#sc87 fluff

ㅤㅤㅤᱽৎ definitely makes you wake up early with him because he says it’s healthy. you still end up falling asleep on the couch the second he’s out the door for the gym.

ㅤㅤㅤᱽৎ has been saving you a seat in the friends and family part of the stands since week two of you dating because he just rolls like that.

ㅤㅤㅤᱽৎ will go above and beyond to fulfill your wishes, no matter what they are. simple because, well he’s rich.

ㅤㅤㅤᱽৎ sidney is probably the most respectful man you’ve ever met. he would never do anything you don’t approve of, even if it doesn’t have anything to do with your relationship.

ㅤㅤㅤᱽৎ we all know sid is insanely superstitious. so, he will 100% believe the two of you meeting was destiny and he’ll come up with the most random superstition to do with you after doing it once and winning his game.

ㅤㅤㅤᱽৎ your shared apartment is full of mementos from dates you two have been on. partly because you wanted to keep them, but also because sidney is just so superstitious he believes something bad will happen if he gets rid of them.

ㅤㅤㅤᱽৎ watches highlight reels of his own on loop, trying to find his own mistakes. when you come and join him on the couch, even at the most absurd hours, he just tucks you under his arm and scratches your head until you fall asleep.

ㅤㅤㅤᱽৎ insists on everyone who enters your apartment to wear the fluffy slippers you picked out, no exceptions.

ㅤㅤㅤᱽৎ family skate day is his favorite of the entire year, simply because he can show you off — and maybe teach you a little skating on the side.

ㅤㅤㅤᱽৎ the first time you open his closet, you get jumpscared because there’s a dartboard with the flyers logo pinned to it, destroyed with dozens of dart holes.

ㅤㅤㅤᱽৎ gave you at least ten of his old pens shirts, just for you to wear to bed.

“21-year-old graduate student from pittsburgh, pennsylvania is the alleged new wag of ice hockey icon, sidney crosby – who is 17 years older than her!”

the tabloid’s headline taunted you in bold black letters, glaring at you through the screen. it felt like a rock had dropped in your stomach at the sight of the article’s title. you blinked back the rising feeling of humiliation that always came when somebody brought up the imbalance in your relationship with sid.

you knew the newspapers – the less reputable ones, at least – would be cruel like this. it’s been on your mind since the very beginning, when you met sid at a club and brought him home to your modest apartment that you shared with your three roommates rather than a glitzy mansion that other people in his career sphere had. it’s no secret that you’re completely different than sid, but your modest life isn’t something you’d ever change. yet it never fails to irk you that people use it against you so viciously.

of course people would talk snidely about you two. there was so much material to go off of: the obvious piece of gossip being your age gap, which was over a decade. but also, there were the disparities in your incomes, your backgrounds, your futures.

you were struggling to get your master’s degree in biochemistry; meanwhile, sid had already broken a thousand records on the ice by the time he turned twenty-one. he was famous and beloved by all, an olympic gold medalist, a three-time stanley cup winner. and you were just some girl from pittsburgh with a mind full of formulas and a heart that had fallen in love with a superstar athlete.

you tore your eyes off of the screen, loosening your tight grip on your laptop. squeezing your computer to death wouldn’t erase the story, no matter how much you wished it would.

“hey.”

speak of the devil, you thought as you slammed your laptop shut. bewildered, sidney’s eyes ricocheted from your face, to your computer, and back to your face. “is… everything ok?” he asked, eyebrows raised. your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “are you looking at porn or something like that? ’cause you closed your laptop really fast.”

“no,” you said, unconvincingly. “just. stuff.”

“and what stuff might that be?” 

“nothing.” you scowled at your boyfriend, whose hands were drifting over to where your computer rested on your lap, like he wanted to open it and check for himself. “why does it matter to you?”

“well, if my girlfriend is looking at porn that obviously means i’m doing something wrong in bed that i should fix,” sid replied, smirking. “but, based off of last night, that can’t be the reason.”

you rolled your eyes and unlocked your computer without a word. 

sidney read the title aloud in an almost astonished tone, as though he couldn’t believe what he was reading. hearing the words leave his mouth made it a million times worse. by the time he was finished scrolling through the article, which you hadn’t even bothered to read in your guilt, you were lightheaded. you did catch a few phrases, though, which were all mean-spirited and reproachful: she’s using him for his money, arm candy, barely old enough to drink champagne, and all it did was make you want to vomit.

“it’s a bunch of bullshit, baby.” he kissed you on your forehead, stubble scratching your skin. “don’t stress out about it.”

“i’m not,” you argued. “like, at all. i was just worried that you… i don’t know… that you might agree with it. that i’m only with you for your money and fame.”

sidney cocked his head to the side. “i’m always begging you to let me pay for our dates, and you hate it when i do. also, when you met me for the first time, you had no idea who i was. maybe it was because you were tipsy, but it’s also because you’re not a clout chaser. why would i ever see eye to eye with them?”

“i don’t know.” you lowered your gaze, picking at your fingernails. now that you were thinking about it more, the declarations that the tabloid was leveling against you were all hollow. yes, you were young, and yes, sid was rich, but that wasn’t your primary goal for being in a relationship with him. regardless of his wealth, sid was an incredible boyfriend. he remembered all sorts of small details, like your favorite vacation you took as a child, the time you pulled two consecutive all-nighters and ran on pure spite and red bull energy drinks… the list could go on. nobody was as attentive as sid was. “i’m sorry, sid,” you apologized.

“you don’t have anything to be sorry for, baby.” sid touched your cheek, gently tugging you to face him. his brown eyes were full of worry. “i love you. please don’t ever think that i don’t.”

the corner of your mouth twitched. “i love you too, sid.”

“good. now get over here.” sid set your laptop down on the coffee table, then angled his body towards you. “it’s cold out and i need your body heat. that’s the whole reason why i came over here.”

which was a lie, because sid was the warmest-running person you’d ever met. but you didn’t care – you curled into sid’s arms and let his resolute hugs wash away the harsh accusations.

roadies are apart of hockey, you knew that when you started dating the sidney crosby. but said knowledge didn’t stop you from missing him a little extra sometimes. especially on those long and grueling roadies where you could only watch his interviews on the living room tv.

even wrapped in one of sid’s old penguins branded hoodies, the misery didn’t subside. the scent of his cologne, mixed with a certain musk and the detergent you used started going faint four days ago, and sidney had taken said cologne with him.

the man only owned one — barely functioning — bottle of his cologne with barely any liquid left in it. you might ask yourself, why? because you’d gifted him that bottle. it was engraved with his initials, a crisp s.c etched into the glass of the bottle.

you gave it to him and he took it everywhere with him. every single roadie, every vacation and every practice. for some reason that stupid cologne bottle was what had made you miss him so badly tonight.

so now here you were, curled up in one of sidney’s old hoodies on your obscenely large couch that he’d gotten for your shared apartment because ‘if you ever want to have a twenty foot long pull-out bed to roll around on.” which, no— you hadn’t ever wanted that, but it was in your living room now, and it was fluffy and comfortable so you weren’t complaining.

the tv was playing a youtube compilation called “sidney crosby best nhl goals” because you had decided you needed that certain kick of giddiness, because a certain someone was at practice right now and couldn’t answer his phone. to be honest, the weird dubstep playing in the background of the youtube video made you irk, so you turned the volume down only to be quite literally jumpscared by the vibration of your phone beside you.

sid 💝

are you okay?

you

i miss you :((

can’t wait till u come back home

sid 💝

i miss you too, baby

a grin spread across your face, cheeks warming up in an instant. even after two years of being with sid, he still managed to make you blush with the smallest actions.

you quickly replied to him with a picture of you in your current state, still cocooned up on the couch.

now he was the one smiling — only for a second though because geno was already nudging his side trying to get sid to go grab lunch with him.

“i hear they have good sandwiches.” he’d said, glancing over at sidney’s phone. “your wife?” geno followed up, raising an eyebrow.