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anomaly-hivemind · 18 days ago

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Containment Failed ☆ SCP-49 x SCP-35 Possessed! Reader | Kinktober Day 19

Summary: D-class manages to break out scp 35 and put it on. 35 takes over, but somehow not fully. So you're forced to go over to see another scp.

Word Count: 2120

Tags: amab! Reader, gay undertones, gay sex, possession, major character death, SCP-035/SCP-049, violence, breaching containment, swearing, jokes, flirty,

“Okay D-class, step into the room.” The scientist said in a dry tone as the guards pushed them inside. Two D-class stuck in a room with a class-looking box that held a drama mask inside. The mask had a twisted frown on its motionless face, they both looked at the expression. They couldn't take their eyes off of the mask as if it was calling them closer. You take a step closer to the glass, and the mask starts to ooze a black liquid. The other d-class places the hand on the glass, this is a weird voice in your head.

“Free me…” the voice purred, like a whisper and you're not the only one who hears it.

“Free… me…” The voice turned into a hiss and the other D-class let out a wince. You look at the other guy, who looks like he is going to have a nosebleed. Before you could say anything the guy punched at the glass, his fingers were red with blood as he kept punching the glass over and over again until it broke. Breaking his hand in the process, you can hear the way his fingers snap. An alarm started to go off when the glass broke. The other D-class hand was covered in blood as he fished the mask out of the box with haste.

You sit and watch all this go down, whatever daze you were in before it was gone as the door opens and a small group of guards come inside armed and ready to shoot. You take a step back, your back hitting the wall and you watch everything go down.

The other d-class put the mask on their face, the mask was dripping the a new smile on its face this time. Its toothless mask mouth was open in a silent laugh. The guards got ready to shoot but it was too late the other D-class was strangling one of the guards. You try to run off but one of the armored men points their gun at you.

“Get the fuck back!” The guy yelled, and you put your hands up. The other D-class managed to fight the guards, but their bodies got slower as things went on, and you're sure that the bullet holes weren’t helping. The man who was pointing the gun at you was too busy trying to take down the other guy to notice you walking toward the broken glass shards.

“Oh my-” your words feel flat as you look at the scene. The masked D-class was murdering the guards despite looking like Swiss cheese. Until it was just the two of you. The bloodied corpses on the ground, scratchings embedded into the necks, and a couple of eyes popping out of heads.

“You trying to help a friend out,” the other d-class took some sluggish step towards you, their voice crocking as they spoke.

“Come on, man, I could really use your body,” the distorted voice snorts, chuckles, and takes another step closer. Your hands tightened on the glass shards causing it to trickle blood.

“Hey now! Don't mess up the soon-to-be merchandise.” The mask cackles and places a hand on your shoulder. The skin of the guy was literally falling off his bones and you held back the urge to vomit and you barely registered what was said.

“What?” you let out a small whisper as the masked man looked you up and down, its face oozing its liquid from the eye sockets. The body of the d-class that was once as alive as you were, was melting before your very eyes. You let out a hiss as some viscous substance dropped on your skin, it burned but it felt more like hot grease touching you than whatever the hell was happening to the body the mask was currently inhabiting.

The SCP seemed very giddy with the fact that you didn't seem very bothered with the liquid that was leaking. The man…thing, tackled you to the ground, your back slamming into the floor. You let out a gargled hiss as he wrapped his hand around your neck. You fight him off until you see him take off the mask, the material hitting you in the face as it falls. The body it was inhabiting slumps on top of your body, which you quickly throw off of you.

“What the fuck” you think to yourself as you try to process what just happened. You looked at the mask that lay on the ground with a smile on its face. You picked it up, freezing up after you came to a stand.

You can’t put it down, your hand locked onto the mask, and your eyes stuck in place. Your mind becomes a blank slate; you don’t even notice when your hand starts to move closer to your face. Why was this happening right now? You can’t tell. It fits snugly on your face when you put it on. It smells old, and you try to pull it off, but you can’t. You hear laughing as you try to take it off, and it is coming from yourself.

You could feel your body move on its own, you were moving down the hall to some unknown location with some familiarity that you didn't or at least shouldn't know. You moved to take down anyone who was in your way with ease that isn't natural. You could feel a growing heat in your body that was like you were in a hot shower for too long.

You were breaking other scp out of their containment and you couldn't stop. You wanted to stop, you didn't want to kill people or break other things that could also kill someone, that was like you. Just for a distraction to do who knows whatever this mask scp wanted. Their blood was on your hands, some of it literally.

“Your body is great for me.” You heard yourself say, as you stopped in front of a door. It's just like some other scp lockups and with some help from some other scp the door comes open.

“What are you doing here?” The SCP spoke, in a low, unnaturally smooth voice.

“I came to see you, of course. We should run away together.” There was a long moment of silence as you looked at the SCP, who looked like an old-timey plague doctor. Your body wrapped around the other figure, and he let out a groan.

“You know that’s not going to work, right?” 49 said in a tone that couldn’t have sounded more like it involved eye-rolling.

“When has that ever stopped you from breaking out.” Your body shook and convulsed as if you were cold, which couldn't be less of the truth since you felt like you were burning up.

“I hate to say you have a point, but I doubt that vessel of yours will last long enough.” He looked your body up and down. You were feeling a bit fuzzy, but it was most likely because someone else was piloting your meat suit like a puppet.

“Well, this one is actually holding up fantastically; best vessel so far” You do a couple of slutty poses for the SCP in front of you. 49 gives him a short nod and 35 countries to show you off as if you were a high-class prize. “I can show you just how intake this body is.”

The vibes shifted as you spoke in a low tone, and you carelessly started to unzip your jumpsuit to the end of the zipper. SCP 35 pulls your cock out of the suit and starts to jerk your cock off to bring it to life. It was weird to not have control of your body this way; it almost made you feel like you wanted the one stroking your cock; even if it was your own hand. Your body shivers and a hiss leaves your lips. Maybe it came from the mask stuck to your face. You couldn't tell.

You watch your cock get hard in your hand from what feels like a spectator's perspective. SCP 49 watched all this in silence and took a small step forward. He placed a hand on your shoulder. It was cold, and you felt like something was supposed to happen.

“It does seem like you do have a good grip on this vessel but there's something different about this one” He grabs your chin and you feel your heart stutter but you're not sure if it was of your own accord or not.

“Oh well they have a strong will as well as a strong body and they seem to be very present.” Your voice was full of pride.

“That's fascinating,” he looked you up and down at your mostly exposed body. He traces from your chest to your groin. Your hips chase after his touch.

“And I'm sure that he can feel everything and it and it's making all this feel more intense,” 35 chucked and went back to stroking your cock and making sure to use one of the gloved hands of 49.

It feels good, if not entirely invasive, to your consent. You rock your hips into your hand as you stroke your cock in a quiet and inmate situation. You wish you could say something to either of them, but all you could do was yell in your mind and hope that your possessive drama mask could hear you.

“I need you to fuck me…us, just you know what I mean,” 35 stuttered as he moved to take off the jumpsuit completely.

“Before the party, poopers show up to ruin our fun.” You lean on the cold table and wait expectantly.

You jumped a bit at the feeling of 49’s gloved hands gripping your hips. Your body was filled with a mix of dread and excitement, and your heart was beating faster as if you were sure that he was actually going to do it; neither of you seemed to think so by the way you were feeling. A shaky moan leaves your lips when you feel the tip pushing against your tight hole.

“I’m only doing this to shut you up for a while.” He lets out a groan as he pushes deeper into you.

“This is the opposite thing to do when it comes to shutting me up, baby, ~” You chortled between a few, breathing heavily.

49 doesn't answer, only deciding that he should bottom out of you, all of this feels overwhelming to you, but it was also incredibly hot, and your cock twitched for friction it doesn't have. It wasn’t every day or ever since you'd taken something in your ass, and it made your legs tremble with the slightest movements of the other man’s hips, which were only doing shallow strokes.

“Looks like someone enjoying themselves” 35 moves to stroke your abandoned cock slowly to match the shallow thrust of the guy behind us.

The thrusts we’re reaching deep in your entrance. The way 49 was pounding against your prostate sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Who knew the doctor knew how to lay it down or that he could for that matter.

“oh fuck!” you let out a whimper as you flipped over and got on your pack, and he put you in a mating press. You could feel the stretch in your hamstrings. 49 rocked into you at a medium pace. The mask moaned. If you could, your eyes roll back as you feel his rock into you with an almost aggravated force.

You don't think you can last any longer, and your balls tighten, and your cock throbs as you get close to cumming. 49 made hushed, reverberated groans as he moved into you. You could feel the two of you cumming hard. Your legs quaked and your asshole spasmed. Your dick bucked up and twitched as you came ropes of cum into your stomach.

Suddenly the MFT busted into the room guns ready to fire; they froze in place as they saw what's going on.

“Well shit, guess you're gonna die here, bud,” 35 spoke to you as he moved to hold onto 49, wanting to cuddle a little before his vessel was executed.

Ammunition fired into your body, burning, ripping pain consuming your entire being. It was then when SCP 35 had full control of your body, all it took was you dying. The SCPs tried to fight all little before they gave up to be taken to separate containment rooms, and the repost made after it about your little intimate incident was talked about for at least a whole day before the task force had to take anesthetics.

#scp #scp foundation #scp fandom #scp fanfic #scp 49 #scp doctors #smut #kinktober #scp 35 #scp smut #scp 49 smut #scp 35 smut

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wolveria · 1 year ago

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The Raven’s Hymn - Ch 35

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: “I wish they would not take you for their grotesque experiments. Every time they take you from my side, I wish to do unspeakable harm to them.”

AO3

You didn’t know how you managed to make it through the rest of the night without nightmares, but you did, in no small part because of 049. Despite the hours of sleep, you were run down and didn’t speak much the next morning.

“How was your rest?” 049 asked after breakfast, a small affair of berries and some kind of orange pudding.

“Okay,” came your non-response. It was the best you could do, but the bags under your eyes would tell the more honest story.

If only you could have told 049 why you had nightmares. Hell, you would be happy to share the dream in which he’d been a main feature. It still didn’t make sense why the coin would have that sort of effect on you, and there was always the possibility the coin hadn’t done a damn thing. Having an explicit dream about 049, no matter how lucid, wasn’t something you could automatically blame on another SCP. Your mind was more than capable of providing those fantasies itself—and wouldn’t that just be your luck that you had that particular dream at the wrong time.

And yet, the strange déjà vu that followed when you reunited with 049, that hadn’t been imagined. If only you could tell him about the coin and the dream, you were curious what a mind like his could come up with.

Despite 049’s disbelieving look at your assertion, he didn’t push it. He had his own work to focus on; 049 had been given copies of the medical reports of those you had healed. You’d been surprised to learn that he’d been given them while you were gone, and you sensed Dr. Puli’s hand in this. Maybe a way to keep the SCP occupied, because you couldn’t honestly picture the Foundation taking his research seriously enough to ask for his medical opinion.

It was soothing to listen to the scratch of his pen against the pages of his journal. There must have been something anomalous about that book as well, no matter how much he wrote in it he never seemed to run out of paper.

As you washed your hands after eating, your gaze fell to the black bag sitting on the counter. Ancient leather cracked with time and heavy use, you wondered how old it truly was and how 049 had acquired it. Could he pull out anything he could imagine, or could he only remove things that he had put inside beforehand? The Foundation had only let him keep it because he hadn’t attempted to hurt anyone with its contents, but it was still so strange…

Warmth pressed against your back, and you froze.

“I apologize for startling you.” 049’s voice was low in your ear. “You seem so… worn. Is there anything I can do?”

You pulled in a shallow breath through uncooperative lungs.

“Uh, no. I don’t-don’t think so.”

A hard surface brushed against your cheek, the curved surface of his beak just out of the corner of your vision. He’d barely done anything, and your entire system had shut down.

“Is this alleviating your stress?” he asked, his tone lilted into genuine curiosity. “I had thought perhaps a more physical approach would be effective.”

You closed your eyes and inhaled slowly through your nose. What was 049 doing? Christ, he was so close. Your instincts were trapped between equal parts wanting to run and wanting to surrender.

“Effective at what?” you forced out.

“Helping you relax.”

He sounded so sincere, clearly having no idea. No goddamn idea at all what this was doing to you. He didn’t have you trapped against the counter, but it was close enough that your mind eagerly supplied images of 049 bending you over it.

“Should I stop?” Worry colored his words, and he put some distance between you. “I do not wish to discomfort you. It was a treatment I wished to try. Ever since you have returned, your scent has been different. As if quite distressed. I had hoped to… but you’ve been under the experimentation of others already, you do not need me to—”

“No, no,” you interrupted quickly. You’d never heard him ramble before. You turned to face him, giving your best reassuring smile. “Really, it’s… nice. I don’t mind at all.”

He seemed to perk up but didn’t immediately hover over you again, Instead, he indicated you should follow him with a tilt of his head, his gaze observant but warm.

“Perhaps then, we can be efficient in your treatment while also tackling our workload. Have you looked at these medical reports yet? They are fascinating.”

A little curious yourself, you followed him over to his section of the counter where he’d laid out the files, all with the names and details of the patients of the experiment, D-Class and Foundation personnel both.

“No, I haven’t looked yet,” you said, glancing over the reports closest to you. You weren’t sure what you would find, but the distraction was welcome.

Especially when, as soon as you stood at the counter, 049 took up the space behind you, pressing himself along your back as he reached past you to pull some of the files closer. It was like trying to focus on a puzzle while slightly drunk, your brain melting to mush as soon as his weight lightly leaned against you.

049 showed you file after file, all the results the same, each patient completely cured after your combined touch. You tried to listen, you really did. It felt rude not to pay attention to every word, but all of your focus was on trying to remain upright and not push back against him. It was its own kind of sweet torture, and you couldn’t say it was unpleasant.

“Doctor?”

Ah, it seemed he had caught on to your inattention.

You blew out a breath and let out a small, embarrassed noise.

“Perhaps I am more tired lately.”

049’s response was not immediate with words, but he did lean in further. Your hands instinctively braced against the counter even though he was barely putting any weight on you.

“It is quite understandable.”

His voice was directly in your ear, but what stood out to you most was how quiet he was. So quiet it was possible he wasn’t being picked up by the room microphones. You knew from your time on observation duty that there were two: one above the observation window, and a second attached to the camera in the inner chamber.

You slowly glanced over one shoulder, and sure enough, the width of 049’s shoulders blocked you from being seen by anyone in the observation room. Was he doing this intentionally?

“I wish they would not take you for their grotesque experiments,” he continued, his volume keeping at the low level. “Every time they take you from my side, I wish to do unspeakable harm to them.”

You closed your eyes, turning your head to face forward again, goosebumps traveling up your arms.

“I should not say such things,” he said, perhaps taking your stiff posture as fear. “It is unbecoming of a medical physician.”

“You can tell me whatever you want. I won’t judge you.” You winced. “I’ve already done so before, and I don’t wish to do it again.”

He was quiet for a moment, both of his hands resting on the counter just outside of yours, bracing you between his arms.

“We can rely on each other, can’t we?” you asked when the silence grew too much.

His answer came when his cheek rested against the side of your head, covered by the hood of his cloak but still warm.

“I believe we are the only ones who can. Or at least, my trust in you is greater than I have in anyone else. Do you… feel the same?”

It was such a fragile question, vulnerable and easily broken.

“I do,” you said, the answer coming easily.

He made a satisfied hum, the vibration pleasant at your back.

“Despite all that has transpired, I am fortunate to have met you. My existence would have been much more… empty. Hollow.”

Oh. You were grateful he couldn’t see your expression. It was most likely on fire.

“I… know what that’s like.”

“Indeed?”

You could have done without Leahy’s torture, the exhaustion, the goddamn existential horror of it all, but looking back at everything that had happened… you couldn’t say you would take it back. Not with how much you had changed. And erasing it would take away this odd but strangely beautiful relationship you’d developed with the SCP.

“I didn’t really have any friends. I had colleagues and coworkers, and I had my work, but looking back, it does seem very…”

“You were alone.”

You had been. God, you’d been alone for so long you couldn’t remember when you hadn’t been.

“Yes.”

The word came out quiet and somber, like a confession. You closed your eyes and nudged your head against his cheek. He adjusted his position, his jaw propped on top of your head now, and the shape of it was unexpectedly human. Perhaps you shouldn’t be surprised with how human-like his skeletal structure was, but little things like that still caught you off balance.

“I am familiar with the sensation. It is… was a close companion of mine. I suppose, over time, one could grow accustomed to it. But I would not wish to do so again now that I’ve experienced its absence.”

There was a haunted quality there. Not a fear of ghosts, but an acknowledgement that they roamed some places more than the living.

You moved a hand over his, already so close, and your fingers curled in between his gloved ones, your palm pressed against his knuckles.

He squeezed your fingers in return, but your small gesture wasn’t enough. At this angle, the observation crew shouldn’t be able to see more than 049’s back. Intentionally or not, it was a break from the constant surveillance, but more importantly, it was an opportunity for you to be honest and genuine.

You leaned back against him, purposefully nudging your head against his neck. You felt more like a cat trying to rub up against him, and you’d meant it to be comforting, affectionate, a confirmation that you understood his loneliness and didn’t want him to ever feel that again.

But his weight pressed against your back with purpose, his breath at your ear a shuddering exhale, and he nearly did trap you against the counter. There was a sudden lack of restraint in his movements, which made it clear everything he’d done up until now had been carefully controlled.

And then he froze. 049 quickly pulled away, freeing his hand from yours as he stepped away completely. Your back felt cold and horribly exposed to the prying eyes on the other side of the glass.

“I wish to show you my journal,” he said, standing next to you a safe distance away. “I have some ideas how this cure can possibly be replicated by formula. It would be a breakthrough to be able to administer such treatment without needing our presence at the time of delivery—”

He continued on with his scientifically inclined ideas, and it would have almost been normal if not for the way he avoided meeting your gaze and his words ran on without stopping.

You tried not to stare, or at least, not make it obvious to the ever-present viewers. 049 himself didn’t seem to notice your blatant observation, and that was good, because you were reeling and trying to put your feet on steady ground.

What the hell had just happened?

Next Chapter

#the raven's hymn #scp 049 #scp 049 x reader #scp 049 fanfiction #scp fanfiction #wolveria writes

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