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no-pucks-given · 3 years

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ADAM BOQVIST | SPILLED LOVE

Warnings: Oral (female receiving), protected sex.

Word Count: 2.7K

You’ve been friends with Adam for almost 6 years now, and every free Friday night is spent the same. The two of you bundled up underneath some blankets on the couch, countless glasses of wine, and some random movie playing on the screen. Every single Friday night is spent like this, but you can’t help hoping that this one will be different.

You can’t remember the exact point when your feelings for Adam changed, your feelings just simply changed over time. There’s nothing you’d rather want than telling Adam how you feel, but the fear of losing him holds you back. His friendship is the one thing that keeps you going, his smile, his humour, everything. You can’t even think about the possibility of losing that, it’s way too valuable to gamble with. So once more, you push your feelings aside, having Adam as just your friend is better than not having Adam at all.

Today is another regular Friday night, Adam laying on your couch, a blanket covering his body. His favourite movie playing on the screen, a bowl of popcorn sitting between the two of you. Mindlessly you grab your glass, only to find it empty. You groan, you’re so damn comfortable right now. You nudge Adam with your foot across the couch. He flinches, grabbing your foot with his hand. “What the heck? What do you want now?” he whines.

You try to give him your sweetest look, but Adam looks deeply unimpressed. “Can you get me something to drink? I’m sooo comfortable here,” you ask him softly.

He chuckles, before shaking his head at you. “Fuck no, I’m comfortable. Go grab your own drink, y/n.”

You grab the bottle of wine, pouring yourself another glass. You sigh to yourself again, you should’ve checked if he needed anything as well. “Adam! Do you need anything?” you yell out, keeping your fingers crossed that he heard you yelling his name. You don’t hear any noises coming from the living room, so you grab your glass of wine and walk out of the kitchen.

You sigh loudly, before climbing off the couch. “Ugh, you suck, Boqvist,” you tell him while passing by.

“Oh, fuck off,” Adam laughs, flipping you the bird.

The moment you round the corner you collide with a solid chest, spilling the contents of your glass all over Adam’s white shirt. “Shit, Adam. I’m so sorry,” you say, looking between your empty glass and Adam’s wet shirt.

“Fuck, y/n. That’s so cold,” he whines, touching the wet spot.

“Stop saying sorry, y/n. It isn’t your fault,” Adam says softly. You smile, turning around to grab something to clean his shirt with. “I’ll just throw it in your washing machine, it’s easier. You probably still have some stolen hoodie here anyway,” Adam says cheekily.

You grab his arm, pulling him inside the kitchen. “I’m sorry, let me get you cleaned up, okay?” you say, putting your glass back down on the counter.

You start laughing, because you do have some of his hoodies in your closet. Your laughter dies in your throat when you turn around, and come face to face with a shirtless Adam. It’s hard to keep your eyes off him. You knew he would be fit, considering he is a NHL player, but you’re still absolutely stunned. It’s his soft smile, the way he leans relaxed against the counter that brings you to the decision to just simply kiss him. It might not be the best moment, but who knows whenever an opportunity like this arises?

You close the small distance between Adam and you, grabbing the back of his neck, and softly pressing your lips on his. It takes Adam a few seconds to respond, those few seconds feeling like minutes to you. You start to pull away, your mind swirling with all different kinds of emotions, but Adam’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him, pressing his lips harder against yours.

There’s no fireworks, no sizzling feeling, but it does feel like coming home, like this is how it’s supposed to be. Adam’s hand cups your jaw, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip, coaxing you to open up for him. His tongue glides against yours, discovering a whole new part of you.

Desperate for some air, you break the kiss, slowly moving your head away from Adam. He brushes his thumb over your cheek, smiling softly at you. “Maybe you should’ve spilled your wine on me sooner, y/n.”

You laugh, slightly embarrassed about what happened in the last 10 minutes. “I don’t know about that, I had no idea..” you trail off.

“That I’m desperately in love with my best friend?” Adam says dryly, trying to keep the grin off his face. He sees the look of confusion, disbelief on your face. He turns the two of you around, backing you up against the counter. This time his lips land on yours, hands gripping your waist, and lifting you on top of the counter. You gasp at the contact between the cold counter and your hot skin, allowing Adam to deepen the kiss.

He steps between your open legs, hands sliding over the exposed skin of your thighs. You hold Adam close to you by the back of his neck, your other hand exploring his chest, his shoulders, anything you can get your hands on. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to do that, Adam,” you say, after breaking the kiss.

“So have I, you just beat me to it,” Adam chuckles, his hands sliding up your legs, and over your waist, stopping just below your breasts.

“Tell me to stop, y/n,” Adam says, eyes locked on yours, fingers itching to touch every single inch of your body, to discover every spot that makes you moan, laugh, smile, cry out, everything.

“Please, don’t stop,” you say, hooking your legs around his waist, pulling his hips flush against you. You grab one of his hands, placing it on your breast. “Touch me, Adam,” you tell him reassuringly. Adam squeezes softly, thumb brushing over your taut bud, drawing a moan out of your mouth.

“Always so bossy, huh?” Adam breathes against your neck, sucking softly on your skin. “I’ll show you who’s bossy, y/n.”

His fingers grip the hem of your t-shirt, slowly pulling it up and off your body. Fingertips brushing over your newly exposed skin, while his mouth crashes down on yours once more. Tongues dancing together, exploring new territory, hands touching every inch of skin they can reach.

Adam finds your eyes once more, while his fingers toy with the clasp of your bra. “You sure about this, y/n?” he asks, searching for any doubt you might have.

“I am, are you okay with this?” you ask, determined to make sure he’s okay with this as well.

Adam chuckles low, lips brushing against your ear. “I’m more than okay with this,” he whispers, unhooking your bra, and throwing it to the side.

His hands find your breasts instantly, gently squeezing the soft flesh. His thumbs brush over your nipples, softly rolling the buds between his fingers. “Oh, that feels so good,” you moan out. His lips trail a path down towards your breast, nipping and sucking skin on the way.

Adam pushes you down on the counter, the cold top soothing your burning skin. His lips close around one of your nipples, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth. His hands wander further down your body, slowly tugging your shorts and underwear down your legs. While his tongue swirls around your nipple, his hand slips between your legs, his fingers sliding through your dripping slit.

“Already so wet for me, aren’t you?” Adam breathes out against your breast.

“Please, Adam,” you beg, squirming underneath his touch. He chuckles low, pushing two fingers inside of you. You moan out at the sensation, clenching around his fingers. He groans against your skin, kissing down your body, until he reaches his final destination.

He softly blows against your core, smirking to himself when your hips almost buck off the counter. One of his hands presses down on your stomach, restricting your movements. “Be a good girl for me, and lay still,” Adam says, his thumb pressing down on your clit, fingers curved just the right way inside of you.

You try your hardest to stay still, but Adam is making it extremely difficult for you. His lips closing around your clit, softly sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves, his fingers hitting you in just the right spot. You’re a moaning mess underneath Adam’s touch, your fingers tightly wrapped around the strands of his hair, pulling his face closer against where you need him the most.

“Come for me, come on, baby,” Adam simply says, before his mouth is on your core again. His sweet, yet commanding words, his mouth, his fingers, everything together pushes you over the edge, spiralling into wonderful bliss. Eyes rolling to the back of your skull, fingers tightening their grip on Adam’s hair, his name falling off your lips in a never ending stream of moans and mumbles.

A sight Adam always hoped to see, but never dared to dream of. Naked before him, underneath him, completely lost in the pleasure he gave you, completely and utterly at peace. It’s a sight he slowly, but steadily finally can dream of. A dream come true, that’s for sure.

Adam gently slides his fingers out of you, keeping his eyes on your face. He brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking one of his fingers clean. The smirk that forms on his face tells you he isn’t done yet. “You,” he starts, bringing his other finger up to your mouth, “taste so good,” he finishes, pushing his finger past your lips. Your lips close around his finger, sucking it clean.

You release Adam’s finger with a pop, struggling to get yourself upright again. Adam chuckles at you, wrapping one arm around your back, while his other hand grabs the back of your thigh, lifting you off the counter. Your lips brush past his ear, his fingers tightening on your thigh. “I can’t wait to taste you, Adam,” you whisper. You smirk at his sharp intake of breath, the falter in his step.

“You will. But right now all I want is to bury myself inside of you, baby,” he counters, making you gasp.

Adam drops you on top of the mattress, a squeal leaving your lips. You look up at the gorgeous Swede before you, hands reaching out to help him out of his sweats. Adam simply chuckles at you, hooking his fingers into the waistband, sliding everything down in one swift move. His erection springs free from its confinements, smacking against his stomach. Your mouth almost starts to water at the sight before you, you desperately want to touch him, to taste him, to feel him.

Adam crawls back between your legs, claiming your mouth with his once again. His hand on your cheek, tongues swirling and twisting around the other, still getting used to the unfamiliar feeling. “Condom?” Adam breathes out against your lips. You nod your head, leaning towards your bedside table, rummaging through your drawer for a condom. You rip the package open between your teeth, gently rolling down the condom over his erection, giving him a few pumps with your hand.

His hands are everywhere when he settles himself between your legs, his cock sliding through your folds, coating himself in your wetness. Adam puts your leg around his waist, giving him some more room to work with. Gently he pushes inside of you, inch by inch, making sure he doesn’t hurt you in any way. He feels you tense up beneath him, even though your face looks completely okay. Adam brushes his hand over your upper thigh, softly pecking your lips. “Relax, baby. I got you,” he says, lips brushing over yours.

His sweet words make you forget all about your tension, instantly relaxing your muscles. “Good girl,” Adam whispers against your ear the moment he’s fully seated inside of you. You move your hips, letting Adam know he can move. He slowly starts moving inside of you, letting the both of you get used to the unfamiliar feeling of being this close, this connected to each other. One of your hands tangled in the strands of Adam’s hair, one hand on his back, keeping him as close as possible.

The two of you move like you’ve been doing this for a long time, completely relaxed with each other, completely at peace, bodies moving together as one, it’s a mind-altering experience.

Adam picks up his pace, his thrust short, yet deep inside of you. His thrusts hit you in all the right places, driving you closer, and closer to your release. It’s a spur of the moment decision, but it feels right, so right. “Can we switch?” you moan out against his bicep.

Adam chuckles, his pace slowing down to almost non existing. “We can do whatever you want, y/n,” he says, rolling the two of you over in one swift move. You laugh out loud at his move, bracing yourself on his chest. “Ride me, baby,” Adam says, hands gripping your hips. You lift your hips, gently sinking back down onto his cock, testing the waters. Adam smiles at you, his hands on your hips helping you to set the pace.

Every rock of your hips, every thrust that Adam gives to match your rhythm brings you closer to your orgasm. The groans and soft moans that leave Adam’s mouth might be your new favourite sound, his face revealing all his emotions, his feelings.

You’re so close, so close to your release, you can almost taste it. Adam’s thumb presses down on your clit, rubbing fast circles on the sensitive bud. “Almost there, almost there,” you moan out, completely lost in everything Adam gives you. The words are barely out of your mouth before you shatter around him, yelling his name so loud the neighbours probably know you’re finally more than friends.

Adam fucks you right through your high, the way you’re clamping down on him makes sure he absolutely won’t last a lot longer. Your eyes are on his when he pushes you down onto his cock, burying himself deep inside of you. The way his face twists into pure relief, bliss, ecstasy, your name leaving his lips, the groans when he empties himself inside the condom. It’s only making this experience better, unforgettable.

A chuckle leaves Adam’s throat when he comes down from his own high, brushing his hand through his hair. “What’s so funny, huh?” you smile at him.

“I never thought this would happen, I hoped it would though,” he replies, gently lifting you off him. You roll back onto your back, staring at the ceiling, thinking about his words for a second, while Adam ties the condom, throwing it in the trashcan besides your bed.

He looks over at you, shaking his head at your thoughtful face. “Come here,” Adam whispers, pulling you back on top of him. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he says softly, pecking your lips.

You smile at him, tracing his cheekbones with your fingers. “I don’t know, it’s still pretty unbelievable that this actually happened,” you muse. “What do we do now, Adam?” Your eyebrows furrow at your own question, even though you hate that question, it needs to be asked.

Adam rolls the two of you over again, wiggling himself between your legs, cupping your face between his hands. “What do we do now?” he asks, mimicking your earlier question. You nod your head at him, not trusting your voice right now. “Now, I would like to go to sleep with my girlfriend, how about that?” Adam says, a smirk appearing on his face.

You can’t contain the smile on your face, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Your girlfriend would like that very much, boyfriend,” you whisper against his lips. His grin tells you everything you need to know, before he claims your lips with his again, and again, and again.

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starrybethany · 3 years

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I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 5

Word count: 4.0K

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Adam: You followed me

I stare at the three words, blinking with tired eyes. All I want to do is sleep, especially after the day I’ve had with Holden, but the baby decided kicking me was more important. So here I am at four o’clock in the morning checking my social media when I should be getting another three hours of sleep.

I rub my eyes, unsure of how to even respond to the message.

It’s just a statement. I feel flabbergasted by it- really, we haven’t talked in years- well, technically months, but the last time we saw each other we just fucked, and our child went to see him without my knowledge or consent. How the fuck am I supposed to respond to those three words?

Y/N: I think we need to talk.

I sigh, setting my phone down. Might as well get straight to the point. The sooner I tell him about the second baby and ask why he would see Holden without at least running it past me the better. I roll over, pulling the blanket tighter around me. Hopefully I can sleep at least a little bit longer. I’m going to need it to deal with the moody adolescent I’ll be seeing in the morning.

“I made some toast and bacon. Just let me just finish cutting up these strawberries and then breakfast will be ready,” I inform Holden as he hops down the stairs.

He picks up the filled plate waiting for him on the table, throwing the food into the trashcan and setting the plate on the counter, giving me an expectant look.

I stare blankly back at him. I know he’s waiting for a reaction. He wants me to blow up so then he feels okay yelling at me instead of starting the confrontation himself. Instead, I just say, “That’s wasteful.”

He rolls his eyes, grabbing his backpack from its usual spot by the door and making his way outside, letting it slam shut behind him. I release the breath that I’ve been holding in, popping a strawberry into my mouth.

I open my Instagram app to catch up on the posts that I’ve missed, freezing when I see that I’ve received a DM. I forgot that I sent a message to Adam last night. Well, technically this morning. After I sent the message, I passed out hard, and I thought the whole thing was a fever dream.

Adam: What about?

Adam: Here’s my number

My fingers tap the screen quietly as I add his phone number into my contacts, saving it and staring at it blankly.

Well. No time like the present.

Before I can even realize what I’m doing, before I can even think things through and decide what to say or whether this is a good idea or not, or hell, even what time it is in Chicago right now, I click on the phone icon.

I curse to myself, raising the phone to my ear. Absentmindedly, my hand raises to my mouth so I can chew on my fingernail. Nail-biting is a nervous habit that I gave up years ago, but I guess old habits die hard.

“Hello?” His groggy voice comes through the phone.

I can’t breathe.

The oxygen gets stuck in my lungs. All I can think about are his hands on my body, sliding down to grip my hips. The twinkle in his eyes as I would pull my shirt over my head.

And not to mention the last time I saw him. His hair is longer than he used to keep it, but it suits him. It looks good on him. And he bulked up since the last time I saw him, too- his abs definitely looked and felt like it, anyways.

“Hello?” He repeats, sounding more awake and borderline annoyed now.

“Adam,” I respond softly, suddenly feeling shy. Come on, where did my confidence go? I’ll need it to get through this conversation.

“Y/N,” he says, all sounds of annoyance out of his voice. “You actually called, I didn’t think that you would-“”Sorry for waking you up,” I blurt out, glancing at the clock and seeing that it’s seven in the morning here. Chicago is an hour behind Philadelphia- it’s what kept me from calling the boys on the team late at night for several years.

“Oh, no, no, don’t you ever worry about that,” he reassures me. It’s quiet. I know he’s waiting for me to speak, to let him know what I want to talk to him about, but I just can’t get the words out. I feel them stuck in my throat, clawing to escape. “So, how’s Holden?”

And there it is.

That question is what spurs me to speak, to dig into the man who hid a huge secret like that from me. But I guess I’m doing the same thing to him now.

“I don’t know, how is he, Adam?” I spit out.

He sighs. He sighs. I want to punch his perfect fucking face.

“If I had realized that you had such a problem with it-“”Such a problem with it?” I repeat, not believing my own ears. Suddenly I’m reminded of why I decided not to tell Adam about this baby and why he wasn’t ready to be in Holden’s life for thirteen years. Hell, it sounds like he’s still not ready.

“My son lied to me about his intentions of going to Chicago, traveled halfway across the country by himself, and saw someone who he’s never met before. Yes, I have a fucking problem with it,” I growl.

“Our son.”

“What?”

“He’s our son. You said my son.”

All I want to do right now is to reach through this tiny screen and hit him upside the head. Really, after I lay out all of my concerns, this is all he has to say to me?

“Whatever. When are you coming to Philadelphia next?” I question. I don’t want to air all of grievances and talk about the new baby over the phone. I’ve had enough communication classes to know that you need to see someone’s nonverbal behaviors instead just hearing what they have to say.

“Why? You want to see me?” Suggestion laces his tone.

No, asshole, you already got me pregnant again.

“Yes. We need to talk about Holden… and some other things,” my voice trails off at the end, not sure how to warn him about such big news.

“Some other things, eh? Well, I’ll be looking forward to that,” he responds, clearly thinking that it’s something regarding us and our relationship, well, our dislike or lust for one another or something, instead of picking up what I’m trying to hint at.

“Cool. So, can you take a trip to Philly sometime soon or are you going to wait until hockey season?” I inquire.

“I can take a trip there, just for you. And Holden, of course.”

I can’t help but let a small smile slip onto my face. That sentence shows me that he’d be a good dad if he just put in the effort. It infuriates me that he’s kept that from Holden for years just because he hasn’t felt like working towards a relationship with his son.

“Good. Let me know when you’re in town so we can meet up.”

“What? You’re not going to invite me to stay with you?”

“Goodbye, Adam.” I hang up before he can respond. All I can imagine the rest of the day is his reaction after that phone call. He would have that small, knowing smile on his face, pulling his phone out of his pocket every five minutes to check and see if he got a new text from me or to send the fifth one in a row to me- one that I still would not respond to.

And my heart skips a beat at the thought of that.

It’s been a week since the phone call and since Adam sent me a screenshot of his booked ticket to Philadelphia two weeks from then. For some reason, maybe it’s the stupid, hopeless romantic part in me, I had hoped that he would book his plane ticket and hotel room for that night or even the next day. But he told me he had some ‘lose ends’ to tie up in Chicago before leaving.

And it’s also been a week since Holden has said a word to me. I’ve tried talking to him. I’ve asked him about his day, his friends, cooked him his favorite meals all week, I even offered to take him to Target to get a new video game.

None of that has worked. And it hurts. It hurts knowing that after everything I’ve done for him and everything I’ve sacrificed for him, and how Adam has done none of that, he looks at Adam like a God and me like the scum on the bottom of his shoe.

I know it’s what I’m supposed to do as a mother, care for my son and make sure he’s happy, but it’s just- it’s just- ugh.

I start to feel my blood boil as my mom’s voice echoes in the back of my head. Life’s not fair.

It’s then that I realize that I’ve given him enough space and time to figure out his feelings and how he wants to proceed. I don’t want to give him too much space that he begins to resent me and feel like I don’t care about him.

I know that feeling all too well.

I knock on his bedroom door softly, waiting for him to open it before I just walk in. It creeks open slightly, and just as I expected, eyes matching my mom’s peek out to glare at me.

“Can I talk to you, Holden?”

He doesn’t respond, just stares at me.

“Please, you don’t even have to talk, just listen,” I beg.

Fortunately, he opens the door the rest of the way, watching as I walk into his room and sit gently on the edge of the bed. He sits down on his worn computer chair, laptop open to some video game I don’t recognize on his desk.

“I want to start by apologizing for yelling at you last week,” I begin, taking a deep breath. Apologizing isn’t something that comes easy to me- I grew up in a family where the words ‘I’m sorry’ were unheard of. My parents were always right, and I was always wrong.

“I realize it probably wasn’t easy for you to go to Chicago by yourself to meet your dad. Holden, I just want you to realize that I would do anything to protect you, and I love you with my whole heart so realizing that you were in such an emotionally taxing situation without talking to me about it first-“I pause to sniffle, starting to feel tears well up in my eyes. “I felt helpless. And I couldn’t stop wondering why you didn’t feel like you could share that with me and then I realized that it’s because I don’t share stuff with you either.”

He watches as I lift my sleeve, wiping the tears from under my eyes. His face is still blank, but his eyes look like they’ve softened. He’s understanding my words so far.

“So, yes, this baby is also Adam’s baby. And he did ask about you when I saw him back in February, but I let my pride get the best of me and I told him that he didn’t deserve to see you. I’m sorry for robbing you of meeting your father earlier,” I genuinely apologize, maintaining eye contact with my son.

He shifts in his seat, his hard exterior softening with every word. “Well, I’m sorry for calling you a shitty mother. And saying all of that other stuff. And, if it makes you feel better, I did go to the computer programming camp. I just saw Adam when we had a night off.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He nods.

“What did he tell you? About not being involved in your life?” I ask carefully, curious as to what Adam told Holden to turn him against me like that.

“He just told me that he was working through some stuff,” he shrugs, acting like he doesn’t care but I know my son well enough to tell that he does. “And he wasn’t ready until recently to meet me.”

I bite my tongue to keep it from releasing an insult towards Adam. “And how does that make you feel?”

“Honestly?” I nod, probing him to go on. “Pretty awful. I don’t think I want a relationship with him, mom.”

A mix of emotions run through my body at his word. I feel anxious, because now I have to tell him that Adam’s coming next week and will want to see him, sadness, because my son now recognizes how his father did not want be involved in his life, and anger toward Adam for making him feel like this in the first place.

“Well,” I cough awkwardly. “He’s coming to Philadelphia next week. I’m going to meet him to tell him about the baby. If you don’t want to see him, you don’t have to. It’s all up to you, bud.”

I stand up slowly, rubbing my belly as the baby begins to kick. He always seems to do that whenever I move even just a little bit- he’s an active little guy.

“Oh,” I turn back around just as I’m about to close the door. “How did you even find out who your father is?”

“Please mom, I’m not stupid,” he grins slyly at me, sliding his headphones onto his neck. “You lived in Chicago when you got pregnant with me and worked for the Blackhawks. I figured, since you said you worked a lot, the only guys you really had a chance to be with were on the team. And when I asked you about my dad for that project for school you said he was Swedish, so I just went to the Blackhawks roster in 2020 and found the Swedish players, messaging them some really uncomfortable and intrusive messages on Instagram.”

I chuckle at that, shaking my head. It will never not blow my mind how clever and smart he is. As I close the door to his bedroom, I hear him say, “On the plus side, Alex Nylander is a really nice guy.”

The day is finally here. Being eighteen weeks pregnant makes it really hard to hide my baby bump, but I somehow manage to find a baggy sweatshirt that I’ve stolen from one of my ex-boyfriends to cover it up. I don’t want to walk into the restaurant we’re meeting at and have him immediately know.

Somehow my jeans still fit on my legs, but I have a feeling by the end of this lunch they’ll be unbuttoned. It’s just the way it goes sometimes.

I get to the restaurant before Adam, just like how I planned it. I wanted time to scope out my exits in case I need to bail halfway through this meal- knowing Adam, it’s a possibility. I haven’t thought through what I was going to say too much.

I know I need to talk to him about why he would keep Holden going to Chicago to see him a secret from me, and we need to talk about the baby.

But mostly I just want to hear him grovel. The secret, sadistic part of me wants to hear him beg for forgiveness for making me raise my child by myself for the past thirteen years. I want to hear him admit that he fucked up- I’ve never heard Adam Boqvist admit that he fucked up before.

He shows up two minutes late.

I know because my phone is sitting face up on the table and I click on it every five seconds to see what time it is. I tell myself that if it gets ten minutes past noon and he’s still not here, I’m going home and giving up on dealing with Adam ever again.

But then he’s standing in front of me, familiar toothy grin on his face, black beanie on his shaggy hair, and a bouquet of red roses in his hand.

“You’re late,” I state sternly, not letting any sign of emotion onto my face. I need to let him know I mean business. I need to let him know that I’m never getting into bed with him ever again.

“Yeah, sorry, there was a line at the grocery store,” his grin begins to slip, but as he holds the bouquet out towards me, it takes over his face once again. “I got you these.”

“Thanks.”

I don’t make any movement towards them. His smile falls once again and I begin to feel guilty- he did buy these flowers for me, but he also impregnated me and left me twice.

He slides into the chair across the table from me, setting the flowers on the table and coughing awkwardly. “So, have you ordered yet?”

“Just water,” I respond shortly.

“Do you want to split a bottle of wine?”

“I’m not really a day drinker,” I eye him over the top of my menu, then go back to skimming through the items. It’s a charade, though. I already know what I want.

“Are you two ready to order?” The peppy waitress appears at our side, notepad open in her hand.

“I’ll have the chicken alfredo,” I announce, folding my menu.

“I’ll take that too. And a bottle of your sweetest wine, please,” the blonde orders, passing his menu to the waitress. When she leaves, he turns back to me. “I know you like the sweet stuff.”

I take a deep breath, deciding to cut to the chase. I’d rather get through this meal as soon as possible. The sooner we get done talking about this stuff, the sooner I can get out of here.

“Adam, I’m pregnant.”

He chokes on the sip of water he’s just taken from his glass, water dripping down his chin and landing on the table in front of him. I can’t help but watch with a content smile as he coughs, trying to catch his breath.

“Excuse me?” He utters through coughs, wiping his chin with a napkin.

“I’m pregnant,” I repeat. “I’m due in November.”

“Well, uh, congratulations,” he says unsurely.

I roll my eyes, muttering, “You clearly haven’t gotten smarter since last time.”

He seems to catch on to the hidden meaning behind my comment, his eyes widening. “Oh is it- since we-“”It’s your baby,” I conclude bluntly.

A smirk begins to spread across his face. I can’t believe it. He’s smirking just after I told him that he got me pregnant accidentally for the second time.

“Why do you have that look?” I snap.

“My little swimmers work pretty well, don’t they?” He inquires confidently, sipping from his water and succeeding this time.

I lean across the table, turning it on him. “I don’t know, do they? Are there any half-siblings that I need to worry about?”

The smirk is replaced by a look of genuineness now. It startles me, the sudden change of emotions. “No, it’s you, Y/N. It’s always been you.”

I lean back in my seat, the sudden seriousness too much for me to bear. I fiddle with the napkin sitting next to my glass, avoiding eye contact with him. “Yeah, so it’s a boy.”

“Another boy,” he echoes my very thoughts the moment I found out the sex.

I grin at the thought of my second child. When he’s been kicking me at night and keeping me awake, I think about what he’s going to be like. Is he going to cry a lot or is he going to be a quiet baby like Holden was? Will I have to keep an eye on him every minute or will I be able to get some breaks?

And what about when he’s older. Will he like hockey like his dad? Would he like the Flyers because we live in Philadelphia, or would he like the Blackhawks because his dad plays for them?

“Speaking of boys, how is Holden doing? He hasn’t been responding to my texts lately.” Adam means for the question to sound casual, but I can hear the undertone of worry in his voice. Maybe he isn’t as much of a shitty father as I think he is.

“He doesn’t want to talk to you,” I confess.

He doesn’t bother to hide the hurt on his face. I don’t expect him to. I know how it feels to feel unwanted and unloved by your child- I felt it when Holden told me that I’m a shitty mother. And although Adam deserves the consequences to his actions, I can’t help but feel a small amount of pity for him.

“I deserve that,” he sighs.

“You do,” I agree, knowing that I’m shoving the knife deeper into his heart. “But just give him time to decide what he wants to do. It’s all so fresh to him.”

He gives me a small, vulnerable smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me that he was going to see you while he was in Chicago, Adam?” I ask him the question I’ve been dying to ask ever since I found out about the situation.

He shrugs, not saying a word.

“Yes, you do know,” I persist. “So just fucking tell me. Enough of the bullshit, we’re in our thirties now. It’s time to focus on the children, not your fucking pride.”

He looks baffled by my sudden outburst, but it inspires him to answer. “I was afraid that if you found out, you would stop him. Then I’d never get to meet my son.”

“I would have stopped him,” I agreed, causing him to open his mouth to begin arguing with me. I start to speak again before he can begin. “And reschedule the trip to a time that works better with my work schedule so that I could go with him. Yes, you’re his father, but you’ve never been in his life. You’re essentially a stranger to him.”

He narrows his eyes at me like my words are a challenge. “Not anymore.”

I narrow my eyes at him now. “Really? What’s his middle name? When is his birthday? What’s his favorite color?”

He doesn’t respond and I scoff, taking a sip of my water again. “That’s what I thought.”

We’re quiet as the waitress returns with our meals. I cut my noodles, taking a bite of my food.

“I don’t want it to be that way with this baby,” he says, quickly adding, “And Holden anymore. I want to be there for this baby from the start. Or from now, I guess. And I want to be there for Holden, if he ever wants me.”

Mixed feelings begin to flush through my body. This is what I wanted for my kids from the beginning, an active father figure. And Adam’s offering it now, but why am I still feeling so hesitant?

After years of expecting him to step up as a parent and him never doing it, I have reasonable doubts when it comes to Adam’s parenting ability.

“Well, you know it’s up to Holden. You can’t force him to like you,” I begin slowly, trying to phrase my words in the best way possible. “But with this second baby… we can try it. I have a doctor’s appointment in two days. I’ll text you the address and time.”

“But my flight leaves tomorrow,” he whines. “Can’t you just reschedule for today?”

“You have so much to learn, Adam,” I shake my head. “I just hope you realize that being a parent means that you’re selfless more than selfish. Tell you what, go back to Chicago if you want to. But if you go back to Chicago, the only time you’ll communicate with the boys is when they want to talk to you.”

#Adam Boqvist imagine #NHL imagines #hockey imagines #Adam boqvist #Adam Boqvist x reader #bimsure

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savoies · 4 years

Text

happy new year! - kirby dach.

summary: entering the new year with kirby and friends.

word count: 768.

warnings: one or two slight bad words, come on they're hockey boys and mentions of alcohol.

a/n: happy new years eve or new years for those in different timezones. i got many nye ideas (thank you) but i couldn't sleep at 2am so decided to write the simplest one. enjoy! thanks to all the anons who helped form ideas into this blurb! also @makarsy thank you for all the help!! ily.

Taglist (on blog info found in bio): @hartsyhart @boesxr @mitch-slap @frostythegoalman @kirbysdch @aria253264 @thelionkingpw @damn-dunner-29 @josty @kaitieskidmore1 @kiedhara @laurenairay @teenagekook @alxvlasic @hockeyallthetime @barzy-baby @bigboigritty @puckshitbitch @makarsy @mems06 @dunnwithlyfe @connormcdavo .

tagging a few friends: @allisonxmoynihan @bestestbenn @vinceduhn .

(*credit to gif owner*)

Adam was throwing a small new years party. honestly it was a simple way to get drunk and dress up with friends (well those who were of age of course). you and kirby were well not of age but to adam's extent because he really wanted you to go for some reason, there was apple cider. Which of course you were always quite excited for.

so fast forward a few hours here you were in your shared apartment running around trying to get ready for the party which somehow you were running late to according to kirby because you had to get there at five and not six.

"we are running late! Hurry up." Kirby said as he pulled his pants up.

"Oh says the one who has their pants half up. Also this is your fault for wanting to take a pre-party nap." You told him as you placed the finishing touches of your outfit.

"Hey if you want me to stay up till midnight i needed it." Kirby looked at you all defensive.

"I still don't understand why we have to be there so early. I mean what are we gonna do for five hours." You told him as both of you headed out the door.

Your relationship with Kirby to say the least was odd. You were friends for a while and before he left for wjc you guys had even gone on a few dates. But since his injury and coming back to Chicago you didn't really know where both of you stood. I guess you would find out tonight in the answer of receiving a midnight kiss or not.

"Adam will have something figured out, or at least i hope so." Kirby said as he reached for your hand and a small blush arose on your cheeks.

~~~

Soon upon arriving at Adam's apartment you walked in and around stood a few of Kirby's teammates and their so's.

"Look who finally decided to join us." Adam spoke as he hugged both of you and guided you to the kitchen.

After some time everyone was sat down wherever they could find a spot watching some of the boys play a videogame.

"When you said Adam would think of something i didn't think everyone would be playing video games in fancy clothes but honestly i like the vibe." You whispered in Kirby's ear as you got up and got a drink from the kitchen.

"So are you going to get a midnight kiss tonight?" Adam asked you as he walked up to you with a drink in hand.

"Oh im not really sure." You laughed trying to cover up a hint of sadness cause honestly you had no idea whatsoever.

"Well i can tell you that Kirby likes you hell even loves you. Anyone can see it from a mile away." Adam spoke up with a slight slur to his words. You pushed the thoughts to the back of your mind thinking that it was just the alcohol talking but as you stood in the kitchen talking to one of his closest friends Kirby couldn't stop himself staring at you imagining what it would be like to kiss you at midnight.

~~~~

Ten minutes before the countdown all of you stood in the kitchen with some sort of beverage in your cup. Couples wrapped up in eachothers arms. Kirby's hand around your waist. As time ran out you were happy to just spend it with him. Kiss or no kiss.

~~~

Time squares ball drop streamed on the TV in front of you as five minutes were shown on the screen.

~~~

10…

You looked all around everyone starting to countdown.

9…

You looked up at Kirby as he was already starting down at you.

8…

"Look im not sure where we stand..." Kirby spoke up.

7…

"But i like you a lot. I mean i might even love you…"

6…

"And im not saying this to scare you away…"

5…

"But i just needed to tell you…"

4….

"Kirby I love you too." You told him.

3..2..1

"Ahh fuck it." He said as he leaned in and kissed you into the last few seconds until midnight.

"Happy New Year!" Was heard all throughout the small apartment. You were glad to ring in the new year with Kirby and your friends surrounding you.

“Ready for a whole year of this?” Kirby looked up at you.

"I think i can handle it." You said as you placed a quick peck on his lips and parted as you hugged your friends thinking of all the new memories to come.

#ari speaks #hockey boys #hockey #kirby dach #kirby dach x reader #team canada #chicago blackhawks #adam boqvist #nhl blurbs #nhl blurb #hockey blurbs #hockey blurb #ari writes

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jostystyles · 3 years

Text

the red tv collection

it’s me again. announcing another collection. will I finish? who knows. but i’m confident in this one. this collection will be a whirlwind, so I chose my favorite tracks to write for! let me know if you want to be tagged here. note that these may be posted out of order!

all too well (10 minute version)

sidney crosby x reader, ft. nathan mackinnon and jt compher

state of grace

adam boqvist x reader

the moment I knew

matthew tkachuk x reader

stay stay stay

jt compher x reader

begin again

tyson jost x reader

on a wednesday in a cafe

i almost do

mat barzal x reader

treacherous

nolan patrick x reader

i bet you think about me

tyler seguin x reader

everything has changed

quinn hughes x reader

ronan

erik johnson x reader

babe (taylor’s version)

kevin hayes x reader

tagging some mutuals to boost:

@2manytabsopen @haydsfleury @comphybiscuit @princessphilly @laurenairay @denis-scorianov @ilyasorokinn @nightmareonspookystreet @joelsfarabees @suitandtys @perpetually-anxious @jackydrury @sebbyaho @islesnucks @islescanes @tysonbaerrie @tysonjost-taylorsversion @stardusttkachuk @hachzyman @barznasty2point0 @quinnjackluke @huggybearmylove43 @broadstbroskis @youngbeezer @broadstflyers @owennpower @fallinallincurls @heybarzy @cherrylita @mattyanonwrites @rosesvioletshardy if I forgot to tag u im sorry <3

#emmie speaks #emmie writes #did i choose adam bc of the lyrics twin fire signs four blue eyes bc he’s a leo? yes #nhl imagine #red tv collection #nhl fic #mat barzal x reader #tyson jost x reader #nolan patrick x reader #tyler seguin x reader #quinn hughes x reader #tyson jost imagine #colorado avalanche #new york islanders

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robinofgothamcity · 3 years

Text

♡ starting prompt: “for how long? for how long were you bottling this up?”

♡ pairing: kirby dach (chicago blackhawks) x fem reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “I used to hear a simple song. that was until you came along. now in its place I hear something new. I hear it when I look at you.”

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes

you sat at your computer, typing away at work you had to get done for an internship. it was work you were putting off for a while now and you had to finally bite down and get it done.

“hey, what are you doing right now?” your friend Aniya asked as you picked up the third frantic phone call from her, “work I need to get done for school. what do you need from me that you’re calling me for the third time?” you asked a bit annoyed.

she rolled her eyes from the other side of the phone, “listen, I know you’ve been having issues with him so I want you to come out with us tonight,” she exclaimed, “I don’t care if you’re overwhelmed with work or not. you need to get over this slump and realize there’s more to you than Kirby fuckin’ Dach right now.”

you slid down your chair, growling in response, “I don’t wanna and if I don’t want too, you can’t make me,” you tried to fight back which only earned a laugh in return, “yeah right! see you tonight at nine! we’re going to be at Falco’s so see you there!” she blurted out before hanging up the phone.

you looked down at the clock, seeing that it read five in the afternoon. you had been in the coffee shop for a little over three hours and while the first hour and a half was spent with you just procrastinating, the remaining time was you actually working and getting most of it done.

however!

looking at the time, you realized you might as well get up and leave before it got any later. you knew you had time to go out with your friends but you recent fall out with Kirby made it almost nearly impossible to do as such.

the fallout was one you saw coming for a while now.

between your schooling and interning and Kirby’s career, the time you had with each other was rare. you tried to make time for him, you really did, but Kirby ultimately put down the times you asked to hang out with him. he usually said it was because he was hanging with a few teammates and while that was true, you had also saw a few of his girl friends with him.

you weren’t a jealous girl, not by a long shot but it was hard to see your boyfriend with a bunch of girls hanging out and not inviting you. you tried to remain calm about the situation but eventually, it got too into your head and you confronted him about it.

“you know what Kirby?” you whispered to him, not looking at him anymore, “I’m tired. I don’t know you anymore and you could care less about me. how about I do us both a favor and just end this now?”

Kirby’s eyes widened at what he was hearing.

“I never said I cared less about you!”

“it feels like it, Dach! all I ask for you is hang out with me when you have the time and be around when you can but the last three times I asked to hang out and get dinner, you’ve denied me saying you were going to be with ‘the boys’ and then what do I see? you with Boqvist and a bunch of other girls! hanging out and having a good time. do you know how much that hurts? seeing your boyfriend surrounded by a bunch of girls and not even giving you the time of day anymore?

Kirby looked at the ground, knowing what you were saying was true, “how long? how long were you bottling this up?” he finally asked.

“too long, I guess but like I said before, let me do us a favor and break it off here. I love you, I really do but I’m tired of not being prioritized. I’m tired of coming second, third, and fourth place in your life. I’m tired of having to beg for the attention of my damn boyfriend at this point,” you tried to contain your tears but couldn’t, “I knew our lives were very different from the very moment we meant but I never thought we’d end for a reason like this. maybe Aniyah had a point....maybe our lives are too different from each other and that this wouldn’t work out.

you grabbed your bag, slinging it over you and your wallet that was on his table. you could see the panic in his eyes as he tried to say make up something to say but failing to do so.

“so you’re ending it then?” Kirby asked from the door of his apartment. you gave him a teary eyed look, “I don’t want too but you’re making it hard to be with you so yeah, I guess I am.”

you grabbed your CTA card from your wallet and opening the door of his apartment building to catch the nearest CTA train home. Kirby hated when you rode the train so late but you weren’t about to give him the benefit of driving you back home.

throughout the entire train ride home, you had gotten a dozen texts from Kirby, asking you if you were safe and to at least text him when you got home but after what felt like the 100th text, you blocked his number, his Snap, and any socials he had left.

it even got to the point where Adam had to message you to ask if you were okay. you knew that he would go back and text Kirby so you didn’t bother to reply to his text either.

once you got home, you slumped your backpack onto the couch and ate leftovers you had from yesterday. you were in no mood to cook and you knew since Aniyah was expecting you to meet her at Falco’s, your time had to go to getting ready.

the food felt bland in your mouth as you tried to hype yourself up for the outting. it would have been a lot better if Kirby was going with you but putting that thought aside, you threw the rest of the food away and went to your bathroom to start getting ready.

you figured since Falco’s wasn’t really a hugely popular bar in Chicago, the idea that anyone cute would be there went out the window. the only ones who knew of Falco was you, Aniyah, and Kirby who you had brought with you a few times.

the makeup you applied was very light and the outfit was on the simpler side. since you weren’t trying to get anyone’s attention, flying under the radar in terms of looks, you knew doing the bare minimum would do the trick.

by the time you finished getting ready, it was already 8:30 and Falco’s was on the other side of town. you caught the last train to the other end of town and walked the rest of way there. when you finally arrived, you saw the place a bit more packed than usual.

“( your name )! over here!” you heard Aniyah’s scream from a table. you gave them a wave and a small smile before sliding into the booth, “these are my friends! Michael and Trey!” she introduced you.

you shook their hands and introduced yourself to them as all of you ordered a few round of drinks. since Kirby was only 20, whenever you invited him out to bars or the like, he tended to be the one to carry you back home when you got a bit too drunk.

“so, where do you go to school?” Michael asked, as he took a sip of his drink, “oh, I go to a smaller school here in Chicago,” you replied. he nodded understandingly, “oh shit,” you heard Aniyah’s voice say from underneath her breath.

you gave her a look as she pointed at who walked in. you followed her finger and were immediately taken back when you saw it was not only Kirby but Adam, Alex, Dylan, and his girlfriend as well.

“we’ll be back in one second,” Aniyah told Michael and Trey before dragging you away to the single stall bathrooms, “girl, I had no idea they would be here. you know I would never do this to you,” she said frantically, “I swear, they just had to show up, didn’t they?”

“Aniyah, it’s okay. I just wish I would have dressed a bit better considering he’s here,” you murmured under your breath. Aniyah smirked, seeing your outfit, “well, just take off the jacket, the shirt your wearing is already doing you justice by being a crop and the shorts look amazing on you as it is,” she said snatching the jacket off of you.

the two of you spent a bit more time in the bathroom, restyling your outfit a bit more before walking out. you made a beeline to the bar, ordering all four of you shots of tequila.

“he’s looking at you, you know?” Aniyah murmured as you shrugged, “serves him right,” you replied before giving Michael a smile and look at the three of them, “bottoms up!” you exclaimed before taking the shot and chugging it down with ease.

all of you cheered at Michael called for another round of shots to the table but before they could get there, Dylan’s girlfriend came up to the table and gave you a hug.

“hi, how have you been?” she asked as she let you go, “fine! just getting a few drinks with some friends! how are you?” you asked as hesitantly as possible. you knew she meant no harm but whenever the four hung out with each other, it was rare when she tagged and only did if you were coming along.

“ah, fine. just here with Dylan and a few of the boys. I know with you and Kirby, it must be a bit awkward, huh?” she said a bit awkwardly. you gave her a small smile, “I guess but I gotta go before they start thinking I left them. I’m a few tables over so if you want to take a shot with us, come by!” you said giving her a quick peck on the cheek before leaving.

Aniyah gave you a look, quickly telling you to spill but you shot it down as all of your shots were brought to the table.

throughout the night, you got progressively more drunk. the tequila shots were hitting a bit harder than you thought and before you knew it, any shy bone in your body quickly went away when the sixth shot entered your body. Aniyah knew that your drunk persona was not who you were sober.

“does she really get this way when she’s drunk?” Michael asked, seeing you singing into the half full bottle of Smirnoff Ice. Aniyah laughed, “she does! trust me, one time she got onto a table at a friendsgiving dinner and sang every word to Girls in The Hood without messing up.”

the three of them laughed as you grabbed another shot and chugged it down, “oh my god I love this song!” you told Aniyah as you grabbed her by the hand and shook her, “I’m gonna go see if Tayler is available!” you exclaimed as you jumped over Michael to get to where Dylan’s girlfriend was.

Aniyah immediately got up and chased you to the table but was too late. you were already grabbing her by the hand and dragging her up, “oh my god, you’re plastered,” she giggled, seeing the drunk in your eyes, “I haven’t seen her this drunk since your birthday!” Dylan added on.

Aniyah got to the table and grabbed you by the hand, “Michael bought everyone a shot, we should go and take it together,” Aniyah murmured in your ear. you shrugged, “tell him to wait a second, I’m talking to her!” you responded as Tayler laughed, enjoying your new found confidence.

“god, I haven’t seen you this plastered since you know when,” Aniyah growled, giving Kirby a side eye. all he did was watch the table you were sitting at and seeing the boy named Michael giving you look of what he saw as lust, “aww, hi Dylan! hi Adam and Alex!” you said excitedly.

they gave you waves as they tried to not look in Kirby’s direction. you hadn’t spared him a look as you saw Michael heading over your way, “hey, you guys coming? Trey wants to know if you’re heading back to his place to continue drinking.”

you had never heard silence this loud. although everyone in the bar was still talking and drinking, the air immediately turned stiff. Michael had his arm around your shoulder, “uh, yeah? one second!” Aniyah said seeing as you weren’t even in the right headspace to be going anywhere.

“she can’t. she’s heading home,” Kirby finally spoke up. Aniyah, Michael, and everyone else looked to see Kirby’s dead serious face, “I think I might’ve missed something. who are you?” Michael asked looking to Kirby.

Aniyah and Tayler saw the rage building up in Kirby’s eyes, “her boyfriend, can I ask who you are?” he replied, not taking his eyes off of him. Michael laughed, “her supposed date. I thought she was single,” he said with a smirk that ticked Kirby off more than it should have.

“sorry, you aren’t. she’s too drunk to be going anywhere that isn’t her house so how about you get moving before this turns into something you don’t want coming.”

Michael laughed, putting his hands on the table, “or you’re gonna do what?” Kirby rolled the sleeves of his button up up making Adam and Dylan start to get nervous, “playing professional hockey has its perks,” he replied.

“no, what you’re not going to do is create a scene in this bar. Kirby, you’re a professional. if you want, you can take her home if you’d like but you’re not getting into trouble for something marginally stupid as an argument.”

Aniyah gave Kirby a look before motioning to Trey to come and get Michael before he did anything stupid. you on the other hand were too busy sitting next to Adam and singing whatever song was playing through the speakers to realize what was going on.

“come on, lets get you home,” Kirby murmured into your ear. you gave Kirby a confused, “no! you’re not my boyfriend anymore so I go where Aniyah goes!” you said through slurred words.

“I don’t want to seem like a dick but you got to go home and you’re going home right now. you’re too drunk to understand anything or anyone.”

you didn’t bother to fight as you felt an overwhelming feeling of tiredness hit you. you usually got like that when you got drunk.

after Aniyah gave Kirby your bag with your house keys, he hitched a ride from Dylan to get back to your place. they could all sense the anger in Kirby as he was still sitting on the argument. it was pretty wild to see Kirby so angry but when it came to you, they knew he would do anything for you.

he thanked Dylan for the ride as he grabbed your arm and slung it over his should, carrying you inside. the trip to your apartment was struggle as you kept talking gibberish to yourself and making Kirby laugh.

as soon as he got your door open, he took off your shoes and place you in bed, making sure you were at least comfortable enough to fall asleep. by the time he had placed you in bed, you were snoring your life away against the pillow.

Kirby knew it was best to sleep on the couch to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself if you were still drunk when you got up. he grabbed the small throw pillow and a blanket you kept underneath the couch and tried to get comfortable as possible.

it hit five in the morning when Kirby heard throwing up sounds from the bathroom. he slowly got up from bed and saw you hunched over the toilet bowl.

“you okay?” he finally spoke up, making you jump in fear. you gave him an angry look, “what the hell are you doing here?” you asked, confused as to why he was here.

“I had to take you home from Falco’s. you were extremely drunk and were about to do something you were probably going to regret the minute Aniyah left you so she gave me the keys to your house and let me watch over you until you got up.”

you sighed, “where is Aniyah?” you asked. “home. she had to calm down the guys she brought because he was trying to cause a scene inside the bar and told me just to take you home before any news of me getting into a fight broke out into the news,” he explained.

you leaned up against the wall, giving him a defeating look, “what do you want with me, Kirby? I appreciate you taking care of me but what do you want as a return?” you replied.

Kirby kneeled onto one knee and looked at you, “to give me a second chance. I know I fucked up. I fucked up so bad but these last few weeks have been hell. I miss you calling me after every game and having dinner through a facetime call. I miss your voice first thing in the morning. I just want you to give me one more chance and if I fuck up, you’ll never have to hear from me again. I swear!” he said, almost pleadingly.

you stared at Kirby, trying to see if he was being truthful. you could tell behind the eyes of desperation, he was telling the truth.

“one more chance and if you ruin it, we’re done.” Kirby went in to kiss you as you immediately dodged it, “first of all, I need to brush my teeth and you won’t be kissing me at least for another few days. you could suffer some more,” you joked, giving him a wink.

he growled playfully and watched as you brushed your teeth, “but you can snuggle me while I sleep off this hangover,” you said as he happily followed you back into bed.

#nhl #nhl imagine #chicago blackhawks #blackhawks #kirby dach #kirby dach imagine #kirby dach x reader #hockey #hockey imagine #imagine #kirby dach x you #nhl fic

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caileeflavoured · 4 years

Text

nsfw alphabet - adam boqvist

THIS IS MY WORK AND YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO REPOST IT!

a/n: listen, i love these so i wanted to make one myself. i basically got the idea cause i was thinking about letter c. enjoy and please share your thoughts with me!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

not too much into aftercare

will bring you a towel if you’re too exhausted to get it yourself but usually does his own thing afterwards

lets you cuddle him though and secretly loves it

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he likes his arms, mainly cause of the tattoos

he’s obsessed with your ass

an ass man through and through and i’ll die on that hill

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

loves to cum on your body or even your face

respects it if you’re not into it though

but if you are, oh lord

loves to collect it from your body and feed it to you

having you lick it off his fingers and suck them clean

will most likely get hard again just by the sight of it

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he doesn’t have the craziest dirty secret

but he’s obsessed with marking

either him marking you up or you leaving scratches on his back

will take the chirping for the scratches any day

loves to leave hickeys on your inner thighs, ass, around your pussy

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

listen, he’s young

there isn’t a lot of experience but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing

it means he’s open to experience new things and learn how to please you

definitely listens to you and tries his best to do the right thing

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

i said he’s ass man okay

so he’s obviously obsessed with taking you from behind

also super into reverse cowgirl cause - ass

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

not necessarily goofy

but he can definitely laugh during awkward moments

it totally takes away the awkwardness and you love him for it

he just doesn’t take himself too seriously

overall he’s rather serious though

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

very well groomed

if not completely shaved then definitely nicely trimmed

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

70/30

sometimes he loves to be romantic

especially if you haven’t seen each other in a while

or on special occasions (anniversary, v day, whatever)

most of the time you’re getting no romance

especially when they lost or when he had a really good game

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

can’t survive roadies without it

has a separate folder with filthy pics

prefers when you give him a handjob though

whenever he’s masturbation he’s thinking about your lips wrapped around him

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

handcuffs or anything that will basically force you to be submissive (with consent obv!)

he just loves to be in charge

not too much into ropes cause they’re more complicated

if he doesn’t have handcuffs he’ll just use one of his ties

also - and idk if that’s even a kink but anyways - squirting kink

boosts his self esteem like nothing else and he definitely doesn’t care if it gets messy

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

definitely bedroom

it’s just the perfect place to really take your time and experiment as much as possible

also on the couch the living room

that’s the only place he’d let you take control when you end up riding him whenever whatever’s on tv gets boring

kitchen too, bending you over the counter? 10/10 for him

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

lingerie turns him tf on

which is why he’ll buy tons of it

and - cliché - seeing his name on your back gets him going immediately

which is why after pretty much every game you go to he’ll absolutely rail you

in general just taking over and having you as his little cumslut sorry not sorry

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything you’re not comfortable with or anything that could potentially hurt you

biggest no is sex toys on him and/or pegging

he’s a lil pussy when it comes to those kinds of experiments

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

loves to receive

asks you all the time to suck him off even when he’s just half hard

will give cause you enjoy it

like i mentioned earlier, he listens

so with your instructions he’ll eat you out like a young god

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

this one goes hand in hand with intimacy

when he’s in a more romantic mood he’ll go slow and sensual

most of the time he’s rather fast and rough though

especially when he’s taking you from behind

he can get so rough you won’t be able to hold yourself up anymore

when you’re on top he’ll let you set the pace for a while but will eventually fuck up into you

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

i think pretty much like any other guy he likes them

doesn’t happen too often, especially when you’re not into them

but he loves to do it in fitting booths

calls it his ‘reward’ for going shopping with you

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

experiment? hell yes

he’s open to almost anything

like i said, little bit of an exhibitionist

doesn’t like the idea of getting caught and especially not of others hearing your desperate moans but if he needs it he’ll do it semi-public too

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

lasts long but usually not more than one round

he’s an athlete but just cause he’s working out a lot doesn’t mean he’ll work out his dick too

makes sure you come first though and will last until then

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

doesn’t own toys for himself (like i said, lil pussy)

if you have some and he discovers them he’ll beg you to let him use them on you

they’re also his favorite thing to tease you with

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

depends on his mood

he definitely enjoys to tease you cause he loves the way you squirm underneath him

loves to be the one in control, having you beg for it once in a while

it’s what gets him going

when he’s had a great game the teasing will be crazy

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

oh he’s loud

grunting, groaning, cursing

all the stuff we love to hear

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

like i mentioned earlier: filthy photos

loves to capture the moment

close-ups of your face when you’re about to come

or with his cum on it

or of your wet pussy

bonus if he just came in you and his cum is dripping out of you

and when he’s pushing it back in with his fingers

also other photos of you in his favorite lingerie

whatever it is that y’all have done, he most likely has a photo of it

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he’s a d man, so he’s big

not huge but a little more than average

also a little more on the thicker side

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH

he’s a horny little shit

needs it everyday

wants to do it all day long on days off and actually gets pissed when his body’s aching from practice and sex is too exhausting

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

not too quickly

he loves to chill for a bit and that’s usually what makes him tired

taglist: @aereres @marnstkachuk

#adam boqvist #adam boqvist x reader #adam boqvist smut #adam boqvist headcanon

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ilyasorokinn · 3 years

Text

off limits , adam boqvist

note, this was a request made by @will-ny-the-swedish-guy (i'm sorry it wouldn’t let me tag you), so thank you. again, request are open, just check the list of players i write for :) pair, adam boqvist x dach!reader summary/request, “Could you do one where Adam is dating Kirby’s sister after Kirby made it clear she was off-limits for the whole team. Kirby somehow finds out and us super protective over her but comes around after seeing them together.” warnings, this fic takes place while adam is still in chicago, so brent seabrook is in like one scene. word count, 2040 words

(gif not mine)

When Kirby got word that you, his younger sister, his best friend, was moving to Chicago, he made sure to tell all the singles on his team that you were off-limits. That if they even looked at you the wrong way, he would murder them, and they listened.

When you got to Chicago, they were all nice to you, shaking your hand, giving you a smile, then walking away. To say you were surprised was an understatement. That wasn’t what you were expecting from single, young hot hockey players. You knew about all the rumors that floated around hockey players.

You had been living in Chicago for a few months and were just getting used to it. Your schedule was mainly wake up, get ready and get to class just in time. Maybe treat yourself to a cup of coffee, then go back home to do homework, and wait for Kirby to get home so then you can start on dinner. After dinner, you usually worked on more homework, then went to sleep and repeated it the next day.

Sometimes, Kirby had a few guys over, and when they did, one guy, in particular, helped out on dinner. Well... he attempted to help, “Hey.” Adam popped his head into the kitchen, “Need any help?” He offered.

“Um, you could start boiling the water for pasta.” You told him, “And don’t forget-”

“To salt the water. I know.” He nodded, making you smile. You two cooked and made conversation.

You were vaguely aware of the rule Kirby had set. You knew he would lose his mind if he ever found out you and Adam were together, so you just didn’t tell him. It would probably blowback in your face, and be a really horrible scene to deal with, but you lived your life in the moment.

You and Adam had secretly been dating behind Kirby’s back for about 3 months. You are both happy, but keeping things from Kirby was especially hard. You lived in the same house as him, so you would often spend time at Adam’s place.

“You know,” You began, catching his attention, like the two you laid in bed, your head on his chest, and his hand running through strands of your hair, “We’re gonna have to tell him eventually.”

“Can we wait a while before we tell him?” Adam asked you.

“Adam…” You sighed, sitting up and looking at him.

“Look, I don’t like sneaking behind his back any more than you do. But, the moment he finds out about us, you know what’ll happen.”

“I do, which is why I think we should tell him sooner or later.” You laid your head back down on Adam’s chest, letting him continue to play with your hair.

“Soon.” Was all Adam said before he kissed your head, and the two of you fell asleep.

You were standing in Adam’s kitchen making breakfast for yourself. He stumbled into the kitchen and saw you humming to yourself over the stove as you flipped pancakes.

He smiled, sneaking up behind you, and wrapping his arms around you. You jumped in shock, “Hi.” You smiled at him once you recovered from the jump scare.

“Good morning.” He greeted.

“I didn’t expect you to be up so early.” You glanced back to the clock on the wall.

“Well, I woke up and you weren’t there.” He shrugged, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. He reached over for the cereal box.

You plated the last pancake right as Adam poured his cereal into a bowl. You watched him pour his milk in, then his cereal, and made a face at him, “What?” He asked, putting the milk away.

“You're just really weird.” You told him.

“Why?” He asked.

“You put the milk, then the cereal.” You told him, “A normal person would put their cereal, and then their milk.”

“Do they?” He raised a brow.

“Yes, Adam, they do.” You nodded.

“I don’t do that. What does that make me?”

“A big weirdo.” You joked with a smile on your face. A smile settled on his face as he dug into his cereal. You heard a knock on his door and went to answer it, but stopped when you heard the voice on the other end.

“Adam? You up?” Kirby asked. You stopped and turned back to Adam, who shared a worried look with you.

“What’s he doing here?” You whispered over to Adam as you tip-toed away from the front door.

“I don’t know.” Adam shrugged, “Go hide.” He pushed you in the direction of the bathroom. Once he knew you were hidden in the bathroom, he finally opened the door.

You tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to make any startling noise, “I’m kind of worried about Y/N.” You heard Kirby say.

“She’s been staying with her friends a lot, and I know she’s safe and all, but I’m still her older brother. It’s my job to worry about her.” Kirby told Adam.

“Yeah.” Adam nodded along, probably panicking like crazy on the inside. You continued to listen to your brother and boyfriend talk from the bathroom and felt something shift inside of you.

The only thing at the forefront of your mind while you listened was that you couldn’t keep this secret any longer. You had to tell Kirby before things got too out of hand.

A few weeks had passed since your talk with Adam, and Kirby still had no idea, or so you thought. You walked through the door after school and were ready to watch a few episodes of Criminal Minds and maybe take a nap.

You were setting your stuff down and taking off your shoes, and walked into the kitchen, where Kirby was standing while Adam was sitting at the counter. You could feel the tension in the room, “Um, hi.” You greeted awkwardly.

“Now that you’re both here, we can begin.” Kirby gestured for you to sit, which you did. You sat down on the stool next to Adam and watched Kirby cautiously.

“What’s this all about?” You asked.

“This is about you and Adam.” You felt your heartbeat pick up, “So, how long have you two been sleeping together?”

“Kirby, it’s not like that.” You began.

“Just tell me.” He demanded.

“We’re not just sleeping together. We’re together.” You told him.

“That’s even worse,” Kirby exclaimed, throwing his hands around.

“Here we go.” You muttered, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms.

“I explicitly told all of you that she was off-limits. And what do you do? You go and start dating her.” Kirby was getting passionate, and he was starting to get louder.

“Okay, let’s keep our voices down.” You told Kirby.

He quieted down, “What the hell, man?”

“Kirby, I’m sorry. But this isn’t just some hook-up. We’re dating, and I really like her.” Adam defended. Kirby threw his hands up, “Really. I really do.”

“The only reason we didn’t tell you is that we knew you would react like this.” You added.

“React like what?”

“Wildly overprotective. You’re blowing things way out of proportion. I’m a grown woman, and I am old enough to make my own decisions. I don’t need you to protect me from Tommy cause he pulled my pigtails during recess. Trust me and trust that I can make good decisions for myself.” You watched Kirby’s face switch from anger to understanding to hurt to guilt.

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He, instead, walked out of the kitchen and headed to his room. You looked back over at Adam, and sighed, “We should give him a few days to cool off, or something.” You suggested.

“You wanna come over and stay with me?” Adam suggested. You nodded, getting out of the chair and leading him in the direction of your room so you could pack up a few things.

A few days had passed, but Kirby still couldn’t bring himself to face you and Adam. He felt bad, but at the same time, he felt betrayed. The one thing he told all the singles before you came to Chicago was that you were off-limits. He told all of them to stay away from you, but Adam didn’t listen to him at all.

You and Adam, on the other hand, were doing fine. You would wake up together and go to sleep together, make breakfast together. It was a nice change. But, there was still a huge pit of anxiety and nerves pooling in your stomach. You still hadn’t seen or heard from Kirby, and it was breaking your heart.

There was a family skate event, which meant that you would have to see Kirby, and that was the thing you weren’t exactly jazzed about, “You ready?” Adam asked, getting into the car and breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah.” You nodded.

“All right then.” Adam started the car and drove out of the parking lot of his apartment complex. You drove to the rink relatively in silence. There was a little bit of talking, but for the most part, no words were spoken between you.

You were both nervous about seeing Kirby, and confronting him, or him confronting you and things getting ugly. The walk from your car to the rink was a quiet one. You both let out a sigh in relief when you saw that Kirby hadn’t arrived yet.

You got your skates on and began skating around together. One of the Seabrook girls stumbled over to you and Adam, and grabbed both of your hands, and skated in-between you.

Kirby arrived half an hour after you and Adam had, and watched you and Adam skate around with the youngest Seabrook daughter. You grabbed onto her hands and skated backgrounds while Adam held his hands around her little waist.

He rolled his eyes but started to put on his skates. His head was spinning as he tied the skates, “So…” He looked up at Brent.

“So…” He nodded.

“What’s up with you and Adam?” He asked.

“Nothings wrong.” Kirby denied.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Brent rolled his eyes.

“He’s dating my sister,” Kirby muttered bitterly.

“Ahh.” Brent nodded, looking back over to where you and Adam were helping his daughter, “Look, kid, I think you gotta let that go.” Kirby looked up at him bewildered.

“What? No!” He exclaimed, standing up angrily.

“Look over there.” He pointed over to where you and Adam were laughing, along with his daughter, “Do you see anything in their faces that say they did this to hurt you or anything like that?” He asked

Kirby observed you for another moment, before shaking his head, “They really like each other. And I might not understand what it’s like to have a sister, but I do have daughters. And I made a promise that they’d never get hurt, but your sister is already 19. She can take care of herself. And she’s old enough to make her own judgment.”

Kirby stood there, taking everything in, “You’re right.” He stated.

“Yeah, I know,” Brent smirked, before patting Kirby on the back and skating away. You looked up and saw Kirby looking at you. You smiled at him for a second, before turning your attention back to Adam and Dylan.

He skated up to you and Adam. You both straightened up as he got closer to you two, “Hi.” He smiled nervously at you.

“Hi.” You both responded just as nervously.

“I’m really sorry.” He apologized, looking guilty, “You’re old enough to make your own decisions, and I should have never gotten angry at you.” He looked at you.

“It’s okay, Kirbs. But, I’m sorry too. We never should’ve gone behind your back.” You smiled at your older brother.

Kirby nodded appreciatively, then looked over to Adam, “I’m sorry too, man.”

“Me too.” Adam nodded. You looked at your brother, before wasting no time, and hugging him. Kirby was surprised for a moment but hugged you back. He smiled, then looked over at Adam from above your head.

‘I’ll kill you if you hurt her.’ He mouthed and Adam nodded his head, a smile on his face.

my taglist: @honeybearbarzal @raysofcrosby @2manytabsopen @punkharts @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @Dylancozzys @taiter-tots-ponies @stars-canucks @besthockeyfics @Honda1430 @joshsandersons @ana-maa @mitch-slap @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @lovethepreds @lmao-i-only-know-hockey @andrewdrea99 @boqvistsbabe @puckinrightschicagoo @jamiesdrysdales @calgarycanuck @caitlinsolomon3

add yourself to my taglist!

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ilyasorokinn · 3 years

Note

🍁 #13 with Adam boqvist?

NO ONE ELSE

13. “if i can't have you / i don't want nobody baby”(from this prompt list.)

you and adam kind of had a confusing relationship. it was an on-and-off relationship. you were in love with each other, that was for sure. but things got bad, so one of you walked out. wasn’t either of your strongest moment.

it wasn’t a toxic relationship, you fought like any other relationship, but you ended up going a bit too far and pushing each other off the edge. whenever you weren’t fighting, it was a loving caring relationship.

this time was no different. you fought then he walked out. you sat in your apartment, replaying the right in your head.

you said some mean things that you didn’t mean but said in the heat of the moment. he did the same thing.

adam was beating himself up over the fight. he hadn’t meant to walk out in the way that he did.

he got back in his car, and drove back to your apartment. he knocked on the door rapidly, and waited for you to answer.

you opened the door quickly due to the speed at which he was knocking. his eyes were wide and full of adrenaline and worry.

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” you asked.

“i didn’t mean anything. you have to know that.” he rushed out.

“whoa, whoa, whoa. adam, you gotta slow down,” you told him, trying to calm him down.

“you have to know that, y/n,” he begged.

“i know, i know. i didn’t mean what i said either,” you told him, reaching up and cupping his cheek.

he leaned into your touch, “i love you so much. you’re all i want. only you, and if it’s not you, then i don’t want anyone else.” he told you.

you were stunned by his admission, “really?” you asked.

“of course. you’re the only one i want,” he told you, leaning down and cupping your cheek.

“i love you, too.” you smiled up at him. he let out a sigh in relief, and pulled you into a hug, “so much,” you whispered, running your hands through his hair as he hugged you tighter.

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boqvistsbabe · 3 years

Text

Yeet - Adam Boqvist

*not my gif*

This is currently the title cause I don’t know what else to call it so. Also this is shitty and I know it is. It wasn’t planned and then I procrastinated it but I can’t start on the planned stuff till this is done because my brain is being dumb. Anyways here it is and I hope it doesn’t flop.

Warnings: none that I know of but if you see any lmk

Word count: 2,400

A/n: tried to make it as gender neutral as possible but I might’ve slipped up so if I did please let me know so I can fix it!

NOT EDITED

~~~~~~~~~

You woke up with a terrible headache and it had just gotten worse as the day went on and your coworkers weren’t helping. It seemed every single time you turned around someone needed something and you ended up getting none of your own work done. And on the way home traffic was terrible and to add on it started raining. So by the time you got home you were just ready to crawl in bed and stay there for the next week.

When you walked in the front door and saw the guys on the couch playing video games and you could tell they were invested in the game so you just mumbled a quick hello and then went upstairs to Adam’s room. You could go to your room but Adam’s room was cozier. Or at least that’s what you told yourself. The first thing you do when you walk in the room is change into some of Adam’s sweats and one of his hoodies before turning the lights off and crawling under the covers. Before you could even settle fully there was a soft knock at the door before it was opened and you heard someone shuffle across the floor before feeling the bed dip and a hand on top of your resting form.

“Hey are you okay?” At the sound of Adam’s soft voice you poked your head out of the covers to meet his eyes. You couldn’t even get the words out and you just shook your head as tears welled up in your eyes.

“Oh älskling come here.” He said, moving closer to you and opening his arms so you could crawl into them. When you were tucked into his side he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “When you’re ready tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”

When you had calmed down enough to tell him what had happened he wiped your tears away as he listened. And when you were done he kissed you forehead before getting up and walking out the door. You would question him but your headache had gotten even worse after crying, so you just laid down and pulled the covers up over your head again.

A few minutes later you heard him walk into the room.

“Hey kärlek, I’m gonna need you to sit up and take this.” He said softly though as to not make your headache worse.

You sat up and took the glass of water and the Exedrin from him before quickly swallowing the pill and following it with the water.

“Do you feel any better?”

“Adam, bud I just took it they don’t work that fast.”

“Oh yeah right sorry.” He responded sheepishly.

“No you’re good, thank you for the water and the medicine. You can go back to playing games with the boys.”

“What, no? Why would I leave,” he said with a frown, “You’re not feeling well so I’m gonna stay up here and cuddle you cause you need cuddles. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You went to argue but he just gave you a look and you shut your mouth and rolled your eyes before laying back down. Once you were settled under the covers you look up at Adam, expecting him to be getting in bed with you.

“I’m gonna change into sweats so I’m more comfortable.” He said before promptly standing up and starting to undress. Which while it wasn’t unusual that he did something like that, lately you were finding yourself looking away so you wouldn’t get caught starring.

Once Adam was done he crawled under the covers next to you and pulled you back into his bare chest. Your face heated at the motion, though you had no idea why. You had cuddled with him many times but maybe it’s because for some reason this time felt different. But at the moment you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, you had a warm Adam behind you that was kind enough to take care of you and leave his friends to keep you company, and you were going to take advantageous that. So you snuggled further under the covers and into Adam’s chest and fell asleep moments later; missing the kiss Adam pressed to your temple before tightening his arms around you.

When you woke up a little while later, Adam was gone. In his place there was instead Burt and Ralph. You rolled over to check your phone to see a message from Adam saying he was picking up dinner and would be back in a little bit. So you texted back an “okay” before continuing to go through your missed notifications.

You were getting restless and you felt better so you decided to go downstairs. When you got down there Kirby and Alex were still playing video games and Lyndsey was watching something on her phone so you decided to go sit on the couch by her. You grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and curled up under it, your head felt foggy and closing your eyes made it better.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but you had. This time you woke up to Adam crouched in front of you, his hand on your knee and his soft voice coaxing you to wake up and eat. When he saw your eyes were open, he stood and reached his hands out for you to grab. He pulled you up and gestured for you to go ahead of him to the kitchen. You got to the island where the food was sitting. Before you could start digging in like everyone else, you felt someone tap your shoulder so you turned. And found Adam standing there with a suspicious smile on his face before he pulled flowers out from behind his back. Your favorite flowers to be exact.

“I thought you could use a pick me up and I saw these and I knew they were your favorite so I got them for you.” He said handing you the flowers.

You grab them from him and set them on the counter before turning back to him and pulling him into a hug. Tucking your face into his neck you mumbled a “thank you” and he squeezed you closer to him. You both stay like that for a minute before

“Are you two gonna eat or just gonna stand there?” Came Kirby’s voice from behind you.

Adam and you both immediately let go of each other. Adam went to the food and you picked up the flowers and smelled them before going over to the cabinet to look for a vase. The only vase you could find was on the top shelf. You were seconds away from climbing on the counter to grab it, when you felt a hand on your lower back and a tattooed arm reached past you and grabbed the vase from the shelf and set it on the counter. Adam pressed a kiss to the side of your head then went back to get his food. You had to stop yourself from thinking he was trying to tell you something. You knew it was just because he knew you weren’t feeling well, nothing more. You pushed the thought about how he only did this for you to the back of your brain, not letting yourself go down that rabbit hole.

It was a little while later when you all were done with food and watching a movie in the living room. You were sitting in between Adam and Kirby. Ralph was curled up next to you and you were mindlessly petting him as you watched the movie and tried to keep sleep at bay once more. Adam got up to go do something in the kitchen and Burt followed him in hopes of getting food. You were once again failing at staying awake and your head dropped to Kirby’s shoulder and he pulled you close so you were cuddled up to him. Which you in no way minded since he was a human space heater. You causing Alex’s eye and he gave you a look that you didn’t even want to begin to decipher and shook your head, going back to watching whatever dumb movie this was.

“I leave for one minute to go get you water and exederin and you chose to cuddle him? I’m hurt” you opened your eyes to find Adam standing at the doorway of the room with a slight frown on his face.

“You left I can’t cuddle you from another room.” You responded, your sentence almost getting cut short from a yawn escaping.

“Well I’m back now so cuddle me and not him. After you take the medicine though.” Adam said as he sat back down after setting the glass on the coffee table in front of you and handing the pill to you after you sat up.

Once you had taken the medicine and drank some water, you shifted so you could curl into Adam’s side, legs tangling without a second thought. He grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and settled it over the top of you both. You heard Kirby mumble something that sounded like “whipped” before Adam moved under you and you heard a soft “ow” from Kirby a second later. You assumed Adam hit Kirby but at the moment you only cared about the sleep that was tugging your eyelids down once more.

You woke up to someone carrying you up the stairs. When you opened your eyes Adam happened to look down and find you looking up at him.

“Hey you can go back to sleep, I was just gonna take you up to my room so you could sleep more comfortably.”

“Your room hmm?” You questioned with a smile.

“Well yeah, you always say my best is more comfortable than yours. Plus I sleep better next to you.” He said the last part nonchalantly as if it didn’t make your heart flutter.

When he made it to his room he walked over to the bed and gently set you down before moving to the bathroom to get ready for bed. You looked at where he was standing at the bathroom counter, brushing his teeth. It was as if your body moved in its own account when you got up to stand behind him and wrapped your arms around him.

“Thank you for taking care of me today. You didn’t have to.” Your voice muffled from how your face was pressed into his back. He turned around before wrapping his arms around you.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I love you and I hate it when you’re not feeling well.” He responded.

You quickly pulled back and looked up at him. You both have said you loved the other before, but only when you were drunk.

“You love me?”

“Of course I love you, I thought you knew.”

“If I had know I would’ve told you I loved you too a long time ago.” You chuckled, moving forward to wrap your arms around him once more. Adam broke the silence with his giggles.

“What are you laughing at you dork?”

“Well I love you and you love me so that means I can do this.” He said before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. When you pulled away you both had big smiles on your faces. And then you yawned.

“Way to ruin the moment there babe.” You hated to admit it but your heart fluttered at the pet name.

“Well sorry I’m tired, but my boyfriend is keeping me from going to bed.” Was your response as you looked up at him with a big smile.

“Boyfriend huh?” Was the only thing he said before picking you up and walking back into the room before dropping you on the bed.

“Yeah boyfriend.” You said as he crawled into bed next to you. You leaned over to kiss him one more time before curling up against him and falling asleep.

You woke up before Adam the next morning. As you waited for him to wake up, you scrolled through your phone. It was about five minutes later when you got bored with that. So you set your phone aside and rolled back over to face Adam. He was sleeping peacefully as the the sun shined through the windows and onto his skin. You reached a hand up and started gently tracing the lines of his face. You knew he was awake when the corners of his mouth curled up.

“Mmm good morning.” He mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Morning sunshine.” You said with a smile before leaning over and pressing your lips to his. Before you could pull back his hand slid into your hair and held you there. He deepened the kiss as he moved to hover his body over yours. His free hand had just dipped under his your sweatshirt when his door opened.

“Finally! But also gross.” You heard Kirby say from the doorway as Adam let out a soft displeased groan at being interrupted. He turned his head to look at his best friend.

“Is there something you need or are you just gonna stand there and watch us?”

“Hey!” You said as you whacked his arm.

“I was joking babe. It’s not like I’d wanna share anyway.”

“Well,” Kirby interjected before you could say anything else, “ I was coming up here to wake you both up for breakfast but it seems like you two are busy so I’ll just leave ya to it.” He winked and shut the door.

Adam turned back to look at you and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled as his hand cupped your cheek.

You turned your head to press a kiss to his palm.

“I love you.”

“I love you too älskling.” He said as he pecked your lips once more.

“I KNEW IT!!! ALEX THEY SAID THEY LOVE EACH OTHER, THEY’RE FINALLY DATING!!” You heard Kirby yell from the other side of the door.

“Oh my Godd.” Adam mumbled as he dropped his weight into you and tucked his face into your neck. You smiled as you ran your hand through his hair. Yeah you could definitely get used to this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sorry you can tell how I rushed it at the end. It’s definitely not the best I could do.

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#Adam Boqvist #Adam Boqvist imagine #Adam Boqvist fic #Adam Boqvist x reader #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagine #Sam writes #the tags aren't working #but thats okay #it’s probably gonna flop anyways

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starrybethany · 3 years

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I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 6

Adam Boqvist: I’m Sure Masterlist

Word Count: 3.7K

Taglist: @flowery-mess @musiclove-12

I sit in the lobby of the gynecologist’s office, flipping mindlessly through a parenting magazine. These magazines are so stupid- they’re meant to make parenting look easy and flawless, like nothing could go wrong- spoiler note, they’re wrong.

Your partner could leave you at any moment.

Your child could lie to you.

You could end up unexpectedly pregnant multiple times.

Children aren’t as easy as people like to think that they are. I sigh, throwing the magazine onto the coffee table in front of me and peak at my watch. It’s a minute until the time that my appointment is actually scheduled for. I was hoping to get in earlier to get out earlier. I want to pick Holden up from school and take him to an arcade to relax, since everything has been so hectic lately.

The slow, casual opening of the sliding doors are a sharp contrast to the frazzled, out-of-breath man that runs through them. He pants, looking around frantically at all of the couples staring back at him before locating me.

“Oh good, you haven’t gone in yet,” he gasps, practically throwing himself into the chair next to me and turning his hat around on his head so it’s backwards.

“I thought you were a professional athlete, how are you so out of breath?” I point out, ignoring his comment.

“I’ve been missing my workouts to hang out with you and the boys,” he gives me a flirty smile.

I roll my eyes. “Sorry to be such an inconvenience.”

His smile fades as he looks at me. “Hey, that’s not what I-“”Y/N Y/L/N?” The nurse calls my name at the perfect time.

I jump out of the chair, different from the past couple of weeks where I’ve had to ease myself up due to my growing belly.

“How are you doing today?” The nurse asks as she leads the way down the hallway.

“I’m good, how about you?”

“I’m good, thank you.”

Adam trails behind us as we enter a small exam room. He hovers awkwardly in the doorway as the nurse brings me over to the scale, weighing me and taking down my height. I motion to one of the empty chairs beside the computer and he quickly sits down, an apologetic look on his face.

I can’t help but feel annoyed.

I know he’s new to this and uncomfortable and I should just appreciate him being here in the first place, but holy hell I can’t hold his hand through everything. If he can’t even sit down in a fucking chair by himself, how can I trust him to change a diaper? Or God forbid, if he had to be with the baby by himself?

I’m doubting the man next to me as I take the chair beside him, updating the nurse on my personal information.

“Any concerns?” The nurse asks, typing furiously on the keyboard.

“My back is hurting really bad. With my last pregnancy, I don’t remember it hurting this bad,” I confess, rubbing my lower back as the shooting pain makes its way through my back.

“I will write a note for the doctor. Alright, she’ll be in shortly,” she smiles before leaving.

I feel like I’m practically begging her with my eyes to stay. I don’t want to be left alone with Adam, I know I should get used to it because he sounds like he wants to be involved in the boys lives now, but there’s something preventing me from feeling fully comfortable around him.

“What was it like with Holden?”

His question snaps me out of my thoughts, and I turn my head towards him, making eye contact with him. I feel taken aback every time we make eye contact- it’s like I’m seeing his blue eyes for the first time all over again.

“What was what like with Holden?” You’ve missed out on a lot of moments, you’re going to have to be specific here, buddy.

“Your pregnancy,” he shifts awkwardly. “You said you have more backaches this, uh, time, than you did when you were, um-“”You can say the word pregnant, Adam.”

He clenches his jaw. “Fine. You said you have more backaches this pregnancy than when you were pregnant with Holden, so what else is different? There, are you happy I said it? Pregnant.”

“Whatever,” I cross my arms over my chest, excitement for this appointment ruined by Adam’s shitty attitude. He’s shown me time and time again that he’s still selfish, so tell me again, why am I allowing him to be here?

“Well?”

“Well what?” I question, looking at him in disbelief.

“What’s different?” He asks like I’m the stupid one.

“Oh my God, Adam, I still get nauseous at the smell of scrambled eggs, my feet hurt more when I was pregnant with Holden than with this baby, but this baby makes my back hurt more, and this baby loves to kick way, way, way fucking more than Holden did. There, are you happy I said it?” I repeat his question. “Do you feel like asking about my pregnancy with Holden makes up for you not being there?”

He’s quiet. We sit in this sharp tension for a good five minutes before the doctor arrives, neither of wanting to say anything. Or maybe it’s that we just don’t know what to say.

“Hi, how are we feeling today?” Dr. Rocht questions as she enters the room.

“Hungry,” I respond, dreaming about the local sub shop down the street from the women’s clinic.

Adam gives me a look of disbelief, like he can’t believe that I would even be thinking about food after the fight we just had. But hey, the baby’s hungry.

“Why don’t we have you climb on the exam table so we can get you an ultrasound of this growing baby, huh?” She requests.

I nod, standing up and climbing onto the table, lifting my shirt so that my small bump is in view.

I see Adam’s eyes widen at the sight of it, like he didn’t actually realize that I was pregnant, but I ignore him.

“So did you open the envelope to see what you’re having?” She makes small talk as she preps the equipment.

“It’s a boy,” I smile with the news.

“A boy,” Dr. Rocht repeats with a smile of her own, “Is your son excited to have a younger brother?”

“He is! I think he would’ve been excited either way, but I think he’s really looking forward to having a baby brother.”

She rubs the gel on my lower stomach and I’m silent as I stare anxiously at the ultrasound screen, waiting for the picture of my baby boy to show up.

There he is. With his little button nose, tiny lips, and the outline of his body, I cherish it every time I get to see him. He’s really there- he’s really inside of me. Using my body and the nutrients that I give him, he’s growing.

A wide, cheesy grin spreads across my face as I see him.

“Are you okay there, dad?” Dr. Rocht’s voice snaps me out of the moment I’m having with myself.

I turn to look at Adam, seeing him ball his hands into fists and rub at his eyes, sniffling along with the motion. “Yeah, it’s just, uh, the first time that. I’ve seen this.”

A pane of guilt hits my chest with the way I’ve been treating Adam. He’s been out of his kids’ lives for the past thirteen years, yes, but he’s trying now. And shouldn’t he get some credit for that?

The gynecologist asks me a question, turning my attention back to her. She gives me some advice about how to deal with the backaches and prints out three pictures of the ultrasound. One for me, one for Adam, and one for Holden. I tuck two of them into my purse and give the other to Adam, heading to the front desk to make my next appointment right away.

The blonde man walks past me as I talk to the receptionist, out through the front doors and into the parking lot. My emotions have been all over the place all day- I’m aware of that- but walking away from me after asking me to be involved in your sons lives and crying at the ultrasound just seems downright disrespectful and inconsiderate.

His actions clearly aren’t matching up with his words.

I walk into the parking lot, unlocking my car.

“Y/N.” I look over to see Adam waiting on a bench outside of the building, looking back at me.

“What, Adam?” I question, just wanting to get my sub, eat it, and take a nap. I feel so drained from the last couple of days. Although this may be benefiting my children, this whole process with Adam is entirely exhausting to me.

“I’m looking for an apartment. Here, in Philadelphia. For the next three months,” he informs me.

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, speaking slowly. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Why not?” I can tell by his tone that he’s instantly defensive.

That’s why, I want to respond. Because you aren’t willing to listen or understand anything other than your opinion.

“Adam, I just,” I sigh, shifting my purse strap. “Holden still hasn’t decided whether he wants a relationship with you, and I don’t know when he will make a decision. And- and there’s nothing you can do for me or this baby right now.”

“I just came to an ultrasound with you,” he points out.

“And you started an argument with me while in there.” I wave my hands around for emphasis, probably looking like a crazy person but needing to get my point across. “You stress me out. And it’s not good for my health or the baby’s health. I’m sorry, but I think you should return to Chicago. I’ll send you weekly updates.”

I get into my car, knowing that his eyes are following me, but his mouth doesn’t move. He’s finally starting to understand what I’m saying.

One of the good things about having a baby bump, beside it meaning that the baby is growing healthily, is that you can balance things on it. Like right now, when I have three stacks of plastic cups resting on my stomach as I carry them from the back to the front.

I set the cups on the counter, bending over to put them away.

“Okay, Y/N, Rachel, Marcella, and I have been talking, and we really like Sebastian,” Lia informs me, sliding her phone into her back pocket.

Marcella asked for the day off and Rachel had to leave early to go to a doctor’s appointment, so it’s just me and Lia this afternoon. It’s fine, it’s a slow Wednesday anyways.

“Who’s Sebastian? Is that the boy you’re kind of dating?” I question. The three girls are texting each other all of the time so they’re always caught up on each other’s lives, but I’m a little slower when it comes to that.

“No, for the second baby,” she beams, “Sebastian is the name of our favorite character from Vampires Defending the Nation. Have you seen it?”

“Nope,” I respond, knowing it’s probably some rip off of The Vampire Diaries.

“It’s so good! You have to see it,” she gushes, “So, have you thought about other names for the baby yet?”

“Not really,” I confess. “I mean, I still have another four months to think about it.”

“Hey, Y/N,” a familiar voice interrupts my conversation with Lia.

I turn around to face the customer, sighing when I see Adam standing expectantly on the other side of the counter.

“What can I get for you, Adam?” I step up to the cash register.

“I found an apartment and paid the down payment today. Just thought you should know,” he tells me.

“So, one large caramel Frappuccino,” I try to keep the annoyance out of my voice as I tap the order onto the cash register.

“And I wanted to invite you and Holden over for dinner tonight.”

“Extra whip, that’ll be an additional dollar.” My fingers jap the register harder now.

“Come on, Y/N, please. Just talk to him for me,” he pleads, pulling cash out of his wallet despite never ordering the Frappuccino.

“It is not my job to fix this for you,” I snap at him, lowering my voice once I notice other customers begin to look at us. “You got yourself into this, you can get yourself out of it. I’m sick of you fucking up and it all falling onto me, Boqvist.”

“Just tell him to respond to my texts, please.”

“It’s like you never hear a word I say,” I shake my head, exhausted from his attitude. “Your total is $5.47.”

He hands a fifty-dollar bill to me and I make sure to avoid contact with his hand, not wanting to end up in the same situation we ended up in last time we were in this café together.

“Keep the change.”

I hand him back two twenty-dollar bills, four singles, two quarters, and three pennies.

Keep the change my ass. Do you think throwing money at me will get me to change my mind?

“Coming right up,” I give him a fake smile, turning around to make his drink.

As I hand him the large cup, he leans in closer to me. I feel like I’m holding my breath, like if I release the oxygen from my lungs it’ll tangle with the oxygen from his lungs and we’ll be connected again.

“Just think about dinner, okay?” He gives me a soft smile before the front door chimes after him.

“Is that baby daddy?” Lia’s voice startles me out of my frozen state.

I nod, not trusting my voice to speak.

“Wow, he is hot,” she exclaims. When I give her a look of disapproval, she adds, “And an asshole. Total asshole.”

“Mom,” Holden hollers, stumbling down the steps. I pause Vampires Defending the Nation at the perfect time since Holden stops right in front of the TV.

“What’s up, bud?”

“Adam told me that he wants to buy me the new Halo game,” he states excitedly.

I keep myself from rolling my eyes. First he tries to pay me to talk to Holden for him at the café and now he’s buying Holden’s love by getting him a new video game.

Does this man think that money just fixes everything?

“That’s nice, honey,” I try to give him a smile, but it probably looks more like a grimace.

“And, uh,” he suddenly looks shy, making me wonder what Adam told him this time. I never know with Adam- I can never predict him. “And he told me that he, um, invited us over for dinner. And, uh, I would like to go, if, if you want to.”

I study him. He’s not fiddling with his fingers, he’s avoiding eye contact with me not because he’s lying, but because he’s unsure of my reaction, he’s not biting his lip. He’s not feeling pressured into doing this by Adam, it’s something that he really wants to do.

“Are you sure?” I question, giving him the chance to change his mind.

“I’m sure, mom.”

“Alright,” I pull out my phone slowly to text Adam that we’d be there in an hour, giving Holden the final chance to change his mind.

He doesn’t. And now I have to see Adam in less than an hour, something that I’m dreading, yet somehow deep inside, looking forward to.

Adam’s apartment is only twenty minutes away from our small townhouse, but it’s a stark difference to how we live. Whereas the brick outside of our townhouse is from the early 1900s and the paint is peeling (the landlord refuses to pay me back if I paint it myself- and I’m stubborn too, so I refuse to do it for free) while I remember Adam’s apartment building being built last year and there’s a security guard at the entrance who greets us.

I reach out to grab Holden’s hand. I’m not sure if it’s more for me or him, but I think we both need the comfort of each other.

The receptionist gets clearance from Adam to allow us up to his apartment and I hesitantly knock on the fake wood door, stepping back and waiting for it to open up.

It swings open, a beaming Adam Boqvist on the other side. “Glad you guys could make it, come on in.”

We walk into the apartment hesitantly, taking off our shoes.

“So, it has three bedrooms and two bathrooms, I figured a room for me, a room for Holden, and a room for the new baby, and uh, I made spaghetti for dinner,” the hockey player rambles, hurrying over to the stove to stir the steaming pot.

“No room for you,” Holden murmurs, teasingly, nudging my arm with his.

I roll my eyes at that, but his father clearly hears his comment, because he responds, “Oh, I was thinking she would share a room with me.”

Just as I’m about to bite back with a sassy response, he takes the pot off of the stove to dump the boiling water out. I take the time to slyly check out the apartment.

The walls are a stark white- something that he’ll regret once this baby gets into his trouble-making-toddler phase, the appliances are all brand new, and the furniture looks very modern.

Truthfully, it doesn’t look comfortable to live in. It looks like something out of a magazine.

“Dinner’s ready,” Adam announces.

We pile our plates with food, and I take a seat at the table, Holden sitting across from me and Adam sitting next to me.

“A water for you and the baby, a water for Holden,” Adam states, setting a glass down beside each of our plates before taking a seat next to me. “So, Holden, how was school today?”

I zone out as my son answers.

In the seat next to Holden, a girl a couple of years younger than him would be smiling at me. Holden would reach over to pick up the piece of garlic bread that fell in her lap, setting it on her napkin on the table. A high chair would be at the end of the table next to Adam, and in between bites of his spaghetti, he would feed the waiting, hungry baby.

That baby would be an accident. But we would laugh and joke about half of our babies being accidents, not in the way we do now, but in a joking, loving way.

A way that would show, yes, this wasn’t planned, but we’re in this together. We’re always in this together.

It’s what could have been. We could have had a nice house that we designed together, three kids that were by both of us, hell, even a dog. We could have been together. We could have done this together.

“Mom?”

I look at Holden with questioning eyes. He gives me a look of concern, nodding towards Adam. “Adam asked you a question.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, meeting Adam’s eyes. He’s always been good at telling my emotions, and that’s why he can press my buttons so easily. But now he just looks like he wants to comfort me, wrap me in his arms and never let me go.

“Sorry, what did you ask?”

“Are you alright?” He mumbles like we’re the only people in the room, ignoring my question.

“I’m fine, um, the baby’s just kicking me really hard,” I lie, hoping that even if he doesn’t believe it, he’ll accept it.

He nods slowly, a tell-tale sign that he doesn’t believe my lie, but he’ll let it slide. “I asked you who you were working with today.”

“Oh, that’s Lia,” I answer. We make small talk for the rest of dinner, but I feel concern oozing both from the man beside me and the boy across from me.

I just need to get through this dinner, then I can go home and sleep. And sleep. And sleep.

I pull the shoe onto my foot, losing my balance and beginning to tumble forward. A hand shoots out to catch me, steadying me.

“Thank you,” I murmur as I rise to my full height, planting my feet firmly on the ground.

“Gotta be careful, there,” Adam mumbles back, arm still holding onto mine. We stand there in a comfortable silence for the first time in thirteen years. I don’t want it to end, but then I remember that Holden still has homework to do, and I have to do some things before work tomorrow.

“We should get going now,” I state, moving towards the door.

“Y/N, wait,” his voice stops me. I turn around to face him. “Um, I just wanted to let you know that I’m trying. And I know I’ve been saying that for a while and I haven’t really been acting like it, but I rented this apartment, and I cooked this dinner and I’m trying to be there for Holden because I haven’t been there for him.

“And I’m trying to be there for you, too. Not just because you’re carrying my child, but because you’ve been supermom for the past thirteen years. You stepped up when I couldn’t, for the both of us, and it’s just, you just,” he takes a deep breath. “You deserve the world.” I feel something tug at my heart.

“I’m really sorry. I’m sorry for not being there then, I’m sorry for not being here now when I have been here, I’m sorry for everything. And I’m going to do everything in my power to show you how sorry I am.”

I nod, soaking in his words. He’s apologizing. He’s realizing his actions- or lack thereof. And now we just need to see if his actions will match up with this grand speech he just gave me.

“You better,” I say quietly, walking out of his new apartment.

“What took you so long?” Holden asks from his spot in front of the elevator.

“I had to talk to your dad.”

“Was it- was it a good talk?” He questions, eyes asking an unasked question.

I nod. “It was a good talk, Holden.”

#nhl imagines #Adam boqvist #Adam Boqvist imagine #Adam Boqvist x reader #hockey imagines

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starrybethany · 3 years

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I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 3

Word count: 4.2K

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 5

He looks like the perfect mix of Adam and me. But ever since he started growing his blonde hair out, he’s started to look more like Adam. Sometimes when Holden isn’t acting like a grown up and he allows me to cuddle with him and run my hand through his hair, it brings me back to the times I’ve done the same thing with Adam.

I can’t help but feel flashes of guilt in those moments. He’s shown no interest in his father, but I feel the urge to tell him about him. I don’t want him to get hurt by never having a relationship with his father, but I also don’t want to push him to have a relationship with his father just to get hurt. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Now is one of those rare times when he lets me hold him like I did when he was a baby. I convinced him to watch a movie with me, one of those cheesy Pixar films that I know that he loves. He looks up at me from between my arms, staring up at me with eyes that match my mother’s.

When he was born and opened his eyes for the first time, I was secretly relieved that his eyes didn’t match Adam’s. I just knew it would hurt to have to see a mini-Adam every day. But Holden’s eyes being the same as my mother’s hurt just slightly less than it would if they looked like Adam’s, considering I haven’t talked to my mother in over a decade after a rough childhood. It’s part of the reason that when I decided to keep Holden, I knew I had to go all in and do everything I could to provide for him and give him the best life possible.

“Mom, where did you live before you moved to Colorado?” He questions. Even though he’s lived in Philadelphia most of his life, he’s seen the photos of his toddler self cradled in my arms, the Rocky Mountains decorating the background.

“Chicago,” I answer.

“And why did you move from Chicago?”

My chest tightens at the question, but I shrug nonchalantly. I can’t just say hey kid, I was trying to escape your father. Then he would have more questions and I would put a preconceived idea of his father in his head before he even met him.

“I needed a change in scenery,” I decide on instead. It’s the truth, I did choose to go to Colorado over other states because Alex and Dylan used to show me photos of how beautiful it is.

“And what did you do in Chicago?”

“What is this, twenty questions?” I laugh.

“I’m trying to get to know you,” Holden responds.

“I’m your mother, how are you trying to get to know me?” I tickle him, causing him to giggle. “I worked for the Chicago Blackhawks as a suites advisor.”

“The hockey team?” He furrows his eyebrows. I nod. “Whoa, that’s cool. How the hell did you get that job?”

“Language,” I warn him. “I did an internship with them my senior year of college and got the job offered to me when I graduated.”

“Oh,” he yawns, snuggling closer to me. “That’s sick, mom.”

I laugh, kissing the top of his head. “Yes, it is sick.”

I pour the mixed eggs into the pan, waiting for them to sizzle. A wave of nausea suddenly hits me, and I grab onto the edge of the counter, trying to balance myself and swallow the bile that threatens to come up my throat.

I take deep breaths through my nose but that only makes it worse as I smell the scrambled eggs over and over again. I move the pan off of the stove and quickly turn it off, rushing out through the front door to take in gulps of fresh air.

Unfortunately, as soon as I open my mouth, everything that I ate last night comes up.

“Are you okay, honey?” A tender voice calls out.

I look over to see my neighbors, a kind elderly couple, staring at me with concern from their front stoop.

“I’m fine,” I choke out, trying to hide my red cheeks behind my hair. “Probably just the stomach bug that’s been going around.”

They nod, obviously not believing the answer but deciding not to push it. I ignore the little voice in my head telling me that the last time I was this sensitive to the smell of scrambled eggs, an embryo was growing in me.

I enter the house again, seeing Holden planted on the couch in front of the TV. He watches with a questioning expression as I dump the eggs into the trashcan, practically throwing the dirty pan into the sink.

I turn to my son. “New plan, we’re having cereal for breakfast.”

“Holden!” I throw his bedroom door open in excitement, totally forgetting our golden rule of privacy.

“Mom,” he exclaims in shock, turning his phone off and flipping it over so the screen is face down on his desk. “Have you ever heard of knocking?”

“Sorry,” I apologize, knowing better. He’s getting to the age of porn and masturbation and that is the last thing that I want to walk in on- having the birds and the bees talk with him was hard enough.

When I found out that I was having a boy and not a girl, that was one thing that I was not looking forward to. And it was just as bad as I thought it was going to be…

“What are you doing home this early?” He glances at the clock.

“Oh, yeah, that’s what I wanted to tell you!” I grin wildly, remembering the reason that I rushed into his bedroom in the first place. “I slept in this morning, like I totally missed my alarm and even when I woke up after ten hours of sleep, I was still exhausted. Anyways, I called work and they told me that it was slow, so I decided to take the whole day off and then I went back to sleep for four hours. When I woke up I went to Target to get some groceries but they have that Starbucks inside and I’ve been meaning to try two different drinks lately and I just decided to try them both and-“”Now you’re completely energized,” he gives me a look of amusement. “Yeah, I can tell.”

“Let’s go out for dinner tonight,” I initiate, “We can go to that cute new restaurant downtown that I meant to try with Winston.”

“Sure, mom,” he rolls his eyes but slowly rises from his bed.

“Oh, and just remember, real sex is never like porn,” I tell him before closing his door behind me.

I can still hear his whine of, “Mom!”

“I think I’m going to try the chicken alfredo,” I announce, closing the menu with my order picked out.

“You always get that,” Holden points out.

“And? It’s always good. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it,” I shrug, taking a sip from my cup of Pepsi.

I take a moment to look at my new surroundings. This is the type of restaurant that Winston would love. He loves restaurants that have the brick interior- he always used to say that restaurants that looked like this had the best food.

Maybe I made a mistake breaking up with him. I mean, all he was asking was for me to be honest with him about my feelings. He was trying to do was build a future with me and Holden. Plus, Holden liked him. He’s getting to that age where he might not like all of my boyfriends, shouldn’t I hold onto one that he does like?

“So,” Holden coughs, causing my eyes to snap back to him. He looks uncomfortable, like he doesn’t want to say what he’s about to say or ask what he’s about to ask. “I have to do a project for school on my parents’ lineage. I know all of your stuff, but what about my dad’s?”

I pause, my eyes laser focused on the boy sitting in front of me. He needs to know. But is he asking because he wants to know or because of this school project? Will this school project lead to more questions about his father? I obviously have to tell him the truth, but I wish I would have prepared myself more for this. I could’ve given myself a pep talk in the mirror before having to tell Holden all about his father.

It’s my turn to cough awkwardly. “He’s one hundred percent Swedish.”

“Swedish,” he repeats, nodding. “Okay.”

I freeze. Is that really all he wanted to know? “Do you want a name or something?”

“No,” he shakes his head, drinking from his cup now. “I’m good.”

I nod silently, not knowing what else to say. If he doesn’t want to learn more about his dad, I’m not going to force him. I just hope this project doesn’t bring out some feelings of resentment towards his father or me.

I shift on my feet, trying to sooth the searing pain without actually taking my shoes off to give myself a foot massage. But boy, what I would do for a good foot massage right now.

Lia and Rachel giggle to each other and I smile at them fondly, remembering when I was their age and working to be able to my college tuition.

“Lia, I ordered you two more shirts,” I inform the young girl, leaning against the counter to ease the pressure on my feet.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she flashes me a smile. “Hey, what time does the new girl start work today?”

I give her a confused expression. “What new girl?”

“Didn’t Tiffany say anything to you?” Now her expression morphs into one of confusion. “She popped in a couple of days ago and said that she hired another employee and that she was going to start Tuesday, today.”

I fight back the scowl that begs to come out and bite back the nasty words I want to say about the owner. She’s been a shitty owner for as long as I’ve worked here, and this is a good example. A new employee starts today and she’s nowhere in sight.

“She must’ve forgotten to mention it to me,” I settle on saying. I make small talk with the two, catching up on their studies and what they’re doing in their free time. I like to hear about their time in college, it reminds me of all of the all-nighters I used to pull and the times I would leave fraternity houses completely obliterated. Of course, I’m not gonna tell these girls that.

A small girl, younger than Lia and Rachel, appears in front of the counter with a shy look on her face. I recognize the expression as one that the two girls had on their first day here, so I give her a big smile and ask, “Hi! Are you the new employee?”

“Yeah, my name is Marcella,” she introduces herself. I introduce myself to her and usher her behind the counter, giving her an apron with a new nametag on it and show her a couple of things on the machines.

“But I don’t want to overwhelm you on your first day, so you can just observe us today and try it tomorrow, okay?” I request. She nods, a relieved smile on her face. “I’m going to go to the back and grab you some extra shirts that we have until we can order some for you.”

As I shuffle through the boxes in the back, trying to find some that would fit the small girl, I can hear the three talking in the front of the café.

“Is she the owner?” Marcella asks in a hushed tone.

“No, she’s the supervisor, but she might as well be the owner because she does everything the owner should be doing,” Rachel responds. I smile at her answer, glad that someone is seeing the hard work that I put in around here.

“Is she, like, chill?” Marcella questions.

“Oh, she’s very chill. Like you can be on your phone, she doesn’t care, she’s on her phone all of the time too,” Lia says.

“But she’s on her phone because she has a kid,” Rachel points out, “You’re on your phone because you’re Snapchatting the boy that you’ve been talking to for the past four months.”

The three girls giggle with each other as I emerge from the back, two shirts in my hand. My eyes immediately take in Marcella, who’s phone is grasped in her hand now.

That’s not what catches my attention. What catches my attention is her phone case. Tommy Hawk stares back at me with a “miss me?” look on his stupid bird face.

“You a Blackhawks fan?” I try to keep my tone casual as I set the shirts down on the counter next to her, turning to occupy my hands with a spray bottle and a rag.

“Yeah, are you?” She inquires.

I swallow the lump in my throat that appears with the question. Act cool, act casual. She doesn’t know anything about your past, none of the girls do. “No, not really a hockey fan. Just used to live in Chicago and would see the logo everywhere.”

It’s not a lie.

“It is everywhere,” she giggles.

“Well, now you’re going to have to be a Flyers fan,” I give her a smile, hoping she doesn’t see through it to my anxiety.

And when Lia begins to talk about how the guy she’s been talking to is a big Flyers fan, I feel relief flood through my body that I’ve made it through this conversation and into the clear.

I’ve been avoiding this for two weeks now. I can’t even remember when Adam and I had sex, but I remember the symptoms from eleven years ago. Swollen feet. Sensitive breasts. Aversions to certain foods- like scrambled eggs. God, I feel like throwing up just at the thought.

But I can’t avoid it forever. I need something to confirm or deny my beliefs. And now, instead of sitting on the shitty toilet in my loft in Chicago, I’m sitting on the toilet that actually works in my condo in Philadelphia.

Time has gone by, but I somehow find myself in this situation yet again. Instead of two tests balancing on the edge of the sink basin, there’s three tests sitting on paper towel on the counter.

I feel less nervous this time than I was when I found out that I was pregnant with Holden. I mean, now I know that I’m a good mom, I’m a good mom to Holden. Sure, I’m not in the best place financially still, but I could find a way to make it work- I did the first time around.

But before I make all of these decisions, I need to find out if I’m even pregnant first.

My phone alarm goes off and I quickly turn it off, taking a deep breath. The nerves start to set in, and I bite my lip in fear.

No matter what happens, I’ll figure it out.

I rise with shaky legs, turning to stand in front of the counter, my eyes meeting the mirror. Slowly, they move down to the three electronic tests.

Positive. Positive. Positive.

Fuck. I run a hand through my hair, lifting my gaze to stare at myself in the mirror. I’m going to be a mom again. I haven’t been a mom to a newborn in twelve years, will I even remember what it’s like to change poppy diapers and make a bottle? I’m older now- not that old- but still, will I want to wake up several times throughout the night to feed an infant?

I mean, at least in Colorado I had a steady boyfriend who willingly shared those shifts with me. Now it’d be me by myself. I’m sure I could get Holden to pitch in every once in a while- shit, Holden.

How the hell am I supposed to tell my twelve-year-old son that I’m knocked up? It’s embarrassing enough to be in middle school, but to have your mom be pregnant will make it all the more humiliating. And the age gap is going to be thirteen years, they’ll have nothing in common with each other. What the hell am I supposed to tell him when he asks me who the father is?

Guess what, kiddo? You two have the same biological father! “Mom,” the kid in question calls out from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Uh, just a minute, buddy,” I stutter, quickly shoving the tests into one of the cabinet drawers, burying it under some pads. He doesn’t go in my master bathroom in the first place, but if he did, I wouldn’t want him to find out about the pregnancy before I could tell him myself.

I throw the paper towel into the trash can and open the door breathlessly, the blonde on the other side of the door giving me a questioning look.

“Uh, you okay, mom?”

“I’m fine,” I answer, exiting the bathroom and plopping down on my bed, patting the spot next to me for him to take a seat. He does. “What’s up?”

“I want to ask you something,” he begins, picking at his overgrown fingernails. It’s his nervous habit, I’ve picked up on it over the past twelve years but haven’t said anything about it. I don’t want him to know that I realize it because then he can hide his emotions from me.

“Okay,” I nod encouraging.

“There’s this programming camp this summer, in Chicago, that I’d like to go to,” he stutters through.

My heart races at the thought of my baby boy in Chicago by himself. He’s grown up a lot in the past couples of months and I know that he’ll grow in the time that he has before he goes to the camp, but I can’t help but feel anxious at the thought of my son with no one to watch him in a big city like Chicago.

“It’s in June, and it’s only for two weeks,” he continues quickly.

“Honey... that’s in a month and a half,” I point out, “It’s kind of last minute to be bringing this up to me, don’t you think?”

“I know, mom, but I didn’t think I wanted to do it and I started thinking about it more and then I realized I really want to do it,” he pleads.

“I didn’t realize you were really into computer programming,” I state softly. If I don’t know about something that my son is so clearly passionate about, am I really that good of a mother?

“Yeah, well, it’s a, um, recent development.”

I nod. “Okay. We’ll sign you up for this camp tonight and then we’ll start getting you ready.”

“Thanks, mom!” He launches himself into my arms and I giggle with surprise, not ready for the sudden action. Nonetheless, I hug him back, cherishing the feeling of my older child in my arms.

“I love you, Holden.”

“I love you, too, mom.”

Later that night I lay in bed, darkness filling my room. As soon as Holden left my room earlier to play video games, I pulled out my phone, scheduling an appointment with my doctor to confirm the pregnancy and see how far along I am.

I reach over for my phone, opening Instagram. Adam’s follow request still sits there, untouched. It’s been weeks now, so I doubt that he remembers that he even sent it. Hell, I don’t even post that often, so if I confirmed it, he would barely be able to tell that he’s following me.

But do I confirm it for my son and our future, second child together? Do I message him and tell him that I’m 99% sure that he’s going to be a dad again?

I mean, his track record so far tells me that I shouldn’t do that. He doubted paternity when I told him that I was pregnant with Holden and basically told me to get rid of the baby. He didn’t bother to contact me for thirteen years, and when we did come into contact again, accidentally, he didn’t mention Holden at all or ask about him.

That tells me he’s still not ready to become a parent. It’s been over a decade and he hasn’t come to terms that he’s a dad and that he needs to step up and be there for his child- or children, now.

And I may be a bitch, but I don’t want to give him a chance to hurt this second baby. Even though Holden’s never shown any interest in getting to know Adam, what if this second child does?

What if this baby reaches out to Adam just to get told “sorry, I don’t want you and I never did.” I can’t imagine how much my heart would break for my child if that were to happen. So, with pain radiating in my heart, I decline Adam’s follow request. I’ve gone through one pregnancy without him, I can go through another.

Day by day, it’s getting harder to hide my pregnancy from Holden. I wanted to wait as long as I could, or at least until twelve weeks when I know it’s less likely to lose the baby, to tell him that I’m pregnant. I was eight weeks along when I found out but now, I’m fourteen weeks, beginning to show.

I’ve noticed that with this pregnancy I started showing a lot sooner than I did with Holden. My doctor told me that’s normal, that my uterus is already stretched out, so the baby already has space to grow.

I’ve been wearing baggy sweatshirts and T-shirts for weeks now, but I don’t think Holden’s caught on yet.

I stare at myself in the mirror, a prominent bump sticking out from my stomach. I can tell it’s only going to be days until I have to begin telling people about the baby, but I don’t have a few days with Holden.

I drop him off at the airport early tomorrow morning for his flight to Chicago. All he’s ben raving about for the past month and a half has been this computer programming camp- honestly, most of it goes over my head, but I smile whenever he talks about it to me because he gets so enthusiastic.

After seeing him lock himself in his room to play video games all day for months, it’s nice to see him be so passionate about something.

And I hate to tell him such big news right before he leaves for his camp, but if I don’t tell him now, he’ll definitely find out with his own eyes when he gets back.

I drop my shirt, walking hesitantly into the hallway and knocking on his bedroom door.

“Come in,” he calls out.

I open the door to find him hurriedly shoving shirts and shorts into his suitcase that’s laying on his bed.

“Hey, fold those properly so that you have more room in your suitcase,” I advise, taking some shirts from the luggage and folding it into a neat pattern. “And pack some pants, Chicago can still be chilly in June.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, rushing over to his dresser and pulling his pants drawer open.

“I want to talk to you about something,” I tell him, eyes focused on his back.

He freezes in his spot, a pair of black jeans in one hand and a pair of blue jeans in the other. “Okay?”

“Come sit with me.”

He slowly moves over towards me, sitting on the other side of his suitcase. “Okay.”

I take a deep breath, looking him in the eye. “I’m pregnant.”

“O-Okay.”

“Can you say something other than okay?” I question, throwing my hands up in frustration. “Well, is it, is it Winston’s?”

I shake my head, biting my lip.

“How far along are you?”

I squint in confusion, unsure of the sudden change from the questioning of paternity to how far along I am. “Fourteen weeks.”

“Do you know the sex yet?”

“No, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find that out at all,” I admit.

“I think we should find that out when I get back from the camp, together,” he responds nonchalantly, folding a T-shirt laying on the bed.

I can’t help but feel surprised. I thought he would be shocked, upset, angry, I don’t know, but have a stronger reaction than the one that he’s giving me. I guess this camp really is putting him in a good mood, though. It makes me worried of what his reaction is going to be when he returns to Philadelphia after Chicago.

Will he still have that casual approach, or will it finally hit him that it won’t just be the two of us?

“So, you’re okay with it?” I confirm.

“Yeah. It’s about time we get some change around here.”

I chuckle at that, reaching for another shirt to fold. “Yeah, well, we’re about to get a whole lot of change.”

Please fill out this form on what you want the sex of baby #2 to be!!

#adam boqvist #adam boqvist imagine #adam boqvist x reader #Chicago Blackhawks imagine #NHL imagines

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starrybethany · 3 years

Text

Adam Boqvist: I’m Sure Masterlist

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 1

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 2

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 3

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 4

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 5

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 6

Taglist (message me if you would like to be added)

@flowery-mess @musiclove-12

#nhl imagines #Blackhawks imagine #adam boqvist imagine #Adam Boqvist x reader #Chicago Blackhawks imagine

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starrybethany · 4 years

Text

I’m Sure - Adam Boqvist Imagine Part 2

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Word count: 3.5K

I shut the front door quietly behind me. I step out of my heels, sighing in relief as my feet can finally breathe. My eyes land on the twelve-year-old on the couch and I can’t help but grin despite his cold behavior towards me lately.

I know he’s an adolescent so he’s going to go through mood swings and say hurtful things-but that doesn’t make it hurt less. It also doesn’t make me love him less. I walk up behind him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders slowly and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Mom,” he rips the headphones off of his ears, setting the controller and the headphones down on the coffee table. “You’re home.”

“Are you playing Call of Duty with the boys?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, eyes still avoiding my own. I know he’s ashamed of how he treated me this morning before leaving for school, but he won’t admit it. I raised him to admit it when he’s made a mistake, but he’s a boy, and they naturally refuse to do so. He’s still young, too, so he feels like he’s somehow always right.

“What do you want for dinner?” I make my way towards the small kitchen, opening the fridge to look inside.

“Didn’t you get food with Winston?” Holden questions, giving me a confused look.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “But I’m assuming you didn’t eat.”

“No.”

I pull out the supplies to make a grilled cheese, looking up at him expectantly. “Grilled cheese, then?”

“Yeah.”

The fading sun catches the blonde locks in his hair as he looks over at me from time to time, trying to focus on his game but a thought obviously occupying him.

“Mom, is um, is Winston going to be moving in with us?” He questions.

“What?” I laugh. “No, honey, we’ve only been dating a few months. Why would you think that?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. You guys hang out a lot.”

“Well, I hope you know that I would have a conversation with you before doing anything that serious,” I reassure him, bringing over a Coke and the plate with chips and a grilled cheese.

“Thanks, mom,” he cracks a smile at me. A sign that it’s all better now.

“So, tell me about school today. How was art? Did you finally compliment Cierra’s painting?” I tease.

“Mom,” his voice cracks with the warning.

“I’m just teasing,” I giggle. “But seriously, Holden, girls love compliments.”

“I know,” he grumbles, returning to his game.

“How is Holden?” My sister asks.

I balance the phone between my shoulder and my ear, glancing up the stairs to make sure his door is closed so that he doesn’t hear the conversation. I lower my voice just in case. “I’m still worried about him. He doesn’t have a lot of friends, he doesn’t hang out with the friends that he does have, he doesn’t want to join any sports or extracurricular activities- his grades aren’t the best. I’ve asked him so many times if he wants to go to therapy and he says no every time.”

“Well, maybe it’s time for you and Winston to get serious. That boy needs a father figure.”

I feel the annoyance rise in my blood and I roll my eyes, grateful that she can’t see me and scold me about the action. “I don’t want to push Holden to accept Winston. Holden will make his own decision of how to perceive him. Look, I have to go, I’m working late tomorrow.”

“Alright. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I quickly hang up, turning off the downstairs lights and making my way upstairs. I peak under my son’s door, seeing a soft light emerging, before doing my nighttime routine and laying down in bed. I scroll through my social media for a while- a habit I’ve been trying to break since Holden was born- seeing that all of my friends who are Flyer fans are getting excited for the game against the Blackhawks tomorrow.

Colorado was not a hockey place. They were all about their Denver Broncos and lived and breathed football. Holden and I moved to Philadelphia with my ex-boyfriend when he was a toddler, and we broke up when he started kindergarten, but we’ve stayed in Philadelphia ever since.

Philadelphia, however, is a hockey place. I understand why- Gritty is the embodiment of the city- but it was odd to be immersed back into the hockey life. Everyone here worships Claude Giroux and flashes of orange are worn everywhere we go.

I asked Holden when he was younger if he wanted to play hockey, since a lot of his friends do, but he quickly rejected the idea- something I was guiltily relieved about. He doesn’t know that his dad is a hockey player, in fact, he’s surprisingly never asked about his dad.

I thought he would want to learn more as he grew older and saw all of the kids at school with both of their parents, but he’s never said a thing to me.

I don’t know if he’s said something to someone else, though.

I set my phone down on the nightstand, exhausted from the long workday and the worry that constantly fills my body about my son. I know I need to do something to encourage him to increase his grades, make some friends, join some clubs- hell, even if it’s to spend more time with me, I wouldn’t mind that.

But right now, I just feel like a shitty mother.

I sigh, setting down the papers on my desk and rubbing my eyes. I hate ordering inventory, but someone needs to do it and since the owner of this coffee shop is never here, it lays on my shoulders.

I stand up, making my way to the front of the shop. “Do you guys know if Lia needs any more shirts?”

“I think she does,” Rachel’s voice falls on deaf ears as I notice the person waiting to order. The blood rushes to my head and my limbs run cold. All I can focus on is him. He’s standing in the coffee shop that I manage, a familiar, yet older Alex DeBrincat by his side, just like old times.

My eyes meet Alex’s first. He smiles at me, then I watch as it slowly transfers into a look of confusion.

“Do I- do I know you?” He asks carefully.

“Y/N,” another voice breathes out. I turn my head, eyes meeting Adam’s. His face is frozen in disbelief, like he can’t believe it’s actually me.

But it’s me. And I’m standing in front of my child’s father, seeing him for the first time in about thirteen years. I hadn’t spoken to him since the day I left, Holden still a little bean in my stomach.

Staying true to my word, I did it on my own- with the help from some ex-boyfriends. But still, I was the one hugging him when he got vaccines at six months old, I was the one rubbing his back when he had the stomach flu at six years old, I’m the one kissing him on the cheek after parent-teacher conferences.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N, it’s been a while!” Alex chuckles, snapping my attention back to him. “I thought you were in Colorado, what are you doing in Philly?”

I force a smile. “Needed a change in scenery.”

It’s not a complete lie.

“How have you been? Is there a husband, any kids?”

Rachel, God bless Rachel, calls out Alex’s name and hands him his coffee before I can respond.

“How are you doing?” I inquire, keeping my eyes on the shorter man.

“Oh, I’m good, Lyndsey and I just had our second, our first boy,” he smiles proudly. He always used to talk about how much he wanted a family with her.

“Congratulations,” I smile.

“Thanks. Boqy here,” he slaps Adam’s chest, bringing him into the conversation. I reluctantly drag my eyes over to him, seeing that he’s already watching me. “Hasn’t changed a bit since you left.”

I nod, biting back the snarky remark that wants to escape. He’s what, thirty now? And he hasn’t changed a bit?

“Well, I have to get back to work,” I respond, wanting nothing more than to escape this conversation. I wouldn’t mind chatting with Alex for a whil- I’m sure he’d love Holden, but I don’t want Adam to know anything about my son.

I can’t help but feel guilty at that.

“Hey, let’s exchange numbers and hang out soon. We’re playing the Flyers and Penguins for the next couple of days, so we’ll be around for a while,” Alex offers.

I nod, pulling out my phone to exchange numbers with him. Somehow Adam thinks it’s his right to add his number into my phone, too.

“Well, it was great seeing you, Y/N,” Alex smiles before leaving, holding the door open for his companion. Adam spares me one last glance before leaving.

I cry in my office.

I can feel his eyes sliding between me and his plate. He pushes the corn with his fork, causing a scrapping noise to echo throughout the small room. He’s used to dinner being filled with questions about his day- what did he learn in science? Did he play dodgeball in gym class? But I’m not in the mood tonight.

The last thing that I wanted to do was make dinner and sit down and eat it instead of ordering pizza and crawling into bed, but I know I need to put on a brave face for Holden. He doesn’t need to know that anything’s wrong.

He coughs awkwardly. “I don’t like corn.”

I can’t hold back the rolling of my eyes. He looks shocked at that, like he’s not expecting it, but I’m not in the mood for his snarky attitude tonight.

“Then don’t eat it.”

He studies me before I can’t handle it anymore, shoving my chair back. I quickly throw the rest of my food away and throw my dishes into the sink before practically sprinting upstairs, locking my bedroom door behind me like a teenage girl.

I’m wiping the tears in my eyes furiously, my chest heaving with every breathe. I’m hoping that if I stop the tears from coming now, it’ll seem like they’ve never come at all.

And if they never fall, I’ve never cried over Adam Boqvist.

My phone buzzes angrily in my back pocket and I pull it out, practically groaning when I read Winston’s name. It shouldn’t be like that when I see that it’s my boyfriend calling, I know that, but really? Right now?

“Hello?”

“Hey, how are you?” Winston coos through the phone.

I furrow my eyebrows at the tone. “Uh, alright.”

“It’s just- Holden texted me and told me that you’re feeling kind of, um, off, tonight,” he struggles to explain.

I hold back my scoff. Sure, now Holden likes Winston.

“It’s nothing.”

“Come on, Y/N, how are we supposed to have a healthy relationship if you can’t talk to me?” He persists.

“I just don’t want to talk about it, Winston.”

“Fine. Be that way. But just so you know, if you can’t bother talking to me about this, then don’t bother talking to me ever again.”

I raise my eyebrows at that. “You’re going to break up with me because I don’t want to tell you what’s wrong?”

“It’s the principle of it, Y/N! If you aren’t willing to share your emotions with me four months into this relationship, where are we going?” He rants.

I’m dumbfounded. I know I should be willing to tell him what’s wrong- he’s supposed to be my partner, my confidant, the one I tell everything to.

But to be honest, I don’t really care. I’ve never felt an immense attraction to him. Really, when he asked me out the only reason I said yes was because I like his appearance. But we’ve never clicked, we’ve never had that fire, that passion- like, like what Adam and I had.

“Exactly,” he scoffs, reminding me that I’m still on the phone with my boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend.

He hangs up the phone and I sigh, gently resting the device back on my bedside table. I get ready for bed before climbing back under my cozy covers, scrolling through social media one last time before I decide to sleep.

My notification tab lights up, so I click on it, seeing that I have a new follow request.

adamboqvistt Confirm Delete

I stare at that in disbelief. After more than a decade of knowing my Instagram handle, and the fact that I’m the mother of his child, now he decides he wants to follow me?

Now he wants to get and stay in contact, just because he happened to see me at my job?

He took one look at me and decided he should be involved now. I told him when I told him that I was pregnant, it’s all in or all out. And he decided all out, so now he has to live with his decision.

I close the app in fury, setting my phone down and turning over in bed, tugging the blanket harder than I intend to. Hopefully tomorrow is better than today. Hopefully Adam forgets about me and our child, just like he’s done for the past thirteen years.

Holden is slipping down the stairs just as I set his plate of scrambled eggs down on the table, giving me a hesitant look, like he’s unsure of what kind of mood I’m in and why I took the time to make him breakfast instead of hurrying out the door like I usually am with a reluctant kiss and hug.

“I start later today, I’m on the closing shift tonight,” I half-explain, placing the bowl of cut-up strawberries in the middle of the table.

He nods, taking a seat across from me at the table. I clear my throat as we begin to eat and he looks up at me, blue eyes wide like he got caught doing something wrong.

“Winston and I broke up last night,” I state emotionlessly.

“Oh, uh, sorry.”

I shrug my shoulders.

“Can I ask why?”

“I didn’t want to talk about my bad day and apparently that makes me emotionally unavailable,” I respond.

He pauses. “Well, do you want to talk about your bad day with me?”

This time it’s my turn to pause. I could do three things right now. I could tell him that his father’s going to be in town for the next couple of days, giving him the opportunity to meet him if he really wanted to. Although he’s never expressed wanting to meet Adam, I’m sure there’s some kind of yearning in him to meet the man who gave him half of his genes.

Or I could lie. I hate lying to the kid- it’s not a value I want to raise him with. Plus, if he finds out that I lied, he would be pissed.

Finally, I could shut him out. I don’t want to do that, though. If I shut him out, when will he want to come talking to me? If I’m not willing to talk to him, it’s not fair to expect him to talk to me about things that bother him.

“I saw… an old friend, yesterday,” I say slowly, deciding to leave it at that. It’s vague but specific enough.

“My father?”

I practically choke at the words.

“It’s okay, mom,” he shrugs awkwardly. “I get it. That must’ve been hard for you.”

The deep blush on his cheeks shows me that he doesn’t want to continue this conversation much longer. I don’t know if it’s because of who it’s about, or because we’re talking about our feelings, but I don’t want to pressure him.

“Yeah. So, I’ll be home around eight o’clock tonight, I’ll pick up some McDonalds on the way home. Text me your order,” I inform him.

He nods, and that’s that.

I don’t know why a café is open until eight o’clock at night. Usually no one comes in past six o’clock, so the owner is paying someone to sit there for two hours on their phone. Around seven fifty-five, when I’m in the middle of turning off the lights to lock up and go home to see my son, the doorbell rings.

I curse in my head- what asshole comes in five minutes before closing time?

“Hello,” I plaster a fake smile onto my face, turning around to greet the customer. My feet stop moving.

His short curls peak out of the gray beanie, black jacket hanging loosely off of his body. His hands are shoved into his coat pockets and he stands at the door unsurely, deciding to take a confident step forward.

I compose myself, taking a step forward. “What can I get for you today?”

“Y/N-“”My recommendation is our house’s hot chocolate, it’s my favorite,” I give him a sugar sweet smile, relishing in the way that he winces.

“Look, I know that-“”Either order something or get out, Adam,” I break out of my customer service persona.

“If I order something will you talk to me?” He snaps.

I raise my eyebrows at him. “Are you really in the position to be making demands here?”

He sighs. “Get me that- what was it, a hot chocolate?”

“What size?” I snarl.

“Small.”

I grab the cup, reluctantly beginning the process of making it as he begins to speak.

“I requested to follow you on Instagram.”

I don’t respond.

“Look, I know that I messed up, okay?”

“That’s one way of putting it,” I mumble.

“I realize that,” he continues like I never interrupted him. “And I regret it every day, letting you and him- or her, I don’t even know what you ended up having, go, just so easily. I spent thirteen years missing all of the birthdays and Christmases and hockey games and focusing on getting drunk and my own hockey world. But don’t you feel like it’s fate, meeting again after all of these years?”

“Your total is $4.32,” I retort, setting the cup down on the counter.

“Come on, just let me meet him. Or her, you haven’t told me what you ended up having yet,” he pleads, chuckling dryly at the end.

“That’s because you don’t deserve to know. $4.32 please, and cash transactions are closed at this time,” I stare pointedly at him.

He swipes his card silently.

“Thank you, come again,” I state as I hand him his receipt. His fingers brush my own. The softness of them sooth the rage in my body, something I curse at internally.

I, so badly, want to be mad at Adam. I want to scream at him for missing all of our son’s childhood and my whole pregnancy.

But the worst part is that I can’t really blame him. He was a young guy, barely surviving in a league that sucks the players dry of everything they can give.

He knew he couldn’t give everything to raise the child- he knew better than to promise that he could do that.

I know he probably beats himself up for letting this go on so long- as he should- but I know that he’s probably ashamed of what he’s done and how much he’s missed.

There was never a right time for him to reenter Holden’s life. When Holden was a toddler, Adam still barely knew himself, as a kid Adam was teaching the younger players, and well, now- now Holden wants nothing to do with him.

Adam’s fingers glide gently up my arm, eyes double-checking to make sure the action is alright. It is.

It slides down to my waist and the other hand lifts up slowly, softly brushing my jaw. His face moves closer and closer to mine before our lips meet.

It’s like they’ve never left each other. They start out slowly, then move faster, more passionately. I tighten my eyes, cherishing this moment. Who knows when it will come next? The hand on my jaw moves down to my other hip and he tugs me across the counter, moving so that he’s standing in between my open legs.

“This is so unhygienic,” I breathe out as he begins to kiss down my neck. He chuckles, the hot air making me grow more and more needy for him.

“Are there cameras in here?” He questions, looking around- looking out for me to keep my job.

“No,” I respond, pulling his lips back to mine. “But we have to go into the office. I don’t want anyone walking past to see.”

He nods, grabbing onto the back of my thighs to pick me up. The office door shuts behind us.

When I see the, now cold, hot chocolate still sitting on the counter the next morning, I can’t help but wince, regretting everything that happened the night prior.

I just can’t resist when it comes to Adam Boqvist.

#NHL imagines #Adam boqvist #adam boqvist imagine #Adam boqvist x reader #hockey imagines #bimsure

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