𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

The real barbie is Y/n.

Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.

We Hit Ten Followers!!

Wow, I cannot believe 10 amazing people have decided to follow my little corner of Tumblr! Thank you all for your kindness, your likes, and for making this space feel so warm and inspiring. You’re the best, and I’m so grateful for each of you! Your support means the world to me, and I’m excited to keep sharing and connecting with all of you.

Thank you for being here—it truly makes my day!

With love,

— Merxcy ❤️

P.S. Remember to keep eating and hydrating, you are loved! ❤️

𝑆𝑎𝑙 𝐹𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑅𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

Characters: Sal Fisher

TW: None, this is all fluff :)

a/n: My first ever written piece for Tumblr! I’m very excited to publish this for you all to read. The rest of the gang will be coming soon, don’t worry! With that being said, enjoy!

𝐒𝐚𝐥 𝐅𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫:

♡ My favorite baby blue boy 💙

𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩:

♡ You two met when you moved into Addison Apartments!

♡ You and your family had moved in the apartment that was beside Todd. Your family had encouraged you to go around a meet your neighbors since you had already finished unpacking, and lucky for you, you just happened to run into the blue haired boy with pigtails talking to a kid with glasses, who you presumed to be his friend.

♡ Not wanting to interrupt their conversation, you figured you would introduce yourself to them later. Little did you know you caught the attention of the pigtailed boy as you walked past them, kind of had the look he gave towards Ashley in the second chapter!

♡ Asks Larry or Chug if they had met you and asks a million questions about you also.

♡ He goes out of his way to find more information about you, that cool book you just read about? He will finish the entire book or series that night. Just saw this cool movie? He’s watching it as soon as he gets home from school. This band you recently got into? He’s buying all their albums. He wants to learn everything about you.

♡ Finally, he goes up to apartment door—thankfully you answer and not one of your parents—and introduces himself and soon he finds himself enthralled by you.

♡ Now you two are officially attached at the hip, going where the other goes.

♡ Larry can see Sal growing more and more fond of you each day that passes. Even poking at Sal to make a move already.

♡ Sal finally works up the courage to ask you out that night and asks you at school if you wanted to hang out at his apartment later, and of course you agree.

♡ Freaks out. Tremendously. Is running around the apartment like crazy making sure everything is tidy and neat before you arrive. Even has Larry come up to help him.

♡ Larry tries to calm down Sal, telling Sal that he just needs to breathe and stop worrying because she likes you for who you are and isn’t going to judge you.

♡ That isn’t to say you aren’t freaking out about this too, you have only ever hung out with Sal at school, the treehouse, Larry’s room or Todd’s room.

♡ Panicking, you call Ashley and she tells you the same thing Larry said to Sal.

“Just breathe, Reader; Sal cares for you in his own quiet way, I’ve seen the look in his eyes whenever you’re near. The way he remembers the things that matter to you, it’s obvious that he loves you. You just need to tell him.”

♡ Those words brought you comfort, and little did Sal know you planned on doing the same thing he was doing.

♡ Soon, the time arrives for you to head over to Sal’s place to hang out.

♡ You two are having so much fun, playing with his Gearboy, Messing with Gizmo, watching horror movies, etc.

♡ You even got to meet Sal’s dad, who tells you to call him Henry instead of Mr. Fisher—he jokingly told you that Mr. Fisher is name you would use to call an old person and he isn’t ready for that title yet.

♡ Then the time comes where he feels confident enough to ask you to be his.

♡ When he does ask you out, I picture you guys having a Luz and Amity moment from the Owl House—when Luz tries to ask out Amity but she’s beat Luz to it first.

𝐃𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩:

♡ He 100 percent trusts you—after all you did ask him to date you—but it takes him a while to take his prosthetic off around you, like months.

♡ Once he feels more comfortable with you, the mask is always off.

Side note: Sal loves it when you take in consideration of his skincare, I headcanon that Sal has very sensitive skin after the incident and can only use certain brands of soap to wash his face with. One time you found a brand that wouldn’t aggravate his skin and offered to help him wash his face with it, he started to cry.

♡ Sal would try and be the best boyfriend he could be: never forgetting anniversaries, reminding you of your schedule, helping you with homework, etc.

♡ Would absolutely teach you how to play guitar in your guys spare time.

♡ Writes little songs for you on and sometimes plays them for you.

♡ I feel like Sal’s type of love is physical touch—since he was deprived of it at a young age—quality time, acts of service and words of affirmation.

♡ Sal will go out of his way to get you little gifts or trinkets (whether bought or found somewhere random), he always makes sure to take mental notes whenever you mention you want something from a certain store.

“Hey I found this flower, and it reminded me of us.”

♡ Loves prolonged hugs and cuddle sessions with you, like I said earlier, I picture Sal being touched deprived so any chance he could take you to either his room or the nearest sofa with Gizmo laying near you guys, it is like heaven for him.

♡ Would let you paint his nails, do his hair, or even put makeup on him. He loves being your personal model, it makes him feel pretty.

♡ Sal is not really big on looks—for obvious reasons—he just wants someone who will accept for who he is.

♡ Sal is obsessed with wearing your clothes. Sal is a short king and if you and him are the exact same size or your taller than him, you best BELIEVE he will be walking around Addison Apartments with some form of your clothing on.

♡ If you wear something of his though? Game over.

♡ One time you went into Sal’s room thinking he was in there, only to find him gone and his sweater lying neatly on his bed. Surely he wouldn’t get mad over you wearing his black sweater for a little bit, right? Once Sal returned back to his room after trying to find ghosts around the building, he found you sprawled out on his bed , wearing his sweater, with Gizmo in your lap, purring. This boy’s face became completely flushed under his mask and couldn’t even bring himself to look at you for the remainder of the day.

♡ Dates are more lowkey between you two. Staying home and playing video games or movie nights are two of his favorites.

♡ Please kiss him all over, prosthetic or not. He adores it. 💙

♡ Calls you Bluebell, Love, Princess/Prince, Sunshine, Sweetheart, Dear, Beloved.

♡ Would absolutely cook for you if you ask him too. For me, I feel Sal’s mom used to be the main cook of the household, reading recipes she would find from cookbooks. After her passing, Sal secretly took one of her cookbooks and stashed it away in his room in New Jersey and still has it even as an adult.

♡ Whenever you guys are public, he makes it known you are taken—not in a jealous kind of way, more like showing public affection.

♡ Locks pinkies with you.

♡ Loves just wrapping his arms around you and laying his head on your shoulder. It brings him comfort.

♡ Reads you like a book, even though he’s not great with his emotions, he can tell whenever yours have changed.

♡ Has matching bracelets with you, that he never takes off, unless he’s showering.

♡ Absolutely sees a future with you.

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑠! <3

𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑦: 𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑠-𝑛-𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒

WAIT WAIT WAIT but what if in the angst duchess au, she reaches her breaking point but instead of crying she gets angry, really angry? she did nothing but be kind (JUSTICE FOR DUCHESS)

What would happen if she threatened to reveal their secret if they didn't at least start treating her with respect? Would they accept or threaten her back? (i can see simon protect his man and and their relationship) I NEED ANSWER

(really really love your blog, even if i'm still busy with university i Always find time to read It <3 <3 <3)

I’m more focused on the idea of her threatening them and them threatening her back- that must cause sooo much tension omg?? Especially if you adapt a very frosty, very cold attitude towards everyone in the duchy after that disastrous day of threats. There’s an awful pressure surrounding everyone, and even the staff take to silently doing their jobs to not risk anyone’s ire- especially after you fire several maids who had been whispering about you, and John didn’t put up a fuss and neither did Kyle.

They become used to feeling your glares, your chilling silence, the downright crude way you tell them how much you hate them, the constant threats- they become used to it. Or at least, they think they are becoming used to it until they notice you one day, a smile on your face while reading a letter that came with a big bouquet of red roses.

An admirer.

Small Hiatus

Hi guys!

Firstly, I am sorry I haven’t been writing a whole lot here recently. My family and I have begun celebrating Christmas and doing holiday themed activities, which kind of put me at a standstill with writing. I promise I will get to your guys requests it just might take some time. Secondly, I will be going on vacation from the 30th to the 5th so I will not be writing anything during that time as I wish too spend it with my family. I hope you guys will understand.

Love you guys and Happy Holidays!

— Merxcy ❤️💚

I love this sm!! 🥹 @writeriguess did an absolute amazing job!! Please go check their work out, they are truly talented!! ❤️

Hi lovely! I’m not sure if you do this, but I would love to see poly!141 x reader! Preferably angsty or comfort (If not, then could I get one with Soap?)

Thank you my darling! ❤️❤️

Ghosts of the Past

The darkness felt suffocating.

Sweat clung to your skin, the thin fabric of your shirt damp and sticking to your back. Your chest rose and fell in quick, ragged breaths as you stared into the abyss of your room, trying to convince yourself that you were here, not there.

But the nightmare had been too real this time.

Gunfire. Smoke. The weight of blood-soaked earth beneath your knees.

It had been all around you, swallowing you whole, dragging you back into the worst moments of your past. The smell of burning flesh still clung to your senses, making your stomach churn. You swore you could feel the phantom sting of a bullet grazing your ribs, the echo of a comrade’s last breath filling your ears.

Your throat locked up, and a choked sob broke free before you could swallow it down.

That was all it took.

Price stirred first. He was always the first to wake up, his instincts sharper than the rest of them. There was a heavy exhale, the rustling of fabric as he shifted beside you, and then the familiar weight of his hand on your arm.

"Love? You alright?"

You couldn’t answer. Your breathing was still erratic, chest rising and falling in quick, shallow bursts as you clenched the sheets in tight fists. You knew where you were, knew you were safe, but your body wasn’t listening.

Soap was next. You felt him move before you heard his voice, his warmth pressing closer as he propped himself up on one elbow. His voice was softer than usual, still tinged with sleep, but laced with worry.

"Another nightmare?"

You barely managed a nod, body trembling as you struggled to regain control of your breathing.

A large, warm hand slid over yours, squeezing gently. Gaz. He didn’t say anything right away, just offered the grounding pressure you needed. His touch was solid, real—something to tether you to the present.

Ghost moved last, but when he did, it was with quiet purpose. You barely heard him shift until his voice rumbled through the dark, thick with sleep but firm in its concern.

"Breathe, sweetheart. Slow it down."

You sucked in a shaky inhale but couldn’t seem to hold onto it. Your heart was still racing, your body still trapped in the ghost of a past that wouldn’t let you go.

A second squeeze from Gaz. A reassuring rub along your back from Price. The weight of Soap pressing his forehead to yours, his presence humming with quiet strength.

"You’re safe," Soap murmured. "It’s just us, bonnie. We got you."

The weight of their presence surrounded you, warm and steady. Slowly—painfully slow—your breathing began to even out.

"Can you tell us what it was about?" Gaz asked gently.

You hesitated.

How could you put it into words? How could you tell them that the nightmare wasn’t just a nightmare—that it was real, that it had happened? That it wasn’t just your subconscious playing tricks on you but a memory etched so deep into your bones that you doubted it would ever fade?

Your silence stretched, but Ghost didn’t push. Instead, he shifted closer, his arm wrapping fully around your waist and pulling you against his solid chest. His warmth seeped into you, pressing down the last remnants of the nightmare like an anchor.

"You don’t have to talk about it," he murmured. "Just let us hold you."

Your fingers clenched the fabric of Soap’s shirt, body still trembling as you finally let yourself sink into them.

Price was still rubbing slow, steady circles against your back. "You're not alone, love," he said quietly. "We’re right here. Always."

You squeezed your eyes shut as Soap’s hand found your jaw, tilting your face slightly toward him. His forehead pressed against yours again, a silent comfort, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

"You’re ours, bonnie. Nothing’s gonna get you, not while we’re here."

Gaz’s fingers brushed through your hair, slow and deliberate. "You should get some rest," he murmured, voice gentle. "We’ll stay awake if you need us to."

You shook your head. You didn’t want them to watch you, to stay awake just because your mind refused to cooperate. "You don’t have to—"

Ghost cut you off with a quiet, firm whisper. "We will."

It wasn’t up for debate.

You sighed, exhaustion tugging at your limbs now that the initial adrenaline had faded. You still felt raw, frayed at the edges, but the worst of the panic had passed.

Soap let out a soft chuckle, but there was no teasing in his tone. "Gotta be honest, love, you’re not getting rid of us that easy."

Price hummed in agreement. "You need rest. You’re safe here. Just close your eyes."

They weren’t leaving.

You should’ve known better than to think they would.

As if sensing the last of your resistance, they all settled closer. Ghost’s arm remained firm around your waist, anchoring you. Soap nuzzled against your temple, his warmth a silent reassurance. Gaz’s hand traced absent patterns along your arm, soothing, steady. And Price’s slow, methodical rubs against your back never wavered.

Soap murmured something in Gaelic—something quiet and familiar. You barely understood it, but it was enough to lull you, the cadence of his voice washing over you like a lullaby.

The last thing you felt before slipping into sleep was the weight of Price pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead, his voice a low whisper in the dark.

"Sleep, love. We’ve got you."

And for the first time in a long time, you believed it.

Dad! Simon

You find him in the bedroom, sitting on the floor with his back against the bed, legs stretched out, a shoebox balanced on his thigh. And, scattered around him—like fallen leaves—are photographs.

You lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Planning a scrapbook?”

Simon doesn’t look up, but the corner of his mouth twitches. Not quite a smile. Just recognition.

"He’s gotten so big now," he mutters, lifting a picture between his fingers. He turns it toward you—your son, a newborn, swaddled tight, impossibly small in his arms. "Look at this—head barely bigger than my palm."

You step inside, lowering yourself beside him. The photos form a mosaic across the carpet—a timeline of a life measured in firsts.

First ultrasound. First bath. First wobbly steps.

His first birthday, cake frosting, smeared across chubby cheeks, fingers reaching for Simon’s.

His first time on Simon’s shoulders, tiny hands gripping his head, giggling like he’d never known a world without laughter.

You pick up a more recent one—your son at five, sitting on Simon’s lap, eyes bright, smile wide. He looks just like him. Same sharp gaze, same shape of the mouth. It’s almost funny how undeniable it is.

Simon exhales, slow and steady, his thumb tracing over the glossy surface.

"Simon ...do you want me to - "

His jaw tightens, just for a second, before he lets out a quiet huff. “No, it’s fine. Thinkin’ of puttin’ some in an album.”

You don’t catch him on the lie.

Because what you don’t know—what you won’t know for a long time—is that there will be no album.

The photos will go back into the box. Just like they always do.

And later that night, after the house has settled into quiet, after you’ve both gone to bed, he’ll slip the box under his side of the nightstand—within reach, always.

And when it’s time—when the bags are packed, when his boots are laced, when the house is still dark with sleep—he’ll take the smallest, most recent one.

-- where your son is missing a front tooth, grinning wide, arms thrown around your neck like he never wants to let go.

He’ll fold it carefully, tuck it into the pocket of his gear.

Because the thought of not having it, of not carrying that proof of life with him, is unbearable.

So he keeps them.

And sometimes, when he’s halfway across the world, when the silence stretches too long and the weight in his chest feels too heavy to bear, he’ll take that photo out.

Run his thumb over the edges.

Remind himself of what’s waiting for him at home.

Just for a little while.

Just to hold on.

Hello everyone,

As Christmas 🎄 approaches, I want to thank everyone who has supported my campaign and helped me get closer to achieving a small but meaningful dream for my family. We are now so close to reaching our goal of $10,500, with only $133 left to go!

This amount will help us cover our basic needs and bring some stability back to our lives after everything we’ve been through.🙏🏻

Christmas is a time for giving and love, and even the smallest contribution now can help us complete this campaign and reach our goal. Thank you to everyone who has stood by us during these tough times.🥺

Wishing you a Merry Christmas filled with peace, love, and joy with your loved ones.✨❤️🎁

https://gofund.me/abbc2759

Vetted by:

@allthecryingdragons @bilal-salah0

@a-shade-of-blue

𝑺𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑮𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈

Hello everyone,

I don’t typically post this kinds of things, but it needs to be known. This family tragically lost their house from the bombing in Gaza. Unfortunately they are still suffering from the devastating loss. They are so close to reaching their gofundme goal of $10,500. If anyone could help donate to their cause it would mean the absolute world to not only me but his family as well. It doesn’t have to be much, and if you cannot donate please share!

Thank you guys,

—Merxcy ❤️

I’m so obsessed with Tara’s writing I might just cry.

what a heavenly way to die || the proxies

‘forever is in your eyes, but forever ain’t half the time’

sum: after being stranded in the middle of a snow storm, you’re forced to take shelter with masky, hoodie, and toby. you need to stay warm, by any means necessary

tw:SMUT, FILTHY, LONG, AGGRESSIVE SMUT, foursome kinda? idk?, sub!reader, soft dom!masky, hard dom!hoodie, sub!toby, gun play, overstimulation, exhibitionism, lowkey throat fucking, praise, humiliation, power dynamics lowkey do be in place

a/n: FOR ALL OF MY OG HITCHHIKER BABIES <3

“But I don’t wanna wear gloves!”

“Toby if you don’t wear gloves, your fingers are gonna fall off.”

Masky’s voice was hoarse, his patience thinning the longer he walked. Not even a fresh cigarette could make this situation any better. Only some shit like this would happen to him.

On the way back from an assignment the car ran out of gas, courtesy of allowing Hoodie to drive for more than five minutes. Now with the tank on E, the four of you were stranded in the middle of no where. Snow fell from the sky, coating each of you more and more by the second. Hoodie seemed perfectly content with his offense, minus the occasional shiver. Toby couldn’t comprehend the need to wear so many layers, the kid practically fighting for the right to freeze to death. Masky found himself silently regretting his choice of a mask, his gaze landing on you.

Normally he discounted your presence, you being the newest member of the group. But he’d be lying to himself if he shrugged you off. Although you had only been around for a few years now, for such a tiny little thing you sure pulled your weight. He never thought much of you at first, your small stature and loud mouth telling him everything he could ever want to know. But over the years of enslavement together you simmered down, sometimes more quiet than Hoodie. Masky could deal with his silence, having been dragged into this shit show by his hand.

But you? He couldn’t handle it.

His dark gaze landed on you, looming over your shaking form like a dark cloud. You always wore skimpy clothing, even if not practical. This happened to be one of those times, your skirt riding up your thighs and knee high socks failing to conceal the goosebumps that littered your skin. “Cold, kid?” Masky asked, ignoring his own shaky fingertips as he took a drag of his cigarette. The four of you had been hiking for what felt like hours, more and more of your limbs becoming numb by the second. “T-Told ya life wasn’t a f-fashion show,” Toby chimed in, clearly enjoying the weather.

“Can it, you ticking time bomb,” Masky interjected, frowning. He noted the way you avoided his gaze, as if you were afraid of judgment. But why? You had never given a shit about his opinion before. He grunted to himself as he shrugged off his signature mustard jacket, forcefully shoving it on your shoulders.

“But you’ll freeze-”

“Put it on and don’t bitch about it.”

His voice was stern and full of authority, threatening you to question it. His mask hid his satisfied expression as he watched you put it on. “Any plans here boss? Or do we plan on camping out here?” Hoodie asked sarcastically. It was in moments like these Masky was thankful the two of them wore mask, his distain written all over his face. “We just need to keep heading south like boss ordered,” Masky huffed, blowing cigarette smoke out into the cold night air. Tensions were arising quickly, the freezing cold fizzling out any trust that had been formed.

“Head south? Are you on crack or delusional? Toby’s fingers are so frost bitten they’re about to snap off and the kid is so fuckin cold i’m surprised she’s able to stand at all,” Hoodie barked, his words laced with venom. Masky didn’t like to go off schedule. He didn’t like to piss off The Operator. If it were him and him alone, he’d continue walking south until he either made it or The Operator himself found him. However, as his eyes raked in the sight of his companions, he realized Hoodie was right.

“Fine, we’ll have a sleepover. Follow me. I saw smoke over this way,” Masky agreed reluctantly, tossing his cigarette bud carelessly onto the ground. Toby began to yap about Masky being a litter bug, earning him a knock upside the head from Hoodie. The silent proxy gritted his teeth, annoyed with Masky neglecting to tend to them sooner.

“You saw signs of civilization and just now told us? How long would you have let us walk before we fuckin froze to death?” Hoodie questioned, his gaze so deadly Masky could feel holes burning into his back. You awkwardly tugged his jacket closer to you, your breath shallow. “He’s k-kinda right, kinda an asshole move,” You said softly, completely exhausted from marching in a borderline snow storm. Masky’s gaze softened for a moment, before noticing Toby had taken off his gloves. “We need to get going before this dipshit loses his fingers,” Masky grumbled, shrugging off the issue at hand. The three of you trailed behind him, satisfaction washing over you as a cabin came into sight.

You weren’t an advocate for death, but you quite literally would’ve killed someone for a warm spot in that cabin. The four of you burst inside, scanning the room for any sign of human life. None of you could deny your eagerness to be warm. A small fire crackled in the background in the fireplace, providing a soft orange glow to the room. Masky gestured Toby to follow him upstairs, leaving you and Hoodie to scope out the remainder of the first floor. “Any guesses on why it’s abandoned like this?” You asked the taller proxy, avoiding his lingering gaze. Hoodie tended to be a bit unsettling sometimes, whether he meant to be or not.

“My guess? Some rich couple cut their honeymoon short and hauled ass once they saw the forecast,” Hoodie said blandly, shrugging off his ski mask. It had been a while since you had seen his face, his stubble grown out more than you could remember. “Good for us then,” You mumbled, averting your eyes. You stared at the ground so much you tended to forget what your fellow proxies faces looked like. Footsteps trampling down the stairs regained your attention, your head snapping in the direction. “Good news, place is ours. Bad news, the only heat source is that lovely fireplace right there,” Masky said, sitting down in front of the small couch. The three of you followed his lead, crowding around the tiny fireplace.

“This is your grand plan?” Hoodie questioned, his distrust visible on his face with his mask off. Masky fought the urge to light another cigarette, bringing his knees to his chest. “The fireplace as well as our body heat is enough to survive. Unless you have a better idea, be quiet,” Masky replied dryly. Toby took the opportunity to lay his head in your lap, a place he had been time and time again. You had taken on this role long ago, stroking his chestnut hair until the unpredictable ticking time bomb fell asleep. Tonight was no exception, even as you settled in next to Masky.

You ignored the ever growing tension that sprouted with each second as your arms touched, the smell of his cologne mixed with tobacco flooding your nostrils. Tensions were ever growing as your arm brushed against his, your energies so magnetic it made you unmistakably nervous. Nervous. You never felt nervous in any other situation. But around Masky? Especially close like this? You might as well have been a flirty high school girl. Hoodie ignored the three of you, jumping over the arm of the couch and making himself comfortable. He was always reserved like that, refusing to touch any of you unless he was back handing Toby. The couch squeaked under his weight, the squeaks continuing until the older proxy got settled.

You continued to play with Toby’s hair, swirling your fingers around his scalp. “Warm enough kid?” Masky asked, his voice more rough than usual. You tried to avoid staring, noticing him taking off his mask out of the corner of your eye. You wanted nothing more than to soak in his features, especially since his mask was practically glued to his face a majority of the time. Instead you forced yourself gaze to remain forward, watching the fire flicker. “I suppose,” You mumbled, catching a knot in Toby’s hair. You refrained from cringing as you brushed it through with your fingers, thankful he couldn’t feel pain as he slept soundly. The sound of Hoodie’s soft snores put Masky a little more at ease, his next words something he wouldn’t admit to the other two men next to you.

“You were right about earlier. I was an asshole, I should’ve had us head here to begin with,” Masky admitted timidly. He didn’t like being the leader, that role automatically assigned to him like it was his birth right. What he didn’t like even more than that, was admitting that he was wrong. He expected ridicule, which he would’ve gotten if you were Hoodie or Toby. But instead you laid your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against the fabric of his sweater. “I know you were just trying to please The Operator,” You whispered. You continued playing with Toby’s hair, ensuring your hand didn’t stop. You glanced up in his direction, soaking in his thick eyebrows and awkward side burns. His chocolate eyes met yours unsurely, an eyebrow raising.

“What are you doing to me kid?” Masky grumbled, his own heart beginning to race. This was bad news, feeling this way towards you. But the orange glow against your skin had him reeling in his own skin. “You tell me boss,” You whispered back, edging your lips towards his. It caught you off guard that Masky made the first move, planting his lips against yours. His lips were as chapped as yours, his taste a recognized mixture of mint and cigarettes. You melted under his touch, eagerly kissing him back. He was intoxicating, his large hand slipping into your hair.

You could feel your core throbbing with desire, your cheeks flushing pink as you realized this. Being a proxy didn’t exactly equate a productive sex life, your body longing for the touch of another human. You couldn’t get enough of his lips, his desperation. It was just as passionate as yours, both of you longing for human compassion. You shuddered as his large hand slithered down to your thigh, your legs parting instantly. His cold fingertips trailed up your sensitive skin, tracing your skin teasingly. You held back a soft groan, Masky eager to hear you make sinful noise for him. He was so close to your core, your body shuddering at the idea-

“What the fuck are you two doing?”

Hoodies voice was sharp, abruptly interrupting your lustful daze. Love affairs between proxies was forbidden, a strict rule made clear to you by The Operator. While he gave the same speech to Kate, he knew that her feralness would unintentionally have her follow his rule to a T. You, however, were semi more mentally stable, with a knack for fashion and semi put together appearances. For the first time you saw panic across Masky’s eyes, causing you to clear your throat. “Sharing body warmth obviously, you cold Hoodie?” You asked, the lie leaving your lips before you had time to consider the repercussions. For a second you could’ve swore you saw a glimpse of Brian, a playful smirk crawling up his lips.

Your hand abandoned Toby’s hair, grabbing a handful of Hoodies coat to drag him closer to you. You managed to spare a moment of hesitation, dragging his lips to clash into yours. You were tense at first, unsure what the proxy would do. You were surprised to feel him meet your desperation all the same, the nagging realization of his similar loneliness crashing over you. Teeth clashed with teeth, his desperation resulting in a deeper kiss than you expected. You found yourself getting even more flushed, knowing Masky’s eyes were burning into yours. He took the opportunity to press his hand against your core, noting how damp your panties were already.

“You’re gonna wake the kid up,” Hoodie grunted, reluctant to pull away from your lips to begin with. Masky rubbed against your swollen slick, earning a small whimper from you. “I’m a-a-already up,” Toby said groggily, sitting up. You avoided his gaze as he soaked in the sinful sight in front him, Masky’s hand on your cunt and Hoodie’s lips mere centimeters from yours. You swallowed, your core throbbing at the idea of taking all three of them at once. After all, you had to convince yourself you weren’t lying. This entanglement was nothing more than an exchange of body heat, a way to keep warm.

Right?

You turned your head towards Toby swallowing nervously as you leaned forward to kiss him. It caught him off guard, his light grey cheeks forming a tint of pink as he matched your actions. Two sets of large hands rearranged you as you lost yourself into the kiss, your ass in the air as your skirt got flipped up. “Fuck,” Masky mumbled, his cold hand sending goosebumps across your skin. You could hear Hoodie moving on the couch, causing you to pull away from sucking on Toby’s bottom lip. The clinking of his belt fully caught your attention, your eyebrows raised. “Do you um, not wanna be warm?” You asked slowly. A pang of embarrassment shot through you, a creeping worry of his lack of desire for you arising. The taller proxy smirked, unzipping his jeans.

“I just wanna watch you get knocked down a few pegs, now go on and kiss Masky again,” Hoodie ordered, palming himself through his jeans. You turned to Masky, cheeks flushed red and heart pounding as you met his gaze. His pupils were blown with lust, his face in the softest state you had ever seen it. You met his lips eagerly, obeying Hoodies demand. Toby took the opportunity to come up behind you, his cold hands slipping under your shirt. Your hand slithered its way down to Masky’s crotch, palming his hard boner. You were satisfied to hear a small groan claw its way out of his throat, your lips eagerly swallowing it. You arched your back as Toby’s curious fingertips found their way to your breast, squeezing harshly at your perky nipples.

“N-No bra? You’re just d-d-dying to get fucked huh?” Toby snickered. Goosebumps trailed down your spine as you whimpered, nibbling on Masky’s bottom lip. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, soaking in his facial expression. “Let me suck you off,” You whispered, biting the inside of your cheek as Toby harshly twisted your left nipple. Masky seemed at a loss of words, something that rarely occurred to him. He looked over you, eyeing a mischievous Toby. “Hey kid, make yourself useful and let her ride your face,” He said, his words laced with authority. You couldn’t ignore the warmth that spread over you as Toby laid on his back, nuzzling himself between your knees.

“Sit back on his face princess,” Hoodie ordered, pulling his cock out of his boxers. Masky clenched his jaw, having momentarily forgotten Hoodie was even there. He watched your shaky hands fiddle with his belt, slowly lowering yourself onto Toby’s eager mouth. You nervously glanced down at the younger proxy, licking your dry lips. “You can uh, touch yourself you know, or something,” You offered unsurely, feeling him shove your panties to the side with his cold fingertips. Masky placed his hand on the back of your head, gently reminding you to focus. “He’ll figure it out kid, stop worryin’ so much,” Masky grumbled. You continued to focus on undressing him, whimpering as you felt Toby’s warm tongue dart in between your folds.

“This is taking way too fuckin long. Let’s speed things up shall we?” Hoodie asked, his cock already exposed and in hand. Your eyes widened as he took out his hand gun, clicking off the safety. “Get to sucking princess,” Hoodie barked. Toby continued to lap at your folds, his tongue messily flicking your clit. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Masky argued. His attention was diverted once you took him in your mouth, eagerly bobbing your head up and down on his hard cock. Hoodie smirked at your reaction, noting the way your thighs squeezed Toby’s head harder. “Look at her Mask. You think a girl like us isn’t into some freaky shit? Now shut up and enjoy it,” Hoodie snickered, stroking himself to the sight.

Toby was eager, his hand pumping his own shaft as he devoured your cunt. He couldn’t get enough of your taste, his soft groans muffled by your soaked folds. Your hips involuntarily grinded against his face, your own moans sending vibrations around Masky’s cock. The brunette tried to hide his own sinful noises, but you taking him to the base cancelled out any possibility of him being able to do so. His hand grabbed a handful of your hair, assertively guiding you up and down his cock. Hoodie couldn’t get enough of the sinful sight, your knees digging into the hard wood as you struggled to hold yourself up. He wouldn’t stop watching even if the world collapsed.

Meanwhile Masky was struggling to hold on, having spent years and years with his hand as his only companion. Your mouth was so warm and wet, your throat only making it harder to resist cumming right then and there. “Fuck kid, you’re gonna be the death of me,” He grunted, feeling your tongue swirl around his tip. Your eyes were already flooded with tears, your gaze meeting his as you deep throated him. It was embarrassing to Masky how fast he knew he was going to cum, your sweet face only bringing him closer to the edge. Hoodie noted this as well, noticing the way Masky’s hips began slowly stuttering. A sadistic thought came to mind, one that he knew would ensure a good time for every party involved.

Your orgasm was approaching quickly, your thighs squeezing Toby’s head so tightly you were almost worried about him. “Go on princess, that’s it. Ride Toby’s face like the good whore you are,” Hoodie purred, stroking himself. He enjoyed watching your micro expressions, your mannerisms. The way your eyebrows furrowed when Toby licked you just right. Masky momentarily pulled out of your mouth, craving to hear your moans. Your spare hand was tugging at Toby’s hair, whimpers clawing their way out of your throat. “Fuck, feels so good T-Toby-” You whined, tilting your head back. Precum and saliva covered your swollen lips, your gaze meeting Masky’s. “Can I cum? Fuck, please let me cum,” You whined, struggling to contain yourself. Masky smirked at your request, briefly giving Hoodie a cocky glance.

“Go on kid, cum for us,” He cooed. Words couldn’t describe the satisfaction he felt as you came on Tobys face, your eyes rolling back and legs shaking. You planned to get off, a click from Hoodies gun ripping you away from your ride of euphoria. “I didn’t tell you to get off, did I? Keep riding princess,” Hoodie barked. Toby was still as eager as ever, his mouth gratefully accepting you as you lowered back down onto him. He lapped at your slick, devouring your cum. “Nobody’s stopping until everyone cums. That’s only fair, isn’t it?” Hoodie asked mockingly. You rolled your tongue out across your bottom lip, presenting yourself for Masky to use. “Masky, please, let me taste you,” You pleaded, struggling to stay upright. The overstimulation was making your body twitch, the brunette quick to shove himself back in your mouth.

Something about this, watching you be overstimulated and cumming, drove Masky feral.

He was more aggressive this time, pulling your hair and forcing your jaw to go slack. You whined as you struggled to keep up, saliva trailing down the sides of your mouth. “Such a good hole for me to use, fuck,” Masky groaned. He could feel himself coming closer to his orgasm, his hips stuttering as he thrust one final time down your throat. His warm seed made you gag as you struggled to keep him in your mouth. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you gripped his thighs, swallowing him whole. He pulled out of your mouth, watching you gulp for air. You were so pretty like this, your face fucked out and sounds nothing more than incoherent babbles. You could hear Toby’s groans growing louder as well, your thighs squeezing around his head as he came on his stomach. The three of you were spent, Toby’s tongue momentarily coming yo a pause.

The sound of Hoodies gun clicking caught all three of your attention, the taller proxy not hiding his sadistic grin. “Not all of us have cum, have we?” He asked, sending a shiver of fear and arousal down your spine. “Keep sucking princess,” He barked. His gaze landed on Toby, whose eyes were barely visible from between your thighs.

“And keep eating her out kid, I wanna see her squirm.”

Ghost: Luv, hurry up, we're gonna be late Y/N, coming out of the dressing room: How do I look? Ghost: Ghost, unbuttoning his shirt: Oh we're definitely going to be late