Hi, I don't know if you're taking requests or not, but if you are, could you do a fluffy romance-y Gamzee Makara x fem Reader, where, after always feeling cold, the Reader decides to steal one of Gamzee’s enormous hoodies without asking, the sleeves dangling well past her hands. Gamzee, at first, was making a big show of being offended, like gasping, clutching his chest, and groaning about his “sacred clown garments.” But then, after a while, he stares a little too long at how small the Reader looks wrapped up in his clothes. Later that evening, while the Reader's curled against him, he admits in a shy mumble that he likes seeing her in his things, because it feels like the world can tell she's his? You can fill in the rest or expand on it if you want, maybe even jazz it up a little?
Hoohhh wow. Okay. I’m glad you know what you like! You’ve basically written out an entire imagine, so I’ll have to do one better. Certainly something to build off of though! Ahem…
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
The hive is always cold. Too cold. He can’t feel it, you’ve asked him to turn it down over and over but he always forgets. It’s hardy like his usual outfits do him any favors either, being light and loose. It’s only natural for a coldblood to want to stay cold. So while he’s out in his living room- which you can hear, because he’s stepping on horns and scaring himself all the while- looking for something to watch, you dig through his closet.
He’s got a lot of clothes you’ve never seen before, sweaters and tank tops and jerseys and hoods and robes. Psychopathic records, some of his juggalo cult things… but some of the clothes are nice and plain as well. Maybe you’ll be able to steal some of those without him noticing? You find a nice, heavy hoodie, purple and black colors. There’s a symbol of the back of a man running with a some of cleaver, which means rather little you.
When you slip it over your head, you have to shake hair out of you eyes. It’s warm. This is what you needed. The thing is the size. The very bottom reaches your knees. The sleeves entirely engulf your hands. There’s no way you can take it from Gamzee without him noticing it belongs to him, but surely just a little warming up won’t hurt? Just a little longer…
“ Hey, babe, check it, I found a horn that doesn’t…” Gamzee stops in the door. “ … work…”
The horn in his hand hits the ground with a dismal honk-squeal. He doesn’t jump this time, eyes focused on you. They slide downward, then right back upward. His words sort of die in this throat.
“ … Do you like it?”
He honk-hiccups. “ Nnno.”
“ You don’t?”
“ Nooo! Nooooooo! That’s mine!” He doesn’t sound hurt, but…
“ What’s wrong?”
“ My vestments… oh, baby, my sacred vestments…”
“ This is a hoodie.”
“ Of only the most wicked motherfucker to run with a hatchet!”
“ Why wasn’t it with your church things then?”
“ ‘Cause I didn’t think- aaaughk!”
He dramatically leans over to clutch his chest, letting his hair drop into his face.
“ Gamz…”
He whines as he looks up at you. “ Sacrilege… sacrilege to the highest degree…”
You laugh and step forward, pulling his hands from his chest into your own. “ Sweetheart… I’m just cold.”
“ Can’t I warm you up?”
“ Babes, you’re naturally cold. I don’t know if you can.”
“ Let me tryyy! Let me try, c’mon, let’s go to the couch.”
He pulls you out to the couch, careful to step over his horns. You both gladly sit next to eachother, and you lean against him. He puts the show he’s decided on- something sappy. He’s probably seen it several times over, and you vaguely remember seeing it once. Still, yku settle in for the ride.
… He doesn’t. He keeps looking between the screen and to you. How the sleeves cover your hands, how it drapes over your body. You can tell, his swath of hair keeps moving back and forth.
“ … Do you even want to watch this?”
“ Huh-? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I do.”
“ You’re not.”
He giggles a little, leaning against you. You lean back.
“ Maybe I like looking! Doesn’t hurt to look.”
“ I thought you didn’t like me wearing this.”
He quiets before he pulls your head into his chest. You don’t argue, and instead nuzzle in.
“ You’re so small compared to me, you know that? I like it. I like it lots…”
“ Uh-huh. I figured.”
Gamzee chuckles a little, running a finger through your hair and twirling stray strands.
“ … And I like you in my clothes too. I get to look at you and think… you’re mine. And I want other people to think that too. I want everyone to think that too.”
“ Well… I do like your closet. Maybe I can…?”
“ … I want you to wear my things more. I wanna see you in my shirts. My jackets. My pants, my boxers… I want you in my skin. In my chest, nested in my ribs…”
“ … Gamz.”
“ I do. I want to feel you in me. I want you intertwined with me. On every level.”
His gaze is… intense. Much more than before.
“ I wanna make sure they could never pull us apart and untangle us even if they tried to.”
“ Nobody’s going to pull us apart, Gamz. It’s okay.”
You watch as his gaze softens as he looks at you.
“ You promise?”
“ Promise.”
