《Fragile》SCP-049 x Injured!Reader

《Chapter Eight》

Remember how those embarrassing moments from years ago just randomly pop up in your mind at the most inconvenient of times? Like, you'll be laying in bed trying to sleep and your brain decides "hahaha screw you" and replays you tripping going up the stairs during your fifth grade award ceremony.

Right now is one of those moments.

You're currently locked in a janitorial closet with a dangerous man in a bird mask that you don't know how to feel about and the only thing running through your head is the semi-erotic fanfiction you and Ellie wrote together freshman year. It's almost like you're re-reading it word-for-word, blatant grammatical errors included, and you feel like you are going to explode from embarrassment. Thank God he can't read your mind or else he would be subject to terribly-written romance and sub-par smut.

You're also thankful he can't see your face, which you're pretty sure is so red that it would put ripe tomatoes to shame.

The piece of literary sin has—thankfully—since been deleted from Google Docs where you and your best friend had written it after a close scare with a nosy teacher looking in over your shoulders during a study hall. You remember very little of the story's plot (if it actually had one at all) but the one thing you do remember is that the two main characters, who you've forgotten the names of, were forced into a bedroom closet during an after school party.

So, maybe this is karma's way of creatively saying "fuck you" for writing bad fanfiction by making you literally live through it yourself.

However, despite your crippling embarrassment that makes you want nothing more than to throw yourself off the nearest skyscraper, you are still completely and utterly terrified. You would much rather die by falling to your death than by having to face the scary monster somewhere just outside the room hell-bent on killing you and possibly your masked companion.

You begin to tremble, despite your best efforts to keep still. Your poor heart is racing a mile a minute and you can't get it to stop. You can feel the tell-tale signs of a panic attack rising up and your labored breathing hitches in a half-gasp half-sob.

SCP-049's body is mere inches away from your own and that meager distance is closed when he presses his chest to yours and gently wraps his arms around you in a soft hug. For some reason, you expected him to be cold. His hands were, but he wasn't.

You should be feeling embarrassed (well, more embarrassed than before) because you hate having other people see you sad. But you don't. If this were any other situation, you would've stiffened up in another person's embrace, but this time you allowed yourself to melt into it. Your shaking hands reached to clutch SCP-049's cloak in a vice grip and you cried into him. You cry until he begins to rub soothing circles on your back and you are reduced to quiet, stuttering hiccups.

The logical side of your brain is telling you that you're in the arms of a murderer with a dangerous touch and it would be in your best interest to get as far away from him as possible. Logically, you should avoid dangerous people as best as you can, and allowing them to hug you is probably not the best course of action.

To hell with logic.

"The creature has passed by," the dangerous person in question finally spoke up. His voice was low and hushed in a way that made your knees weak.

You sniffled and wiped stray tears from your face. "Is it safe to leave yet?" Your voice was cracked and hoarse, barely even over a whisper.

"No, not quite yet." You felt his grip on you tighten just ever so slightly. Your stomach flipped and the embarrassment started to come crawling back up. "We should remain here for a little while longer to ensure the creature is entirely gone."

You weren't quite sure if you could trust your voice right now, so you just nodded.

The silence in the small space was so thick it felt almost tangible. The sexual tension was astronomical.

SCP-049 takes a deep breath, his chest filling out, pressing against you like a brick wall, and for an instant you can feel the thump of his heart in his ribs. You want to scream. You want to cry. You want SCP-049 to just fucking kiss you like your shitty characters did in your shitty fanfiction goddamnit. Unfortunately (or, fortunately?) you and SCP-049 are not shitty characters nor are you in a shitty fanfiction written by two weird freshman girls. This is real life.

You want to say something to him, but you don't know what. How are you supposed to put what you want to say into words? Hey there mister bird-masked man that can kill people by touching them and that thinks everyone but myself is infected with some sort of disease, I think you're kinda hot and wish you could start a conversation with me so I don't end up self-destructing.

"I cannot remember the last time I have had human contact."

Shit maybe he can read minds.

"Most humans who dare to even get near me are swarming with the pestilence, and even if I desired to touch them, they would die." His voice was so empty, so hollow, that it made your eyes prick with tears again.

"So, what I am attempting to say is thank you, (Y/n), for allowing me to touch you."

And, thus, came forth the most bold act of decision making in your entire life. Your arms, which you had kept awkwardly limp in-between your two bodies, shot up to wrap behind SCP-049's neck and pull him closer to you in a hug of your own. At first he stiffened, surprised, but it didn't take long for him to reciprocate your embrace. His arms repositioned themselves to hold you flush against himself by the small of your back.

You don't know how long you two stayed like that, soaking up each other's presence and reveling in the feeling of having another person to hold close.

It was like hugging an enigma. You knew who SCP-049 was, but you don't really know him. He's the most mysterious being you've ever had the pleasure of knowing. When he examined your knee, he was so gentle. When he led you by the hand, he was so gentle. When he hugged you longer than any boy ever had, he was so gentle. Prior to this strange moment, you had no idea just how drawn to this man you were.

"Although I hate to be the bearer of bad news," he finally spoke up again, interrupting your thoughts, "I recommended we depart and return to your classmates."

You agree with him and the two of you exit the janitor's closet. The fluorescent lights felt like daggers in your eyes after being in near-blackness for so long. Immediately, SCP-049 took your wrist in his hand. When you looked up at him, he appeared to be avoiding your gaze.

He cleared his throat and brought you over to the computer hub you passed by when you first entered the electrical center. Reaching out the hand not holding you, he flipped the third switch labeled "REMOTE DOOR CONTROL."

When you looked at him quizzically, he answered your unspoken question, "This switch will allow us to escape from the facility via Gate A. Once we retrieve your classmates, we will make our way there as quickly as possible."

SCP-049 took your wrist again and began leading you back the way you came. Your heart soared at his words. There's a way out.