#natemack

[definitelynotdomanique]

this MIGHT just be the hottest thing MacKinnon has ever done😵‍💫

[brainrot-palace]

He has experienced his first emotion! Tell him you’re proud of him rn

[babypuck]

does anyone have any good natemack fic recs 🙏 preferably tumblr but i'm open to anything atp

[ijustdontlikepeople]

Sidnate + Mythology Aesthetic as requested by @plethoriall

[merikaii]

i think we need to cuck chair natemack for this pathetic failing of his in this series. why is he letting the villains win. he deserves to be tied with his hands behind his back and forced to watch sidmack fuck instead of him

genuinely. genuinely. im so irritated with him right now, i alr started a natemack hookup @ olympics wip but he does NOT deserve what he gets in that. the most he should have is the cuck chair while mack gets his shit rocked, in no universe does natemac deserve the mackass while he's letting the possibility of a universe where the devil wins the stanley cup

[lebanese-thespian]

every time i see natemack on my screen i get so giddy and i go NAAAATEEE like i’m lucille bluth seeing gene parmesan

[finiteuniverse13]

sidnate au where they've been together for years in a secret relationship, their friends know and their teams are fairly certain of whats going on but aren't sure.

they're in the stanley cup finals against each other and decide that they'll reveal their relationship when the winner raises the cup.

it's an incredibly bittersweet feeling, to be so sad and angry about losing but so so so happy for their boyfriend to win. to have your mind and soul with your team in misery but your heart is practically screaming with joy.

winning team won't let the losing jersey in the locker room so the loser wears his boyfriend's jersey much to the chirping of both teams. the loser is only a little reluctant to have the other's name on them.

[avsonice]

Pretty

@fallinallincurls​ I promised this fic months ago and then lost all motivation to be a person so!

Nate had been different since he won the cup. A little less intense and softer on the edges. He seemed calm this off-season, more so than in past years. Time back home was good for him too. He liked to spend as much time at the house at the lake, near Sid, as possible.

Nate golfed a lot more this off-season than last, too, leaving early in the morning kissing you on the cheek before going and coming back a few hours later, his neck and face a little red from the sun and a blinding smile ready to talk about his round. And to gloat about beating Sid. It was another day like the rest. Nate woke you enough to tell you he was leaving, then came home to shower before settling onto the couch, laying his head in your lap, sighing, and getting comfortable. “How was your round baby?” you asked, rubbing your thumb over his forehead toward his temple. “It was okay, I shot kinda high, but we played with a few new guys who are in town to train,” Nate murmured with his eyes closed. Sid kept setting up early morning tee times, and they were starting to get to him. You admired the man lying in your lap for a few seconds letting your fingers wander over your face, tracing down his nose a few times, your thumb catching the corner of his lips. Nate made a content sound, lips pressing together a little before he slowly opened his eyes. “How was your day, honey?” He asked as you cupped his chin “Good, boring” Nate gave a soft smile, his eyes focusing on you. There was a long comforting pause between you two. You knew you were always invited to go with him and Sid; it was a long-standing silent offer. “What's going through that pretty head of yours?” Nate whispered. “Just thinking you're pretty,” you whispered back. Nate went a little wide-eyed, his breathing stopped a little. “W-what?” he asked, shocked. “I think you're pretty,” you repeated mindlessly, rubbing down the bridge of his nose with a light touch of your finger. Nate went quiet as soon as you noticed you stopped touching his face. “Did I say something wrong?” you asked, a hint of nervousness in your voice, hoping Nate didn't hear it. Nate sat up, sitting next to you. “No one has ever told me that,” He whispered, grabbing your hand. “Really?” you asked, rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand. Nate shook his head, eyes focused between your thigh and the couch cushion. Then he shrugged. “Nate,” You spoke softly, “Can you look at me?” His eyes lifted, and you watched his pupils dilate just a little as he focused on you. “You are very pretty, and I am very lucky I get to call you that” You smiled softly as his fingers twitched in your hand. “I like it,” he whispered. “D-do you think you could add that to the list of things you like to call me?” he asked. You nodded in response. “Wanna lay back down?” Nate moved slowly, his head resting on the pillow of your thighs. “I love you.” “Love you too, pretty boy.” Nates' cheeks turned pink as his lips picked up in a soft, content smile. You were definitely adding that to the list.