hii!! can i request some fluff for patrick feely x reader? thank you 💗
note ⸝⸝⸝ it’s meant to be awkward.. someoje pray for me to finish my masterlist alr
summary ⸝⸝⸝ you catch feely in his natural habitat . . .
warnings ⸝⸝⸝ none?
one thing you’ll always fall for are farmboys. not all farmboys — obviously. just the certain ones who have that distinct, specific kind of charm. the soft ones. the kind that plays guitar and looks into your eyes while he does.
you’ve had a crush on patrick feely — the boy next door who visits his family’s farm from time to time. and every time he does, you fall all over again. it’s like he’s got this red string wrapped around you. his presence makes you feel safe. the way he helps you with chores outside, how one of you would “accidentally” brush fingers.
and this was one of those times. you heard your mum calling for you to come outside. you groaned, already knowing she probably wanted you to say hi to some distant relative you barely remember. not even bothering to change out of your superman pjs, you rub your eyes and walk toward the front door, wide open, and step onto the porch. and there she is, standing next to the guy you’ve quite literally been dreaming about for years.
they’re both standing outside, your mum’s smile wide, and patrick turns to look at you — eyes scanning you up and down. you snap out of your sleepy trance, realizing you’re wearing the worst possible outfit. your face burns with embarrassment as he smirks.
“now i’ll leave you two kids alone. and next time, dress more appropriately, sweetie,” your mum says, winking as she walks toward her car. your face flushes even more at her comment.
when your eyes flicker back to him, he’s still staring. “hey,” he says softly, walking up the porch stairs, closing the distance.
“hi, patrick,” you mumble, eyes darting away to avoid his.
“ya miss me?” he asks, leaning back against the porch railing, like he’s settling in.
“do i have to answer that question..?” you reply, tilting your head slightly. he chuckles, glancing at your pajamas again.
“ya know, i actually missed you and your strange outfits. only thing that makes me feel like i’m really home. comforts me in a way.”
you roll your eyes, giggling. “sure, feely. superman pjs are peak therapy,” you say sarcastically.
he grins, stepping a little closer. “‘m serious though. i missed ya.”
your heart pounds like it’s trying to break free from your chest. how can one boy throw off your whole heartbeat like that? is that normal?
you step back slightly, shaking your head. but before you can say anything, he clears his throat. “— well. i gotta get to work now, but i’ll see you later?” he asks, like he already knows the answer.
“obviously. my mum’s probably gonna make me bring you bottles of milk again, like always…”
he laughs, nods, and disappears down the porch steps, out of sight. suddenly the air feels thinner without him there. dramatic, maybe, but his presence just changes something in you. you glance down at your outfit one last time, then bolt inside to get ready for later.
your boots that were once shiny — are now caked with dirt and hay as you make your way toward feely’s barnhouse, carrying a box of glass-bottled milk.
when you step inside, your eyes immediately land on him. his arm wipes sweat from his forehead, muscles flexing as he finishes stacking hay. he grabs his water and gulps it down. you can’t help but smile — he looks exhausted, eyebrows drawn tight.
as you approach, his head turns, finally noticing you. his face softens instantly. he wipes his mouth and smiles. “what are ya doin here?”
“watchin feely in his natural habitat,” you say, holding up the bottles like a trophy. he takes one, and you set the rest down, wiping your hands on your jeans.
but his eyes don’t leave yours. he doesn’t even open the bottle, all his focus is on you. “false. ‘m natural habitat is being with ya.”
your eyes widen a little as he steps closer, gently setting the bottle down. his fingers brush yours, searching for something. your permission, maybe.
neither of you says a word. your fingers just slowly intertwine. your breathing syncs, the only sound between you two is the pounding of your hearts.
his free hand rises, landing on your jaw so gently. “i think i’ll die if i don’t kiss you right now,” he breathes.
“then do it,” you whisper, lips barely apart.
he leans in and kisses you — soft, slow, like time’s been waiting for this moment. your hand finds his face, the other still in his.
you both pull away just enough to catch your breath. “i’ve been waiting for that,” you whisper. “a while now.”
“and i’ve been waiting just to touch your hand since the day i met you,” he says, breathless. “i like you. more than i know how to say.”
“i like you too, feely. always will.”
he presses his forehead against yours, still holding you like you’re made of glass — like he’s afraid to let go of you.
“my boy next door.”
“my girl next door.”
all you can think right now is that thank god, for those milk bottles.
© tomm6n — please don’t steal or repost my work 💌
