A Series Of Patrick Stump Imagines

Fourth of July

A/N: I can't listen to Fourth of July without sobbing uncontrollably.
Key: Y/N- Your Name
          F/F- Favourite Flavour
          H/P/H- Harry Potter House

     I sat on my bed with a tub of F/F ice cream (A/N: or fro yo or sherbert or sorbet- whichever you prefer!) with my TV on. I was in a H/P/H t-shirt and gray sweatpants. My hair was messy, and my eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying. In other words, I looked horrific. Why? I was extremely sad. This day of last year, Patrick, my ex, dumped me. Life has gone on, though. I still do my everyday rountine. Fall Out Boy, Patrick's band, just finished tour and released a new album. I stared at the wall, reminiscing our breakup.

*Beginning of Flashback*
July 4th of Previous Year

I was sitting on my sofa watching the Harry Potter movies when I recieved a text. It was from Patrick.
❤️🎤🍰Pattycakes❤️: Hey, sweetie, could you come over today?
Me: Sure, baby, when?
❤️🎤🍰Pattycakes🍰🎤❤️: Now would be good if you're not busy.
Me: I'm just watching Harry Potter.
❤️🎤🍰Pattycakes🍰🎤❤️: Without me?😖😫😩😭😢😥😪😞😟😒😠
Me: Lolol, yes you goof. We can watch it together another time.
❤️🎤🍰Pattycakes❤️🎤🍰: *huff* Fine.
Me: I'll be at your place in ten, hon, okay?
❤️🎤🍰Pattycakes🍰🎤❤️: Alright, see you mi amor❤️❤️❤️
Me: See ya!😘😍❤️

When I rang the doorbell, Patrick flung the door open. "Hey, Y/N!"
"Hey, babe." I kissed him. "What's the story, morning glory?" (A/N: Anybody? No? Wow, you guys don't know?! You SICKEN me. Haha lolol JK. But seriously, ask your parents. If they watched musicals as a kid, they might know. If they watch movies with Ann Margret, they probably know.) I asked, following him to his living room. I curled up on the sofa in his arms.
"Uh, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something."
"Is it serious?"
"I suppose so."
"Uh-oh. Should I be worried?"
"Well, it depends..."
"Well, lay it on me. What's up, buttercup?"
"Well, you see... I feel like you've been really distant. You're a lot less talkative, and I see you a lot less. And you're answering my calls and texts a lot later that usual or sometimes never. Is something up?"
"Not that I know of. I'm perfectly healthy. Work is great."
"I mean, like..." Patrick took off his fedora, ran his fingers through hair (quite sexily, might I add😏😍), and put it (his fedora) back on. "There's no easy way to ask this, so I'm going to be blunt. Are you cheating on me?"
I wriggled out of his embrace and faced him."What?! How dare you-"
"Shhh, mi amor, please, calm-"
"Oh, don't you bloody mi amor me right now! Why would I bloody cheat on you?! And how is it that you of all bloody people would ask such a thing?!"
"I mean-"
"Oh, I'm not done talking yet!" I snapped."Why the bloody hell would I cheat on you! I love you! You've always been the sweetest, most kindhearted person to me. Ever! You've always been there for me, and you've always taken care of me. Why the actual fucking bloody hell would I cheat on you?! How could you think of such an absurd idea?! Why would you even bloody consider it for a bloody moment?!"
"You're starting to sound a bit like Ron right now, with the bloody this and bloody that," Patrick muttered.
"Di immortales, Patrick, I'm serious! Why the actual fucking bloody fucking bloody hell would you think I am cheating on you?! I've been distant because I've been working on a big project for work! In fact, I'm not even going to finish my bloody movie marathon or go to the fireworks tonight because I have work in three hours, which is basically the length of one movie! If you felt like something was wrong, why didn't you just bloody ask?!"
"I just did ask."
"I don't need your Pattitude right now!" I snarled."And you didn't ask me if something was wrong, you asked me if I was bloody cheating on you!"
"I wasn't quite sure how to ask you."
"You should've just been honest! You should've just asked me why I seemed more distant, not bloody ask something that sounded so bloody accusatory! Gods, I can't believe you, Patrick! I would never, ever do something so bloody wrong! You're my bloody everything!"
"Maybe you should stop watching Harry Potter."
"Enough with bloody Harry Potter! This is about you and me! Gods, I'm going to fucking-"
"Look, Y/N, I am really sorry that I offended you, but don't you think you're kind of... overreacting?"
My expression changed from disbelief to rage."How dare you," I said in a low voice, like I did when I was mad,"how bloody dare you tell me I'm bloody ovverreacting because you bloody asked me if I was having affairs behind your back. Do I honestly seem like the type of bloody person who would do such a bloody thing? I've always loyal to you, and you dare ask me if I'm bloody cheating on you?!"
"Y/N, if you're going to overreact every time I ask a not-so-nice question, maybe we should break up,"Patrick suggested, rubbing his temples in frustration.
It was like a slap in the face. "You said what now?"
"I said that we should break up."
"You want to bloody break up because you don't like the way I'm bloody reacting to an offensive question?"
Patrick crossed his arms."This isn't the first time you've overreacted over little things."
     "Little things?!" I cried. "This isn't a bloody little thing! I don't think you bloody realize what cheating on someone is, and how offensive such a bloody question to someone who wouldn't dream of being disloyal to her lover!"
"Okay, we're through. You're seriously getting on my nerves."
Another slap to the face."Look, Patrick, I very well bloody know that I can be dramatic, but I'm a freaking scriptwriter, director, and novelist, so I don't know what the bloody hell you bloody expected when you asked me out."
Patrick opened his front door. "Goodbye, Y/N. Thanks for the memories."
I stepped over the thresh hold and turned around."You'd better get your priorities straight and figure out where your loyalties lie, Stump, ir mark my words, this won't be the last mistake you make."
Patrick rolled his eyes and slammed the door. I climbed into my car and drove home. When I got there (home), I curled up on my sofa and bawled my eyes out. When I calmed down a little bit, I decided to phone my brother, Pete.
"Pete?" I whimpered when he picked up. "Can you come over now. Please?"
"What's wrong, Y/N?" He asked in a concerned tone.
"Please, Pete, I need you."
"I'll be over ASAP, kiddo, okay? Don't do anything stupid."
I laughed bitterly."This is coming from you?"
"Haha, I'm sticking my tongue out at you right now."
"I'm sure you are. You've always been a little more immature."
"A little? Y/N, do you even know me?"
Normally, I would've giggled, but was not in the greatest mood, so I simply sighed."See you when you get here."
Ten minutes later, I heard Pete call out."Y/N?"
"In my room."
Pete walked in and sat beside me."You shouldn't leave your front door unlocked."
I shrugged.
"What's wrong, kid?"
"Patrick. H-he-" I started sobbing again. I couldn't help it.
Pete pulled me into a hug."He what?"
"He broke up with me," I sobbed.
"He what?!"
Through tears, I explained what happened. When I was finished, Pete looked like he was going to punch the wall."I swear in the name of eyeliner, I am going to fucking murder him for disrespecting you."
I just whimpered.
"I cannot believe he would say that. He is so going to pay."
"It's f-fine, Pete."
"No, it's not!" He snarled.
I shrank away from him and cried harder.
Pete softened."I'm sorry, am I scaring you?"
No reply.
He pulled me back into his embrace."I'm sorry, Y/N. It's just... you guys have been dating for as long as I can remember."
I wailed."Don't remind me!"
"Sorry, sorry. Do you want me to go beat him up?"
I shook my head."Don't hurt him."
"He needs to fucking pay."
"Talk to him, but don't hurt him."
"Come on." Pete carried me to the passenger seat of his car, then jumped into the drivers' seat. "We're going to go talk to him."
"No, I don't want to see him!"
"I'm not letting him come over, and I need to keep an eye on you, so we're going to go over to his place and sort this out."
"I don't need to be babysat."
"Do you remember senior year of high school for you? We are not repeating that episode."
I shut up after he said that. Senior year was horrid. I tried commiting suicide because the guy I'd been dating since freshman year beat me up before he'd so rudely dumped me.
When we arrived at Patrick's place, Pete ordered me to stay in the car. He went to ring the doorbell. Patrick answered the door. They stood there on the porch arguing until Pete threw his hands in the air in what I assumed was exasperation and joined me in the car again, slaming the car door behind him.
"What did he say?" I asked.
"I don't think I should-"
     "What did he say?!"
"He just came up with a bunch of lame-ass excuses. He doesn't deserve you, so forget about it, okay? Let's just chill at your place for a while, kiddo."
I stared out my window.
"Y/N, I'm really sorry."
"Me too."