Patrick Stump Imagines/Oneshots

The One In Which Pete Is A Douchebag

Trigger warning: mentions of self harm. This one is really long, and took itself on its own little adventure. It's not the best, and also sorry Pete's such a piece of shit in this one. He's not going to be the same in future ones, but as I said this one just took itself where it wanted to go. Enjoy!xx

***

"PATRICK!"
*smash*
"HOLY SMOKES PETE YOU SCARED ME!"

I open my eyes and sigh. I'm lucky to get any sleep here. I love Patrick and Pete, I really do, but they get up so early.

Rubbing my blurry eyes, I pulled on my dressing gown. After 2 and a half years of living with Patrick you'd think I'd be used to getting up this early, but no. I'm part sloth, I swear.

"Hello." I say as I enter the kitchen, surveying the room. Pete was standing by the sink trying not to laugh his arse off, but Patrick stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the kitchen floor. Looking up, I saw a look of worry but also guilt on my boyfriend's face. He looked like a little lost puppy.

I made eye contact with Pete and began to say "What was that?" but before I got to the second word I was cut off with a, "Good morning, Bear." and Patrick pulling me in to a tight hug. I hugged him back and said, "I don't care what you've broken, as long as you clear it up honey."

"Honey is for bees, Silly Bear." he whispered to me. Pete made faux retching sounds.

Spinning out of Patrick's embrace, I interlocked my fingers with his and turned around so I could see the mess. Three plates and a mug had been dropped on the floor.

"What happened?" I asked, smiling at how worried Patrick had got over something that didn't really matter.

"Pete scared me. And I dropped stuff." Patrick shuffled awkwardly whilst Pete laughed.

Turning to face Pete I said, "Okay, don't worry about it, it's not the end of the world. You can clear that up, Pete, while I go have a shower." Pete and Patrick laughed.

"What?"

"Your accent!" they said in unison.

"What about it?"

"It's so-" they both began

"Weird." Pete said

"Adorable." Patrick finished.

"Yeah, I'd rather take 'adorable'." I said, turning away.

I currently live in Chicago, but I was born and raised in the south east of England, in a little town by the sea (apart from when I spent four years at the age of three to seven in Los Angeles). As a result I have an odd accent- it's majorly English, but I do say some words like an American. Apparently I'm 'very British', as Pete likes to call me. I have brown/black hair, a round face and large eyes. In my eyes I'm not in the least bit attractive, but according to Patrick I'm 'as cute as a button'. I'm quite short, which Patrick is grateful for, and kind of chubby. My name is Megan Winster. Patrick calls me 'Silly Bear' which I think is cringely cute, and sometimes he'll call me 'Meggy" but only really when he wants something. Pete calls me 'Meg', 'Winsey' or 'the Megster' which he thinks is hilarious.I don't really care what people call me, as long as it's not something rude.

As I'm standing in the shower, I hear Pete cackling and Patrick shouting, "SHUT UP." Their whole relationship is just them winding each other up, which I think is one of the best types of friendship. I do hear the clinking of china, which means that the mess is getting cleaned up.

I jumped out of the shower and pulled on some clothes- some sweat pants and one of Patrick's t-shirts. I dried my hair and readjusted my parting, letting my fringe fall lazily over my face. I ran my fingers through my hair and messed it up slightly, making the layers cascade more freely into one another. I pinned my fringe back, knowing I was going to do it at one point or another. I scrutinised my face in the mirror, and reached for my makeup bag, only to discover it wasn't there.