Patrick Stump Imagines for the Hopelessly Addicted

Blonde [Soul Punk/Soulmate AU]

A/N: I am so, so sorry for the impromptu hiatus. I can't guarantee it won't happen again but I'm gonna try my best to at least publish the rest of what I've already written. Sorry.

This is probably one of my favorites I've written! It's based on the following au prompt I found on Pinterest: "au where you have a stripe of your soulmate's hair color on your wrist and if they dye their hair your stripe changes color"

(...you can see why I immediately thought of Patrick and had to write this.)

Word Count: 1174

Warnings: none

Your soulmate's hair was obnoxiously fickle. When you both were kids, it was a lighter blonde, but by the time you graduated high school, it had settled into a color somewhere between ash blonde and light brown. It all depended on how the light hit it; in some lights, it almost looked red. Having such a wildly varying color on your wrist meant finding your soulmate was even harder than it was for most people. Anyone you looked at, the color was always just slightly wrong.

Your hair was a pretty plain color, so that didn't make it any easier for your soulmate to approach you. You guessed that was why people sometimes went through multiple relationships before they actually found their soulmate. The person they thought was their soulmate just happened to have the same color hair as them. Whatever. In college, you started dying your hair unnatural colors – pink, blue, purple – in an attempt to get your soulmate's attention, if you'd already met them. But you must not have, because you were now 24, and you were still single.

You worked at a recording studio, which was cool because you loved music. And it was summer, which was cool because you loved the sun on your skin. And lately, Patrick Stump had been visiting the studio quite a bit, which was cool because...well, you really liked him.

You'd met Patrick a few years ago, when he'd stopped by a few times to record some things for his band. You instantly liked the guy – he was sweet, polite, and often went out of his way trying to make everyone happy. He had the biggest, most sincere smile you'd ever seen. He was super talented, too. You listened to his band, Fall Out Boy, of course, and even the random snippets of drums or guitar or the spare vocal run that caught your ear while he was in the studio seemed to just warm your soul.

Fall Out Boy had gone on hiatus about two years ago, and ever since then, Patrick had been spending more and more time in the studio, working on some kind of solo project he said he'd been wanting to get out of his head for a while now. Your daily pleasantries gradually evolved into more in-depth discussions on music, on life, on whatever was on one of your minds. Sometimes his visits to the studio consisted of more tea drinking and conversation than actual recording. Since you'd met him, Patrick had lost quite a bit of weight, and as a result, he seemed much more confident lately, which made you quite happy because, well, he deserved it.

Along with his newfound confidence and the hiatus came the loss of Patrick's signature hats, meaning you were seeing his hair more now than you ever had before. More frequently than you'd like to admit, you caught your eyes lingering on his hair, especially when he ran his fingers through it, as he was often prone to do. You found yourself wondering if the color matched the one on your wrist – it was certainly close, but you could never be sure. It was just a passing thought, but...it would be nice if it were him. You liked him a lot. You found yourself staring at the color on your wrist when you were alone, trying to decide whether it was the same as his.

One day, you glanced down at your wrist and were surprised to find your soulmate's hair color had changed – it was now bleach blonde. Your heart stopped. A million thoughts fluttered around in your brain. Why had your soulmate dyed his hair all of a sudden? Would it be easier to find him now that he didn't have such a variable color? And a small part of your brain—a very small part—was kind of disappointed, because that tiny part of your brain wanted your soulmate to be Patrick, and you felt like he wasn't the kind of guy who would dye his hair bleach blonde.

Patrick came in to the studio a few days later, his hair bleach blonde.

Your eyes widened as you watched his fingers run through his new cut. He seemed a little nervous about it, but he looked fantastic. It really suited him.

"Hey, y/n," he said, grinning nervously.

"Hey," you said, trying to smile like everything was normal, but your heart was beating out of control.

"What?" Patrick said, chuckling nervously, and your eyes snapped back to his as you realized you were staring. "Does it look bad?"

"No," you said, struggling to form words. "No, it looks...really, really good, actually," you laughed nervously.

"Thanks," Patrick said, glancing away with a shy smile. He wouldn't stop playing with his hair, and it was driving you insane.

"Um...what made you...want to dye it?" You asked. You were stalling. You didn't want to tell him only to find out it was just a coincidence.

"Well..." he said. "I was always kind of more blonde as a kid, until high school, really, and I kind of missed it, I guess. Plus I just wanted a change."

You nodded, smiling politely, while your brain was screaming IT'S HIM IT'S HIM IT'S HIM. It's now or never, you thought, and you went for it.

"Hey, umm," you started, your voice shaking. "When...did you dye it?"

"Uhh, it's been...two days now? Why?"

You glanced away, hoping to hide your wide eyes, hoping he didn't notice your fingers fidgeting nervously under your desk.

"So, umm..." you started. "Two days ago, my, umm...my soulmate also dyed their hair blonde." You bit your lip and met his eyes again, which slowly went wide as he processed your confession.

"Really?" he said. He seemed frozen to the spot. You nodded and held up your arm for him to inspect.

He didn't move for a moment, just blinking into your eyes, before he slowly stepped around the desk, and you stood up to meet him. His eyes nervously dropped, but then he slowly raised his arm to the side of your head, shaking a little, comparing his soulmate's hair color with yours. He held his arm there for a moment, his eyes flicking back and forth before a huge smile spread across his face and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders for a tight hug. You hugged him back, burying your own smile in his shoulder.

"I was hoping it would be you," he murmured.

"Me too," you admitted.

He pulled away, cupping your face in his hands, grinning enormously.

"Of course it is. Of course it's you," he said.

You were speechless, just staring into his beautiful eyes and loving how close you were to him and knowing – finally knowing for sure that you really were meant to be with this amazing man.

You were so busy staring you almost didn't notice him slowly moving closer until you could feel his breath on your lips. Your eyes flickered shut as he kissed you, soft and sweet, the perfect first soulmate kiss. He smiled as he pulled away, and you were sure your face mirrored his. You could get used to this.