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wolveria · 9 months ago

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The Anomaly Archives - Reality #007

AU of The Raven's Hymn

Pairing: SCP-1233 x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Possible dubcon, vaginal fingering, moon shenanigans

AO3

A thump landed directly beyond you, so forceful it propelled you forward a few feet, and you landed ungracefully on your side.

Coughing and rolling onto your back, you stared up the suit—or rather, the entity which appeared to be a suit—towering over you like a figment out of the space age. The EMU-type spacesuit was even larger in person, and the SCP took a step toward you, forcing you to scramble backwards to not be stepped on.

“Greetings, old man!” he loudly proclaimed, his voice booming off the pine trees. Several birds were startled from sleep, taking flight into the star-filled sky. “I am Moon Champion, Champion of the Moon, defender of space justice and—”

He peered down at you, cocking his helmet slightly.

“Have you been damaged?”

You winced and shook your head. It was difficult to remember that this SCP had never intentionally harmed anyone before, even if his appearance often caused collateral damage of an impressive proportion.

“I’m fine,” you said, carefully getting to your feet and brushing off the seat of your jeans. “Sorry, you were talking about... defending space, or something?”

“Ah, yes!” He straightened his shoulders and pointed a finger upwards in a vague direction. The sky, probably, though it only looked like it was pointing into the treetops. “I seek aid for my people amongst the fleshy ground dwellers of your world, for I am told you have many resources comprised of confectioneries and custard. I assume you are the President of this planet, and you have come to greet me and pledge your unwavering fealty to the cause of slaying every Moon Monster until they are wiped from the face of the Moon!”

Christ, did the guy even breathe?... All right, considering he flew through space, probably not.

From what the Foundation had gathered, this was generally how SCP-1233’s exploits went. He rocketed to the ground and hit with meteoric impact, proceeded to the nearest small town, and attempted to recruit humans for his... moon wars.

And here you were, the unlucky level 2 assistant researcher who had found him first. You weren’t normally cleared for field work, but the SCP had landed not far from Site-20, and you’d been rushed into a van and ordered to change into civilian hiking gear. It certainly blended in better than your typical lab coat and slacks.

You had to navigate this carefully. SCP-1233’s last visit to Earth on October 5th, 2017, had ended in disaster. Landing near Hereford, England, the entity had stumbled onto the one unfortunate person who had sarcastically agreed to aid him to fight moon monsters. The entity had grabbed the man and launched into the atmosphere at a lethal velocity.

The body was never recovered.

“Uh.” You fidgeted with the hem of your plaid button-up. “I am the President, yes.”

Now you were locked in. You couldn’t call for backup, because 1233 wouldn’t want to talk to anyone else unless he was sure you wouldn’t help him. And there was no guarantee you could turn his attention onto another agent without an innocent bystander getting involved. The Foundation would suppress media and official channels to keep them away from the landing site, but there was no guarantee a few curious hikers or townsfolk wouldn’t slip through.

The helmet once again went at a tilt. An uncomfortable length of silence followed.

“No. You’re not.”

Shit. SCP-1233 had never called out anyone for lying to him before. He’d always believed everyone he met with a naiveté bordering on gullible. Shit, shit.

He took a step, then another, and you mirrored his movements until you were backed up into a tree, the wide trunk barring a quick escape.

It really was hard to tell how large those EMU suits were until one was looming over you from inches away.

This is it. I’m going to be 1233’s first murder victim, and they’re going to find what’s left of my corpse sprayed all over the trees—

The suit stepped back, put his hands on his hips, and laughed.

You stared.

“Apologies, I did not recognize you at first!” He lowered his hands and then proceeded to rest one on his stomach, as if amused by the spectacle. “Please, you must forgive me. I have never met one of your kind before, though I have heard tales of the prowess of the Earth Guardians.”

You swallowed. A point of tension started between your brows that was certain to turn into a headache soon.

“You mean... the Foundation?”

All he had was a smooth helmet shield, but somehow, he managed to give the impression of frowning.

“Nonsense. You are an Earth Guardian, Guardian of the Earth! Much as I protect my people, you protect yours—Oh!” He leaned closer, as if sharing a secret. “Is this ‘Foundation’ of yours a code name? A sharp little moniker? That’s quite clever. You can never be too careful; I am sure you have no shortage of enemies on your world.”

“Uh-huh...”

He straightened upright, and then did something even more alarming. He dropped to one knee and held out his hand in a supplicating gesture.

“Allow me the honor of bestowing a kiss to your personage, Earth Guardian.”

“My... personage?”

A kiss?

“Yes, yes, your—” He indicated with his hand, and then you realized, no, he was referring to his hand by flopping it around.

You eyed his reflective visor, recalling tales of all the various foods and drinks that had been smashed into the round surface.

“All right,” you said with strained acceptance, “be gentle.”

Extending your hand, you held the other to your chest, preparing for him to propel your hand at his face with a speed that would break every bone.

But instead, he said, “Of course,” and took your fingers with surprising gentleness. He pressed the back of your hand against the smooth glass, the surface pleasantly warm. Alive.

“Oh.”

The word left him with a hint of surprise, or perhaps awe. You never found out which.

He was on his feet, and then you were against the tree, the bulk of his suit dwarfing you and blocking all chance of escape.

Your heart leapt in your chest, and you barely remained on your feet, terror seizing you in its grip as you struggled to think. This wasn’t right. Something was wrong with the SCP; he was acting outside normal parameters—

“I see,” he said softly, his large, gloved hand stroking your hair. “They did not prepare me for this.”

“Wh-what?”

His other gloved hand explored your side, resting on your hip and covering most of it.

“To encounter one such as you.”

Confusion eclipsed some of your fear. What was he talking about? 1233 was making even less sense than what the reports had stated. Aside from the man in Hereford, you couldn’t recall if he’d touched anyone, and as soon as he had, his demeanor had immediately pivoted—

Your shirt was lifted, exposing your bare stomach and chest to the chilly night air.

“Hey! What the fuck—”

A gloved hand went over your mouth, stifling your indignation. His other explored up your stomach, padded fingers tracing up your sensitive skin, and he palmed your breasts through your bra. The motions were curious rather than cruel, but you still struggled against his hold. He was impossible to move and didn’t seem to notice your efforts.

“Shhh,” he gently hushed you. The pads of his gloved fingers were soft, comfortable and warm, and with a single stroke of them your nipples tightened.

It shouldn’t have been possible. 1233 hadn’t shown any kind of interest in humans beyond recruitment, and the occasional attempt to buy puppies, but this was bizarre. You might have been more afraid if you weren’t so disoriented. Without meaning to, you relaxed in his grip, your skin growing hot as he continued to touch you, almost massage you.

“There.” The voice from the helmet intercom was soothing, and there was something else underneath. Interest. “I would never harm you.”

The entity let go of your breast, gave a thoughtful hum, and reached for your jeans. He popped open the top button and slid down the zipper before you could try to bat him away. It didn’t do any good. It was like trying to slap away a steel girder, and your muffled shouts under his hand grew more urgent.

“Yes, yes, I know, I’m eager too.”

No, you idiot! you tried to shout, but it came out as more frantic noises.

“But I must take my time, you are too delicate. Too soft and… and easily torn to pieces. I won’t do that, no, not again.”

1233 pulled the borrowed jeans down your thighs, taking the underwear along with it. You still weren’t as afraid as you should be, some part of you understood that the anomaly wasn’t trying to hurt or scare you, but frustration and embarrassment still pricked at the corners of your eyes. They burned hotter when the entity squeezed his gloved fingers between your clenched thighs, and you groaned when he pressed against your clit.

You tried to push his arm away, but it was as successful as the other times. He didn’t seem to notice as he explored the space between your legs, alternating between prodding against your entrance and teasing your clit.

It was… nice, really nice, and he was so gentle. It was still bizarre and strange and not at all sanitary—who knew what kind of anomalous pathogens you were being exposed to—but… you couldn’t remember anyone touching you like this before.

Closing your eyes, you relaxed despite the warning bells still ringing loudly in your skull. Your thighs loosened around his hand and your lips parted, jaw going slack. Pressure was slowly building in your gut, and you started to care less and less that you were exposed in the middle of the forest.

The anomaly gave another hum, this one with a tinge of heat as he sensed the change in your rigid stance. One finger pushed into your mouth, the strange soft digit warm against your tongue. You closed your lips around him and sucked without thinking, and he groaned, the intercom crackling.

His other finger explored your slick cunt, but his impatience was clear as he pushed against your entrance. The glove made the finger thicker, or maybe the glove was his finger, but you were slick enough now that he pushed inside without pain. When he tried to push in two, you tensed and whined. It was supposed to be in protest, but it came out as a pitiful plea.

SCP-1233 removed his fingers from your mouth and between your legs. The shock of emptiness left you out of breath and unable to speak. You felt like a mess and probably looked like it too, drool on your chin and slick on your thighs.

You made some kind of small, disjointed nose when 1233 bent down and grabbed one of your feet, and then the other, pulling off your boots with lackluster coordination, but at least he didn’t rip anything. He tugged off your jeans next, and while he was bent over, picked you up and braced you over one shoulder.

It wasn’t the most comfortable thing, and you craned your neck to avoid headbutting the life support system on his back.

“What... are you doing?” you wheezed, the cusp of his shoulder pad digging into your stomach.

“Just a moment, starlight.”

The pet name caught you by surprise, and then gravity shifted beneath you as 1233 pulled you down, holding you by the ass in front of his torso. You yelped and held on as he tipped backwards. You thought you were both going to fall, but he simply laid down on a patch of pine needles as if landing right on his pack didn’t hurt.

Your landing was much softer, and you braced your hands against the panel on his chest so you wouldn’t smack into it. You faintly remembered from your rushed briefing that it was called a Display and Control Module, though it was doubtful it actually was one.

“Is this better?” Some of his jovial tone returned, though that strange, intense curiosity was still there.

“No!” you squeaked, some of your dignity and common sense returning. “None of this makes sense! None of it is—”

1233 slipped his fingers under your hips and pressed his index lengthwise against your clit. And then he grabbed you by the hip with his other hand and moved your body, forcing you to grind against his hand.

Your reservations fled without even an embarrassed goodbye. All you could focus on was the soft heat radiating from his gloves, and within seconds you were moving your hips on your own, chasing your pleasure with shaky movements and a burning face.

You really, really hoped none of your coworkers found you. Amnestics would be the best you could hope for if you were caught like this, literally rubbing off on an SCP you were supposed to temporarily contain.

You had, in a way. Or more accurately, he had contained you.

“Mmm, you are good,” he crooned. “Very good. My starlight.”

You flushed at the name and the praise, throbbing at the attention. Perhaps he sensed it, because he lifted your hips up just far enough to push one finger inside you. It felt even better from this position, and when he tried to work a second in you, you didn’t balk.

You braced your hands against the control module and lifted yourself up, and then slid down on both fingers. The stretch was almost unbearable, but you took it eagerly, clenching around him as if you could take more.

The noise he made was something almost like a purr.

“Perhaps next time, you can take more of me.”

You whined at the promise of it.

The entity curled his fingers with one hand and guided your movements with the other, helping you ride him at a growing pace. His digits were so wide they stretched and pressed against places you normally couldn’t reach, and maybe it had been a long time for you, but it felt better than any other time you could remember.

1233 made another dark noise of satisfaction as he rubbed his thumb against your clit. You spasmed as heat flashed up your spine, and you continued to grind against him until the pressure in your gut snapped.

You cried out, bracing against his chest as you rode out your orgasm, your walls clamping around his thick digits.

1233 gave a sound that was definitely not human, his fingers digging into your hip almost hard enough to ache. And then he let you go, petting up your side as he gently pulled out of you.

Losing the strength in your arms, you laid down on his chest, shifting a little so the module wasn’t as uncomfortable.

“Wonderful,” he praised, stroking your back, apparently not minding the sweat that beaded it. “You are wonderful.”

You hid your face in the stiff white material of his suit. He sounded a little bit like his normal gregarious self, though there was a warmth there that was new.

“I’m not sure what happened, but... thank you.”

“Hmm. Yes, I suppose your kind do it differently.”

“What?” You closed your eyes, actually finding the spacesuit comfortable from this position. “Sex?”

He gave a boisterous laugh.

“No! Don’t be silly.”

You opened your eyes and frowned.

“What—”

“Come, it’s time we be off.”

Before you could tell him to wait a damn minute, he lifted you up in one smooth motion and put you on the ground. You tried to cover your nakedness with the hem of your shirt, your socks not adding much protection to your feet.

“Uh, to where? I don’t think—we really shouldn’t be leaving—”

“Of course, we have to go! My people need us.”

He picked up one of your shoes, examined it, and then tossed it over his shoulder. You made a defeated noise as it was lost in the darkness. Thankfully, when he located your jeans and underwear, he handed them to you. The gesture was almost sweet, but it wasn’t much comfort to the growing alarm in your head.

You struggled for excuses as you tugged on your rumpled clothes.

“But I won’t survive in space. I... don’t have a suit.”

He gave a chuckle, as if your concerns about dying in a vacuum or being burnt up in the atmosphere were overblown.

“You let me worry about that.”

He stood over you once you were dressed, placing a warm hand on the back of your neck. The weight did a funny thing to you, made you feel as if your legs would buckle at any moment.

“Do not fret, I will return you to your home once the beasts have been vanquished. After all, I would not take you away from your own obligations, Moon Wife.”

“I—wait, I’m sorry, what—”

“The faster we leave, the faster we will return!”

1233 scooped you up, this time holding you in his arms rather than over his shoulder. It was warm and comfortable, but when the forest began to light up around you as a rumbling noise came from his back, you realized what it meant.

“SCP-1233, don’t! You can’t!”

His tone was warm, fond even.

“What a sweet nickname you’ve picked for me. Do not worry, I told you I wouldn’t make the same mistake! Not after that poor, poor fellow that disintegrated in my hands. Rest easy, my brave little moon sailor.”

The rockets on his pack ignited, burning the pine needles beneath his feet to cinder, and you both flew upwards at a rate that made your stomach clench. You closed your eyes tight, waiting to have every bone in your body broken as your insides turned to mush as he approached escape velocity.

But all that happened was the wind tousled your hair and it grew a bit colder. Even the roar of the… rockets?... sounded somewhat muffled.

“You can open your eyes, starlight. I guarantee this is a view you will not want to miss.”

When you dared to look, your eyes went wide, taking in the receding earth below you. But more importantly, the rounded dome above you, spattered with stars and becoming clearer by the second as you left the lower atmosphere’s light pollution.

Higher and higher you went, the land becoming more akin to a map rather than something that felt real, and in the distance, you could see mountains and valleys and the edge of the ocean bathed in moonlight.

Sparks flickered around you and then ignited into a solid flame, but it didn’t touch you or the SCP, giving you a small protective sphere that was covered in fire.

“I regret the... error on my part regarding the last meatfellow. I had not anticipated how fragile your bulbous organs would be.”

The regret in his voice was real. Perhaps it was that, or maybe it was the stunning view that greeted you once you moved past the last barrier of atmosphere. The Earth curved below your feet like the most beautiful marble, painted and textured with fluffy white clouds and blue waters on one half. The other held glittering jewels in the dark, a testament that mankind did not stop dreaming with the absence of the sun.

Whatever it was, your heart squeezed, and you braced your forehead against the curve of his visor. Each breath you took fogged a small portion of the glass. That little detail cemented in your mind that this was real, and not just a fever dream that was the result of your insane job.

1233 hummed happily and cradled you closer.

“If you find this view delightful, you shall be very pleased to see my home. The Moon Kingdom is not what it once was, but once the beasts are banished, I am sure we can return it to its former splendor.”

You looked up toward your destination, somehow not surprised to see the moon closer. It normally took the SCP nine hours to reach it after visiting Earth, but perhaps he was accelerating to get you there faster. It was hard to deny you were curious where he came from. You would be the first at the Foundation to find out.

You wondered what would happen when your coworkers found your boots, if there would be urban legends of what happened to their owner. With how slowly 1233 had left the atmosphere, it was very likely ARGOS caught your departure. You could only imagine what they would say, and none of it would be as strange as the truth.

Drifting in and out of sleep, it was hard to stay awake in your exhaustion and how comfortable 1233’s arms were. He was quiet, perhaps understanding that “meatfellows” had limited stamina, and you hoped he remembered that humans had to eat and drink occasionally.

“Are we really married?”

Your question drew him out of his silence. He chuckled.

“Of course. What did you think we were doing?”

Honestly, you still weren’t sure.

Not long after, 1233 stirred you from your slumber. The moon was large and bright before you, and the anomaly orbited the satellite, passing into the dark zone. You waited to see where this mysterious kingdom was located, but there was nothing aside from empty craters and dark valleys.

“Hold on to me, starlight.”

Deciding to take his advice, you looped your arms around the circumference of his helmet. He turned toward the dark side of the moon, pitch black without the reflection of the sun, and he rocketed towards it.

You screamed as the black void raced toward you, and then it broke apart into rings of jagged light. You passed through several layers of it, like some kind of hole or portal, and you emerged on the other side. A planet lay before you, seeming to be comprised of actual gems and jewels. It glittered crystalline white with oceans of pink and silver, the ice caps a solid gold.

The inky blackness of space was replaced by pastel swirls and distant glittering stars.

“Oh,” you breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Though I am not one of the Moon People, it is my home, and... yours as well, if you wish it.”

You didn’t respond as you leaned your head against his shoulder, but you did smile, and the Moon Champion carried you down to the world that glittered like diamonds.

#scp 1233 x reader #scp 1233 #moon champion x reader #scp #scp foundation #wolveria writes

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wolveria · 6 months ago

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The Anomaly Archives - Reality #007-2

AU of The Raven's Hymn

Pairing: SCP-1233 x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Smut, non-human anatomy, moon shenanigans

AO3

It was strange to be back in your room. The bed was in the right place, the lights were all the same brightness, but it was all somehow unfamiliar. The pieces of furniture didn’t fit the space, or maybe you no longer recognized the shape of it.

Everything had felt like this since you woke up in the forest, your clothes wrinkled as if you hadn’t worn them in a long time. The MTF soldiers found you within minutes, and you were rushed back to Site-20 to undergo quarantine, psychological evaluation, and observation.

You didn’t have anything to tell them, and quite a lot you didn’t want to. You remembered leaving Earth, of glimpsing the glittering lunar kingdom.

And of course, you remembered SCP-1233. You tried not to think about what you did with him; not because you were ashamed, but because whenever you thought of him, a sharp ache pierced the middle of your chest. You didn’t know what it was, but it felt like loss. And that scared you.

But beyond that, you remembered nothing. You didn’t know what happened after you arrived at the Moon Kingdom, nor how you returned back to Earth, or anything in-between. You were eventually cleared from quarantine, apparently at the peak of health. In fact, you had a healthy glow to your skin and new gloss to your hair. It didn’t at all match your insides, hollow and empty.

You continued on with work, not having any choice, and it was a nice distraction. You had to go in for weekly post-anomaly exposure examinations, but they found nothing wrong. Nothing to explain the unexplainable malaise.

And then, the marks appeared. Faint and obscure at first, on the inside of your arms, and then your calves and thighs, and sometimes on your stomach or chest. Always under your clothes, and as soon as you touched them, they faded away.

So, you stopped touching them. After a full day of not paying them any attention, you ended your shift, went into your private ensuite bathroom, and stripped. Etched across your arms, legs, and torso, read the same string of glowing, white numbers.

Three sets of numbers slightly spaced apart. Latitude, longitude, and altitude, if you had to guess. You touched the writing so it faded away, and told no one. The ache in your chest grew worse.

It took time to make arrangements with one of the site cartographers. Kenneth seemed to know everyone at the facility and had some surprising connections that weren’t entirely aboveboard. He was eager to help when you asked, perhaps worried about your dull-eyed stare during your shared observation duties.

“Are you sure?” the cartographer asked, her name Hana according to her lanyard ID badge. You stood outside the cartography lab where all location-based anomalies were analyzed.

“I am.” And you were. It had been a long time since you were this sure about something. “Are you? SCP-348 doesn’t always leave a message, or a happy one.”

“I know, I’m okay with that. Is it… Can I use it?”

“You’re approved and on the list,” you said. “The next time you have a headache or aren’t feeling well, it’ll be ready for you.”

Genuine relief and gratitude marked her features. You tried not to shift in discomfort. It wasn’t as if exchanging favors was strictly against the rules, and you were allowed to conduct tests of SCP-348 on willing Foundation staff, it was just… extremely dubious to anyone on the outside. Especially since you asked the cartographer to step outside the room while you used her database, and after you were done, she would completely delete your search logs.

Oh, well. At least your new level 3 clearance was being used to make someone happy.

With a nod, Hana opened the door for you, and you went inside.

The coordinates were roughly ten miles from where SCP-1233 had taken you, and where he, presumably, had returned you. Once you had the location locked into your mind, the numbers stopped appearing on your skin. A sense of urgency fueled you, anxious now that the numbers were gone, as if the location itself would suddenly be unreachable.

But there was another problem. You might know the location of the coordinates, but you had no way to get there intact. Leaving Site-20 was technically possible. You could take a mental leave, but the cost was so high, most people waited until retirement before they left.

You had no choice. All you could hope was that when the amnestics took effect, the writing would reappear and lead you in the right direction. Considering the altitude was at ground level, you would be able to find the longitude and latitude on any conventional map, and you knew your curiosity would lead you there even if you had no memory. That’s how it had worked this time, anyway.

Your leave approved, you were led into one of the medical labs, ordered to lay down, and take the pills that would remove the knowledge of all your projects, the SCPs, and even your coworkers. There wasn’t anyone you were really leaving behind, but you would miss Kenneth, and you felt a pang when you thought of SCP-049. You hadn’t gotten the chance to be a part of his observation detail yet, and it was one of the few regrets you had.

Supposedly, when you returned, you would start at the bottom and have to work your way up again. You weren’t concerned. You had no intention of returning.

Your thoughts had wandered again, and the technician startled you when he asked you to say your name. You did, and when he asked if you remembered what you did for the Foundation, you realized something was very wrong. The amnestics should have taken effect, but you remembered everything.

“No,” you said, letting your confusion sell the lie. “I… don’t.”

“Class B amnestics absorbed successfully. Memory deconsolidation of Foundation affiliation complete.”

You simply stared at him, which seemed to be the appropriate response of a newly made amnesiac. After that, you were led to another section of the Site where you were given your old clothes and all the objects you’d first handed over when you started at the Foundation. You stared at your phone, obsolete by several years, the battery completely drained. You threw it in the trash.

You were driven to the nearby town and dropped off with nothing more than a day bag and a debit card. You assumed the card led to a bank account with all of your job earnings, mostly unspent. At least you wouldn’t be hard up for money.

After finding the closest ATM and extracting all the cash you could, you bought a used clunker, loaded up on snacks and fast food, and bought a detailed map of the area. You also bought new clothes and a new bag, throwing out everything they’d handed to you. Without leaving an electronic or paper trail behind, you were hoping to keep the Foundation off your heels for as long as possible. Even when you left the Foundation, you didn’t truly leave it.

The used Jeep you’d bought got you up the gravel and dirt backroads without a problem. Technically in a state park, you didn’t think there was any camping allowed, but you were so deep in rugged terrain it was unlikely a ranger would stumble on you.

You arrived at the coordinates around midday, an open meadow that crested over a valley, giving a perfect view for miles around. There was nothing but craggy mountains and pine trees in any given direction.

After parking in the shade, you folded down the backseats, got out the blankets and pillows you bought, and rolled down the windows. It was early enough in the spring that you wouldn’t overheat, and you were tired. If something had waited this long for you to show up, it could wait for you to wake up from your nap.

When next you opened your eyes, the inside of the Jeep was pitch black. Startled, you sat up, and realized it was only that dark inside the vehicle. Once you got out, the world around you was bathed in the light of the stars enough to see by. This far out from any major cities, there was no light pollution to obscure the sky, and the elevation made the view even clearer.

Clear enough to see there was something in the middle of the meadow. It was large, almost formless where it stood on the crest of the hill with a backdrop of stars. When you squinted, you thought you could make out its pale color, glowing with the reflection of the moon that had begun to rise over the horizon.

Then the shape bounded forward. You leapt backward, your back hitting the side of your Jeep.

“Starlight!”

You were swept off your feet as large arms picked you up and squeezed hard enough to make you wheeze. You were set back on your feet, though the arms didn’t leave you completely, and you could feel SCP-1233’s booming laugh vibrate through his torso.

“You are here! You’re actually here!”

“What?” you asked, still in a daze. “It’s… you.”

The night was bright enough that you could see him quite well at close range, and his helmet went at a slight angle.

“Yes, it is I, your husband. You… you do remember, don’t you? Or have you forgotten that too?”

Oh, God, you did remember that. Apparently, for whatever kind of species 1233 was, third base counted as getting married.

“Wait,” you said, rubbing your forehead. “What do you mean, forgotten that too?”

“Ah.” He released you and actually wrung his hands. “Please, do not be angry with me.”

“Angry about what? What happened after we left Earth? Why can’t I remember anything?”

“Oh, dear, you are angry.” If you hadn’t been so annoyed, you might have felt bad about his guilty, timid demeanor. “Please, let me explain.”

“All right,” you said. Perhaps you did feel bad, a little. “I’m listening.”

You expected 1233 to go into a longwinded tale of woe, strife, and adventure, but instead, he simply stood there, twisting his massive, gloved hands as he shifted on his feet. There was no face behind his helmet shield that you could see, but you didn’t need an expression to know he was anxious.

“How about we start with those coordinates on my skin,” you began more gently. “Was that you?”

He immediately perked up.

“You got my message! Of course you did, you’re here. I knew you would understand, you’re very clever. My clever wife.”

“I—okay,” you sputtered, trying to regain your balance. “So you… you sent me messages. How?”

“The technology of the Moon People is a curious thing. I do not understand its machinations.”

“They did this to me?”

“Indeed.”

“Why?”

“You asked them to.”

“I what?”

1233 retreated a step, his hands held up as if staving off an impending attack.

“As a means of emergency communication! It will not harm you. I would never let anything harm you, my little starlight.”

You rubbed your forehead again. Every time he called you some kind of pet name, your cheeks burned like coals. It was frustrating.

“Emergency communication?” You frowned. “Is something wrong?”

He twisted his fingers together again.

“No, no. Nothing is… wrong.”

“Then why the messages?”

His voice came out small, something you didn’t think was possible.

“I missed you.”

The breath left you, your stomach squirming in a funny way.

“And that’s… an emergency?”

“I missed you a lot.”

You laughed. It came out of you, startled and unexpected, and the act itself released the tension you were holding. 1233 perked up his head, and he no longer hunched like a puppy expecting to be scolded for chewing a favorite pair of shoes.

“I missed you too.”

He stood even straighter, and wow, you’d forgotten how big he was.

“You did?”

“Yes. I’m… surprised how much. I…”

When you failed to articulate exactly what you felt, how deep the emptiness ran, you acted instead. Closing the gap between you, you wrapped your arms around his chest and hugged him tight, marveling at how warm and alive he felt.

A gloved hand found your head, and 1233 gently pet your hair, his other arm secure across your back.

“Why did you leave me here?” you said, so quiet it was almost a whisper. “Where did you go?”

Your missing memory should have been your biggest concern, but it was dwarfed by the empty ache that had engulfed you for weeks.

“Why do I feel this way? What’s wrong with me?”

“Not a thing,” he crooned, his hand now stroking down your back. “You are perfect. I would have never left your side, but it is what you asked of me.”

“Why?” You looked up at him, having to crane your neck just to look at his helmet. “What happened after we left?”

“The Great Moon War. We fought fiercely and with courage, and it is a tale of the ages. The Moon People will exalt us for generations to come, as their extermination was thwarted at our hands. But no war lasts forever, and once we vanquished our foes, you asked to return to your planet. I… obeyed. You are an Earth Guardian, and you cannot guard the Earth if you are not on the Earth.”

“And my memory?”

“Partitioned and removed, at your request.”

“I asked for this?”

“You did not trust that your Foundation wouldn’t use the knowledge to one day harm the Moon People.”

You sighed and leaned your head against the soft, fluffy material of his suit. It made sense. It all made sense, and yet…

“Ever since I woke up, something has been… wrong. I feel wrong. Like I’m…”

“Mourning the loss of that which gives your life meaning and joy?”

“…How did you know?”

1233 didn’t respond immediately. Your chest squeezed.

“Moon Champion?”

He gave a faint chuckle, though there was something sad about it.

“You have not called me that in a long time.”

“A long time? They said I was only gone for a couple of days.”

“There is a temporal difference between the Earth realm and the Moon Kingdom.”

Your throat tightened, and you nearly choked on the words.

“How long?”

He gently rubbed your back, as if to soothe away your fear.

“Long enough that I cannot continue without you by my side. Your absence is a wound to my soul, cursed to bleed unless you are there to staunch the flow.”

You made a small, exasperated noise, but despite his overdramatic prose, the same twin ache echoed inside you. A loss so profound you had felt it even when you had no memory of what was taken from you.

A word bubbled up from within, and you spoke it before you knew what it was.

“…Moonie.”

He went rigid, and then held you at arm’s length to stare down at you.

“What?” you asked.

“You remember?”

Gradually, you shook your head, and he deflated a little.

“That was what you called me. When we were… When it was private.”

You could hear what he wasn’t saying, and you could hear it in the way he’d called you wife. It was with a fondness and affection that came with knowing and loving someone for years.

And you’d given all of that up just to return to Earth. 1233 hadn’t deserted you here. You’d abandoned him, left him with nothing but memories of someone who’d forgotten him. Marriage to a ghost.

“I’m sorry,” you said, quick and urgent. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have—”

He pulled you in, enveloping you in his swallowing embrace, and you gripped him tight in return. The urgency became desperation, and you feared he would disappear from your arms, nothing more than a dream.

“Do not be distressed,” he said, sounding distressed himself. “I am to blame. My selfish need to see you again has caused you harm. I cannot ask for forgiveness—”

“I forgive you. I would forgive you for anything. I just… I can’t…”

You held him closer, pressing your face against the suit, unable to stand the enormity that swelled within you.

“Please, don’t leave me here, alone. I can’t do it, not again—”

1233 hefted you into his arms, bearing your weight with ease, and he carried you back up the crest of the meadow. You wondered if he would rocket off to space right there, but instead he knelt, gently depositing you onto the soft grass.

“I would like to… May I…”

He didn’t finish the question, but you got the gist of what he was saying. Even if you hadn’t, there wasn’t much that would have stopped you from stripping off your clothes. Jacket, shoes, pants and top, you tossed them uncaring into the grass. You unclipped your bra and reached for your underwear next, but he stopped you with a touch.

“Allow me,” he said, surprisingly shy. “I… like to do this part.”

You moved your hands away and sat back. Already, your body tingled with anticipation. If you’d been together for years, then he knew what you responded to, what you liked, but for you it would be brand new.

Another thrill traveled down your nerves, and when his gloved hands gently tugged off your underwear, you realized they were soaking wet. He gave a pleased hum, and your face went hot as he spread your legs further, putting you on display. He dragged a gloved finger down your cunt, and then he pressed inside. His finger was just as big as you remember, stretching you full.

You couldn’t imagine taking his cock, if he even had a cock. 1233 had teased that perhaps you could take “more” of him after your first encounter, but you had no idea what that meant.

He took your stillness as discomfort, or something worse, and he withdrew his hand. The loss of him within you, the emptiness inside, was too much. 1233 still knelt on the ground, so you climbed into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders so you wouldn’t fall. He easily caught you in his arms anyway, a low groan deep in his throat.

“I will need to prepare you first. I am too much for you to take without it.”

You were already shaking your head.

“I’ll be fine. Please. I need… I just need you.”

His hesitation kept him frozen, and you couldn’t help it; you rolled your hips, grinding into his lap, his suit smeared with your juices. He groaned again, and that’s when you felt it. Something flexible, warm, and slippery rubbed against your cunt. You didn’t know if he could aim it, or if it simply sensed your warmth, because it slid across your clit with purposeful intent.

You jerked upright with a cry, and it used your new position to prod against your entrance and push inside.

1233 groaned and pushed his hips upwards, and the tapered head of the tentacle-like cock quickly thickened, and it continued to grow wider, stretching you so full you could barely breathe.

“I… apologize,” he spoke in a strained voice. “I cannot… always control it.”

You moaned into the fabric of his shoulder, your thighs hooked around his waist as you allowed more weight to settle on his lap. You understood now why he wanted to prep you, but the pleasurable burn was so good, you were honestly a little disappointed in your past self for not being more adventurous.

“It’s okay.” You tried to grind against his cock, but you were thoroughly impaled on it, unable to move very far on your own. “You feel incredible.”

The next sound that came out of him was more like a growl, and his large hands went around your hips, and before you could anticipate what he was going to do, he lifted you up and then slammed you down onto his cock.

You gave a close-mouthed, muffled scream, and he immediately froze.

“Did I hurt you?! I knew I shouldn’t have—”

“Again.”

“…What?”

“Do… that again,” you panted. “More of… that.”

“Oh.”

After one long agonizing moment, he did it again, though gentler this time. 1233 pulled you up and down his cock, as if you were nothing more than a sex toy used for his pleasure.

You simply held on, letting him do whatever he wanted, your brain too cockdumb and foggy to care as long as he continued to fuck you just like that. The pleasure continued to build, and without warning it crested, slamming into you like a wave.

Crying out, you throbbed on his cock, and 1233 groaned as he throbbed. He wasn’t there yet, but he was close.

“Moonie.”

He shuddered, pulled you down to take his cock as far as you could, and burst inside you. You held on tight as you rode out your own high, and he continued to come inside you for what was definitely too long for a human. When he finally pulled out, his come leaked out in copious amounts, and it felt thicker than was normal.

Curious, you scooped some of it up and held it close enough to see it, but it was still too dark—

A blinding light flashed in your face, and you shielded your eyes against the bright exterior lights of 1233’s helmet.

“It appears we made quite the mess,” he said with an unapologetic chuckle.

“We did.”

On closer inspection, the come coating your fingers was transparent but shimmered as if coated in some kind of oil. It reflected a rainbow of colors when the light hit it just right.

“Pretty.”

He chuckled again.

“That is what you said the first time. You had an unusual interest in my anatomy before, I assumed you would be curious again.”

“Mmm.”

You eyed his crotch, but whatever prehensile cock he had was hidden well. Aside from the gooey mess in his lap, you would have assumed his pants were simply that, and not an actual part of his body.

You popped your finger into your mouth without warning. He tasted mild and faintly sweet. You liked it. Hopefully, it wouldn’t poison you.

After licking your finger clean, you looked up at him and smiled. He sighed.

“You are incorrigible. In that way, you have not changed.”

“Good. Wait here.”

Without bothering to dress, you retrieved your blankets from the Jeep and laid them out on the ground.

“I’m coming with you, wherever you’re going, but I want to stargaze with you first,” you said by way of explanation. “I don’t know when I’ll see these constellations again.”

1233 hummed thoughtfully, and then turned off his external light. Taking that as a sign he would join you, you laid down on your back, and as soon as he joined you, he half pulled you onto his chest. You laughed and let him rearrange you how he wanted before you settled down in a more comfortable position. You could fall asleep like this, but you turned your head to watch the stars. The green and blue of distant galaxies mixed in with the stars of white, yellow, and red. It really was a gorgeous view.

“You are sure of this? Leaving with me?”

“Most definitely.”

He hummed happily, and you shivered as a gloved finger traced up the naked skin of your hip.

“You are not concerned about your Foundation interfering? They may come looking for you.”

You thought about the amnestics no longer working. Maybe it was a side effect of whatever the Moon People had done to your mind.

“I don’t think we need to worry about them.”

Even if they did manage to capture you, anyone who got in 1233’s way tended to end up a pulpy mess, and that’s when it happened by accident. You couldn’t imagine him genuinely angry, and you hoped wherever they imprisoned you, it wasn’t Site-20.

After several moments of quiet had passed, you asked, “Can you make other things appear on my skin?”

“Of course. The Moon People incorporated the technology into my suit, it would be a simple affair.”

“So, you can create images?”

“I imagine so. But you may have to describe it for me.”

“Little stars,” you said, lifting your head so you could look down into his helmet. It reflected the starlight above. “Constellations of the Milky Way. I want them to appear on my skin after a few days, as a reminder.”

“A reminder?”

“That it’s been too long since you touched me.”

1233 made a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a groan, and he pressed your body against his.

“Anything you desire, my starlight.”

You settled partially on top of him, your eyelids fluttering as his gloved hand stroked along your back. Past-you was a fool for walking away, for hurting 1233 unnecessarily, and you wouldn’t make the same mistake she did.

And now, like in the night sky, the promise of stars would be written on your skin.

#scp 1233 #scp 1233 x reader #moon champion #moon champion x reader #the anomaly archives #wolveria writes

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