#König cod

[girl-lostconnection]

This might just be funny to me

But it'd be really funny if fox!reader was friend with like. Bear!König

They've been running with a purpose this entire time and it was to get to their huge "fuck you" sized friend

Soap: Heh, gotcha now

Y/N: Did you though?

König: 🐻

ANON THIS IS SO COOL. Yk what? Hell yeah, let’s fucking go.

I’ll do you even better one — moose König. Incredibly fast, runs as a fucking devil, looks like a fucking devil, CAN SWIM for some godforsaken reason and as a whole is a nightmare fuel and a menace.

But fox!Reader was really nice to him and they keep him updated on where there are things to eat (since they have different diets and it doesn’t mean that they or their family will have less).

So when König hears the commotion and can smell familiar fox who he walks out to greet…and there they are, SPRINTING to him for their life with a huge hound on their heels.

Moose!König who doesn’t take lightly to some fuckass Hund chasing his little friend.

Meanwhile Soap is like “yes-yes-yes, almost there, hen, come on, I won’t bite” and then he sees König and is like “oh fuck”

[motomamita]

Can you do Pervert!Konig and Pornstar!Reader?

pervert!könig × pornstar!reader

warnings: +18, smut, fleshlight!

you had many fans, but none like pervert!könig.

you had only been in the industry for a short time but you had grown like crazy. all your videos accumulated millions of views and soon you attracted the attention of many perverted failures, like könig.

the moment that könig most anticipated was the night, when he could lock himself in his room, undress and masturbate to your videos until he fainted. he imagined that you were the one touching him, stroking his hard cock while you talked sweetly to him about how big he was.

soon könig bought a fleshlight and his level of perversion increased. now he filmed himself fucking the fleshlight and uploaded the videos to twitter, tagging you so you could see it.

and that happened. more than a dozen videos of him fucking his toy while one of your videos was playing in the background. könig moaned your name, begging you to let him cum inside you. his attacks were so abrupt that on one occasion he even broke the fleshlight, later having to ask for donations from his community to buy a new one.

you gave him a few likes and retweets, thanking him for his support of your content. seeing the notifications, könig almost came in his pants. the mere idea that you've seen his content drove him crazy, he needs to keep your attention on him.

so when you announced that to celebrate your years in the industry you would hold a contest for one of your fans to spend a night with you, könig jumped at the chance. until that moment he managed to gain many followers who were now begging you to collaborate with him. they wanted to see könig fucking you like he did with his fleshlight.

luckily for him, könig ended up being the winner of the contest. now he was on his way to the airport, with a throbbing erection and ready to fuck you in front of the cameras.

part 2?

[themidnightmoth]

@anghimalaaynasapuso this is incredible give me another one right now

DISCORD BOYFRIEND KÖNIG

sfw + nsfw. this is just an amalgamation of all my ideas

könig has never been one for putting his face on social media. even before the scars that pull at the skin of his cheek, reshaping his expression in ways he’s never fully grown used to, the idea of being seen, really seen, has never sat right with him. there’s a certain comfort in anonymity, in keeping the world at arm’s length. easier that way. safer.

that unease, paired with what some might consider his more nerdy interests, means he gravitates toward spaces like discord rather than the highly curated feeds of instagram or facebook. there, he doesn’t have to worry about photos or videos— just a username, and a presence in text.

his handle is simple: king 👑. a nod to the name he’s carried for so long, stripped of rank, stripped of weight.

even in the server where he’s most active, he keeps things vague, blending into discussions about games, military history, or whatever niche interest has caught his attention that week.

every now and then, he’ll let something slip— a mention of deployment, an offhand comment, disappearing for months at a time, only to return with a sudden burst of activity. some put the pieces together. most don’t. and könig prefers it that way. it’s easier to let them think he’s just another guy with spotty internet.

your first interaction is rather simple in retrospect.

he’s back after weeks of recon, shaking off the mission like dirt from his boots, easing into the familiarity of a gaming server he’s called home for years.

it’s not a small server, so new people come and go. he does his usual routine— an automated, slightly impersonal welcome but what he doesn’t expect is the sheer enthusiasm in return.

“hi!!!!”

he stares at the message for a second, counting the exclamation marks. three. four. five? a small smile tugs at his lips before he even realizes it.

it doesn’t take long before you’re at his metaphorical side, sending a friend request before the conversation even shifts from your college courses.

the older members tease him. something about his last deployment scrambling his head enough to take a newbie under his wing. he lets them talk. he doesn’t mind.

soon enough, you’re in his private messages, dramatically lamenting your latest loss in a game he’s only vaguely familiar with. könig listens— well, reads— as you rant, words spilling out at a rapid-fire pace, interspersed with keyboard smashing and increasingly incoherent frustration.

he’s not much for new releases, preferring to sink his teeth into a single game for months on end, grinding away until mastery is muscle memory. still-

one evening, without preamble, he sends you a link. his profile. in your game.

the response is immediate. ‘king!!! 🥺’ you type, followed by an onslaught of keyboard mashing that takes up half his screen.

he exhales a short laugh, shaking his head. he wonders if you know how easy it is to make him grin like an idiot.

the calls are… an unexpected development.

könig doesn’t make a habit to join server calls. ever. it’s not even about anxiety, not really, just preference. too many voices, too much noise. he never expected to be comfortable enough with anyone to want to be in a call, let alone initiate one.

but when you start gaming together, it becomes a necessity. typing mid-match isn’t exactly efficient, and you’re the first to point that out.

“okay, listen, king, i am not about to lose another ranked match just because you take five years to type ‘behind you.’” he huffs, amused, but relents.

soon enough, calls become second nature— no longer tied to gaming, no longer requiring an excuse. you always ask first, polite thing that you are, and könig always agrees. sometimes it’s an unspoken invitation, a simple “call?” sent in the quiet hours of the night. sometimes he beats you to it, pressing the button before he can think too hard about it.

one time, it’s you who calls. he answers on the first ring.

“are you- wait.” you pause, listening. there’s a distinct, rhythmic thud-thud-thud in the background. not footsteps, but something heavier, more controlled. “are you on a treadmill?”

“mm.” his voice is steady, unaffected. a quiet confirmation.

you gasp, and he can practically hear the amusement brewing in your tone. “oh my god! you actually work out? i thought you were lying.”

he snorts, breath hitching slightly as he adjusts his pace. “why would i lie about that?”

“i don’t know! you just- i mean, you sit at your desk all day, playing the same game for hours, and you’re always online at weird times-”

“you are describing yourself,” he points out.

“shut up.”

there’s a pause, and then, with the kind of mischief that only comes from knowing exactly how to push his buttons, you add, “prove it.”

he slows to a walk, swiping open his phone. a moment later, you receive a picture. him, flexing. the lighting is dim, but you can still make out the cut of his forearm, the solid shape of his bicep. just to humor you, he throws up a peace sign.

“not stolen from pinterest.”

you burst into laughter so sudden and bright that he finds himself smiling before he can stop it.

you learn what it means to miss könig pretty early on.

it happens suddenly. one day, he’s there, active as usual, sending the occasional meme, idling in voice chat even if he’s not talking. the next? radio silence. not even a ‘typing…’ indicator.

at first, you don’t think much of it. maybe he’s sleeping in. maybe he’s busy. time zones are weird. it’s fine.

but then a whole day passes. then another. you check his status— nothing. not offline, not do not disturb, just… gone.

curiosity turns into concern, and before you can think better of it, you ask in the server.

“hey, anyone heard from king?”

the response is casual. unbothered. “oh, dude’s probably deployed again.”

you blink. reread the message. “deployed?”

“yeah, king’s military.”

there’s no warning for the way that statement knocks the air from your lungs.

military? as in, real-life combat? as in, war zones and danger and actual life-or-death situations?

you stare at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure what to even say to that.

he doesn’t resurface for weeks.

you don’t realize how much you’ve come to rely on his presence until it’s gone. his absence is loud in the quiet moments of your day, in the spaces where a message from him would normally be.

you check the server out of habit, catching yourself before you can search his username. it’s stupid, you think. you barely know him. he’s just some guy from a discord server.

but the worry lingers.

and then, one day, just like that— he’s back.

his return is as unceremonious as his disappearance.

no dramatic entrance, no fanfare. just a simple “hello.”

you see it the moment he sends it. your stomach flips.

before you can stop yourself, you send a private message. “you’re alive.”

a moment passes. then— “yes.”

you frown. “you were gone for weeks.”

“i know.”

frustration bubbles up. “you could’ve said something.”

“i couldn’t.”

you hesitate, fingers tightening around your phone. you don’t know what you were expecting. an explanation? reassurance? but it’s clear you’re not getting one.

but then, a follow-up message. one that feels heavier, more careful. “i’m sorry.”

and just like that, the irritation dissolves.

it’s strange, the way things slip back into place after that.

he doesn’t talk about it, and you don’t ask. but something shifts. after that deployment, könig starts telling you when he’ll be gone. nothing in detail, really. just a simple, “i’ll be away for a bit.”

(it means everything.)

slowly, you get used to it. the rhythm of his presence and absence, the way your conversations pick up right where they left off, as if no time has passed at all.

it goes on for months. this… thing between the two of you. könig doesn’t hesitate to call it friendship, though he knows, knows, it’s something else entirely.

something with edges softer than companionship, something that lingers in the pauses between conversation, in the way you had whispered his real name under your breath when he revealed it to you.

he doesn’t rush to name it. doesn’t push. he lets it simmer until it feels inevitable.

in the end, it’s you who breaks first. technically. not that he’s keeping score. not that he would ever rub it in your face, especially when he was a mere day away from asking the very same thing.

it starts with a message. no preamble, no buildup. just a simple: hey, what are we?

könig sees it and reacts before thinking. presses the call button so fast his thumb practically smashes the screen. it rings once, twice—

“you didn’t even ask.” your voice comes through, half exasperated, half amused.

“didn’t want to give you time to unsend.” his own voice is steady, but his heart is anything but.

you huff. “bold assumption.”

“not really.”

a pause. he hears you shift, fabric rustling, the sound of you settling in. something warm and slow uncoils in his chest at the familiarity of it.

“so,” you start, hesitant. “what’s your answer?”

könig exhales, tipping his head back against his pillow. “do you want the truth?”

“obviously.”

he hums, considering. in reality, he’s known the truth for a while now. probably before you even realized it yourself.

“i like you,” he says, simple, sure. then, because he knows you, because he knows your deflections, your habit of teasing when you get nervous, he adds, “and i’m very aware you like me back.”

you sputter. “that’s a bold assumption-”

“not really,” he repeats, smug this time.

you groan, but you’re laughing, and it sends something bright flickering through him.

könig doesn’t ask for nudes. not once. he flirts, he teases, but never pushes. he knows your boundaries, respects them, never even hints at wanting more. if anything, he’s careful. too careful, sometimes. like he’s afraid of crossing a line you haven’t even drawn.

so when you finally send something, it’s your choice.

the first picture is tame. barely anything. it's a shot of your thighs, soft and warm in the low light of your room. nothing scandalous. nothing too revealing. but the second you hit send, your stomach twists with nerves.

könig sees it immediately. you watch the typing bubble appear, disappear, then appear again. and then— “fuck.”

you grin. “good?”

“you have no idea.”

it only escalates from there.

könig never requests more. but when you send it, when you want to send it, his reaction is worth it. he worships you through the screen, tells you how beautiful you are, how much he wishes he could touch you.

“pretty,” he texts once, attached to a voice message.

you press play. his breath is ragged, like he’s just run a mile. “pretty thing,” he repeats, voice tinged with something almost reverent. “you’re going to ruin me, love.”

the first time he sends you something, it takes him forever to work up to it.

you don’t ask for it. wouldn’t dream of pushing him into something he’s not comfortable with. könig isn’t shy, necessarily, but he’s private. you know that by now.

so when, out of nowhere, a picture pops up on your screen, your brain short-circuits.

it’s cropped carefully, but there’s no mistaking what you’re looking at— bare skin, broad shoulders, his stomach flexed just slightly.

“you like?” he texts after a minute.

you swallow hard. “yes.”

“good.” and then— “more?”

you bite your lip. “please.”

könig gets bolder after that.

he sends more. never too much, always teasing, always just enough to leave you wanting. sometimes it’s his hands, sometimes it’s his abs, the sharp cut of his hip bones, the waistband of his sweatpants hanging just low enough to make your mouth water.

one night, he sends a voice message instead. you press play.

at first, all you hear is his breathing. then, slowly, softly— your name, whispered through a noise that makes heat bloom low in your stomach.

“wish you were here,” he murmurs. “wish you could see what you do to me.”

the actual nudes don’t take long. not ar all. you’re both desperate. buzzing. könig’s the one who caves first.

it starts with your text. 10 p.m., the hour where inhibitions slip through grasping fingers like sand.

“wanna see your cock so bad, könig…” you murmur to your propped phone, cheek pressed to your pillow, another one stuffed against your chest like it might replace the hollow ache between your ribs. a distraction. a poor substitute.

on the other side of the screen, he exhales, dragging a hand down his face. fingers tensing, then flexing, like he needs something to hold onto. “love-” your whine cuts through before he can even think. instinctive. needy. his stomach clenches. “okay, okay. as long as you're sure.”

his heart pounds as he opens his photos. he doesn’t exactly collect dick pics, but there are a few kept locked away, private albums, a passcode he suddenly fumbles to enter.

three minutes. that’s how long it takes to choose the best one. the right angle. the right lighting. enough to make your breath hitch when you see it.

he hits send before he can overthink it, then leans back, phone balanced on his thigh, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

your phone buzzes. the photo pops up. you blink, breath hitching sharp in your throat.

“oh my god.” the words spill out of you before you can even think to stop them. “könig…” you stare at the screen, gaze locked on the thick, heavy length of him. the way it curves slightly, resting against his thigh like it’s weighed down by its own sheer mass. your breath stutters.

“you're so fucking big.” it barely registers that you've said it aloud.

“yeah? you like it?

“like it?” you shoot back. “i want it inside me.”

his breath leaves him in one harsh exhale. he shifts, hips rolling involuntarily like he can feel your words on his skin.

“can i see you too?” he sounds so polite. and then, as if that wasn’t enough to twist the knife deeper— “please?”

your stomach flips. you bite your lip, already reaching for your phone camera, the need to show him everything burning through you like wildfire.

your breath comes shallow as you slip your hand lower, phone steady in the other. the need is a pulse under your skin, throbbing, insistent. you pull the covers back just enough, the cool air prickling against the heat between your thighs.

the camera catches everything. your slightly parted thighs, your swollen clit, the wetness gushing out of your hole. it feels like baring a secret you’ve never told anyone. you hesitate for half a second, heart racing, then hit send.

the second the message disappears from your screen, it hits you— you just sent that to him.

on his end, könig freezes. the photo loads slow, torturous, and when it finally pops up, he feels his whole body tense, blood rushing south so fast it’s dizzying. “f-fuck, i need to be inside of you-”

sex with könig, if you can even call it that, at first, sneaks up on you. you never thought you’d be the kind of person who got into this. sending texts that made your face burn, leaving voice messages you could barely listen back to without cringing. but with him, it’s different. easier. less embarrassing because it’s him.

still, going from nudes to actual phone sex takes some time.

“gonna sleep,” könig texts you once, attached to a blurry photo of his bed.

“alone?” you send back, teasing.

the typing bubble appears. then disappears. then— “obviously.”

you grin at your phone, satisfied. but then— “but i could use some company.”

you stare at the message longer than you’d like to admit.

didn't tell him that you had woken up panting, arousal between your thighs, könig’s name on your lips too many times. didn't tell him that you had pressed your hand against your clit during your calls, to the sound of his voice, to his laugh, to the quiet, wrecked groans he sometimes lets out when he stretches after a workout.

in the past, you hadn't told him how many times you’d dreamt of him because you thought you'd scare him off, kept your mouth shut about the images that haunted you at night, of his hands pinning you down, his mouth at your throat.

but you wanted to.

and tonight, you would.

the conversation turns slow. lazy. heavy with something unspoken.

“you sound tired,” könig murmurs, voice warm. he’s always like this late at night. soft, unhurried, like he’s sinking into the sound of you.

you swallow hard. your skin feels too hot, too tight. “i’m not.”

a pause. then, lower— “what is it, love?”

you hesitate, pressing your lips together. it’s too much. too embarrassing. but he knows something is different.

“talk to me. tell me what you’re thinking.”

you let out a shaky breath. “i had a dream about you.”

the silence stretches.

you can hear him inhale. you bite your lip. force yourself to continue. “i think about you. when i-” you stop. you can’t say it. can’t admit it.

könig exhales through his nose, like he’s trying to steady himself. “when you what?”

your stomach is a knot of nerves. but you want this. want him. so you take a breath, close your eyes. “when i touch myself.”

his breath stutters.

“fuck.” the word is almost a groan. your pulse hammers, blood rushing through your ear as heat pools in your stomach.

“könig,” you whisper.

he exhales, whispers his next words like a beg, “say it again.”

you swallow. “i touch myself to you.”

“i do too.”

your stomach flips. “what?”

“i-” he cuts himself off with a quiet curse, like he's frustrated with himself for hesitating. “i touch myself to you too.”

your breath catches. heat blooms in your chest, spreading down your spine. “könig-”

“all the time.” his voice is lower now, raw, like he's aching with it. “when i can't sleep. when you're on call with me, laughing, teasing me. when i wake up hard in the middle of the night and can’t stop thinking about stuffing you full.”

your body is burning again, despite the aftershocks still rolling through you. you're about to choke out a reply when you hear it— the rustle of fabric, the faint creak of bedsprings, the wet slide of skin on skin.

“are you-”

a sharp inhale. “yes.”

“let me hear you,” you whisper, thinking about his pretty, pretty cock. uncut, soft skin stretched over the flushed head, the way it would slide back when he’s fully hard, revealing the deep pink of his leaking tip. the veins that wind down the length, standing out against the pale skin

there's a pause, a hitch in his breath. then, slowly— “okay.”

there's a small rustle, könig adjusting himself on the bed. the faint sound of him pumping lotion on his hand. a quiet sigh. and then, a low grunt as the warmth of his palm wraps around his cock.

könig looks down at his hand, eyes half-lidded, hips bucking up in small thrusts. he imagines your pussy instead of his fist, hot and tight and so fucking warm, fluttering around his length as he pushes in, spearing you open with a cock too big for your little cunny.

he knows you’d cry for him, little gasps and hiccupped moans, squirming beneath him as he bullies his cock deeper, past that tight ring of muscle into the slick, warm clutch of your cunt.

“a-ah- fuck, ah-”

your breath stutters at the sounds, hips grinding against your palm. “wish i could see you.”

“on cam?”

you groan, squeezing your thighs around the pillow in-between your legs, grinding your clit against the material softly. “yes, please..”

fuck, you're so polite.

[princesssparklecupcake]

why the fuck does soap walk like a caveman..

[machveil]

oh?🐙✨daily König sketch, spider meets octopus

[machveil]

me when I see the König portion

p!link collection 4 👻🚬🧢🧼🪦🗡🐺🦿🇷🇺🦌🤠 (🌽 links)

ghost 👻

ghost always meet bratty manners with some form of punishment, like slapping your ass raw

sucking ghost's soul out as he tries not to buck his hips up and push his thick cock deeper into your mouth

ghost may miss you, but his cock misses you even more. proof of it is how hard he is and how much he cums

ghost pinning you to the bed in prone bone with his whole body, deep inside of you and balls slappign your clit with each thrust

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

price 🚬

freshly shaved pussy? don't worry, price will make sure his pretty cunt stays warm by stuffing it with his fingers

price might me the real much in 141, always between your legs, getting himself a taste

price sending you little videos so you can appreciate his thick uncut cock and fuzzy stomach and pecs

price stretching your pussy out, fisting you until you squirt all over his hairy belly

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

gaz 🧢

coming back horny from deployment, gaz doesn't even make it home, making a mess of himself in the parking lot

gaz loves eating pussy from the back, specially because it gives him full access to your ass

gaz throat training you so you are able to take him full into your mouth and slobber all over his balls

brother's best friend gaz using the chance that he went out to fuck you nicely

gaz loves backshots, nothing compares to the view of your plush ass and the recoil with each thrust

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

soap 🧼

soap is definitely the type to pull you into the closest barthroom and try to get you pregnant at the thought of wife-ing you up

sunset watching date with soap ends with you getting fucked on the hood of the car

soap getting himself a front row seat to your face twisting with pleasure as he fingers you mercilessly

you can't go around the house in pretty sundresses, beacuse soap won't hessitate to spread your legs and eat you out like a savage man

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

graves 🪦

graves' possessive ass won't do threesomes, but he will have a fucking machine plunging into your pussy as he takes your ass

horny graves doesn't even make it to the bedroom most of the time, so he just takes you in the sofa

as much as graves lokes fucking your pussy, he loves cumming in yout pussy, watching his cum drip onto your fluttering empty cunt

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

konig 🗡

having konig take viagra and getting to play with his incessantly hard cock until he's shooting blanks

konig fucking your soft thighs and humping his leaking tip against your plump lower lips

konig is definitely the type to ask you to cosplay his favourite characters just to fuck you

so pent up and with his balls so full, konig has to show you how much the videos you send him make him cum

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

makarov 🐺

makarov is the type to finger you while he drives, sliding your panties to the side and pushing his digits knuckle deep in your soaking pussy

makarov does really try to not cum inside of you when he's fucking you without a condom on, but he can't resist you when you tell him to

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

alejandro🤠

alejandro turning putty in your hands as you use an fleshling on his sensitive cock

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

alex 🦿

alex is a messy eater, tongue lapping at your juices and playing with your pussy until your arousal is staining his chin

[bomi60088]

Full on PATREON

[batinanambercolouredhat]

So we all know girl dad Simon riley... But what about BOY dad Simon?!!!

We all know what this man would be making his son did not have the same experience he had growing up, catching up with all the trends, buying his son all the cool things, teaching him to swim, teaching him to ride a bike, to skateboard, to be the fastest and fittest, all so he wouldn't get bullied like he did.

His son would get FED until he could have no more, not in a bad way, no, he just wouldn't want him to starve!

Football? Yes.

Basketball? Yes.

Any clubs? YES.

Bro would do anything for his son.

But if his son turned out to be a mummy's boy?

He would probably have a heart attack thinking about what he did wrong.

[girl-lostconnection]

Fox!Reader: Somebody call an ambulance!

Fox!Reader with moose!König behind them: But not for me!

Soap realizes he may have made a little fuck up here

The reader just jumps on König's back and what do you know, the chase has been reversed 😭

I’m crying, imagine Reader riding König (long pause, looks you in the eye for an uncomfortably long moment. Yeah, imagine Reader riding König.)

Soap is gonna be so fucking mad it happened and also so jealous with his puppy eyes and sad tail and generally whining “hen, who’s that. Hen, ah thought ah was special”.

But then König grins like a mad bastard he is and Soap just starts running because he fucking knows moose hybrids, god, he knows that regular moose would give him trouble. But this guy right there? He’d trample him and say that’s how he always looked

[machveil]

foaming at the mouth

Maine Coon Cat!König living alone in his home, generally unbothered until Bunny!Reader shows up during a storm, seeking shelter under the overhang of his home. Wet, cold and with an injured leg, König takes pity on her and brings her inside.

MCCat!König who doesn't really have many veggies lying around, but he does have some fruit. He watches Bunny!Reader's cheeks grow chubby as she stuffs them with bananas and canned nectarines. Poor thing, she must have been starved. He gives her a can of strawberries as well, which she neatly tucks away in her raincoat. He does not question her about it.

MCCat!König who, after he feeds Bunny!Reader, carefully rolls up the fabric of her pants to inspect and disinfect the nasty cut on her calf, taking the opportunity to give a closer look to her as a whole. He finds himself enchanted with the long, fluffy ears that droop around the sides of her head. Even wet, they still look enticing, cotton-soft and he wants to brush them, rub his cheeks against them, kiss them, pull them, bite them-

MCCat!König who manages to make Bunny!Reader a little nest to sleep in out of spare pillows and blankets, the crackle of the flames dancing in the fireplace lulling her to sleep. He watches her for a while and nearly purrs with delight when she rolls over in her sleep and reveals the round little scut that he'd like to use as a stress ball.

MCCat!König whose big ears twitch as he hears the sound of his front door opening in the morning, knowing Bunny!Reader must have slipped out into the woods again and it makes his heart pang just a little before he resumes his everyday life.

MCCat!König who is absolutely flabbergasted when a week passes and there's a knock on his door behind which stands Bunny!Reader and her three little buns. Without a word, she ushers them inside before disappearing into the woods. He isn't sure what to do. He has half a mind to run after her, but he fears leaving the buns alone would give them an opportunity to cause mischief and he'd rather not come back and find his den on fire. He stays, letting them sit in his big lap and play with his tail that sometimes tickles them on their twitchy little noses, so similar to their mother's. They're very messy eaters too - they seem to love strawberries, little fingers and cheeks sticky with their juice.

MCCat!König who is equally relieved and enraged when Bunny!Reader finally shows up hours later with a satchel of herbs and veggies for her babies who are currently bundled up in the nest he reassembled. He is about to tell her off, inform her that he isn't a babysitter when she stands on her tiptoes and nuzzles his nose ever so gently, difusing his anger completely. He barely blinks before she's off to check on her buns, satisfied with the state she finds them in - alive, with full bellies and sleeping.

MCCat!König who slowly gets used to Bunny!Reader dropping off her kids at his doorstep and watching them for a day or two before she comes back and expresses her gratitude via soft gesture such as nuzzle or a cheek kiss.

MCCat!König who sometimes makes Bunny!Reader stay in the den with the buns to go on a veggie/herb hunt himself, just so she can spend some quality time with them. He can not pinpoint the exact moment he became so whipped for her.

MCCat!König who starts leaving the nest out permanently because he knows Bunny!Reader won't stop coming around and neither will her buns anytime soon (he'd miss them greatly if they did).

MCCat!König who lets Bunny!Reader sleep in the spare cot (that he built just for her) in his room until she decides one night that sleeping beside him would be more comfortable. He does not try to object this in the slightest, not when he can finally feel her fluffy ears on his face.

MCCat!König who regularly grooms the buns' hair and furry ears and Bunny!Reader's as well with his coarse tongue, thinking he's displaying dominance over her. He has no idea she thinks she is the one in charge by letting him groom her.

MCCat!König who's suddenly not alone anymore. The quiet days of his den are over as it's now filled with laughter and chattering of the three little buns who have began to call him "Papa". He never knew two simple syllables could bring him so much joy...and then there's Bunny!Reader, with her genius manipulative tactics that involve licks, kisses and adorable tiny stomps of her feet when she wants something done her way. He would not trade her for anything in the world.

MCCat!König who slowly starts thinking his den is too big for just the five of them...and that perhaps him and Bunny!Reader should start working on some kitten siblings for the buns.

[machveil]

eclair boy🍫✨daily König sketch, ignore the amalgamation between his standard and arachnid skin… I didn’t use a ref lol

[anasteisha-kh]

Miaw 😋

[realfullnameunavailable]

Should I write a Valentine's special with König, featuring him as a teenager or keep him at his canon age (late 30s-early 40s, based on his military rank)?

I wanted to write some fluff about the trending Kisses hoodie, but I'm unsure how age-appropriate it is for men in their thirties.

(It seems more like a teenager's thing than something for grown men.)

Tell me what you'd prefer!

Also, I wanted to thank you all for liking my previous post!♡

I never would have thought that people would like something I wrote out of boredom in the middle of the night, so thank you all!

[darth-mortem]

Ghoap with silly König (I made him)

[thechaoticcheese]

More Sergeant Cheese interactions.

Cheese - drawing and looks like they're pulling at their mask König - Is your mask bugging you? Cheese - Hm? Oh no, I just have a whisker by my mask I fiddle with sometimes. König - staring in confusion Cheese - Here feel, Cheese moves König's hand to the side of their face, while moving their face mask straps so he could feel the singular whisker that's growing König - .... Interesting.

- some time later

Cheese - I don't think König likes me anymore... Ghost- Why? Cheese - Pouting I let him touch my whisker. Ghost - ... Stop coming to me for this. (You have a whisker???)

[nataalista]

I did it :D! König badge!