#and to add to it Charlie gets that 'ambush me into accepting your apology' line that once again frames his own growth as a manipulation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captain-mcdavid · 5 years

Text

word count: 4.3k

smut: yes | no

warnings: sorry! you guys are gonna hate me for this! angst, swearing, fighting, smut, rough (consensual, but very one sided) sex, head injuries (note: the other parts can be found on my masterlist)

“He’ll text back,” Lindsay says, and you shrug, not looking over at her. She’s apologized at least sixty times for sending that text but you’re still not quite ready to play nice.

“I’m really sorry you know,” She says, and you nod, shooting her a quick half smile from your spot on the couch.

“I know Linds, it’s fine. Honestly.”

It’s not though. You can’t help but bring this all back to her, and it’s making it really hard to sound sincere when you say you accept her apology. Why did she have to send that text at that time? Why did she have to push you to do this in the first place?

She sighs and smiles, blowing you a kiss before heading out the door again. You know she feels bad, her absence over that last week has proven that. She avoids problems, and that’s exactly what she’s been using Boone for.

You open your phone again, staring at the onesided conversation. It’s been two weeks and you’ve sent 15 messages, and he hasn’t responded to a single one.

You’ve considered ambushing him multiple times, showing up to his place or waiting outside his building, but thank goodness you’ve convinced yourself against it.

Watching all his games probably doesn’t help the situation either. When he wins you want to celebrate with him, and when he loses you want to be there to comfort him, but he won’t give you the opportunity, and frankly you don’t deserve it.

It’s the second period of game six, and they’re down one in the series. If they don’t win tonight, they’re out, and at the moment it’s not looking so good.

You’re watching rather emotionlessly until it happens, but when it does you’re on the edge of your seat. Josh and Charlie MacAvoy go into the boards, and Charlie throws an obviously high hit on Josh.

He goes down hard and you jerk up, breath catching in your throat when he stays down. You can hear your pulse in your ears as you watch him get lead down the tunnel, and you’re wishing now more than ever that you weren’t in this place with him.

You’re a nervous wreck for the rest of the game, Josh comes back for the third period, but you expected him to. Even if he is hurt, no one could keep him from this game. He’d have to be nearly dead to not go back out.

When the third period finishes your heart sinks to your feet. Josh was on cloud nine after Tampa and to have the playoffs end like this must be so frustrating for him, not to mention everything going on in his life that isn’t hockey related.

Watching the post game interviews is literally heartbreaking, and this time you’re unable to convince yourself out of an ambush. He might need time, but according to you he’s had enough of it, and he needs comfort more.

When you arrive his car is in the lot so you know he’s home, but you don’t think about the obvious until you get to the door.

You can’t get in without him ringing you in, and if he decides he doesn’t want to see you, he probably won’t do that.

You debate with yourself for at least ten minutes, arguing in your head about whether or not he would actually leave you out here at night in the cold. After what you did though you wouldn’t put it past him, so instead of pushing the buttons to phone his place, you phone Boone’s instead.

You’re kind of counting on your acting skills, and Josh not telling any of the guys what happened, and it’s shaky ground but you don’t know what else to do.

“Hello?” Boone sounds tired even through the distant telephone box and you respond in a frail voice.

“Hey, Boone. It’s Y/N.”

“Oh hey,” He sounds confused, rightfully so.

“I’m just here to check up on Josh, but he’s not answering, I think he fell asleep. Do you think you could let me in?”

“Oh yeah for sure!” He says, and you sigh in relief. “My button is actually broken though so I’m just gonna come down to the main doors, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Thanks Boone,”

He hangs up and when the silence hits, so do your doubts. You drove all the way over here on impulse but now you’re having trouble convincing yourself to actually go up.

It’s pathetic. You know you need to apologize, but you’re so afraid of what happens after you do. What if he ends it? What if you lose him?

Even the thought of it causes you physical pain, how could you have been so stupid? Why did you ever agree to this?

Boone sends you a small wave and then opens the door, greeting you with a smile. “Hey,”

“Thanks so much, Boone.”

“Yeah no problem,” He replies, walking with you to the elevator. “Thanks for coming to check on him. He seemed pretty bummed out,”

“How’s his head?”

“It’s uh, okay? I don’t know, he kept on saying it didn’t hurt but he just wanted to play. No one really believes him.”

Despite feeling so guilty, you also kind of want to yell at him. Playing injured is no joke and you know there’s no way he’ll put his safety above a playoff game even though he should.

“You’ll get it out of him though.” Boone adds, and you smile in response, but you feel a pang in your stomach.

The elevator settles in silence for a minute, and you’re watching the numbers go up, only one more floor.

“How uh, how was your date with Lindsay the other night?” It’s the only thing you can think of to break the awkward silence, and thank god the doors open as if on queue.

“Huh?” Boone responds, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him. This dude can not keep his hookups straight.

You shake your head and laugh, backing down the hall you shoot him a closed smile. “Nevermind, thanks again.”

“You uh, know which one I’m assuming?” He asks, and you nod with a chuckle. “Well if you get lost Seth is right here.” He points to the door on your left and you give him an awkward thumbs up.

You both head down opposite ends of the hall, and you’re left alone in front of Josh’s door. You knock hard before you can convince yourself out of this, and wait with your eyes shut tight until there’s movement.

He opens it, looking rather bored until he sees you. He’s shirtless, only grey sweats covering his lower half. Neither of you say anything, and he looks like he’s debating something, before he just moves back so you can step in.

You’re surprised, a door slamming in your face seemed more likely than this. You toe in and he shuts the door, not turning to face you.

“How’s your head?”

He sighs and finally turns, walking stiffly into the kitchen while he rolls his eyes. “Do you know how many times I’ve been asked that tonight?”

“Probably lots,” You reply feebly, “I just want to know that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” He cuts in, white knuckling the counter, his jaw clenched while he refuses to make eye contact.

“Would you tell me if you weren’t?”

He furrows his brows at the question and you look to your feet. You feel like you’re walking a thin line, and one wrong sentence could kill you off completely, and that might have been it. It sounds too personal, too intimate and you know it rubs Josh the wrong way.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He starts, shrugging his shoulders. “We could have been better, but when it mattered most we couldn’t get it done. I’m fucking pissed as hell. Is that what you wanna hear?”

“I guess, yeah.” You nod, and your gaze falls to the floor, not sure where to go next.

“What are you even doing here?” He asks, and the harshness in his voice is enough to make tears cloud your eyes.

“I wanted to check on you.” You say honestly, sucking in a shaky breath before you speak again. “And I wanted to say sorry, and explain.”

“I don’t really wanna hear-“ He starts, but you cut him off, not realizing how loud your tone takes.

“Josh, please!”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” He raises his voice too and now you’re in a screaming match. “I was stupid, you played me, what else is there?”

“That’s how it started out,” You say, and he rolls his eyes. This seems impossible, maybe now wasn’t the right time to do this. How are you actually supposed to get through to him when he’s this upset? “You have to know that that stopped, it was real,”

He scoffs, and his body looks so rigid with anger that it’s frightening. “How am I supposed to believe anything you say?” He shouts. His face is flushed, his eyes light with rage when he looks at you and you hate that you’re the reason he’s so irate. He breathes heavily, and paces the kitchen, stopping momentarily to catch your gaze. “Why?”

When you can’t respond his shoulders tense, and he swipes at the first thing he sees. The glass goes flying, shattering against the wall while you flinch, sucking in a shaky breath to constrict the sob threatening to come out.

“What can I do to make this better?” You stutter, taking a step towards him.

He moves away from you, and your stomach clenches. He opens the cupboard and pulls out another cup, launching it at the exact same spot at the wall.

“Josh,” You cry, but nothing. Another one shatters with a sharp crack. He throws at least four before you step in, yanking the glass from his hand. “Calm down!” You shout, staring at the unrecognizable guy in front of you.

“Calm down?” He scoffs, grabbing the cup easily out of your hand while he laughs harshly. “Isn’t this what I’m supposed to do though? Let out my anger? It’s not good to bottle it up, right?” Another one shatters. Every throw is packed with aggression, the cups hitting the wall with considerable force. “Not like this, someone is gonna call the fucking cops!” You yell, grabbing the glass that he pulls out away from him. He takes an intimidating step towards you, and you back up into the counter, pressing a hand to his chest, feeling so tiny when he’s towering over you like this. He tries to grab the cup, but you move it, pushing harder at him. “Josh, stop!”

His movements cease, but he stares you down with hard eyes, still very close. “I know you’re angry.” You start, and for the first time since you’ve been here he isn’t quick to jump down your throat with a response. “You’re pissed about the game, and you’re pissed at me, and you have every right to be, but throwing all of your cups at the wall until one of the neighbours calls the police isn’t going to make you feel any better.”

“Then what is?” He whispers back, and everything is silent. The darkening shade of his eyes while he looks you over is enough to tell you what he’s thinking.

You shouldn’t. This isn’t what you came here for but you can’t help but think that this might be your last chance. If things go the other way you might never get this opportunity again and that scares you. Right now it’s obvious what he wants from you, and he might never want it again, so shouldn’t you take advantage of that?

In this moment his lips are so tempting that it’s hard to think about anything other than kissing him.

“What is?” He repeats, his gaze falling to your lips.

You swallow hard and then raise up onto your toes, your hand coming up to Josh’s cheek while you hesitantly press your lips to his.

Both of you are frozen for a moment, and you land back on flat feet before Josh reacts, but when he does it’s fast. His hands grip tightly at your waist to yank you into him, while he kisses you bruisingly.

You start to wonder if he’s held back on you until now, or if it’s the adrenaline that’s made him so strong, because you wouldn’t be able to make him move if you tried. He’s surrounding you, holding you to him with an iron grip.

He pushes further against you, and the edge of the counter digs into your lower back. The sting makes you suck in a gasp against Josh’s lips, and you feel him push again. He pulls back and his fingers glide up, slipping into your hair before he pulls down, your head falling back to rest against his palm while he wraps his other hand around your neck.

“You gonna let me take my anger out on you?” He whispers, his eyes gliding all over your body without catching your gaze.

You nod and suddenly his line of sight snaps up to meet yours, and a sinister smile creeps onto his face.

It’s the first time you’ve seen any semblance of a smile from him tonight, but it’s not his usual charming grin. It’s more scary than anything else, like you’ve just agreed to something you shouldn’t have.

As much as his behaviour is freaking you out, you know you can trust him, because his hand loosens around your throat, his grip in your hair lessening before he murmurs, “You sure?”

You look him over one more time, swallowing the lump in your throat before you nod once.

His hands disappear from you for a moment, and then he’s bending to catch the backs of your thighs. You manage to grab onto his shoulders before you fall backwards, and you look down to where you’re wrapped around him, taking a deep breath as you look back up, only to have Josh catch your lips.

You wiggle closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck until you’re flush to him, trying to match the intensity of his kiss.

It’s nearly impossible, keeping up with him, and your lips actually start to feel a little sore before he’s dumping you onto his bed, fingers curling into the waist band of your leggings. He tugs them and your underwear down in one swipe, pushing your shirt up while he spreads your legs. He drags his thumb down your slit, and you wiggle at the uncomfortable dryness. He notices, and bends down, following his finger with his tongue. He sucks on your clit, and swirls his tongue around, and it feels heavenly, but you’re afraid to moan or touch him, unsure of what his reaction might be.

He pulls up a little, and then spits onto your cunt, queuing a quiet gasp from you. Two of his fingers come to spread the wetness, dipping into your pussy to see if you’re ready.

He seems satisfied with the progress, tugging you closer to the edge of the bed. He shoves down his sweats and boxers, his hands coming under your thighs to hold them open.

He’s completely focused on himself, avoiding eye contact while he chases down a release, only concerned with making sure it’s not painful for you.

He doesn’t slow down, pushing himself into you hard until he’s bottomed out. He holds still for a second, his abs clenching while he sighs in relief, but then he’s moving fast again, grinding into you hard. He pulls you onto him with every thrust, railing into your cervix.

He continues at his pace, and it feels good but you know you’ll need more if you’re gonna cum, but that doesn’t exactly seem like a priority for him at the moment.

You’re nothing more than a doll to him right now, there’s nothing intimate about this. You’re a means for his pleasure and that’s it.

With a low groan he falls onto his arms, one hand wrapping around your throat while he picks up his pace, hips bucking wildly against yours while he chases his high.

Your mouth drops open while you try harder to get air, and the closer Josh gets, the more his grip tightens.

It gets to the point where barely any air is getting into you and you start to wiggle in his grasp, your vision clouding while he pounds into you.

Just before you feel like you’re about to pass out, he finishes, collapsing on top of you, breathing heavily.

You pant for air, and Josh stands, looking you over with an unreadable expression while he picks up his sweats.

He looks like he wants to ask if you’re okay, but can’t quite bring himself to do it, instead opting to watch carefully while your breathing regulates.

When you finally sit up, he starts to move again, pulling on his pants.

You cover yourself in the sheet and watch while he tries to busy himself, looking for something in his drawers.

You bask in the silence for long minutes until Josh finally turns back to you.

“Why is it that the one time I actually want you to leave right after, you stay?”

Your brows furrow when he says it, and you swallow the lump in your throat. “You don’t need to be a jerk.”

“Yeah, right. Sorry. I’m the one that needs to apologize for being an ass.” He says it with a venemous scoff and you feel like crying. He can’t even look at you.

“Listen. I know you’re mad at me but I’m here, and I’m trying to apologize, why won’t you let me?” You voice breaks at the end and Josh’s jaw clenches.

“You should go.” He says, and you have to blink away the tears.

“Will you please let me explain, I hav-,”

“Please!” He interrupts, and you startle at the bite behind his voice. “Just go.”

And with that the tears finally fall, while you scramble out of the bed to put on your clothes. Josh stands still, a hand over his mouth and you take one last look at him before walking out his bedroom door, even though it breaks your heart all over again.

On the way out you pass the chair, the jacket chair, and you shouldn’t, but you stop in your tracks. At this point, this is none of your business, and looking could put you in an even worse position, but you can’t help it.

You look down the hall to make sure Josh is still in his room, and then you lean over the back of the chair.

It’s still there, crumpled on the floor. You pull it up, examining it before your stomach drops even more. It’s a baby pink denim jacket that you’ve definitely seen before, and not just from seeing it here.

With a deep breath you flip it over, hoping you’re not gonna see a silver ‘feminist’ patch among others on the back. You’d recognize it anywhere, you helped her put on all the badges.

It was Lindsay’s.

Your head feels like it’s vibrating, your thoughts tangling while you try to sort out the things in your brain. He just told you to leave but you can’t, so you walk gingerly back up to his doorway, where he’s stood in exactly the same position. You hold the jacket behind your bag, and Josh starts to say something, but you don’t let him.

“At Boone’s party. I lied to you. And you knew I lied, but you didn’t call me out,” You explain, watching carefully for Josh’s reaction. He looks defensive, and the clarity that you need is finally coming through. “I was so confused. You said you were watching me all night, and I was wondering why you didn’t talk to me.”

You hold out the jacket, and Josh’s whole demeanour changes. It all makes sense. “You were acting weird at the party because you saw me come in with Lindsay, right?”

The strands are all connecting and you thought that this situation couldn’t get any worse, but obviously it has, and you feel like you could throw up.

You think about Boone, and his reaction to you bringing up Lindsay at his party, and when he let you in.

“I came with a friend. Boone knows her, Lindsay?” You had said, but Boone just looked lost, like he had no clue who you were talking about. And then again tonight, when you asked how his night with Lindsay was, he once again, looked confused.

Boone doesnt know who Lindsay is. Because Lindsay never slept with Boone.

“Did you...” You start to ask, but stop when you feel a physical pain shoot through your chest. You know what the answer is, and it’s only gonna hurt more to hear it, but you need to hear him say it. “Did you and Lindsay- did you...?”

You meet his eyes and the guilt behind them is all you need.

“Y/N,” He starts, but you hold up a hand, cause you don’t actually know if you have the heart to hear what he has to say.

“How could you?”

“Let me explain-,” He tries to jump in, taking a step towards you but you lurch backwards like you’ve been burned.

“How could you?! You had the audacity to get mad at me for what I did when you were sleeping with my bestfriend?” You start to turn around, but Josh’s hand wraps around your arm.

You don’t even think about your next actions, it’s like an instant reflex. Your palm flies across Josh’s cheek, his head turning to the side while you stare with wide eyes, unbelieving of what you’ve just done.

“Do not touch me!” Your voice is explosive, and he looks taken aback. “You will never touch me again. Not after this.” You’re disgusted with yourself for not seeing this sooner, for letting him use you tonight. “Not after that.” Your voice breaks while you motion towards his bed, the barrier breaking while tears start to fall.

His nostrils flare and he looks down on you with pure rage. You swallow dryley, and pull your arm out of his grasp. He opens his mouth to talk, and then shuts it again, jaw clenching like he’s trying not to go off. You’re not prepared for the yelling that’s about to come, you’re so mad that you don’t want him to make a point, you can’t listen to his side of things right now.

You try to leave again but Josh’s booming voice makes you startle, stopping in your tracks. “Don’t you dare walk out of here.”

You turn slightly, refusing to make eye contact with him. “You think that just because I slept with Lindsay I’m not allowed to be pissed that you fucking played me?”

“Oh please!” You’re shouting back blindly, the words coming out of your mouth before you even have a chance to think about them. “What I did is nothing compared to sleeping with my bestfriend!”

“You have no idea what even happened! You won’t let me explain!” You’ve never seen him like this, so angry. If you weren’t right there with him you’d probably be bawling right now, but you’re just as pissed off as he is, and all you feel like doing is yelling right back.

“Right, cause I’m gonna give you that opportunity after you made no attempt whatsoever to hear me out! And what is there for you to explain? What explanation could you possibly have other than the obvious.”

“You wouldn’t know cause you won’t fucking listen!”

“I can’t listen!” You shout, taking a second to breathe in the middle this outburst. “I’m so unbelievably mad at you right now that I can’t listen to anything you have to say!”

“Well that makes two of us!” That’s all he says. And you’re left staring at each other with complete hatred.

With a pathetic shake of your head, you turn to leave again but are once again stopped.

“Don’t.” Josh says, his tone final.

“God damnit, Josh!” You cry, “You told me five minutes ago to get out, you can’t tell people to leave and then get mad when they go!”

“If you leave nothing is going to get solved!” He shouts, and you roll your eyes at how hypocritical this all is.

“Says the one who walked out without so much as a word last week!”

“I was mad!”

That’s all he has to say for himself. You laugh bitterly, and shake your head, turning on your heel while you tell him, “Well so am I! And I’m leaving.”

You stomp to his front door and he follows you the whole way, staying close behind. You open the door about two inches only for it to be pushed closed by Josh, and you stand still, completely defeated.

“Let me go.” You whisper, pulling at the door, but he’s too strong.

“No.” He says, and you flip on him, pushing your hands into his solid chest to get him to move. It’s pathetic, how hard you’re trying and how easy it is for him to hold his ground.

“Let me go. Now.”

His stare is intimidating, but you stand firm, keeping his gaze locked until finally he breaks, shaking his head, stepping back.

You look at him while you turn the door knob, and your stomach drops at how final this feels, but you walk out anyway, too upset to try to solve anything.

The reality hits you like bricks as soon as the door shuts behind you. You walk down the hall blindly until you get to the elevator, and you’re disgusted by the images that you can’t get out of your head.

Everything you’ve ever done with Josh is suddenly being rerouted to Lindsay, she’s replaced you in all your memories and suddenly they’re all tinted red with anger.

He slept with your best friend.

You’re so blinded with rage that you don’t even think twice when you knock on Seth’s door.

#liv writes #gpp fic #j.anderson #search tags:#josh anderson #josh anderson imagine #columbus blue jackets #columbus blue jackets imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl smut

469 notes · View notes