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#call me crosby
barzzal · 2 months
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call me crosby → interlude p.2
summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.
pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: angst, language, swearing, mentions of blood genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 9.3k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist
note: the interlude is a two-part chapter dedicated for what happened between sidney and reader in the past and why everything had to happen ;) pls pls tread lightly as these chapters contain sensitive themes. you may stop reading at any time should it make you feel uncomfortable. this is just a reminder that you are still responsible for what you consume. all that aside, happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)
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disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.  
Your mind wanders to the not so distant past while you do your night time routine. You blankly stare at yourself absent-mindedly as you lather lotion on your hands and arms. 
It’s crazy how madly and deeply in love you and Sidney were a week ago. 
You can’t help but reminisce about the reckless night you and Sidney shared. The very night that you think might have led to such a life-altering event. 
“Babe?” you hear Sidney call for you from the bathroom. 
You have just gotten home from an annual fundraising ball that the Pittsburgh Penguins hold to support the foundations it is in partnership with. As the captain, and arguably the face of the franchise, Sidney’s hectic night also meant having to always stand wearing your impractical heels and a smile that has to be genuine enough– but not so much as to come off pretentious and inauthentic. 
While all of the actions you’ve shown were true, it was evident that the pressure to remain perfect was taxing. To say that you were tired would even be an understatement.
You feel a hint of hunger but even that won’t stand against your need for a good night’s sleep. 
As you lazily take off your earrings from one ear to another, you hum as a cue for Sidney to let you know whatever it was that’s going on in his mind. 
“How does this thing work exactly?” 
Baffled about the query, you lay your jewelry pieces flat onto the tray, and aim for the bathroom. You were still wearing the dress that elegantly clothed you for the entire night. It was a dress that Sidney had picked out himself. A dress that he knew would compliment and suit his girl just right. 
The sliding doors of the bathroom were already half-open thereby causing you to see Sidney’s reflection in the mirror; his brows furrowed in total and utter bewilderment. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask, meeting his eyes in the mirror once he hears your voice. 
He turns to face your way and in his hand rests what seemed like a tiny, but regular, container of skin moisturizer you have been meaning for him to try. 
“You watch me get ready for bed for years now, honey.” you idly tell him. 
Sidney recognizes the exhaustion in your words, enjoying how your lazy voice register in his ears. He smiles. 
“I don’t want to risk doing it wrong,” he explains. “I looked up this brand on the internet and I must say, it costs a lot for such a tiny bottle.” 
You roll your eyes as you take the product from him. “It costs a lot because it also takes a lot to rescue,” you pause for effect as you playfully point at him, “that face.”
The two of you chuckle softly. Bare feet and about to get unready. 
“Have you washed your face?” you ask him. Sidney nods. 
“Alright. What else have you done?” 
He shrugs, glancing over to his side of the sink. You’ve laid out a few products for him. Some of them he’d already gotten used to and some that he’s still figuring out. Sidney tells you about the few products he has initially applied. 
“Could you please help me?” he asks in that voice he only uses with no one else but you. 
You sigh dreadfully, eyes already closed with how tired you were. You lean your head on his shoulder, mumbling your words. 
“But I’m so sleepy.” you let him know. After having a few seconds of rest, you add, “I haven’t even gotten my makeup off yet.” 
Sidney knows you were beat. Even if he doesn’t tell you, he truly appreciates the great lengths you go for him. You don’t have to do it, but you did it all just the same for as long as it involved Sidney.
“I’ll take it off,” he volunteers. 
“Pfft.” you snicker a foolish laugh. “I bet I can get a goal past you faster than you can learn how to take my makeup off. Properly.”
��Come on,” he says, putting his hands on your waist, giving it a good squeeze. “You got to at least let me try. I know you’re tired.”
You give him a smile but reply in a commanding tone, “Promise you’ll do it like I do?” 
Sidney nods, ready to do after your bidding. “Religiously.” 
Once you agree, you let him gently lift you up the counter next to the sink so as to let you be in a comfortable position. By the looks of it, the odds of you falling asleep were high and Sidney just couldn’t bear letting you stand on your feet after you’ve murdered them with those ridiculously high heels.
“Nooo,” Sidney coos. “Don’t fall asleep.”
With closed eyes, you softly chuckle. “Mkay.”
He glances over to the rack where you keep your nighttime essentials and asks, “What do I do first?” 
Sidney willfully follows every instruction you give him as you patiently guide him throughout the process. His endless musings, in the hopes of keeping you awake, have evidently worked despite your exhausted state. 
You didn’t want to drift off anyway. You were in total bliss feeling his touch; soft with care – delicate. Sidney’s fingers graze onto your skin ever so lightly as he applied every product. He did what he had promised you. He did your nighttime routine religiously. 
His movements were put to a stop. You hear a soft clink of the product onto the tray; a sign that he was through. 
Before you get to open your eyes, Sidney leans towards you. He then lightly pressed his lips against yours so as to give you a peck. 
He plants a couple more before he eventually breaks away. 
“Done.” He says enthusiastically, seeing you with a wide smile on your face.
“Yeah?” you briefly open your eyes, Sidney coming into full view. You see him half-naked with only his pajama bottoms on. His chest was rose-colored; perfectly in contrast with the shade of his stubble.
You take a quick glance at yourself in the mirror so you could get a peak of what he’s done. Huh. Pretty good. 
You turn your head back and face him wearing a tight-lipped smile. 
“Like it?” he asks. “How did I do?” 
“You did fine.” you kid. 
Sidney pretends to be appalled. “Fine? Just fine?” 
“Uh-huh.” you tease. “Not bad for a first timer.”
“A’right.” he says with a smirk. “I know I could’ve done a lot worse than a ‘not bad’ so I’ll take it.”
“I’m just playing with you.” you tell him. “You did a good job.”
You open your arms, asking for a hug. Obligingly, he leans in and lets you wrap your arms around his nape. Your hands then found their way onto his face. Your fingers graze over rough stubble just as your eyes meet Sidney’s. 
With your thumb landing on his lips, you gently pull Sidney’s face closer so you could lock him in a kiss. Gentle and sweet. Passionate despite being done swiftly. You feel each other’s warmth– with your mouth and your bodies pressed so close together. 
Once the two of you break away, you say, “Thank you for taking care of me.”
His left hand removes some errant strands that lazily fashioned the side of your face. The other makes its way on the small of your back, pulling you even closer. 
Before the two of you dive into another kiss, Sidney says, “Thank you for letting me.”
𖥸
When Sidney asked you to move in with him, the first thing he did was to start a major renovation of his home. You were not a fan of it because of the obvious reason; it was unnecessary. But alas, Sidney had his ways. He told you it was not just his home anymore. It was yours. “Ours.” was what he said. 
It didn’t matter where the two of you were. Sidney had countless away games and series, and you had your fair share of business meetings on your end. But no matter where the two of you were, regardless of being away, your togetherness was kept by the home you have built with him. After all, Sidney’s home was just a massive block of building situated on acres and acres of land, standing still and lonely. 
Then came you. 
He stripped his home clean when you moved in. Little by little, you were able to incorporate yourself into his home. You had a say in every change; what has to go and what can stay. What paint colors to use and what kind of furniture he should get. Sidney did nothing but say "yes" the entire time. He wanted you to feel at home as much as he did. Neither the place nor the big still and lonely building did matter because he had you. For Sidney, you were home.
From the gorgeous outdoor landscape, classic hardwood floors, to high and white ceilings, Sidney wanted every corner of his home – inside and out, to have a touch of you. Only you. 
It was his futile attempt at a romantic gesture. He wanted to be reminded of you each time he was in it. Because just like what he said, no matter what happens, wherever he may be, you were the person he knew he’s always going to come home to. 
Looking back, it hasn’t occurred to you just how high and white the ceilings were. How distant everything seemed. Without Sidney, all of it seemed dull and ordinary. You just did not realize it until you spent the last several hours staring at that boring ceiling, lying in an all too cold bed that has seen the best and the worst of you and Sidney.
In spite of your still heavy and tired eyes due to all the crying, you find yourself reaching for your phone yet again. Maybe this time you’d get an answer.
“Please pick up.” you utter as you try to numb yourself with the endless ringing of the line. It was getting really late. Even with what happened earlier, you still wanted to hear his voice. That way you’d know he was okay. That way you’d know he was coming home. 
With time feeling like eternity, you managed to give it some thought. Maybe it was your fault. Maybe he was right. You did attack him; one way or another. You could have told him some other time when it felt right or when neither of you were tired. Maybe that way, he could have reacted differently. 
The weight you feel in your chest must have been incomparable to how he felt. It came to him unsuspectedly. The least you could have done was lay it all down easy. But no, you chose to put him in a difficult position where he has to choose between his present and the future. An ambush that was undeniably uncalled for.
Maybe, at some point, you forgot Sidney had a life where you didn’t belong. Maybe that was where you went wrong. Sidney had a life. You made him yours. 
Your hand travels down to your stomach so as to remind you of what life already is – what life will be. Sidney knew you were carrying his child and the first thing he did was leave. For somebody else, it would have been their cue to go. But here you were, instead of feeling all the right things you should be feeling, still waiting for him. 
If your calculations were right, it was another hour before Sidney finally came home. You turned away from the bedroom door and pretended to be asleep. He was quiet but his presence said otherwise. There wasn’t much movement being that Sidney was stoned at the door looking across the room. Looking at you. 
Out of all the years that the two of you have spent together, this was the first time he actually did not feel like coming home. 
Instead of the comfort he’s always felt each time he opened the door to your shared bedroom, Sidney felt unsure. It was as if he almost did not want to come home at all. Because you, who once brought him peace, was the very person who handed onto him a havoc served on a silver plate. 
Sidney no longer minded the fact that he knew you waited for him. He knew you were still awake yet the first thing he chose to do was head towards the bathroom. The clear cut sound of the door coming to a close sends shivers down your spine. You try blinking it away, but the tears just start coming. 
When the bathroom door opens, you squeeze your eyes shut knowing what’s to come next. It was a while before Sidney decided to come to bed. You feel it shift with the weight of having Sidney in it. 
Normally, his arms would magically snake its way to your body and lock you in an embrace. That was the only way for Sidney to get a comfortable sleep. Now, he stares at the ceiling for a good minute or so before he shifts and looks at the back of your head. 
He did not want to say a thing though he felt like he needed to. 
It was wrong for him to feel this way. He knew that. But now that he’s conflicted, Sidney knows he’s going to have to give himself some time. Perhaps, even some time away. From this house. From you.
He takes a deep breath; long but subtle. The one you make when you’re trying to calm yourself before diving off a cliff. Sidney wishes he could come out of his. To be able to swim back to his surface. Because as hard as it was to admit, you were drowning him. 
“Will you ever change your mind?” he breaks the ice and asks. 
Despite being nervous to what his answer might be, you return the question. 
“Will you change yours?”
He doesn’t say a word. And with that, you knew Sidney’s silence was his answer. 
You do the same. 
Though there was something he did want to let you know. 
I don’t want to have to lose you. 
But instead, he says, “I don’t want to lose you.”
You stifle a sob as a tear meets your pillow. 
You didn’t answer. You didn’t answer not because you didn’t want to. You didn’t answer because you were afraid that you couldn’t think of any. 
You hate to think you’d have to lose one another over the very thing that was supposed to make the two of you whole. The truth is, you were scared about so many things. You just didn’t know you’d have to be scared about losing Sidney. 
𖥸
A few days have passed since you and Sidney got to talking. It was barely one being that all you’ve done was fight. It was already more than just an argument and time has been nothing but cruel in letting you know that the sudden change you see in him now is his way of telling you that the both of you are not and will never be on the same page. 
Sidney chose to drown himself more in his Summer commitments. The last thing you heard he was off signing brand deals and staying a lot longer at the club. Now, while he’s busy playing in between putts and pucks, you’ve gone to another appointment and have been taking good care of yourself and your baby to the best of your abilities. 
You were at the task of putting away the lillies you have bought on your way home when you hear Sidney’s car enter the driveway. It would not be long before he opens the door. You have not really thought of what to say to him. As much as you try to understand where he’s coming from, you badly hope he does the same thing to you and simply honor what’s already on the table. 
The sound of keys being tossed onto the bowl rings throughout the hallway; commencing Sidney’s arrival. You see him enter the room in his usual golfing attire, lugging his equipment behind him. 
You have not felt the thick air of uncertainty for a while and you realize it was because he was not around. You offer him a tight-lipped smile once you meet his eyes. 
“Hey, you.” you call for him in a tone that lets him know you were open to talk should he want to discuss things with you. 
Sidney declines your invitation through his own, “Hi.” 
You feel a pang in your chest so you try and make up for it by putting the rest of the mess sitting on the island away. Sidney, on the other hand, sees what you’re trying to do. Nevertheless, he ignores it. Instead, he makes his way around you, heading towards the fridge to get a drink. 
You give up.
“Is this really how you want things to be when you come home?” you ask.
Sidney sighs, letting your words sit in the air. He lets the sound of the water hitting the glass mock you as an answer. You watch him drink its entirety with a stern face, unbothered to even look you in the eye.
A month ago you can’t even picture him behaving like this. Time is fickle, so they say. But it is just as unpredictable and brutal. 
“Sid,” you call, failing to mask the sound of your voice nearly breaking. Of course, you were desperate to have a decent conversation with him. You miss him. And even though you know you would not change your mind anymore, the best thing you can do is to at least have the chance to change his. 
“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” you reach for his hand to hold it. 
For a moment, you see his eyes soften. He looks down on your hands. You were scared that he was going to dismiss you but much to your relief, Sidney held your hand instead. He tenderly rubbed the back of your hand whilst he tried to find the words to utter. 
This was one of the things you miss. Sidney’s touch. He’s always had a way with it. Nothing really mattered for as long as Sidney held you. You felt so secure – safe from anything that may come your way. For as long as you were with Sidney, you needn’t have to feel scared. 
Just when you feel a sliver of hope, you see a somber expression in his face the moment you look back at him. 
“I don’t have anything new to say.” he nearly apologizes. 
Disappointment now printed all over yours, you choose to let him know of what kept you busy. 
“I went to Claire and got a sonogram.” you tell him, forcing out a smile. 
You opted not to get one the first time despite Claire’s advice. You wanted to have Sidney with you in that room. But now, it was painfully clear that it might never happen. Not to mention the fact that his child is continuing to grow regardless of what he had to say about it. 
Sidney gladly lets your hand go so as to caress his nape. When he falls silent, you continue nonetheless.
“The baby is healthy.” you add.
Shrugging the latter off, he asks, “What about you?”
He still cared about you. At least that was there. 
Is it really too much to wish he’d feel the same way for his child?
“I’m fine.” you answer, uninterested with your own well-being.
Sidney says nothing else but nods, dismissing whatever you still have to say concerning his unborn child. 
“Won’t you at least see it?” you try for yet another time. 
Sidney’s jaw clenches but he chooses to let it go. He didn’t come home to fight. 
He pays you a meaningful look, devoid of the fact that the said sonogram was already pinned on the fridge along with a few old polaroids that the two of you intentionally kept for each other’s sake. 
“I told you, I don’t have anything new to say.” he repeats himself. “And I still won’t even if I see it.” 
It was clear that the two of you were trying to make ends meet. But Sidney was not trying hard enough.
“Then what are we doing here?” 
You were offended, of course. You were utterly hurt by his appalling insensitiveness. Sidney did not give even an inch of care but that shouldn’t justify acting too much of an ass about it.
“Am I supposed to wait for you to change your mind before I continue carrying your child?” you continue, “I’m pretty sure pregnancy doesn’t work that way, Sid.”
Do you take him for a fool? He thinks. 
You touched a nerve, causing Sidney to lose himself again. 
“Who even told you I wanted one?” he retorted. 
What does he think would happen after sex? A gala? A dinner party?
You need not stress on the obvious. Besides, doing so would just take you miles down the surface you’ve barely even scratched. Dealing with a closed-minded Sidney and piling on his share of negativity would just be counterproductive. 
“I’m not changing my mind, Sidney.” you firmly state.
The time Sidney was gone did not make you want the things he wanted. It just made you certain – so sure, that you want nothing else but this baby. And you know there was no other way out. 
“Are you with me on this or not?” 
He scoffs at the thought of you making him choose. 
“You’d really go that far, wouldn’t you?” 
“That far?” you scorn.
“Sidney, that ‘far’ we happened to be discussing right now, is a life together!” you stress, pointing a finger at his chest. “So, yes. I am willing to go that far.”
Sidney could not find the words to save his own cause. But regardless of the problem he still hopes you can set aside, he knows that you will eventually come to your senses and choose the life that you were already living with him.
However, the wounds were barely even healed and here you were, deciding to pick at it again.
“I told you to come back only when you’re ready to be an adult about this and face it with me.” you order. “I don’t need you starting a fight because you know I will never change my mind.”
“Well, you know what? Neither will I.” Sidney shakes his head, adamant to bow down in favor of your will. 
“There. I said it.” he adds, thinking of the night you told him about your pregnancy. 
He sees your eyes watering and he knew it would be enough for you to pull him back in. But this wasn’t like the other times. You wanted different things and he did too. Maybe that’s how it should be. Maybe it isn’t worth prolonging what has clearly ended.
“You’re right.” he says, “I shouldn’t have come home in the first place.”
Suffice it to say that he did not deserve to feel half of what you have been feeling, you hold him back once he starts retreating.
“W-Where are you going?” 
“Geno’s.” He shortly answers. “I cannot be on board with something you chose to decide all on your own.”
You fall silent as it was not the response you were expecting, especially not from Sidney. So instead of speaking for you and his unborn child, you watch him leave once again. 
𖥸
Sidney made sure he was kept preoccupied for a reason. It was evident that you were making him choose. And despite him denying, he is certain that regardless of the path he’d be taking, you’ll choose to have the baby and leave the life you have already built with him. 
He hated the possibility that you might leave him for something that was unplanned. Something that could have been prevented by a birth control shot. But no, it didn’t. It frustrates him that you won’t take the only ‘out’ he’s got to offer. It frustrates him even more to know that regardless of your choice, he just could not see himself being tied up to a commitment he knows he will never want.
Yes, he may have wanted and hoped for a life with you but that was it. Only you. He did not need anything more. On top of it all, he’s scared. He’s scared because he knows that he almost hated you for it. 
You have reached an impasse and you and Sidney both know it. It was just a matter of who’s going to be the one to break it to the other. He doesn’t want to be the one to do so, hence why he chose to leave. 
Sidney was a man that loved calculation. Everything had to be precise. Otherwise meant having to give a shot at failure. That was how he felt for the majority of his career. He did excel at school but it did not challenge him. It took less energy and made him less driven. He wanted to acquire so much and be so much more within so little time. Wishful thinking and ambitions aside, he made everything he wanted happen. 
He just wishes he could figure this one out before it’s too late. 
Geno had his feet up on the couch, hands were glued on the game controller, yelling at the TV. It was another game that he had one of Anna’s nephews teach him. He had nothing to do for the entire day and he was a firm believer that wasting time was not really wasted – only if you make it count. 
The count, if you dare ask, was a 2-4 game versus some kid on the internet. N8Dawg29.
Geno’s shouting at the TV was put to a stop when the doorbell rang. 
“Lucky bastard.” he says, throwing the controller elsewhere. 
Given the moment’s notice, he wasn’t expecting anyone. He had no idea who it was at the other side of the door. By the time he opens it, Sidney’s face comes into view. 
“Sid!” he says his name with a giant smile on his face. The very same smile that was washed away by the look Sidney had on his. Lost. 
What brings you here? was what he wanted to ask. But given the way his friend looked, it was apparent that something big was bothering him.
“What’s wrong?” 
Concern traveled to Geno’s eyes when Sidney spoke of your name as an answer. 
“Is she alright?” he asks him, opening the doors of his home wide for Sidney. 
Sidney looks him in the eye and says, “She’s pregnant.”
As the brand new information hit him, Geno begins to realize that such news might not have been well-received by Sidney. 
Uncomfortable and panicking as to how he’d make light of the situation, Geno asks, “Who’s the father?”
𖥸
Geno knew he needed reinforcement. N8Dawg29 would have to wait. 
No, it wasn’t because Geno was losing. It was because he had more important things to tend to. Let him leave it at that.
Two crystal clear snifter glasses were pinched in between his fingers whilst his other hand held a bottle of premium scotch. He takes long strides across the room, making his way towards the lesser halves of the Pittsburgh Penguins’ three-headed monster. 
The Captain had just broken the news to Kris, but unlike Geno, the defenseman took his time before sharing his two cents. Sidney spared no detail as to what happened. The truth that he didn’t want a baby, and the ugly truth that you did. 
Just like how he looked in front of Geno, the expression on Sidney’s face was more than enough for Kris to deduce that congratulations weren’t in order. Despite him being happy to learn about your pregnancy, Kris just couldn’t let Sidney feel as though his feelings were invalid. 
Quietly, whilst the biggest names of the team sat together, the weight of the elephant in the room was still borne solely by the team’s captain. Once each of them was able to take a sip from their respective glasses, it was Kris’ turn to ask a question. 
“Does she really intend to keep the baby?” 
Sidney nods as the alcohol runs down his throat. 
“Actually, she made me choose,” he says. “–said she’d do it with or without me.”
“Are you going to let her?” 
Sid meets Kris’ eyes, “What would you have me do?”
Kris takes a deep breath, conflicted as to whether he was in the position to say what’s in his mind. “You know it really doesn’t matter what I think. It is still your decision.” 
“Of course, it matters.” Sidney counters. You’re a father. He wanted to add.
“What is it that you want to hear from me?” 
“Just hit me. Tell me how you feel. I can handle it.” 
“All right,” Kris puts down his glass thereafter clasping his hands. “Are you a hundred percent sure that you don’t want to be a Dad?” 
Sidney finds it hard to answer. But he knows it wasn’t because there may be a slight chance that he would eventually want to be one. It was mainly because he knew saying it out loud would paint him in a bad light. He can’t afford to look selfish in front of his friends.
Kris questions, “So, you’re telling me you haven’t pictured yourself with a child? Ever?” 
“Of course, I have. It’s just– I don’t want to have one now.” Sidney feels like a fool for saying it out loud. “You know I love kids. I have always been great with them. You know how I am with Alex, right?” 
Sidney looks at Geno once he speaks but all Geno did was avoid his gaze. Even he didn’t favor how Sidney had to bring up his godson as an example.
Instead, Geno asks, “Then what is the problem?” 
“I don’t think I can be a good father. I’m afraid I’d screw it up.” Sidney fiddles with his fingers. 
“How can you be so sure you won’t be a good father?” 
Sidney sighs, “How did you know?”
“No one knows they’re going to be a kick-ass Dad until they become one.” Kris says. “I couldn’t even figure out how diapers work the first time I had to do it, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to be a good Dad.”
Sidney runs a hand through his naked hair. “Maybe that’s it.” 
Kris’ eyebrows furrow, waiting for Sidney to continue. 
“How can I be good at something I don’t even want to become?” He looks at both of his greatest friends. 
He continues. “It’s different with you and Catherine, Kris. You both wanted Alex. You both wanted kids. I’m not quite sure I can even begin to like the idea of having my own and yet, here it is – already tearing me and Y/N apart.”
Kris takes a deep breath. 
With his words subtly laced with judgment, he says, “There is only one thing you can do.” 
“What?” Sidney raises a brow.
“You have to let her go.” Kris continued. “Even if it means she’d have to do it alone.” 
Kris respects Sidney for not wanting to have a child. He knows he’d have to understand where Sidney’s at in life. If he says he’s not ready to father a child, then so be it. But that does not give him a pass on being a selfish prick who he’d still have to understand in exchange for you and your unborn child’s sake. You were as important as Sidney is to Kris. He wouldn’t simply allow Sidney to take everything he could while you empty yourself for him. 
Sidney asks yet another appalling query. 
“Do you really think she’d choose it over me?” 
Kris answers with a knowing look on his face, “Any responsible adult would choose a baby over you, Sidney.” 
“Kris,” Geno puts his glass down, interfering. 
“What does that supposed to mean?” Sidney takes offense.
“What did you expect me to say, anyway? Did you come here expecting I will coddle you? That Geno and I will help you be this irresponsible?” Kris tells him off, switching glances between the two of them.
Geno calls him in a definitive tone. “Tanger, stop.” 
“No,” he stressed. “The two of you came to my house asking for my help. Here it is. I am a father. It’s one thing to feel unready for such an immense responsibility. I get that. But, it seems to me that you’re seeing this predicament as a game you just have to win no matter what. That kid isn’t even born yet and here you are, antagonizing him for breaking your relationship. That is your child, Sidney. Your child with the woman you claim to love. Even if you don’t want it, the least you could do is acknowledge that it’s here. It’s not just a thing you have to tolerate.” 
Sidney and Geno fall silent. 
Kris gathers himself and stands, aiming to leave the room. 
“Let her go, Sidney.” he recapitulates. “You know you’re not the person she needs right now.”
𖥸
Three days have gone since Sidney left home. You haven’t gotten enough sleep since then. You’ve tried busying yourself tending to some house chores but none of it sufficed. Tiring yourself did not help in your pursuit to keep your mind from thinking of him.
As much as you wanted to, regardless of your doctor’s orders, you just can’t function bearing a magnitude as heavy as the one you’re facing with Sidney, hanging over your head. Here you are, barely functioning through a day, how could you possibly picture a life without him in it? It seems as though the past is now a blur. But then again, so is your future. 
“Hey,” Cath’s voice soothes you from the other end of the line. “How are you?”
You almost forgot that you were on a call with Catherine. 
Dissociated, you answer, “I’m… I’m doing okay.” 
“Are you sure?” she asks for the hundredth time. 
For the past three days, you’ve always answered that you were. Perhaps, it was for you to save face in the hopes of seeing Sidney again. 
“No.” you finally admit despite Catherine already knowing, “I’m trying.”
“I know you are.” she says. 
It seems as though she wanted to say something else but didn’t know how. Sidney, apart from staying with the Malkin’s has gotten the liking of dropping by her house to see her husband. It had been a day since the first time they had talked about you. Catherine knew little of it but she knew Kris didn’t exactly agree with whatever Sidney had told him. 
Finally, she lets out a sigh, “Listen, Sidney’s here.”
Your heart skips a beat at the mere mention of his name. With a glint of hope in your voice, you ask to confirm. “He is? How is he?”
“Well, to be honest, not good.”
You find comfort at the thought. You might still have a relationship worth saving. 
“Do you want to speak with him? I can–” Catherine offers but you’re quick to decline. Maybe some time to himself will do you both good. 
“No don’t, Cath. Really, it’s fine.” you say with a sad smile. “Knowing that he’s there is enough.”
Silence sits on the line for a moment. You have always waited for Sidney to come home for the majority of your entire relationship. It didn’t matter if he was gone for days or even more than a week; he came home every time. That thought alone made the wait bearable. Now, the uncertainty of it all just makes the wait longer because unlike before, you’re no longer sure he’ll be coming home. 
“Have you been taking care of yourself?” Cath pulls you back from your thoughts. The truth is, you haven’t. 
“Have you been eating? What about your medications? Are you taking them?”
“Well, yeah. I am. I am taking them.” Sometimes on an empty stomach. Sometimes you miss it by an hour or two. 
“Have you slept at all today?” 
“I… Not really. I haven’t been sleeping well. There’s a lot going on in my mind.” you say as your eyes flicker to your surroundings. You then realize that the chaos in your mind has begun to translate into your home. Your sight eventually falls onto the load of dishes you’ve yet to tend to and others already cleaned waiting to be put away. 
“I know. But you need to take it easy.” she reminds you. Catherine has a point. 
“Please take care of yourself, Y/N.” you hear her sigh. “Your baby needs you.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” you earnestly tell her, adding that Claire’s stopping by in an hour or two. “A friend is coming over to keep me company tonight. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” 
However, just as you stand whilst talking, you feel a sudden surge of sharp pain in your abdomen. 
You find yourself holding your lower stomach, unsure if it was something to be concerned about. Claire has informed you about the minor discomforts you were inevitably going to feel as your body adjusts to being pregnant, but was it supposed to hurt this much? 
Catherine calls your name when you failed to answer. 
“Yeah?” 
You start to walk, aiming towards the kitchen. Your palm rests on your abdomen in an attempt to relieve yourself of the pain you were still feeling. 
You hold the phone with a bit more pressure, you hear Cath ask, “How are you really? You know you can tell me stuff. I know it must have been tough having to deal with Sid.” 
You sigh in an effort to alleviate the pain. Your eyes begin to water by the mention of his name. It has been tough for you. If Cath could see it, how come Sidney couldn’t?
“I miss him, Catherine.” 
“I know you do.” she replies sympathetically.  “How can I help you?”
“I don’t know.” you reply as your breath becomes labored. “Just– , please tell him to come home.”
You shut your eyes, pressing on your stomach once you reached the counter. 
“We need him.”
𖥸
Was Kris right? Sidney was deep in thought as the paddle hit the ball from one end of the table to another. Geno hits it right back. Sidney does the same. They go on and on uttering no words but mere sighs and labored breathing as they play the game of table tennis. 
Even if Kris was right, he knew it was still going to be Sidney’s decision. If you yourself could not convince him of the life he so clearly does not want, what makes Kris think he can do otherwise?
Despite the heated conversation, Sidney was still thankful Kris had a gym in his basement. He needed to clear his mind; something Geno understood. Sidney rarely gets upset, but most of the times he did, it was for the right reasons. Now, however, Geno wasn’t sure.
“What are you thinking, Sid?” Geno asks as he recovers after missing the ball. 
Through his still labored breathing, Sidney puts the paddle down and briefly looks at him. He shakes his head, not devoid of a single thought - but overwhelmed by millions of it concerning: you. 
When he doesn’t hear a word from Sidney, he finally asks, “It’s been three days. Don’t you want to come home?” 
Sid plays it off with a grin, “Why? You’re getting sick of me?”
Geno rolls his eyes, “Yes, what are you gonna do about it?”
The two of them share a brief laugh, trying to lighten the weight bore by the topic of you. 
“I don’t know, man.” This time, Sidney tells him the truth. He does not know. He had hoped to know by being away from you. But if asked the same question of whether he wants the life that you do, he still has the same answer. 
Before he can say another word, Geno speaks as if he read Sidney’s mind.
“If it’s not entirely a yes, it’s a no, Sid.” he tells him. “You’ve got only two ways out of this. To stay or to leave.”
Sidney’s taken aback. 
To stay would mean to live a life off his books; blind and unplanned. He’d be traversing an environment completely foreign and unknown. To have a child of his own. To have a family. Forever. 
And on the other, to leave would mean to accept the gut-wrenching picture of a life without you; to embrace it through and through. And maybe hope that someday, it will eventually get easier. 
Before Sidney could even answer, the Letangs came rushing into the room. 
“We gotta go,” Kris announces with urgency, the key to his car already in his hand. 
Sidney’s eyes fall onto a frantic Catherine who was clutching onto her phone - voice trembling as she says, “It’s Y/N.”
𖥸
Sidney has never feared anything in his life. Between having to leave home at such a young age and thereafter fighting the horrible concussions that cost him almost fifty games off of his career, he has never felt as frightened as he did when it was you who was already on the line. He admits that he was not in the right mind to deal with what you have told him, but the fear of losing you was so insurmountable that it made being a father seem less terrifying than he could have possibly imagined. 
“Where is she?” 
“Is she okay?”
“Have you seen Claire?”
Wanting to breathe became obsolete once Sidney chose to speak all aforementioned. He held Cath’s shoulder, almost shaking her, in an attempt to get an answer. 
“Claire took care of everything. She’s fine.” she says, relaying what Claire had told her. 
He lets go a sigh of relief. He runs his fingers through his evidently unkempt hair – and asks, “What about the baby?”
If the record was right, it was the first time he’s ever asked about your baby. 
Despite how Cath felt about Sidney, she did not simply have the answer.
Worriedly, he walks past her and looks through the small window of the lounge door. He sees a handful of people, mostly visitors. Sure – there were doctors going from one side of the room to the other wearing their coats and clipboards in hand, talking. Always talking. Giving out information, whether well-received or heart piercing. It was a whole ‘nother job that seemed so ordinary. A whole lot more than what is perceived.
Sidney wanted to go to you. He wanted to find you. But how can he do that if doing so would mean causing more risks than he’s already had? Because even if it was the least of his worries, Sidney could not possibly handle more attention from the crowd. 
It was exactly the ugliness you had to bear being with Sidney. Being with him meant having to consider who he was inside and outside of the rink; that your personal life is inevitably tangled with the one he had with his skates on. There was no double life with Sidney. He has successfully integrated the two so he gets to live both. As for you, you were the tide that went along with it — the tide that kept his boat afloat. 
𖥸
Claire hoped she wouldn’t be spending the night in the hospital. But then came you. 
She was glad she still had the spare key you’ve given her to your home. Between scrambling to find it amidst her million other keys and finding you sitting on the cold floor of the kitchen, holding your stomach, with blood apparent in your clothing, Claire was just glad that she got to you the soonest you needed her to. 
“My baby–” was the first thing you told her as you tried speaking in between sobs. 
You looked at her, tears running down your cheeks, once she had approached you. 
“It’s alright. I got you. I got you.” she repeatedly told you. 
Her eyes fell onto where your hand was. Truth be told, she has never been this scared in her life. It was crazy how she simultaneously knew and didn’t know what to do. It was you. Your safety and the life of the child you’ve yet to birth, placed unexpectedly in her hands. Despite all that, she was certain that she’s not about to lose anyone. Neither you nor your baby. 
“Please don’t pass out.” she murmured more to herself as she held your face. “Stay with me, alright? You guys are gonna be okay. You’ll be okay.”
Claire stayed true to her word and took care of you. You were settled in a private room, resting. It was evident that all the emotional and physical turmoil you’ve been trying to suppress has finally caught on and got the better hold of you. Scarily so, despite the night’s ordeal, you were now safe. You and the baby. 
You were asleep when Claire left you in your hospital room. She still has a few of your documents that needed sorting out. Well, that and having to deal with the man – with both of his hands placed on his waist, pacing – waiting for her at the end of the lobby. 
“How is she?” Sidney asks Claire the moment he was within hearing distance. 
She ignores him. Instead, she goes inside the waiting room and acknowledges the presence of Catherine alongside Kris and Evgeni. 
“How is she?” Catherine shoots the same question. 
Claire initially answers with a nod then proceeds, “She’s going to be fine. We just need to let her get some rest.” 
Cath nods as well as the others. 
“And the baby?” 
Claire doesn’t give a definite answer. 
“We’re still waiting for several results.” 
“W-Why?” Sidney jumps in the conversation. “Did something happen to the baby?” 
Unfortunately, as much as Claire wanted to hit Sidney’s face, she couldn’t. She wasn’t in the hospital just because she’s your friend. Simply put, duty calls. And right now, Sidney demands her of it. 
“I am not at liberty to disclose anything at the moment, but I assure you, we are doing the best we can.” she tells Sidney despite not meeting his eyes. 
“Will you at least let me see her?” He pleads.
“I don’t think so.” she states firmly.
“What– Why?” Sidney asks quite defensively. “I am her emergency contact person!”
“No, you are not.” she informs him. “You cannot see her files because you are no longer her emergency contact person. I am now. You are neither her next of kin nor are you married. And if you are present as any partner should have, you would know.” 
Sidney scoffs, “That’s bullshit.”
“You are not my patient, Sid. I am in no way responsible for disclosing information Y/N clearly doesn’t want to share with you.”
“You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?” Sidney complains.
“I have nothing to say to you.” Claire tells him. 
“I can’t believe how unprofessional you can be!” Sidney exclaims when Claire continues to ignore his requests. 
“No,” She looks at him for a moment, gets back to reading your form on her clipboard, and meets Sid’s eyes once again. “It’s the consequences.” 
“You’re unbelievable.” 
The Letangs come in between the two to mitigate the tension, “We’ll just wait for as long as we need to.”
“Why? What’s the plan, Sid? Huh? Isn’t this what you wanted? To spend your years like Jagr?”
“Don’t you fucking go there.” He warns.
Even more appalled by Sidney’s reaction, Claire grins and shrugs shamelessly before walking away.
“I think I just did.”
𖥸
Sidney did not exactly know how he did it and how fast he had done it, but as soon as Claire had her hands full, he went straight to grab the brass metal of the door knob leading to your room. 
Quietly, as he spared one last glance of his surroundings, he turns it and opens the door. 
It was perhaps a good thing that your bed was not adjacent to the doorway. Sidney could not fully comprehend the things wrecking his brain all at once. Although he knew of one thing: he finally gets to see you. 
It was indeed a good thing that your bed was not adjacent to the doorway. Your mind drifts right off the tip of your finger as you look outside your window. The fog was so even and misty that it made the entire window a blur. The only thing you could see were the steady white lights of that huge corner block building fashioned by the noise of cars driving off to a better place than the four corners of your hospital bedroom. 
Judging by the scenery, you could tell that it was well past midnight. 
As you lie with your still aching heart, you find yourself grazing your stomach ever so gently as if you were holding something– someone, much more meaningful than your entire being. 
If only he was– 
“Hey.” 
He is. 
Sidney had both of his hands resting on his side alienated by the thick air he usually causes. It was a battle as to whether to go near you or stay still. But judging by the way you looked at him so strangely, he knew he didn’t have any other choice. 
You watch him inch himself closer until he is already at the foot of the bed. He looked unusually small for a man of his stature. Your eyes did not miss a thing. You saw the hesitant look he had coupled with the urgency that is perhaps all too late to be paraded before your eyes. 
Despite noticing all that, in Sidney’s eyes, you did nothing but look. He was scared not because it made him uneasy. He was scared because you have never looked at him that way. 
There are so many things to be said but Sidney was at a loss for words. He wanted to ask how you were; how the baby was. He wanted to say how sorry he felt for leaving and how dumb it was to let you suffer when he could’ve been there like he should have. He wanted to let you know how badly he prays and hopes that you’ll find it in yourself to forgive him. But mostly, he just really wished that you’d still want to make it work and build that family – with him. 
How could he say all that when it feels like you were miles away beyond his reach despite him already holding your hand? 
Finally, as though the words have only occurred to him, he asks, “How are you?” 
He looks back at you as intently as he thought you did. However, your eyes mirrored his, unwillingly. Sidney takes the empty seat beside your bed; never letting go of his hold on you. 
Soon enough, you look away and aim your attention onto his hands. Both of his palms embraced your hand oh so desperately, pleading a prayer only he could hear. 
“I’m sorry.” he says, eyes now misty with tears. “It’s all my fault. I should’ve been with you. I’m sorry. I was selfish. Please please forgive me.” he adds, pressing wet and much more desperate kisses on your hand. 
He waited for you to say something in return but he received nothing. You looked at him exactly the way you did when he arrived; sparing him a blink or two whenever your eyes got tired.
It was the kind of silence Sidney wasn’t accustomed to. It was the kind of silence he never knew. 
Until now. Until you.
His voice breaks when he decides to speak yet again. 
“Please say something.” he desperately asks. 
But you don’t. 
You just lie in the same cold bed, letting him hold your hand. 
Afraid of what has become you, Sidney masks his fear with a wide smile albeit it didn’t do any better. It just made him feel worse. Maybe even a thousand times more than he’s already had. 
“Mon amour…” he calls you. “Please talk to me.”
You blink and look away. 
Sorrow now filling the void he feels from within, Sidney sees your hand that was still resting atop your stomach. 
For the first time, he then dared to ask, “How… How's the baby?” 
Sidney sees you look at him yet again as if to finally acknowledge his presence in the room. 
However, the words you spoke next nearly made him wish you did not bother at all. 
“There is no baby, Sidney.”
You spit the words like vile coursing from your throat; voice hoarse from the eventful night. 
“W-What?” he stammers, evidently shocked at your uninhibited way of revealing such news. 
“There is no baby.” you repeat just as you remove your hand from his hold. 
“You may go.” you quietly add, looking away. 
Confused, off-guard, and terrified, Sidney tries to grasp the thought of the truth. 
“What do you mean there is no baby?” Sidney begins to flood you with queries. “They must have read the tests wrong. It can’t be right, can it? Claire told Cathy everything was fine! We do have a baby!” he nearly grovels trying to get a hold of you, pleading. 
“We have a baby, y/n.” He breaks. “We’re going to be a family.”
Oh you’d kill to have him say those words when you needed him to. Only he didn’t. And that is the truth you’re now choosing. 
“I need you to go, Sidney.” you respond calmly, frustrating him even more. 
“Please, y/n!” he cries. “What happened to our baby?” 
“It’s gone, alright!” you lose it just as Sidney’s world begins to crumble, “You got what you wanted!”
You blink away the tears about to break just as you say, “I need you to go because I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“No– There’s got to be another way for us. We always find a way.”
“I don’t want to do this anymore, Sidney.” you reiterate. “I don’t think we should be together.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re mad at me,” he argues. “Just be mad at me, y/n!” 
He grabs your hand and places it close to his cheek. You can feel the tears on his skin and his desperate cry to escape the inevitable. 
You look at him with the same fondness you once had. The last he’ll ever see. 
“It’s over, Sid.” you declare. “I don’t want this– I don’t want to be with you.”
“Y/N… please,” he says. “I’m begging you.” 
“Leave, Sidney.” you reach for the red button on the side of your bed, hoping to get Claire. 
Sidney’s tears continue to fall. But you no longer care. 
“I can’t do this without you.” he says in between sobs. 
You press the red button repeatedly. You wipe your tears away wishing Claire would get to you faster. 
“Please don’t end us.” he says, knees already on the cold hospital floor; a complete mess. “Please don’t make me leave.” 
Before you can push him further away, the door to your room abruptly opens; Kris and Geno come into view. 
With a firm yet cautious voice, Geno calls him. “Sidney.” 
Kris puts an arm over Sidney’s shoulder, “Let her get some rest.”
“Y/N–” Sidney calls for you once more; bearing with him the thought of losing his son and his son’s mother. The family you wanted a little too early. The family he wanted a little too late. The painful truth that Sidney chose to carry with him for years however ugly and cruel you made it to be just so he can still make it seem real. 
If only he knew.
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series taglist: to be reblogged! [tumblr crashes a lot and won't let me post smh]
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note: woooow been a hot min! how's everyone? i hope you liked this long over-due update i'm so sorry life got in the way for a bit. anw, you know how much of a sucker i am for interaction so lmk what you think love ya! ♡
add yourself to the series taglist here. i appreciate all kinds of feedback! ♡
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musicalfilm · 1 year
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musical films leading men [pt. 1]
christopher plummer, the sound of music fred astaire, you were never lovelier danny kaye, on the riviera gene kelly, for me and my gal donald o’connor, call me madam bing crosby, here is my heart
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sagesolsticewrites · 2 months
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Heat Wave
It’s the hottest summer Iowa’s had in a while. Your husband wears shorts. It gets even hotter.
Shoutout to Winnie (@winniemaywebber) for making yet another incredible playlist for this fic!
Warnings: mature content (dom/sub dynamics (sub!Harry, dom!Mrs.Crosby (you’re Jean, bc of course who else would you be?)), thigh riding, thigh biting 👀, teasing, praise kink, orgasm denial, this whole thing is roleplay “punishing” Harry for sleeping with Sandra), swearing, mentions of cheating (but not really bc there was a war on come on y’all; Mrs. Crosby in this fic has canonically forgiven him for it, this is just a way for them to have some fun), definitely some historical inaccuracies in here, and ofc including a whole separate warning for Anthony Boyle’s thighs <3 (this is an 18+ fic!! minors begone!!)
Word count: 1.5k
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.
Masterlist
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It was June 1946, and it was the hottest summer in Iowa since the war had started.
You and Harry had opened all the windows in the house, hoping to let in some semblance of a breeze, but the air remained stagnant and stifling. You had resorted to foregoing a dress entirely, wearing the thinnest slip you had and simply praying that no one came to call on the two of you in your little house in the middle of nowhere, while your Bing had stripped down to just a pair of shorts and his undershirt, the glass of iced tea in his hand dripping condensation onto his bare thigh.
You can’t help but track the drop as it follows a path down the inside of your husband’s thigh to seep into the fabric of the worn armchair he’s currently collapsed in with his legs spread wide; the heat outside matching the building heat in your core as you take in his underdressed state.
He catches you staring with a knowing glint in his eye, setting his drink aside on the coffee table.
“Something I can help you with, Mrs. Crosby?”
Normally you would play coy, but something about the oppressive heat and the way your husband is sprawled out in that chair makes you want to try a different tactic.
“As a matter of fact there is, my darling Bing,” you purr, slinking over to his chair.
He eagerly leans up for a kiss, but you swerve, brushing gentle kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, his jaw… everywhere but his lips, where he really wants you.
Understanding dawns on his face, and his eyes fill with heat as he realizes it’s going to be one of those days.
“Honey, please,” he whines softly, a gasp escaping him as you trace up the inside of his thigh with one neatly manicured nail.
His hips buck up towards your hand, but you pull away quickly.
“Uh-uh,” you scold softly, tilting his chin up with two fingers so his eyes meet yours, “Not yet, sweetheart.”
He nods obediently, pretty brown eyes wholly enraptured by you.
“Good boy,” you murmur, brushing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before moving to kneel between his legs.
A soft whimper escapes your husband at the molten look you shoot him as you brush featherlight kisses up the inside of each of his thighs, his hands clenching around the armrests as he resists the urge to forcibly put you where he wants you.
You hear his breath catch as your mouth reaches the spot where his thigh and hip meet, still covered by his shorts, followed shortly by a desperate whine as your lips trace the same path back down his leg.
“No, sweetheart,” you murmur, punctuating it with a nip to the flesh of his thigh, “You were very bad when you were gone, remember?”
Your nails grazing lightly down his other thigh prompts a soft, gasping “Yes, yes, I remember.”
You reward him with a soft kiss to where your teeth just were, continuing.
“So, you don’t get to cum until I’ve decided you’ve made it up to me, ‘kay honey?”
He nods.
“Need your words, sweetheart.” You prod gently.
“I understand,” he breathes, desperation coloring his voice.
“Good boy,” you praise, and you descend.
You gently dig your teeth into the flesh of his thigh once more, nibbling and sucking a path along both of his thighs, peppering in gentle kisses as you go.
Your toes curl, wetness pooling between your legs at the soft whimpers, moans, and gasps that your husband is making above you.
Satisfied with the series of pretty purple marks decorating his flesh, you scatter several soft kisses across his skin before you stand, letting your slip hit the floor.
Bing swears softly as he takes in the sight of you, one hand creeping towards the prominent bulge at the apex of his thighs.
You raise a stern eyebrow, leaning over to tap his hand once.
“No touching,” you scold softly as he jerks his hand back to grip the armrest, looking up at you with pleading eyes.
“‘M sorry, honey, I just… you’re so pretty…”
“Being sweet to me won’t make me go easier on you, my love,” you murmur, though part of you melts at the compliment.
Your husband lets out a soft groan of “oh, Christ,” as you shed your panties and move to straddle his leg, slowly sinking down onto his broad quadricep.
You pull his face towards you, two fingers under his chin, to breathe against his lips.
“Remember,” you say, taking in his pretty eyes, pupils blown wide as you slowly rock back and forth on his leg, “You don’t get to cum until I say so.”
He nods frantically, a strangled “Yes” his only response as you begin to grind against him in earnest.
You can’t quite bring yourself to stifle your moans at the feeling of your core gliding along Harry’s bare thigh, and your husband’s already darkened eyes turn almost black at the sound.
“F-fuck, honey, you feel so good,” you gasp against his lips, praise tumbling from your lips as tension builds just below your belly, “Being so good for me, letting me use you like this—”
Your husband lets out a strangled moan, knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping the chair.
“Honey… Honey, please let me cum,” he whines after several minutes of your agonizing teasing, his breath hot on your mouth, “Haven’t I been good? I don’t—” he cuts off with a pleading groan as your nails rake down his back, your pace increasing.
“Fuck, I don’t know if I can last much longer, honey, please.” 
One of your hands comes up to grip his hair at the roots, dark curls deliciously soft under your fingers. You murmur against his lips as he lets out a soft hiss, “Make me cum first, baby, and then I might let you.”
 He moans into your mouth, flexing his thigh against you and causing you to gasp at the new angle.
“Oh, Christ, just like that, honey,” you groan, grinding desperately against him, a stuttering moan escaping you as you stammer “I’m— ‘m gonna—”
You muffle your cry in his neck as you reach your peak, grinding slowly against him as you ride out your climax.
Harry whimpers in your ear as your leg brushes his bulge.
“Sweetheart— please, can I—?”
“Yes, honey,” you say, pulling him into you for a heated, open-mouthed kiss as your hand dives into his shorts to wrap around his length, “Did so, so good for me, you can let go now, baby”
It only takes a few pumps, your hand slick with the precum leaking from his tip, before he’s spilling into your hand with a cry.
The two of you catch your breath, foreheads pressed together.
“Wow, sweetheart,” Harry says, huffing out a laugh.
You giggle, pulling him in for a kiss that you can’t help smiling into.
“It wasn’t too much, right?” You ask, pulling away to scan his face for any hint of unease.
“Not at all, honey,” your husband assures you with a sweet kiss to your forehead, reaching to pass you a rag sitting on the table so you can clean your hand off.
You stand, sliding your slip back on before settling in next to him, one arm wrapping around your shoulders and tucking you in close.
“So,” Harry says, a cheeky grin lighting up his face, “Have I made up for it yet, my love?”
You pretend to think for a moment, a smirk on your face as you reply.
“For now, honey. For now.”
A quiet moment passes, and you turn to press your lips to his shoulder in a gentle kiss.
“You know I’m not really upset about what happened when you were gone,” you say softly, fingers tangling with his, “right, honey? I know things were tough, things were… unspeakably bad, and you were doing what you had to do to stay sane so you could get through it and come back to me.”
Your husband lets out a soft sigh, squeezing your fingers with a smile at the reassurance that’s become routine after moments like these.
“I know, sweetheart. I—” His voice goes soft, gratitude seeping into every word as he traces your jaw with his fingertips, eyes tracing over your features as if he still can’t believe you’re real, “I thought about you every day when I was over there. I missed you so, so much.”
You lean into his touch. In the months he’s been home, you still haven’t been able to get enough of him being here, being able to touch you, and you in turn being able to touch him. 
“I love you.”
“I love you too, angel.”
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thatsrightice · 1 month
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“He was the most optimistic person I have ever known. He just thought things were gonna work out. And he didn’t have a particularly easy life… he just had this incredible optimism. In fact, as an older man I took him I took him to visit some of his World War II friends, Charlie Cruikshank, “Crankshaft” … and there was another guy, Danny, one of his World War II friends … and I asked that guy was he always this positive? Was he always this optimistic? Even way back during the war? And Danny said ‘Yeah, it used to drive us crazy’.”
— Rebecca Hutchinson, youngest daughter of Harry Crosby, during an interview with the Indie Magazine Podcast
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girlfriendline · 1 year
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"you guys are leading the league right now in fighting majors...."
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simmyfrobby · 5 months
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poem about growing old(er 🙄) with someone... vii by wendell berry..... so sidgeno to me if im honest
There is no science for this, or art either.
Even the old body is new—who has known it
before?—and no sooner new than gone, to be
replaced by a body yet older and again new.
The clouds are rarely absent from our sky
over this humid valley, and there is a sycamore
that I watch as, growing on the riverbank,
it forecloses the horizon, like the years
of an old man. And you, who are as old
almost as I am, I love as I loved you
young, except that, old, I am astonished
at such a possibility, and am duly grateful.
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tangerisms · 24 days
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🥹🥹🥹
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pemguims · 6 days
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:3 !!!
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ghostedgary · 6 months
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Ghost doodle even though I don't him very much <3
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croszukis · 2 months
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nick’s 20th goal of the season??
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barzzal · 2 years
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call me crosby → part five
summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.
pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: angst, fluff (YES), language, harsh arguments, swearing  genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 10.8k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist track: just hit up the track on the series masterlist
note: LONG WAIT IS OVERRR. seriously, nothing but love for yall for understanding the slow update. i tried not closing in on a one year hiatus but i failed mb! immaculate patience i gotta say. love u all sm and i hope you are still here to see this update and enjoy it. happy reading! <3 (gif used: mine)
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disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.
Apart from all the things that concerned hockey, Summer was one of the luxuries Sidney has allowed himself in terms of living his days off the ice. Flying back to Nova Scotia is something he’s looked forward to the most each time the season ends for the Pittsburgh Penguins. Although now, instead of him spending days on end playing golf, or quiet mornings fishing by the lake back home, sipping coffee till it runs cold, the captain stayed in Pittsburgh just so he could stay on the ice a little bit more. 
Only this time, to spend it with no one else but his son. 
“Dad, come on now!” the boy of nine years whined. 
“You’re hogging the puck!” he adds.
Sidney hears Alex chirp his father as he watches the two of them warm up on the rink. Kris, apart from being one hell of a goofy teammate, could definitely pass as the same age as his son. 
“I’m hogging no pucks, young man. You’re giving it away too much!” Kris snickers with too much pride. 
The days that came following Sidney’s outburst and your incapacity to actually let him into your life were awkward, to say the least. It was as if you and Sidney were back to square one. Goodness— not that you ever made progress in doing so but, it is what it is, as the kids today say. 
You were both stuck on an endless loop, swaying back and forth, waiting; always testing the waters. Unsure of what the future really holds for the two of you. Nevertheless, it was a loop that you needed to break away from. Until then, Sidney’s determined to put your issues aside and focus on the most important person in his life. 
“Hey, big man.” he calls to him, taking his attention off of Alex, his newfound playmate. 
“Yes?” Luke absently answers, staring at his own version of a thin and endless void. Thinking about what goes on in the mind of a five-year-old. Why can't he have candies before dinner?
“Ready to get into some cooler pads?” 
The child looks up at him, curiosity inkling from within. 
“But, I’m already wearing mine… and they’re already cool.” he declares, small hands traveling down his jersey and onto his shin pads to further stress on his point. 
“Yeah, I know.” his father shrugs, his eyes painted with a soft glint as he looks at him. “Though, I think I have something else you’d like to try on.”
“Really? What is it?” The boy inquires. 
“Come. I’ll show you.” He maintains his warm smile just as he offers his hand for him to hold. 
Luke, without much hesitation, takes Sidney’s hand and begins treading alongside his father’s footsteps as they head back to the dressing room. 
Sidney pushes the locker room door with ease. Across the room awaits a new set of fresh goalie equipment.
Like any child would, ‘Woah!’ was what managed to escape Luke’s mouth the moment his eyes met something new and flashy.
With his little voice, he inquires, “What is that?”
Sidney gently places a hand on the back of his child, encouraging him to move forward. 
“It’s a goalie gear.” he simply answers, going down on one knee so he could level with him.
“Wow.” he breathes out, voice evidently caught in awe at the sight of something definitely massive for a boy his size. 
“This is a goalie gear?” Luke absently repeats in query as he takes his time examining the gear from head to toe. 
It wasn’t his first time, per se, given the glimpses he’s had whenever Sidney took him out the rink but the boy is yet to appreciate, to really reel it in into his system, that he was in fact, trying on his very first goalie equipment for the very first time.
To say that Sidney had a hard time dialing down the design of his only son’s goalie equipment would be an understatement. The gear didn’t miss the black and gold prints, like the one fashioning Tristan’s and Marc-Andre’s from when he was still a Penguin. Still, regardless of it resembling the team’s famed colors, Luke’s gear was modest and subtle — clearly made in a way to make an impression but not so much as to overwhelm and drown out the innocence of a child. 
“Well… yeah,” Sidney tread slowly, ruffling the boy’s hair. “It’s yours, buddy.” 
Expecting that he’d be as pumped as the other kids over some fresh gear, Sidney takes a while when all that Luke did was to turn his gaze back onto him, knitting in mind yet another simple query. 
“Mine? Why?” he asks, voice registering in a higher tone laced in a child-like curiosity.
“Uh,” Sidney puffs air off his mouth, thinking of a better answer than the actuality of a father just wanting to spoil his son. The subtlety is appalling. If only you had known.
“I just thought you’d want something extra protective to wear since we’re going to hit the net today.” 
The little boy tilts his head. Unabashed. 
“Am I gonna fit into it?” he asks, mouth curled into a pout, not really buying any of what the man is telling him. He looks down on his fragile figure as if to show Sidney that they’ve got a lot to work on with.
Sidney fails and chuckles.
“Do you wanna try? I actually got one too.” He forfeits and uses one of the big guns. He knows that it would certainly have to take a lot for a kid to fully immerse himself out there. So, what more of a perfect time for Sidney to show that he could also be that kind of guy every now and then? Perhaps, maybe even more. Maybe even always.
Amused, and frankly, ecstatic to be hearing that he isn’t the only one getting into something new, Luke glances up to his father, mirroring his round and hopeful eyes.
“Really?” he cheers.
Sidney nods, letting his gaze flicker onto the much bigger equipment bag situated not too far from his son’s. He lifts the bag with ease and places it in front of the two of them in order for Luke to get a peek at what’s inside the huge black duffel bag. 
“Alright,” he breathes out after successfully fishing out the goalie gear he has only been seen wearing once to technically – never.
“I’ll show you how to get into it, okay?” he explains, little by little.
“Mkay!” Luke nods and the captain takes it as his cue to continue. 
Gear after gear, Sidney showed his son the ropes of suiting up as a goaltender. He’s got to admit, hearing the boy’s interest on goaltending has given his gear tucked away in his basement a new purpose; better than spending summers acing field matches with his sister, Taylor. Even if he wanted his son to pursue other things that he could call his own, Sidney’s thrilled to be given a chance to spend whatever time he has with his child in the very same place he finds serenity in. 
Once they are strapped and secured in their respective goaltender equipment, pads and personalized helmet included, looking chunkier than usual, Sidney stands in his skates and holds Luke’s hand as he helps him stand on his own. 
“Uh… Sidney? Uh-oh! Heavy!” Luke’s voice rises the moment Sidney lets go of his arms. He falls on his knees and lets out a grunt. Worried sick to his stomach, Sidney rushes to lift his son up to make sure that the weight of the entire equipment wouldn’t withstand him. 
“I fell!” Luke giggles as he lets himself fall on his behind. “Did you see me?” 
The child continues to laugh giddily, showing him how the pads he was wearing caught him on the fall. 
“I was like – woah! And then, I thought I was gonna get hurt, but these are really squishy on my butt!”
Sidney watched his son describe the little moment enthusiastically but if you were to ask, all he could think of was to breathe. And that exactly was the first thing he did. Breathe. Just breathe.
For the entire time you’ve managed to let him be alone with his son, Sidney is yet to do the real-dad-stuff he has only been daydreaming of for he who only knows how long. Even if it meant having to walk around eggshells just to stay within your mercy, he would. He’s not about to let his chances get blown just because he screwed up the one thing a real father should already know. And that is to never put his child in harm’s way.
Well, apart from all the close calls – and the still fairly upbeat kid standing in front of him quite cheerfully, it’s safe to say that Sidney hasn’t screwed up that one bit.
“Not gonna lie, you scared me.” The two boys laugh. Sidney crouches down, and double checks every check mark he’s already gone through twice the first time – for his own peace of mind.
“You ready to show these off?” he asks Lucas who was now making little twirls with his taped goalie stick.
“Yup! I want to show the guys!” Luke makes an enthusiastic hop and begins to lead the way back.
A quiet smile spreads along the lines of the captain’s lips – a smile reserved only to himself.
The guys.
𖥸 
Notably, there were quite a handful of friendly faces by the time the father and son had exited the locker room. It seemed like it was a busy day around the barn. 
Apart from the Penguins’ Big Three and their own mini-Me’s, the arena was a little more crowded than usual despite its exclusivity. There were a few more people walking around. Some were fixing stuff, some were loading equipment out by the back door, and some were just walking – driving mini-Zambonis from one end of the barn onto the other.
Sure, Sidney was caught a bit off-guard given the fact that he was holding hands with a boy that would highly be mistaken for who he was exactly, but his and Luke’s presence around the barn have been sort of an ‘open secret’ exclusive to those that Sidney trusts most in the area. 
Nevertheless, even if he felt a wee bit uneasy, he didn’t mind given the strings he had managed to pull personally just to safeguard his son’s own safety and security. He wasn’t going to let some random commotion ruin the day he had planned alongside his best buds and their own sons.
“What’s up, Joe?” he still finds the need to check, walking in his skates freely just like how he often walks around PPG Paints – except barefooted. He had his goalie glove tucked underneath his arms as he held Luke near his side, who was silently observing the small chat that was beginning to unfold right before him.
Joe, the man who was approximately ten years older than the captain, shrugs as he holds his fresh cup of coffee. Evidently in awe of seeing the captain in a different suit. Seeing the child holding Sidney’s hand, quietly observing, he doesn’t mention it.
He looked like every other average white man. The kind that every dad trusts and knows practically everything happening within the halls of the arena.
“Not much, kid. Just a bit hectic today. That’s all.” Joe tells him. He looks over his shoulder, eyes following Sidney’s line of sight.
“Who are those people?” Sidney asks.
Joe tutts to himself, absently scratching his nose as he tries to recognize who was leading the fresh group that just came in the building. They weren’t too many to cause a commotion but they were certainly enough to be noticed by Sidney.
“I’m a little short on that bit, capt’n. D’ya want me to check?” 
Knowing that Sid isn’t the type of guy to take too much of somebody’s time, he politely shakes his head and smiles, declining Joe’s offer. 
Sidney looks over his shoulder just as he turns away, paying one last glance onto the small group waiting by the door. 
“Ready?” 
He asks the little boy looking up at him with his ever doe eyes. 
“Yup!” 
𖥸 
Things were changing fast. 
Like the kind where you oversleep during the day and end up missing your train, the kind where you accidentally run into someone as you treat yourself for a nice cup of coffee or the fact that you’re now waking up on a Saturday just so you could meet your former girlfriends and get a quick breakfast run before you could all go and meet everyone’s husbands and sons skating their butts off for hockey. 
It didn’t take much for you to notice it really. One thing is for sure, things are beginning to slip through your fingers and the only thing you could do is to watch. 
Your life with your son wasn’t really surrounded by a lot of people. It was just you, your folks, and Claire for the most of it. Even with Cath knowing, she still made sure to keep distance. You didn’t mind because it was what you had to do in order to make sure that your son was going to be safe and away from all the chaos that embraced your life then with his father. You were happy and content in your guarded little life and so was your precious little Lucas. 
However, now, as you stand by the gates with Anna and Catherine, cheering on – waiving back and forth as you watch your own boys, you can’t help but admit that maybe… a part of you, the one that you thought you’ve already buried, was still alive. Somewhere six feet under. Perhaps, you just have to look further.
”Oh! Oh! Nikita! Oh my goodness!” you nearly hop on your toes as you witness Anna’s son speed right past Kris. You give your old friend a playful nudge, one that was reciprocated by her ever tantalizing smirk. It’s crazy how much you’ve forgotten about being in this exact environment. It almost feels like you never really left.
“Isn’t he wonderful?” Anna says with pride as the three of you share a series of cheers and applause. You watch over your young ones interact with each other almost as if they’ve known one another since the moment they were born.
“He’s incredible.” Catherine agrees, amused as she watches her own child grace the ice. 
Absently, she whispers to herself not realizing that you’d hear, “Too bad he won’t be wearing 87 now.”
An interest to ask what she meant by the statement sparks in you. 
“What do you mean?” you ask. 
“Oh!” she sputters, laughing shyly. “Alex went on an interview with Kris for the All-Star Games last year and he was asked which number he’s going to use if he were to play.” 
“And he said 87?” 
Cath nods, “He adores Sidney a lot.” 
You agree. Definitely. Even when you were with Sidney and Alex was as little as you could remember, the bond Alex shared with Sidney came off naturally, maybe in much more ways than the one Sid shares with his father. 
You finally cave and ask, “Why wouldn’t he wear Sid’s number?”
Cath gives you a side eye and breaks a teasing grin. 
“Who else should wear the captain’s number but the captain’s son?” 
Immediately catching on to the rising topic at hand, given that neither will let you off the hook now that you’re back in their lives, Anna raises an interesting point. 
“Speaking of the captain’s son, have you thought about my suggestion?” 
It was around the time Anna was handing back your purse as you and Sidney were about to leave Nikita’s birthday party. Originally, she was just toying with the idea of you and your Ex going out for a friendly dinner; entirely owed for old time’s sake. A suggestion that you gracefully declined. Obviously. 
However, just like Anna said, Sidney knowing about his son’s existence will affect the poor child involved more than it will affect the both of you. So, given how stubborn you and Sidney were before everyone’s eyes but your own, the truth that you kept denying will continue to haunt you and your little boy. 
Perhaps, going easy on the poor undeserving man that is, Sidney Crosby, would really be the rational step in determining the course of your new co-parenting setup. 
“Yes.” you finally answer. 
Anna and Cath expectantly speak in unison, exactly like they used to. 
“And?” 
For a moment, your gaze falls onto the end of the rink. 
There he was, teaching your child the only game he’s ever loved just like you’ve always dreamt of. 
Seeing your son with his father brings you back to when all of it was just a mere dream; a wishful thinking — an image that felt so surreal. The very image that you’ve wrapped around your head as you held that pregnancy test the night you found out about being pregnant with Luke. 
And while it also happens to be the same image Sidney willfully scratched and threw the second he got the chance, you manage to give him a tight-lipped smile as you both meet each other’s eyes. 
Sidney gives you a nod and smiles modestly. 
You do not feel the need to break the shared gaze yet and instead let out the words you have been holding back since you left for the rink. 
“I think I’m going to give it a try.”
𖥸 
The arena was nearly emptied by the time the boys got through with their practice. 
It was a surprise for you to see a handful of people walking around the vicinity upon arriving with Anna and Cath. You need not think much of it, though. After all, you take that Sidney’s not a stupid man to give you any more reason as to why you should take his son away from him for good.
“We’ll meet you out front.” were the last words Sidney gave you as he held Luke's hand. 
All you gave in return was a nod. 
Ever since the two of you reconnected, you have consistently remained remote and distant before Sidney’s eyes. He’s foreign to you now and he knows that despite it being hard, it’s the one and only pill he’s got to swallow just so he could have more of the less you are willing to spare. 
You met his gaze with uncertainty. One that made your palms sweat and cold simultaneously. The kind that you want to shake off after a day spent in the cold of winter. 
Sid wanted to ask you if something was wrong. If something was bothering you. He wanted to know because he felt it. But what can he do with this fragile, and frankly, already broken beyond repair dysfunctional dynamic of yours? 
You’re closed off for a reason. 
And he’s not about to rub his face in it like a madman. 
Devoid of what it really was that is going on in your mind, he chooses to move along.
You find yourself pacing around the parking lot as you wait for Sidney and your son. You’ve never felt this anxious in years. Fidgeting with your fingers. Fighting the urge to nibble on your nails as if you were some teen who’s about to go on their very first date. Stressing on the fact that yours and Sid’s is far from being an actual one, the thought of you asking him out makes your guts churn. And you know enough that it’s not the kind that will make you sick. 
Despite how you project your feelings articulately, you know in yourself that you were not entirely repulsed by Cath and Anna’s proposition. You wanted to see what’s more to him now beyond being the father of your son. 
Deep down you were curious as to whether he was still the man you once knew. The man who was so sure of himself, whose every move is calculated in pursuit of delivering what’s expected. Deep down you wanted to know if he was still as ugly, as flawed, and as insecure. Deep down you wanted to know if he was still a great pretender. And perhaps, deep down, you wanted to know if he was still the man whom you once loved regardless of all that ugliness.
“Mom!” 
Your son pulls you out of your trance. You see him walk hand in hand with Sidney. Luke was carrying his Little Penguins bag whilst Sidney had his equipment bag slung over his shoulder. Luke meets you with a warm and graceful smile, lighting up his face like it always had. Sidney, however, gives you a tight lipped smile. 
“Hey, you.” you greet your son as you ruffle his wild hair. 
“Did we make you wait long?” he asks, a thing that you quickly decline. 
You take Luke’s bag and open the door so he could climb onto his seat. 
“He did very well today.” Sidney says with a proud smile. Dignified to be having a son that is as amazing as the kid you were currently strapping in his car seat. 
Absently, you turn to Sidney with a grin, “He was amazing back there!” 
It was quiet for a moment once your glances met. You were both unsure of what to do next being that it was the first time that the two of you shared a juncture that wasn’t forced nor made for the benefit of a child.
You notice him trying to stifle the giddy look on his face. He looks down, pressing his lips together, before setting his eyes back at you. 
“He really is.” he states.
As he held the door open, putting you in between his towering figure and your son, you scratch on your eyebrow lightly — suppressing the fact that the look on his face evidently still had an effect on you. 
“Hey, uh,” you struggle, but manage to hide it. You tear your eyes away from him for a moment as you continue. “I know things between us have been pretty rough and I- well, Cath and Anna kind of suggested that we… you know,” 
Pull it together. You think, hesitating if this was a good idea.
Finally, you look at him, surprised to see an expecting gaze. You take it as a sign to continue. 
“That it’d be good for us to spend some time together. For Luke’s sake.” 
Breath caught in his throat, Sidney tries to calm himself. 
“Alright,” he says, already failing to contain his glee. “How about dinner at that little Italian place you like?” 
You try to choke a smile at how he still remembers. You press your lips just as you say, “Okay.”
“I’ll pick you up at home?”
You give him a nod. “I’ll arrange a sleepover for Luke.” 
𖥸 
As you head home, Luke takes upon the liberty to a simple request. He asks if the two of you could stop by the diner to have lunch instead of eating at home. Surely, you’d take the time to get your well-deserved Mom and Son date as often as you could. You quickly re-route, driving away the direction towards home. 
Like always, it didn’t take long for your food to arrive. You sat on your usual seat. The corner booth next to a floor to ceiling window overlooking the quaint little corner of the neighborhood. 
You ordered your usual. Your son, on the other hand, has gotten a liking of Mckinnon’s chicken and spaghetti combination. A thing that was, of course, introduced by his father. The diner did not have it on their menu so you had to make separate orders. Either way, you’re certain that there’ll be left-overs. And your son would just probably ask for it once more come dinner time. 
“How is it?” you ask as you watch him get through with his first bite. 
“Good.” he swallows and continues, “But not as good as the one Sid makes.”
Intrigued, you raise a brow and ask why.
“He lets me add sugar in it.” he casually answers, swirling the fork on his plate to get another bite.
Sugar, huh? That’s Lucas. But Sidney? Not so much. You know how easy Sidney is weirded by anything outside of the status quo. You ask your son another question. 
“Really? What did he think about it?” 
This is one of the times where you get to learn how he really treats your son. You make it a point to observe how Sidney acts with Luke when you’re around, yes. But this? The conversations you try to have with him and how Sidney is through the lenses of your five-year-old boy is what you will always be after. 
You have been letting Luke spend time with his father with Kris, Geno, and their own sons. It was not much of a contest to know when and where he got this “new” thing from. 
“Mm.” Luke nods with a mouthful of pasta. “He said it’s interesting. That it is ‘very me.’” 
Filled with content, you settle with giving him a soft smile. You reach for his cheeks to wipe some marinara stain off his face. 
Suddenly, almost as if to catch you off guard, Luke blurts out a question.
“Do you like Sidney?” 
It was the first time he’s ever asked that question. Or even something that concerned Sidney in particular. 
The subject of Sidney, Kris’ hockey-instructor friend, has never been brought up by him on the table. You’ve always been the one to ask him questions just to make sure that he was having a good time. And that he was safe; that Sidney was keeping his word. 
You try to think of an answer. One that didn’t take long enough for him to ask you another time. 
“Yep. He’s good at hockey.” you answer. 
“What about you? Do you like Sidney?” 
You throw the question back subtly. Which was then met by your unsuspecting child’s enthusiastic nods. 
“I do! He’s pretty awesome.” he tells you with quite a proud grin printed on his face. He adds, “He’s like Kris… but way cooler.” 
You chuckle, finding a breath of fresh air at his innocence. 
“What do you think about having him around more often now?” 
Devoid of the pivotal query, Luke tells you, “It’s alright. As long as I still get to eat here with you.” 
You feel your chest warm. Despite being overwhelmed countless times, your son just has a way with you; muted yet loud all at the same time. 
“Whom do you like more? Mom or Sidney?” 
You try to butter yourself up once more. Now you’re just playing favorites. The ‘I get to be the Mom’ card at best. 
Without a doubt and a second spared, you see his face lit up.
As suspected, he speaks your name softly with his head tilted adorably.
 “Mommy.”
“I love that.” you lightly pinch his cheek. 
“I like having lunch with you,” he says. 
“Is that so?” 
“Uh-huh.” Luke settles his drumstick down and answers simply, “I like it when it’s just you and me.” 
𖥸 
With his hair fashioned neatly with pomade and dressed a little more grand than he does on game days, Sidney takes a deep breath, both hands clasped just enough not to choke the life out of the bouquet of white lilies he’s holding as he stands on your doorstep. 
He was certain that he was almost cool by the time he left his home. But no matter how much he tries to ignore it, he just couldn’t ignore how he feels when a situation involves you. 
You both agreed to meet at 7. You proposed meeting him at the restaurant but that was a proposition he respectfully declined. He insisted on picking you up at your house. He has always been gentlemanly whenever he took you out on date nights before so it wasn’t entirely foreign. Not that you’re thinking this particular night was one. 
He checks himself one last time, balling his hand into a fist. He knocks on your door almost an hour before the agreed time. 
You, on the other hand, were dressed and ready to leave. Your body is embraced by a sage green dress. You’re wearing heels that were considerably impractical for this particular outing but were still fairly manageable. You’ve gone through all your rituals of dressing up and the only thing you’re yet to do is to open that door. 
If only you didn’t get that stupid work call. 
You have been stuck in front of your desk trying to figure out how your colleague managed to mess up one of the most crucial cases your team is currently handling. Basically, for lack of a better way to put it, you have been plastering band-aids in an effort to mitigate more potential losses for almost a full hour. 
You hurry downstairs when you hear the doorbell ring a second time. You knew it was Sidney given that you weren’t really expecting anyone but him. It just so happens that the first ring wasn’t enough for you to take your hands off the computer. 
You found Sidney, pretty much like a statue, in the same stance as he was when he arrived minutes ago. He was wearing a clean white button-down shirt underneath a black suit. Pretty traditional. Very Sidney.
You see him with the same quiet smile he has since learned from the first time you agreed to meet with him. It was something you didn’t really pay attention to in the past. But right now, you’ve got to admit that it is slowly growing on you. 
“Hi.” you say at once. 
Awkward laughter soon envelops the two of you. And no, it wasn’t the kind you see in movies. It wasn’t the kind that will make you try to suppress a smile or ignore the knowing tingle creeping down your spine. It was neither the kind that made you feel a sudden rush of heat on your nape nor the kind that made you want to stay. 
It was more of the unsettling unfamiliarity of something that you were once familiar with. The uncertainty of knowing what is already behind the door you just opened. The fact that you once knew it like the back of your hand. 
You’ve risked enough and now you’re here, putting yourself at risk yet again just by being with Sidney Crosby.
How can you be so cautious yet still be undoubtedly endangered all at the same time?
“Am I too early?” he asks, afraid to come off too strong – too desperate.
To his relief, he sees you smile, acknowledging his presence. 
“No. Not at all. Come in.”
Sidney follows you through the door, aiming towards the very small distance parting the doorway and the living room. He takes off his coat and takes your invitation to make himself comfortable. 
You weren’t sure where to start. It is the first time that the two of you will be alone completely without Luke and everyone else. And frankly, you’re both well-aware that you haven’t been together in such an enclosed space for quite a long time. You barely manage to act right when your son’s around. What made you think you’ll be able to stomach an entire night alone with the man you swore you loathe?
“Do you want anything to drink?” you ask, giving him the usual choices of coffee, tea, and water.
“Water’s just fine.” he answers politely. 
You give him an acknowledging nod as you make your way towards the kitchen. 
Sidney watches you retreat in the hallway. His eyes travel through the same spread he’d seen when he first stepped into your home. He must admit that the house exudes a different light at night time. It’s even more calming now that the only thing he hears is you. It almost feels like he is coming home. 
He clears his throat, trying to shake off the image out of his mind. 
“Where’s Luke staying by the way?”
Busy with filling your guest a glass of water, you answer, “Oh, he’s with Claire.” 
There was a sheer moment of silence. You wonder if the distance between the living room and the kitchen was enough for him to hear or that he just didn’t have anything else to say. Despite that, you choose to talk as you make your way back.
“Anyway, she’ll drop him off first thing in the morning.” you inform him. 
Sidney accepts the beverage with a nod; having no need to respond. He takes a sip and gently puts down the glass on the coffee table. He entwines his hands and looks up at you as if to wait for you to take the next course of action. It’s hard enough that the two of you are going through this night blindly. You just didn’t expect that having asked him out also meant having to sit out and fill awkward silences such as this with an appalling series of desperate small talks. 
“Are you comfortable here?” you flutter your eyes and look away. “I’m actually doing a bit of work right now. I don’t think we can go yet-” 
Sidney watches how half-hearted you were. He knows you didn’t really want him around. And if the odds of him being right are in fact aligned to break him all the more than he’s already had, he knows that you were actually wishing for him to decline instead of being stuck with him for the night. 
So, with a gaping hole in his chest, he says, “Don’t worry about me. We still have an hour before the reservation.” 
You mouth an ‘okay’ and give him a tight lipped smile before heading back to your office. 
𖥸 
Sidney watches the beads of condensation trickle down the glass just as it rests on the surface of the coaster. He looks at the time and sees that it was almost 7. There’s no way that you’ll make it in time for the reservation even if you leave now. 
He drinks what’s left of the drink you’ve given him. He looks back towards the door to your home office. He has planned to remind you of the time half an hour ago if only you weren’t on a phone call. He’s heard the conversation, not that eavesdropping was his intention, and the distance he shares with you is just enough to let him know that bothering you was not an option. 
A quiet smile creeps on his lips as he hears you manage work so elegantly. He can only imagine the stress you’re in now, but he just knows that behind that very closed door, is a woman who’s still calm, kind, and composed in spite of what’s beating her up. 
He hears your muted but still discernible commanding voice. That alone sends Sidney back to his seat, wanting to bask in what was once the normalcy of his life a bit longer. He can’t help but think of how much it really was that he’s missed over the years. Not just with Luke but with his child’s mother too.
Getting to know his son is an entirely different narrative from having to learn a person he once knew through and through. To know you from a narrow perspective he knows that you purposely let him, is just one of the many thorns he’s got to hold onto to ensure that he won’t lose you this time around. 
If he has to live with the gnawing pain and consequences of the past, then so be it. 
𖥸 
You had just gotten off the phone when you heard a knock on your door. 
Shit. Sidney. 
You look at the time. It was already past 7. You quickly collect yourself, fix your hair a bit, and head for the door. 
You greet him with a “Hi.” that comes off a little squeaky given the realization that you might have just inadvertently screwed up your night with Sidney. You hurriedly get your purse, almost pushing him out of your way. 
“I’m ready.” you say, trying to ignore the fact that you’re late and have undeniably missed the reservation. 
Sidney chuckles and looks at you amazed. With quirked brows you question, “What are you waiting for? Come on.” 
He calls your name and says, “It’s okay.”
You sigh and let go of the front door. Finally surrendering. 
“I’m sorry.” you tell him. You know you’re not going to make it. 
With a tight-lipped smile, he says, “Apology accepted.” 
“What are we gonna do? We can still catch a few walk-ins. I know a good Mexican place.” you suggest.
“It’s raining.” he informs, making you peek through the curtain. 
You shrug, trying to play it cool. “We can make a run for it.” 
Sidney laughs and shakes his head. He looks at you from head to toe and jokingly says, “In those shoes? It’s okay. Really.” 
You roll your eyes at him. 
“No, it’s not okay.” you say, letting your shoulders fall. “I’m starving.”
He thinks for a second and puts his hands in his pockets. 
“Well, do you have anything to eat around here?” 
You click your tongue. You have just gone out to do groceries so there is something you could eat. 
“I suppose we could have dinner here.” you say. “But I honestly don’t think I still have energy nor the will to cook.”
Sidney gives you quite a confident grin, rolls up both his sleeves and says, “Who said that you’re gonna?”
𖥸 
Frankly, after years apart, you’ve never thought of seeing Sidney rummaging through your fridge in search of what to cook for dinner. You’ve never imagined him moving so swiftly as if he knew where everything was and yet he is doing it exactly right before your eyes.
“Anything good?” you ask, leaning against the counter with your arms folded to your chest.
It took a while for him to answer. He takes a deep breath, finalizing all that he could get in a single run. He turns to face you with a number of things in hand. He sets it all down the kitchen island before he finally gives you an answer; one that made an idea come to mind. 
“How does pasta sound?” he asks.
It is without a doubt that you were intrigued by your son’s choice of food for lunch time. Luke has happened to talk so highly of it that it makes you want to try it for yourself. 
“Actually,” Sidney waits for you to continue. “Luke’s been talking non-stop about that Spaghetti you made him.” 
He chuckles shyly, warmth spreading throughout his chest. 
“Glad I made an impression.” he says with a deep breath, masking a grin. 
“I’m glad you two are getting along.” 
For a moment, you catch Sidney off-guard. It was as though what you’ve just told him meant a lot more than it actually did. 
“Really?” 
He needed to confirm. 
And so you did. 
“Really.” 
It had been a while since Sidney came back into your life and he knew that too. But if you thought he already was, all this time, Sidney felt like a bystander. Someone who watches from a door that’s opened three-inches for him and him alone. A glimpse, if you must, whilst all the others get to be on the other side; welcomed with open arms. 
For that while, he’s begun to accept that he’ll remain at arms length. You may have let him get to know his son, but he knew that you’ll never let him get to know you. Through time, all you’ve let him have are the pieces that were already with him. The ones you’ve worked so hard to forget; the ones that are already worn out and discarded. Tonight, for the first time, Sidney felt like he was being invited in and finally acknowledged. 
A lot is going on in his mind as he looks at you from a distance, produce in hand. He badly wants to break every wall you put up to keep him at bay but he’s fully aware that it will take so much more than just that. He caused the space that grew between the two of you. And he knew very well that it would take a lot in order to mend it. 
“Alright then. Spaghetti it is.” 
Silence is broken as Sidney tears his eyes away from you. 
And you were glad that he did. 
You clear your throat and say, “I’ll start on the salad.”
𖥸
It wasn’t long before dinner. Sidney managed to stage the dining table as if the two of you had successfully gone through with the original plan. At least, you were still having Italian. 
You let him have his way around your home and guided him where the things that he needed were placed. He lit up a few candles and even pulled the chair out for you. The only thing he let you do was to put away the flowers he’s given you and place it on the dining table. 
In comparison to when you were dating, Sidney has gotten a lot better in the kitchen. Craftier; which meant sexier too. 
As the two of you sit at the dining table, Sidney, nervous and with apparent eagerness in his eyes, watches you have your first bite of your son’s favorite meal. He knows that it’s a little sweet and is meant to be eaten by a kid, so he’s prepared for the obvious. 
He waits for a short while; still watching your inscrutable face. 
And finally, as you pull the fork away, he sees you glow with surprise; eventually drifting in bliss. 
“Oh my god.” you say. 
He straightens up on his seat, “How is it?” 
“I knew that I wasn’t supposed to like this, but it… works.” 
Sidney chuckles. “Weird, isn’t it?” 
You acknowledge him, “It is.”
“Do you want me to teach you how to make it? I can whip out a recipe for you.” 
It was kind of him to offer but you decline. He does nothing but nods, respecting your wishes yet again. Sidney begins to eat. 
Feeling that you need to rescue his now bruised ego, you shake your head, calling his attention.
“It’s just that, I think it’s good for you and Luke to have something to share alone. You know, besides hockey.” 
Oh. 
This time, lightness exudes off Sidney as he nods. “Thank you.”
He catches you smiling in acknowledgement before the two of you proceed to eat in silence. 
Sidney hasn’t been in your home for this long. Apart from the first time, your home still possessed a lot of character that evidently made an impression. 
“Are those Luke’s?” he asks, nodding his head over to a pile of drawing books neatly placed on a small table.
You follow his eyes and land onto your son’s creative corner. The one that’s meant to entertain him for when you get busy in the kitchen. You tell him that it was before eventually explaining what the corner was for. You sense by how long he’s set his eyes on it that he most likely wanted to see it. 
“Do you want to have a look?” you ask. 
He answers quickly, “May I?” 
You get out of your seat and walk towards the table. You found the most recent one he’d been using. Luke has had his fair share of drawing books ever since he’s learnt how to work up a crayon. Most of it were indistinguishable scribbles, of course, but you have loved each of it just as much as the others. 
You take it and hand it over to his father on your way back. 
“It doesn’t have much yet ‘cause it’s a new one.” you inform. 
Sidney takes it with both his hands as if to hold something priceless. 
Perhaps, in this case, he was.
You watch him start to go through it; flipping the pages carefully whilst treasuring every picture drawn by his child. 
You see him land on a page with Luke’s drawing of a soccer net on it. “Oh, that was when I was still trying to convince him to play soccer.” 
Sidney titters, “And this is him kicking the soccer ball?” 
You lean towards him, “Yes.”
Sidney traces the lines along the picture Luke’s drawn himself of. He adds one minor detail you might have forgotten he’d see. 
“Wearing skates?” he chuckles.
You let your back fall to the chair before collecting yourself. 
“Yes. I think it was his way of telling me he’s really done with soccer.” you tell him jokingly. 
Sidney is quiet; obvious that there was something else going on in his mind. You sip on your drink, watching him get through all the pages. Finally, he gently closes the book and places it next to his plate. 
“Thank you for letting him play.” he says with gratitude. 
You avoid his gaze, “I did what I thought was best for him” 
“I know,” he answers, treading lightly. 
Thank you for letting me meet my son. Sidney thought. It was what he wanted to say. He just didn’t think he’s done enough to speak of it. Instead, he settles with, “Thank you for letting me teach our son.”
“Well… don’t let me take all the credit.” you say just as you ignore the familiar feeling now resting in your gut. You speak of the truth; acknowledging it for the first time. “He needed you.”
Stunned, and perceivably rendered mute by the gravity of your statement, you take the chance and pull Sidney back. 
“Actually, there’s more of his drawings up in his room. Would you like to see?”
Sidney, who’s dangerously close to tearing up, flutters his eyes and nods. 
“Absolutely.”
𖥸
Sidney could not keep himself together once dinner was over. He still helped on cleaning up even though you insisted on doing the dishes yourself given that he was the one who prepared everything for the night. You’d almost think he’s just doing all of it to get in your good graces. But to tell you honestly, he just couldn’t contain himself. He needed to be busy. 
Having to see his son’s room also meant having the chance to see him through his mother’s eyes. And truth be told, he was looking forward to it despite being scared and horrified. To be able to see his son and the life he’s lived with you would be yet another blow he needs to endure for causing you to do it all alone. 
Luke’s blue night light was the first thing Sidney sees the moment you open the door to his bedroom. His bed was placed by a wall, lined with stuffed animals; some of which Sidney already recognizes. 
Across his bed was a bookcase with three-levels. The first two were decorated with children’s books whilst boxes of toys filled the bottom. To its side rests two bean bags Sidney assumes the two of you use for when you teach Luke how to read or for when he asks you to read him a story. 
He walks towards the bookcase the moment you invite him in. Atop the shelf, he sees a few framed pictures. One that had a picture of you carrying a three-year old Luke and the other that housed his first portrait taken for his first birthday. 
Sidney finds himself reaching for the portrait. He traces his son’s doe eyes with his calloused hand, letting his skin brush over his son’s ever so angelic face. Everything about Luke was perfect. 
You remember that day actually. Luke wasn’t much of a crier but it was evident that he needed more time to warm up in front of the camera. It took a lot of effort for you to finally make him smile; let alone the giggle that you, for who knows how, successfully brought out of him. 
Out of every shot that was taken, the one in Sidney’s hand was the one that stood out. The shot where he wasn’t looking at the lenses but the one where he was looking at you.
A bittersweet smile settles on his lips; one that your eyes didn’t fail to miss. 
You turn your focus onto getting Luke’s artworks. Ignoring the sudden drop you felt in your gut. You turn your back away from Sidney and say, “Let me find some of his old stuff. I know it’s in here somewhere.” 
Sidney doesn’t reply and it takes a while for him to speak again. You see him regain his posture just as he clears his throat. He turns to face you, brown eyes misty with regret. 
You see how tightly he held onto the frame. Even if you deny, something you thought would no longer ache, killed you once again the moment you met his gaze. 
“Do you…” he hesitates, “Do you have more of this?” 
You hold your breath, already knowing what he was asking for. Quietly, you nod as an answer. You turn your back on him once more in search of a book that you know you’ll guard with all your life. 
You’ve always made it a point to hoard as much memory of Luke as you can as he grows. You’ve crafted a photobook filled with photos starting from the day he was born; immortalizing every moment spent with him. 
You take it from the top shelf of Luke’s closet along with a box of random memorabilia you’ve kept of your son through the years. 
“I think you’d appreciate these.” you say as you walk towards Sidney. 
The two of you took comfort on the large race track carpet by the end of your son’s bed. You rest both of your backs against it as Sidney takes the photobook off your hands. 
“I’ve collected all these right after giving birth.” you begin telling him. 
Sidney opens the book whilst the two of you sit together with very little space apart. It’s the first time you’ve ever been this close but neither of you wanted to speak of it. So, for the little time you still have to spare before the night ends, you let yourselves bask in each other’s presence. 
“I wanted to keep something tangible besides the photos on my phone. I didn’t want him to grow up with nothing to look back on, you know? I wanted him to have something he could cherish; something he’d be glad that I did.” 
Sidney faintly nods as an acknowledgement. He turns each page with tender care knowing that the years he chose to give up were now resting in his hands. Not only was he about to be blessed by all the wonderful things that have since surrounded and nurtured his son, Sidney knew he was going to be reminded of the very obvious.
That was not even the worst part. 
And whose choice was that?
You didn’t lie. He saw the pictures from the day you had just given birth. He never knew someone could look sleepless, tired, and happy. Yet there you were, as beautiful as the precious little boy nestled in your arms. 
One of the first few that he’d seen was the one taken days after you and Luke returned to your parent’s home. Your hair was carelessly kept so it wouldn’t get in the way of your face while you breastfeed your newborn. You were basically half-asleep as you sat on your mom’s reading chair feeding Luke. It was the only chair you were comfortable in that it didn’t take long for it to become your nursing chair. 
The subsequent photos told the tale of you and your son’s domestic life. All that rested in Sidney’s hands were raw pictures of the very image he has only imagined for the past four years. 
There you were, a mom– a good one, doing it all alone just like you told him you would. You were right. You never needed him. He was not even half the man you were for fathering his child. It was one thing for Sidney to hope that you could have been wrong. That there’s the slightest chance of you needing his help now. However, as he sat with you in total silence, it’s apparent that his guilt is only growing more; eating him whole. 
“I…” He wanted to apologize. 
And you knew. 
“Don’t.” you say. 
It was not because apologies were not needed anymore. You’re just sure that if Sidney had said it, it wouldn’t be something you’d accept. 
Having him close so as to feel you breathe is already killing you. You have pushed yourself enough. 
Nevertheless, Sidney looks at you intently and whispers, “Thank you.” 
𖥸 
It was well into the night and nothing but Luke’s night light and his videos on your phone kept you and Sidney company. The two of you have been sharing giggles and laughs over the silly child that is your son. 
Sidney clings onto the photobook he has now finished going through as he immerses himself in the videos the two of you have begun to watch. 
You’re scrolling upwards in your “favorites” album when Sidney calls you attention. 
“What’s that video?” he asks, quirking his brows upon a video you had scrolled past. 
You tap onto the said video, showcasing the father and son race in the rink Sidney and Luke had a few weeks back. 
“I can’t believe you caught that on video.” Sidney chuckles shyly, heat rushing to his cheeks. 
“Come on, why wouldn’t I?” you tell him, sounding a lot genuine than you intended.
You find the need to kid, “I’d make more than a dime if I sell a video of the Penguins’ captain wriggling about towards the end of the rink, wouldn’t I?”
Sidney laughs. “Oh, you’d own me when that happens.”
Quietude settles once again, reminding that the fog of your relationship is yet to fully dissipate.
“Hey,” you begin. “You may take this home if you want.” 
For a moment, he was silent. “Are you sure?” 
He holds onto the photobook almost as if he was afraid of you changing your mind. 
“I mean, you’re going to have to return it of course. I just want you to have a few days with it. I know that’s what I’d want if I were in your shoes.” you say honestly. 
Unbeknownst to you, all Sidney wanted to do was engulf you into an embrace for being so kind to him throughout the night. He was so sure that he was still far from deserving your forgiveness but here you were, giving him the very thing he willfully ran away from. 
Sidney was about to say his thanks when he was halted by the ring of his phone. 
You quietly watch as he takes it out of his pocket. 
Shortly after he looks at the caller ID, he looks at you and excuses himself. 
“I just need to take this call. It won’t be long.” he says. 
You need not find the need to answer with words and just spare him a nod of acknowledgement. 
Sidney walks out of Luke’s room as he finally accepts the call from Ron Hextall, the General Manager of the Pittsburgh Penguins.
“Hey, Hexy.” Sidney warmly answers. 
“Hi, kid.” said Ron in a tone that was completely foreign for the captain. 
“What’s up?” he asks, sensing that there was something wrong. “Is this about Geno’s UFA Contract? Isn’t it a bit late to be discussing this?” 
There was a bit of weariness on the other line as Hextall declined the captain’s initial assumption. “I wanted to hear from you first.” 
“Hear what?” Sidney furrows his brows.
“Well, there’s an article of you and a ‘kid’ apparently circling the internet right about now. Is there any chance that this is a joke?” Hextall informs him the second he gets the chance.
Sidney felt his heart drop to his stomach. 
“What article?” 
“I’ve already sent it to you.” 
For a moment, Sidney takes his phone away from his ear and goes straight to his messages; a link to the article waiting for him to see. 
Furiously, he goes over it, seeing all kinds of baseless rumors not just about him but also about Geno and Kris. More importantly, you and Luke. 
Who is Y/N Y/L/N?
“Sidney, what’s going on?” Ron asks, the moment Sidney gets back to him.
“Ron, I’ll explain it first thing in the morning. But now, I need you to put it all down.” He requests.
“It’s blown up pretty much every social, Sid. It’s been up for an hour.” Hextall informs him further.
“Please.” His grip on the phone tightens, desperate. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
𖥸 
You were putting away some of Lucas’ stuff when Sidney opened the door. 
His eyes were evident with panic but you didn’t understand. 
“Hey,” Sidney hears your voice, asking him, “Is everything alright?” 
“I just got off the phone with the team’s GM.” he says, frantic. “I- I didn’t know how– Something happened.”
You step closer, reaching for his arm to console him. In a gentle voice, you ask what was wrong. Sidney couldn’t meet your eyes. 
“Well, what is it?”
“You have to know, I did not mean for it to happe–” he repeated.
You ask again, worried that something bad might have happened. “What is it, Sidney?” 
“There’s been… There’s an article about me… rumored to have a child. He told me there was a video of me and Luke taken earlier at the rink.” he starts to explain despite him not needing to continue. 
An article… Rumored to have a child… 
Sidney need not say no more for the rest of his words that followed were rendered mute by the imminent fear pinned on your little boy.
“What?” a word that came out of you more of a whisper than a question. 
He stares at you, stunned that he couldn’t think fast enough to remedy that came with the danger of such a news.
“I want to see it.” you demand.
Sidney, without much of a choice, hands you his phone with yours close to trembling as you take it.
He starts to explain, “Apparently, a clip was taken. I didn’t know-”
“Does ‘the Kid’ have a kid?” the headline read. 
In the said article, you saw the footage of your son skating along with Alex and Nikita who thankfully had their faces turned against the person who was recording the video. The content of it all was aimed at no one but the man standing before you; frightened and small. 
“What do you mean you didn’t know?” you fail to contain yourself. “You told me we were the only ones in there, Sid!”
“I’m sorry.” Sidney appeals, “I’m doing all that I can to take everything down.”
You move past him and aim for the stairs. Rushing to get away from him. “I can’t believe this.” 
Sidney calls your name as he follows you down the stairs. “Please, hear me out.” 
You look at him, eyes filled with betrayal. 
“How can I possibly hear you out? I asked you one thing, Sidney! One thing!” You push him away as you aim for the kitchen. “All I asked of you is to keep my son safe. But you can’t even do that, can you?”
“I didn’t know there were going to be reporters in the rink. You have to believe me.” Sidney follows your pace, maintaining a safe distance from you.
“I don’t care if you didn’t know! You’re supposed to know!” you argue. “That’s how being a parent is like– something you will never know because you’ve always thought about no one else but yourself!”
Sidney stood across from you, letting the breakfast table get in between. “I’m sorry.” he earnestly tells you.
You ball your hands into fists, glaring at the man. “I can’t believe I trusted you! God! I knew no good is ever gonna come out of being with you, but here I am. Dragging myself back in the hellhole I’ve escaped years ago. And you know what’s worse than that? I brought my innocent child along for the sake of what? Giving you the pleasure of playing make-belief just so you can feel less alone? Less lonely now that everyone’s got a life– a family of their own?”
“That’s not true,” Sidney contends; unable to defend himself, because even he was afraid to know if it was, in deed, the truth. 
“Oh, you don’t get to decide what’s true and what isn’t.” 
He breathes, “I promise you, I have it all under control.”
“Don’t even.” you say pointing at him. “You’re fucking promises are the reason we’re in this mess.” 
“What can I do to make you believe me?” 
This time, you make the mistake of looking at him. Sidney was a literal mess; scared, agitated, in total shock and panic.
“No. I can’t. I can’t do this with you, Sidney.” There came an evident catch in your throat as you said it. You avert his gaze, determined to not let your guard down.
He calls your name, pleading, practically close to groveling. He walks towards you, bearing the words you would have killed to hear from him a very long time ago.
“Please, let me make this right.”
Astounded, you scoff. “It’s always just words to you, isn’t it? It will always be just words.” 
The uninvited sorrow and pain of that night resurfacing. 
“I don’t want you seeing Luke anymore. This is over.”
Panic rises above his throat, “You can’t just take him away from me. He’s my son too!” 
“No. He isn’t.” you firmly state. “You turned down the chance of being his father the moment you walked out on me and you know that.” 
“That’s why I’m here, y/n!” Sidney’s voice breaks, “I want to be a father.” 
“You’re unbelievable.” you speak nothing but vile deep-seated resentment. “How are you this thick skinned, Sidney?”
He tries once more, accepting all the daggers being thrown his way. “I know our relationship is beyond repair, but please don’t put an end to my son and I’s relationship by taking him away from me.”
“I can’t keep repeating myself.” You turn away, “I don’t want you seeing him again.” 
Sidney gently takes your arm, “Y/N, please. I beg you.”
You hold your breath, afraid that one wrong step could derail you. You decide to face him but refuse to look him in the eye. 
“You know, I thought letting you near my son would be the biggest mistake I’d make in my life.” you let out a pitiful laugh, not exactly aimed at Sidney, but more at yourself. You’ve always said you have already moved past this, but what is this exactly? 
“But no, it’s always me knowing better and me choosing to believe in you every time. I’m done, Sidney.” You take your arm away from him. “You can hurt me all you want, but I won’t let you hurt my son.”
“Do you really mean that?” He prays that you don’t.
“Yes.” you unknowingly answer, regretting it the minute you did.
“I think it’d be best for you to leave.” 
Sidney’s shoulders drop. He faintly nods and leaves without a word.
You’ve always thought of you and Sidney as a house made of stone. A home that isn’t easily toppled down by the harsh gush of wind because it always finds its way to meander with it. Sure, your love may not have been the perfect kind everybody dreams of every once in a while, but you were certain that you loved the little cracks and crevices and the fact that it’s a little rough around the edges just enough. 
Although, while those were just some of the things you treasure about what has been, it still stands to this day as yet another cruel reminder of what you and Sidney really were. Yes, you may have held onto each other like stones, you may have loved the faint cracks of your home; but see, you can’t simply polish something that already had cracks from within. Because you know, deep down, cracks left untreated, no matter how strong the stone is, still breaks just as it eventually shatters.
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note: just a friendly reminder that those who opted out on the taglist for the interlude will be left untagged on the next update. as always, let me know what you think about this chapter through rbs, comments, or asks i always appreciate anything ♡
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oldshowbiz · 11 months
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The catchy tunes of socialist songwriter Harold Rome.
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LOOK AT THIS SIDNEY MITCHYMATTSWILLYJTMO LOVER🥹
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always a toronto kid 🫶
McDavid talks...
1. legacy, goals
2. maturing, Gretzky
3. pressure before draft, Bedard
Love that he's breaking out of this box he's been put in for so long. still funny tho. a good jokes a good joke yo
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archived-lehkonen · 2 years
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#yue.txt#not to be absolutely batshit deranged but the way nate and arsi are foils of each other narratively makes me alittle bit unhinged#the more i think about it the more my fingers twitch and my mind escapes me and my soul leaves my body and oh......#its the fact that nate has always been strong when it came to hockey and how his trajectory follows a pretty standard path:#become a star player and make a name for yourself and (post-crosby) get called the next crosby#and he could have gone a touch insane. he could have broken. he could have BEEN broken by the weight of it all#but he had a father who cared and loved him in a sensitive way. who told him it wasenough that he was himself#and for all intents and purposes hes been fine about it yknow? like he was well adjusted all things considered#and then u look across the world and arsi is 12 years old and he tells his dad he wants to play in the nhl#and his dad spits on his dreams and questions his skills and makes him doubt and doubt and doubt#and for years he does this. for 8 years he questions his own sons validity his own skills his own passions#and yes in the end arsi is a better player for it and theres no hard feelings betweenhim and his father#but you have to wonder if maybe there were times when he felt that this was the last time. this was it.#that his soul has been crushed and broken and there was no coming back from it#and idk. something very.. parallel. mirrored. weird. about the way their lives have unfurled.#nate the superstar . his father has always maintained that he was enough.#arsi the quiet one. his father tells him he might never be good enough#and now theyre on the same team and theyve won the cup and nate loves arsi. he /loves/ him.#and i wonder how that sort of love might change a person. how maybe if someone of nates caliber looks at arsi and theres pure joy and#adoration in his eyes and its too late to mend the person he was when he was 12 but maybe he can learn a thing or two abt being loved anyway#and maybe nate is keyed up and withdrawn and difficult now but arsi's weathered worse than that and loves him in spite of it#because nate is such a storm and oh arsi is a lighthouse#anyways. fic about this  in the works i guess.\
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culturevulturette · 1 year
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2023 Music Challenge
Oldest Song That You Love:  Let Me Call You Sweetheart
My sis and I went on vacation once, and when we returned, my dad had taught the dog to sing this with him.  Watching them perform it together was the greatest thing ever.  We were never able to capture it on video very well because the dog would freeze up whenever we brought out the camera.  We even tried hiding, but she always knew we were there and would clam up.  
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gyudons · 4 months
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During the last practice in Pittsburgh before the holiday break, Sidney Crosby brought cookies to the rink along with, of course, some banana bread – “his mom’s famous recipe,” Marcus Pettersson said with a grin. “He’s got a little addiction,” Kris Letang added.
Crosby bakes for the group periodically throughout the season, one of many thoughtful gestures the Penguins captain makes for his teammates – impressive from anyone, much less someone of his stature. During this season of giving, Pettersson and Rickard Rakell had been marveling at the captain’s generous nature that very day.
“Me and Raks were actually just joking around about how good he is with giving gifts,” Pettersson said. “I don't know if he has a thought behind it about when he retires, that he is expecting a lot of gifts back from everybody (laughs). But I don't think so. I think he’s just a great guy.”
Crosby goes above and beyond to mark occasions for the people around him, whether it’s a holiday, a career achievement, or simply a memorable experience. His capacity to do all of that, in addition to continuing to be an elite talent at age 36 and an unparalleled leader, is remarkable.
Evgeni Malkin, Crosby’s fellow franchise center and teammate for nearly two decades, said, “It’s almost like he’s the perfect player, perfect friend. Some guys win just one Stanley Cup, they think they’re like a god, you know? But Sid, never. You see everybody wants to play here, first of all, it’s because of Sid.”
Letang joked that he wasn’t going to use the word perfect, “because there’s nothing perfect,” he laughed. “But he always makes sure everybody is taken care of, and they’re having a good time. He loves to get to know people. For me, what he did for my dad last year… the banana bread stuff… it’s just a way of looking at things, you never want to leave some people behind. There’s not a specific gesture that comes to mind, because it’s such a daily thing for him.”
Tyson Barrie, was touched by something the captain did for his agent, Bayne Pettinger, who had previously worked for Team Canada. Pettinger had been sitting with Crosby at another one of those BioSteel camps, which was in Montreal. At the time, Pettinger had recently come out as gay and mentioned in passing to Crosby how he thought the Pride warmup jerseys were so cool.
“Bayner FaceTimed me a couple months later, almost in tears,” Barrie said. “The concierge at his condo called him and was like hey, there’s a big package here for you, can you come down and grab it? Turns out Sid had gotten a Pride jersey framed for Bayner. He wrote, ‘Bayner, proud of you.’ That’s the kind of guy he is. You'll never hear about any of this stuff. He's just always doing stuff under the radar. He’s just a special guy.”
merry christmas! here’s a sweet little story about canadian hockey star sidney crosby
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