Patrick Stump/Fall Out Boy Imagines

[PATRICK] His Ex-Wife Is A Problem

Author's Note: Hey guys! This isn't really a new imagine. It's from my "That Cliche Book Where Patrick Loses His Kid" story, but I realized I didn't post it in this one, so, if you've already read it, I'm sorry, but if you haven't (or you have and you're reading it again because you can), I hope you enjoy! -Rachael

Patrick leads you inside of his house. You can't help but notice the toys that are scattered everywhere. He does too and laughs nervously. "I'm sorry. I didn't have time to clean up before you came. Elisa picked Declan up, like, right before our date."

"Elisa?"

"My ex-wife," He elucidates, stepping over a good-sized pile of Legos and walking into the living room, where he starts to pick things up. "It's like she's out to make my life as difficult as possible, always doing things on her time."

"Does he live with you or with her?" You ask out of curiosity, he being Declan.

"With me," He chuckles and gets down on his knees, picking up a hoard of Lincoln Logs, "Which is crazy, seeing as I'm never home. Or at least, I used to never be home. I haven't been doing much other than taking care of Declan since the band took a break." He heaves a sigh and drops the Lincoln Logs back onto the ground. "You know, I can just do this later." He stands back up and walks over to you, smirking. "I've got better things to do."

He slides his hand underneath your jawline and leans in, connecting his lips with yours. You snake your arms around his back and shorten the distance between you and him.

He smiles and slips his hands to the backside of your thighs, causing you to instinctively hoist yourself up and wrap your legs around his waist.  He stumbles backwards into the living room, somehow managing to avoid all of the little obstacles, and falls back on the couch in such a way  so you're sitting in his lap. You break the kiss for air and rest your forehead against his. "Let's go upstairs," You suggest breathlessly, looking into his lust-filled eyes.

"But I'm just so tired," Patrick gives as his excuse, his tone a little bit whiny, "Let's just stay here."

You heave a sigh, "But what if someone walks in on us?"

He chuckles, "Like who?"

"I don't know..." Your cheeks grow a deep shade of red.

He smirks and runs a hand through your hair, pushing the few strands out  of your face, "No one will walk in on us, (Y/N). I'm pretty sure I locked the door."

"Pretty sure?"

"Really sure," He changes his answer, the corners of his lips curling up into a smile.

You roll your eyes before swooping back in and kissing him. The two of you work at each other's clothes until you're stripped down to your bra and underwear and Patrick his boxers, having carelessly discarding the other garments into the sea of toys. Just as Patrick's about to unhook your bra, his cellphone starts to go off.

Patrick tries to ignore it, not wanting to interrupt the moment, but just as the ringing dies down, it starts back up again. You pull back and bite your lip. "You should probably get that."

He groans and tilts his head back. "Do I have to?"

"Patrick, it sounds important."

He sighs and concedes to answer it. You climb off of him and sit on the couch cushion next to Patrick, allowing him to get up. He makes his way over to where his pants were discarded and pulls the cellphone out of his pants' pocket, seeing that it's Elisa calling him.

"What the hell? What could she possibly want now?" He grumbles as he presses the answer button, "This is supposed to be her night." He puts the phone up to his ear and walks out of the room for privacy. You rest your head in your hand and wait for him to return.

Things are quiet for a little while before you hear Patrick shout, "What? What do you mean you're bringing him back? Elisa!"

A pause.

"No, I was just sitting around doing nothing," He replies to her sarcastically, "Of course I was doing something! You know, I know you don't think I do, but I do have a life outside of taking care of our son."

Silence.

"You just can't handle him? Really? That's such fucking bullshit! But you know what?" You hear him sigh. "Fine. Bring him back. I don't care anymore. He's better off with me, anyways, with someone who actually cares about him."

You pull your knees into your nearly bare chest and rest your chin on your kneecaps, frowning at the conversation you just overheard. Patrick returns shortly after and shakes his head, "I'm so sorry, (Y/N). That was my ex-wife. She's bringing my son back, so..."

"So I should probably get going," You assume dejectedly, standing up and starting to gather your clothes.

"No," Patrick counters, grabbing you by the arm. You meet his gaze and he smiles humbly. "I want you to say. You can meet my son. I'm sure you'll love him and vice versa."

"You want me to meet your son?" You squeak, surprised.

He nods his head, "What do you say? I mean, it's not like we just started dating. We've been dating for close to a year, now, if I remember correctly."

"O-Okay," You agree, your cheeks growing a deep shade of red.

"Awesome," He looks you up and down, "Well, um, Elisa won't be here for another twenty minutes, and I don't know if I told you tonight, but you look absolutely gorgeous. Do you want to maybe-"

You don't even give him a chance to finish his question before pulling him close to you and kissing him, dropping back on the couch, this time with Patrick on top.

To Be Continued...