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lictvison · 1 year

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Spanish:

Scp-1381 o como el se hace llamar “Nill” es un humanoide con la particular habilidad de que cualquier persona en un radio de 5 metros, sienta una gran curiosidad con verle el rostro, si la víctima cae en esto va a caer perdidamente enamorada de SCP-1381 al punto de una enfermiza obsesión. Si 1381 se aburre de la víctima o ya consiguió lo que quiso de esta, una simple beso bastará para asesinar a su víctima (algo similar como el toque de SCP-049).

Cualquiera que haya estado en con tan yo con Nill y a sobrevivido (ya sea separándolo de la entidad o que esté lo deje vivir) sentirá una gran desesperación por volver con SCP-1381, luego de cierto tiempo en insolación volverá a la normalidad; aunque sin poder experimentar cariño por otra persona que no sea Nill. Las personas que han visto su rostro siempre lo van a describir como: “La criatura más bella en el mundo”

A pesar de estas cualidades, Nill es alguien egocéntrico, egoísta, avaricioso y manipulador. Siempre intentará endulzarte a que le mires el rostro o que directamente lo adores, pocas veces se le a visto siendo genuinamente amistoso con alguien y en si es alguien bastante difícil de tratar.

Se conoce que a vivido desde la época victoriana, acerca de su modus operandi en ese entonces y algunas vivencias que tuvo en el pasado, pero no habla más allá de su origen o si es que conoce a otro SCP (mencionó muy por encima que sabe de la existencia de SCP-035 por haber vivido ambos por esa época).

Coopera muy poco y es común verlo haciéndose el que sabe más solo para salir con un “Si me liberas, te lo digo” en si: odia estar contenido y es normal verlo intentando atraer a alguien para poder escapar.

-No le agrada ser llamado por el número que le asignaron; aunque igual la Fundación ignora esto.

-Cuando lo atraparon se le fue confiscado un montón de joyería que este llevaba encima.

-Es muy raro verlo perder el temperamento, siempre mantendrá una imagen limpia e impecable.

-Si llegas a insultar su imagen es común que actúe pasivo agresivo contigo.

English:

SCP-1381, or as he calls himself, "Nill", is an humanoid witch particular ability manages to attract anyone within a 5-meter radius, generating curiosity on the person. If the victim falls for this effect, they will fall head over heels in love with SCP-1381 to the point of transforming it into an unhealthy obsession. If SCP-1381 gets bored with the victim, or has already gotten what it wanted from the victim, a simple kiss will suffice to kill his victim (similar to SCP-049's touch).

Anyone who has had contact with Nill and survived (whether separating them from the entity or him letting them live) will feel desperation to return to SCP-1381, after some time in heatstroke, he will return to normal; without being able to experience affection for anyone other than Nill.

People who have seen his face describe him as: "The most beautiful creature in the world." Despite these qualities, Nill is self-centered, selfish, greedy, and manipulative. He will always try to convince you into looking at his face or directly adore him. He has rarely been seen being genuinely friendly with someone, and he is someone quite difficult to deal with.

It's known that he has lived since Victorian times, about his work form at that time and some experiences he had in the past, but he doesn't speak about his origin or if he does know another SCP (he mentioned that he knows of the existence of SCP-035 for having both lived around that time).

He's very uncooperative and it is common to see him pretending to be the smart one just to come out with "If you free me, I'll tell you", in fact: he doesn't like being contained and it's normal to see him from time to time trying to attract someone to escape.

— He don't like being called by the number assigned to; the Foundation ignores this anyway.

— When he got caught, a lot of jewelry he was wearing was confiscated.

— It's very rare to see him lose his temper, he will always maintain a clean and impeccable image.

— If you come to insult his image, it's common for him to act passive aggressive towards you.

Thanks to one of my friends for helping me traducing this 💕

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sleepingdeath-light · 9 months

Text

the power of suggestion ; 18+

requested by ; anonymous (kinktober entry)

word count ; 1381

content ; sexually explicit content, mirror sex, oral sex (fem receiving), piv sex, heavily implied dub con, character death

fandom ; scp foundation

pairing ; scp 953 / polymorphic humanoid x non binary amab reader

read also on ; ao3

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

You shouldn't be here.

You really shouldn't be here.

You didn't even have the clearance needed to get to through the site door, let alone into 953's containment area — hell you couldn't even remember how you got in, just knew that you were here now and there wasn’t any hope of being able to back out. It was stupid and reckless and strictly forbidden by everyone who had even heard of 953, and you'd been briefed on that much a few dozen times by now, and surely you'd be heavily punished if not outright killed by the foundation if they found out you were here (if you survived) — so there really was no turning back.

Though, oddly, the thought of leaving didn't even cross your mind — not even as you knocked out your colleagues and forced your way through door after reinforced door to get to her, nor when you slammed your body against her containment room door in order to force it open when the mechanism stalled. No, instead your thoughts all focused on one singular thing; her. The fox with her nine beautiful tails and the gorgeous woman she could become and how you had to see her, know her, please her.

No matter how hard the small, rational part of your mind — itself just barely clinging to coherence and survival by this point and only just about being heard over the drowning cacophony of lust and need and someone else's words that weren't your own— screamed at you to back away and run the moment you laid eyes on her, you just couldn’t do it. Despite knowing how dangerous she was, knowing how much she despises humans, knowing that whatever she had planned for you couldn’t have been good, knowing that she was classed as keter for good reason.

And yet still, you couldn't stop yourself: stop yourself from wrapping your arms around her long, pale legs and massaging her soft thighs as they rested comfortably atop your shoulders; stop yourself from pressing the flat of your tongue along her wet slit as you licked a thick stripe along it, gathering her slick on the surface as you went and moaning at the flavour; stop yourself from wrapping your lips around her beautifully swollen clit and sucking on it with just enough pressure to have her arching her back; stop yourself from thrusting the length of your tongue into her sweet, tight pussy and groaning at every flutter or tense of her muscles; stop yourself from leaning into her touch and beaming under her praise as you ate her out; stop yourself from enjoying it so much that you could already feel your cock throbbing and aching beneath you as you laid flat on your stomach; stop yourself from chasing her high with more vigour than your own as you felt her thighs tremble and her breathing go from gasping to panting.

But you couldn't stop, not now, and you both knew it — you were too far gone, a lost cause in the truest of senses, and now as she's sent tumbling over the edge of climax you can only hope that your death is quick and painless. That this orgasm, that had her nails digging into your scalp and her legs wrapping tightly around your shoulders, would be enough to make her somewhat more merciful than normal. That this climax, that had her head lolling back so hard that you heard it smack against the floor as her mouth parted in a perfect 'o' and she cried out in two different tongues, could be your salvation. That this high, that had her squirting and gushing all over your face to the extent that even your throat and her inner thighs were drenched in her cum, would soften her heart enough to kill you without any additional suffering.

And soon she was finished, coming down from her high with a contented sigh as she let her legs fall limp on either side of your body and looked down at you with those dangerously dark eyes. Then, she suddenly reached down and grabbed your chin between her thumb and forefinger, forcing you to turn your attention to the mirror you'd forgotten was there (was it normal or a one way mirror? You couldn't recall) and you realised that she wasn't quite done with you yet.

She wanted to draw this out for as long as possible — she wanted to play with her food, and you weren't in any position to deny her.

—————

Within seconds you were forcibly flipped over as 953 straddled your waist, slicing through your pants with startling ease and pulling your aching cock out to trace it along her soaking wet slit. Once. Then twice. And then a third time as you whimpered and groaned and helplessly grasped at her waist — barely able to look at your reflection, and yet unable to look away as she'd stop every time you did. She wanted — no, needed — you to watch as she sunk down onto your dick and took you completely in a single fluid movement; to watch as she made you a pathetic, moaning mess and played with you however she pleased.

But for as much of a mess as you became, you couldn't help but let your eyes stray past your own blown-out pupils and drooling, panting lips to stare at her reflection in the mirror instead. Letting your eyes drift up from the point where her pretty cunt was swallowing your cock and soaking the smattering of hair around its base, along the smooth expanse of her skin to her ample chest — watching as it arched, and rose and fell with every breath, unable to stop yourself from reaching upwards to play with it (to grope, to weigh, to pinch, roll and tease). Misty eyes flitting in triangular motions between her full pussy, her swishing red tail and her face — half obscured by messy tendrils of black hair, but you were still able to single out her soft lips as they twitched upwards into a mirthful grin and her gleaming yellow eyes that glared down at you with something more than just pure malice.

Hunger? Hatred, perhaps? Either way you knew you wouldn't make it out alive, so you resigned yourself to your fate — watching your reflection keenly as you felt yourself nearing climax.

Allowing your eyes to linger on your face: lips parted into a shaky 'o', eyes half lidded and so heavy you could barely keep them open, brows slightly furrowed with intent as you tried to will yourself to keep on watching.

Unable to stop your gaze from drifting again to watch as she swallowed and soaked every inch of your length, submitting yourself to the moment entirely as you finally let your hands fall down to her waist and started to fuck upwards into her tight cunt. Pace clumsy and jerky but more than enough to sate you and your heavy eyes and your clenching muscles and your throbbing cock.

The feelings and sounds and sights all so completely and utterly overwhelming that you found yourself climaxing soon after — pushed over the edge with a guttural groan and the clenching of her wet pussy around you as she fell over the edge once again. Climaxing so hard that your eyes clamped shut and your vision was overrun with splotches and smears and explosions of bright white light. Climaxing so hard that your hands clamped down on her sides and somehow managed to keep her still as you filled her to the brim with your cum. Climaxing so hard that your skin burned and your heart pounded so loudly that you weren't able to hear anything beyond its arrhythmic thumping in your ears. Climaxing so hard that your mind went blank beyond the foggy repetitions of her moans and whimpers — beyond the crashing waves of pleasure that wracked through your body over and over and over again.

Climaxing so hard that you didn't even recognise the sharp pain of her digging her claws into your abdomen and tearing your stomach apart — too caught up in your high to even realise that you were dying.

Not that you could have done anything anyway; you'd been hers since the moment you entered her room.

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