You didn't know what to expect from the transfer to KorTac, from what Laswell said there were mostly betas with the exception of two alphas: Konig and Nikto. Except for the fact that after being captured and tortured Nikto's scent glands ended up so severely damaged due to acid burns that he doesn't have a smell anymore. Losing one's scent was equal to losing a part of your identity, you still had your scent at least, not that you were able to feel anything, but the knowledge of its existence was a small comfort. After being discharged you remember frantically looking through your closet in the hopes of finding anything that might make you smell something familiar, but it was no use. That night you laid in bed rubbing your scent glands raw in the hopes that maybe just for a moment you might feel something. You had to stop when the medic threatened to patch them off completely.
There was some talk around the base about Price and the other contesting your transfer, you don't know if it was true and at that point didn't really care anymore. Johnny tried making one last attempt to try and talk to you, but you screamed at him to get away from you. It's hard to say if your outburst or the sight of the destroyed nest was what made him go away. You spend the next few weeks in a state of hypervigilance, not trusting your instincts anymore, instead obsessively checking for microexpressions, nervous tics or tone changes everytime you have to talk with someone. It is stressful and exhausting, but it's the only way to put your mind at ease.
The first thing you feel when meeting KorTac is panic, they're all wearing some kind of masks, the one called Horangi even has sunglasses on. The introduction goes really awkward and you debate if it's too soon to contact Laswell again or if you should just hand in your resignation and save her the paperwork. But then things start going in another direction when they invite you for a movie night as a bonding activity. Which goes surprisingly well, watching Konig cook while scolding Horangi everytime he catches him snacking on ingredients and when he sneaks you a couple of pieces of carrots while winking conspirationally you can't help but smile a little.
There's a silent understanding between you and Nikto, he's the first to sense any small change in your behaviour, always somewhere close. This time there's always one of them watching your back and nobody is left behind. You see the 141 a few more times when the two tasks need to collaborate and anytime one of them tried talking to you one of your teamates, usually Horangi, would just wisk you away to try another of Konig's recipes. You lost count to how many staring contest Ghost and Nikto had, none of them saying anything, not blinking, you're not sure if half the time they were even breathing.
When Gaz's foot gets stucked under a piece of concrete when the wall collapses you're the first person to arrive there and by the time Price and Soap get there you're half carrying Gaz out of the building. Right before the medic takes him away he asks why did you do that to which you answer simply:
"I'm not gonna let people get hurt because of personal grudges."
There's a shadow of shame falling over their faces, but you're already going back with Nikto to the base, Price's raised hand remains still for a moment, the words on the tip of his tongue, but you're already gone.
You start a treatment to slowly regain your sense of smell, but the process is tedious and frustrating, the medication tastes terrible and sometimes it makes you nauseous. You're not sure when the guys start carrying candy around with them so you always have a sweet treat right after the last pill. Konig even brings some fancy chocolate that Horangi tries to steal from only half of the time, none of them ever gets the last piece, instead presenting it to you like some kind of prize.
After a mission that almost goes wrong, you wake up in the infirmary, your teamates sitting around on uncomfortable chairs, rising up at the first sign you're conscious. Despite his severe social anxiety Konig takes off his mask, his hands holding your face and encouraging you to look him in the eyes so you know he's not lying. Nikto brings your hand to his chest, feeling his heart beating eratically:
All he wanted was some attention. Some quality, undivided attention that made him feel chosen. Like he wasn’t a chore or some unwanted obligation. He begged and begged and begged for just a sliver of time and sure he would get it but he could tell it was forced or the other person wasn’t really into it and he was left feeling even worse than before.
Maybe that’s why he held on to you so strongly. You seemed so genuine to him, never complaining or cutting your time together short. It was rarely anything other than platonic or the occasional hug but König was pretty sure he was in love. You’d given him a nickname, “big baby”. It was just a joke, started when you saw his eyes getting all watery after you hugged for the first time. You laughed and held his face, asking “why are you crying, you big baby? It’s just a hug.”
He started following you around wherever you went, like a massive shadow looming over you. And he insisted on holding your hand saying he didn’t want to get separated. Poor thing couldn’t even think of a believable lie, he was so desperate. You would have been happy even if he didn’t say anything and just held your hand. Most of the time you’d have to speak for him, his nerves and social anxiety making him quieter than a cotton ball falling on carpet.
Sometimes you would let him sleep in your room, only fussing at him for being too big so you had to use him as a bed. It wasn’t too bad, he was warmer than all your blankets combined and you ran cold. There was one time where he woke you up in the middle of the night and even in the dark, you could tell he was holding on by a thread trying not to cry.
“Hm? What’s wrong?”
“Liebling, I am sorry. But- uh…” he hesitates, trying to carefully shift you off of him without being too obvious. “I have to fix something.”
You let out a small squeak of confusion when your body hits the bed and you hear him shuffle off to the bathroom and lock the door. You drift off again then wake up after some unknown amount of time to find yourself still in an empty bed and the sounds of König mumbling to himself in the bathroom. You slowly get up, yawning as you go to check on him.
“You alright in there? Come back t’bed…” you groan as you lean your forehead against the door. On the other side, König scrambles to fix himself before opening the door and causing you stumble into him. You look up wanting to be mad at him and suddenly feel very awake when you see his cheeks wet with tears. “Huh? What’s going on with you? Ya big baby.”
You instantly soften up and reach up to wipe his cheeks. Your hands go down and he shudders when they run over his torso. He licks his lips and looks down at your hands, making you follow his gaze and- oh.
“Das.” He says lowly and your eyes are hyper focused on the painful looking bulge in his sweats. The pants weren’t tight by any means but you could just see how hard he was and judging by the wet patch where his tip was, it was evident he’d been having trouble.
You take a slow breath before reaching down and stroking him through the fabric, causing him to flinch and shudder under your touch. Your throat suddenly goes dry when it twitches in your hand and you feel just how heavy it is. He whimpers above you and clenches his fists, trying so hard not to cum in his pants. He hadn’t expected to get so close so quickly when he couldn’t get himself there after ten minutes of trying.
He has to grab your wrist to stop you before he ended up making even more of a mess in his pants and you look up at him. Aside from looking so incredibly guilty, he was very much in desperate need of more. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be…”
“Don’t. Lay down for me, okay?” Your voice is softer than his and you take him back to bed, straddling him once he’s down. Truth be told you had no idea what you were doing but you assumed he didn’t either so it’s not like he’d realize it, right? You settle right on his bulge, breath catching in your throat as you slowly grind your hips back and forth and pull out a pitchy moan from König.
You let out some breathy sounds of your own and lose yourself in the feeling until his hands grab you and lift your hips up just enough to not be on him anymore. You stop and look at him, silently asking why.
“Can we…is it okay if I’m inside you?”
Your heart begins racing but you nod, getting off him to take your bottoms off while he removed his. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when you could actually see his big he was and you keep staring as you get back on top.
“You sure that’s gonna fit?”
“It’s gonna have to.”
His hand travels between your legs and shakily begins to finger you to try and get you ready to take him with as little discomfort as possible. You were a moaning mess above him, and he kept hissing out curses as he watched more of your arousal flow onto his hand with each pump of his fingers. It was easy to get you to cum and once your walls relax enough, he pulls his fingers out and helps you line yourself up with his cock.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” You suddenly blurt out, nails digging into the muscles of his forearms just as he pushes the tip in. He meets your eyes and blinks.
“Was? Do you- do you not want to do it with me?” He asks and his eyes start welling up again. He almost lifts you off but you stop him, sinking down a bit lower.
“No. No I do, it’s just…you’re so big, I don’t know that I can take it.”
König’s whole body relaxes and he carefully turns over so now you were the one under him. “Nonsense, Liebling. I got you, ja?”
You nod, thrown off by the sudden change in demeanor. The change from his usual anxious self to how he calm and collected he was on ops in a split second was a bit jarring but who were you to question it? He slowly leans down and kisses you to muffle the sounds coaxed out of you as he slowly, slowly pushes himself into you. First the tip which already had you squirming and then about half way you were clawing at him trying not to go over the edge.
“König, I-“
“Hey shhh, you’re okay.” He mumbles against your lips. His hands grip your waist tighter as he thrusts the rest of himself in with a grunt and for a split second he’s back to his normal self with another whimper. “Schieße, you’re so- oh my god.”
You barely had any time to process anything going on or react because two pumps in and he was already unloading inside you. You stare at each other while he comes down from his high and you can see the look in his eyes change.
“I’m sorry.” He whines and his hands move up to your shoulders as his hips begin to move again, this time lacking any real rhythm to them. He was still hard and grinding against every inch of your cunt deliciously. He then buries his face in your neck and you feel hot tears against your skin. “Ja. Ja, ja, ja, ja, oh- shit.”
He cums a second time, now with your walls clamping down on him when your release finally arrives. You squeeze and squeeze, making him twitch and grip your shoulders harder as you milk him for everything he has. He pulls out only to lay you on your side so he can get behind you and stick his cock back in.
“I need more, Liebling. I’m sorry, I just need more.” He mutters sleepy apologies into the pillow as he begins to soften inside of you, and proceeds to fuck you awake three more times that night without changing position.
Neglected omega reader who got taken care of by someone else. Nikolai or Konig. The drama ✨✨
I hope i did KorTac justice, I’ve never written them before except König lol @nightunite pspspsps i have nikto crumbs 🙏🏻
Neglected omega reader p1 + p2
KorTac had always liked you.
From the very first moment they’d met you, they’d been drawn in- pulled by the quiet gravity of your presence and the sharp edge of your competence. You were quick on your feet, sharp with a knife, steady under pressure. Smart and resourceful in a way that demanded respect.
But more than that?
You had heart.
You’d been assigned to their unit during a joint operation months ago. Just a temporary deployment, only meant to last a few weeks, but it had been long enough for them to notice things- little things they hadn’t been able to forget.
The way you’d patched König up without hesitation after a mission went sideways, hands steady even as blood slicked your fingers. The way you’d shared your rations with Horangi after a supply drop came in light, brushing off his protests with a stubborn glare. The way you’d sat quietly beside Nikto on watch, not asking questions when he didn’t feel like talking but always ready to listen when he did.
They noticed you, and they liked what they saw.
Liked the way you worked. Liked the way you took care of your team without ever expecting anything in return. Liked the way you carried yourself- confident but kind. Fierce but soft.
But you weren’t theirs. Couldn’t be.
You belonged to 141, and KorTac had backed off, unwilling to overstep boundaries when you already had a pack waiting for you at home. They’d told themselves it was fine- they were fine- watching from a distance.
But then you came back.
Alone.
Hollow-eyed and sharp-edged, moving like a ghost through the halls of the base, and suddenly?
All bets were off.
The first time König sees you in such a state, it’s in the corridor outside the mess hall.
You don’t look up when he walks by, don’t even seem to notice the sheer weight of his presence as he slows, lingering just long enough to let his shadow stretch over you. You’re leaning against the wall like you’re trying to hold yourself together, arms wrapped tight around your middle, shoulders curled inward. Small. Smaller than he’s ever seen you look before. Smaller than he’d ever thought he’d ever see you.
His instincts itch- Omega, alone, hurting- but you’re not his. And still…
His eyes track the tired slump of your shoulders, the way your clothes hang loose, like you’ve been skipping meals. He scents the air. Picks up the faded traces of peach and rose, but there’s something sour underneath- bitter and wrong, like spoiled fruit. König’s stomach twists.
It’s the scent of neglect.
You should never have looked like this. You should have never smelled like this.
Not you. Not the Omega who had once dragged him out of the line of fire without hesitation, barking orders and holding the line until reinforcements arrived. Not the Omega who had once laughed with him under a tin roof during a monsoon, eyes bright.
The smell lingers after he walks away, clinging to the back of his throat like smoke. But it’s the emptiness of it- the hollowness- that keeps him awake that night, staring at the ceiling and wondering which one of those 141 bastards let their Omega rot like this.
The next time König sees you, it’s in the armory.
You’re cataloging weapons, checking and re-checking the tags with mechanical precision, but your hands shake when you reach for the next one. Just a little. Just enough for him to notice.
König moves closer. Quiet, but not too quiet- he doesn’t want to startle you. You don’t look up until his shadow stretches over your workbench, and when you do, the look in your eyes hits him like a gut-punch.
Flat. Guarded. Resigned.
Like you’re expecting him to scold you.
König’s heart cracks wide open. He grips the edge of the table just to keep from reaching out.
“Doing good work.” He says softly, and you just blink.
It’s such a small thing- barely even a compliment- but your throat bobs like you’re swallowing something down. Then you duck your head and go back to your task, not looking at him again.
But you don’t flinch.
Not this time.
Nikto is next, and he doesn’t hesitate.
He remembers you. Remembers the way you’d stood shoulder to shoulder with him in the rain, eyes scanning the horizon with sharp focus as you both waited for the enemy to make their move.
You hadn’t been scared. Not even a little.
And now?
He catches you outside the rec room, sitting on the stairs with your knees drawn up to your chest. You don’t even react when he approaches, just keep staring at the floor like it might swallow you whole.
Now, you look like you’re drowning.
So Nikto doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t say anything. Just crouches down beside you and sets a cup of coffee at your feet before walking away.
You stare at it for almost five minutes before finally picking it up.
The next morning, he does it again. Same cup. Same coffee. Same wordless offering.
It becomes a routine- something quiet and steady, something you can rely on when everything else feels too heavy.
And then there’s Horangi, who pushes the hardest.
He pushes, because he knows you can take it.
You had before- back when you’d yelled at him for ignoring orders and running off alone, eyes blazing as you shoved him back toward the evac point. He’d liked your fire back then, liked the way you didn’t back down even when he towered over you.
But now?
Now your fire’s gone out, and there’s only one group to blame.
So Horangi pushes. Tests the waters, pokes at the edges, trying to find the spark he knows is still there. He is the loudest of the three, sharp and quick with his words, but he also knows when to keep them soft. He finds you cleaning your gear one night and sits down beside you without asking.
“You missed dinner.” He says casually, pulling out a protein bar and tossing it onto your lap. Pushing past the bubble you’ve wrapped around yourself, yet not being overbearing or too much.
You open your mouth to argue, but he cuts you off.
“I’m not your Alpha,” he says with a shrug. “You don’t have to listen to me.”
You close your mouth. Look down at the protein bar. Then, without a word, you tear it open and take a bite.
Horangi grins. And just like that, he’s in.
And when you finally- finally- smile at one of his jokes?
He knows he’s got you.
141 starts noticing the shift almost immediately. Soap catches König lingering near you in the gym, eyes following the curve of your spine as you stretch, and something inside him snaps.
Ghost sees Nikto brush his fingers against yours when he hands you something, and his jaw clenches so tight he can hear his teeth grind.
Price overhears Horangi making you laugh- a real, honest-to-God laugh, a sound he can’t hear any longer even in his dreams- and has to excuse himself before he says something he can’t take back.
It gets worse when your scent starts to change; the bitterness fades first, then the sourness.
The first time Price catches a hint of warmth blooming underneath, it stops him dead in his tracks.
Because it isn’t for him. It isn’t for them.
It’s even worse to know that they drove you to it, and have no one to blame but themselves.
They let you fall through the cracks. Let the weight of their own issues and distractions leave you stranded in the dark, too far away for them to pull you back when they finally noticed you were gone.
And now? Now KorTac is picking up the pieces, with no hesitation.
König steadies you. Makes sure you eat, makes sure you rest, makes sure you feel safe even when the world outside is crumbling. Doesn’t push you away when you, big hand lingering on the curve of your spine until his scent is left there.
Nikto grounds you. Offers quiet comfort without demands, without expectations. Makes sure you know he’s there, always there, steady and unshakable. A lighthouse in the stormy seas, the hand that pulls you out of the swirling ocean.
Horangi pushes and pushes. Draws out smiles and laughter, reminds you what it feels like to be wanted. Finds excuses to bump shoulders or brush against you when you pass, just to see if you’ll let him.
And you do. You let all of them, slowly greeting them with the quietest little purr (cat activation noise).
Because it’s easier to be wanted by them than it is to be unwanted by your own pack.
And slowly- so slowly it hurts- you start to come back to life; your scent changes. Softens. Warms. The bitterness fades and the sourness disappears.
And all they can do is only watch as König takes the space they abandoned. As Nikto feeds the hunger they ignored. As Horangi brings back the fire they let burn out.
And they can’t do a damn thing about it.
Because the truth is- KorTac wanted you from the start, and now that they’ve got you?
König- He said it first... Accidentally. It slipped out while he was waking up from some strong as hell anesthesia. You, being his concerned partner, ran in as soon as the nurses gave the okay. So there he was, lying on the hospital bed, and he was on the verge of tears the moment he saw you.
"Schatz …! Oh, da bist du ja … Ich habe dich vermisst!" His words were a bit slurred, and you had to place a hand on his chest to encourage him to stay down. "Oh, ich… Hehe... I love youuuu..."
When you tell him about it later, he's mortified but confirms that he meant it... He just wishes that he could've done it with more grace.
(Translation: Honey…! Oh, there you are… I missed you!)
Horangi- For someone who loves games of chance, this man was not going to take a chance by saying it too soon. Horangi did not want to come off as some clingy, mushy bastard. Or at least not yet.
So, of course, you had to say it first. It was before a massive operation, one where you wouldn't be by his side. You gave each other the usual 'don't die' and 'I'll haunt you if I die' talk, all lighthearted and nonchalant... Until the one meant to lead your team calls for you over the radio. You gently butt your helmet against his and just go for it.
"Kim... I love you. Okay?" You keep your voice low, only so he could hear.
His brain short circuited for a second, but he managed to respond very eloquently.
"I... Y-you too..."
You're gone (and laughing) before he can correct himself. He might've only lived through the mission out of sheer determination to actually say it back.
Nikto- This man would say it first as if he's said it before. So casual... Too casual.
It catches you off-guard, he was just complaining about how he had to go and clear up some mission details with his boss. His voice goes from soft, to a near growl, bored, and back to soft again... You're pretty used to his mannerisms since he always comes to you with a post-mission rant. You let him ramble a bit while you sharpen some knives, being the active listener he needs.
In the middle of it all, he suddenly hits you with: "You are a good listener... We love that." He pauses, then corrects himself with, "We love you. Anyway..."
You almost slip and nick yourself with the knife, turning to look at him properly. Maybe you should ask him to circle back to that, but he's already enthusiastically going on about something else that happened.
It had been months since your mission went to shit, leaving you a near-literal husk of a being, bled almost dry, eyes just this side of clouding over.
Somehow, by some stroke of (horrid) luck, you survived. Got dragged out like a useless mattress to be discarded, thrown into a bin so its former owner may dust their hands free of you. Except, that’s not what happened.
Months ago, you had woken up in pain, bedridden, your body wracked with infection and fever. Almost didn’t make it due to sepsis. Almost.
And now, you sat here, watching some guy in a mask that reminded you of… someone else, though you couldn’t put your finger on it. This man, Nikto, was busy shaving slices of wood off a large chunk he’d scrounged up from seemingly nowhere, though you weren’t sure what his intentions with it were yet.
“Who do you fight for?” He asked unexpectedly.
You paused. Froze, buffered for a moment. “Uh. Crown and country?”
“Нет. Try again.”
His immediate shutdown of your answer threw you for a loop. That… was what you were fighting for, wasn’t it? To protect the people, take down the bad guys so that citizens could sleep easy at night? If not, what else could you have been fighting for?
When you didn’t respond, he glanced up at you, hazel eyes sharp enough to make you sit up straighter. Nikto was not a patient man, you came to learn that quickly. The recent addition of your brain fog, unfortunately, didn’t make interacting with him particularly easy when your thoughts began to stutter and lag.
“I fight for… for people. To. Protect them.”
“Не правильно,” he hissed out. You winced. “One more try, котенок.”
Your mouth opened, then slid shut. The loose ideas you had in your head of what he might be searching for scattered like dandelion seeds blown from their root, flying out of your grasp before you could form them into images. “I don’t know.”
He grunted, his knife getting caught for a split moment before he forced it through the wood roughly. “Yourself,” he answered. “You fight to stay alive.”
“Alive.”
“If you do not fight,” he stopped, turning his head to nail you into place with his glare. “You die.”
You nearly had.
You weren’t sure if your continued survival, the fact that you came out the other end of that hell still walking and talking and breathing, could have been considered as you fighting to stay alive. If anything, you actively wanted to die. Whenever you had the strength to fight back, you’d put up a fuss, refusing to eat from the spoon that the Big One held to your lips, to drink the medicinal tea he brewed. He’d sigh and put the mug down, giving you the false belief you’d won.
Then, he was pinching a bit too close to one of your wounds as punishment, scolding you in accented English. You learned quickly to simply take the bitter medicine he slipped down your throat and suckle on the orange slice afterwards, accepting his bizarre sense of praise.
“What. If I don’t want. To?” You asked.
Nikto hummed, rotating the wood in his hand to observe his progress. “Then you find reason to.”
“I don’t have…” You trailed off, spacing out before you regathered yourself, “reason.”
“We will find reason for you,” he assured. Promised. Threatened. “Revenge is always good reason.”
Whoever this stranger was, for whatever reason, he’d taken a liking to you. A soft spot, maybe, given he hadn’t put a bullet in you himself. It wasn’t his first time suggesting revenge. Justice for some crime you couldn’t remember. Didn’t know if it existed at all. He wanted to punish a crime neither of you could name.
Well, it’s not like you had anything better to do. No name, no home, no nation. All you knew was that you worked in the British army before you were… ‘rescued’ by a group that called themselves KorTac.
So, you let them take you. You had few complaints on the matter. They were fine people, good company. Trained you at your pace.
It was clear you wouldn’t be able to go back on the field, not like you previously could. Your body was broken, maybe not beyond repair, but it’d be a good, long time before the thick band of scarring on your stomach and head trauma would stop holding you back. Therefore, it was determined that you’d take up the job of being overwatch. KorTac could use an eagle, somebody to watch their back without needing to return the favor, carry the extra weight.
You didn’t mind. It was peaceful, comparatively. Of what you could remember, you knew that having your boots on the ground was never peaceful. You never had a moment of rest, a chance to recuperate. Your heart was always pounding, always on alert. Eyes always bloodshot from how little you blinked so that you wouldn’t miss anything, body aching everywhere, muscles eating themselves when you ran out of MREs.
If anything, you preferred to be back at the temporary bases they would occupy during each job. The various screens would inevitably give you a migraine, but you could snack in peace, and piss when you needed to. All you had to do was map a route for them, track enemy surveillance, clear paths. All significantly easier from a monitor than in person.
KorTac benefitted, too.
Their jobs went by faster, cleaner. Information was tracked down and passed onto you, and you examined it, sent in what was relevant, easily forgot what wasn’t. More than once, you had Krueger mutter things in German in your ear, low and sultry. It frequently earned him a smack upside the head from König. You figured he was thanking you for making his life easier, given he’d slide a mug of tea to you, place a souvenir in your palm whenever they returned.
Horangi, too, seemed delighted by your addition to their team. He took to you like a moth to flame, enamored by your oddness. Teasing. He asked questions, then asked again the next day to see if your answer would change. Encourage you to make your answers longer, then recite them. It took you a while to realize that he was trying to help with your speech impediment and ailing memory. Nikto claimed you had tamed the tiger by being stupid. Horangi didn’t argue the matter, so you didn’t either, letting him coddle you and assure that you weren’t stupid.
Just a fluffy little kitten in need of a guardian to teach you how to hunt again.
König preferred bunny. Krueger preferred cub. Regardless, you were the pup of the pack they needed to protect and take care of. At your beck and call, though you rarely called. König hated that, the way you’d try to power through your bad days, when your head ached and vision blurred and stomach felt as though its scar had been torn right open.
“Need I always remind you to ask for help, häschen?” A gentle flick to your forehead, then he was herding you to the couch in the common room of the safehouse, laying you down to nap like a babe. You rarely fought against it anymore, knowing it’d be fruitless. Besides, a nap sounded wonderful.
In the spaces of rest between jobs and illness and fatigue, you sought for meaning. Reason, like Nikto suggested. Maybe revenge wasn’t a bad idea, but against what was the question. You didn’t feel particularly aggrieved by anyone. You were sure having your memories would be a significant aid to finding your reason, but… this wasn’t so bad. Simply existing, following orders, letting your team lead while you breathed freely after what feels like being submerged underwater your entire life.
This was alright, you decided.
Until it wasn’t.
It was one of the few times you accompanied them on the field. You could still aim, still shoot, though your job was mainly extraction. The getaway drive.
You’d only wanted to step out of the car for a chance to breathe outside the vehicle, fresh air when the leather seats of the car stank enough to get your heartbeat pulsing behind your eyes. But the moment your feet touched the damp soil, there was a hand on your arm yanking you to the side.
Your back pressed against someone’s chest, their vest and gear digging uncomfortably through your jumper. Fear and panic didn’t quite catch up until there was cold metal pressed against your throat and a masked face directly in front of your own.
For a few long, staggering seconds, there was only silence.
Then–
“Bloody hell,” the person in front of you muttered, gutted. “Tales?”
…What? Tales? What was this man–
The blade suddenly left your throat, and you were spun around to face the person behind you.
A skull. Half of one, plastered to the behemoth’s head, lower jaw torn off. Dark eyes, darker than the pitch of night you stood under, stared into your soul, pried you apart, ripped you to shreds. He inhaled sharply, said a name, your name.
God, if you didn't have some bad habits. It didn't matter how many times people warned you. You never learn. Or at least, never made an effort to. Who really cared if you bit your nails, skipped breakfast all some times, left your task until the last minute, or went to bed way too late most days? You were a grown adult. You could take care of yourself.
There's was that one bad habit, though, that was getting infuriating for everyone else and had gotten you in trouble a couple of times. Not fucking knocking before entering a room.
But you probably had never gotten into as much trouble as you where about to, walking into the Colonel's room unannounced.
What you were face with as you open the door was... unfathomable.
Deep down you knew it was Konig in front of you, like the knowledge of that fact was engraved deep in your bones, but your mind couldn't reconsolidate that fact with what was standing in front of you.
You had thought there would be a face under that hood. There should have been a face under the hood. But he was standing there, hood off, and what you were seeing couldn't be described as a face. Actually, you were not even sure you could have described it.
It was... something unnamable that was somehow ending in what you could identify as tentacles, twisting and twirling erratically and without any discernible pattern. The only things you could recognize for sure were his eyes. Unmistakably his and digging deep into your soul. There was an emotion you could quite place going through you at the sight of it all. Not really fear, anxiety, or trepidation. More like a fuck up type of fascination.
Everything was at a stand still for a long moment until you finally managed to find your words.
"I... The new fatigues arrived... I was distributing them..." Unable to tear your eyes away from what should have been a terrifying sight.
And he to stared from a moment longer. "That's it?" He asked. It was still his voice, a human voice, unchanged, yet it seemed to resonate in your mind this time around.
"...yes? Sorry, I guess I should have knocked..." Still with that characteristic nonchalance toward your bad habit, even when faced with something so otherworldly.
"I was talking about your reaction, Corporal." He said with a dark chuckle. "Most people would normally go crazy with fear at sight the unknown, go screaming and running." He extended an arm over your shoulder as he talked, closing the door behind you.
You had no idea how he had gotten this close so quickly. Hell, you hadn't even seen him move. It's like the room had just been shorter for a second.
"Did you want me to scream?" You asked without thinking, before letting out unconvincing and monotone "Aaaaaa..." sound ever, not even a proper scream, lost in your fascination for the multiple seemingly slimy appendages on Konig's "face". They were making that wet sound as they slithered through the air in your direction, as if from their own volition.
It all just made him chuckle again, the sound sharp and predatory to your ears. "What a though nut. Unafraid of staring into the void." He said as he loomed over you. You couldn't decide if it had ben meant as more teasing or degrading.
"I wasn't aware it as 'stare into the void and the void stares back at you' type of situation." You answered breathlessly. You couldn't help but be... affected... by the sight of your very clearly inhumane Colonel looking down on at you.
"More accurately the Depth in this case, Schatz. And it is no simple staring." Staring or not, you couldn't take your eyes off of him. You didn't think you could actually. It was like some invisible, powerful force was keeping you lock, unmoving, to that very spot, looking at those tentacles. How they were moving towards you, their viscus coating drooling and pooling unto the floor before you.
"Do you like what you see, Schartz?" Konig asked, his voice seemingly booming strait into your head the more he talked.
You couldn't stop yourself from answering right away, the words somehow compelled out of you before you could think better. "They're so... so pretty and fascinating. I'd like to touch them, feel then, let them rip me apart, pull my organs out and use my dead body."
A deep, inhuman sound came out of Konig, one you could somehow still interpret as disappointment.
"I'm- I'm sorry. I don't know where that came from." You said quickly, feeling truly mortified.
"Humans, always the same, going insane at the quickest glance. I shouldn't have hoped. You're still going mad like the other, just differently." You could tell he isn't really talking to you anymore. The interest he had hold for you just a moment ago was evaporating at an alarming rate. "You really should have knocked." He added as he stepped away from you.
"No! Please. I'm sorry." You didn't know why this distressed you so much. Before you was standing some kind of horror, and you just couldn't accept to see him go. You stumbled closer, almost by instinct, and reached up to... what? Cup his nonexistent cheeks? It doesn't really matter since his tentacles instantly wrapped around your hands to moment they were in reach.
The appendages were cold, slimly, their color seemingly changed around your touch. And the... how would you have called it? Slick?... covering them had an oil like sheen and left a tingling sensation on your skin.
Konig looked surprised. As if he hadn't expected you to dare or even simply be able to reach out. His eyes simply darkened as he looked down at you. "Maybe I should make use of you before you die if you're this eager."
You barely had the time to stammer out a "What?" before you got pushed roughly into the bed. There was so many more tentacles now, coming from God knew where.
"The higher-ups should really stop trying to recruit humans. You're pathetic compared to us. Only good to die from madness when you inevitably find out about the unseen." Some of those new tentacles moved to restrain and circle your hands and arms. "And for a second you had me thinking you were different, Corporal. Almost special."
Us? So many of the operators of KorTac wore mask. Were they all hiding some secret of an eldritch nature too?
"Ah! Wait. Konig, please." You weren't sure you really wanted him to stop. Maybe he was right, maybe you truly were going mad. But there was something new forming deep inside of you. A want, no, a need to know, to learn, to understand, to feel, to experience him. Yet you were still just enough in control to realize just how irrational it all was.
You tried to struggle against the thigh coils only to find your arms were a lot less responsive then before, almost sluggish.
Konig simply laughed at the confused expression on your face, the noises coming out of him sounding a lot more sadistic this time around.
"Just realizing something is wrong, Schartz?" He mocked. "The mucus coating on my tentacles works as a strong muscle relaxant on most creature. There won't be any fighting out of this for you, I'm afraid."
Some part of you begs to scream, struggle, flee at the knowledge. And maybe you should. You're at the mercy of something otherworldly, something who just implied multiple time you didn't have long left to live. And yet, another part, the one that as been growing in the past few moments, already begs for more of that tingling hot sensation.
"Humans aren't even that good at carrying a brood, only being successful one out of ten times." He said as he undid your pants' closure, a tentacle sneaking in while another pushed under your shirt. "But if you have to go crazy anyway, might as well pump you full. Maybe you'll manage to at least be a good incubator before we have to put you out of your misery."
His words and the knowledge that the more he touched you, the less you would be able to fight back should have concern you, but all you could do was moan and shiver at the touch of his many appendages.
Despite everything You were still looking up at him with so mush fascination. How could you not? There was a certain beauty in what your mind couldn't comprehend. Like how every tentacles seem to move with him, but seemingly of their own volition.
All your thoughts flew out the window as Konig managed to pull bot your pants and underwear off in one motion, and the more sinuous and independent of his limbs seemingly took the action as an invitation to wrap around and explore your flesh.
You gasped as multiple of them seemed to fight to be the one to explore the space between your legs. The Colonel, for his part, pushed you legs apart and pressed them up against the bed as he let out a deep humming noise you couldn't quite interpret.
God, by now you could barely move your arms with how heavy and loose they felt. And he was doing that to the rest of your body?
"Don't bother trying to move, Schartz. Even if the muscle relaxant isn't enough to immobilize you completely, I have plenty of limbs to keep you still." He told you has more of his glistening tendrils moved over you.
It's almost as if they were curios too, pushing and prodding you, wrapping and squeezing around your limbs, ever moving. They liger around certain areas, dig in harder when you make any kind of noise.
Reality studently crashed back into you as you felt them moving higher up your inner thigh. That rational part of your mind that had been drown out for the past few minutes seem to resurface with a sense of panic, finally letting you realize just how fuckup and dangerous this all was getting. "Konig, wait!"
"Too late, Corporal. You're the one who wanted to let them rip you apart, remember?" He said as his voice took on a cruel edge.
Some one the tentacles were prodding at your entrance, pushing and curling against one another in an attempt to be the one to breach you. That didn't last long as one of Konig's hands leave your leg to guide a specific one in.
You let out a cry and arched your back has it pushed inside of you. It was thick. Thicker then it seemed. And it, or Konig, didn't seem keen on taking the time to stretch you out.
"Pathetic little human, clenching around me like you life depended on it. It won't take long before your loose and relaxed enough to take my eggs." He told you.
You didn't know what you had expected him to do, but there was no in hand out motion. No, you had a seemingly very eager appendages exploring every of your deepest regions, coating every inch of you with its sleek.
It had no right feeling this good. But somehow it kept hitting all of the right spot. The viscus coating somehow had you more sensitive then you had ever been and the contrast of the cold tentacles inside your warmth felt euphoric in that moment.
"Konig. Konig, please." You didn't even know what you were begging for, just that all of this was too much and yet too little at the same time.
You let out a loud gasp as another managed to pushed its way in, just as eager to explore you as the first.
You could feel yourself shaking and squeezing around him. Why were you already so close to the edge? Why were you finding so much pleasure in this in the first place?? He most have been right, you were loosing your mind. Well... with pleasure, at least.
His slimy appendages kept moving inside of you, coiling around one another, forcing your hole open. And the stretch, God, the stretch.
The orgasm came over you without warning and with a cry of, admittedly, confused pleasure. It was stronger then any you had ever felt before, making you convulse underneath him. You never thought your body was ever capable of gushing out as mush fluid as it was right now.
You went lax, your body already heavy from his touch, your mind going blank. You felt soo sluggish and tired all of a sudden.
"I'd say your just about ready to receive my brood, Schartz." Konig told you as he let out a vibrating noise. A purr? Your mind was too fuggy to interpret it correctly at this point. The best you could do was whine when his tentacles pulled out.
You didn't even have the strength to move your legs when he let go of them, let alone lift your head to look at what he was doing. You still try to, though, and caught a glimpse of his now open pants.
Obviously, obviously there's more tentacles there. What did you think? But the one that slithered out seemed different. Not exactly the same color as the others with a slit at the tip of it and already leaking a thicker kind of slick.
This time around, your body didn't offer any resistance toward the intrusion, the muscle relaxant having done it's job, leaving you loose and open.
Your body might have been pliable, but that didn't mean you couldn't feel anything anymore. You could still feel everything oh so intensely and it had you moaning once more.
You were getting delirious at this point, letting out some barely audible mumbles that would have been gibberish to most ears. Most human ears, at least.
"Aimgr'luhh, Y' ai..." A small pose for a soft moan. "..S'uhnog, Y' uaaah.." And a long shuttering breath before finishing. "l' ymg' gnaiigof'n Y' goka ya, Cthulhu. llll Y' ahor, llll will, llll fhtagnor ng fhalma gn'thornythh."
"You most really be too far gone if you're murmuring like that, Corporal. I never thought I would hear a human breathe words in the deep tongue. And I suspect you don't even know what you're saying. " Konig pointed out with pity. "But as soft as you're being, some of us have sharp ears, and we can't have anyone earing you speak that." He continued as a tentacle slipped into your mouth, silencing you.
That had your last few functional brain cells concentrating so hard on trying to bread around the thing that you were completely oblivious to just how deep the one between your legs had gotten.
That is, until you felt something small and squishy get pushed deep inside. Deeper then you thought possible. And then you felt another being deposited beside it. Then another, and another, and more after that.
Enough that you started to feel blotted, and heavy weight sitting nestled deep within. And Konig didn't seem like he was about to stop.
You didn't know how long it would still be, but you were so tired, and black spot had started to dance in your vision. As much as you wanted to cling to consciousness, you simply couldn't anymore.
Konig had expected to wake from his slumber to either a poor human with a fractured mind cowering in a corner or a cold body in his bed. He found neither. Actually, you were nowhere to be found in the room.
When he did find you, you looked normal, sane even. Although, he could see the barely perceptible swell of your stomach and the dried oil slick patter still on your skin.
And that's exactly when he realize just how wrong he was about you. You're clearly affected by the unknown, but you are different from other humans.
And now that he knew that, he couldn't let you walk around like that. He couldn't risk the most promising broodmare and a more then likely successful clutch on ops. Neither could he let the others realize just how special you were turning out to be and take you away from him.
Drivers by @cafekitsune | Header by me
That was... a lot of time and effort put into one single post. Hope you enjoy.
Since Designationless! Reader is incapable of having a scent, they aren't capable of even having body odor. And then having no body odor also entails in not being able to sweat which would mean they have something called Anhidrosis, the inability to sweat. This can cause health issues involving overheating and dehydration.
I can just imagine their packmates absolutely doting on them and making sure they drink enough water and are cool enough, especially throughout missions.
