“i like being close to you. you’re warm.” & “what are you looking at?” with Alex Turcotte please 🙏🙏🙏🙏
he's a cuddlebug deep down i'm calling it.
“i like being close to you. you’re warm.” & “what are you looking at?” from this subtle smut list. part of my mini writing event, now closed!
alex turcotte x reader, rated g. fluff <33 he's a boob guy in this lol
alex didn't say much when he came home. he was clearly tired from a hard practice, running their drills over and over in preparation for playoffs. the oilers are tough, and on top of their playoff series they met this coming week, last game of the regular season.
suffice to say, alex is tired. his muscles ache in the shower, groaning around mumbled thanks while you scrub his back.
a little later he tucks himself into bed next to you, hair still damp from the shower, wearing nothing but boxers. he'd been icing something in his leg, splayed on the couch, rewatching old footage until the pain began to numb. but he was here now, tucked against your hip and staring at you with soft brown eyes.
"what're you looking at," you tease gently, moving your book to the side to look back at him. alex ducks his head, nuzzles his face a bit into your stomach. your hand lands in his hair, twirling a lock around your finger before you tease further, "alex,i asked you a question."
"just you, dumbass," he huffs back, a little grin forming on his lips. "like bein' close to you, y'r warm."
you can tell by the sluggish drag in his voice that he's tired. pitying him, and drawn away from the plot of your novel by now, you slide down in bed until your arms circle his shoulders. "better?" you ask, voice a gentle murmur against his crown.
alex's response is muffled but boyishly enthusiastic, his face resting snug against the swell of your breast. "mmhm, real happy here. g'night."
you close your eyes, then burst into giggles as he lets out an obnoxiously fake snore. "go to sleep, you're tired," you tell him, letting your shoulders drop as you get comfy.
it's quiet for a few moments before he mumbles again, "babe?"
with gentle fingers in his hair you respond, "yeah?"
"love you."
it's simple, just two words, but your heart soars in your chest and you're convinced alex can hear the uptick. he smiles against you, hand slipping under your tank top.
with one final goodnight kiss you whisper, "love you too baby."
I'm just drinking to call someone…. Ain't nobody's safe when I'm a little bit drunk
summary Julie gets obliterated drunk, flirts all over Alex when he picks her up, and he takes sweet care of her—getting her home, cleaning her up, and letting her pull him into bed. They wake up tangled together with his hand near her ass, both pretending nothing happened… but neither pulling away.
Julie Caufield was obliterated.
Not tipsy. Not cute-drunk.
Gone.
Astral-projecting.
Belligerently affectionate.
She clung to Ines Kopitar shoulder like a baby sloth, giggling at the ceiling lights because she swore they were “twinkling on beat.”
“I think—I think the room is… dancing.” Julie announced proudly, pointing upward.
Ines sighed, rubbing her forehead. “You’re hammered.”
“I’m liquefied,” Julie corrected, leaning so far forward she nearly face-planted onto the table. “Like a smoothie.”
“Okay,” The older woman muttered. “Time to call Alex.”
Julie gasped so loudly people turned to look.
“NO! No, no-no-no-no,” she slurred, grabbing Ines wrist. “You can’t call Alex. He’ll see me like thiiiis.” She waved a floppy hand down her body. “And then he’ll think I’m—” she hiccupped— “a mess. A cute mess. But a mess.”
Ines rolled her eyes and called him anyway.
Alex answered instantly.
“Hello? Jules? Everything okay?”
Julie lunged for the phone like a piranha.
“Tuuurrrcooottteeee,” she sang into the speaker.
He paused. “Oh shit.”
She nodded vigorously even though he couldn’t see her. “Yeah. Yup. That. I’m— I’m very… alphabet.”
“You mean inebriated?”
“That one.”
“Where are you?” he asked, already grabbing his keys.
Julie leaned her entire upper body over Cat Toffoli’s lap and whisper-yelled into the phone, “I’m at— at— at a bar. The one with a door.”
“Jules, they all have—”
“WELL THIS ONE HAS TWO,” she shrieked, delighted at her own discovery.
Ines took the phone back before Julie broke the poor guys ear drum.
“Alex,” she sighed. “Please come get her.”
⸻
Alex arrived fast. Too fast. The kind of fast that said he left in the middle of something and didn’t care.
Julie saw him and nearly burst into tears.
“TURCOTTE,” she wailed. “YOU CAME FOR ME. THAT’S SO HOT.”
He blinked, then laughed despite himself. “Oh boy.”
She tried to run to him but her heel got stuck on absolutely nothing and she pitched forward. He caught her mid-fall, hands firm around her waist.
“Ooooh,” she giggled, poking his cheek. “You’re so handsome. It’s unfair.”
He picked her up bridal-style because walking was not an option. “Jules, you smell like a distillery.”
“I smell FUN.”
“You smell feral.”
“That too.”
He buckled her into the car and she immediately turned sideways in the seat to stare at him, eyes heavy-lidded, smile sloppy.
“You shouldn’t,” she slurred softly, “be allowed to have that jawline when I’m drunk. It’s dangerous.”
He choked. “Julie—”
“And your arms? Rude.”
“You’re drunk.”
“And you’re hottttt.”
He groaned. “Jules. You’re my best friend’s sister.”
“COLE ISN’T HERE,” she said triumphantly. “He can’t seeeee.”
“That’s not the point.”
“I think it should be the point.”
He tightened his grip on the wheel. “Seatbelt stays on.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “But you’re very pretty and I want to bite your—” she hiccupped— “neck.”
Alex physically swerved. “Jesus, Julie.”
⸻
At the apartment, she stumbled the second her feet hit the ground, so he scooped her into his arms again. She curled her fingers into his hoodie like a child.
“You’re so strong,” she whispered reverently.
“You weigh like two wet towels right now.”
“I LOVE TOWELS,” she shouted.
“Okay, sweetheart, let’s get you inside.”
She gasped. “Did you just call me sweetheart?”
He blushed. “Slip of the tongue.”
“I LIKE IT,” she declared loudly.
Inside, she clung to his hoodie strings like reins. “To the bathroom!” she demanded.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He sat her on the counter. Her legs swung wildly, hitting his thigh twice. She giggled harder each time.
“Let’s get your makeup off,” he said, grabbing wipes.
“Noooo,” she whined, “you’ll see my real face.”
“I see your real face every day.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“And you still like me?”
He froze. “…Of course I do.”
Her eyes softened, droopy and sincere. “You’re good to me.”
He swallowed. “You’re important to me, Jules.”
She blinked slowly like his words physically warmed her.
He wiped her makeup gently, like she was fragile glass. Her breathing slowed. Her eyelids fluttered.
“You’re so pretty,” she whispered.
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m not,” she insisted.
He laughed. “Yeah. You are.”
When he reached for her dress zipper, she threw both arms up dramatically.
“PEEL ME LIKE A BANANA.”
“Oh my god,” he muttered, mortified. “Julie—just—lift your arms.”
He tugged the dress over her head, immediately turning his body away as she ended up sitting there in just a bra and panties.
“Stop being shy,” she teased.
“You’re undressed,” he muttered.
“I trust you. And also I’m too drunk to stand up.”
He sighed and helped her into one of his softest shirts. It fell past her thighs. She looked small, warm, and heartbreakingly adorable.
“Your bed now,” he said.
“No.”
“No?”
She grabbed his hoodie string. “Our bed.”
“Julie—”
“Turcotte, I swear to GOD, if you leave me alone I will die dramatically on the floor.”
He snorted. “Okay, okay.”
She hauled him onto the bed with surprising strength for someone who barely had object permanence right now. She curled against him instantly, face buried in his chest, leg draped over his thigh.
“Mm,” she mumbled. “You’re comfy.”
He froze, every muscle tense. “Jules… remember you’re drunk.”
“Yes,” she said into his shirt. “And you’re warm.”
He wrapped an arm around her because resisting was physically impossible.
She fell asleep within minutes.
He didn’t sleep for a long time.
⸻
The next Morning, Julie awoke to soft sunlight and… warmth.
Arms. Muscles.
A chest underneath her head.
A breath against her hair.
And a hand.
Under her ass.
Firmly.
She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Alex stirred behind her, inhaled—
—and froze.
“Oh my god,” he whispered, mortified. “Julie, I—I didn’t mean to—shit—”
She grabbed his hand before he moved it to far and placed it on her hip.
“It’s okay,” she murmured, cheeks warm.
He stilled. “…Yeah?”
She nodded, pressing back into him.
“Yeah.”
Alex exhaled shakily against her neck.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them let go.
Neither of them asked the question hanging between them.
They just stayed there—
Closer than best friends.
Closer than roommates.
Closer than either of them would ever admit sober.
Corn Maze - Jack Hughes ft Friends (TZ, CC, JD & AT)
It was a crisp autumn afternoon when Jack Hughes and his friends found themselves standing at the entrance of Smith’s Pumpkin Patch and Corn Maze. The sun beamed down lazily, casting long shadows as they eyed the towering stalks of corn that loomed before them.
Jack, ever the instigator, grinned widely. “Alright, team! First one to the end of the maze buys dinner!”
Trevor Zegras, leaning back casually with his arms crossed, chuckled. “You say that like any of us will want to pay you after we find our way out. Let’s see who’s best at getting lost!”
Dani, Jack’s girlfriend, rolled her eyes playfully. “How about we focus on teamwork instead of making this a competition? We’ll never hear the end of it if one of you loses, anyway.”
Cole Caufield, who had been squinting at the map in his hands, suddenly interjected, “Come on, guys. Let’s just follow my lead and we’ll be out in no time.” He tilted the map and pointed dramatically toward the maze. “This way!”
As they ventured deeper into the maze, laughter echoed in the air. Jamie Drysdale and Alex Turcotte were deep in conversation, debating over who could pull off the best corn-themed Halloween costume. Jamie waved his arms animatedly, “Trust me, a cornstalk costume would be iconic! I could even add a few LED lights.”
“Or you could be a scarecrow,” Alex shot back, trying to contain his laughter. “That way you wouldn’t scare anyone away—just look like an overgrown kid.”
Meanwhile, Jack and Dani walked slightly behind the group, sharing whispered jokes while keeping an eye on their friends. The golden light filtered through the leaves, making Dani’s hair shimmer as she smiled up at Jack. “This is nice,” she said, her voice soft. “Just spending time with everyone.”
“Right?” Jack replied, his eyes sparkling. “We should do this more often.” Just as he said that, the group’s banter grew louder as they turned a corner.
Suddenly, Trevor let out an exasperated grunt. “I thought we’d been this way before!” The other boys looked around, realizing they were faced with the same fork in the path for the third time.
Cole sighed dramatically. “Anyone got a compass? This is worse than that time we got lost at the fair.”
“Alright, alright,” Jack smirked, taking charge. “Let’s split up. Dani and I will go this way.” He pointed down a narrow path. “You guys go that way. Whoever finds the exit first comes back for the rest.”
“Brilliant idea, Hughes!” Trevor smirked. “See you losers later!”
With quick waves and persuasive “no cheating!” remarks, the group went their separate ways. Jack and Dani walked hand-in-hand through the maze, laughing while occasionally stopping to admire the vibrant corn husks framing their path.
“Think they’ll really find the way out?” Dani asked, peering over her shoulder.
Jack shrugged. “With Trevor leading? It could go either way! Just look for the sound of yelling.”
The pair continued meandering through the intricate twists and turns, enjoying the peace that the maze offered. A few wrong turns, a couple of close calls with scarecrows, and a few well-placed selfies later, they finally stumbled upon an actual sign pointing to the exit.
“Guess we win!” Jack exclaimed, exuberant like a kid on Christmas morning.
But just as they began to think they had an easy route out, Trevor’s voice echoed from behind, “Jack! Dani! We’re lost again!”
“Seriously?” Dani laughed. “We’ve been wandering around longer than I’d like to admit!”
Jack leaned against a cornstalk, laughing harder than he’d intended. “I’m starting to believe the fans when they say you and me are the parents in this group.”
Finally, after what felt like hours filled with laughs, misplaced directions, and the occasional discovery of a hidden snack stand, the whole crew found their way to the exit. They emerged into the fading sunlight, faces flushed and exhilarated.
“I love this!” Jamie said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do this again next year, but you guys better bring your A-game next time.”
As they all chimed in with agreement, Jack felt a warmth blossom in his chest. Moments like this—with friends, laughter, and Dani beside him—were what life was all about. Content, he watched the sun dip below the horizon, the world surrounding them painted in hues of orange and gold, and knew this was just the beginning of many more adventures.
The golden hues of the setting sun spilled across the sky, casting a warm autumn glow over the farmhouse-style home where Trevor Zegras and his fiancée had planned the perfect harvest-themed dinner. The air was crisp, and the smell of roasted vegetables, spiced cider, and freshly baked bread wafted through the house. The large wooden dining table in the backyard was decorated with pumpkins, candles, and scattered leaves—everything about the evening screamed fall.
Trevor stood outside teasing Jack Hughes, who was trying—and failing—to carve a mini pumpkin with a butter knife. Jack’s girlfriend, sitting beside him, laughed at his futile efforts. “Jack, it’s a centerpiece, not a hockey puck!”
Nearby, Cole Caufield and his older brother Brock were debating the best football teams of the season. “I’m telling you, Michigan’s defense is rock-solid this year,” Brock insisted, while Cole playfully nudged him.
Jamie Drysdale and his older brother Charlie were huddled together with Alex Turcotte and Patrick Moynihan, brainstorming pranks to pull on Jack and Trevor later, though they kept their plans hushed. They exchanged quick glances, as if they already had a scheme brewing.
Inside the house, Trevor’s fiancée and his younger siblings, Ava and Griffin, were finishing up the last of the sides—mashed sweet potatoes, roasted Brussels sprouts, and a pear-and-goat-cheese salad. Ava, with her apron on, was carefully placing warm rolls in a basket while Griffin hovered nearby, sneaking bites of everything before it hit the table.
As everyone gathered around, the golden light from the lanterns hanging above the table bathed them all in a soft glow. There was laughter, the sound of clinking glasses, and the occasional joke thrown at whoever was unlucky enough to be the topic at the moment.
Trevor finally sat down, sliding into the seat next to his fiancée, who smiled warmly at him. “Everything looks perfect,” he said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. She smiled, grateful for the warmth of the evening and the company of their closest friends and family.
Jack, having given up on the pumpkin carving, raised his cider. “To good friends, good food, and surviving another day without one of Trevor’s pranks.”
Everyone laughed, and Cole, not one to miss out on teasing, added, “Yeah, and surviving whatever Charlie and Jamie have planned for later.”
The night continued with stories, laughter, and the warm feeling of fall wrapping around them like the thick blankets draped on the chairs. As the evening wore on and the last bites of pumpkin pie were eaten, Trevor looked around at the faces of his friends and family, and couldn’t help but feel grateful. It was one of those nights that made everything else fade away, leaving only the warmth of friendship, love, and the perfect fall night under a blanket of stars.
