Gamzee X male!Reader

You are strapped to a chair in an abandoned warehouse. You know that's what it is, because of the sheer size of the interior, along with the concrete everywhere. You have just woken up from a deep sleep induced by who knows what.

You are in a bit of pain, and really want to leave. The ropes tying your wrists and ankles to the chair is much too tight. You see only one other person in the warehouse with you. If you could call him a person, he's so strange looking.

The man sleeps in another chair similar to yours about ten feet away, but he isn't strapped to his chair. You assume he is your kidnapper. He sleeps soundly, his messy black hair flowing a few inches over the edge of the chair. Protruding from this hair, are, if you aren't mistaken, a pair of red-orange-yellow horns.

Yes, that's right, horns. Wavy horns that are about two feet long. This man's skin is an unhealthy looking light grey color, and his face is painted to look like a clown, white with grey around the mouth and eyes.

He wears a purple shirt with the Capricorn symbol on it, and black polka-dotted pants with grey dots. He was really funny looking, if you had to sum him up in a few words. You hope to fucking gog you are dreaming.

The man holds an open bottle of Faygo in his right hand, and a horn in the other. Not the kind like on his head, the kind that makes noise.

HONK.

The sound surprises you, as you thought that he was sleeping. His eyes pop open and he sits up, taking a swig of the Faygo before smiling widely. He tilts his head and looks in your eyes.

"I'm Gamzee." He says slowly. You swallow. He incites more fear in you than you think he should.

HONK.

He crosses to you slowly with an intoxicated gait. and, surprising the hell out of you, he sits on your lap. He chuckles at your slight gasp.

"What do you want?" You manage to whisper pathetically. He gets very close to your ear, and his words send a shiver through you.

"I want you, motherfucker." He blows his horn in your face.

HONK. He laughs like he's out of his mind. He probably is, now that you think about it.

He shifts so that he is facing you, but still on your lap. He is still holding the soda, which you can taste in his mouth when he kisses you. It is orange flavored. His cold tongue explores your mouth, and you can't help but be turned on by this inhuman clown.

He pulls back and looks at your face, letting out a crazed laugh. "Untie me." You say, ignoring the futility of the whole situation. Shit, you were probably dreaming anyway, you think.

"Beg, motherfucker." He says with a straight face. He can't be serious?

"Just let me go, asshole. I don't want you." That was the biggest lie you'd told in years.

"I said, beg." His voice gets dangerous at the end. You stay silent, pondering what he might do. You don't see any weapons nearby, but with this clown, you aren't so sure you should trust what you see.

He suddenly grabs your hair and pulls your head back. "I said motherfuckin' beg, motherfucker!" he yells.

"Please." You whisper.

"Please what?"

"Please Gamzee, untie me, please." You hate that you had given in. He unties the ropes that hold your ankles and wrists, humming a carnival tune. When you stand up and stretch your legs, he backs you up against the wall and forcefully kisses you once more.

His ice cold hands travel up your sides underneath your shirt, and you wrap your legs around his waist, letting the wall hold your weight.

"Is this the same motherfucker who told me he didn't want me?" Gamzee asks rhetorically with a small laugh. You flip him off and he lays you on the ground, the cold cement sending a shiver down your spine.

"What do you want?" He whispers seductively, his smile accented by the face paint. His hand lingers at the waist of your pants, but he waits for your response.

"Fuck me." You say roughly. You need it.

"Beg." His smile falters for a moment. Goddammit, what is this clown's complex with dominance?

"Please, fuck me. Goddammit, Gamzee, fuck me!" You practically yell.

He chuckles. "Say please one more time for me, motherfucker." You glare at him.

"Please." He smiles and bites down roughly on your neck, simultaneously pulling off your pants and boxers. He is very adept with his hands, it seems. He takes about ten seconds to strip his own clothes.

"Kneel, motherfucker. Get in position." He says. He chuckles maniacally while you turn over and get on your hands and knees. He chugs the last of the orange Faygo, and drops the bottle, leaving it to roll across the cement. He descends.

You feel the tip of his throbbing bulge at your entrance, and you know that he is as ready as you are. He goes in about a half inch, then pulls out. Once more he goes in, this time about an inch. Goddammit, now he's just fucking with you.

You look up at him over your shoulder. He laughs condescendingly. You know what he wants.

"Please Gamzee, fuck me. Please?" He finally thrusts all the way in, eliciting a loud moan from you. His moans of pleasure sound really and truly insane, and you love it.

His dick wriggles a little bit as it pushes in, causing pleasure to shoot through you in short bursts. He pulls out again, and thrusts all the way back in. He repeats the process over and over again, causing the pleasure to pool in your stomach until you feel you are about to come.

Hearing Gamzee squealing maniacally behind you, you know he is close. But he isn't done. He pulls out of you and turns you over onto your back, laying pretty much on top of you. He shoves his tongue in your mouth.

He goes back in, putting your legs on his shoulders for easier access. He pumps you over and over; you're both so close. When you feel his ice cold genetic material fill you, it pushes you over the edge and you come also. You both lay there panting for a moment.

You smile. Oh, this clown is good.

You sit straight up in bed, panting. You rub your forehead in frustration. Goddammit, why couldn't that have been real? You sigh, but proceed with your day, thinking of the clown that stole your dream self's virginity.

HONK. :o)