Question Time!

Question time!

I'm thinking about writing Welcome Home fanfics (all sfw ofc, we respect Clown's boundaries here). I was wondering if anyone would be interested in that? And if so, what would you be interested in seeing? Please let me know!

Hello!

I know I haven’t been posting for very long, but I thought I would take the time to say that - due to exams - I won’t be posting as frequently for about a month. I’ll try and keep up posting, but I probably won’t do much, sorry about that!

Introduction

As a kid born right before the turn of the new millennium, you were born about 30 years too late to watch the kids puppet show Welcome home - but that never stopped you. Your mother had the VHS tapes of the original show, every episode and every season of it, and you'd watch as many episodes as you could after school every night. It got to the point that you knew some of the episodes off by heart. The big blue dog - Barnaby - was always your favourite. In fact, you had a small, blue, stuffed dog that you named after your favourite character despite it looking nothing like him.

Even as an adult, you still love the show and watch it after a long or stressful day at work. You find yourself reciting the lines alongside the characters as you cook or clean, enjoying using the colourful show as background noise. You still can't sleep without cuddling up to Barnaby.

Something about the show, however, always gives you super vivid dreams. Any time you watch it before going to bed, you'll have a dream so vivid you're almost sure you're in the shows setting. Until you wake up, that is.

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For description-

The reader is ~5'6" with hair that goes just below their shoulders. They're flat chested but other wise no other descriptor of gender is used.

141 + König teaching Medic!Reader to spar

—————

141 + König & Reader

Short Drabble

Price decides that you need to learn how to spar. He doesn’t really explain it, but you go alone with it anyway.

It would be inaccurate to say you weren’t surprised when Price called you into the gym in the middle of the day. You were in the midst of getting as much paper work out of the way as you could before you took your lunch break when you got the call.

“Head down to the gym, need your help with something.” Was all you got from him before he hung up. You were expecting to have to supervise a particularly rough sparring session.

Once you’re in the gym, Price calls you over to stand in front of him. “I’ve never seen you in combat, so I want to know what you can do.” Lucky for you, you were already dressed in some workout appropriate clothes.

“Don’t worry. You’ll have a good teacher.” He says, gesturing to…

———Simon “Ghost” Riley———

Isn’t going to go easy on you and treats you like any other rookie in need of training

Doesn’t train like he would with Soap or Price, makes sure to treat you like you have no experience in fighting

Doesn’t spend time letting you get any “free hits” in, not a hardass but definitely not just gonna “let you win”

Believes in the “people out there won’t be nice to you, so it’s best you learn now with people who will be”

Ultimately just wants to see you learn and be safe

Ghost steps onto the mat in front of you, practically staring you down through the holes in the fabric mask he wears around base. His gaze is cold and calculated, already analysing you as you step on in front of him.

He drops into a low stance, feet spread slightly, looking relaxed. His hands come up to shield his torso and face, balled into loose fists, hovering still in the air.

You barely have the chance to try and mimic him before he’s stepping in and throwing you to the ground. It’s a clean and controlled takedown, nearly landing you on your front. You would’ve been winded were if not for Ghost’s hand balled up in the fabric of your shirt, holding you up.

The moment doesn’t last long at all, as he elects to drop you onto the ground. You manage to catch yourself on your forearms before rolling onto your back and staring up at him. He holds a hand out to you, eyes crinkling slightly with a smile.

“Get up, you’re not gonna learn anything on the floor.”

——John “Soap” MacTavish——

Mostly fun and games, even during this

He doesn’t feel the need to be absolutely serious, but will still point out areas where he feels you need to pay attention

Knows this is likely your first time ever fighting, so takes it easy - but not too easy

Kind of forgets you aren’t a solider at one point and gets a little too harsh with his hits - he feels so bad

Enjoys helping you learn

Soap is bouncing on the balls of his feet as you try and ready yourself. You haven’t the vaguest idea what you’re supposed to be doing with your hands or feet. Luckily, Soap is here to guide you!

“Hands up, protect your organs and your head - they’re important, ‘specially for someone that has to think all the time, like you,” he chuckles lightly, bringing his head up slightly, looking directly into your eyes.

His eyes sparkle with mischief as you follow his instructions. You find your body sinking slightly, easing into a lower stance that makes your thighs burn after a few minutes.

“I’m going to punch you - slowly - and I want you to try and block it.”

He does as he says and you do your pathetic and best attempt to block it. That attempt being you brining your hands up to shield your head and scrunching up your face.

“I think we’ve got a lot to learn.”

Despite his chaotic nature, he makes a surprisingly good teacher.

———Captain John Price———

Feels responsible to do this, seeing as he’s the one who called you down here

Very slow in his movements - a combination of him being a patient man and knowing you have little to no experience

Much like Soap, he tries to keep it more lighthearted so you don’t feel under pressure

Spends a lot of time correcting you, moving to grab your arms and tug them into place or kicking/tapping your ankles to get you to move your feet

Price doesn’t bother trying to fight you, instead opting to stand with his arms crossed across his chest before you. He looks at you with a look somewhere between disappointment and analysis - you can’t really tell. Something about him does, however, says ‘deep in thought’.

“Hands up, legs apart, relax your knees,” he speaks while moving to stand behind you, placing his hands in your upper arms. You quickly realise he’s doing this to support you as he gently kicks at your ankles. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s just hard enough that it causes your legs to shift and you to sink your stance.

“There. Much better,” he mutters, moving round to the front of you and taking your wrists in his hands. “A low stance means a low center of gravity. A low center of gravity if good for balance. Better balance, less likely you are to be knocked over. I’m sure you can infer why that’s a good thing.” He speaks as he moves your hands, placing your hands about half a foot in front of you.

“Keep your guard up. You got one head, if the enemy gets it, you’re gone. Don’t give them the chance.”

He stands in front of you, out of reach of any misplaced punch or pathetic kick you might try and throw.

“You learn quick enough, I’m sure this’ll go smoothly.”

———————König———————

He’s well aware of both his strength and size and is incredibly nervous to try this - especially when he thinks about the fact that you haven’t been trained to fight

König wants to do right by you, he really does, but his nerves get the best of him sometimes

He’s very hesitant to touch you, so ends up taking a very hands off approach to teach you instead, opting to stand next to you and have you copy him instead

König is fidgety as he moves to stand next to you, holding his hands up with his left hand in front. He waits, unmoving for a second, before looking down towards you.

“Could you copy me please?” He speaks, voice seeming to crawl out of his throat at the same speed that honey drips off a spoon.

You do as you’re told, trying your best to copy his stance. It takes a few minutes for you to get it right, not including you making tiny little adjustments to your position to try and be as accurate to your teacher as possible.

König can’t help but chuckle a little at your actions. He makes a small comment, asking you to raise your front fist up slightly.

“Put your non-dominant hand forwards, so when you punch, you can punch with your dominant hand.”

You do as told, holding your non-dominant hand further in front of you than your dominant one. This prompts another laugh from him.

“You need to also put the same leg forwards. Left hand forwards,” He pauses for a second, taking care to gesture to his left hand. “Left leg forwards.” He does the same thing, this time gesturing to his leg, planted sturdy in the ground, providing a solid support.

“You have to do the same,” he speaks with a hint of a smile but with nervousness dripping off of every syllable.

“Don’t worry, it gets easier with time.” He reassures you, and you’re almost certain you see his eyes crinkle in a smile.

141 + König w/ a reader who’s just had a long day

—————

141 + König & reader

Short Drabble

You’ve had a long day on base, boring and packed full of things you didn’t want to do. Now you just need to rest.

By the time you finally find yourself making dinner the sun has set, leaving the only light to be provided by the LED bulbs of the communal kitchen. It’s a miserable feeling, everything is so quiet and still. Nothing feels like it should, especially with the fact that all of the boys have retreated to their rooms, leaving you alone to sort yourself out.

You give up on whatever pathetic attempt at “dinner” you’re trying, opting instead to slouch back into a chair slightly pulled out from the table. Despite the fact that sleep is tugging desperately on your weary mind, you can’t find the energy to stand up and go to bed.

What does get you moving, however, is the idea of being able to see your favourite person on base. The thought alone gets you to your feet, trudging slowly towards his room, avoiding the temptation to just lay down on the carpet of the hallway and fall asleep.

———-Captain John Price-———

You don’t bother knocking on his door, instead just twisting the handle and pushing the door open

He’s sat up in bed, book in hand and glasses resting on his nose, bathed in the warm light of his bedside lamp

Price doesn’t bother to look up, only murmuring: “Close the door behind you”

You pad into the room, sliding the door shut behind you and letting it click shut. He doesn’t look up at you at all, eyes fixated on the book he’s holding up. You can’t help but watch him read, seeing his eyes flirt surprisingly fast across the page as you round the other side of the bed.

Soft, warm cotton greets your skin as you pull the sheets back. The mattress sinks under you as you gently climb into bed, still wearing your daytime clothes. This seems to get Price to react, as he turns his head to look at you over the top of his glasses.

“Take off the jeans, you’re not wearing those to bed.”

It’s a simple request, but still hard to do with your complete lack of energy. You do manage to strip the jeans off, electing to kick your socks off along with them. After a few seconds of deliberation, you slip off any other even mildly uncomfortable clothing garment and then climb back into his bed.

He doesn’t stop you this time, instead lifting up the arm closest to you. It’s in invitation, one you gladly take, to slide in and lay your head gently on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, feel him breath, and it’s practically already lulling you to sleep.

“Long day?” He mumbles, turning the page of his book.

You don’t bother answering properly, letting out a small sound and nodding your head instead.

“We best sleep then.” This time he closes his book as he speaks, placing it on the night stand along with his glasses. He shuffles down the mattress, letting you get comfy with your head on his chest before turning the light off.

———Simon “Ghost” Riley———

You don’t even get the chance to knock on the door before he’s opening it, dressed in plaid pyjama pants and a slightly baggy grey shirt

He still has a balaclava on, one with a big hole over his eyes, allowing you to see the concerned look he’s giving your puffy, tired, red eyes

He ushers you into his room, giving you the command to “get into something comfortable” before slipping out of the room and walking off

Simon comes back not too long after he left, having given you a chance to get changed into a pair of his pyjama shorts and a hoodie. It’s warm and smells both of him and of laundry detergent.

When he comes back, he has a plate in one hand a a plastic water bottle tucked under his arm. Half of an apple - cut into slices - and a piece of buttered toast are on the plate.

“You need to eat,” he grumbles, pushing the door shut and twisting the knob as it slips into place.

He guides you to sit on his bed, holding the plate in front of you, prompting you to take it. Once you do, he does the same with the bottle - after cracking the seal for you.

You take a bite of the toast, realising he’s put honey on it. Not too much, but just enough for it to taste sweet.

Ghost sits next to you as you eat, hand on your knee, thumb swiping back and forth across your skin. It’s an action that has you leaning into him by the time you’ve finished eating. He takes the plate from you, prompting you to have a drink before placing the bottle on the floor next to the plate.

“You look like you need sleep,” he whispers, guiding you to lay in his bed, facing the wall.

It’s not long before he’s slipping in behind you, having put on some rain noises to play in the background. Wrapping his arm around your waist, Ghost pulls your back to his chest a bf tucks your head under his chin.

——-John “Soap” MacTavish-——

You have to knock a few times before he answers, having been dead asleep

Both his eyes and his posture are droopy, showing you just how hard he’s finding it to drag himself out of bed for you

It doesn’t stop him from smiling when he sees you though, or from pulling you into his room and kicking the door shut as gently as he can

Soap doesn’t say much if anything as he drags you over to his bed in the near total darkness of his room. He guides you to the bed, helping you shuffle into it just before he does.

You don’t mind the lack of words or light, actually finding it quite nice on your tired senses. It gives you a break after the day you’ve had.

Soap pulls you against his chest, practically laying you on top of him as he wraps his arms around you. It’s still for a moment emigre he pulls you up slightly, just enough to start placing kisses against the top of your head.

He keeps doing this, placing soft, rhythmic kisses into your hair. One hand comes to rest on the small of your back while the other moves up to mess with your hair. Specifically, the fuzz at the nape of your neck. He teases it slightly, tugging as gently as possible, rubbing it between his fingers.

You take a moment to intertwine your legs with his. He moves with you, only moving so as to prevent you from having to move him.

You stay like that for a long time, wrapped up in his arms, listening to his heartbeat and his breathing. It’s safe and warm, and you feel tired.

———————König———————

He opens the door after exactly one knock, almost like he’s waiting for you, to scared to tell you he knows you’re there before you tell him

He reaches out, scooping you up almost immediately and pushing the door shut, holding you against his big, warm body

No time is wanted before he’s speaking loving words into your ear, proving himself up against the headboard and wrapping a blanket around you

König holds you close as soon as he’s able to get his hands on you, bringing you up to wrap your legs round his waist. It’s slightly I comfortable with how big he is, but his warm hands on your thighs more than make up for it.

He slips into his bed, back pressed against the back board, pulling a pillow up behind him to his spine isn’t pressing directly into the wood.

“Oh Mein kleiner schatz, you look exhausted,” he mumbles, petting your hair and back as he wraps a blanket around you.

You can’t help but nozzle into his chest slightly, relishing in his warm hand messing with your hair. His other hand is drawing patterns into your skin over the denim of your jeans.

“How about we take these off and get you comfortable?” He whispers into your ear, hugging you close for a second before helping you stand up. He’s insistent in helping you change, only turning his back when you strip off your undergarments in a favour of one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers.

As soon as you’re more comfortable, he’s pulling you back into the bed - back into his lap - to swaddle you in a blanket again. He’s pressing you against his chest as soon as possible, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

“It’s ok, mein maus, you Can sleep now.” Is the last thing you hear before you fully relax into your giants chest.

Commission Info

Pricing:

SFW: £1 per 100 words, 500 word minimum

NSFW (i.e. Smut): £1.50 per 100 words, 500 word minimum

NSFW (i.e. gore): £2 per 100 words, 500 word minimum

Boundaries

Contact me and we can discuss what I’m willing to write!

What I’ll do

OC x OC

How to commission me

DM me with

Characters - short physical and behavioural description

Genre

Prompt/Plot

Any other specifics you want included

Word count

I will expect half payment up front, as I’ve had bad experiences with commissions before that involved not getting paid for my work

NOTICE

Becuase of copy-write laws, I won’t write “fanfic” unless it’s of your own OCs