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.

3 Ways to Know if You’re a Third Wheel — wikiHow

Jamiemoriartys

Summary: ”My house flooded. You think I could borrow a guest room for a while?”

”Uh,” Sid begins, reluctantly closing the front door, and that’s when another voice carries over from further inside the house: ”Who was it?”

Nate spins around so fast it’s a wonder he doesn’t fall over, and the cord of his monitor clatters down to Sid’s hardwood floor, but he doesn’t even really notice, because it’s Claude fucking Giroux who walks down the hallway just then, frowning at the tablet—Sid’s kindle, Nate recognises it—in his hands. He’s wearing sweats and a flannel, socked feet sliding against the wood.

”G,” Nate says because he doesn’t know what else to say. Claude looks up, his steps slowing to a stop, and he looks at Nate, at Sid, then at Nate again.

Sid sighs. ”It is Nate.”

”I can see that,” Claude says slowly.

Recommendation: I do love an outside POV. There’s just something about seeing how someone else views a relationship. And it’s even fucking funnier when that person is third wheeling HARD and doesn’t know it. Nathan McKinnon has a horrible day and has to temporarily move in with Sid, obviously, because they’re best friends and their houses share a goddam driveway. He doesn’t realize he’s being an absolute cockblock. NateMack is a disaster in this. So is Sid. Claude isn’t but he’s in love with Sid so what does that say about him. It’s perfect and hilarious.

Making the hockey boys try to spell Tkachuk is still the funniest thing the nhl social team has ever done

Getting it very very wrong is the funniest thing the hockey boys have ever done

STOP WITH THE HOT MICS THEY STRESS ME OUT

As Nate was showing the scar on his hand, all I could look at were those long fingers…

Top 5 ship dynamics

Golden Boy / Devoted Rat (Patrice / Brad, Larkin / Bertuzzi, NolPat / TK)

Achilles / Patroclus (Sid / Geno)

Horse Girl / Hot Best Friend (Sid / Tanger, E.J. / Landeskog)

Intense One Sided Rivalry / Guy Who Is Normal About Things (Sid / Claude, Draisaitl / Tkachuk)

Horny Hero Worship (Sid / literally everyone in the league but especially NateMack, Sid / Yzerman)

NATEMACK 50 GOALS

Knight

soft nate to the rescue!

After hours on the couch, a knock on your door pulled you from your warm cocoon in the deep corner of your couch. You trudged across your apartment and pulled the door open without checking the peephole. The immediate look on his face said he was about to go off; most likely something about you not answering your phone, not that you knew he called, or something about you disappearing. That flipped the second he saw you. You could have sworn Nate had a sixth sense, or maybe he was just the type to worry. Your face was tear-stained, you were sure there were tote-sized bags under your eyes, and exhaustion was eating you alive. You sniffled and stared at the man standing just outside your open front door. He took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly, his face softened, and he took a half step forward. “Hey,” he finally spoke gently.

His voice alone pushed tears into your eyes; you took another shaky breath leaning into him as he stepped into your space, pulling you against his solid frame. His hand moved up your back, cradling the back of your head gently as his other rubbed the middle of your back. You did your best not to sob right there with the door open into his powder blue shirt, but it was useless.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he hummed, his chest rumbling under your ear as he took a few steps backward, moving you further into your apartment, closing the door gently behind him. He held you, trying to keep you on your feet as you sobbed, his thumb rubbing slow, comforting circles at the base of your skull, his other strong-arm holding you against his body. “Here, let's just” Nate pulled you off the floor and took a seat on the cold hardwood right where you had been standing, leaving you to sit in his lap. He maneuvered you a little, your wet face pushed into his bare neck as he moved his arms around your body, slowly rocking you back and forth, letting your cry into him. Between the slow rocking of his body, the comforting motion of his hands, and gentle words, you finally started calming down a little. Nate let you pull back from him when you were ready; you knew you probably looked gross. Tears staining your face, snot mostly likely smeared on your face, just a visual disaster. Nate's eyes remained soft, he looked worried, but he was trying to hide it. “M’ sorry,” you mumbled, rubbing at your face a little harder than necessary. “Hey, gently,” Nate grabbed your hand, pulling your hand away from scrubbing your face. “Be gentle, okay.” You sniffled again, looking at him. “What happened?” he asked gently, his thumb rubbing the inside of your wrist. “He left,” You mumbled, tears welling again. “Fucker” Nate whispered, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, honey” Nate kissed your cheek, licking your tears off his lips. He knew all too well about your on-again, off-again boyfriend who was basically ruining your life. Nate hated him and never hesitated to tell you that, but he didn’t say anything now. “How about we get up and get you cleaned up a little?” He suggested. “You don't have to stay,” You tried to protest. “And leave you like this? You must be kidding.” You shook your head and buried your face into Nate's neck, feeling him moving and standing under you, still holding you in his lap. God bless hockey bodies. He knew your apartment almost as well as you did, so he carried you toward your bathroom, setting you on the counter. Opting to light a candle instead of turning off a light, he set it close, but not too close, then grabbed a washcloth. “I’m sorry about him being an asshole again,” Nate mumbled, getting the cloth wet with cold water. “M’ used to it,” you shrugged, picking at your nails. “You don't have to be; you deserve much better.” You shrugged again when Nate moved back in front of you, cleaning and cooling your face with the cloth, patting, not rubbing, so he didn't make the redness worse. “I mean it; you deserve better than that asshole” Nates' voice was laced with venom and hate. You reached out to his tense arm, your thumb slipping under the sleeve of his shirt where the skin was soft. “It’s okay, Nate,” You whispered. He sighed, pushing it out of his nose. “I worry about you; you deserve someone willing to give you anything you want all the time, no matter how silly,” He spoke softly, his empty hand coming to rest on your thigh. You swallowed, feeling tears in your eyes again. Nate leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss between your eyebrows. “You look tired,” he hummed, kissing the same spot again. “I am,” you confirmed. “Why don’t we get you to bed then, eh?” He gave a small smile. “Can you stay till I fall asleep?” “I was hoping to stay the night, so I can take you to breakfast,” He offered with a slight tilt of his head. “That works too” You smiled. Nate smiled, helping you off the counter and herding you toward your bed. You grabbed his hand, pulling you under the covers until he held you tight against his chest. He dropped another kiss to your hairline and said something about going to sleep, but it didn't register before you fell asleep tucked against your knight in shining armor.

“I mean it; you deserve better; I could give you better.”

zegras to the avs so he can become natemack's personal bdsm whipping boy/2C protege. thoughts?

Ya know. That is never a thought ive had but nate has a lot of stress that trevor could be very capable in relieving (while also adding to said stress but eh)

NATEMACK HATTIE IM UPPPPPPPP

NATEMACK 100 LETS FUCKING GO

cut to the cheese

Jamiemoriartys

Summary: “Not that I don’t like steak or anything but… Can we stop doing steak recipes now?” Coots asks. “I’m pretty sure Sidney Crosby isn’t watching our videos.”

Claude chokes a little, glaring at Coots.

Recommendation: Pure cuteness. Giroux and assorted Flyers (who aren’t Flyers in this) run a food youtube channel. Giroux is a Crosby fan despite himself. His friends and NateMack lowkey scheme to introduce them. Shenanigans happen. Well written and adorable, a good, fairly fast read.

OK, now that you know hockey (in this case I'm referring specifically to knowing who Nathan Mackinnon is) and mxgicdave's hockey player drawings, I want to say that one mxgicdave illustration of Natemack with blood in his mouth is like very Jason Grace core™, yknow based on vibes

But yeah, anyway that's all I was here to say (I'm sorry I'm deranged rn)

OMG I JUST WENT AND LOOKED YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY CORRECT???? RIGHT DOWN TO LIKE, THE EYE????? help me oh my GOD it's okay we support the derangedness in this part of town omg

this is making me want to write about hockey!Jason getting into fights HRNGH Jason who is seen as one of those guys who only hits when he absolutely needs to, never fights, who one day just fucking UNLOADS on some poor fucker who said the Wrong Thing on the Wrong Day. Jason literally biting through his mouth guard..... oh i'm THINKING THOUGHTS