Work Text:
As much as you loathe to admit it, little comes above spending time with Flowery in the Dark World. It would go straight to his head if you ever told him, but you… Like his company. He's funny, attentive and, yes, often at least a tad annoying. Unfortunately for you, you're attracted to all of it, though you know better than to say anything about it. It's a hopeless endeavour, you're sure.
Today, he's yet again crafted a little patch of nature just for the two of you, a little ways removed from the rest of his world. The two of you are sitting there. The ground is soft and comfortable. You're sipping on a glass of Flowery's fruit juice. He never fails to mention his stupid line about 'feeding on his flesh' and, like clockwork, it always makes you laugh.
You drain the last sip from your cup and stare down into the glass. A few droplets of orange-golden liquid still cling to the sides.
"It's not… Actually your flesh, is it?"
Flowery looks up. He'd been swirling the cup in his own hand so that the liquid sloshes around in circular motions, never spilling, no matter how close it gets to the edge.
"Hm? Oh. Yep, it definitely is."
"You've got to be joking."
You stare back down at your glass. You're not sure how to feel about your 'favourite drink' now…
Flowery lets out a short laugh. "You really think anyone without maximum statistics would taste so sweet?"
You jerk your head up, about to retort with a phrase along the lines of 'NO, actually???', but are halted dead in your tracks. Flowery's eyes are partially open, his head tilted a little to the side. His eyes drift down slowly to your lips and back up again. The movement is so slow, so purposeful, that your lips part and heat rises to your face at once. He closes his eyes again.
"I get it. You wanna have some straight from the source, huh? Don't be shy, Princess." A winking sound effect plays, a high-pitched ding, though he doesn't actually move his eyelids.
You freeze like a statue as he flips his hair with one hand, the other starting to undo the top few buttons of his shirt. It exposes more of his golden skin. You can't help but stare. The area around his collarbone is perfectly smooth, honestly, a little too much so. It's entirely unmarred by anything. Even though you just finished your last drink, your throat feels awfully parched.
You swallow thickly. "…Are we really doing this?"
Flowery shrugs with an air of nonchalance, tugging the fabric a little wider.
"That depends on what you want. I'm offering, aren't I?"
You sit there for a good few seconds. Your brain has flatlined. Not a coherent thought is being formed in there. It's a testament to how big of a crush you have that, after a few seconds, you slowly stand up and move in closer. You refuse to look at his face. There'll be a smug expression on there unlike any other.
"Heh. Knew you wouldn't be able to resist." In the end, it doesn't really matter, because it drips off of his every word.
In response, you grumble something incoherent. It only makes Flowery laugh. You rub at your cheek and the side of your neck with your hand. Your face gets impossible hotter when he spreads his legs and pats the spot in between them.
"Well? Sit down."
You kneel in front of him, your eyes darting away. Up this close, he even smells faintly sweet. You jolt as his hand comes to rest on your lower back. Flowery nudges you forward with a single finger. In your mind, you've already come too far to back out now. That's what you try to tell yourself at least. The reality is that you… Really want to do this.
A shuddering breath escapes your lips as you lean forward. When you bite down on his collarbone, it's with far too much pressure. Flowery stiffens beneath you. He looks human enough that, at times, it slips your mind that he's anything but. Your teeth sink through his skin with frightening ease, his chest jitters with a sudden, shaky inhale. Something soft brushes against your cheek. In the corner of your eye, you can barely make out a swaying little flower that's sprouted from his chest.
Flowery's skin is too soft. It's practically velvety as it brushes against your lips, a little difficult to keep steady in between your teeth. You slacken your jaw and pull away. Flowery's hand moves up to the back of your head and applies pressure. He doesn't force you against his chest, but it's enough to prevent you from moving further.
"You're not backing out now, are you?" Go on, you won't get a taste like this." He pushes you forward a little.
"Doesn't it… Hurt?" You sputter out.
"Aww, are you worried about me? Don't you worry, buttercup. You're just tickling my petals a little, that's all."
Whether you go through with this or not, he's going to tease you about the rest of your life. You just know it. So you might as well go through with it… Right?
You lean back in and the pressure on the back of your head disappears at once. Then, you bite down a little harder and squeeze your eyes shut.
The layer underneath his petals is harder to get through. Sinewy, almost, and it's warm. You have to relax jaw and bite down again with more force. It slips in between your teeth, a spray of sweetness sprays on your tongue. The juice borders on saccharine, it's fruity, a little warm and yet refreshing. You moan at the flavour before you have the chance to suppress the noise.
Flowery's hand lands back on your head again. This time, his fingers thread through your hair. He doesn't tug. Instead, his fingers scratching lightly at your scalp. He doesn't say a word, just puffing out a breath when you release your grip only to bite down a little harder.
He tastes so good that you can't describe it. That you can't help yourself. It's scratching an itch that you never knew you even had and you press your face closer to the wound, lips smooshing against his skin, as you swallow another mouthful. Sweet, golden nectar dribbles down the side of your mouth and leaks down to soak the front of your clothes.
Your hands and feet are starting to tingle. Your tongue is heavy and warm in your mouth,head lolling to the side as you practically collapse against him. Flowery wraps an arm around you and steadies you with ease, petals floating in out of nowhere to support your body from all sides.
"Woah, that's— That seems to be enough, buttercup."
You whine as he pushes on your shoulders and makes you unlatch your mouth. Your head sways back and forth, eyes snagging on where you'd been sucking on moments prior. There's practically a hole left on his previously-perfect skin, teeth marks surrounding it. More nectar lazily drools from the wound. Small flowers are already starting to sprout inside it, stitching it shut little by little bit. Flowery's head is turned towards you, a frown on his brow and the corners of his mouth turned downwards.
"S'yummy…" you manage to slur as you stare up at him. "Thanks…"
"Berry good, berry good," Flowery responds absentmindedly. He lifts a hand to your forehead and immediately jerks it away. "You're burning up. We need to get you somewhere to rest."
He holds onto your wrists as he slowly gets up, attempting to get you to your feet alongside him. Your legs shake uncontrollably and as soon as you try to put weight on them, you stumble forwards, crashing right into Flowery.
"No walking for you either, up you go."
Once again, petals float up to support your body. You giggle as you're lifted off of the ground, feet kicking in the air, and are then promptly deposited bridal style into Flowery's arms. You let out a little 'oof'. Your temple knocks into his head with a thud.
"How are you feeling? I didn't think that it would have such a strong effect on you…"
"Warm…" you mumble, wriggling a little in his hold. Your eyes flutter open and, just above your head, more of the liquid continues to soak into the front of Flowery's shirt. You strain your neck to try and reach it, parting your lips, and—
Flowery pushes you back down with a single finger to your forehead. "No, no, no. Not a chance." He lets out a sigh. "Whatever shall I do with you? It's not very polite to try and feed on someone without permission, you know."
His expression softens. "…But I suppose you're not all there right now, are you? I'll just have to forgive you." He snaps his fingers.
"Here. Have this instead." A vine slithers up his arm, the tip of it pressing to your parted lips.
It doesn't taste nearly as good. It tastes like nothing at all. You grumble into the plant, but can't do much. Your limbs grow heavier and heavier by the second, your brain fuzzy, thoughts impossible to slog through. A sheen of sweat covers your skin underneath your clothes and you shiver. You curl up a little closer to Flowery and chew on the vine in your mouth.
You grow dizzy as soon as he starts to move, the darkness twisting and morphing around you so fast that you squeeze your eyes shut.
Seemingly in the blink of an eye, you're being lowered on a soft bed, the petals of the flower pillow underneath your head brushing against your cheek. You let out a slow sigh, shifting around a little to get more comfortable.
"You stay put, alright, buttercup? I'll have this sitch solved in a jiff, just going to get you some water." A cold breeze brushes over your wind, over and over again, helping to make you feel the slightest bit more cool.
"Try and see if you can take a little nap, won't you? I'm never far."
"Wa, wait, no, no, no," your voice cracks and tears immediately spring to the corners of your eyes. You sniff loudly through your nose, a distressed whimper sounding from the back of your throat. Flowery hangs his shoulders and turns around.
"Ple, please stay."
He drops to his knees besides your bed and grabs hold of one of your hands, interlacing your fingers.
"Sh, I get it— I'm not going anywhere. Just close your eyes for a little while, okay?" You let out a sigh and do as he says, allowing your eyes to slide shut. You can hardly lift your arm and yet you focus your energy on your fingers, squeezing his hand.
"…You don't have to try so hard, buttercup. I really am staying right here." Little by little, your fingers relax.
It settles you somewhat to lay there with your eyes closed, taking deep breaths. Flowery wipes the remainders of your tears off of your cheeks with his thumb. Time passes and keeps passing. Though keeping still helped at first, now, your condition keeps worsening. The fabric of your clothes clings to you because of your sweat, your body trembling and shivering in a desperate attempt to soothe what's ailing you. You wheeze out a breath through your lips.
The most pressing thing of all, however, is the incessant throbbing in between your legs. Slick has gathered there and soaked through your underwear. It's only because of how unwell you feel that you're not rubbing your thighs together. If you were capable of moving freely, you'd long since stuffed a hand down your pants and touched yourself. Now, you can only make the slightest movements with your hips. They achieve little more than making the bed creak.
"Are you…" Flowery trails off and you turn your head towards him, panting from the heat. You can hardly see his face to the haze of his tears, can only whine out his name.
"I'm a gentleman, buttercup. I'm not going to do anything like that when you are so clearly… Incapacitated."
But you only feel worse and worse by the minute, breathing turning laboured as you start to sob with little hiccups from the discomfort. You just feel really, really bad.
"Flo, Flowery…" you whine again, drawling out the final syllable. You try to move the hand he's still holding in the direction of your crotch. He lets out a shuddering breath.
"It isn't fading on it's own, is it? …I'll do it. I'll help." He goes quiet for a moment. "Flowers don't really do this, not like humans, so you'll have to tell me… Oh, you're not listening to a word I'm saying, are you?"
He lets out a soft, short laugh, hardly more than a puff of breath. "Heh. I'll just have to pay close attention. I'll do my best to take good care of you, okay?"
You can only manage to murmur out a string of 'yesyesyes', your overheated brain somehow managing to pick out a phrase it likes among what he's been saying.
Flowery doesn't reach out a hand to touch you. Instead, vines start to slither up the bed frame from underneath. He continues holding onto your hand and dabbing sweat away from your forehead, murmuring comforting nothings that go in one ear and out the other.
The vines are completely smooth, a dark green without any protrusions. Definitely no thorns, but nothing like leaves either. You squirm as they glide over your body. They're colder than your skin and provide a modicum of relief. The vines don't remove any of your clothes, merely sliding underneath them. Your hips jerk forcefully upwards as one of them grazes over the front of your soaked underwear.
Flowery hums in response. "How was that? Right there?" It takes a few seconds until it brushes over your clit again and you gasp, mouth hanging open as you breathe through the sensation.
"There we go." The tip of the vine slips underneath the wet fabric, prodding at your swollen clit.
Besides you, Flowery's staring at your lower body with a furrow in his brow. Each of the vines movements is calculated and he tries out different movements until settling on one that draws the most responses out of you. Every nerve in your body is alight with pleasure. You pull your head up ever-so-slightly, only to throw it back down in the pillow, as the vine curls around your clit, moving it up and down. You arch your back, hot puffs of breath passing through your open mouth.
"Thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou," you babble uselessly and then, without warning and much faster than ever before, an orgasm crashes into you.
Your pussy clenches down around nothing and more arousal leaks out of you, dirtying your underwear further. Another two tears leak out of your eyes. Flowery doesn't stop moving his vines for a second as the mind-numbing bliss just about makes your brain leak out of your ears until the pleasure fades away and oversensitivity takes its place.
You twist away, rubbing your head side to side on the pillow, shoulders pulled up high in discomfort. The vine immediately stills.
"Sorry, I'm sorry," Flowery sounds a little out of breath himself. "It was— I thought it was good."
"Great, yes, it was great," you gasp out, your reason returning to you in bits and pieces. "Just… Too much. Was good."
You take another few deep breaths. You feel a tad better, though you're not there quite yet. The fever has loosened your tongue.
"Lower, can you…?"
"Of course."
Flowery immediately listens, diverting the vine's attention away from your clit and moving it further down along your wet folds. You shudder as it brushes over your entrance and he takes that as an invitation, nudging the very tip of it inside. When you don't cry out in pain and buck your hips towards it instead, he pushes the vine further and further inside of you.
It's thin enough that it's barely a stretch as it moves inside you. That doesn't mean there's no such thing as too deep. Your teeth audibly clack together as it gets too close your cervix, and you wheeze in a breath through your nose. It immediately moves away and your body relaxes once again.
Your brain grows fuzzier and fuzzier again. Flowery, as he did before, gets bolder and experiments. Multiple vines are inside of you now, wrapped around each other into one bigger appendage that has you mindlessly drooling all over yourself with a lopsided smile on your face.
He's able to move the vines much more precisely than any cock or toy could be moved. Flowery pokes and prods your insides, slides in and out, tries to find a spot that'll elicit a particularly strong response from you. It's only a matter of time before he brushes against your g-spot.
"Oh, oh—" you gasp out, and that's all it takes to have Flowery focusing on that spot.
Once again, you're shaking all over, overwhelmed in both the best and the worst possible way. You feel so good and so awful at the same time. The conflicting feelings, alongside the thousands of neurons firing off inside your brain, overwhelm you until you're crying again. Flowery lets go off your hand, wrapping both of his arms around your upper body instead and cradling you against his chest.
His chest vibrates with comforting words that you can't make out over the blood roaring in your ears. The pressure of his chest, his hands squeezing your shoulders, it's still comforting. It's the only thing that seems to ground you to reality. Once again, you're pushed over the edge sudden and all at once, like getting struck by a bolt of lightning.
You're full-on sobbing again when it hits, body convulsing and clinging to Flowery like a lifeline. Black spots dot your vision. The vines inside you slow down as your pussy spasms around them and, before you fully realise what you're saying, you're gasping out the words:
"Thank you, I, I love you, love you so much, thank you—"
And then you promptly pass out.
When you wake up again, you feel like you got hit by a bus. Every muscle in your body is sore, your throat is parched, your clothes are sticking to your skin. You pat the area around your crotch and your face scrunches up as you immediately feel a sizable wet spot on your clothes.
Flowery is holding a leaf to your lips, feeding you clear, cool water.
"Welcome back. I went out to find the freshest morning dew I could find… How's it growing?"
It's clear he's trying to add some levity to this profoundly awkward situation. You don't really have the energy for it.
"Can I kill myself now?" You groan and push yourself up on shaky arms, throwing your similarly-unsteady legs over the side of the bed and sitting there, turned away from Flowery.
You're burning up again. Not with fever, like before, but nothing but unbridled humiliation. That whole thing would've already been bad enough, if you hadn't said… That. Or maybe you hadn't actually said it?? Maybe you only imagined that you did it?? God, you hope so.
"Never." There's no humour in Flowery's voice when he says it. You laugh awkwardly and you brush some petals off of your clothes, leaning on the frame as you get up from the bed.
"Okay, yeah, bad joke— I know, I know you don't like it when I say stuff like that." You shake your head as if that'll help clear your mind. "But, uh, I gotta go."
"Don't be silly. You're not going anywhere. You can barely stand." Wind blows in your face as soon as you take another step. A vine snags around your ankle.
You smile wryly to yourself. You hope that's a different one from the five or so that were crammed inside you approximately half an hour ago.
"You sure you don't want to talk about this? …You might regret it."
You grit your teeth. Well, there goes any hope of him not having heard your horny love confession. Fingernails dig into the palms of your hand. You'd much prefer it to never think of this again, much less address it out loud.
You've spend enough time around Flowery to know that he's always like this. To everyone. You're not special. And if you have to sit here and pour your heart out… You don't think you can handle him laughing, or some stupid quip. You've always known he's waaaay out of your league. He didn't do anything wrong. You're the one who got in over your head and caught feelings.
"…I don't think there's much to say."
"Heh. You were awfully chatty before." You raise your shoulders.
"I just— I don't think I can tell you! You'll just… You'll just laugh at me, won't you? Or have some funny response. I can't… I can't do that right now."
Flowery is silent for a moment. Then a few seconds longer.
"…You really think I'd do that? If you were honestly telling me about how you feel?" His voice is soft, quiet. There's an edge of hurt there that makes your chest grow tight, crushing your heart.
He lets out a sigh, the vine around your ankle tugs a little. "Won't you look at me?"
It takes you a few moments to muster the courage to turn around. You aren't sure what you had been expecting. The smile on his face is soft around the corners, his eyes half-lidded, revealing the golden gaze fixated on you.
Flowery extends his arm forward and does a little bow, though he keeps his distance from you. He straightens up again and opens his mouth.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, buttercup. I thought I had been clear enough, but… I'll tell you outright: Love in heart bloomed for you a long time ago." He tilts his head a little to the side. "I love you too."
You don't think he's joking. Or making fun of you. Not even when he does a dumb, stupid little twirl, the wind carrying flower petals in circles around him as his hair flows beautifully in the wind.
Slapping a hand over your mouth, you stare at him in silence for a good few seconds. Then, laughter bubbles up from your throat.
"You didn't just… Are you being serious right now?! You… You!!" You laugh again, a mixture of relief and pure joy and you plop down on your knees on the bed again.
"Yep, knew that would work. You're such a predictable creature." He's teasing, but there's also a clear amount of affection in his tone.
"You're awful." And then you're giggling again.
"…Buuuut? Isn't there something you wanna say to me?"
You've already said it once. How hard would it be to do it another time. Your face is burning up.
"…I, I love you, too."
Flowery's smile turns into a full-on grin and he laughs. Before you can even blink, he's on you, squeezing you against him in a tight hug. There'a blush on his face. The bright pink is in stark contrast to the rest of his skin, a couple of freshly-bloomed flowers peeking out from the collar of his shirt. He pinches your cheek between two of his fingers and tugs.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?"
You laugh, trying to brush his hand away.
"I'm sorry about that… Just now. I was rude, and I don't know… Scared, maybe?"
Flowery hums in response. He brushes his finger over the spot he just pinched you, soothing the skin.
"Mm, apology accepted. I can be a little bit nicer to you."
"Just a little bit?"
He pokes the tip of your nose. In your fantasies, he'd always been entirely composed during any type of confession, but he's clearly overjoyed. A flower sprouts right then and there from your skin, mirroring his own bright smile.
"Shush, before I change my mind."
You stand there, luxuriating in the warmth of your happiness, the closeness of Flowery. You laugh again, you simply can't help yourself.
"…Okay, this has been great, but I do really need a shower. And a nap."