#scp x reader

[bitedownme]

King is yandere towards MC, Ambassador is "yandere" towards King. MC is trying to fucking survive.

[thatssomegoodsoup]

SCP 049 x READER HCs

CREDIT FOR ART: JaxerSpots on Reddit (r/SCP)

You're the only foundation researcher he allows to work with him

049 enjoys listening to you ramble / talk / yap

He will enthusiastically talk about human anatomy to you, in great detail

He understands that you can't get him better test subjects and does not push it

049 is not a very affectionate person, and may or may not return affection given to him depending on his mood

His nicknames for you include ma moitié (my better half), mon ciel étoilé (my starry sky) and mon petit colibri (my little hummingbird). He also has a few nicknames for you in Old French (medieval french?)

He likes gifting you bouquets of posies, lavendar, wild herbs, dried roses, and dried carnations (nobody knows where he gets them)

During containment breaches, he would protect you

^ 049 would also take care of any wounds you get (he is a good doctor despite the whole reanimating the dead and curing the pestilence thing)

CREDIT FOR DIVIDER: @thecutestgrotto

it's been a while since I wrote an SCP fic, enjoy!

[blackmoonowl]

scp 049 and 035 protecting the reader during a breach hc?

𝚂𝙲𝙿 𝟶𝟹𝟻 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝟶𝟺𝟿 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑

ꨄ 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚂𝙲𝙿 𝟶𝟹𝟻 / 𝟶𝟺𝟿 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

ꨄ 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: Your local favorite scps locating and protecting you during a containment breach. Established relationships.

ꨄ 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1158

ꨄ 𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: N/A

𝚂𝙲𝙿 𝟶𝟹𝟻

ꨄ At the start of the breach, 035 is completely powerless. Locked in its cell as the red flashing lights illuminate its frown. It can do nothing but wait until some poor soul wanders close enough to fall under his control. It eventually happens. A senior researcher that should have known better, fleeing into the nearby observation room to escape another SCP.

ꨄ SCP-035 considers its options before deciding it should come find you. It prefers escaping with its favorite plaything in tow. It stalks out of the heavy containment zone, most other loose anomalies avoiding it like the plague.

ꨄ It usually has no problem finding you. The knowledge it sapped from its host causing it to know the facility like no other. Besides, it knows you, it knows all of your patterns. You're its favorite, of course it has gotten in your head as much as it could.

ꨄ If by some miracle it can't easily locate you, it grows heavily irritated. The air around it becomes tense, black ooze seeping from its eye and mouth holes at a much faster rate as it tears through the facility. Pray for any unfortunate souls that get in his way.

ꨄ Whatever wretched emotions it was projecting immediately flip once it senses your presence near. Once its got its eyes on you, it wastes no time striding over to you. Whether or not you're safer with or without it, you don't really know. But you do know its the one thing standing between yourself and near certain death.

ꨄ Once its got you in tow, its next objective is to escape without you dying during the process. No other anomalies can get close to you without retaliation from the mask. Most don't even bother to try, you're hardly worth the consequences they'd face.

ꨄ If anything or anyone does attempt to get near you, it won't end well for them. If the severe nosebleeds and headaches won't deter them, the mask's persuasion will get them to do much worse to themselves. Maybe it will be more lenient if you ask it nicely, maybe.

ꨄ Your sadistic companion radiates confidence and glee. It speaks to you, talking all the things the two of you will get to do together once you're both out. Some scenarios are more pleasant sounding than others, but it knows your limits. Its careful not to drive its favorite person away. It would be a waste to have to destroy your mind when it enjoys your current personality so much.

ꨄ Your life is pretty much guaranteed, as one of the biggest threats to your way of living decided it likes you. SCP-035 easily navigates throughout the halls of the site, the ooze seeping out of it slowly degrading its host. It tries to hold the body together as long as possible, but you might need to seek out a new host for it.

ꨄ Even the mobile task force units have a hard time getting near you. Whether you're D-class they need to terminate, or a staff member or SCP they need to re-contain, they just can't get to you. Whatever the outcome of the breach is, you're definitely coming out unharmed. Well, physically anyway.

𝚂𝙲𝙿 𝟶𝟺𝟿

ꨄ While not as aware as the possessive mask, he understands the lethality of the situation. While rarely harmed himself, he wouldn't describe the breaches he experienced as pleasant. As soon as he gets out of his cell, he has two objectives. To find you, and to administer his cure to the afflicted staff of the site.

ꨄ SCP-049 has a vague idea of where to look, but the chaos makes you harder to locate. He tries to locate the staff living quarters, hoping to find you there. But the multiple safeguards held in place makes it hard for him to do. Slowly but surely, the plague doctor becomes agitated and stressed.

ꨄ Bodies are left in his wake, and he makes a mental note in his mind to cure them as soon as he has you back by his side. Some of them he does reanimate, them stumbling behind their good doctor. The longer the breach goes on, the more he starts to worry.

ꨄ He calls your name as soon as he catches sight of you. If at all safe to do so, he will pull you in his arms, breathing a sigh of relief. His heart can rest a little easier knowing you're here where he can see you. His twisted patients stumble not too far behind, not reacting to your presence.

ꨄ SCP-049 wastes no time examining you to the best of his ability. He scans your body for any possible wounds, or god forbid traces of ailment. His strange voice bombarding you with questions. If you did get injured, he treats you immediately. No matter how many times you try to assure him that you're fine, he won't hear any of it.

ꨄ Unlike SCP-035, your plague doctor isn't dead set on escaping at all. All he wants to do is to return to the bodies so he can operate on them. You will catch a small scolding from him if you suggest trying to leave the 'patients' behind. Somewhere you think SCP-049 is just jumping on the chance to 'cure' people after the foundation no longer allowed humans anywhere near him. Additionally, he worries gallivanting throughout the facility will only risk your life more. He deems it safer to hunker down and wait it out.

ꨄ The two of you likely stay in one of the medical stations where he can continue his work without any further interruptions. He will make pleasant conversation with you, as he sews another corpse back up. It doesn't take long for a number of his new patients to stumble throughout the halls of the containment zone.

ꨄ Make no mistakes, though. His pale eyes watch you and the surroundings closely as he carries out the operations. He is swift to react if anything tries to jump out at you. While other anomalies are a bit more daring towards SCP-049 than they would be with SCP-035. That doesn't mean he is a pushover, though. Still, there are likely entities loose that are stronger than he is.

ꨄ If things get too dangerous he might try to make the journey, his eyes firmly on you at all times. The plague doctor trails close behind you, his dark figure casting over you like a tall shadow. His hand remains on your shoulder, as if you'll vanish if he lets go. You'll have to drag him away from anyone 'infected', though.

ꨄ SCP-049 is great at keeping his head cool otherwise, helping you stay calm in the process. Although his face is obscured, you can see that he is on edge. He tries his best to steer the both of you away from dangerous situations to the best of his abilities. Preferably, he releases you into the care of the Mobile Taskforce units that enter the facility, accepting re-containment.

[niltail]

I'M SO FUCKING TIRED OF LOOKING UP YUMESHIP FANFIC OF MY FAVOURITE CHARACTERS AND IT'S MORE SMUT THAN FLUFF OR THERE'S LITTLE CONTENT BUT IT'S ALL SMUT. BRO, I DON'T WANNA READ ABOUT GETTING RAILED BY GRIEFER I JUST WANT WHOLESOME THERAPY CUDDLES FANFIC. OR HEADCANONS. YOU CANNOT ESCAPE THE HEADCANONS.

I'm a minor, and I ofc DNI w that stuff, but finding SFW content is impossible. It's very rare that there's a character that's mostly too pure to be lewded (Forsaken G666 + Noob and a few others) or the fandom is p e a c e and f l u f f but very little content regardless(Minecraft Story Mode), but it's impossible. Leave my fellas alone ffs.

These are the 5 stages of grief(er) I be going thru when I see it's all smut..

UPDATE: Fine, I'll do it myself

[magicalbunbun]

Ever Made a scp?

Yep!

I made a oc! Her name is Chamogéla she is a safe class.

She is able to change her gender how she wants it (genderfluid). Chamogéla is inspired by god dionysus from mythology .

[sweetpayaso]

New ‘x reader’ fanfiction of an obscure/unpopular character dropped:

“You were a good looking girl…”

[i-write-bad]

SCP-049 x Male Reader

"the first free soul"

(1.5k words)

Rated: Teen and up

TWs: sending the reader to die (dw it is NOT tagged "major character death" for a reason), speak of death and previous deaths a lot, dehumanizing language from the researchers towards both reader and SCP-049

Are you sure you are of the species of man? You look to be, but you do not have that smell to you. You… you do not have the scent. None. The Pestilence has not laid its icy hands upon your skin. How? Even before the others are infected, I can sense that they will be soon. The Pestilence smells of stagnation… of nothing. A plague that will one day claim all. You have no such scent. You have something… new. The aroma of life. You will not experience The Great Dying, and yet I do not know why. You will not, and that is all I know.

The inner doors of D-3456044’s tomb shut with a slam of thick metal, and the clunk of an electric lock. The entity spun, its robe draping dramatically behind it as it turned to speak with the researchers currently eyeing it from behind the safety glass.  Merci, mes généreux docteurs. ("Thank you, my generous doctors.")

 It said, gently parting the air with the metallic murmur of its voice.

Est-ce que vous parlez français, ma chère? ("Do you speak French, my dear?")

The man stared at it, unable to speak or move; frozen in place. The entity waited patiently for its question to be acknowledged, but when a few minutes had passed with nothing but the ragged breath of its newest guest to break the silence, SCP-049 spoke again. Can you understand me?

It received a nod and continued. My apologies. I will do my best to speak in phrases you are familiar with. I can speak the King’s English well enough.

The creature paused, clearly considering its next words very carefully, but ended up shaking its head and settling on the truth. I believe that you are my newest test subject.

It finally received an answer as the D-class steeled his expression and took a step back, seemingly deciding that showing fear was akin to rolling over for a cougar. “A-Are you going to touch me?” There was not much confidence in his tone, but he was making an effort. Unfortunately it was difficult to hide the knowledge that he was locked in a containment chamber with an anomalous being that had likely taken the lives of thousands.

Well informed I see. No, I will not touch you. Do you know much of me? Many of the researchers perched above us have a very strange perception of my being.

“I used to be one of them, you know,” he replied, unsure why he was feeling defensive of the people who had stripped him of his position. 

Ah, you are a scientist. Pardon, were. What protocol could you have violated for them to give you to me? I have not been given a live humanoid specimen in years. Though I suppose that is not a very long time for one such as myself. You humans succumb to the Pestilence so early. A shame. 

He defaulted to facility speak as he explained. “Emotional involvement interfering with the experimentation regarding an anomalous object.” 

Many words for such a simple excuse. You and your… your ilk have proven time and time again to be not men of science, but men of- of emotion. I see not what you could have done that would be so unfathomable to your species.

He recalled the conversation between him and the head of his department. The section of Site ██ responsible for appealing the very presence in front of him. His refusal to send for any D-class needed for the planned experiment; one evolving live humans for the first time in years. The way his supervisor had looked at him had almost been taunting. He had received his new orange uniform not an hour later.

I suppose I will concede that based on the average psychological state of the average human, your actions contain some amounts of logical deduction, however the doctors surrounding us are more privy to my way of seeing things. Emotional decisions should never interfere with one’s work, though I do not think an action such as that deserves a death sentence.

He dropped the false confidence and sank into himself, sliding down the wall under the viewing window and becoming practically invisible to the researchers above. “If you are going to kill me, please get it over with. I do not wish for the broadcast of my death to be dragged along any more than necessary,” he muttered, hands coming to rest over his face. He had no desire to stare death head on.

Do not fret. I will not harm you. You are here simply to help me further my research, though that is not always the perception held by the doctors around us. So many have succumbed, and many more will continue to, until such time as a perfect cure can be developed.

Fortunately, I am very close. It is my duty in life to rid the world of it, you see. The Cure To End All Cures! I have spent a lifetime developing my methods, dear, and I will spend a lifetime more, if necessary. Now, we have wasted too much time. There is work to do! 

“Do what you need; just don’t let my death hurt. That is all I ask of you.”

You truly do not understand my procedure, but no matter. If you do not mind, I would like to examine you. I would greatly appreciate it if you would orally respond to some queries of mine. It is my assumption that the foundation keeps detailed medical records of all its employees, yes?

He removed a hand from his face and stared at the creature with incredulity, “Looking to see if I have a blood clotting disorder? I guarantee that will not assist in the reanimation of my corpse.”

You shortsighted humans never fail to amuse me.

The being turned to the scientists behind the glass for the first time during the encounter. Pardon me doctors, would you be able to provide me with the medical records of this lovely creature here?

Ah, right. Would you be able to provide me with the medical records of –

“D-3456044.”

Right. Thank you.

–the records of D-3456044.

A small metal slot was unlocked and a stack of files was deposited through.

Much obliged, doctor.

It studied the man’s file, and he removed the other hand from his face and looked up at the robed figure.

While I understand the desire for practicality and professionalism, reducing one to an object with only a number to individualize them has been known to result in negative psychological outcomes. Not that any of these doctors listen to much of what I say anyway. 

Papers were unorganized in its hands, the files order now muddled for some unknown reason. Your records state that you are almost completely average. It said this as though it were a revelation it was searching for. What was supposed to be its brow furrowed, and it began furiously mumbling to itself before exiting the experiment zone and disappearing into its private quarters. After a few minutes, it returned with a black doctor’s bag, from which it produced a thick, leather bound journal. It frantically flipped through pages fast enough that the man couldn’t even tell if they were filled with writing. 

It paused and slammed the book shut, and putting it away, the noise greatly startling the man. It fixed him with a fascinated stare; looking beneath his skin and into the deeply rooted humors of the body.

Are you sure you are of the species of man? You look to be, but you do not have that smell to you. You… you do not have the scent. None. The Pestilence has not laid its icy hands upon your skin. How? Even before the others are infected, I can sense that they will be soon. The Pestilence smells of stagnation… of nothing. A plague that will one day claim all. You have no such scent. 

You have something… new. The aroma of life. You will not experience the Great Dying, and yet I do not know why. You will not, and that is all I know.

It took several steps towards the man but he did not flinch, watching the way it glided while his brain processed the odd praise it had awarded him. He supposed that the one before him was less of an abomination than he had originally suspected.

I have never met someone who smells of something other than nothing, and sometimes Lavandula Multifida. You smell of life. You smell like me.

It seems that these men of science really are losing their touch! Sending the first free soul I have seen to receive the treatment of the sick.

“Who are you?” 

Ah, yes, I suppose you may call me Doctor. And what shall I call you, ma pousse? ("my sprout") A specimen such as yourself cannot simply be categorized by a number.

The man heard his name one more time than he thought he would ever get to as the Doctor repeated it with awe.

What a befitting name for a creature as alive as you. It rings through the ears like church bells at a funeral. The only thing piercing through the thick veil of death.

The man’s face moved, and he was pretty sure that he was smiling.

Do forgive my perhaps reckless assumption but… akin to the way my body is drawn towards the Pestilence, my mind and soul are drawn to you. Maybe… I apologize for this my dear.

He reached out a leather clad hand and stroked the cheek of the delicate creature before him. He remained warm.

did any of you catch the switch in pronouns :b the plan was for this to be a one shot, but if there is demand, I would be happy to continue it to the best of my abilities!

© property of i-write-bad 2026. refrain from plagiarizing any of my works and do not repost/copy onto any other sites or use in anything involving ai. I do not consent to my work being used to train or otherwise engage with ai.

[anewmako]

i feel like im trying to hunt the Rarest thing known to man kind everytime i see the most GORGEOUS character x reader writing, But end up seeing the reader being super feminine or have super feminine Bodies.

AND THEN THERE'S LIKE BARELY ANY MALE READERS...And when i find some.. It's so obvious they're so close to making said Male reader into a woman or give them Feminine anatomy regardless. 😭🙏

I gotta start writing for masculine and Overall amab readers atp. i shall be the change i wanna see. 🥀

(NOT targeted at anybody /srs)