Kinktober ✔️

PUMPKIN PATCH - Gigi Perez

P U M P K I N P A T C H:
where pumpkins grow duh

( GIGI PEREZ X FEMALE READER )
a/n: pure fluff again with those warm, October vibes

Y/N's POV:

The air smelled like cinnamon and hay. I could see my breath when I laughed-small, cloudy bursts that floated away as Gigi held her phone up, squinting at the front camera.

"Okay, one more selfie." She said, grinning as she leaned her head against mine. Her curls brushed my cheek, soft and warm even in the chilly air.

"You said that five selfies ago." I teased, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Yeah, but this one's for real." She insisted, snapping the photo before I could protest. She giggled when she looked at it. "You look so cute. Like, annoyingly cute."

I rolled my eyes but smiled anyway. "You're just saying that because you like me."

She shrugged, still scrolling through the photos. "Guilty."

It was mid-October, the leaves bright orange and scattered all over the ground like someone had spilled a giant box of crayons. The pumpkin patch was buzzing with families, couples, and kids running around with sticky caramel apples. Somewhere in the distance, a country song played through the speakers, and I could smell roasted corn.

Gigi reached for my hand-her fingers were cold, but she laced them with mine like it was second nature. "Come on, let's find the perfect pumpkin."

I raised a brow. "Perfect? You realize that's a high-stakes mission, right?"

She laughed and started walking between rows of pumpkins, tugging me along. The afternoon sun was soft and gold, catching in her brown eyes every time she turned toward me. Gigi in autumn was something out of a dream-oversized plaid jacket, beanie halfway falling off, cheeks pink from the cold.

We passed a few pumpkins, and she crouched to examine one that was barely the size of a cantaloupe. "This one looks like it's smiling."

"That's mold." I said.

She gasped dramatically. "You're heartless."

"You're picking favorites with produce!"

We both burst out laughing, and for a moment, I forgot about the other people around us. It was just her voice, warm and full of life, echoing through the field.

Eventually, she found one-big, round, perfectly orange. "This one's it." She said, tapping the side proudly.

I leaned down beside her. "You're sure? We can't mess up. This is sacred fall business."

She gave me a look, her lips curving into that mischievous half-smile I loved. "I'm positive. Look at the symmetry. It's like... the pumpkin version of me."

I laughed so hard I nearly fell over. "You're comparing yourself to a gourd now?"

"Not just any gourd," she said, standing up and brushing dirt off her jeans. "A beautiful one."

"Yeah, yeah." I muttered, but my grin betrayed me.

We carried the pumpkin together, both of us holding one side as we walked toward the checkout stand. Her shoulder bumped mine every few steps, and I could feel the warmth of her body even through our coats.

"So what are we doing with it?" I asked. "Carving? Painting? Sacrificing to the autumn gods?"

She laughed. "Painting, obviously. I don't trust either of us with knives."

"That's fair." I said, remembering the last time we tried to cook together and almost set the kitchen on fire.

When we reached the counter, she insisted on paying even though I tried to pull out my wallet. "My treat." She said, handing the cash to the older man at the register.

I raised an eyebrow. "You're buying me a pumpkin now? That's like, the most romantic fall gesture ever."

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she shrugged again, that shy smile slipping out. "Guess I'm just setting the bar high."

Once we were done, we found a quiet picnic table near the edge of the patch. The sun was starting to dip, and everything turned a deeper shade of orange. Gigi took a sip of her hot cider, then slid it toward me. "Try it."

I took a sip-and immediately winced. "Oh my god, that's so sweet."

She giggled. "Exactly how I like it."

I groaned. "You're impossible."

She leaned her chin in her hand, watching me with that soft, amused look she always got when I pretended to be annoyed. "You love it."

And I did. Way more than I wanted to admit out loud.

We painted the pumpkin with tiny brushes from the craft booth-her side had goofy eyes and a smile with vampire fangs. Mine had little stars and hearts. She said it looked like something out of a kids' book, but she smiled when she said it.

"Do you realize we're probably the only adults here without kids?" I asked, wiping paint off my fingers.

"Who cares?" She said, pressing a tiny heart sticker on my cheek. "We're the coolest ones here."

I couldn't argue with that.

By the time the sky turned dusky purple, we were sitting on the tailgate of her car, our pumpkin between us. She played music quietly on her phone-some soft indie song-and I leaned my head on her shoulder.

She wrapped her arm around me, pulling me closer. "You cold?"

"Little bit." I murmured.

"Good thing I came prepared." She reached into her bag and pulled out a spare hoodie. "Here. It smells like me, so you're welcome."

I laughed, slipping it on. It was oversized and cozy, and she was right-it smelled like her perfume, like vanilla and something floral.

"Perfect." I said softly.

We sat there in comfortable silence for a while, watching the last of the sunset fade behind the trees. The laughter of kids in the distance mixed with the crunch of leaves beneath people's shoes.

Then Gigi turned to me, her hand finding mine again. "You know," she said quietly, "I don't think it's the pumpkin that's perfect."

I looked up at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

Her thumb brushed across my knuckles. "It's this. Us. Days like this. It feels... right."

My heart did that stupid flutter thing it always did when she got sincere like that. I smiled, cheeks burning. "You're such a sap."

She laughed softly. "You love that too."

"Yeah." I admitted, leaning in until our foreheads touched. "I really do."

She smiled against my lips before kissing me-slow, warm, like she wanted the moment to last forever. The world around us went quiet, just the faint hum of crickets and the scent of fall all around.

When we finally pulled away, she whispered, "Told you this would be the perfect pumpkin patch date."

I grinned, brushing a bit of orange paint off her cheek. "You were right."

And for once, I didn't mind admitting it.