Patrick Stump x Reader

Pretty in Punk

Although you were practically broke since you didn't have time for a job with all your studying, you still enjoyed music. It was probably your favourite thing. You couldn't buy any, but somehow, being in a record store really helped you relax.

Exams were tough; you barely had time to sleep let alone go outside. But finally, after lots of blood, sweat and tears, you'd made it. After all the constant study and no procrastination, they were over.

It'd been a while since you last when to the record store. Several months, in fact now that you thought about it. God, time really went by fast.

The smell of vinyl, the feel of cardboard covers and the atmosphere of being surrounded by music were all familiar to you and things you missed.

Calmness went over you as soon as you stepped into the large store. You could feel a smile spread across your face. There was so much more music to explore.

As soon as you handed in your final test, you ran home to change before revisiting one of your favourite places. You wore what you always did: ripped jeans, random top you got off of your dad with a red flannel over it embellished with some badges you found somewhere in a thrift store. Your straight hair messily fell over your face, causing you to constantly adjust your fringe to be able to see properly.

Feeling stares from some other girls, dressed in crop tops and shorts, you ignored them as you made your way to the Punk section. You'd forgotten that they also hung out here, the way they snobbishly chose their repetitive pop albums. You could hear off-key singing, screeching actually, as they sang along to some copy-and-paste pop song being played over the speakers.

Make it stop, please, you silently prayed. Thankfully it did. Suddenly, the sound of electric guitars filled your ears. It was a change, a good one, to whatever rubbish was on before. It was strange, hearing something you actually liked. The other girls clearly weren't happy with it. They worked here too and always chose what song was on. A smirk crawled onto your lips.

It sounded amazing, until the vocals came on. You had no idea what he was saying but you knew one thing, this guy was going through puberty. The chorus took you by surprise, to say the least. It wasn't bad, you were unconsciously nodding along, but it sounded really rusty. A new band, you were assuming. Punk, all right.

You had to know who they were, especially the singer. You shyly walked towards the counter, looking for someone to ask. A black-haired guy, seeming to be in his early twenties, greeted you. His hair was flat, covering one of his dark eyes. He seemed to be the exact person you were looking for.

"Hey, I'm Pete! What can I help you with?" he suddenly asked, causing you to jump as you stared at the tattoo that peeked out from his t-shirt collar.

"Uh, I'm Y/N. I just was wondering about the song that was just on," you inquired, "The one with really awesome guitars? I just wanted to know who the singer was, if you don't mind."

As soon as you told him, his eyes lit up and he gave out a chuckle. "Patrick! There's a cute girl here asking about you," he yelled out.

Awkwardly, a short boy around a year older, shuffled from out of the back room. He glanced up at you and quickly returned his eyes to the ground. "Um, what were you calling me for?" he asked in a soft voice, adjusting his glasses.

"Y/N here was asking about the singer of Fall Out Boy. She must've thought you were pretty good in Pretty in Punk, right?"

You nodded, taking it in. He didn't look like a singer, definitely not a punk one.

"Um, I'm Patrick Stumph but you can just call me Patrick. Pete and I started some stupid band with another guys called Fall Out Boy," he introduced himself, "We just did Green Day covers and somehow, now we have a shitty album."

"It's shitty but it's amazing. 'Evening Out With Your Girlfriend, you should really get it. I play bass by the way and you actually can call him Lunchbox, he loves that," Pete had a really obnoxious laugh and spoke quickly with excitement.

"Eating Out Your Ex-Girlfriend?" You thought it was a strange title. Pete thought it was hilarious but Patrick handed you a copy showing you its actual name.

Giving him a small smile you admitted that you would love it but had barely any money. How awkward would it be to constantly meet them and not buy anything? Still, a part of you wished to be able to talk to them, see them more often and get to know them.

"Alright then," Pete said, taking the record and scanning it in despite your objections, "We'll have a deal then. I'll buy you this and any other album you'd like, as long as you come over to see us and Lunchbox play sometime, deal?"

"Really, it's not a problem. I could probably come back next time and be able to pay for it. You guys seem absolutely amazing but you're too kind," you started but was cut off.

"We usually play to one kid at a time so you'd be really helping us out," said Patrick, reaching for his wallet, "Is there anything else you'd like?"

Shaking your head, you thanked them both over and over again causing them to laugh. You felt bad but made a promise to support their band as much as you could.

As you left the store, Pete jogged up to you, handing you a piece of paper, "Almost forgot." It had, in black messy handwriting, their phone numbers. He cheekily winked as you folded the ripped notebook page and held onto it tightly. Before walking back inside, he waved, yelling out, "Don't forget!"

You had a feeling Fall Out Boy was no ordinary band but were they sure more than you bargained for.