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You Can't Take Her From Me (Patrick Stump Imagine)

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A loud squeal escaped you as you approached Patrick after first period. You watched him smile widely. He was very amused with your current state.

"Tricky, Tricky, Tricky!" You half-shouted, grabbing the boy's shoulders and shaking him rather aggressively. Patrick laughed as you did so, eventually grabbing your shoulders and doing the same.

"Whaty, whaty, whaty?!" He replied, tone of voice matching yours. You giggled slightly, but still bounced up and down. Holding out your hand, you showed off a gold band that had three small white diamonds, it was on your ring finger.

Patrick's eyes widened and he held you down so that you'd quit bouncing. He grabbed your hand, a little tightly, to get a closer look at the ring.

"No shit. Did Victor get you this?" He asked, looking up with blue-green eyes still as wide as before. You nodded frantically. "We're gonna get married! Right after graduation!" You squealed.

Patrick's face dropped a little. "/Oh/." He seemed a little upset over it, but you knew he'd deny it like always, so you didn't ask. "I'm super happy for you, Y/N!" He said, trying to seem more enthusiastic, "You two have been together for years now, I'm glad you're finally tying the knot..."

You simply tried to ignore it.

"I know! I'm happy too! And guess what, you're gonna be my best man! Yeah, its not conventional, but its been done before! You're my best friend! I want you to have that title!" Patrick was honestly very flattered. He smiled a little. "Thank you, Y/N. That means a lot to me."

The year leading up to the wedding was quite agonizing for Patrick. He had to sit there, and watch as you and your fiancé were all lovey dovey. He stuck by your side though, no matter how much it pained him to listen to every rant and ramble about Victor pained him.

But, the almost year-and-a-half had passed by, rather slowly I must say, and the wedding was to be carried out in less than fifteen minutes. You'd suggested he be in the room with your future husband instead of your own, despite him being /your/ best man.

Just as the stylist adjusted Victor's tie, Patrick approached him.

"Alright, I know you're a good guy, but we need to have a talk." He started, and Victor nodded for him to keep going.

"I've known Y/N all my life. I need you to know how to take care of her. Treat her like a princess. Tell her you love her every day. Better yet, every ten minutes. She's a great girl and she deserves it. Do not, I repeat, do /not/ leave the bed before she wakes up. She hates waking up alone." Patrick rambled on.

Victor only smiled. "Got it, little man."

He had turned to get back to getting ready, but Patrick started talking again.

"And she doesn't like the clear gummy bears! She says they taste like ashes! If anything, she prefers you to pick out all the red ones and put them in little baggies so that she doesn't have to do it herself. Oh! And you have to keep a fully stocked supply of pencils, sketchbooks, and notepads! You never know when she's gonna want to write or draw!"

"Also, if she has a nightmare, you have to light lavender candles and hold her and pet her hair and rub her sides until she falls back asleep!" Patrick half-shouted, eyes big as he looked up the long way at your fiancé.

Victor's face dropped a little. "I didn't– I didn't know a lot of that..." He said quietly, looking down a bit. The planner peeked her head into the door, shouting a "Two minutes!" into the room.

"I know..." Patrick whispered as he followed Victor out the door.

When he began walking down the aisle, arm linked with one of Victor's groomsmen because of the fact that he was the only male on your side and you wanted to keep that part of the tradition going, he spotted you.

/You/, in that gorgeous gown that fit you perfectly, your hair done in a fancy updo and the bouquet of red spider lillies in your hands. You saw him and smiled widely, waving the little bit you could without being unnoticed.

The ceremony went by almost as slow as the year leading up to it, a sigh of relief unintentionally leaving Patrick's lips when the minister finally got to the part with the 'I do's. What shocked him, though, were the words that left Victor's mouth.

"I can't."

Gasps erupted throughout the room, both yours and Victor's mothers bursting into tears at the words. Patrick stood there speechless, as did the rest of the room, signalling for Victor to explain why.

"I love you, Y/N, I really do. Its just...I've only recently realized that I can't love you the way you want to be loved. I can't provide that. We made great friends, and I think we're better off that way, because I'm not the guy for you." He said. Tears pricked your eyes.

"Wh-What do you mean?" You asked, "We were together for four years! I th-thought you loved me..."

Victor smiled sweetly, and placed a hand under your chin. "I do love you. But not the way you want me to. I can't love you that way. There's only one person capable of loving you like that." He then grabbed a still-frozen Patrick's hand, and pulled him so that he was standing in front of you instead.

"Patrick, you love Y/N with all your heart. Its obvious. You know every little detail about her and its obvious that both of you are smitten. And to be honest, I ship it." Victor laughed. Patrick's eyes filled with tears, as did yours.

"You two love each other. You're meant to be." He said, before placing his hands on the back of both of your heads, "Now, kiss!"

Neither of you wasted time in taking up on the offer, leaning in and pressing your lips together passionately. Victor smiled triumphantly, Patrick wrapping his arms around your waist and you doing the same around his neck.

A mixture of cheers, shouts, whistles, and noises of confusion erupted throughout the room, your mother continuing to cry and Victor's hugging him and congratulating him on doing the right thing.

When the two of you pulled away, you laughed at Patrick's little group of friends sitting in the crowd of people on the left side of the church. Pete was crying dramatically, Andy was unamusedly providing him with an endless stream of tissues, and Joe was rubbing his back and cheering along with the rest assured of the church.

"I love you, Tricky."

"I love you too, Y/N."