✓ ❘ 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ─ 𝐌𝐂𝐑. 𝐏!𝐀𝐓𝐃. 𝐅𝐎𝐁. 𝐓Ø𝐏.

Crazy. (Patrick Stump x Reader)

Listen to the above song while reading.

Is it crazy that I want you to stay

When I tell you to leave

When I tell you go?

Is it crazy that I say your name

More times a day

Than I say my own

Tell me, baby, is it crazy?

Tell me, baby, is it crazy?

"You're leaving again?" your hushed voice cut through the warmth of your bedroom like an icicle, making Patrick freeze mid-way as he was sneaking out of your bed.

His body tensed up at the sound of your tiny voice, and you could perfectly envision the expression on his face as he heaved a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his thick head of hair.

"Isn't this how it's supposed to go, (Y/N)?" he questioned, mild exasperation evident in his voice as his hands busied themselves with reaching for his items of clothing strewn around the room. "You call me over, we have a good time and then I leave. That was the agreement."

An immature agreement that you were utterly senseless to concede to. The whole 'friends with benefits' thing never works out; it was a well-known fact. Yet, no one ever acknowledges that fact, and they're all convinced that their 'arrangement' won't fall under the category of 'failed' – which ultimately, they do.

Your and Patrick's situation was not unlike the rest. There was a mutual attraction between you, which both of you were well aware of, but neither of you were looking for anything too serious; this resulted in the complicated relationship you were currently partaking in.

Is it crazy when you're gone for a minute

I'm missing you, Yeah, I feel alone

Is it crazy that I'm jealous of them bitches

When they get your time

And I know it's wrong?

But, tell me, is it crazy?

Yeah, I need to know if it's crazy

Damn

"You could at least stay for a little while," you mewled, clutching at the bedding draped around your body as if it were a lifeline.

"Wouldn't that just complicate things?" he inquired. He still wasn't facing you, a clear indication that having this conversation was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Things are already complicated," you huffed while running your fingers through the knots in your matted hair.

You couldn't say when you started developing real feelings for Patrick, because you weren't entirely sure. All you remember is that one night after he had come over and you had had sex, he was gone almost immediately after, leaving you with a newfound feeling of emptiness – which you hadn't felt all those previous times, when he had done the exact same thing.

You found yourself wishing that he would stay with you, cuddling and talking about random, unimportant things until you fell asleep in each other's arms. What was more, you found yourself resenting whomever it was that he was leaving you to hang out with, even if it was just the guys. You craved the attention and loyalty he provided them with, and that craving snowballed into a massive ball of ice, striking you at full force and obliterating any feeling of warmth every time he walked out that door.