#sidney crosby x f!reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohmyeyesmyeyes · 1 year

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secret double life

sidney crosby x f!actress!reader

fc: dianna agron

liked by vogue, kaitlyndever and 764,982 others

ynofficial: i apologise on behalf of makeup artists across the world. i have failed you and learnt nothing since i was 17, and for that i am deeply sorry. anyway, this has been a dream come true of mine - thank you for the opportunity vogue! (i apologise for the lateness, but the video is up on YT rn!)

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user12: you can do no wrong in my eyes, even if the foundation was the wrong shade

user13: she fr worked with it and said 'trust the process'

user14: i can feel the mascara wand in my eye

user15: HER RINGS FUCK WHAT IF THAT TWITTER THREAD WAS RIGHT

user16: the twitter thread was right what are you talking about??????

user17: was it all common knowledge or something?

user18: forgetting they're married is like never remembering that ryan reynolds was married to scarlett johansson

user19: was it just me or did anyone else hear a child laugh in the background?

user20: ME!!!!

user21: babe you're looking so good

user22: thank you for feeding us with this content

liked by user23 and 14,914 others

gossip: after the news has begun recirculating, pittsburgh penguins legend, sidney crosby, has been seen attending a charity gala with his wife, actress y/n l/n. it is unknown as to how long the couple have been married, but rumours suggest 10+ years.

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user24: WHAT!!!!! THEY BOTH LOOK SO GOOD!!!!

user25: idk which one i want to bite first

user26: i'm praying for confirmation 🙏🙏

user27: it has only just occurred to me that people don't know about these two and it upsets me sm 😭

user28: parents

user29: they actually might be though

user30: I'VE BEEN THINKING THIS!!

liked by user31 and 20,008 others

unofficialnhlnews: a reporter asked crosby if he had any family in the stands for today's 1000th game for the pens, he said yes and when asked (for the first time, nearly ever), who, he replied with "well, i flew out some of my family from home, but my wife's watching today."

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user32: CONFIRMATION WTF

user33: he was so open with it what

user34: BRO STARTED BLUSHING

user35: i don't think i've ever seen crosby smile like that

user36: if this is true, i'm thinking about the baby laugh in the background of her vogue grwm

user37: tbh if they've been together for that long they literally could have a kid fr

liked by annabellewallis, monicabarbaro and 791,372 others

ynofficial: apparently i lead a secret double life?

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user38: IS THAT CHILD YOURS? IS IT SIDNEY CROSBY'S KID?

user39: it'd be so funny if it is hers and sid's with the ovi jersey

user40: the armpit scribbler is definitely sid

ynofficial: he's one of the three 👍

user41: does that count as a hard launch??????????

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liked by nhl, aleksandrovechkinofficial and 962,822 others

ynofficial: sid by me ❤ it's been an honour to experience life with you so far - i really fucking love you.

to the rest of you: i give you sid, and introduce you to mason and india!

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user45: *sharp inhale* AAAAAAAAAAAA

user46: he was so baby 😭

user47: SIDNEY CROSBY IS A DILF ⚠️ I REPEAT SIDNEY CROSBY IS A DILF ⚠️

user46: the baby in the #87 jersey i'm sobbing

user47: we said confirm pls and y/n and sid heard change lives

user48: oh 😭 my 😭 god 😭

user49: india and mason are so fucking cute

user50: the first picture is breaking hearts

user51: what about that kid that was wearing the ovi jersey?

ynofficial: mini ovi and mini crosby swapped jerseys after the all star game this year!! both dads cried

liked by alexachung, kaitlyndever and 918,926 others

ynofficial: y/n by me (sid) ❤ i really fucking love you, too

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user52: simple but romantic

user53: i'm crying

user54: THE ONES WHEN HE'S CUDDLING HER AHKSJGF

user55: the wedding photo lmao

user56: baby and bump

user57: i'm definitely dying alone

liked by user58 and 19 others

ynofficial: 😋

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#sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby social media au #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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goodnightoilcountry · 4 months

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jo's pittsburgh penguins fic rec list !

fic rec masterlist: jo's nhl fic rec list !

like my selection of fic recs? have a player who's not been featured? let me know and i'll go on a deep dive for you!

MICHAEL BUNTING

i couldn't stand you by @ ohmyeyesmyeyes summary: (slow burn enemies to frenemies to friends etc / f!reader x mb) three years: arguments, truces, break-ups, moving houses...michael bunting wasn't nearly as irritating as you'd initially expected.

SIDNEY CROSBY

lavender haze by @ miracleonice87 summary: online / social media bullying, swearing, implied 10 year age gap between Sid (age 36) and reader insert (age 26) word count: 4.1k

call me crosby pt1 + pt2 + pt3 + pt4 + pt5 + interlude pt1 + interlude pt2 + pt6 by @ barzzal 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. word count: 68.4k total

he's a punk by @ marnerparty summary: Sidney Crosby x Zegras!reader word count: 2.3k

to sail beyond the sunset pt1 + pt2 + pt3 + pt4 + pt5 by @ spine-buster summary: Sidney Crosby and Juniper Brooks grew up together though they blazed through different paths: he, of course, as a hockey superstar, and she as a competitive ballerina. Consistently being at the top of their game meant that they were the only ones who really understood each other’s intensity, discipline, and dedication to their craft. After thirty years, three Stanley Cups, and thousands of pointe shoes, Sidney and June are still faced with the questions that haunt every person in their thirties: who have they become? What are they doing? What are they going to do? Will they be able to answer these questions with each other, or do things get more complicated as time goes on? word count: 19.8k total

by the water, euphoria pt1 + pt2 by @ flashyfucker summary: your first summer spent at your family’s beach house after dropping out of college. your older sister is married to a hockey player, and you’re about to share a bedroom wall with his team’s captain for a few weeks. word count: 14.2k total

what love feels like by @ laurenairay summary: your boyfriend Sidney, the surprise romantic? word count: 3.3k

oh say can you see by @ thatinwardhell summary: unspecified age gap, morally dubious relationship (babysitter/dilf,) word count: 10.9k

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holy-puckslibrary · 8 months

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━ 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — tradition!dbf!SIDNEY CROSBY x reader wc — 3k synopsis — she's pretty when she pouts. even prettier when she cries.

note — while you don't necessarily have to, i highly recommend reading tradition before this, as they exist in the same universe. this semi-part two is from our feb slumber party!

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — strangely, a lot of angsty angst; sidney being... sidney (gracie's version); references to a past sexual encounter; not super descriptive smut (pretty tame for me ngl); panty sniffing teehee; voyeurism + f masturbation; kinda sorta exhibitionism/risky location; degradation/name-calling balanced out by some praise; orgasm control + denial, edging then overstim; dacryphila; cameo from two of my fav gentlemen ;)

A newly born fawn can stand within ten to twenty minutes of entering the world and is able to manage walking after several hours—albeit, rather ungracefully. With time, fawns do become more sure-footed and less likely to stumble or fall, usually experiencing pervasive wobbliness and frequent fatigue, which wanes over weeks. In the meantime, however, their weak limbs won't carry them very far.

A few feet of grass and pavement would be doable. Uncoordinated and slow, though not impossible.

But you are not a baby deer, regardless of how similar your strides may appear. A resemblance so uncanny that it's the first remark made by each and every party guest you pass on your trek up the driveway.

Overdid yourself at the gym, you fib with the limp, "Don't worry about it," swipe of your hand through the warm evening air. Either too oblivious or intoxicated, not one bats an eye despite the mountain of evidence piled on your face—and dripping down your inner thighs.

The shameless, self-satisfied sound of Sidney Crosby's amusement slipping through his fingers—ones which still carry a suspiciously tart scent—isn't helping but is just as easily overlooked.

As you stumble through the party, still bustling as ever, you begin to think he lied when he turned down your parents'—and his—street. When he said the punishment was over, that you'd earned his forgiveness. Just another empty promise strung together with hollow words from his silver tongue.

He was enjoying your misery too much for it to be accidental. Sidney wasn't overly affectionate or even that warm of an individual. Charming and magnetic, but never sweet or sentimental. It was something you were still grappling with, still trying to make peace with. He wasn't a monster, just cooly indifferent.

Which is why a (stupid) part of you expected some small benevolence after you opened your legs for him—again.

Like, for instance, returning your panties instead of pocketing them. Or, not making you mingle with half the town with your own shame sliding down past the hem of your skirt—what a concept!

It could be worse. He did say he planned to hang them from the rearview mirror or stash them in his center console. The chances of someone accidentally stumbling upon the sullied snow-white cotton were significantly lower, with them balled in the back pocket of his well-loved denim, than either alternative.

Sidney Crosby ruined your night and your mood, but worst of all, several orgasms. All because he didn't "appreciate" the silent treatment.

Hypocrite.

"Don't ignore me," said the man who flaked on your father's poker night.

"Don't ignore me," said the man who hadn't bothered to call, despite going out of his way to ask your mother for your phone number—lead on a job, my ass.

"Don't ignore me," said the man who brought a date to your parents' anniversary party, then scowled like someone shit in his Cheerios when an acquaintance of yours from high school wanted to walk down memory lane.

"Don't ignore me," said the man who crashed your attempt to escape his punitive glare of disapproval.

He was easy enough to ignore even if it was his car you were riding shotgun in. Plenty of buttons to busy yourself with and an endless array of distractions beyond the large tinted window. Sidney Crosby was little more than a gnat buzzing around your head. Unpleasant and obnoxious, but bearable.

Until the kind, naïve cashier complimented the "adorable couple," and, naturally, asked how long they'd been together. An innocuous question to which the older man scoffed, and promptly corrected her outlandish assumption, leaving her apologetically rosy-cheeked.

After setting the replenishment of bottles and cans in the backseat, you shut the Range Rover's door a bit too harshly. You weren't surprised to feel his displeasure boring into your temple as the engine hummed to life.

In no mood for a lecture, you cut off whatever prim, self-righteous bullshit he had to say at the knees, "You're pissed I slammed the door, I'm pissed you were a dick to the teenager who doesn't get paid enough to deal with your awful lack of tact. We're even, alright?"

"She speaks," was his astute, amused comeback.

He put the car in reverse and backed out of the spot with his hand braced against your headrest.

You couldn't stomach his inconsistent ambivalence a second longer.

Hands thrown up in defeat, frustration burst from your mouth. "Why are you acting like I don't exist? As if...as if—"

He waited for you to complete your thought, but it's one you'd never finish. You hardly allowed yourself to think it most nights. It shouldn't matter if you matter to him.

But the universe has a sick sense of humor.

"You're... confusing. I don't—I don't get you."

Sidney simply sighed, his eyes trained on the vacant road ahead. "You'll understand when you're older."

"Jesus, what's next?" You couldn't help but snort at the cliché throwaway line. "What I was your age...?' or 'Back in my day...?' I am on the edge of my seat, Mr. Crosby."

"Quit it. I'm in no mood to deal with your dramatics tonight, kid. I'm already at my limit with you."

The feeling was very much mutual.

"Make me."

A horrible, mocking sound erupted from the driver's side that made you want to curl into yourself and never unravel. The only thing worse than being ghosted, it seemed, was the outright rebuff of your advances.

For a long while, the only sound was the gentle, steady hum of the AC; Sidney wasn't a "radio person."

Eye-roll. You started to think you weren't a "Sidney person."

After your fourth or fifth—you'd lost count by now—Sidney looked at you in his periphery. His coal-black stare made you giddy in a way that made you feel equally as silly.

You hated wanting him more than you could ever hate him.

With an exaggerated sigh of his own, Sidney stuck out his hand. Palm up, directly over the center console.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with that?" you spat, brows pinched in confusion.

You felt his growl in your ribs, but that twinge was nothing when compared to what his subsequent command did to your mind and body.

"Take off whatever excuse for undergarments you put on with in me in mind, and put them in my hand."

Time froze, and so did you.

"I won't ask again."

You don't make him.

You bunched your skirt up to the creases of your thighs without another peep, and your heart pounded so roughly in your ears that it made your vision blur and blacken around the edges. Nervous fingers trembled as they hooked into the delicate garment and pulled them down your thighs. As you lifted your rear, cold air flooded the intimate place, and you nearly lost your nerve. With the soft cotton stretched impatiently at your knees, your head whipped from side to side to scrutinize your surroundings. Then, with the coast as clear as it would ever be, you surrendered them.

He chuckled at your paranoia, finding it oddly endearing, and continued to do so even after his prize was secured, bundled safely in his clutches.

Mr. Crosby brought them to his face. He inhaled deeply, much to your chagrin, and he kept them squarely under his nose for three intersections in spite of your palpable embarrassment. There was more to blame your squirming on than just the chill of the air conditioning.

"Can you... like, not?" you mumbled as you shrunk into the passenger seat, mortified.

"What's the matter? Feeling shy?" He laughed into the creamy center of the fabric.

You swear his tongue slipped out, but it was too dark to know for certain. Your body didn't need confirmation to tremble. Out of discomfort... or fear...

Arousal?

"—you weren't five seconds ago when you stripped in my front seat for anyone to see. Or when you let me fuck you with your father on the other side of the door. Me, his best friend. But that's where you draw the line?"

You, quiet as a mouse, shifted uncomfortably on the cool leather until your gaze couldn't leave the neighborhoods blurring together beyond the dark glass.

Sidney Crosby wasn't the most delicate with emotions, but this was cruel even for him. You know he can see right through you, and to leverage your... whatever you feel just to belittle you for his own amusement wasn't something you thought to worry about. It wasn't a possibility you considered, but maybe you should've.

You don't turn at the sound of your name, but you do hum in acknowledgment.

"I'm not poking fun at you, kid, I promise."

The sincerity in his low timbre tugged on your heartstrings, and soon, your eyes were back on the opposite side of the SUV.

He wasn't looking at you, but his attention never split or wavered. "I asked you to do that because I'd been thinking about you—and the way your sweet pussy smelled—since Christmas. Five fucking months... tormented by the memory. I apologize if I took it too far."

Some emotion, one you could not bear to label, bubbled up your throat as you chewed on his words. Fearful you might be eclipsed by a shadow of doubt, you shoved it right the hell down in favor of your preferred fall-back.

"Make it up to me?"

You knew you were offering yourself up on a silver platter. And you did feel unsure about it—the action, the potential consequences, and the plethora of ways you would, more than likely, be hurt. However, when regret crept in, belated and benign, it hadn't mattered.

"Tempting. Later—if you behave. Right now, I want to watch."

Your stupid, malleable heart flipped over a cracked door.

Throat clenched, you gulped. "What about... Shouldn't you focus, I don't know, on not killing us?"

"Shouldn't you focus on the ache between those pretty thighs?"

One light change. From green to yellow and finally, red—that was all the time you required to heed Sidney's sardonic counsel and cave to your body's needs. That was how quickly you wound up with one knee hiked up and bent, resting against the soft material of the center console. Your eagerness displayed proudly, glittering as it caught in the streetlights that lead back toward reality.

Sidney Crosby had you halfway to spread-eagle in the passenger seat of a moving vehicle with your hands up the skirt he wanted to burn—and he refused to let you cum.

Every time you got close, he made you stop. A few times, he even barred you from touching yourself anywhere at all. He would coach you to the brink, pushing you closer and closer each time, but Sidney always stopped you short of the finish line. He repeated this pain-pleasure torture until you were sobbing at his side, a smirk splayed wide across the lower half of his otherwise stoic face.

"What's wrong?" He asked as if he cared.

"It's not—I need... I-I need more—need you."

You hardly recognized your own voice. Too pitchy and distant, you wouldn't have, if not for the way the words scratched your delicate throat as they came up. You choked on your own salty tears.

He liked making you cry a little more than could be considered healthy. But what he liked even more was how, even with the ability to take pleasure at your own hand, you wouldn't. You couldn't. You needed him—his approval, his permission, his touch. You were useless without him.

"Tough shit, slut," Sidney replied.

Free of malice, you would've considered the name affectionate—an endearment, almost—if it came from anyone else.

"You get what you deserve, and you haven't earned my fingers, let alone my cock. I'm damn sure of it."

You made a wet, woeful sound that almost made him pity you. Almost. If he hadn't been driving, he might have given in just to squeeze out more pathetic whimpers.

He was glad to have resisted the urge in the deserted parking lot to bend you over the hood of his car, and he was proud of himself for not jerking the car onto the shoulder to take you in the backseat. Sidney's resolve had dwindled significantly as the drive dragged on, chipped away by your sad eyes and even sadder sounds and the guilt he couldn't stifle.

Sidney couldn't give you what you wanted, but he could provide a substitute. A poor one, by both your standards, but you'd make do.

"Alright, alright. Quit your whining. If you want to cum tonight, you'll do the work yourself. Go on, big girl, you wanted to be grown so badly. Take care of the problem like a grown-up."

You listened, and you stumbled over the edge almost instantly.

Your fingers were desperate to make the best of a bad situation. A mixed bag, in reality, one you won't bother to sort through until it's unavoidable. And, before long, you were writhing into your own touch, imagining it was his instead like you have every night since he had you in the bathroom at your parents' holiday party.

Until headlights flashed, bright and commanding like the alarms that failed to sound in your head whenever Sidney Crosby was involved. Three fingers remained knuckle-deep when your body, still reeling from your latest peak, seized up in fear.

"Did I tell you to stop?" came his strict, no-nonsense censure.

Your head wagged; he knew your answer without needing to look.

He offers you the hand that took your panties from you. This time, though, you didn't need further instruction. As you suckled, his thumb massaged your warm tongue.

"Stop thinking. You don't have to worry about anything ’sides fucking your fingers the way you'd fuck mine, and sucking my thumb the way I know you'd suck my cock."

When he pulled to a stop at the red light, he took full advantage of the momentary reprieve. Sidney leaned so close, the heat of his lips pressed to your skin without ever truly touching you. It was pure maddens, but his words were worse: "—maybe I'll let you. If you're a good little girl and prove, you're worthy of the honor."

Tears streamed down your hot cheeks. The salty, silvery rivers glistened in the passing lights of house lights and other cars. Sidney's fingers twitched against the wheel as they resisted the urge to scoop them up and suck them down.

What a waste.

His thumb slipped from your mouth as your grip on his wrist and forearm slackened. Sidney braced himself for whatever trivial complaint you meant to voice this time.

"But... but I—fuck... N-No more... can't—can't do it, can't do another one. P-Please—don't m-make me..."

If he hadn't been so irritated, he would have found your garbled, sputtering mess of a plea humorous. Instead, he felt it was an inconvenience. Sidney did not understand why you were behaving like an insolent brat when you getting the attention you tugged his sleeve for.

"First, you beg for it, and now you're whining to stop. Which is it? Make up your mind and use your big girl words."

You did.

And you're still wearing the product of your repeated efforts nearly an hour later, your head as fuzzy as ever. Several times, your spaciness has been commented on or lightly joked about, but you lack the energy to give a shit. You're too out of it to even muster up annoyance.

Deciding to call it a night, you quietly slip away from your parents. They're too wrapped up in playing gracious hosts to notice, accepting overpriced, useless gifts and congratulations like it's their full-time jobs.

On the way to your bedroom, you're intercepted.

"There she is, Miss Master's Degree! How've you been, honey? Keeping out of trouble?"

You allow yourself to be scooped up by the younger of the two brothers huddled in a corner of the family room, and a genuine smile isn't difficult to find.

"Knock it off, Tommy," Mr. Miller chides after your feet have been returned to the ground. "You of all people should know how, and I quote, fucking lame the Adult World is. I'd be more concerned about her dying of boredom than getting into any trouble."

"Oh, don't worry. I've found ways to amuse myself," you reply with an easy laugh.

Neither catches the innuendo, but it reaches the intended audience.

Hearing the familiar grumble of ire, you politely excuse yourself. "I am so sorry, but I need to lie down. My head is killing me."

Mr. Miller's warm brown eyes glisten with paternal sympathy. He rubs between your shoulder blades. "Of course, sweetheart. You've had a crazy last couple of months. Stop by when you're feeling better, okay? Sarah and Ellie miss their favorite babysitter."

You smile and nod an affirmative before stepping away.

Your spot between the brothers is swiftly filled by two of their endless admirers, eager to chat up the introverted widower with two pre-teen daughters and his flirtatious veteran of a younger brother. You don't blame them. They were as easy on the eyes as they were to talk to, and, in a world of boys, two southern gentlemen were a rare commodity. A hot one, too.

The younger Miller wouldn't have caused any brows to rise if you brought him to Thanksgiving.

With your hand coasting over the banister, you find yourself wishing it were Tommy—or even Mr. Miller, you couldn't get off your mind instead of...

Shaking your head, you trot up the stairs, slipping into the darkness without a second glance. You weren't kidding about the migraine.

He waits fifteen minutes before disappearing into the same shadows.

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All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2024 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

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littlebabyboybarzal · 3 years

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Silk - And Then Life Was Beautiful Blurb

Prompt: Sid’s outfit for the 2019 Christmas video haunts me to this day and his SB, Rianne is feeling the same way this Christmas.

*Headcanon bullet point format*

Warnings: Sexual themes, thigh riding, slightly dom!sid, 18+

A/n: I miss these two and wanted to write a little Christmas thing for them. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone! 🥰

It’s their first Christmas together and they decided to not get each other crazy gifts

The day starts off with an elaborate breakfast that Sid makes and they share in bed followed by opening their gifts

Sid gifs Rianne with a special edition copy of her favorite classic novel that he found at an estate sale earlier in the year

He also found a music box that she saw at a local antique shop and had it fixed to play Clair de lune, her favorite song to study to

Rianne made Sid a scrapbook, since he’s sentimental like that

It holds things like ticket stubs and receipts to places they’ve gone together as well as pictures and inside jokes

Sid tries not to cry

Rianne has a second gift, this one breaking their rule

She remembers the team’s 2019 Christmas video they made and how good he looked in his red satin pajamas

She may have watched it a couple of times just for that

Ever since then, she couldn’t stop thinking about how handsome he looked and how good he’d feel against her naked body as he wore just that to get her off

But she doesn’t tell him all of that

Sid is surprised and playfully scolds her for going over their gift price but he likes the pjs surprisingly

They spend the rest of the day cooking and eating and watching movies. The pair happy to take a break and be lazy together

Sid has noticed how Rianne has been looking at him all day, especially after she gave him the luxurious pajamas

He’s not completely oblivious to the fact they’re eerily similar to the ones he wore for the Christmas video

Sid decides to indulge her by putting them on after his shower

Rianne didn’t expect him to wear them so soon but when he steps out of their shared bathroom her jaw nearly disconnects from her face

Sid is smug- “see something you like?”

Rianne nods silently and beckons him to bed

She runs her hands up and down his arms, appreciating how his muscles feel under the smooth fabric

Sid knows his girl and knows that she definitely has a reason for this gift that is most likely self serving

After a little coaxing, he gets her to express her fantasy and he can’t help but moan

Sid gets on the bed, his frame propped up by the mountain of pillows she insists on having

“Take off your clothes,” he commands and for once, Rianne isn’t a brat about it and does what he says without fussing

He makes her get herself off on his leg, her slick ruining the pretty fabric and Sid refuses to help

“This is your fantasy, you finish it yourself.”

His words send heat straight to her aching core and she comes embarrassingly quick

Sid chuckles and kisses her face as she comes down

“Now, do it again.”

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby x f!reader #sugar daddy!sid #nhl fics #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #nhl smut

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littlebabyboybarzal · 3 years

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>> And Then Life Was Beautiful-Ch. 1

Fic rating: Mature/Explicit

Word Count: 1.612

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex work

A/n: I do not claim to know him or any of his kinks, I just use him as a face claim. MINORS DNI. No one is permitted to copy/redistribute my work onto any other blog or website. Other than that, please reblog and comment!

Banner courtesy of @firefly-graphics

I can’t believe I’m doing this, Sidney thinks to himself as he scrolls through one of the many sugar daddy sites Kris gave him. Am I really that desperate for intimacy? Many of the girls are pretty, all of different races and backgrounds and most young. He can’t help but feel sleazy, like a creepy old guy trying to revitalize himself by proxy of these young girls youth.

“Not be that guy but when are you ever gonna get married?” Kris asks him as they wait in the car for his son’s, Alex, school to finish. Sid loves to tag along to see all the little ones race out of school and run to their parents who await them with open arms. He desperately wants that hot himself but he feels like the window of opportunity is closing.

“When I meet the right girl,” Sid says with a shrug. He shifts in his seat, the leather suddenly very uncomfortable and the car borderline claustrophobic. Sid has been hearing this question since he turned thirty, maybe even before I then. At first, it never bothered him. He chalked it up to people being nosy, wanting everyone to follow an imaginary social clock. By twenty-five have a job and be self sufficient, thirty be married and maybe have a kid. Yadda, yadda, yadda. He thought he had someone, through those dark times with his concussion but waiting around for him to get better was too much for her and the fact that he never popped the question after didn’t help matters.

~flashback~

“When the right girl comes along,” kris repeats with an incredulous huff. “Are you even trying to look for a partner?”

“I am!”

“Okay how? And don’t say at bars because that’s pathetic.” Sid closes his mouth before he can even get a word out. Fuck Kris for knowing him so well.

“Okay so maybe I’m out of practice. I don’t even know if I want a relationship right now. I just know I’d like to not come home to an empty house every game. Maybe have someone to talk to and be with who isn’t the team,” Sid says softly. Kris looks at his friend with sympathetic eyes.

“I understand. Maybe I can help.” Sid looks at Kris and sees the mischief on his face.

“Oh no, whatever you have planned I already don’t like it.”

“Oh come on! You haven’t even heard what it is!” Sid doesn’t hear the idea until after Alex is picked up and the two men talk over the phone later that night.

“A sugar baby?! That’s your great idea?!” Sid is appalled at the idea. Paying some girl to essentially be his not girlfriend? Insane. Absolutely insane. Sure, he knows guys in the league have done it and some have resulted in marriage but that’s such a small sample.

“Hey don’t knock it to you try it! Plus, you’re desperate enough,” Tanger snickers. Sid shoots him daggers at the phone even though he knows Kris can’t see him.

“I am not desperate.”

“Im just messing with you man, lighten up. Just give it a try, you never know. I’ll send you some sites for you to look at.” Sidney can’t help but think that Kris has been on these sites before.

“Have you been a-a sugar daddy?” Sid asks and cringes at his voice even saying the title. When did his life get so weird?

“It’s not a dirty word Sid and yeah. Before I met Catherine and I was enjoying my new found fortune. It was fun but not for me I guess.” Sid’s phone dings in his ear and he looks at it to see a text from Kris with links to to the websites.

With an annoyed sigh he tells Tanger he’ll talk to him later and hangs up.

Rianne Thomas is twenty-four and on her third potential sugar daddy date this week. What is wrong with men? They all think that she needs to be at their beck and call, given a small allowance on top of apparently fucking them. What these fake sugar daddies want is a prostitute and not that there is anything wrong with that, that isn’t what Rianne does and it isn’t what she wants to do.

The new guy, some real estate investor named Robert is talking her ear off about shit she doesn’t care about and how his wife is so awful, blah blah blah. Rianne bats her eyes and nods when appropriate, laughs at his not funny jokes and tries not to look so repulsed by his touch. She thought he was the one when they talked previously but he was a good liar she supposes. They part amicably, Rianne going home to her cozy townhome outside the city of Pittsburgh to unwind and forget about that weird ass date. The home was purchased for her by a previous sugar daddy, the perfect three-story brick townhome with a backyard. Sometimes she misses that SD but the two parting ways is for the better.

It’s the last week before school starts and she still doesn’t have a new SD which is a problem because her loan is big. Her parents helped her with her first degree, public policy and analysis from Emory University in Atlanta, her family’s hometown. She took a year off to work but after realizing she needed a bit more knowledge for her field, she decided to go back to school. Unfortunately for Rianne, grad school must be paid on her own. Spending your whole life in one city leaves it feeling small, so she decided to get out. There were too many bad memories in that city and the closeness to everyone she grew up with was annoying. Now was the time for Rianne to spread her wings and get a bit of freedom. She chose a program far from home and the University of Pittsburgh was the first school to accept her and it’s a good program for her master’s in public health, so she said fuck it and moved during the summer. At the time, she was with her former sugar daddy, and he offered to get her a home so she would have a nicer place to stay while she’s in school. He was always so generous with her, too bad he had to fuck it up. Rianne goes to her room and changes for a shower and afterward she dresses and winds down with some wine and trashy tv.

When Sid comes across Rianne’s profile on the sugaring site, he’s immediately smitten. She’s gorgeous and seems pretty normal compared to the other girls on the site. There’s the added bonus that she’s in Pittsburgh and doesn’t seem to care too much about sports, so no groupies thank God. Sid finds her Instagram account and scrolls through it, impressed at all her adventures and even more at how attractive he finds her.

It takes him nearly two weeks to message her on Instagram. Why would she want to get into this arrangement with an old guy like me? Sid thinks to himself, granted he had seen the profiles of the other men on the site, and they were much older than he is. If anything, he has a better shot than they do. One afternoon, he works up the courage to send her a message. Sid feels like a teenager again, anxiously waiting for a pretty girl to call or message him back and him still not knowing what to say to her when she does.

Rianne_Thomas: Um hey? Are you really Sidney Crosby?

SPC87: Last time I checked yes. Would you like proof?

Rianne_Thomas: Yeah, if you don’t mind

Sidney goes to fish out his license from his wallet and takes a picture of it. He remembers to thank his sister for teaching him how to use the editing tool in the photo app on his phone while he blacks out his address. He sends the picture to her and waits but the wait isn’t long.

Rianne_Thomas: Okay I believe you. So…how did you find me?

SPC87: This is embarrassing but through the sugaring site you posted your info on?

Rianne_Thomas: Ooohh! Are you interested in being my sugar daddy Sidney?

Sid blushes hard, no one has ever called him daddy. At least not to his face.

SPC87: I guess so, that is why I was on the website in the first place.

Rianne_Thomas: How do I know that you’re actually good for the money? I know you play hockey but do y’all actually make money?

Sid snorts at her insinuation that he’s broke.

SPC87: I have more money than I know what to do with. Feel free to look me up.

Rianne_Thomas: Ok maybe I will!

Rianne does a quick google search of the guy and her jaw drops. Perhaps he’s kind of cute and he’s not so fucking old. His award section on Wikipedia takes so fucking long to read though and his salary is pretty nice too.

Rianne_Thomas: Aight so you got some money and apparently aren’t half bad at hockey

SPC87: 😂 I do alright I guess

Rianne_Thomas: More than alright it seems. Well I’m intrigued, maybe we can meet up and get to know each other a little better

SPC87: I’d like that

Rianne_Thomas: Great! I’ll let you know when and where I’d like to meet, I am a busy woman you know

SPC87: I like a woman who takes charge plus this is about your needs if not more than mine

Rianne_Thomas: Ooohh keep talking like that and you might get more than you bargained for Sidney!

SPC87: That doesn’t sound so bad to me 😊

Tags: @princessphilly @prettybiching @izzylovestheworld @paintingtheice @rinkrats @barzzal

#and then life was beautiful #atlwb #atlwb update #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby x f!reader #sidney crosby #nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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