why haven’t we considered a florist au where the florist is könig??
imagine this beefy tall old man, retired from his life in his private military company after a pretty bad knee accident, muscles still very evident through the cozy shirt he wears who just- handles pretty dainty flowers as a job
more of a hobby honestly, he made so much money from his career that he doesn’t really need to work more, but he likes being on his feet and using his hands and he can finally give attention to his… softer side
the one his father told him to suppress, the side that was called ‘unnatural’, the side that he had to shut in a box and hid under years of trauma and military experience
ough reader needing to buy flowers for whatever reason, entering the shop blissfully unaware of the gigantic hunk of a man standing hidden behind a few plants in the back
and when you call out a soft “hello?” you’re met with this 6’10 beef cake that honestly kind of makes you shit yourself but also turns you on in an unexpected way
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141recon spring fling-o writing challenge
prompt: early birds
tags: fluff, 0.7k words
Your boyfriends keep odd hours.
It must be all the deployments; traveling to the ends of the earth for weeks on end, staying awake for long hours doing God knows what. The first few days they’re home, they’re out of bed before you wake, already asleep by the time you’re done with work.
If their leave lasts long enough, a pattern works itself out, but never truly aligns with yours.
“Wuzz goin’ on?”
“Nothin’, pet.” A broad hand pats your head. Simon. “Just gettin’ up fer tea. Go back to sleep.”
You struggle up in bed, squinting at the clock on the nightstand.
4:34 AM.
Johnny’s side of the bed is already empty. You swing your legs out from under the covers and down to the floor.
“I like tea.”
“Oh, yeah?” Simon shrugs on his robe and then unhooks yours from the back of the door. “C’mon, then.”
You scramble out of bed to where he waits, grateful that he doesn’t try to talk you out of it. Johnny’s the worrier of the two—he’d sweet talk you into laying back down and lull you to sleep with a hand stroking your hair.
Simon tucks you into your robe and then leads the way down the hall and into the kitchen. Johnny’s already got two mugs on the counter, and his eyebrows go up when he spies you in Simon’s shadow.
“What’s this? The bonnie sleeping beauty, awake to mingle with the early birds!”
He fishes a third mug from the cupboard while you grumble and rub the sleep from your eyes.
“Sleeping beauty? It’s four o’clock in the morning!”
“Aye.” He puts the kettle on while Simon pulls the teabags from the drawer. “Ye should be in bed.”
You lift your chin. “I wanted to get up with you.”
Johnny smiles and chucks you under the chin affectionately.
He moves in tandem with Simon, their steps as practiced as if they’ve done this a hundred times. It makes you feel like an intruder on a private ritual, standing out of the way and in the corner, wrapping your robe tighter around yourself.
But then Johnny hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you with him into the sitting room.
He sits heavily on the couch and arranges you beside him so that your feet are in his lap. You’re still a little sulky, but he brushes a finger along the bottom of your bare foot to make you laugh.
In the kitchen, the kettle whistles. While Johnny runs his hands up and down your calves, you listen to Simon bustling around. When he comes out, he’s got three steaming mugs balanced carefully in his hands. Johnny takes two, handing one to you as Simon sinks down on your other side.
You end up leaned against his chest, your feet resting on Johnny’s thighs. Simon drapes a bulky arm over your shoulders, holding you close.
While you sip at your tea, he and Johnny talk shop in quiet whispers over your head. You don’t understand most of it, but you’re just pleased to be involved, to be able to spend time with them with all three of you awake. All the while, Simon traces figure eights into your shoulder with his fingers. Johnny lightly massages your ankles.
The clock on the wall ticks slowly. Words blend into meaningless sounds, each sentence fainter than the last in your ears. When your mug starts to tip out of your hand, someone deftly plucks it away before it can spill.
Johnny’s chuckle is distant. “Told ye to go back to bed.”
Your head nods. “‘M not tired.”
Simon snorts. “Right. And I’m the Prince o’ Wales.”
“No.” His amused expression swims into view as you squint up at him. “You’re much prettier.”
On the other side of the couch, Johnny laughs and squeezes your foot. “He’s very pretty, our Simon.”
Simon’s hand gradually drifts higher, running over your hair in long, soothing strokes. Johnny pulls the blanket down from the back of the couch, tucking it around you before sitting back in his spot.
They keep talking softly all the while, fitting the conversation around you. Simon’s arm rises and falls as he drinks his tea, the rhythm tempting you further down. Your eyes are too heavy to open, now. Your head slides from its spot on Simon’s shoulder, and he catches you to ease you down onto his lap.
“See you in the mornin’, dove,” one of them whispers.
It is morning, you want to reply, but you fall asleep somewhere between thought and words.
141 is hosting another event! This time, it’s bingo style! See how much you can write within the time frame— get a bingo line or go the extra mile and blackout the card! The choice is yours!
As usual, anyone is allowed to join whether they’re in the server or not! You can write for any fandom and/or join the server if you enjoy COD or not!
Please post with the tags #141RECON and #141Springflingo2026 so we can enjoy your entries for the event!
thinking about omega ghost who’s married to alpha reader and he gets pregnant, and reader decides that ghost cannot be in the military anymore
the two of you talk it out, discuss about your next steps together and come to a consensual decision that you both will leave the military
together you pick a cozy city, small and cute and just quiet enough that the two of you won’t be bothered too much by other people
you’re just stepping away from your car, a big box of belongings in your hands as you turn your face and are met with the most breathtaking sight of your life
simon, your beautiful omega, with his hands holding the curve of his bloated tummy, eyes wide and lips parted as he takes in your new home, imagining your kids running around in the garden and laughing
ghost as this fucking weird dude that just wakes up at 4:30 every day, even when he can sleep in and take his time, wandering the halls of base in his dark clothes and mask, creepily silent as he steps around and finds his way to the kitchen and prepares himself a cuppa
vs
reader who sleeps late, you forgot to go back to bed and fell asleep in the kitchen on a table, you wake up to noises behind you and you turn around to try and see what’s happening in the pitch dark room, only to see a fucking flying skull that turns to look at you and makes you let out the most shrill and loud scream of your whole life
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It’s gotten finally sunny and warm enough that don’t have to wear layers and layers of clothes to feel warm, and the best part of this weather? The only part you actually enjoy?
Seeing your husband in a short sleeved shirt, all the beautiful muscle and soft fat on his chest and arms out in the open for your eyes to feast on.
And what else can you do besides organizing a picnic? You tell your husband Johnny to keep his whole day free so you can enjoy your time together.
The two of you end up in a lovely garden full of flowers, beautiful colors and sun hitting you just right so it’s perfectly warm.
You get some sunscreen and giggle as you cover each other in the cream, sharing soft kisses every now and then. Johnny gets a bit of cream on his lips from how enthusiastic he was about kissing you and gags in a way that is clearly exaggerated just to make you laugh.
The two of you end up feeding each other, small bite sized pieces of food that get shared, fruit, salty snacks, a few pieces of cheese and meat. And if some chocolate sauce lands on his cheek and you lick it off, making you two laugh? That’s between him, you and your tongue.
While you clean up a few of the plates you used, Johnny steps away to gather flowers, his back turned towards you so you only see his shoulders moving, only his giggles reaching your ears as he works on whatever it is he’s doing.
When you call him curiously after ten minutes of his… busy working, he turns his face to the side with a grin, tells you to close your eyes and you listen, a little smile and a huff falling from your lips.
He steps closer and puts something around the crown of your head, and when he tells you you can open your eyes you’re met with the sight of his face really close to yours, bright blue eyes twinkling.
Then your eyes move up and you see a beautiful flower crown on his head. You grin, complimenting him on his work, and he tells you to keep smiling because he wants to take a selfie.
When he brings out his phone to take the picture, you look at the crown placed over your head too, and laugh at how sweet your husband is.
Just before he snaps the picture you turn your face and kiss his cheek, enjoying the fact that the pic ends up being of his wide eyed startled face as you land your kiss.
You’ve had a rough week and everything seems to be going wrong. Between having to balance work, relationships and personal life you’re exhausted.
Your boyfriend Kyle notices.
Which is why he decides to take you out on a sweet date, organizes everything down to a T, every little thing you prefer and like.
Your favorite restaurant, your favorite meal, your favorite clothes were laid out on your bed when you got back home. Even your favorite perfume and shirt that you like seeing Kyle wear.
You’re stunned, kind of a little surprised that your boyfriend would remember all these ‘silly’ facts about you.
The evening started out so sweet and you didn’t know how to react, and then, your sweet Kyle decided to give you heartache by getting your favorite flowers ever.
The kind that you can’t find easily, the kind that’ costs so fucking much, the kind that makes you swoon and tear up and hug him so tight to your chest that he wheezes.
You kiss him, of course, that’s what he deserves. And then you whisper your declaration of love against his lips. And the kiss you share is so heartwarming that your tears spill over your cheeks.
141recon spring fling-o writing challenge
prompt: rainy days
tags: intimacy/fluff, nsfw 18+
It’s a blustery spring day.
In the morning, gray clouds, fat with rain, drift across the wide open skies. By early afternoon, they open up, dumping sheets of cold sleet over the country. The less-traveled roads turn to mud, water running off from gardens to pool in the streets.
The rain drums low on your roof. The wind creaks around the house and across the windows, which are all pulled shut against the storm.
Inside, there’s a stack of dishes in the sink. Kettle still on the stove. An array of clothing scattered in a trail that leads to the bedroom—a sock here, a shirt there. An old English Setter curls in front of the closed door, sighing over being locked out, occasionally pricking its ears at a sound from within.
John moves slow inside you, a deliberate, easy pace that has you arching to meet him. He leans in; your mouths meet in a lazy kiss that dissolves almost as quickly as it begins, turning into just your mouths touching, then not at all as his lips move higher over your cheek and then your temple.
“John,” you murmur, nails tightening in his back as he shifts, sliding a little deeper, hitting the spot that makes you see double. “John, John, John.”
“Mmm.” His tone’s a little smug, a little patronizing, but sweat drips from his brow, and his arms shake where they’re braced beside you. “I know, baby.”
He reaches between you where your bodies are joined. A shock of pleasure has your legs clamping harder around his waist. Your cries are muffled into his shoulder, but he feels the scratch of your nails plainly enough—he hisses, an answering growl rising in his chest. His thrusts come faster, a little more desperate, and as you squeeze out a climax around him, he snarls and goes still.
After a few moments, John eases himself out of you, cooing and stroking your brow when you gasp. “There we are, love.” The mattress creaks where he collapses, groaning, into the pillows. Boneless and blissed-out as you are, you can’t resist a teasing laugh.
“Worn out?”
He chuckles, and you roll over just enough to tuck yourself into his side. “Pacin’ myself.”
The rumble of his voice is magnified where your head rests on his chest. Your eyes grow heavy, the rest of you limp and content. His fingers draw nonsense patterns over the skin of your hip as you both listen to the rain lashing the windows.
“How long’ll the storm be?”
“Hmm.” Your eyes slide shut. “Rest of the afternoon.”
John says something else, but you’re already half asleep. The last thing you remember is the drag of the blanket as he sweeps it over you, his other arm a comforting warmth around you waist.
