screamed at you to back out, but the memory of Nikto’s calm confidence spurred you on.

“Okay, okay!” you shouted, and with a burst of courage, you jumped.

The initial drop was a rush like nothing you’d ever felt before—pure adrenaline coursed through your veins as the wind tore past you. For a moment, panic gripped you, but then you caught sight of Nikto just ahead, arms spread wide as he fell effortlessly through the sky.

You let out a shaky laugh, the fear melting into exhilaration.

He glanced back, noticing you keeping pace. With a subtle motion, he gestured for you to follow as he adjusted his position, spinning gracefully in the air. You hesitated, then mimicked his movements, laughing aloud when you managed a clumsy spin.

The ground began to rush closer, and Nikto signaled for you to pull your parachute. You fumbled for a second but managed to yank the cord. The chute deployed with a loud snap, yanking you upward. The sudden shift in pace made you gasp, but soon you were floating gently, the view stretching endlessly in every direction.

Nikto glided nearby, his parachute perfectly deployed. “Not bad for a rookie,” he called out, his voice carried faintly by the wind.

“Not bad?” you shouted back. “I nailed it!”

He gave a rare chuckle, a sound that was both unexpected and oddly reassuring. “Next time, we’ll try something harder.”

“Next time?” you called out, laughing. “Let’s survive this one first!”

As you drifted closer to the landing zone, your heart still raced, but a wide grin spread across your face. Skydiving with Nikto was terrifying and exhilarating, but you couldn’t deny one thing: it was an experience you’d never forget.

And one that you would bring up at the next Christmas dinner party to get some fu out of it even afterwards…

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I don’t really know anything about nikto so I just hope y’all liked it like somehow !!! 😭

[julia-lestrade]

Becoming the bate itself

Pairing : Gaz x reader ( can be read gn! But is intended to be female)

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You stood at the edge of the small wooden dock, the sun warming your shoulders as you tightened your grip on the fishing rod. Beside you, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick sat on a tackle box, sunglasses perched on his nose and his ever-present bucket hat shielding him from the midday sun.

“Relax, love,” he chuckled as he cast his line smoothly into the lake. “You’re holding that rod like it’s about to bite back.”

“Maybe it will,” you retorted, squinting at the water. You weren’t much of a fisher, but when Gaz suggested a quiet day by the lake, you couldn’t say no.

The two of you sat in companionable silence for a while, listening to the gentle lap of the water and the occasional chirp of a bird. Gaz glanced over at you, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Bet you’ll scream if you actually catch something,” he teased.

“Bet you’ll fall off that box before I do,” you shot back, grinning.

Gaz laughed and shook his head. “We’ll see, then. Loser buys dinner.”

A sudden tug on your line jolted you forward, and you let out an excited yelp. “Got one!”

Gaz stood quickly, his hand hovering near yours as you struggled to reel it in. “Easy now, don’t rush it,” he coached, his voice calm and reassuring.

“I know, I know,” you muttered, gritting your teeth. The fish fought back, pulling harder with every crank of the reel. You took one step closer to the edge of the dock, trying to gain leverage.

“Careful—” Gaz started, but it was too late.

The fish gave one final, powerful tug, and you lost your balance. With a startled gasp, you stumbled backward—grabbing Gaz’s arm in a desperate attempt to steady yourself. Unfortunately for both of you, the combination of your weight and his surprise sent the two of you toppling into the water with a loud splash.

You surfaced first, spluttering and wiping water from your eyes. “Kyle!” you groaned.

He emerged a moment later, his sunglasses gone but his hat somehow still clinging to his head. “Bloody hell,” he said, shaking water from his face. “Why’d you drag me in too?”

“It was an accident!” you protested, though you couldn’t help laughing at the sight of him—his usually composed expression replaced with one of sheer disbelief.

Gaz narrowed his eyes at you, his lips twitching as if he were trying not to laugh. “You’re lucky I didn’t lose my hat,” he said, adjusting it with exaggerated care.

“I’d say the hat is lucky,” you shot back, swimming toward the dock.

He followed, grinning now. “Next time, maybe stick to dry land, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes as he hoisted you back onto the dock, dripping wet but smiling. “Next time, I’ll just leave you in the water.

“Sure, you will,” he said, sitting down beside you again. His hat dripped as he reached for his rod. “But you still owe me dinner.”

You groaned but couldn’t stop smiling. The day hadn’t gone quite as planned, but somehow, it was even better that way.

And you were looking forward to have more moments like this in the future with him …

Idk every time I see him on screen I just think that he be one of those guys that would have not even a single picture of themselfs and their friends but millions of fish and their partner!

😭 I hope y’all liked it !!

[julia-lestrade]

Omg guys should I start writing for adventure time ? Like have you seen farm world Finn when he is grown up ?!

I am awestruck 🤤

[julia-lestrade]

A Soap-y Christmas

Soap x gn! reader

Tw: fluff , romance

Snow fell gently on the Scottish Highlands, blanketing the rolling hills in pristine white. You tightened your scarf as the frosty wind nipped at your cheeks, following the sound of cheerful humming coming from the kitchen. John had been at it all morning, clattering pots and pans, claiming he was preparing a “proper Christmas feast.” You had your doubts.

“Johnny,” you called, stepping into the cozy kitchen, the aroma of something savory mixing with what you suspected was… burnt cookies? “Are you trying to poison me for Christmas or what?”

“Oi, don’t you start with me!” Soap spun around dramatically, a dusting of flour on his cheeks and a candy cane tucked behind one ear. He was wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater you’d ever seen—a knitted monstrosity featuring a winking Santa holding a pint of beer. “This is culinary artistry at work!”

You stifled a laugh. “Looks more like culinary chaos.”

He grinned, brandishing a wooden spoon like a soldier ready for battle. “Mock all you like, but I’ve got Gordon Ramsay shaking in his boots.”

Leaning against the counter, you watched him stir a pot of something suspiciously thick. John was the definition of unpredictable, but he wore his heart on his sleeve—especially when it came to holidays. It was his idea to rent the little cottage for Christmas, insisting it was the perfect getaway from the chaos of work. He wanted a “proper” holiday, complete with mistletoe, a roaring fire, and enough food to feed an army.

“Alright, let me help before you burn the place down,” you teased, reaching for a nearby dish.

He held up a hand dramatically. “No way. You’re the guest of honor. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the magic.”

You crossed your arms, quirking a brow. “Magic? Is that what we’re calling this?”

He laughed, and the sound was warm enough to rival the crackling fire in the living room. “Trust me. It’ll be grand.”

Hours later, you sat at the candlelit table, the feast laid out before you. To your astonishment, the food looked… edible. More than that, it looked incredible. A perfectly roasted turkey sat in the center, surrounded by golden potatoes, bright cranberry sauce, and steaming bowls of sides.

“See?” He said proudly, sliding into the chair beside you. “Told ya I could cook.”

“You had me worried with all the smoke earlier,” you joked, raising your glass. “But this is amazing. Merry Christmas, Johnny.”

His grin softened, and for a moment, his usual bravado gave way to something more sincere. “Merry Christmas, bonnie. Here’s to a year full of laughter, chaos, and you putting up with me.”

The two of you clinked glasses, and as the snow continued to fall outside, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect Christmas.

After dinner, you found yourselves curled up on the couch, a cozy blanket draped over both of you. John handed you a small, neatly wrapped gift, his expression surprisingly shy.

“Go on,” he urged, scratching the back of his neck.

Curious, you tore into the paper, revealing a simple wooden ornament carved in the shape of a snowflake. Your name was etched delicately in the center, along with the date.

“Did you make this?” you asked, touched by the thoughtful gesture.

“Aye,” he admitted, cheeks pink. “Figured we’d need somethin’ to remember this by.”

You leaned closer, your heart full. “You’re full of surprises, MacTavish.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Only the best for you, lass.

And as the fire crackled and the snow glittered under the moonlight, you knew this Christmas would be one you’d cherish forever.

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I hope y’all liked it ❣️ merry Christmas and happy holidays! 😙 💖

[julia-lestrade]

Ok I did it here it is !!!! And this is my first ever request! ❤️ idk if chubby is the same as plus size but chubby sounds a little more friendly so I used it instead! I hope it still is what you wanted !

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Maybe Paperwork isn’t that bad at all …

Chris Kratt x chubby!reader

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The usually lively Wild Kratts headquarters was unusually quiet, save for the soft hum of the computer and the rhythmic scratching of pens on paper. You were seated at the long wooden table in the main room, a stack of forms in front of you that seemed to grow rather than shrink as the hours passed.

Chris Kratt sat across from you, his signature enthusiasm slightly dimmed under the weight of the day’s task: paperwork.

“This,” Chris groaned, rubbing his temples, “has to be the least exciting part of wildlife work.”

You snorted softly, flipping through another form. “What did you expect? Running an animal rescue network, documenting species, and managing resources doesn’t just happen magically.”

He sighed dramatically, dropping his pen and leaning back in his chair. “I know, I know. But wouldn’t it be more fun to be out there? Tracking jaguars, swinging through the trees with gibbons—literally anything but this.”

“You say that like I wouldn’t also prefer to be doing that,” you said with a smirk. “But someone has to make sure this grant application is filled out correctly, or there won’t be any jaguar tracking.”

Chris sat up straighter, narrowing his eyes. “You’re good at this, you know. Staying organized, keeping things running smoothly. It’s impressive.”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was teasing or serious. “It’s not exactly thrilling work.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not important,” Chris said earnestly. “Honestly, I think Martin and I would’ve crashed and burned a long time ago without people like you keeping us on track.”

You felt your cheeks warm at the compliment. Chris always had a way of making you feel seen and appreciated, even in the most mundane moments.

“Flattery isn’t going to make this paperwork do itself, you know,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

He laughed, picking up his pen again. “Worth a shot.”

As the hours ticked by, you and Chris worked side by side, occasionally breaking the silence with small talk or jokes. You found that his presence made the tedious task bearable, even enjoyable at times.

At one point, Chris leaned over, squinting at your pile of papers. “How do you stay so focused? My brain starts melting after about twenty minutes of this.”

“Years of practice,” you said with a grin. “Also, snacks help.” You pulled a small bag of trail mix from your bag and tossed it to him.

Chris caught it easily, his face lighting up. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t forget it,” you teased, though your heart did a little flip at his grateful smile.

By the time the last form was signed and filed, the two of you were slumped in your chairs, exhausted but triumphant.

“We did it,” Chris said, raising an imaginary trophy over his head. “Paperwork champions of the world!”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I don’t think that’s a title anyone’s going to fight us for.”

“Still, it’s an accomplishment,” he said, his voice softer now. “And it’s nice, working with you like this. Even if it’s not out in the wild, it still feels… important.”

You looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “It is important. And honestly? It’s nice working with you too.”

Chris’s smile widened, and for a moment, the exhaustion melted away. “You know, next time we’re stuck with paperwork, we should make it more fun. Maybe play some music, or turn it into a game.”

“Only if you promise not to let Martin join in,” you said with a laugh. “He’d find a way to make it competitive.”

Chris laughed too, shaking his head. “Deal. Just you and me, conquering the wild world of bureaucracy.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, feeling a little spark of warmth at the thought.

As the two of you cleaned up the table and prepared to call it a night, you realized that even the dullest tasks could feel meaningful with the right person by your side.

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I hope that you guys like it! 🐠

Hey, I was wondering if you can write more Chris Kratt x Reader fanfic please? Could be just fluff or a little angst to fluff/comfort fluff, either way works.

Also, a little add on, will it be possible to incorporate a plus-size reader into the mix? I just wanted to see how it may look when you write, or if you write it. Sorry if this is a lot, but I would greatly appreciate it.

Thank you! 💕💕

[julia-lestrade]

Guys I am still writing the soap one but the next two are Gaz and nikto!

So imma let you guys choose and I will write for the top two winners! If you have a special request just write a comment with his / her name ! And ps I do not write smut‼️

[julia-lestrade]

Hey, I was wondering if you can write more Chris Kratt x Reader fanfic please? Could be just fluff or a little angst to fluff/comfort fluff, either way works.

Also, a little add on, will it be possible to incorporate a plus-size reader into the mix? I just wanted to see how it may look when you write, or if you write it. Sorry if this is a lot, but I would greatly appreciate it.

Thank you! 💕💕

[julia-lestrade]

Christmas on base

König x reader

Christmas Eve on base wasn’t meant to be anything special, but you and König had decided otherwise. The common room had been transformed—if you could call it that—with strings of mismatched lights, a crooked tree someone (König) had “borrowed” from storage, and the smell of cookies wafting through the air. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something, and for this team of misfits, it was enough.

König stood by the counter, awkwardly maneuvering a tray of cookies fresh from the oven. His apron—stamped with Kiss the Cook—was a size too small, barely covering his broad chest, which only made the whole scene more ridiculous. Across the room, you were standing with Gaz, trying to guide him as he attempted to fix the leaning star on top of the tree.

“Don’t force it,” you called, crossing your arms. “You’ll break it.”

“I’m not forcing it!” Gaz grunted, wobbling slightly on the chair he was standing on. “Why’s this thing so bloody flimsy?”

“Because someone didn’t get a proper tree stand,” you replied, casting a pointed look at König.

König shrugged without turning around. “The quartermaster would have said no,” he said, his voice low but unapologetic.

“That’s because you stole it,” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

Before König could grumble a response, Price walked in, pausing to take in the scene. His eyebrows rose slightly as he noticed the two of you—him carefully arranging cookies on a plate, you directing Gaz like a drill sergeant. “Didn’t know bickering was part of Christmas tradition,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

“This isn’t bickering,” König said, setting the cookies down with surprising delicacy for a man his size. “This is…coordination.”

“Right,” Price drawled.

Soap and Ghost arrived next, Soap immediately zeroing in on the cookies. You intercepted him halfway. “Hands off,” you said, pointing a finger at his chest. “You’re not eating until everyone’s here.”

“You’re worse than my mum,” Soap complained, stepping back.

“Maybe you should listen to her, then,” Ghost muttered, his tone dry as dust.

By the time everyone was seated, the room was filled with warmth and a kind of chaotic energy only Task Force 141 could bring. König carved the ham with precision, his massive hands making the knife look like a toy, while you flitted around the table, making sure everyone had enough food.

“Do they always act like this?” Gaz whispered to Ghost, nodding toward you and König as you debated the proper time to serve the mulled wine.

“Like an old married couple,” Ghost replied, his eyes crinkling with quiet amusement.

Eventually, the plates were cleared, Soap’s terrible Secret Santa gifts were unwrapped (earning groans all around), and the mulled wine was finally poured. You found yourself standing by König as the team settled into laughter and easy conversation, the two of you surveying your handiwork.

“Not bad,” you said, nudging his arm lightly.

“Not bad at all,” König agreed, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

The crooked tree leaned a little farther, and the lights flickered ominously, but none of it mattered. For one night, amidst the chaos of their lives, you and König had managed to bring everyone together—and for that, it was a Christmas worth remembering.

Hope y’all enjoyed it! 😙 🎄 ho ho ho merry early Christmas!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[julia-lestrade]

So imma let you guys choose and I will write for the top two winners! If you have a special request just write a comment with his / her name ! And ps I do not write smut‼️

[julia-lestrade]

Ja k you Guy did it ! Imma Write the König one First and Theke Soap! Imma Release another pull for the next two!

Have fun y’all imma write the top two !

Correction I thought Garrick was long for Gary!!!!(roach)