Requested by: @lightwood2002 who asked “
Can I get a fluffy Patrick Kane imagine were he isn’t feeling well and you take care of him.”
Requests: Open!! I only have two left!
Up Next: Connor McDavid
“You’re going to regret it if you go outside barefoot.” You said leaning against the counter cradling your mug.
Patrick, your fiance gave you a skeptical look. “The trashcan is less than thirty feet away. I think I’ll survive.”
“It’s barely above freezing…and it’s starting to rain.” You gestured to what was basically slush coming from the sky. A bit too cold for rain, but too warm for snow…a common occurrence in Chicago during early December.
“I’ll be fine.” And with that he headed out the door.
You shook your head. “Moron.”
A blast of cold air hit you when the door reopened. “I told you I’d survive.”
“For now.” You muttered, rolling your eyes. “When you get sick I’m not calling Q to tell him you can’t make it to practice because you were idiotic enough to go outside barefoot in the winter.”
“Hi, Joel? It’s Y/N…” You paused for a second and pressed a cold washcloth to Patrick’s forehead. “I don’t think Patrick is fit to come to practice today.”
You could practically hear the eyeroll. “It’s a mandatory practice. He can’t just miss because he wants to stay in the bed with his fiancee.”
“I don’t want to be in bed with him either. He has a temperature of almost 100…and if I had to take a wild guess, I’m going to assume the saltines I gave him earlier won’t stay down much longer.”
Q groaned. “He’s sick? Who gave him a bug??”
“Oh that’d be himself. Despite me telling him what a boneheaded idea it’d be, he decided to go outside without shoes and a coat last night. Needless to say, I was right.”
“Typical.” He gave a defeated sigh. “Just get him better. The Blues will be in town this weekend and we need him out there.”
“I’ll do my best.” You hung up and glared at Patrick. “See what happens when you don’t listen to me?”
He coughed and gave you a scowl. “You’re so mean. Why can’t you be a sympathetic nurse?”
“Because I told you exactly what would happen.” Belaying your harsh words, you gently wiped his clammy face with the cool cloth. “You’re such an idiot.”
“True.” He coughed again and was silent for a few seconds. You watched as a slightly green undertone came to his face. “I think I-”
Before he got the rest of his sentence out you had pulled him from the bed and all but thrown him in front of the toilet. Gently patting his back you offered silent support as he heaved up everything in his stomach, making sure not to watch or breath through your nose. When he appeared done, you handed him his toothbrush and led him back to the bed.
“I feel terrible.” He moaned.
“You poor pitiful baby.” You cooed. Lifting his head you sat it in your lap and ran your fingers through his hair. A movie played softly in the background and Patrick tried to sleep through his sickness as your hands softly massaged his head.
“Sorry I didn’t listen.” He whispered quietly a few minutes later.
“Pat…it’s ok. As unbelievable as it is, I know you’re human and make mistakes…and get sick.”
“But you told me I’d get sick and I didn’t listen.”
“I doubt it…but maybe that means next time you’ll listen…” You gave a slight laugh. “But honestly, it’s ok. Everybody gets sick. The fact that the reason you got sick is because of your choices….eh. I’m pretty confident that everyone makes some bad choices.”
“Obviously.” You stood up and stretched. “How about I go make some soup and toast? You can try and keep that down.”
“I’ll do my best.” He shot you a smile that you returned. After making sure there was a trashcan next to the bed and he had a Gatorade you headed for the kitchen.
“Y/N!” He called out before you’d reached the doorway.
“I love you. Thank you for taking care of me even though I was the idiot that got myself in this situation.”
“We have a lot of favorites, there are a lot of good ones… As Long As You Love Me, [by] the Backstreet Boys. A lot of Backstreet Boys’s [songs] are up there. A couple of N Sync’s too, that most guys don’t want to say they like. But if you get it out, a few guys, I think, they’d say they like it, so… I’m one of those guys I guess.”
…the devil lives inside this kid, I swear it. It rises out of him in a mist, this baby-faced defiant wrathful version of Pat Kane, escapes his bodily confines to perform satanic miracles all over the offensive zone. The only thing more fearsome than that assist was the keep-in preceding it. The only thing more unholy than his face is his black magic.
OKAY SO I WORK IN A MALL AND A LOT OF US THAT WORK IN THE DIFFERENT STORES KNOW EACH OTHER AND ARE FRIENDS AND WE CAN ALL TELL WHO WORKS WHERE BY THEIR OUTFITS AND I JUST WANT TO EITHER READ OR WRITE A SHOP AU WHERE KANER WORKS AT LIKE NIKE OR SOMETHING WITH SHARPY AND SHAWZY WITH HIS BACKWARD BASEBALL CAPS AND FLIP FLOPS AND SHIRTS WITH SLOGANS LIKE ‘WANT SOME GET SOME’ AND TAZER WORKS AT HUGO BOSS OR SOMETHING ALL SHARP SUITS AND COLOR COORDINATED TIES AND HANDKERCHIEFS AND THEY KEEP RUNNING INTO EACH OTHER IN THE MIDDLE OF STARBUCKS RUNS AND AT FIRST TAZER IS ALL CONTEMPTUOUS BUT KANER WINS HIM OVER BECAUSE HE’S JUST SO SMOOTH LIKE THAT AND THEN THEY START MAKING BETS ABOUT SHAWZY AND BOLLIG AND THEN FIND OUT THAT EVERYONE’S BEEN MAKING BETS ABOUT THEM AND THEY DECIDE TO CASH IN BIG AND LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER.