Patrick Stump Imagines

daddy issues

Warnings: abuse, alcoholism

It was another day like every day, your father screaming at you and making you feel small. You tried to hide it, but it was hard. It really beat you down.

You weren't even sure why you still lived with your dad. He was an asshole, and that's why your mom left a couple of years ago in the first place. You, being forgiving, decided to give him a second chance, and stayed.

Of course, you were old enough to go out on your own, but money was tight, and you currently had no way to leave.

To be clear, you hated him. You knew you should respect him and love him, but you hated him. He made it clear that he didn't care about you or your mom all your life, and somehow you decided to stay with him.

Today, though, was especially worse. It was clear he had been drinking again, but then again, when wasn't he? He could scream at you for anything and make you feel like nothing. Like dirt on the bottom of his shoe.

"You don't make the money! If I weren't here, you'd be on the streets!" One of the things he said a lot.

"Dad, stop!" You Shouted. "Just quit!"

You covered your eyes with your hands, and he grabbed your wrists tightly, pulling them away.

"Not until you shut up! I can drink if I want to!" He spat in your face as tears rolled down your cheeks.

"I hate you!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, resulting in him slapping you.

He had never laid a hand on you before, so it came as a shock. You knew that he used to get physical with your mom, but he had stopped that years ago when she finally called the police.

You brought your hand up to touch your burning cheek, letting out a small whimper.

There was silence in the room, before he sighed.

"You know, you really disappoint me." He glared at you.

"Get away from me." You breathed through your tears, pushing past him and running into your bathroom.

You grabbed your phone from your pocket, dialing your friend's number. He was your best friend, and knew about your dad. He had offered before to let you live with him, but you didn't want to intrude, especially since he lived the busy life of being a musician.

As you brought the phone to your ear, You began to hear pounding on your door. Tears strolled down your face as you let out a broken sob.

"Hello?"

"Patrick.." you let out a shaky breath.

"Y/N? What's wrong?" Patrick Asked, immediately sounding worried.

"He's drinking again.." you sobbed.

"Oh, Y/N.." he started.

"He hit me." You whimpered.

He gasped. "What?"

"He hit me this time.."

"Y/N, I'm coming to get you, Okay? Pack a bag." He said. You could hear his keys jingling and footsteps as he went out to his car.

"He's outside my door." You whispered. "What if he hurts you?"

"Shh...hey, it'll be okay.." he cooed. "I'll get you out of there. I'll be there in a bit."

"Okay."

"I'm gonna hang up now. Will you be okay?" He asked softly.

You hummed in response.

"Okay, Bye, Y/N."

"Bye."

He hung up, and you slid your phone back in your pocket, before quickly standing and grabbing your backpack from the closet. It was pretty dusty, since you hadn't used it since college, but it would have to work.

As your dad pounded on the door loudly, you ran around the room, packing your important possessions and clothing.

Finally, you heard the sound of the doorbell, and your dad stopped knocking.

You walked over to the door, opening it the slightest bit to peek out.

You were able to see your dad stumble over to the door, and open it, revealing Patrick, who was wearing his fedora and John Coltrane shirt that he wore a lot.

You smiled a little at the sight of him, but frowned again when your dad began to speak.

"What do you want?" He asked, with venom in his voice.

He knew who Patrick was. In fact, he thought you and Patrick were dating, even though you were only really close friends.

"I'm here to pick up Y/N." Patrick Said, staring straight into your dad's eyes.

"I don't have to let you in." He growled in response.

"Oh? Would you rather me call the police?" Patrick Asked, putting his hands on his hips.

"For what? I didn't do nothing." Your dad said, making you cringe from his awful grammar.

"You hit her." Patrick spoke in a deep tone, which sent chills up your spine. You had never heard him talk like that before, and this was the first time Patrick confronted your father.

"It was only a slap." Your dad growled. "And besides, she deserved it."

Patrick looked like he was about to punch your father for a second, but instead, he kept his composure. "She's coming with me."

"She wouldn't come with you." Your dad said. "She's staying."

You opened the door, stepping out with your backpack.

"Patrick." You Said, your voice coming out weakly.

"Y/N.." Patrick's face softened as he looked at you. He held his arm out. "Come here.."

You walked over hurriedly, trying to ignore your dad's glare. Patrick led you down the front steps, whispering for you to get in the car.

You nodded, before running over. You got in quickly, tossing your backpack on the back seat.

You looked over to see Patrick walking back up to your dad, who had a stupid smug look on his face.

You couldn't make out much of what Patrick Shouted at him, but you for sure heard a few curse words, Before Patrick turned on his heel, walked over to the car.

He got in the driver's seat, and turned to you, studying your face.

"Y/N, are you okay?" He asked gently.

You bit your lip, looking down as tears began to roll down your flushed cheeks. You let out a sob, and Patrick immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. You buried your face in his shirt and cried as he ran his hand through your hair, kissing you on the head.

"It'll be okay." He whispered. "I promise."

A little peek into my life I guess..