Patrick Stump Imagines

I'll Be Home This Christmas

A/N: My past imagines have been dark and heartbreaking so here's a little bit of sucky fluff! (It's like I have this thing that only enables me to write sad stories omf)

Another thing; 1) new cover aYE 2) I'll probably be writing in first person most of the time now since it's easier and 3) I'll write a series of Christmas imagines bc why not

(Y/F/N) - Your Full Name

•••

• Your POV •

I can't believe that after countless years of Patrick and I's relationship that this year he won't be spending this Christmas with me-or should I say-us.

I got pregnant with our first (well, for me, first, but for him, second) baby about weeks ago before he left on that tour. I was planning to announce it to him when he gets home, but it wasn't happening anytime soon so I guess it'll have to wait.

I woke up due to the light shining violently on my eyes through the small opening of the balcony's curtains. The only thing I could hear was the sweet humming of the birds with a mix of the faded sounds of the Christmas songs from the neighbors' speakers. A few people were even singing along to the songs outside. Today was December 24, Christmas Eve, so a lot were hyped up. Most of the families would wait until Christmas morning to open up their presents; but we had a tradition to open gifts at the strike of 12AM, December 25.

I hesitantly rose into a sitting position on our bed, sulking at the wall, something I thought that was productive when it wasn't. I stood up and put on my fluffy slippers that were lying on the floor.

I went down the footsteps to notice that three people were there; Joe, Andy and Pete. They must've noticed my gaze because they all turned to me with big smiles. "Hey, (Y/N)! Merry Christmas!" Pete said, putting a gift under the tree and hugging me. "Hey, you seem a bit off; be ecstatic! Enjoy the happiness around you! It's Christmas morning!"

I shrugged at his remark. "Patrick isn't here. And how the hell did you get in my house, and why is Joe wearing an ugly Christmas sweater when he's Jewish and doesn't celebrate Christmas?"

Joe hid his face in shame and tried taking off the sweater, but Andy, who was sitting beside him, stopped him. "I lost a bet to Andy..."

"Oh, not bad joe," I said, turning to Andy. "And I thought you were an Atheist?"

"Oh, come on, (Y/N). Get into the Christmas spirit! Like what Pete said; be happy!" He rolled his eyes playfully and sipped his hot chocolate from the table which I assumed Pete made.

I must've been really distracted from talking with then that I didn't realize someone came into the house. I turned around and locked a gaze with someone who I couldn't take in who, but the words fell out of my mouth. "And I thought you were on tour?"

My eyes slowly widened as I realized who it was-Patrick. I hurriedly hugged him with him kissing my forehead. "I missed you."

"I missed you too..." He pulled away from the hug and cupped my face into a heated kiss. His lips felt soft and warm against mine; like they were made for me.

I suddenly realized that his bandmates were watching, so I pulled away. "Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be on tour?"

His eyes switched to the three boys behind him. "If I was going to be on tour; why are the guys here?"

I stupidly realized what he said. "Then what were you doing while you were away?"

He suddenly became sweaty and nervous, then got down on one knee. "I was going to announce this tonight, but screw it. I was getting ready to say this for days, so I left to practice. (Y/N)," he said, getting down on one knee. I knew what was happening; and hoped he wasn't just going to tie his shoelace. "We've faced so many challenges for the past, I don't know-19? years we've been together. I can't stand not waking up next to your wonderful face every morning. I love all your wonderful tactics that made us what we are right now. I love the way you sing my songs in the shower just to tease me. You might think you're a bad singer, but I think your voice is better than mine. You might think that you're ugly or fat, but none of those mean anything to me. I love you, and that's it. I love you unconditionally.(Y/N), I have no regrets on choosing you as a girlfriend, and I have no regrets that I'm choosing you as my wife. (Y/F/N), will you marry me?"

My eyes started to tear up at what he said. "Yes, I do."

His mood changed from nervous to excited and lifted me up into the air, his bandmates cheering at him. "I love you so damn much!"

He put me down and suddenly, I felt nervous. It was my turn to give a surprise that could change this decision of making me his wife.

"Patrick? Can I tell you something?" I asked, holding both of his hands nervously. He must've noticed this because his happy mood changed.

"Yes, love. What is it?"

I tried not stuttering, and achieved. "I'm pregnant."

His eyes went wide and carried me once again, but put me down when he realized what he was doing might cause me to throw up. "I can't believe it, (Y/N). This is the best Christmas I could ask for."

The three guys walked over to us and invited us to join them in opening the gifts and eating at the table with food that I assumed they ordered, since only they only knew a few things about cooking-and I'm sure cooking a whole Christmas breakfast wasn't one of them.

The material gifts didn't really matter. All that mattered was that Patrick was home, we were having a family, and that we got to spend Christmas with his bandmates and our soon-to-be baby.

Now, isn't that a perfect Christmas?