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IN WHICH, patrick feely simply wants to hear about your day with zero interruptions or pauses
TW/THEMES, fingering, cuss words
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℘atrick feely situates upon the freshly washed lace trim bedsheets adorning his girls notoriously soft n’ cozy room, legs gently splayed out, head resting lazily against the oak plated headframe. indolently solidated within that calm solation of bliss, the ooey gooey kind in which seemed to leave his eyes filtrated within that gentle awe coaxed from the simple daze of your presence.
with his girl hopelessly clung onto his lap, reinforming him on all of the meaningless copious amounts of drama of the day?
hell, bliss barely even began to cover the mere quarter of what he felt when he was with you. loudly exclaimed remembrances of the days occurrences or otherwise.
the sable haired lad hadnt spoken within the last five minutes, or verbally, at least. though, his thumbs trace mindless patterns along the skin teasingly poking out upon your hips, the occasional hum & mumble of recognition or acknowledgement flowing from those pretty rouge tinted lips of his showcased the notion that his attention was soley on you.
it was always on you, consciously aware to you or otherwise.
''and then, get this, pa. this is where it gets strange''
you giggle, your fingers gently wrapping around his wrist, thumb briefly caressing the skin above his wrist, a nonverbal plea of continuation for his touch, enough to make his breath hitch ever so lightly.
okay, maybe he wasnt fully conceptualizing your words anymore.
he hums, tilting his head ever so lightly towards the left degree, eyes roaming along your expression, taking in every gorgeous fraction within a precision that screamed you no longer held his full attention.
well. your words didnt, anyhow.
you continue rambling, informing him on one of several run ins your mutual friend lizzie young retained with notorious snake bella wilkinson, outlining the bitter, almost comically cruel words shared between the pair, unbenknownst to his mental gawking and the drifting of attention, blissfully ignorant towards the most innocent formats.
he knows this, the boy knows you like the back of his hand. one lingering touch is all it takes, and boy, is he more than willing to use it towards his own advantage.
''i reckon lizzie proper scared 'er, she froze up the second the C word left ‘er lips. but i dunno if it were shock, maybe? or surely it wouldve been sheer an-''
you begin to ramble on, though your words end prematurely within the reasoning of feeling patricks delicously calloused fingertips smoothing up and down the soft skin of your pretty bare thighs, inching higher upon each drawl like the teasing little shite he is.
and just like that? your thoughts had dicipated out the window almost immediately. your cheeks flushed within that fair shade of pink that had always made patricks heart race within a smug haughtiness, physicalising within an equally as smug smirk coating that teasingly gorgeous mouth of his.
and smugly smirking he indeed was.
“hm, wouldve been what, pretty?”
he teases, ridiculed within feigned innocence, head tilted & eyebrows gently furrowed to proclaim the act furthermore.
though the way his hand slipped underneath the plaid fabric of your skirt, paired with the tantalising smirk still stubbornly glazed upon his lips showcased he was anything but innocent.
after all, innocence & patrick feely never seemed to work hand in hand.
your eyes sheepishly slide away from his gaze as you bite down on your lower lip, swallowing a choked breath within its hold as you attempt to ground yourself, desperately linking what you were priorly speaking about.
“oh! um….. anger? i dont know, but, what i do know, is she ran off sulkin’ ‘bout lizzie bein’ a supposed bitch, dumb scowl on her face an’ all”
you manage to speak as you slowly regain your bearings, nodding perhaps too hastily as you recall the moment.
only for his skilled hands to slither higher. higher. and higher. teasingly creeping up an inch, another inch, and another. high enough that his finger managed to gently trace the outline of lace outlining your panties, the soft pink delicate against his calloused skin, working a delicious contrast.
the noise that escaped from your parted lips was immediate, practically inevitable, really. his tone was pure sin, all husk & smug knowing, his hands only adding the illicit cherry ontop.
it was bound to happen. and this was a fact the boy cherished entirely.
silence flows through the air for a beat or two, your eyes still glancing away from his own, knowing you wouldnt be able to keep your cheeks less than rosy if you met those sultry eyes.
again, it was inevitable. and you werent interested in giving in just yet.
“cmon, baby. keep talkin’”
he lowly coos within a soft husk, his firm hands softly gripping the duo of your thighs, leaning all the more closer, enough so his nose gently bumped against your own, a far cry of an accidental touch.
“or has the cat got y’ tongue?”
he smirks, his tone smug & as knowing as ever, cementing the fact that he knew he had you within the palm of his hand, a pile of puddy at that.
you shake your head, slowly, revertently. lips parted & cheeks flushed within that pretty shade of pink patrick adored. you were so visibly flushed from his tone alone, and that only made the boy all the more satisfied.
“then keep goin’, baby. don’t let me stop you”
he quips, leaning back against the headboard, smirk still as stubborn as ever, eyes gleaming of that belly tingling mischief they always had seemed to hold within such arrangements.
he wasnt finished, it was only the beginning.
“um, well. i think, after that, lizzie called er’ a skank as she trotted off, stuck up the finger t’ ‘er backside”
you continue, sheepishly so than prior, still clearly dazed from what was happening, despite his wandering hands halting, you knew it was only for the time being.
and like clockwork, they began once more the second you resumed your storytelling.
you begin to speak, your words falling of within a shaky gasp as his fingers move downwards, closer, calloused fingertips teasingly tracing along the dampened edges of where you needed him most.
god, where he needed you most.
he raises his eyebrows as your words still within the air, nonverbally conveying distaste, awaiting for you to presume as his fingers mirror the plea, halting within their entirety.
you began to understand the game he was beginning to orchestrate, and you werent exactly sure if it wanted to make you whine & beg or kiss him all the more.
“bella, just.. just threw the bird back over ‘er s-shoulder”
you breathe out, words inevitably shaky, almost gasped within a sense.
he whispers, low & sultry, knowing exactly the maddening game he was so carefully crafting, his fingers still soothing gentle, feather light traces along the middle of your panty clad core, the touch barely physical, though more than enough to make you shiver and gasp underneath his touch.
you simply shake your head within response, biting down on your lower lip as you scoot all the more closer, desperately seeking that sweet friction he was teasingly on the brink of providing, though far too dazed to say it aloud.
or, hell, any words aloud, for the manner.
his fingers halt again, causing a soft, involuntary whine to slip from your lips, beginning to understand this game he was orchestrating far too well.
you speak, his hands continue to move just within the way you wanted.
your words halt? his hands halt alongside it.
simple, teasing, smug. and so unbelievably patrick.
“nah uh, pretty girl. keep tellin’ y’story”
he murmurs lowly, fingers resting upon the hem of your panties.
still, far too still for your liking.
hell, even his own liking, if were being completely honest.
but he was a stubborn boy whom found simple enjoyment out of watching you squirm & beg for his touch, he couldn’t seem to help himself.
it took a couple seconds for you to regain your thoughts, the silence between you brief, but inherently palpable. you resume your storytelling, slowly incorporating back into the part in which lizzie had seemingly disppeared for hours, only to magically reappear with Hughie before the final bell could ring.
and on cue, his illicit fingers recommence their teasing diversion.
he husks as his calloused index digit finally dips underneath the restricting fabric of those god forsaken panties, seeming to oppose against the smug restriction hed outcasted upon you both within the last degree.
though, your mind seemingly breaks against his teasing charade the second his fingers slide into your soaked folds, a shaky gasp falling from your now parted lips, forehead gently thunking against his shoulder due to the haze he’d created.
you shake your head, swallowing an inevitably choked breath, working up the mental capacity to even formulate words.
and thats when his fingers stop. yet again, to your demise.
“pa, baby, please. y’know i go dumb when y’touch me like this”
you whine, peering up at him through the eyelashes of your half lidded, hazy eyes, a soft pout glazing those needy lips of yours.
he smirks at that, of course he does. theres nothing patrick feely loves more than seeing his girl in his lap, all needy & squirmy for him.
“i just wanna hear about your day, pretty girl”
he lowly coo’s within that velvet husk, mirroring your pout, though within an almost taunting sense, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.
“s’that such a hard thing to ask for?”
he asks within feigned innocence, putting on his best case of indifference, though knowing youd be able to see through it.
you shake your head within a shaky huff, arms looping around his shoulder as you nuzzle yourself deeper into his neck, almost to hide away from his teasing lit.
his fingers reigned stubbornly still, causing your brows to furrow as deep as possible, something you were thankful he couldnt seem to see due to you being nuzzled so close against him.
but you knew he could practically feel it. he knew your mannerisms & reactions like the back of your hand.
“a-after that, i jus’ went back t’class, i texted lizzie, but she didnt respond, as expe- oh.”
you begin to inform, though your words prematurely end within the form of a shaky moan, timed within perfect precision as patricks fingers finally give you the friction you so desperately craved, slowly spreading you open with his index and middle finger, your hips lightly bucking into the touch as a result.
“wasnt so hard, was it, huh, baby?”
he grins, the satisfied lit coaxing his tongue within the most maddening way possible, enough to cause your walls to gently flutter around him.
teasing little shite knew it was hard. so hard that impossible felt as if it were a well endowed understatement of the century.
you shake your head, mumbling a breathy “no” within response, though apart of you estimated that the simple murmured disagreement wasn’t enough for him.
he needed more. he always needed more.
as if on cue, his fingers halt their motion inside you, lips dropping to gently graze over the tender shell of your ear, tone dropping low & hoarse as he indiscrepently whispers,
“keep going or ill stop.”
stern, serious. far too serious for your liking.
you knew he wasnt bluffing, and god, you didnt even want to consider rebelling against him by testing it.
“i went t’class, uhm, home economics, with gibs”
you nod, desperately attempting to outline the remembrances of the day accurately, though the task felt unachievable within the circumstances. his words spoken against the shell of your ear doing no favours what so ever.
“mm, an’ what happened in home ec, pretty?”
he casually questions as if his fingers hadnt resumed their motions, dragging slow, torturous thrusts up and down those silky walls of yours, not giving you the speed in which he knew you desperately craved.
“me an’, an’… gibs made some chilli thing, i couldnt tell ya what on earth it was supposed t’be”
you begin to slowly retell, your breath hitching as his fingers finally pick up the pace, earning a shaky moan to leave your parted lips.
that was all it took for your mind to grow hazy again, but the idea of halting your words, him halting the movements of those blessed fingers felt like the worst possible outcome, you knew you simply had no other option but to keep filling the silence.
“everyone else had s-some red coloured dish in their pot, ours was orange, then managed t’turn brown by the-“
you outline, though your whole body jolts as his fingertips crook upwards, beginning to target the spongey space within you that had lurged you to see stars, each and everytime.
you gasp out, earning a shaky chuckle of awe to fall from the boys lips, his free hand travelling into the back of your silky locks, gently tugging you towards his own eye level.
“shh, i know, baby. keep goin’ f’me”
he purrs as he keeps up the maddening caress, though adding in another enticer as his lips begin to suck & kiss pretty shades along your neck, simultaneously marking & worshipping your body.
you nod within a shaky breath, your eyes rolling back as yet another moan falls from your seemingly permanent o shaped lips, swallowing harshly before resuming the god forsaken chilli tale once more,
“w-was supposed ta’ have cubed carrots, but g-gibs tried t’cut them int-, into heart shapes, h-he ended up cuttin’ his finger an’ gettin’ em all bloody s-so we had t’throw em’ all out”
you retell, though not without a plea of gasps & shaky breaths ruining the storytelling, the way in which your thighs begin to shake either side of his working fingers showcasing how far gone you were.
how little you could even consider caring about telling the story without paused breaths & shaky gasps.
he hums within response, the noise muffled against your neck as he picks up the pace once more, simply to see how much of a brainless mess he could formulate you into, how much he could seem to make you stumble on those strange words of yours.
it wasnt about stopping & starting anymore. it was simply about how easily he could make your words slur & make your mind blissfully blur together.
and god, was it working exactly how he’d planned.
your hands slide into the back of his dark locks, gently gripping as your forehead drops against his shoulder all over, though neck still gently arched for his consumption.
“g-god, pa, please don’ stop”
you cry out as his fingers crook ever so slightly deeper, causing the familar build of heat grow all the more harsher, all the more faster, practically consuming you all at once.
he husks out as his lips detach from your deliciously marked neck within a sharp pop!, meeting your gaze through his own half lidded one, smirk still as stubbornly strong as ever.
his lips capture your own within a messy kiss, his fingers working faster, reckless, causing your moans to muffle against his mouth within audacious abandon, just the way he liked.
your fingers grip harshly onto his hair as you feel the heat pillow faster, overwhelming the entirety of your lower belly, all before snapping within its full capacity, your body shuddering through harsh waves as patrick swallows each & every moan of yours, savouring it for himself.
his fingers continue to work you throughout your high, only seeming to gradually slow as your grip upon him grows lax, only halting all together as your forehead falls back against his shoulder within panted, wrecked breaths.
all needy and ruined. just how he liked you.
he slowly pulls his fingers out of you, taking them towards his lips before lapping your release up within a pleased hum, his eyes falling shut at the taste of you, something he’d grown far too addicted too.
his free hand makes its way back into your hair, gently twirling a thin strand around his fingertips, lips leaning close against your temple once he’d acquired his four course meal, pressing an inherently tender kiss upon the skin as he soaks you in.
“so s’ safe ta’ say you had a right good day, yeah?”
he teases, grinning down at you within cartoonist heart eyes of awe, though still as satisfied as ever within himself for coaxing you into such a needy flush.
you scoff within a sheepish giggle at his blatant teasing, shaking your head within an equal mix of fondness & amusement as your arms loop firmer around him, hiding yourself deeper into his skin.
