dream smp x reader : oneshots

↳ ❝ secure. contain. protect. ❞

Request?: nah
Irl or minecraft?: irl (SCP Au)
Type: fluff/kinda angsty (i guess?)
Length: she a long bitch

Summary: after one of the old researchers is brutally murdered by SCP - 682, one of the new researchers is put to the job as a last resort, before 682 is killed
(a/n: i only have limited knowledge of scp foundation stuff, but i am trying my best. pls request more scp stuff if you like it, because ima be real, i love writing this shit - no matter how long it took)
(also i'm doing a slight rewrite of the scp, given the scp is quite different from techno, though i felt that it was the best choice for his character)

(dude i've been writing this for 9 months; i want to die 😭)
(this bitch be my baby fr fr)

CW!: this contains mentions of violence; though that is to be expected with SCP Au stuff

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you tried to limit the amount of shaking your body was doing as you walked through the cool white hallways, your heels clicking on the white porcelain tiles. you were beyond terrified to go near the keter containment class, but you didn't have the authority to say no. and as you walked down to your boss' office to pick up your clipboard with as many files as you would need for the scp, you could feel your heart pounding, but you knew you would have to calm down before entering the keter area, so you can reliably do your job. you took a deep breath before entering the office, and grabbing the correct file, before leaving. you walked past a bunch of the security guards outside of the keter area, and walked to a small closet and put on the required protection gear, such as a pair of more protective shoes, a more protective lab coat for as much coverage as possible, and a medical mask under your chin for easy access. you carefully walked through the halls, terrified as you walked past some of the most worrisome scps known to man (or not so given with the technicalities and such). you walked beside one of the security staff in the most uncomfortable silence possible, but it was a professional environment, this wasn't really the place to talk about really anything other than when another researcher dies, and even then, you have to keep you emotions contained. that was part of the NDA you signed day one; other than you wouldn't speak about it, you legally weren't allowed to have any emotional connection with a staff member, and any remorse shown at the expense of another would mean you would be put on watch, then warning, and as soon as you did it a 3rd time you were done. dead. but that was something set in stone for your own sanity.

you took a deep breath as you looked at the number next to the first set of protective doors. you looked back at the clipboard in your hands, double checking the number. you looked through the one way bullet proof glass, looking at what you would be dealing with, and you tried to keep calm, but you were beyond terrified. you looked at all the blood smears covering the staff personnel facilitation area, which was where you would be spending most of your time doing research. you were terrified to say the least. but you knew that part of being an scp researcher meant you had to be ready to put your life on the line.

you walked into the room, carefully nodding off the security staff, who you knew would be just away from the room, given something went wrong. but you knew that today was the safest you would ever be with this specific scp, given it was protocol for security or protection staff to only show up for the first day of a new scp, before leaving you to get the most reliable data possible before your demise caught up to you.

you took a deep breath before entering the room with the 'new' scp. you knew you would have to be as calm as possible with a new scp. no matter if they are keter or safe or euclid. around a new scp you had to be calm as fuck or else they would sense danger. and since you were going to be with a keter class scp, you had to be as calm and level headed as possible, or else you would be the next dead researcher . the one who barely had enough time to right down any information about the given scp before your bloody intestines were your only remains, lying beside your skull and a couple other thick bones that were too much for the teeth of 682 to actually break down enough to digest.