#clayton keller fic

[chukys-mouthguard]

Don’t Be a Scrooge

day 4 of the 2024 NHL advent calendar 🎄

-> 1.7k words

genre -> angst/fluff

featuring -> clayton keller x female reader

summary -> when one of your social media challenges for the utah hockey club gets on clayton’s last nerve, he finds himself working to pull off a christmas miracle to make it up to you

Just one guy left, you thought to yourself as you reset the materials for the latest challenge you were putting the team through. The gingerbread house making was a bit too messy of a cleanup, so you opted for something simple: gift wrapping.

How hard could this group of guys actually make wrapping gifts?

As you grabbed a gift from the table of toys that had been donated at a recent home game, Clayton walked in the room with a nervous smile.

“And what the heck are we up to today?”

He set his water bottle down as he found his place at the table in front of the cameras. His eyes scanned all the materials as you handed him the gift he would be wrapping.

“Easy challenge today, wrapping a gift.”

You smiled as he took the toy from you, shaking his head as he clearly knew something you didn’t in regards to his wrapping skills.

“This is gonna be fun…”

His voice trailed off as he waited for the cameras to roll and further instruction to be given.

“Okay Clayton, we are giving you five minutes to wrap this gift. You can use any of the materials on the table. Are you ready?”

“No.”

He laughed as you rolled your eyes, Clayton was never the biggest fan of the social media challenges and games you put him through, but he always pushed through anyways.

“Too bad. Go!”

You started a timer on your phone as Clayton frantically reached for the wrapping paper, immediately unraveling too much of the material and regretting that decision.

“Oh god, um, crap.”

You laughed knowing Clayton wanted to drop an f bomb or two, enjoying his struggle a bit too much as he tried holding the paper to the gift while he searched the table for tape.

“Two minutes left Clayton.”

He groaned as he began wrapping the paper around the gift haphazardly, ripping pieces of tape and slapping them onto the gift as an attempt to hold things together.

“Sixty seconds!”

You watched as Clayton immediately became flustered, an angered look on his face as he slammed his hands on the table in defeat as you called time. A sigh left his lips as you asked him to show the present to the camera, revealing his awful wrapping skills.

“Can we be done with this?”

His tone was harsh as he looked at you, practically begging to cut the cameras.

“Okay guys, cut. That’s a wrap for today.”

Clayton dropped the gift to the table as he quickly made his way out of the room to head off for practice.

“Shit is so stupid…who comes up with these dumb challenges?”

You hung your head hearing him spit out such things, taking it to heart though you knew you shouldn’t. Clayton never having been of fan of the social media extracurriculars. But it still heart knowing it was your idea for the gift wrapping and he hated every second of it.

It wasn’t a secret among the staff, and some of Clayton’s teammates that you’d always had a soft spot for him. But you did your best to hide it from him, especially since he wasn’t always thrilled when he came around knowing you were probably going to be putting him through something silly or ridiculous.

“Hey, there he is! How’d you do?”

Nick Schmaltz called out as Clayton entered the locker room to get ready for practice. Clayton simply rolled his eyes as he took a seat in his stall.

“Shit is so stupid, who keeps coming up with these ideas? First gingerbread house making, now gift wrapping. So annoying.”

Nick motioned for Clayton to keep quiet, as he hadn’t noticed that you entered the locker room having heard all of Clayton’s comments.

“What?”

Clayton turned to find you standing there, holding out his phone for him. A somewhat somber look on your face as he took it from your hand.

“Thanks.”

“You know if you didn’t want to participate in the stupid social media shit, no one is forcing you. It’s all optional.”

Clayton stood confused by your annoyed tone as you quickly left the locker room, shaking his head as he tossed his phone into his stall.

“Boy you did it this time Clayton.”

“Huh?”

“You realize y/n is the one who comes up with all the challenges and stuff you called stupid. Guarantee she doesn’t feature you for at least two weeks after that.”

Nick shook his head as he grabbed his foam roller to go stretch before practice, Clayton immediately cursing himself for being so stupid. He should have known you were involved in creating those challenges, and he never should have said the comments he did. Feeling awful that he’d clearly hurt your feelings, knowing he had to make up for being such a dick.

“Wait Nick, holdup!”

Clayton ran after his teammate, joining him for stretching as he tried to come up with a plan for fixing his fuck up.

“You got y/n for the secret santa right?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Entering the ballroom, you smiled wide at the amazing turnout for the first ever Utah Hockey Club Holiday Fundraiser. The room was decorated super festive, and players were scattered around taking advantage of all the opportunities to bond with children that were attending from the local children’s hospital.

Immediately you pulled out your phone to begin gathering content for the social media pages; photos and videos galore as you stumbled upon Clayton.

He was helping a young boy decorate a gingerbread house, a funny coincidence after his outburst earlier where he mentioned hating that challenge you’d given the guys.

You tried to go unnoticed as you took some pictures and video, but you couldn’t help the smile on your face seeing the interaction.

“Ugh, this is so stupid!”

The young boy groaned in frustration as the walls to the gingerbread house collapsed, all of his work being erased immediately. Clayton didn’t hesitate to step in and try to help quickly rectify things, despite the boy pushing the house away in anger.

“Hey hey, it’s okay man! Look, sometimes things are gonna be difficult. And we might not always enjoy them, simply because we aren’t good at them, or they aren’t easy. But that’s no reason to get angry right? That’s no reason to give up just because it gets tough. Let’s try again, and maybe we use some of these things to help hold the house together, how does that sound?”

You weren’t sure if that speech was Clayton’s way of trying to apologize to you, or him just acknowledging his actions from earlier. But either way, it meant a lot to see the interaction and how he worked to turn the young boy’s attitude around.

Clayton watched you head off into the crowd, happy that you’d gotten to see his interaction with the young fan. Hoping that it was a start at making up for his outburst over your social media challenges.

As soon as he wrapped up with the young fan, he knew he had to come find you, a further apology definitely necessary.

“Y/n, hey! Can I steal you for a second?”

Clayton pulled you outside of the ballroom, immediately nervous as he didn’t know how to apologize. Having felt stupid all day for saying things he didn’t mean solely because he wasn’t good at the challenges.

“Look, I should’ve never said those things. It was dumb of me to have such a childish outburst solely because I couldn’t wrap a fucking present. I should’ve known you had a say in the challenges, and I didn’t mean anything I said. I’m really sorry.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how nervous he was apologizing, the wringing of his hands and swaying back and forth only making it cuter how he was trying hard to say the right thing.

“I appreciate it, I do. I shouldn’t have been so hurt by what you said, but, your opinions just mean a little more to me I guess. And it hurt that you felt so strongly about everything.”

“I’ve started to realize that, especially because your feelings mean a lot to me. And seeing how I’d hurt you, made me feel awful. So, hopefully this will also make up for my stupidity.”

Clayton pulled a small box from his pocket, wrapped with a bright red bow as he smiled at you.

“What’s this?”

You tried to hide the blush that was creeping on your cheeks, taking the box from his hand as you slowly opened it to reveal a gold chain necklace with ‘Utah’ written in script. You looked at Clayton with a slight frown, the gift meaning so much as you’d told Clayton your favorite everyday gold chain necklace had broken a few weeks ago. Not thinking he would’ve ever taken it upon himself to replace it for you.

“This is really special Clayton, thank you! But, why? Just because?”

He awkwardly rubbed his neck as he shrugged.

“I, actually had you for secret santa.”

“Really?”

You tried hide your laughter, little did Clayton know you’d caught him in a lie. But you figured this was his way of trying to make sure he could apologize and make up for everything.

“Yeah, I know you aren’t supposed to tell who you get, but I felt it was appropriate considering.”

Nodding your head he caught on to your giggling, a confused look on his face as he wasn’t sure what joke he was clearly missing.

“What? You don’t like it?”

“No! I love it! It’s just, I know you didn’t have me in secret santa….you switched with Nick didn’t you?”

His face turned red as he didn’t know what to say, of course you were in charge of secret santa because why wouldn’t you be? He should’ve known that this plan wouldn’t go over seamlessly.

“Dammit, I can’t get anything past you can I?”

“You do realize that you could’ve just given me the gift regardless right?”

“Well now that you mention it I very much realize that, but, look I’m sorry! I just couldn’t have you being mad at me. I like you too much.”

He smiled at you as you tucked the gift box into your bag, the two of you needing to get back to the fundraiser.

“We’ll see how much you like me when you see what challenge I have boys doing next week!”

[ilyasorokinn]

Omg yay I have two ideas could you maybe do something about Clayton being a dad? And maybe a smut too. I wish more people would write for him more. He is so underrated 😁

FAN FAVORITE

this was inspired by that one video of kmag (f1) and his daughter. she was on a little scooter and saw someone trying to get her dad's attention, and helped the fan get his attention. little magnussun is so cute, and I'll miss kmag :( also, there's no smut because i don't write smut

tw: kids/children

the move from arizona to utah was one you were still trying to figure out. moving in general was confusing and hard, but moving with a toddler was something else.

gracie was still confused about why you were moving, but you and clayton tried to explain it to her in the simplest way possible. you were moving states for dad to play sticks.

arriving in utah, you got settled in nicely. it was still an adjustment, after having spent so many years in arizona, but utah welcomed you with open arms.

"i get to walk with daddy?" gracie asked as you put her hair up in a two pigtails.

"uh-huh." you nodded, "and you'll get to see all the fans, and take pictures." if there was one thing about gracie, she loved attention and loved taking pictures.

"pictures?" she perked up at that.

"yeah!" you nodded, tying off the hairtie and looking at her in the mirror, "are you excited?"

she nodded, "wanna go now." she demanded.

"alright, let's go find daddy and we'll be on our way." you hiked her up your hip and walked into the bathroom where clayton was getting ready.

"there are my girls." he beamed happily, setting down whatever he was doing and opening his arms.

you handed gracie over to him, smiling when he peppered her face with kisses and making her giggle, "you excited for today, gg?" he asked.

she nodded her head rapidly, "i'm gonna get my pictures taken, daddy."

he gasped, "are you?" she nodded again, “well, let’s get going.” he rearranged her in his arms and started running around the room, pretending she was a plane.

you smiled, gathering all your things and following them outside to your car, “bye, gg. i’ll see you there.” you waved to her and kissed her head.

“bye, mommy.” she blew you a kiss as clayton buckled her into her car seat.

"are you ready, gracie girl?" clayton asked, looking at her through the mirror.

"yeah!" she wiggled around in her seat.

"alright, let's go." he quickly switched gears and pulled out of the garage.

they quickly arrived at the arena, made their way through security, and were led to the front of the arena, where a carpet was set out, and a swarm of fans on either side of the carpet.

clayton hiked her further up his hip as they looked out the window at all the fans, "look at all the cameras, gracie." he couldn't help but smile at the look of awe on her face.

"wow." she looked up at him and flashed him a little toothy smile.

"and look, there's mommy." he finally spotted you and pointed down to where you were standing. gracie found you easily and waved at you.

you smiled and waved back, blowing her a kiss. she blew one back then looked back at clayton, "can we go down and see mommy?"

"what? you already tired of me." he joked. he kissed her head, "we're gonna see her soon, gg."

after all the players had arrived, they were led down to the carpet, and they walked out one by one. gracie held onto clayton's hand and smiled for all the cameras as clayton began signing autographs.

he waved to fans, took as many pictures as he could. gracie was smiling and waving to the fans too and could hear someone trying to get her dad's attention.

she looked over at her dad and could see he couldn't hear, so she decided to help. she tapped on his leg, and when that didn't work, she started gently tugging at his pant leg.

he looked down at her, and followed her finger when he pointed to the fan trying to get his attention. he smiled and made his way over to the fan, signing her jersey and taking a picture with her.

clayton held out his hand for gracie, who grabbed it and the two began walking away, but not before gracie looked back at the fan and blew her a little kiss.

after the game, you were in bed, waiting for clayton to join you, and scrolling through different apps. while on tiktok, you scrolled past a video with a little girl who looked very familiar.

"clay." you called out, and he popped his head out of the bathroom, "i think our girl is famous." you joked, turning your phone around to show him the tiktok.

it was a video of the interaction from earlier from a fan behind the girl. the comments were all calling gracie adorable and thought she was the cutest, all of which melted your heart.

"careful, clay, gracie's coming for your spotlight."

requests are open!

[zzbubblegumbitchzz]

clayton brain rot.

cw: kinda sacrilegious, innocent kink i guess, domish Clayton, pet names (sir, baby, pretty baby)

thinking real hard about Clay’s sweet innocent wife. ya know the wife who stares at his pretty hands and the cross that dangles on his neck.

Clay notices too, he always noticed you. Notices how your thighs push together a little harder and you try to hide it by crossing your legs, notices how you stare hard at his chest when he’s running down the stairs of your home.

“whatcha staring at today, pretty baby?” he’s chuckling while he asks, he almost makes it sound like a joke. like you should be humiliated for thinking some filthy things about your husband.

your cheeks heat and your eyes quickly look away. no words come out, your face just riddled with embarrassment.

“now you’re getting shy on me,” he’s finally sitting down. “Come here a minute.”

once your standing in front of him, he’s pushing you further onto your knees. fully ignoring the whines of complaint coming from your mouth.

“oh baby, now that’s not how we treat our husbands is it?”

“no, sir.”

“that’s right. now what were you staring at? was it the necklace this time? thinking about how good it felt between your legs? or how about the way you cried while it was in your mouth and i was buried all the way to the hilt? bet it was both.”

[nhl-stories]

Rue – Clayton Keller

Summary: Ines has a bit of a dilemma, marry her ex-boyfriend or get deported

Author’s Note: I don't even go here but an anon suggested Clayton and I ran with it and loved every moment. This is obviously a dramatized version of immigration in America, while I tried to keep aspects as authentic as possible, I also took creative liberties to fit the story.

Also his mom's name is Kelley Keller and that is just so insane to me

Word Count: 9.2k

Album Series Masterlist

Don't wanna make it worse I'm gonna make it work

“What if you married Clayton?”

“You think marrying my ex-boyfriend for a green card is the answer?”

Ines doesn’t mean to raise her voice; Kat is just trying to help. But it’s been a long 24 hours and she can’t really control her emotions anymore.

“I think there should be reformed paths to citizenship. But that’s not going to happen in the immediate future, so I’m spit balling here.”

Ines flops face down on couch cushion and screams.

“I don’t hear you coming up with any better solutions,” Kat adds.

She lifts her head in shock, “You’re being serious?”

“Kat’s serious about what?” Nick comes back with drinks, his solution for comforting Ines.

“Nez should marry Kells for a green card,” Kat keeps saying it like it’s realistic.

Nick ponders the idea for a moment and shrugs, “It’s not the worst idea.”

“I’m just in a hellish nightmare, I’ll wake up and everything will be normal and everyone will be sane,” Ines rubs her temples.

Kat rubs her shoulder and nudges the drink closer to her.

Ines downs the drink and Schmaltzy passes his own drink before retreating for refills.

“I know it just happened, but have you thought at all what you’re going to do?”

“I mean, I’ve spent my whole life thinking about what I would need to do, it’s just never been so real.”

Ines feels a fresh batch of tears coming, she takes another drink to push them back. Nick comes back with a pitcher of drinks this time, clearly sensing where this night is headed.

“Didn’t one of your sisters have immigration problems?” Nick asks as he pours her a refill.

“Sort of, but it only came up because she was getting married and applying for a green card.”

Kat opens her mouth and Ines shoot hers a glare, “to the man she loves who happened to be an American citizen.”

 “Yeah, well, you kind of still love Clayton,” Kat mumbles, “I mean you guys still have pretty regular sex right, Nick?”

Ines turns her boiling anger towards Schmaltzy, “Oh my god, he told you we were having sex?!”

“No, you told her,” he points towards Kat, “and she told me, Kells hasn’t said anything.”

“We don’t do it that often.”

She huffs defensively before squeezing her eyes shut, hoping to return from whatever alternative universe she stumbled into.

“I know the idea sounds insane but think about it, you have all these pictures of you two together, you never made some big breakup announcement or anything, and you still live with him.”

“I mean it would be pretty hard to prove that you aren’t together,” Nick adds.

“From what you’ve told me about this babe, marrying someone is the easiest way for you to get on the right track for citizenship without having to go back to Mexico, where you might not be allowed back.”

She knows Kat is right, that she’s making an excellent case, but that doesn’t make the idea any easier to swallow.

“There’s not enough alcohol in the world.”

Ines spends the next couple hours putting that theory to the test; she doesn’t process much, too busy preserving her brain in alcohol. She loses track of time, of what she should be feeling.

The alcohol makes her feel warm and giddy, but her brain is screaming at her to feels anxious and alert. The mix of the emotion just leaves her a sobbing mess, curled up in Kat’s arms.

Then she hears a shuffle at the door followed by Clayton’s voice.

“You told him?! Oh my god,” she buries herself further into Kat.

“We called him to take you home, we thought you’d prefer to wake up in your own bed.”

Nick is speaking to him in hushed tones and Ines is immediately suspicious.

“I don’t need you to marry me, arcilla, I’ll be fine in Mexico,” her filter is non-existent at this point but somehow, she can still talk this much through her tears and inebriation.

“What is she talking about?” Schmaltzy clearly didn’t spill the beans.

Kat sits up, cradling Ines off to the side, like she’s a child who’s not supposed to hear an adult conversation. Even one this pertinent to her.

“Someone found out she doesn’t have legal citizenship and he’s probably going to report her.”

“What the fuck,” Clayton feels every muscle in his body tense.

“And these two idiots think you should marry me so I can get a green card.”

“Oh.”

Clayton’s never been great with big emotions, and Ines’ tears mixed with her words has his brain frazzled. He came thinking he was just being the DD for Ines, not DD for Ines in distress.

“Nez, babe, why don’t we table this for tonight. Let Kells take you back to your own bed and sleep it off. We’ll start fresh tomorrow,” Kat gently moves some hair behind Ines’ hear.

Ines doesn’t respond, just stands up and follows Clayton to his car on wobbly legs.

The drive isn’t far, but Clayton still feels like he has to say something, anything. He can’t find the words; they aren’t his strong suit. So instead, he wordlessly reaches across the console and grabs Ines’ hand.

⁄⁄⁄

The sun pours through her curtains with a vengeance; telling her it’s pretty late in the morning without even needing to open her eyes. Normally, she would hate wasting most of her day away in bed, but sleeping is a nice escape; not just from reality but from the pounding headache she feels behind her eyes.

Ines flips onto her back and throws an arm over her eyes, debating whether getting up and eating something is better than sleeping more.

Clayton makes the decision for her with a knock on the door, he sheepishly pokes his head in before coming to sit at the end of the bed. Offering up a bag of food, which Ines greedily takes knowing it contains her favorite breakfast sandwich.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she moans after taking a bite, digging into the bag to grab the extra hot sauce she knows Clayton didn’t forget.

She looks up and chokes on her sandwich.

Clayton is holding open a ring box with a diamond ring.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I talked to Schmaltzy and Kat this morning and you know, I think they’re right. Getting married to me is gonna be the easiest way for you stay in the country.”

“And ruin your life.”

“How will being married to you be that much different than it is now?”

He makes a good point. They broke up before the last off-season and he had offered to let her stay in his house since he would be traveling for a big chunk of the summer. Not worry about finding a new place while she got back on her feet. That was months ago and she’s still here, cooking him meals, cleaning up around the house, having sex with him.

The only real difference is she has her own room now.

“I don’t know, legal paperwork, maybe me being detained by ICE, you being shackled to me for god knows how long, probably two years at least. What if you meet someone?”

“I’m a professional athlete, I don’t think people would be to shocked if I cheated on you.”

Ines isn’t impressed by his attempt at a joke.

“This isn’t fair to you.”

“And it’s fair that you have to move back to a country you barely remember living in?”

He has a single-mindedness that no amount argument will sway. Especially while Ines is in this hungover state.

“Okay, Mr. Machismo, where’d you get the ring?”

“I– um– got it this morning, Kat helped pick it out. You know, need some proof this is real. And before you freak, I bought it with cash so there’s no paper trail or whatever.”

“Christ, you really thought this through?”

“You always told me it could be a possibility, so you know, I thought about what I’d do, especially when we were actually together.”

The look on his face makes her want to cry. He’s so sure; certain that she’s worth the effort, was worth having an escape plan for her.

“I know it’s crazy, but I’d hate to just sit by and watch you get torn away from your life when I could do something.”

“Okay,” Ines’ voice cracks, wet through the tears she can’t hold in anymore, “If you’re sure.”

Clayton nods, plucks the ring out of the box and holds it out on his palm for her; it seems too intimate or too sacrilegious for him to slip it on for her.

“I’ll call my immigration lawyer,” she twists the ring on her finger.

⁄⁄⁄

“Hola Ines!” Sierra, her immigration lawyer squeezes her tightly.

“And this must be the famous tonelada de arcilla,” Sierra grins at Clayton and shakes his hand.

“I can’t believe she told you that,” Ines grumbles as she takes a seat.

“Soledad couldn’t keep her big mouth shut if she tried,” Sierra moves to the other side of her desk, “besides I love your mom’s inability to understand American names, like Ashton.”

“Oh yeah, tonelada de ceniza,” Ines giggles.

“You’re saying I’m not special?” Clayton smirks.

“You’re very special mi arcilla,” she bumps his knee with her own.

“So, we’re here to talk about a marriage green card?” Sierra gets to business.

“We got engaged right before this, but now some asshole is threatening to report Nez’ status to immigration. So it sounds fishy, but we just want to start the process before anything happens.”

Ines nods with a tight smile. She was expecting Clayton to be here for moral support, not for him to take the lead.

“Okay, so we don’t know if he’s reported anything or if ICE will even investigate you. But since you work for a political organization that isn’t exactly beloved in Arizona, we’ll prepare for the worst.”

Instinctively, Clayton reaches out to hold Ines’ hand, stop her from fidgeting before she even starts.

Sierra looks at her watch, “we probably don’t have time to get you married today, but definitely can get your license today. It’s probably for the best, since this is kind of rush job you’ll probably want to dress up, have some friends as witnesses, make it clear this is above the board.”

Ines squeezes Clayton’s hand. Sierra is too busy shuffling through papers to notice any nerves, or maybe she’s just used to it.

“How’s that sound? Married by tomorrow, try to finish the paperwork in the next couple weeks?”

“Um- what about signing a pre-nup?” Clayton snaps his head towards Ines, “I mean I know it’s best if we have like joint accounts to show it’s legit or that I won’t end up on welfare immediately, but most people aren’t marrying millionaires.”

“You don’t need to sign a pre-nup,” Clayton sounds almost hurt at her suggestion.

Ines slips her hand out of his, “Don’t be stupid, we’re only moving this fast because of me, I don’t want you to be at any legal risk just because I need a green card.”

“I haven’t worked with a case quite like this, but a pre-nup might help your case that this is for the right reasons and not just for a green card.”

Ines starts chewing on her thumbnail, Clayton grabs her hand to stop her.

“I’m not your agent, but we can probably draft a quick contract of sorts that will say she will sign a post-nuptial and you can sort that out after with your people.”

Sierra then goes on a spiel about what to expect, what documents they’ll need, forms they need to fill out, the medical exam Ines will need. Clayton is trying to pay attention, but his eyes are glazing over. She hooks her foot around his ankle and tries to give him her most grateful smile, she hopes it doesn’t look too much like a grimace.

They find themselves at the courthouse the next day. Kat had insists they don’t see each other before the wedding, so they go in separate cars. It makes no sense since the foursome all knows this isn’t real, it’s all an act.

Kat stops her on the steps of the courthouse,

“You have your something old with the dress,” she gestures to the huipil her abuela had made for her mother, it was the only mostly white thing she owned, though it was mostly covered in bright colored flowers.

“And your something new with that rock on your finger, so here’s your something borrowed and blue,” she digs through her purse for a box with a pair of simple sapphire earring.

“You know it’s not–“

“This may not be your dream wedding, but let’s no fuck around with good luck.”

Kat looks like she wants to say more, but that’s not something Ines wants to dissect at the moment. She pulls her into a tight embrace instead.

Clayton and Nick are already waiting inside. Ines makes a silly scrunched up face that Clayton returns.

“Don’t be gross,” Kat nudges her, it’s when Ines realizes she’s filming.

“I honestly thought you were gonna wear a Gucci t-shirt,” Ines grins when they stop in front of the guys.

“I made him put on something with a collar,” Nick gives Clayton a playful shove.

“Aww he could have been your something blue,” Kat coos as Ines fixes the collar of Clayton’s steel blue shirt.

“But I still would have needed something borrowed,” she laughs until she remembers she’s borrowing Clayton, she drops her hands to her sides like they caught on fire.

Thankfully, the clerk calls their names, saving them from dwelling too long on that truth.

The ceremony takes all of 15 minutes. Ines all too aware of her hands sweating in Clayton’s as they hold hands in front of the judge. Picture perfect.

“By the power vested in my by the state of Arizona, I know pronounce you married!”

When neither react right away the judge speaks up again and winks, “now would be a lovely time to kiss.”

An awkward giggle bubbles out of Ines, but then Clayton is cupping her face and kissing her. She kisses back, and what should probably be a more chaste kiss gets a little heated. Ines likes kissing Clayton, sue her.

They’re broken a part by the obnoxious cheers from Kat and Schmaltzy. Both are flushed when they pull away, neither quite sure if it’s from lust or embarrassment.

“Now that’s how you start off a marriage, congratulations,” the judge smiles.

⁄⁄⁄

Ines is fidgeting with everything. She’s moved a vase of flower about twenty times, though it’s only moved about 1 inch away from its original place.

Clayton grabs her arms and pins them to her sides, “relax, it’s just your family.”

“Oh yeah, my totally calm, quiet, chill family. Nothing to worry about.”

“Your family loves me, we’ll be fine,” he lets her arms go and she immediately moves the vase again.

“Where’s your ring?”

She reaches into the pocket of her dress, “My mom will notice it immediately, I’ll put it on after we tell them,” she starts to turn before wheeling back around, “that we’re engaged they don’t need to know we’re actually married, I don’t want them worrying about immigration.”

Clayton nods.

“And where’s your ring?” she instinctively grabs his hand to look.

“You just said they shouldn’t know we got married,” he laughs at her pinballing thoughts.

Ines opens her mouth to say something but he cuts her off by pulling out one of his chains, the silver ring hanging off of it.

“Okay,” she lets out a sigh, “keep it in your shirt, arcilla.”

Ines moves over to straighten an already pristine tablecloth; all the deception is making her ill. She doesn’t want to tell anyone, but she knows the news will get out somehow, and her mother will never forgive her. She might not forgive her if she learned she’s already married.

“When are we gonna tell your family? We can’t just be ‘engaged’ for two years or so without them knowing.

“We can call them after probably,” he shrugs, his confidence over this decision clearly wavering a bit. Ines feels secretly happy about that, they’re on a level playing field.

The doorbell rings, the commotion of her immediate family barely muffled through the door.

“Showtime,” Ines plasters on a big smile.

The family stumbles in, a cacophony of Spanish follows as they all speak over each other to greet Ines and pass off food.

“Clayton, mi amor,” Ines’ mom cups his face and kisses him all over before pulling him into a tight embrace, “I knew you two would figure it out.”

“Yeah, I’m glad we did.”

He takes some food and follows Ines to the kitchen as she gives directions to her family in Spanish. They’ve been together long enough he recognizes some of it, but he feels bad for never trying to learn Spanish in earnest.

One of her sisters, Teresa, is pouring shots of tequila. Ines smirks at him and is about to comment when a small body rams into him.

“Clayton! Look I lost a tooth at hockey,” Ines’ niece, Marisol smiles to show off the gap.

“She didn’t lose it during a game, she lost it shooting in our driveway,” her twin brother Mateo sneers.

“You’re just mad you have all your teeth still,” she sticks her tongue out.

“You know when you get adult teeth you want to keep them all, even as a hockey player,” Ines butts in.

“Whatever tia,” the little girl rolls her eyes and gets a scoff back from her aunt.

“The new season just started, how’s the new gear?” Clayton changes the subject.

“I don’t have to wear three pairs of socks in my skates anymore, and the sticks are so nice.” Mateo’s eyes gleam with excitement.

“Maybe later we can shoot around a bit,” Clayton smiles back.

The twins cheer at the idea before running off to tell their mom.

“You bought them gear for their new season?” Ines furrows her brows.

“Yeah, I have my connections,” he tries to play it off.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, but last season they had all that hand-me-down gear, it was literally the least I could do for getting them into the sport in the first place.

Ines nods.

“Lovebirds, we’re taking shots in your honor,” Teresa calls them over to the rest of the adults and hands them cups.

“¡Arriba, abajo, al centro y pa’dentro!”

The tequila goes down smooth, relaxing her enough to rip off the band aid.

“Well, we have something else for you to cheers,” Ines leans into Clayton’s side before reaching into her pocket and putting on the ring, “we’re engaged.”

There are screams, hugs, kisses, and even some tears. Ines feels the alcohol going to her head far faster than it should. Another glass being thrust into hand and another toast.

“Felicidades mija,” Ines’ dad brings her in close.

He’s a man of few words, partially because he never really learned the language of his new country. Those two simple words and the joy in his eyes makes Ines want to weep. He turns to Clayton, placing a strong hand on his shoulder and holding his other hand out.

“Bienvenido a nuestro familia.”

“Uh, gracias Hector, soy muy um–“ he leans over to Ines “how do I say I’m very excited?”

“Está muy emocionado, papi.”

“¡Más tequila!” He shouts and the family cheers.

“He’s happy for us, right? Not trying to kill me?” Clayton ribs Ines.

“I think this might be a test, if you die you wouldn’t have fit in anyway,” she smiles back.

“So, when are you going to get pregnant, mija?”

“Jesucristo mamí,” Ines furiously blushes, “couldn’t you have at least asked that in Spanish?”

“It takes both of you, I thought he should understand too.”

Her family is a little less embarrassing the rest of the party, they genuinely seem excited for Clayton to join the family. Her niece and nephew ask if Clayton is finally their real tio while she watches them pass around a ball on the sport court in the backyard.

Her heart aches with the truth.

It’s keeping her up in her bed. Usually, after that much tequila she’d be asleep within minutes, but there’s too much going on in her brain.

Her door creaks open and Clayton creeps into the room.

“How drunk are you still?” Ines tries to suppress the smile in her voice as Clayton clumsily crawls into the bed.

He merely grunts in response and moves around to get comfy.

“And you’re in here why?”

“I think the air conditioner isn’t getting into my room,” he mumbles and drapes an arm over Ines, burrowing his head into neck.

He can’t see her epic eye roll; she knows the air conditioner is probably fine and there are two other guest rooms he could use.

“You don’t have to lie, I know you like to cuddle when you’re drunk, babe.”

She winces at her casual use of a pet name, feels Clayton freeze for a second too.

She runs a hand through his hair until he relaxes again, “since my family tried to poison you, I’ll make you a hangover-approved breakfast before practice tomorrow.”

He hums in response, breath evening out until he’s asleep.

Ines is quick to follow, the weight of his arm a grounding comfort.

⁄⁄⁄

A month into the regular season and Ines still hasn’t been to a game. Kat warned her some of the significant others were starting to talk. Rumors of her breaking up with Clayton before the off-season had been swirling around. Sure, those rumors were true, but there was no concrete reason to believe them until her recent absence.

From what Ines heard about other teams, this group wasn’t particularly cliquey or gossipy. But sometimes that meant when there was something to talk about, they were hyper-focused. And that seems to be the situation now.

So being the girlfriend/fiancée/wife/whatever the hell she is to a member of team leadership, she invited the group over for dinner and drinks to watch an away game.

In actuality, it comes at the perfect time. Ines likes planning and organizing and it’s the perfect way to keep her mind off everything else. The most pressing being that Clayton is in St. Louis and made her promise to Facetime with him and his parents after the game. Keeping up appearances when she didn’t travel for the first game with her future in-laws.

Coming in at a close second is the fact the Blues are playing in town the day before Thanksgiving, so his mom thought it was a great time to visit for the holiday. Especially since Ines couldn’t make it out to Missouri this trip.

She’s already nauseous at the thought of moving her stuff back into the master bedroom, hiding all evidence of the truth. For now, the door is locked, so no nosy and/or drunk women pop in tonight.

“Pour yourself a drink and sit the fuck down Nez, the game is about to start,” Kat warns from her spot on the couch.

Ines stops organizing the growing pile of mail and rolls her shoulders back. She grabs a new bottle wine, knowing this group has already emptied the ones on the table before the anthem is even finished. She settles in the middle of the couch and cuddles into Kat’s side.

It’s nice to be back with a group of friends. Ines always gets lonely in the summer when most of them go back home and she’s stuck here, but this summer had been especially brutal.

“Ines, what the hell is that?” Claire shouts moments after puck drop.

Ines’ eyes dart around the room, looking for a scorpion or something that made it into the house.

“The ring on your finger!” Claire is grabbing her hand; the game is quickly forgotten in favor of this.

“Clayton proposed,” she feels her mouth attempt to smile, but it feels all wrong.

“Finally!” Someone cheers from behind her and the rest of the group seems to concur.

She didn’t mean to leave the ring on, it still feels so bulky and foreign. But she’s trying to at least wear it to work, so it doesn’t seem like some secret green card relationship. Though maybe keeping it from the WAGs makes it seem like a dirty secret.

In her mind it’s easier to cut and run from work acquaintances if this all blows up in her face. Clayton is stuck with most of these people, and Ines can’t imagine hurting him when he’s being so kind.

“Look how red she’s turning, no wonder she was staying away from us, Nez hates the spotlight,” Claire laughs.

“How did it happen?”

Ines wants to melt into the couch.

“Nothing special, he just brought me my favorite hangover breakfast and proposed while I was still in bed,” she shrugs, not wanting to lie more than necessary.

“Makes it convenient if you’re already in bed,” Kat waggles her eyebrows and Ines punches her arm.

“He knows I wouldn’t have accepted anything that wasn’t lowkey.”

“Yeah, except that gorgeous diamond, good work Kells,” Claire adds, giving the ring one last look before the action onscreen grabs back their attention.

Ines is a little wine drunk by the time the ladies clear out. Her face feels flushed and warm as she tries to clean up wine glasses and plates.

 There’s one bottle with a little wine left and she pours herself another glass while she waits for Clayton to call.  She starts to go through the mail she tossed aside before the game. A reminder for a dentist appointment, a credit card statement, a letter asking to go paperless for billing.

Her phone starts to buzz against the kitchen island, she answers the Facetime wishing it were a phone call instead.

“Hi arcilla, you played well tonight,” she’s actually not positive he played well, she mostly drank and caught up with her friends.

She looks down to the mail again, an official looking envelope addressed to her stares back at her.

“You, okay?”

“Yeah, sorry I’m a little tipsy,” she holds up her glass of wine for him to see.

“You had fun then?”

His dimple is on full display when he smiles and it reminds her of when they used to do this all the time; a call before either went to bed just to say hello or see each other’s faces. Ines knows what every hotel wall and headboard looks like in the NHL.

She plays with the corners of the envelope, “This is great and all, but I thought this was so I could say hi to your parents.”

Clayton starts to move, “they wanted to give us some privacy first.”

“Did they think we were gonna have quick phone se-ehh,” Ines peters off when his parents appear on screen.

Clayton is trying to hold back a laugh while Ines feels her flush grow brighter, “Hi Kelley, hi Bryan.”

“Hi honey, when are we gonna get you out here?” His mom asks.

“Sorry ,work never seems to be in my favor.”

She lies, it’s easier than saying she hasn’t been on a plane in 20 years because she’s afraid she’ll get deported. She’s never seen Clayton’s family outside of Arizona or somewhere within driving distance. They haven’t seemed too bothered, but she’s always worried they’re just good at hiding their true thoughts.

“One day,” she smiles, “we’re excited to see you in a couple weeks, is there anything you want us to make special for Thanksgiving?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re coming to our house.”

“Let me be a mom and take care of it” she scoffs, “you are my first daughter.”

Ines just nods because her voice might crack if she speaks.

“We’re getting a late dinner, so we’ll let you go. But can’t wait to see you, Ines,” Bryan says and gives a wave.

“Yeah, should be fun, enjoy dinner,” she waves back.

“Bye babe, love you,” Clayton waves, his eyes go wide before the call ends.

She’d give the moment more thought if she wasn’t itching to rip open the envelope in her hands.

Notice to Appear.

December 11th.

Suddenly the walls feel like they’re closing in.

⁄⁄⁄

When Clayton gets home from the road trip Ines is in the hot tub. Her muscles having felt wound tight for the last week.

“Saw you’re all moved in,” he says as he dangles his legs into the tub.

Ines doesn’t open her eyes to look at him, just nods.

“And you have your immigration hearing in December.”

She nods again, she left the letter out by the table where they put their keys. She didn’t want to talk about it, but she had to tell him.

“I’ll be in Buffalo that day, but I­–“

Ines opens her eyes, gives him an exasperated look, “You’ll play a hockey game and I’ll be fine on my own.”

“It’s not–“

She moves closer, almost to the space between his legs, “you’re doing so much for me, please don’t fight me on this. Just go play hockey.”

“Okay,” he nearly whispers.

Ines thinks about how easy it would be to give him a blow job right now, let her mind go blank for a bit. Shut up Clayton for a bit.

Before she can actually act on those thoughts, he places a hand on her cheek, running his thumb across her cheek bone.

“And you’re doing, okay?”

She honestly doesn’t know, but she does know she doesn’t want to talk about it.

So, she grabs Clayton’s wrist and pulls him in closer. She doesn’t wait for him to catch up, smashing their lips together and pushing her tongue into his mouth before he even starts kissing back.

He’s quick to catch up to her. Pulling her flush against him, filling the space between his legs. It’s the first time they’ve done this since they got married, it feels like all the building tension is finally exploding. Ines feels molten.

Clayton unties the back her bikini top and tosses it somewhere behind him with a wet splat. His hands cover her chest and she can’t help but shiver, maybe from the cold air but probably not.

She grabs his hair and pulls him away from her, “we should take this inside.”

Without second thought he pulls her out of the hot tub and towards the house, the strings of her bottoms undone and left outside as well. Ines paws at his shirt, trying to get her own fill of skin.

He pulls it over his head in one fluid motion as he maneuvers Ines towards the bedroom. Her back hits the mattress before she realizes they’re in the master bedroom.

They haven’t done this here since the break up six months ago, like it’s too intimate, too full of the past.

Clayton is hovering over her, the chain with the wedding ring dangling. The room is filled with her belongings again and she feels like she’s in some alternate universe. A world where they never broke up, where marriage was a logical step in the future.

She tries to clear her mind again, pulling Clayton down for a kiss because she wants this.

⁄⁄⁄

An alarm starts to blare and she feels the other side of the bed move.

“Sorry, that’s mine,” Ines apologizes and turns it off.

She lays back and stares at the ceiling for a bit. It feels too familiar to wake up in here, naked in the softest sheets she’s ever felt. But nothing has actually shifted, she’ll get out of bed and everything will be as it was.

She rubs the sleep from her eyes and gets out of bed to take a shower. Clayton is getting ready for practice when she gets out of the bathroom.

“I forgot how nice that shower is, you should redo the one guest bathroom, it could have better water pressure,” she jokes, though it doesn’t really land.

She wanders into the walk-in closet where she’s haphazardly put away some of her clothes, she feels Clayton follow her in, even though he’s mostly dressed.

“My parents get in today; do you want to go to the game with them tonight?” He sounds like he’s asking out a girl for the first time.

“The twins have a music recital or play or something I said I’d go to, but they can take my car to the arena so you don’t have to worry about that.”

She drops the towel on the floor and starts getting dressed for work, stopping before she zips up her dress, reading between the lines of Clayton’s question.

“But I’ll be at the game with them on Wednesday, I mean if you can get me a ticket,” she turns to flash a smile at Clayton to find that’s he’s only a step away.

“I think I can manage that,” he turns Ines around, moving her hair out of the way and zipping up the dress for her, fingers lingering at her neck for a second too long.

Ines stops herself from shivering and turns around, “I have to leave, but see you after the game.”

She gives him a quick peck against her better judgement, “good luck.”

The casual touches don’t disappear in the following days. Ines can’t tell if they’re putting a show on for his parents or not. The touches seem too instinctive to just be a spectacle, but maybe that’s because they’re sharing a bed again and can’t seem to keep their hands off each other behind closed doors.

Though that seems to be seeping outside of the bedroom, too.

The morning after his parents arrive, Kelley is in the kitchen making coffee and gives them a knowing look when they come out of the bedroom, as if to tell them they were too loud even from the other side of the house. Ines decides to pick up breakfast on her way to work rather than sit through breakfast at home.

That night Ines is laid out on the couch not paying attention to the football game playing on TV. Clayton lifts her head up and then places her back down on his lap when he sits.

She groans as she tries to get more comfortable, “You make a terrible pillow, you’re too bony.”

“I think it’s the titanium rod in my leg,” he says back, squirming underneath her to make her more frustrated.

“You were bony before then too,” she rolls her eyes and pretends to focus on the game and ignore Clayton’s fingers brushing under her shirt.

Wednesday is a half day for Ines, she gets home to a surprisingly empty house and enjoys drinking a beer and mindlessly watching Tiktoks in peace.

“Hey, wasn’t expecting you home,” Ines jumps when Clayton comes up behind her.

“Wasn’t expecting to find an empty house,” she shrugs.

“My parents are picking up Jake from the airport,” he wraps his arms around Ines’ waist, “I was about to take my pre-game nap, but I wouldn’t say no to some company.”

He presses a couple kisses into her neck, “an afternoon nap sounds nice.”

She barely finishes the sentence before he’s walking her to the bedroom. Clayton is a little handsy as Ines crawls into the bed.

“I’m serious about an actual nap, I won’t be held responsible if you have a bad game.”

Clayton rolls away, hands up in surrender.

Ines rolls towards him wrapping an arm around his middle, “For all your suffering, I’ll give you a blow job if you win tonight.”

“A victory blow job? You didn’t even do that when we were dating,” he chuckles, the sound amplified with her ear on his chest.

“What can I say, I’m in a giving mood,” she kisses his pec and closes her eyes.

Clayton’s alarm goes off and Ines groans.

“You can sleep longer,” he runs a hand through her hair before slipping out from under her.

“Nah, I’ll just be more tired later,” she rolls over but doesn’t get out of the bed, watches Clayton go into the closet.

“You should wear the green suit from the awards, it’s a special request from Marisol.”

“Oh yeah?”

“She thinks I have a say over what you wear and she told me it’s her favorite,” she watches Clayton start to get undressed, “you did look hot in it,” she smirks when he fumbles with a hanger in response.

When he comes out dressed, he still has bedhead. Ines gets up to fix it, he jokingly bats her hands away as they leave the room.

“Just let me fix this one piece arcilla, you look like we just fucked,” she stops in her tracks at the sight of Clayton’s family, “Hi Jake, good to see you.”

Jake nods in her direction, not particularly friendly, but she can pretend it’s because of the awkward conversation they just heard.

Ines knows Clayton told his brother everything, or more than Ines would like. She’s not sure exactly what he told his parents about the break up, but they seem to have forgiven anything pretty quickly. She knows Jake is a little weary of her now, and maybe her motives.

Clayton is either oblivious or just trying to play it off and gives him a bro-hug before he heads off to the game

The awkward air between Jake and Ines remains, not that they were ever specifically close, but this feels extra icy. She tries to avoid sitting next to him, but the two get caught between the parents. And she’s not even in her usual seats near Kat to have a buffer.

The game is a bit messy, passes aren’t connecting, the power play might as well be missing, but the crowd is into it. Mullett is small enough to feel like you’re always in the game, which helps Ines because before Clayton she knew next to nothing about hockey. Being this up close means she’s 99% sure she understands the rules, except goalie interference.

The second period ends with the Blues up by one, which isn’t too bad considering how the game is looking.

“Have you two talked about any wedding plans?” Kelley turns to Ines,

On her other side she hears Jake snort on his drink, she makes a mental note to double check how much Clayton has told his brother.

“Not really, I had a quinceañera so I already had my big party and fancy-dress moment,” it’s the truth, her 15th birthday fulfilled a lot of princess dreams she may have had.

“You’re both still young, you can have long engagement to figure it out if you want.”

Ines feels the anxiety seep out of her bones.

“You two could even get married at a courthouse if that’s that you wanted.”

The tension comes back so quickly it almost gives her whiplash.

Jake shoots up and mumbles something about food. Ines would follow him, but she’s not sure a public confrontation is the best idea.

Thankfully there’s some more hockey to distract her, the Coyotes end up clawing back but lose in OT on a poorly timed line change.

There’s not a great place to wait for the boys at Mullett, so they sit in their seats for a while before meandering down.

Kat jumps on Ines the moment she sees her.

“Look who’s gracing us with her presence,” Kat kisses her cheek and slides off her back before she can accidentally knock them to the ground.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, bad WAG alert,” Ines swats her away.

She hears Jake mumble something, but can’t quite make it out. That’s when Kat actually seems to comprehend that Clayton’s family is here.

“The two lovebirds have been busy being cooped up, we haven’t seen them both in the flesh for a while,” she gives a cheeky smile and winks at the Kellers.

“We’re in the same house and they’re having a hard time keeping it in the bedroom, so consider yourself lucky,” Bryan laughs with Kat while Ines cheeks burn.

“Oooh la la Nez, loving this pre-honeymoon phase for you,” she gives Ines a meaningful pinch on the side, a warning they will be talking about this later.

“Speak of the devil,” Kelley laughs and pulls her son into hug.

“Kells show me some of this PDA everyone is talking about,” Kat is clearly not above egging this on despite the sharp look Ines gives.

Clayton pulls her in tight, ducking his head so he can whisper to her.

“Sorry, I didn’t live up to our end of the bargain. No prize for me,” he fake pouts.

“Cause I’m still in a giving mood, here’s a consolation prize for a one-point night,” Ines pulls Clayton in for a kiss, ignoring the catcall from Kat.

“That’s it?” Clayton her pulls her in tightly to his side.

“Don’t push it,” she elbows him in the side, ignores the knowing look Kat is directing her way.

Ines manages to convince everyone the brothers should ride home together, since they don’t see each other enough. Partially, to prove to Kat that there’s nothing going on; partially hoping that Clayton and Jake will talk through whatever weirdness is going on.

⁄⁄⁄

“Do you have to go golfing and leave me alone with your mom?” Ines complains before stuffing her face in the pillow

“You like my mom,” Clayton rolls back onto the bed and rubs her back.

“Yeah, but preparing Thanksgiving is like serious mother-daughter shit, I’d love some backup.”

“You could come golfing.”

“Cause I’d love to get made fun of instead.”

“Those are kind of your two options,” he kisses her shoulder.

“Fine, staying home it is,” she flips over onto her back, “can you at least make sure Jake won’t be weird when you guys come back.”

“He’s just looking out for me, doesn’t want you taking advantage of me,” Clayton absentmindedly traces up and down her arm.

“Did you tell him this was your suggestion? And that I signed a pre-nup? I won’t take advantage and steal your money if that’s what he’s worried about.”

His hand stills for a moment, “I’ll talk to him again, don’t worry about it.”

He stands up again, “have fun cooking.”

“I hope you lose!” Ines calls back.

Ines wanders into the kitchen an hour later, Kelley already deep in prep.

“Sorry, I went back to sleep. Though I’ve never cooked Thanksgiving so I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

“You’re a great cook, I think you’ll be fine,” Kelley laughs before instructing her on how to finish prepping the stuffing.

Ines takes off the engagement ring and places it in the middle of the island, out of reach. She rubs the naked finger and notices there’s already a faint tan line. She flexes the fingers, like that will give her some answers. Like why taking it off doesn’t feel like unhooking an anchor that’s pulling her under anymore.

She looks up to see she’s been caught by Kelley. If she has some thoughts, she doesn’t share them with Ines.

They work mostly in quiet, the Thanksgiving Parade playing on the TV in the other room. Kelley stopping every once in a while, to watch or tell Ines about watching the parade growing up. How Clayton used to worry the balloons were going to eat the people holding them when he was a toddler.

“This is your first turkey?” Kelley says as Ines puts the bird in the oven

“Yeah, I spent most of my Thanksgivings helping my mom with housekeeping, so can’t do this but ask me to make a bed, I got you,” Ines laughs.

“This calls for a toast then,” Kelley finds some Bailey’s and pours it into their coffees, “To sharing my secrets with my new daughter.”

She clinks her mug against Ines, the sound scrambles something in Ines’ heart, “You know Clay and I broke up right?”

Kelley takes a long sip of her coffee and hums.

“He told us you needed some time apart. Because of all the uncertainty around the team and some things he didn’t really get into,” Kelley trails off.

“It’s understandable you’re both so young and had to go through some really intense things together. I think it was really mature what you two decided, but I’m really glad you worked it out, you make Clayton so happy. I think happier than hockey, if that’s possible.”

Ines lip starts to wobble, she tries to stop the tears. But how can she when even Clayton’s mom believes their lie? How can she break her heart down the line?

“Oh darling,” Kelley pulls her into a tight embrace that only a mom can give, “love is never easy, and if down the road it’s not right anymore, that will be okay too. It’s privilege to find love at all.”

That sends Ines into another wave of sobs. She buries her face into Kelley’s shoulder as she gently rubs Ines’ back and sways them side to side.

Once her cries seem to calmed down to sniffles, Kelley moves away enough to see Ines’ face. She wipes away the few stray tears, “I see the way you two look at each other when you think no one’s watching, I think you’ll happy together for a very long time.”

Kelley smiles, her eyes a little glossy like she might cry too. And with a shaky breath Ines tries to give her a smile back.

They hear the door open and the boys start to come into the house.

“Who won?” Kelley calls out as they come around the corner.

Ines tries to busy herself by rolling out the pie crust they had forgotten.

“Jake squeaked one out,” Bryan comes around the island and kisses Kelley, “smells great ladies, you need any help?”

“Not right now, we were gonna take a break soon,” Kelley winks at Ines.

Clayton comes and leans into Ines from behind, his hands boxing Ines in. He kisses her cheek before he notices her eyes rimmed red.

“You, okay?” He whispers, kissing below her ear.

“Yeah, whatever onions we bought were like tear gas,” she cracks a smile and leans back into him.

“We had to evacuate for a while, I think we just got it under control before you guys came home,” Kelley smiles and pulls Bryan out of the kitchen, following the sounds of a football game Jake put on.

Ines turns around, still boxed in by Clayton. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and hangs her weight on him, feeling a bit tired. He moves his hands to her hips, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Was it rough morning alone with my mom?”

“No, it was really nice, actually.”

She pulls back to give him a genuine smile, plays with the ends of his hair, “And did you talk to Jake?”

“Yeah, and I let him win so I think he’ll be in a good mood.”

“Wow, you did that for me?”

“Yeah, of course,” he smirks before dipping down to kiss her.

“Why can’t you let me win?” Ines pouts when the pull a part.

“I can’t act that well,” he’s biting back a mischievous grin, “but if you ask nicely, I can help you improve your back swing.”

He’s gently moving her hips side to side when Ines gives him a playful shove, “Keep it in your pants Keller, your family is in the other room.”

“Hasn’t stopped you much this week,” he pulls her flush against his chest, his hands wandering to her ass.

“Oh my god, there’s not gonna be that kind of giving today.”

Clayton’s about to respond, “Is it safe to come into the kitchen or are you two fondling each other?”

Ines moves Clayton’s hands off her butt and to his sides, “All clear Jake, your brother was just leaving to take a shower, a cold one,” she whispers the last part.

Jake makes a gagging sound, “you two are gross.”

“One day you’ll have someone to fondle other than yourself,” Clayton punches his brother in the arm on the way out of the kitchen.

⁄⁄⁄

Ines and Kat are sitting on the steps of the courthouse, finishing their coffees. The coffee was probably a mistake, it’s sitting acidic and heavy in her stomach.

At least the universe wasn’t cruel enough to have her hearing at the same courthouse as she got married. She doesn’t think her heart could take the irony.

Kat is jittery, her knee bouncing erratically. Caffeine doesn’t have that kind of effect on her, so Ines knows it must be something else.

“I think I’m supposed to be the nervous one.”

“I still don’t understand why you broke up with Clayton in the first place.”

Ines whips her head around like there’s someone waiting around the corner to record this kind of damning evidence.

“You said you’d explain, but you never did. And it’s clear you still have feelings for him.”

Ines scoffs.

“Fine, you don’t love him, then tell me why you broke up and why you never moved out? You had plenty of time to find a new place, Nick and I would have let you move in.”

“I was tired of holding him back.”

Ines gulps down the cold remnants of her drink.

“It was so exhausting telling him no. No, I can’t go home with you to meet your parents. No, I can’t go to the All-Star Game in Florida cause it’s not in driving distance. I can’t be your date to a wedding because I can’t get on a plane. I can’t have bye week with all our friends in the fucking country I was born in because I may not get to come home!”

She tries to take even-keeled breaths; she doesn’t want to start crying before her hearing even starts.

“And he couldn’t tell people because what if someone slipped up and I got deported, or worse they found my parents or Soledad. She has kids!”

Kat puts a gentle hand on her knee.

“And he shouldn’t have to deal with that, he could find someone less complicated and someone who could actually be there for him.”

“Did he ever tell you those things were a problem?”

“No, but I could see how frustrating all those little things were becoming; how upset he’d get with every new thing I couldn’t do.”

“Yeah, he’s upset because you couldn’t live a full life without worry. Because he loves you, Ines! He’s still in love with you.”

“No, he isn’t. He’s just nice. He would have said something by now, not just married me and suffered in silence.”

“Oh, he should have said something? Like you’re saying something because you clearly still love him, too?”

Ines just blinks at Kat, like her brain can’t possibly comprehend what her friend is saying. She doesn’t even get the chance to argue because her alarm goes off.

“You have a court hearing, but don’t think justice will stop us from talking about this later,” Kat says sternly.

In the court room, Ines sits between her lawyer and Kat. Her brain feels too fried to keep up with the basics the judge opens up with.

“Now it says the couple was wed on September 14th of this year. Just a few days before the official report was filed about Ms. Ruiz’ status. You’ll understand why this seems a little convenient.”

“Yes, your honor,” Sierra stands up holding a file, “but the couple was engaged before any officially filings were made. And you can see in the documents we have a receipt from when Mr. Keller bought the engagement ring back in March of this year. If you need to see Ms. Ruiz’ ring for confirmation she can approach the bench.”

“That won’t be necessary. Seeing as all the applications are going through the appropriate channels, I see no reason to hold Ms. Ruiz in custody while she waits for her green card interview.”

The gavel bang echoes in Ines’ head, but the judge is already moving on to the next case. Sierra and Kat help lead her out of the courtroom. They’re excitedly chattering, and Ines knows she should join in, knows this is good news, but she hasn’t quite caught up.

She sends Clayton a text: Hearing went well, won’t be going to prison, then promptly turns off her phone.

⁄⁄⁄

Ines gets two days to stew before Clayton comes home.

He picks her up and spins her around in excitement the instant he sees her. His smile falters when he sets her down and sees the borderline grim look on Ines’ face.

“You bought the ring in March?”

Clayton doesn’t know what to say, shocked by the realization.

“They brought up the receipt during the hearing, to help prove that it wasn’t just a last-minute wedding.”

Ines bites at her thumb nail, the ring catching the light. Clayton feels some relief that she hasn’t taken it off.

“You wanted to marry me before we broke up?”

“You breaking up with me kind of ruined my plans,” Clayton shrugs, not sure the direction this conversation is taking.

Ines laughs in spite herself.

“There were all those weddings you couldn’t come to and I thought you needed a chance to think without any pressure from my life, I didn’t expect it to be permanent.”

Ines audibly swallows, they’re walking around the heart of the issue, both too scared to be the first to show all their cards.

“I still got to marry you, not in the way I wanted. But I don’t regret that, no matter what you think.”

Ines moves to take off the ring, Clayton holds his breath while his heart clenches painfully.

“Ask me again.”

“What?”

Ines hands him the ring, her voice wavers a bit, “ask me again.”

He fumbles with the ring for a second before dropping down to one knee.

“I- uh don’t have anything romantic to say. But I love you Ines and I want to be with you as long as you’ll have me. So will you marry me?”

Ines lets out a small sob before covering her face, “Oh my god I can’t believe I’m a girl who cries when she gets proposed to.”

“Is that a yes? Cause otherwise this is really fucking mean.”

“Shit, sorry, yes. That’s a yes,“ she clambers to get Clayton standing again and kisses him desperately.

“I love you arcilla, I’m sorry it took me a while to realize I never stopped,” she says between kisses, not wanting to stop now.

Clayton laughs and pulls away enough to put the ring back on, “it was worth the wait.”

This time Clayton pulls her into a kiss, savoring the moment he imagined for months and months.

[onlyquinns]

soft clay who wakes up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and when he reaches his arms to find you; he can’t. you come back to the room to find him an absolute mess. a mix of sweat, drool, tears all over his face and you immediately rush over to his side to hold him in your arms till he falls asleep again :(

it’s nearly three in the morning when you sit up in bed, bleary-eyed and way too parched for your liking. clay sleeps quietly next to you, face smooshed cutely into his pillow and his strong arm draped over your midsection. you take care to gently move him, positioning his arm over your own pillow to mimic your body.

the apartment looks different in the dark; the corners are filled with soft shadows that fade away as you turn your phone flashlight on them. you pad to the kitchen slowly, wincing when the floorboards creak, annoyed that they still create sounds even when you deliberately attempt to work around them.

as you go to fill up a glass cup of water, you're unaware of clayton tossing in his sleep. the peaceful expression is long gone, replaced with pinched brows and scared gasps. his dream haunts him, showing him painful images of you getting hurt, his body frozen from moving as he watches you get in harm's way.

he sits up with a gasp, arm already patting the bed next to him for you. his fingers grip and twist in the sheets next to him, unable to feel your warmth on the sheets. panic seizes his chest, making it harder for him to breathe or to think rationally for just a second.

you're on your way back to the bedroom when you hear him whimpering, so soft you nearly think you're just hearing things. when you push open the bedroom door, your heart plummets at the sight of clayton curled up on himself. loud sobs rack his body, the comforter pulled tight to his chest like it's his lifeline. tears race down his flushed cheeks when he sits up to look at you, eyes filled with fear.

"oh, baby," you whisper to him, lying down next to him.

clayton presses his body to yours, hiccupping from choked-back sobs. "thought something bad happened to you," he says, voice shaky from crying not too long ago.

you run your hands up his spine and over his shoulders. you cup his cheeks, thumbing away the tears that cling to his cheeks. "i'm still here," you tell him, pressing a tender kiss to his sweaty forehead. "just went to get some water."

clayton presses his forehead to yours when you pull away to look at him. his eyes flutter shut as he inhales deeply, savoring the scent of your body wash and the lingering scent of detergent that clings to your shirt.

"just breathe, clay," you murmur, eyes never leaving his face as he continues to inhale and exhale. "you're doing so good, baby."

clayton's arms wrap tightly around you, pulling you closer. "don't leave," he near-whimpers.

you shake your head, carefully tucking back loose strands of his hair that cling to his face. "i won't. i promise."

clayton tucks his face into the crook of your shoulder, cheeks tucked against your warm skin and the pillow. his breathing slows as he falls back asleep, nightmare gone and you still next to him.

[hockeyluvrr]

no I’m not in love || ck9

series masterlist main masterlist

summary: You’ve convinced yourself that your feelings for Clayton Keller are nothing more than a passing infatuation. But when the Utah Hockey Club forward starts inching closer to your heart, you’re left wrestling with emotions you swore you’d never entertain.

warnings: denial, pining, no clue what else though lol

author’s note: this is definitely one of my favs, hope you guys like it too because clay deserves some love! also side note, completely unrelated but as I’m posting this I’ve hit 300 followers 🥹 can’t even believe it!

word count: 2,209

The rhythmic clatter of skates against ice fills the arena, the crisp chill in the air wrapping around you as you settle into your usual seat. You tell yourself that you're here for the game, for the love of hockey—but your eyes follow #9 a little too closely, lingering just a second too long when he glides past with a flick of his wrist and an effortless goal.

Clayton Keller. The name alone sends an inconvenient warmth through you. But it's not like that. It can’t be. You’re not one of those people who falls for a guy just because he has a killer smile and the kind of talent that turns heads in an instant. You like to believe you’re above all that.

And yet…

You shake your head, dragging your gaze away from the ice. It’s just hockey. He’s just a player. The way your heart picks up speed when he glances up at the stands? Coincidence. The way you find yourself at nearly every home game, your eyes searching for him the moment he steps onto the ice? Routine. Nothing more.

Nothing at all.

———

“You coming out tonight?”

Your best friend nudges you as you step out of the arena, the lingering roar of the crowd still buzzing in your ears. Utah won, and Clayton played like a man possessed—two goals, one assist, and a dazzling move that had the entire building on its feet.

You should be celebrating. But your stomach is tied in knots, and you can’t figure out why.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets. “I’m kinda tired.”

“Bull. You just don’t want to admit that you’d rather go home and overanalyse every second of that game, especially where a certain #9 is concerned.”

You glare at them. “That’s not true.”

They smirk knowingly. “Sure. And I’m the next first-round draft pick.”

You groan but say nothing, because denying it feels like feeding into something you shouldn’t even be considering. The truth is, you don’t know what’s happening inside your head. Or maybe, more accurately, inside your heart.

———

The bar is already alive with energy by the time you step inside. Warm light flickers across polished wood, the steady pulse of music thrumming beneath the hum of conversation. It’s the kind of place that feels both intimate and chaotic, where time stretches and blurs under the influence of good drinks and even better company.

You slip through the crowd, finding an open spot at the bar. The familiar weight of a drink settles into your hand before you even have time to second-guess this whole night. You take a slow sip, the burn of alcohol grounding you, drowning out the thoughts you don’t want to acknowledge.

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

The voice is smooth, edged with quiet amusement, and it cuts through the noise with an ease that makes your pulse stutter.

You turn your head—and freeze for half a second before catching yourself.

Clayton Keller stands beside you, one arm resting casually against the bar, his body angled toward you like he’s been here all along. His hair is still damp from the shower, and the sleeves of his jacket are pushed up just enough to reveal the veins along his forearm. Up close, he’s even more magnetic than he is on the ice—sharp features softened by something unreadable in his expression, an easy kind of confidence that doesn’t demand attention but holds it effortlessly.

You blink, forcing your brain to catch up. He’s never spoken to you before—not in the weeks you’ve spent watching him from the stands, not in the moments when you swore his gaze lingered on you between plays but convinced yourself you were imagining it.

And yet, here he is. Talking to you.

You raise an eyebrow, masking the way your heart picks up its pace. “And you look like you don’t have that problem.”

His lips twitch into something that isn’t quite a smirk but feels just as dangerous. “Guess that depends on the company.”

You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “Smooth.”

His eyes flick over you, assessing but not in a way that makes you feel scrutinised—more like he’s committing details to memory. “Haven’t seen you here before.”

“First time,” you admit, swirling the ice in your glass. You hesitate before adding, “Got dragged out by a friend. Thought it might be a mistake.”

“And?”

You glance at him, considering. “Jury’s still out.”

His grin is slow, easy. “Guess I’ve got work to do, then.”

The way he says it is light, almost teasing, but there’s something else beneath the surface. Something careful. Like he’s waiting to see if you’ll meet him halfway.

You should be more composed about this. You should be asking yourself why Clayton Keller is standing here, making conversation like he’s been looking for an excuse to talk to you. But instead, you let yourself hold his gaze, feeling the weight of it settle in your chest.

“I’ve seen you at games.” His voice is quieter now, not quite hesitant, but deliberate. Testing.

Your fingers tighten slightly around your drink. “Oh?”

He leans in just a fraction, close enough that you catch the clean scent of soap and something else, something uniquely him. “Yeah. A few times.” His gaze flickers over your face, searching. “Thought I might be imagining it was you at first.”

Your breath catches, but you refuse to let it show as you make a pathetic excuse of a joke. “And now?”

He exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Pretty sure I wasn’t.”

The air shifts—just slightly, but enough that you feel it, enough that the noise of the bar seems to fade into the background.

You should say something. Shrug it off, play it cool, make some effortless remark about hockey players and their egos. But all you can do is watch him, pulse thrumming in your throat, and wonder what would happen if, just for a moment, you didn’t pretend you hadn’t been hoping for this all along.

And that? That might be the most dangerous thought of all.

———

Days pass. Then weeks. And somehow, against all logic, Clayton becomes a fixture in your life.

You don’t know when it started happening, not really. One moment, he was just another player on the ice, a name you cheered for from a distance. The next, he was everywhere. Inviting you out after games. Sending texts that made you roll your eyes and smile against your will. Standing too close when he talked to you, like he thrived on testing your patience.

And the worst part? You let him.

Because as much as you hate to admit it, there’s something about him that makes it impossible to walk away.

“You’re staring again.”

You blink, snapping out of your daze to find him watching you, amusement flickering in his eyes. The two of you are sitting on the hood of his car, parked outside your favourite diner, a late-night tradition that’s started to feel dangerously close to something real.

“I’m not.”

He smirks. “Liar.”

You roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder lightly. He laughs, but there’s something softer in his expression now, something that makes your breath hitch.

“You know,” he says, voice quieter this time, “you can stop fighting it.”

Your pulse stumbles. “Fighting what?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just looks at you, really looks at you, until you feel like he’s seeing every thought you’ve refused to say out loud.

“You know what.”

And maybe you do. Maybe you always have.

But saying it? Acknowledging it? That would mean admitting that everything you’ve tried to convince yourself of—that this was nothing, that you didn’t care—is a lie.

And you’re not sure you’re ready for that yet.

———

The realisation comes when you least expect it.

Maybe it’s the way he looks at you after a game, searching the crowd like he needs to see you there. Maybe it’s the late-night conversations that stretch into dawn, the easy way he makes you laugh when you’ve had the worst day. Maybe it’s the way he touches you—light, fleeting, like he’s waiting for permission to make it something more.

Or maybe it’s just him. All of him. And the fact that, somewhere along the way, he stopped being just another player to you.

You hate it. Because it means you’re already in too deep. Because it means that every wall you’ve built is crumbling under the weight of something terrifyingly real.

And that scares you more than anything else ever has.

———

“You’re running.”

His voice stops you in your tracks. You should have known he’d catch on.

“I’m not.”

Clayton steps closer, eyes dark with something unreadable. “Then tell me why you’re pulling away.”

You swallow hard, but the words won’t come. Because how do you explain that you’re terrified? That you never meant for this to happen, that you don’t know how to handle the way he makes you feel?

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I like you, you know.”

Your heart clenches. “I know.”

“Do you?” His voice is softer now, more careful. “Because you keep acting like this is something you don’t want.”

You look away. “Maybe I don’t.”

He studies you for a long moment, then shakes his head with a small, knowing smile. “Liar.”

The silence stretches between you, thick and weighted, as if the air itself is daring you to say something—anything—that might change the course of whatever this has become.

Clayton is still watching you, gaze steady, like he already knows what you’re going to say before you even say it. It’s infuriating. But more than that, it’s terrifying. Because you know he’s right. You’ve been running. And the worst part? You don’t even know if it was from him or from yourself.

Your fingers tighten at your sides, nails pressing into your palm as you force yourself to meet his eyes. “It’s not that simple.”

His jaw tenses for a fraction of a second before he exhales, shaking his head. “Yeah, it is.” He steps closer, close enough that the warmth of him cuts through the cool night air. “You’re the one making it complicated.”

The words sting because they’re true.

You don’t know how to do this—the whole letting someone in thing. It’s easier to pretend that feelings don’t exist, that the way your chest tightens whenever you see him is just admiration, that the thought of him not being around doesn’t make your stomach drop.

But deep down, you know. You’ve known for a while.

And the way he’s looking at you right now? Like he’s waiting, like he’s always been waiting? It makes you want to stop pretending.

You inhale sharply, the words catching in your throat before you finally force them out. “I like you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but from the way his expression shifts—just slightly—you know he heard you. “I just… I don’t know how to do this.”

Clayton’s gaze softens, and the tension in his shoulders eases, just a bit. He’s quiet for a moment, then murmurs, “We’ll figure it out.”

And maybe that should scare you, the idea of stepping into something so uncertain. But when he says it, it doesn’t sound scary at all.

It just sounds right.

His hand brushes against yours, tentative at first—giving you a chance to pull away. You don’t. Instead, you let your fingers curl around his, the warmth of his skin grounding you, steadying you.

A slow smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Was that so hard?”

You roll your eyes, but the flush creeping up your neck betrays you. “Shut up.”

He laughs softly, then, in one smooth motion, lifts your joined hands and tugs you just a little closer. The space between you disappears, and for a second, all you can hear is your own heartbeat, pounding loud and insistent in your ears.

You should look away. You should say something to defuse the moment before you do something reckless. But then his gaze flickers to your lips, and suddenly, you don’t want to defuse anything.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, voice barely audible.

You don’t.

Instead, you tilt your chin up, just enough to close the distance, just enough to let him know exactly what you want.

That’s all it takes.

His lips meet yours, slow and deliberate, like he’s memorising the shape of you, like he’s making sure this is real. And god, it is. The warmth of his hands against your skin, the way he pulls you in just a little closer—it sends a shiver down your spine, but for once, it’s not fear.

It’s everything you’ve been too afraid to admit you wanted.

When you finally pull back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“So,” he murmurs, a small, teasing smile playing at his lips. “Still running?”

You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head. “No.”

And for the first time in a long time, you mean it. Because, god…maybe you are in love.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Pick Up The Phone

Summary: was just a silly thought I had that is now more than I thought it would be

Warnings: Praise, Degradation, Phone sex, PWP, Teasing, Begging. Dom Clayton and Sub Reader, No actual sex, Edging.

Word Count: 5.1k

Clayton groans as he stares at the half-packed suitcase lying on the bed. "Why do I always end up packing at the last minute?" he complains, running a hand through his messy hair. You sit on the edge of the bed just watching his half hazard way of packing, a pout forming on your lips. "You're leaving me for a whole week," you whined, your voice filled with mock-sadness. Clayton laughs, looking over at you. "Aww, don't pout." He walks over to you, grabbing your chin and tilting it up. He leaned down and brushed a kiss against your lips. Clayton chuckles, shaking his head as he continues to stuff clothes into the suitcase. "I'll be back before you know it," he reassures, glancing over at you with a smile. "And besides, you have a week to do whatever you want without me bugging you."

"But what if I want you bugging me?" you tease, standing up and wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. You rest your chin on his shoulder, watching as he continues packing. Clayton chuckles, the sound deep in his chest. "Trust me, you'll have plenty of peace and quiet without me there." He reaches back, pulling you around so that you're standing in front of him. "And you can always call me whenever you want, you know that right?" You sigh in playful defeat, tilting your head to the side as you look up at him. You place a hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beating under your palm. "I know," you reply softly. "But it won't be the same without you here." Clayton's expression softens as he looks down at you, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. "I'm not that far away, you know?" he teases, pulling you closer.

"I know but…" you trail off, a slight whine in your voice. You bury your face in his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt. You breathe in his scent, a mix of cologne and a hint of sweat. "I'll miss you," you admit, your fingers gripping his shirt slightly. Clayton chuckles softly, his hand coming up to run through your hair. "I'll miss you too, babe," he says, his voice low and soothing. He plants a kiss on the top of your head, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hip. "But I promise to call you every night, and text you as much as I can." He pulls back just enough to look down at you. "And I’ll bring you back something nice." You look up at him, your pout still present but now slightly tempered by his words. "You better," you reply, poking him lightly in the ribs. Clayton laughs, giving you a playful shove. "I will, I will," he assures you before going back to packing. "Come on, help me finish this up." He motions to the half-filled suitcase. You roll your eyes dramatically, but still move to help him finish packing. As you finish up, Clayton zips the suitcase closed and sets it by the door before turning back to you.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. "See? That wasn't so bad," he says, his breath warm against your ear as he presses a kiss to your temple. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into him. "No, but it's still not fair that you're leaving," you reply, pouting once more. He chuckles, shaking his head. "Life isn't fair, babe," he teases, giving you a squeeze. You let out a huff of protest, but you also cling a little tighter to him. "I know, I know," you grumble, burying your face in his chest once more. "But I still don't like it." Clayton rubs a hand up and down your back, feeling the tension in your muscles. "I know you don't," he says softly. "But I'll be back before you know it. And then I'm all yours." You sigh, lifting your head to look up at him. "You promise?" you ask, a hint of insecurity in your voice. He smiles down at you, his expression tender and sincere. "I promise," he replies, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "I'll always come back to you, no matter what." Your heart flutters at his words, your fingers clenching slightly in his shirt. "I'm going to hold you to that, you know," you tell him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Clayton laughs again, the sound deep and warm. "I'd expect nothing less," he says before leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

You melt into him, your hands moving to grip the fabric of his shirt. You feel his hand move to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. The kiss is slow and gentle, full of unspoken promises and unspoken words. When finally he pulls away, you're both a little breathless and your heart feels like it's going to burst. He rests his forehead against yours, his fingers skimming down your spine. "I'll text you when I get to the hotel, okay?" he says softly, his breath warm against your skin. You nod, unable to find your voice just yet. He pulls back a little, his eyes searching yours. "You're going to be okay, right?" he asks, his thumb rubbing against your cheek. You finally find your voice again, and smile softly. "I'll miss you, but I'll be fine," you assure him, lifting a hand to cover his. "I'll be counting down the days until you're home, though." He chuckles lightly, giving your hip a gentle squeeze. "That's my girl," he says, the words tinged with affection. He takes a deep breath, glancing over at the suitcase by the door before looking back at you. "I should get going," he says reluctantly.

You nod, but still find yourself clinging to him. You don't want him to go, but you know he has to. "I guess so," you say, your voice almost a whisper. He sighs, leaning down to give you one more kiss, this one lingering just a bit longer than the last. "I'll see you soon," he promises, pulling away with obvious reluctance. You watch as he picks up his suitcase and heads towards the door. He pauses at the threshold, turning back to look at you once more. "I love you," he says, his voice soft and sincere. You smile, your heart swelling with emotion. "I love you too," you reply, fighting back tears. He smiles back at you, his expression tender and filled with unspoken emotions. For a moment, it feels like time stands still as you both just stand there, sharing a silent moment before he finally leaves. The door shuts behind him with a soft click, and you're left standing in the empty apartment, the silence almost deafening.

It had been three days since Clayton left for his roadie, and you were finding it increasingly difficult to distract yourself from the fact that he was gone. Despite your best efforts to keep yourself busy, you found your mind constantly drifting to him. You missed the sound of his voice, the feel of his arms around you, the way he made you laugh like no one else could. And it didn't help that the nights were the worst. You were sitting on the couch, trying to focus on a movie but failing miserably when your phone began to vibrate on the coffee table. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Clay's name flash across the screen. Without hesitation, you snatched it up and answered the call, bringing the phone to your ear. "Hello?" you said, your voice betraying your eagerness. "Hey, babe," Clayton's deep voice came through the line, and just the sound of it sent a shiver down your spine. "I was hoping you'd still be awake," he said, the sound of a door closing in the background.

"I was just up watching a movie, but I'm glad you called," you said, a smile spreading across your face. You sank back into the couch, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you just from hearing his voice. "How was your game tonight?" you asked, curious about how his team was doing on the road. "It was good. We won, thank god," he replied, a hint of exhaustion seeping into his voice. There was a pause, and you could hear him moving around, probably unpacking his things. "But I missed you tonight," he added, his words sending a small flutter of excitement through you. "I missed you too," you admitted, your fingers drumming against the couch cushion. "I miss you a lot, actually." You couldn't keep the wistful tone out of your voice, and you hoped that he couldn't tell how much you were pining for his touch. There was a soft chuckle on the other end of the line, and you could almost see the smirk on his face. "Yeah? How much do you miss me?" he teases, his voice low and seductive.

You felt a rush of heat pooling in the pit of your stomach at his words, your heartbeat quickening. "A lot. More than you know," you replied, a slight hitch in your voice. "I miss your touch. Your kisses. Your arms around me. Everything." You heard him take a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, and you could almost picture him running a hand through his hair. "You're killing me here, babe," he groaned, his voice dripping with desire. "I'm in a hotel room right now, wishing you were here with me." You let out a soft moan at his words, your body already responding to the image he was painting. "I wish I was there with you too," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I miss being in your arms. I miss feeling your skin against mine." You could hear a slightly muffled swear and him moving before hearing his voice clearly again. "Shit, you're making this so much harder for me," he growled, his voice rough with need. There was a pause, and then he spoke again, his voice low and sensual. "What are you wearing right now?" You were slightly taken aback by the sudden question, but you found yourself responding anyway. "Just one of your shirts and some shorts," you replied, a slight shiver running down your spine. You heard him groan again, and you could practically feel the heat radiating off of him even through the phone. "Fuck, that's not helping," he muttered, the sound of him shifting around again on the bed.

"You know what I've been thinking about lately?" he asked, his voice taking on a more playful tone. You hummed, curious and intrigued by the change in his tone. "What have you been thinking about?" you asked, your fingers idly playing with a loose thread on your shorts. "All the things I'm going to do to you when I get home," he replied, his voice dripping with promise. "The things I've been fantasizing about while I'm away from you." Your breath caught in your throat at his words, and you could feel your heart rate increasing. "Like what?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. He chuckled darkly, the sound sending another shiver down your spine. "Oh, I have plenty of ideas," he replied, the sound of him leaning back on the bed coming through the line. "But I think it would be more fun to show you instead of telling you."Your body responded to his words immediately, heat pooling in your core. You closed your eyes, imagining him standing there in front of you, his gaze smoldering as he looked you over. "Sounds… intriguing," you managed to say, your voice shaky with need. "Oh, it will be," he assured you, his voice low and seductive. "I'm going to make you feel things you've never felt before, babe." Your breath caught in your throat again, your body already responding to his words. "But first, I have a request. Are you up for it?"

Your curiosity was peaked, and your mind raced with possibilities. "Depends on the request," you replied, feeling a mix of trepidation and excitement. "I want you to close your eyes," he commanded, his voice smooth and commanding. "And then I want you to follow my instructions. Can you do that for me, babe?" Your heart hammered in your chest, a mix of anticipation and arousal coursing through your veins. "I can do that," you replied, your voice steady despite the excitement coursing through you. "Good girl," he said, his voice filled with approval. "Now close your eyes and focus on my voice." You obeyed, closing your eyes and leaning back into the couch. You could hear his breath through the phone, steady and sure. "Are they closed?" he asked, wanting to make sure you were following his instructions. "Yes, they're closed." Your eyes remained shut, your senses heightened as you waited for his next command. Clayton chuckled softly on the other end of the line, clearly pleased with your obedience. "Excellent," he said, his voice low and sensual. "Now, I want you to picture me there with you on the couch. Imagine my hand on your thigh, my fingers tracing the seam of your shorts." You shivered involuntarily at his words, your body responding immediately to the image he was painting.

"Imagine my breath against your neck, my lips hovering just above your skin," he continued, his voice thick with desire. "Imagine my hand moving higher up your thigh, slipping under the edge of your shorts." Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you found yourself shifting slightly on the couch as you pictured his hand moving higher up your thigh. "Can you feel my touch?" he asked, his voice a soft whisper against your ear, even though he was miles away. "Can you feel my hand moving higher and higher, inching closer to the mess between your legs?" You let out a soft moan, unable to keep it in as you pictured his hand moving further upward, the heat of his touch through the phone making you squirm uncomfortably on the couch. "You're already so wet, aren't you?" he teased, his voice filled with satisfaction. "I bet you're already dripping, just waiting for me to touch you." You let out another moan, your body clenching in response to his words. "I can imagine it now," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your legs spread wide for me, begging to be touched. Just the thought of it is driving me insane." You could hear the sound of him shifting on the hotel bed, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine.

"Tell me what you want, babe," he urged, his voice filled with need. "Tell me what you're thinking about right now." You took a deep breath, willing your body to calm down enough to form words. "I want you," you replied, your voice breathy and strained. "I want to feel your touch, your lips, your body against mine." Your words were met with a low growl on the other end of the line, and you could tell that he was just as affected as you were. "I want you to take me, please." "I will," he promised, his voice filled with desire. "I'll take you, hard and fast, just the way you like it." His words sent a jolt of excitement through you, and you felt yourself growing wetter at the thought. "But not tonight," he added, the smirk in his voice evident. "Tonight, I want you to do something for me." Your curiosity was piqued, your body already on the edge. "What do you want me to do?" you asked, your voice a mixture of anticipation and arousal. "I want you to touch yourself, but you're not allowed to finish until I say so," he told you, his voice firm and commanding. Your eyes widened at his statement, your breath catching in your throat.

"Are… are you serious?" you asked, disbelief and arousal warring within you. "Yes, I'm serious," he replied, his voice brooking no argument. "I want to hear you fall apart for me, but only when I say so." Your hesitation was evident in your silence, and he pressed on, his voice taking on a slightly gentler tone. "Can you do that for me, babe? Can you follow my instructions?" You took a deep breath, your body already trembling in anticipation. "I can do that," you replied, your voice confident despite the nervousness fluttering through your stomach. "Good," he purred, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Now, close your eyes again and focus on my voice." His voice was full of satisfaction, and you could almost imagine the smirk on his face as he spoke. "Now, I want you to touch yourself for me." Your breath hitched at his words, your body automatically responding to his command. "Slow and gentle," he instructed, his voice calm and sure. "Just like how I would touch you. Start at the top of your thigh, and then move your hand up, slowly." You obeyed, your hand sliding up your thigh, the fabric of your shorts rubbing against your skin.

"That's it, babe," he murmured, his voice like silk against your ear. "Just feel the sensations, the way your skin reacts to your touch. Imagine it's my hand on you, exploring your body, teasing you." You could feel the heat building within you, your hand moving higher and higher up your thigh, the fabric of your shorts bunching under your fingertips. "Now, move your hand inside your shorts," he directed, his voice taking on a more commanding tone. "I want you to feel how wet you are for me, how badly you want me." You let out a soft moan, your hand sliding into your shorts, your fingers finding the dampness between your legs. "God, you're so wet," he groaned, the sound of his breathing growing heavier. "I bet you're thinking about me, aren't you? About all the things I would do to you if I were there with you right now." "Yeah," you stammered, your fingers dipping lower, brushing against your clit. The sensation made you gasp, your hips bucking slightly in response. "I'm thinking about everything we talked about, about how much I want you." Your words were punctuated by a soft whimper as you rubbed your clit in slow, deliberate circles, the pleasure building with each pass. "You're driving me crazy," you admitted, your voice strained with need.

"Keep going, babe," he urged, his voice thick with desire. "Rub yourself just like that, imagine it's my fingers touching you, making you feel good." You nodded, even though he couldn't see you, your fingers continuing their torturous dance over your sensitive nub. "That's it, moan for me," he coaxed, the sound of his own heavy breathing filling the line. "Let me hear how much you enjoy it when you touch yourself because of me." Your moans grew louder, more desperate, as you chased the pleasure he had awakened within you. "F-fuck, Clayton," you stuttered, your body tensing as the pressure built inside you. "I'm getting close…" Your words trailed off into a series of high-pitched whimpers as you frantically rubbed your clit, the coil of tension within you winding tighter and tighter. "Please, I need… I need…" You couldn't even form coherent sentences anymore, lost in the haze of pleasure that threatened to consume you whole. "Babe, don't you dare cum without me," Clayton warned, his voice tight with restraint. "Not yet. Hold it together for just a little longer." With a Herculean effort, you slowed your movements, panting heavily as you struggled to regain control. "I… I can do it," you whimpered out, your hand still hovering over your aching sex.

"That's my good girl," he praised, his voice filled with pride and lust. "You're doing so well, holding back for me like a perfect little slut." The dirty words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, your body quivering with the effort of restraining your climax. "Now, I want you to slide a finger inside yourself," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. "Just one, nice and slow. Feel how wet and ready you are for me." You hesitated for only a moment before carefully pushing a finger into your slick channel, a gasp escaping your lips at the intimate contact. "Mmm, that's it," Clayton purred, clearly savoring every detail. "Sink your finger deeper, stretch yourself open for me, same as I would if I were there right now." Your finger slid deeper into your heat, the velvety walls clenching around the intrusion. You bit your lip to stifle a cry, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. "Oh god, Clayton," you breathed, your voice trembling with the effort of maintaining control. "It feels so good, but I don't know how much longer I can…" "Shh, just focus on my voice," he soothed, his tone calm and reassuring despite the clear hunger in his words. "Imagine my cock replacing your finger, stretching you wider, filling you up completely. Picture me pumping into you, claiming you as mine, making you scream my name." The vivid imagery was almost too much to bear, and you felt your resolve weakening, your body craving release with an insatiable hunger. "Don't give in yet, baby," Clayton cautioned, sensing your impending climax.

"Hold on just a little longer," he pleaded, his voice raw with desire. "I want to hear you lose control for me, but not until I say so." You nodded, even though he couldn't see you, your free hand fisting in the couch cushions as you fought to maintain your composure. "Think about my tongue on your clit," he suggested, his words dripping with carnal intent. "Imagine me licking and sucking you until you're shaking and crying out in ecstasy." The mental picture was enough to make you see stars, your hips rocking instinctively against your hand as you sought friction. Clayton chided, his tone stern. "You can't come yet, not until I allow it. Just focus on my voice and the sensations, nothing else." Your breath came in ragged gasps as you struggled to obey his commands, your entire being focused on the pleasure-pain of denying your body's urgent need for release. "I… I'm trying," you panted, your voice strained and desperate. "But it's so hard when you're talking like that, describing all the filthy things you'd do to me…" "Exactly," Clayton purred, clearly pleased with the effect he was having. "I want you consumed by thoughts of me, of all the ways I'd worship your body, make you mine. Now, curl your finger inside, rub against that spot deep within you that makes you see stars." Your finger complied, seeking out the elusive bundle of nerves that seemed to pulse with electric energy.

"That's it, right there," he groaned, his own breathing growing more labored. "Rub that sweet spot just like that, make yourself dizzy with pleasure. But remember, you're not allowed to cum yet, not until I give you permission." Your finger danced across the sensitive nub, the stimulation pushing you closer and closer to the brink. "Imagine my cock hitting that spot inside you," Clayton continued, his voice husky with arousal. "Pounding into you, stretching you, claiming you as mine. Would you like that, baby? To be filled by me, to feel me throbbing deep within you?" The fantasy was intoxicating, and you found yourself nodding, even as you tried to hold back the tide of orgasm threatening to sweep you away. "Y-yes, oh god yes," you stammered, your hips jerking erratically as you fought to maintain control. "I want that, I want you so badly, but I can't… I can't hold on much longer." Clayton's chuckle was low and menacing, sending a thrill of fear and excitement through you. "We'll see about that, won't we?" he teased, his tone dripping with wicked intent. "You're going to wait for me, aren't you, sweetheart? You're going to hold back until I tell you it's okay to let go, no matter how much you want to cum." His words were a challenge, a test of your resolve, and you knew you had to prove yourself worthy of his desires.

With a herculean effort, you forced your finger to withdraw from your aching core, the sudden absence of stimulation leaving you gasping and bereft. "You're doing so well, baby. Now, I want you to bring your hand up to your mouth and suck on your fingers, taste yourself for me." The depraved request sent a shiver down your spine, but you complied, bringing your hand to your lips and sucking your fingers clean of the evidence of your arousal. "Mmm, fuck yeah," Clayton groaned, clearly enjoying the visual. "Lick them clean, make sure you get every drop. Then, I want you to start stroking your clit again, but this time, I want you to use two fingers, nice and slow." You released your fingers from your mouth with a soft pop, tasting the salty tang of your own essence on your tongue. The act was oddly erotic, and you felt a surge of heat course through your veins at the thought of pleasing Clayton in such a debauched manner. With a shaky hand, you brought your fingers back to your clit, applying a gentle pressure as you began to stroke in slow, deliberate circles. "Ohhh, fuck," you moaned, the dual stimulation sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your nerve endings. "This is… it's so intense…" Clayton's praise was music to your ears, spurring you on as you continued to tease your sensitive nub. "That's it, baby, work that clit just like that. Show me how much you love touching yourself for me."

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, as you increased the pace of your fingers, chasing the elusive peak of pleasure. "You're doing so beautifully, sweetheart," Clayton praised, his voice thick with lust. "I can practically hear your pussy dripping for me, can't you?" The crude comment pushed you closer to the edge, your hips bucking wildly as you rode the crest of sensation. "Almost there, huh?" he taunted, his tone laced with sadistic glee. "Yes, oh god, yes!" you cried out, your voice cracking with the strain of holding back. "I'm so close, Clayton, so fucking close!" Your fingers moved faster, the slick glide of your arousal allowing for a frantic tempo that bordered on brutal. "Please, I need… I need…" The plea hung in the air, unfinished and desperate, as you teetered on the precipice of orgasm. Clayton's chuckle was low and menacing, a sound that sent shivers down your spine even as it fueled your arousal. "Not yet, baby," he commanded, his voice a dark purr. "Not until I say so. You're going to wait for me, aren't you? You're going to hold back and beg for my permission to cum, just like a good little slut."

The cruel words snapped you back from the brink, your body shuddering as you struggled to rein in your climax. "Please, Clayton," you whimpered, your voice broken and pleading. "I can't… I can't hold on much longer. Please, let me cum for you, just once, I promise I'll be good." Your fingers stilled against your clit, your entire being focused on the desperate bid for release. "Such a pretty begging," Clayton crooned, his tone dripping with approval. "I think you've earned it, baby. Cum for me now, let go and paint your thighs with your juices while I listen to you fall apart." With those final words, the dam broke, and you surrendered to the torrent of pleasure, your body convulsing in a violent climax as you screamed Clayton's name into the void. As the waves of ecstasy crashed over you, you felt your orgasm ripple through your body, your muscles tensing and relaxing in rhythmic pulses. Your cries of pleasure echoed through the empty room, a primal expression of the sheer bliss that coursed through your veins. Through it all, Clayton listened intently, his own breathing heavy and labored as he savored the sounds of your release. When the aftershocks finally subsided, leaving you gasping and spent, you collapsed back onto the couch, your heart pounding in your chest. "Wow," you managed to choke out, your voice hoarse from screaming. "That was… amazing." Clayton's laughter was warm and satisfied, a sound that filled you with a sense of contentment and belonging. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, baby," he said, his tone softening.

"You have no idea how much I loved hearing you fall apart for me," he confessed, his voice filled with tenderness and desire. "The way you begged, the way you screamed my name… it was incredible." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "And you did so well, holding back until I gave you permission. Such a good girl, following my instructions to the letter." A soft chuckle escaped him, filled with amusement and admiration. "I think we both needed that, didn't we? A chance to let loose and indulge in some much-needed pleasure before I come back home." You smiled weakly, still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. "Definitely," you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I needed that so badly. And knowing you enjoyed it just as much… it makes it even sweeter." You let out a contented sigh, feeling a deep connection to Clayton that went beyond physical attraction. "I can't wait until you're back, until we can do this in person," you confessed, a hint of longing in your tone. "I miss you, Clayton. More than you know." There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, you worried that you might have said too much. But then, Clayton's voice returned, warm and reassuring. "I miss you too, baby. More than anything. Until then, just rest and recover."

"Rest and recover," you repeated softly, the words a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. "Okay, I will. For you." You snuggled deeper into the couch, feeling the warmth of your own afterglow seep into your bones. "Thank you, Clayton," you whispered, your gratitude genuine and heartfelt. "For everything. You always know just what I need." Another soft chuckle reached your ears, this one tinged with affection. "That's what I'm here for, sweetheart. Now, get some sleep. I'll talk to you soon." With a tender goodbye, Clayton ended the call, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the lingering echoes of pleasure.

[kell9rs]

thinking about how clayton would be the sweetest boyfriend in the world. how he’d never let you worry about anything because why would you need to be worrying about stuff when he’s literally right there?

you’d find your water bottle always refilled in the mornings after you swore you’d drank all the water at night. and when you’d ask him about it? he’d act totally clueless. doesn’t have a clue in the world but you can definitely tell it was him because of how hard he’s trying to hold back that smile that brings his dimple out.

he’d introduce you to his family almost immediately after meeting you because he’s never, ever felt this way about anyone and he never wants to let you go because he’s sure this is it. that you are it for him.

he wouldn’t let you spiral into your thoughts when the two of you would be getting ready to go to dinner with his parents. you’d want to make a good impression because you know how much his parents mean to him, and how close he is to them. he’d constantly reassure you that they’d love you. that he would be right there by your side the whole time, holding your hand and all you needed to do was be your sweet self, and everyone would fall in love with you. (but no one could have you, you were his, and his only.)

you’re stressed out about your parents health now that you’ve moved away from their state? he’s booked you a flight to go visit them for the weekend, and he asks you to tell them how he wishes so desperately he could be there because he loves your parents. almost as much as he loves you.

you’re stressed out about work? he’s closing your laptop, taking your glasses off your face, and pulling your hair into a messy ponytail. he’s leading you over to the shower, helping you wash your hair and your body before helping you dry off, and then drying your hair - trying to.

he helps you get into one of his big shirts that he knows you like and gently pulling you into his chest, rubbing your shoulders to massage all the knots out of there. he presses soft kisses into your hairline, and all over your forehead while whispering, “you stress yourself out so much, baby.” and you just quietly hum in response, because you know he’s right.

but you also know that he’s always right there to take care of you. always.

[perreqult]

NEEDY ✶ clayton keller

summary: clayton can’t help but get needy when you’re finishing up breakfast

word count: 1.0k

contains: smut, p in v (unprotected— no no), oral (fem. receiving), swearing, sort of praise?, think that’s it.

notes: should’ve been sleeping instead of writing this but he’s been infiltrating my brain

You’re just about to finish up with breakfast when you suddenly feel two strong arms clamp around your waist, surprising you and making your attempt to cut a pancake jagged.

“So, you almost finished up in here?” Clayton asks you, coming up from behind and hugging your figure tightly. You giggle, turning your head a few degrees to look at him out of your peripheral.

“Yeah. You need attention or something?” You joke to him, loosening from his grip to fully turn around and face him, looking up into his big, bright eyes.

He grips your hips and pulls you close to him, resting his head on your shoulder. “Yeah.” He responds in a low, needy voice as he starts grazing his teeth over the expanse of your neck.

You’re taken aback as he starts to bite down, strengthening the grip on your hips even more as he does so. When he bites down extra hard you let out a whimper, tilting your head back.

He moves his hand towards your ass and grasps it tightly. “You’re pretty needy today, aren’t you?” You say to him, pulling him away from your body and tilting his to look at you.

“Just shut up and let me fuck you.” He tells you, in a deep sultry, voice, pulling you in for a kiss, dipping his tongue into your mouth as your lips interlock. You moan around his tongue when he palms your breasts through your shirt.

“Take this off.” He tells you through a breath when he pulls away, slightly demanding, as he tugs at your shirt, signaling what he wants off. You groan and nod your head as you pull your—his— old coyotes shirt over your head.

He stares at your covered breasts, licking his lips in desire. “Want this off too, baby.” He looks down at your bra, then back up at you, signaling to you what he wants discarded. “Want everything off.” He adds.

You undo the clips to your bra as it falls to the floor, leaving your upper half completely exposed to his eyes. He takes his shirt off and reveals his toned upper body. He continues and yanks his sweatpants he went to sleep in down to his ankles and kick them off.

He stops before he removes his underwear. Instead he lifts you up and plops you down on the counter. He proceeds to tug your panties off, gawking at the sight of your soaking pussy.

“Been missing this all mornin’.” He mumbles, practically drooling at the sight as he gets onto his knees and looks up into your eyes. He scoots you forward before he dips into your heat, starting to press his tounge over your core, nose nudging your clut as you release a loud, high pitched moan.

You can’t help but yell out his name, over and over, as he laps at your cunt, spreading his tongue cover and spear the expanse of your heat, licking up and down everywhere, seeking your pleasure.

All you can do is throw your head back in ecstasy and latch your hands into his thick hair. “Oh fuck. Clay’.” You squeal out in pleasure. He moans into your cunt when you yank his head to exactly where you want him, sending blissful vibrations through your core.

“Mmm.. fuck. More Clay’ please.” You wail, gripping your counter and clenching your legs as Clayton drives you closer to your peak. “Oh, fuck. I’m gonna.. fuck i’m gonna come.” You stutter out, feeling your orgasm approach.

You come on his tongue with your eyes rolled back, wailing anything you can muster up— his name, curses, random babbles that can barely considered words— you’re too overwhelmed by the feeling.

“So good for me, baby.” He says, looking up at you with dazed eyes, chin and mouth dripping with your wetness and release. “Gonna take my cock good, too?” He asks you, getting up from his knees and wiping his mouth off.

You nod quickly, with a tired and fucked out expression lying on your face. “Good. Gonna fucking you real good.” He tells you, slipping down his underwear, letting his length slip out.

You almost moan seeing it, waiting for Clay’ to slip inside you. He takes your legs and wraps them around his waist, gaining a tight hold on your hips. “Y’ready, baby?” He asks, grinning. “Hell yeah.” You tell him almost immediately.

He doesn’t respond and just draws you closer to thrust inside your entrance. You cry out in pleasure, gripping his shoulders tightly. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as Clayton draws in even deeper, him letting out a low moan himself. “Mmph… being so good f’me. Taking me so well.” He groans out, starting to spark deep, slow thrusts. You moan out everytime he reaches deep inside of you.

He continues for what feels like forever, not stopping for a moment. Just enclosed in pleasure and ecstasy everytime he draws back in and out. Your kitchen is soon enveloped in loud and desperate moans.

You get closer and closer to your release and Clayton’s thrust grow sloppier and more needy and his groans evolve into low, load moans. “Fuck. Y’gonna make me come. Squeezing on me so good.” He affirms you, looking straight into your eyes.

You clench onto his length tight, drawing out a near wail out of him, when you draw close to your orgasm. You mumble and sputter out random things when you start coming on his cock and he lets his release flood your hole.

“Breakfasts all cold now.” You joke at him, running your hands through his soft hair. “Don’t care. This was so worth it, baby.” He says, grinning at you.

[cailinsblog]

Collisions and love | Clayton Keller

Clayton Keller x reader

Send in request and please reblog pookies

The hallway leading to the media offices at Mullett Arena was quiet, save for the rapid clicking of Y/N’s boots on the linoleum floor. Her heart raced as she glanced at her watch. *Five minutes until the meeting starts.* She cursed under her breath, clutching a stack of papers and her ever-essential coffee cup. The life of an intern was chaotic, and today was no exception.

As she rounded the corner at full speed, she slammed into something—or rather, someone—solid and unyielding.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Y/N gasped, feeling the familiar sense of dread wash over her. She knew exactly who she’d bumped into before even looking up.

Clayton Keller stumbled back slightly but recovered quickly, his hands instinctively going out to steady her. “Whoa, hey, it’s okay,” he said, his voice warm and steady. “Are you okay?”

Y/N’s papers scattered everywhere, but miraculously, her coffee remained intact. She dropped to her knees immediately, frantically gathering the loose sheets. “No, no, it’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Clayton crouched down to help, his dark practice gear making him look effortlessly cool despite the early hour. “Here, let me help you,” he offered, his hand already reaching for a stray paper near his foot.

Y/N waved him off, her voice rushed. “No, really, I’ve got it. I’m just—ugh—I’m always rushing.” She groaned softly, her watch catching her eye. “Crap, crap, crap. I’m going to be late!”

Without waiting for further help, she snatched the last paper from the floor and scrambled to her feet. “Thanks, but I’ve got to run!” she said over her shoulder, already halfway down the hall.

Clayton watched her go, an amused smile tugging at his lips. As he stood, he noticed one last piece of paper lying near his skate bag. He picked it up, his eyes scanning the top. It looked official—something about a media schedule and player photo assignments.

“Guess you’ll be needing this,” he muttered to himself. He glanced down the hall, but Y/N was already out of sight. With no time to chase her down, he folded the paper carefully and slipped it into the pocket of his hoodie.

---

The next two days were a whirlwind of activity for Y/N. The team had several shoots lined up, and the stress of coordinating schedules, props, and locations was weighing heavily on her. But nothing compared to the panic of realizing she was missing *the* paper.

She had torn her office apart three times, checked her bag, and even retraced her steps in the hallway. Nothing. It was gone. And with it, her peace of mind.

“If I don’t find that schedule, I’m toast,” she muttered, slumping into her chair.

Her boss had been patient so far, but she knew that patience wouldn’t last. Especially not with deadlines looming.

---

By day three, Y/N was running on little sleep and a lot of caffeine. She barely registered the familiar surroundings as she sped through the hallway again, her thoughts consumed by the ever-growing list of tasks.

And once again, she turned a corner and collided—hard—with Clayton Keller.

“Oh, come on,” she groaned, stumbling backward.

Clayton caught her by the shoulders, steadying her with a laugh. “You’ve really got to slow down,” he teased.

Y/N sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. “Sorry, again. I swear I’m not trying to make this a habit.”

Before she could launch into another apology, Clayton reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out the folded sheet of paper. “I think this is yours. You dropped it the other day.”

Y/N froze, her eyes widening as she recognized the missing document. “No way.” She snatched it from his hands, holding it up as if it were a lost treasure. “Oh my god, I’ve been looking *everywhere* for this goddamn paper. You just saved my life.”

Clayton grinned. “Glad I could help. I was starting to wonder when I’d see you again to give it back.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, her nerves finally easing for the first time in days. “Well, considering how often I run into you, it was only a matter of time.”

They stood there for a moment, the bustling arena around them fading into the background. Y/N glanced up at him, really seeing him for the first time—his hazel eyes warm, his smile soft yet confident.

“I’m Y/N,” she said suddenly, realizing they’d never properly introduced themselves.

“Clayton,” he replied, offering a hand.

She took it, and the simple touch sent a surprising jolt through her. They held each other’s gaze, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fall away.

Then her watch beeped again, snapping her back to reality.

“Ah, crap,” Y/N muttered, tucking the paper into her bag. “I’m late again.”

Clayton chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You really need a new watch.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Thanks again, Clayton. I owe you one.”

Before she could dart away, Clayton took a step closer. “Actually, if you want to repay me, how about grabbing coffee sometime?”

Y/N blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Coffee?”

“Yeah.” Clayton shrugged, his easy smile making her heart skip a beat. “You know, when you’re not running late.”

She hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Okay. Coffee sounds great.”

Clayton pulled out his phone. “Can I get your number?”

Y/N smiled, taking his phone and typing it in. “There you go. Don’t lose that, or I’ll never forgive you.”

He laughed, pocketing his phone. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Y/N glanced at her watch again, biting her lip. “I really have to go, but… I’ll be waiting for that text.”

“Count on it,” Clayton said, watching her disappear down the hall once more.

This time, though, she left with a smile, and Clayton couldn’t help but feel like their hallway collisions were the best part of his week.

---

Later that evening, Y/N’s phone buzzed with a new message.

**Clayton:** *Hey, it’s your favorite collision partner. Coffee tomorrow?*

Y/N grinned, her fingers flying across the screen.

**Y/N:** *Only if you promise not to spill it when I bump into you again.*

The rest, as they say, was history.

[toasttt11]

sunflower

August 15, 2022

Viola had come back to Montreal a few weeks before Cole as school and her season was starting before his so she was home alone for a few weeks while Cole visited his family.

Viola was going to go on the date today that she has had planned with Maveric for almost a month now. They haven’t been able to see each other in almost five months.

Viola was zipping up her last knee high boot when she heard her doorbell ring, she looked at herself in the mirror once more, she was wearing a plaid skirt with a white sweater and black knee high boots. “Coming!” Viola called out as she grabbed her phone and put it into her purse and slipped her purse over her head.

Viola walked through the apartment and opened the door, she looked up into her favorite pair of eyes and smiled sweetly.

Maveric beamed back and quickly took a step forward picking her up into a tight hug and started spinning them around.

Viola squealed as he picked her up and started giggling once he spun them around, she had her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and buried her head in the crock of his neck.

Maveric chuckled loudly at her giggles but slowly stopped spinning them and gently set her feet back to the floor. He wanted to see her gorgeous face in person but she seemed content to hide in his neck.

“Giggles.” Maveric soflty cooed, feeling her warm cheeks on his neck and smiled softly loving how any nickname or pet name makes her melt for him, “Come on i want to see your gorgeous face.”

Viola blinked rapidly but reluctantly pulled away and looked up at him through her lashes, “Hi.” Viola soflty mumbled biting her lip.

“Hello Belle.” Maveric softly mumbled back and Viola tried not to fold at his extra strong accent when he speaks french.

Viola leaned up on her toes to be closer to his face even though she is quite tall he is still a whole foot taller than her. Her hands started fiddling with the nape of his neck.

Maveric watched her intently looking over her face multiple times wanting to make sure he didn’t miss any changes he couldn’t see over the phone.

“Are you going to kiss me now?” Viola teased him with a flirtatious smirk, remembering when they almost kissed at the end of last season.

“There is nothing i would like more.” Maveric lovingly mumbled leaning his head down closer to hers, he could only hear the sound of his heartbeat in his ear and his nose was filled with her perfume she always wears.

Viola smiled wider making her dimples come out and Maveric gently brought his hands up from her waist to her face and gently cupped her face. His thumb gently caressed her dimple and then her cheekbone before he eventually pulled her even closer making their noses gently bump against each other.

Viola kept her eyes flickering between his lips and eyes before she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his softly but definitely desperately.

They both let out identical sighs of reliefs as their lips finally touched. Viola’s hands moved from the bottom of his neck to through out his hair, running through his curls.

Maveric brought one of his hands to the back of her neck gently pulling her closer as his other hand rested on her lower back.

Viola gently pulled away but stayed close enough her nose was still touching his, “Will you be my boyfriend now Mav?” Viola sweetly smiled batting her eyelashes up at him, flirting with him.

“As long as you want me Ma Belle.” Maveric softly promised leaning back down and pressing multiple kisses to her dimples making her giggle and squeal trying to move away but Maveric held her there.

“Mav!” Viola giggled and Maveric smiled and kissed her cheek once more before reluctantly stopping.

“Now i believe i promised your date.” Maveric reluctantly stepped back but still held out his hand for her and Viola smiled happily grabbing his hand intertwining it with hers.

Viola locked the front door and they walked down the hallway and into the elevator, Maveric hit the lobby button before standing back next to Viola and pressed a soft kiss to her head. Viola made a hall sound and leaned her head on his arm and closing her eyes contently as the elevator started the long ride down to the bottom floor.

Finally the elevator opened and Maveric and Viola walked out and walked through the front lobby to the parking outside where Maveric left his car.

Maveric led them to his car and he unlocked his car and opened the passenger seat for her letting Viola hop in, he leaned over pressing a soft kiss to her lips before sadly stepping back and closing the door.

Maveric walked around the car and walked to the back door and opened it and grabbed something before shutting the door and opening the drivers door and hopping in, he pulled out a bouquet of sunflowers, Viola’s favorite flower.

“For you giggles.” Maveric soflty spoke handing the bouquet to her, Viola smiled softly feeling extremely touched because no one has ever gotten her a bouquet of her favorite flowers, sure when she was younger after a hockey game once or twice she got flowers from her family but never just because and sunflowers.

“Thank you.” Viola softly beamed at her now boyfriend and leaned over pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“Always.” Maveric winked at with a soft smile and gently grabbed her hand pressing a kiss to the back of it before intertwining their hands and resting them on her thigh, “Now i believe i owe you a date?”

Viola beamed and nodded happily back.

[ilyasorokinn]

can you do clayton keller where y'all get into a huge argument & you walk out, so he freaks out and drives around to find you

WORK PARTIES

i love clayton keller so much and he deserves so much and he is so slay! also, i kind of changed the prompt around a little, but it mostly follows it.

"clayton, i'm sorry, i really am, but it's just one party." you sighed, rubbing your forehead.

"where's marcy? why can't she go with you?" he asked.

"she has plans. i tried to find someone else to go with me, but you really are my last resort. i already signed up with a date."

every year, your company would have a little party just so everyone could mingle and clayton hated going to those things. he hated team events because he didn't like faking smiles for hours and sweet talk people. it was overstimulating for him at times.

"so why can't you just go without one?"

"because i just can't." you sighed.

"y/n, i don't want to go." he groaned.

"fine." you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, slamming it as you walked down the hallway.

as the door slammed shut, clayton was left alone with his thoughts and the more he thought about it, the more he realized how much it really meant to you.

he groaned, rubbing his eyes as he realized what he had to do. he got up and, as quickly as he could, got dressed in the most formal outfit he could put together on short notice.

he was in the car and driving through the streets near your house, trying to find out. your office was fairly close to your apartment, so you usually walked to work.

luckily for him, you didn't make it too far and were walking down this street, a sad look on your face which successfully broke his heart.

"y/n..." he rolled down the window and shouted. you froze, "i'm sorry." he drove slowly alongside you as you kept walking, "i know it means a lot to you for me to be there, so here i am."

"that's the worst apology ever." you crossed your arms.

"i know." he sighed.

"i know you hate these parties, and i really did ask everyone i knew but for some reason, today is a very popular day to plan parties cause everyone else was busy."

"well, i'm here now." he smiled, stopping the car.

you sighed, "last one, i promise."

"are there those finger sandwiches? that was always the best part of those parties."

"yes, i checked just for you."

"we might just survive this party then." he switched gears before reaching for your hand as he drove off.

again, requests are closed :)

[chukys-mouthguard]

2024 Advent Calendar: NHL Edition 🎄

Nothing says the holidays like an advent calendar…but this advent calendar is a little different.

5 surprise fics/blurbs featuring 5 of my favorite NHL men!

Day 5 🎁Ugly Sweater Weather (fluff/suggested smut)

-> featuring: Matthew Knies

Day 4 🎁 Don’t Be a Scrooge (angst/fluff)

-> featuring: Clayton Keller

Day 3 🎁 Memories Missed (angst)

-> featuring: Cam York

Day 2 🎁 The Greatest Gift (fluff)

-> featuring: ?

Day 1 🎁 Keep You Warm (smut)

-> featuring: ?

[onlyquinns]

speaking of smooches i’m gonna give you a smooch if you write a fic where you wake clay up with smooches all over his face, just seeing that sweet dimple on his sleepy face, brushing your hand through his long hair. god, i love that handsome boy.

omg reciprocal smooch??? thank you anon!!

sunlight slips through the bedroom windows, filtering through the cracks between the slats in the blinds. clayton's alarm goes off on his nightstand, unheard by him and playing an obnoxious song--one that you've woken up to a hundred times.

you sit up and reach over his sleeping form for his phone, pressing the stop button to silence the little device, and put it back down next to his other miscellaneous nightstand items.

clayton snores peacefully next to you, curled up on his side with the thick duvet wrapped around his hips. his cheek is pressed into his pillow, hair and chain sprawled out around his face like a little circular frame. you brush your fingers along his side, causing him to stir slightly and roll onto his back, his body's halfhearted attempt to fight off the lingering pressure of your hand to continue sleeping.

"clay," you murmur softly, leaning over his body to get a good look at his peaceful expression. "you're going to be late for practice. even lucky's awake," you tell him, peering at the dog by his feet as his tail thumps in rhythm against the sheets.

clayton doesn't stir. instead, he reaches down and pulls the comforter higher up to cover his stomach. you let out a huff and gently cup his cheeks.

"baby, wake up," you say, brushing your lips across his forehead.

clayton grumbles and shifts in his sleep, head tilting into your touch before he stops moving altogether. you giggle softly and press another kiss to his skin, lips tracing along the slope of his nose then across his cheeks. lucky sits up from his spot and pads over to you, paws sinking into the mattress as he walks.

"wanna help me wake daddy?" you ask him, taking a hand to brush behind the dog's ears. lucky's mouth opens in response, tongue hanging out.

you grin and turn your attention back to clayton and begin pressing more kisses to his face--a little harder than before. lucky joins you, lapping at clayton's cheeks and jaw and leaving a trail of slobber. clayton groans, suddenly awake.

"i'm up," he insists with a throaty laugh, voice heavy with sleep. a large pats against lucky's chest and then pushes him away with a gentle shove.

"morning, clay," you whisper, thumbs brushing across his cheekbones.

his eyes flutter shut and a slow smile spreads across his lips at the sight of you over him, morning light making you glow nearly angel-like, and his little dimple is on full display. you brush one last kiss to the little indent on his cheek, listening to the deep, contented sigh that leaves his mouth.

you're about to remind him of his morning practice when his arms loop over your hips, and he tugs, dropping you onto your side. he pulls you flush against his chest, hands smoothing up and down your spine and your side.

"just five more minutes," he tells you, chin tucked into the top of your head.

"okay," you relent. "five more minutes."

[hockeyluvrr]

no I’m not in love for clayton keller being posted at 10pm UK time today, I actually really love this one ngl 😁

[blakeswritingimagines]

Them Having A Crush On You

Quinn Hughes: When around a crush, Quinn tends to become more nervous and self-conscious than usual. He may find it difficult to maintain eye contact and speak confidently, instead becoming more reserved and quiet. He may also subconsciously preen and groom himself more often, such as fixing his hair or adjusting his clothes. On the other hand, he may also try to impress you by bragging about his accomplishments or skills. Quinn is also likely to go out of his way to be near you, such as sitting next to you or finding excuses to start conversations.

Jack Hughes: When Jack has a crush on someone, he becomes extra charming and attentive. He'll go out of his way to show you special attention, whether it's holding the door open for you or giving you a small gift. He'll also make an extra effort to look his best whenever he knows he'll be seeing you, and he tends to be more affectionate with you than with others - lightly touching your arm or shoulder, using pet names, etc. He tends to get nervous around you as well, blushing easily and stuttering occasionally.

Luke Hughes: Luke can become nervous and flustered around you. He may stumble over his words or have trouble articulating his thoughts. He may also find himself staring at you more than usual and be more aware of your presence. Luke might also go out of his way to be near you and engage in conversations with you. He could also be more self-conscious about his appearance, making sure he looks his best when around you.

Nico Hischier: When Nico has a crush on someone, he’s always trying his best to impress you. He’s always trying to make himself look good around you, wearing his best outfits and trying to look his best. He also tends to be extra sweet and charming towards you, telling you how special you are and always trying to make you feel comfortable. Nico may also get nervous around you, and he might find himself stuttering or getting tongue-tied when he talks to you. Despite his nervousness, Nico is also very protective of you and will do anything to make you happy.

Timo Meier: Around you, Timo may become a bit more nervous and self-conscious. He may find himself stuttering or stumbling over his words or having difficulty maintaining eye contact. He may also be more attentive to your needs and desires and may try to make you feel comfortable and at ease. He may also be more likely to spend extra time and effort on his appearance and may be more likely to make an effort to impress you. Overall, Timo may be somewhat more vulnerable and sensitive when around you.

Dawson Mercer: When he’s around his crush, Dawson becomes much more shy and reserved, his usual confident and outgoing demeanor transforming into more of a quiet and nervous energy. He becomes more self-conscious and careful with his words, trying to be extra careful not to say anything that might make him sound dumb. Dawson may also find himself constantly glancing over at you, trying to steal quick glances. He may also try to find ways to impress you, showing off his skills and trying his best to make you notice him. Despite his nervousness, Dawson can still be his usual charming self at times.

John Marino: When John is crushing on someone, he tends to be a little more awkward than usual. He gets easily distracted around you, and his usual confident demeanor is replaced with nervousness. He may try to get closer to you physically, like moving his chair closer to yours during a conversation or finding reasons to touch you on your arm or shoulder. He might also try to make you laugh or show off a little bit, like telling jokes or bragging about his hockey skills.

Kirby Dach: When Kirby is around someone he has feelings for, he tends to be more shy and reserved than usual. He may find himself tripping over his words and blushing when he talks to you, and he may be more aware of his mannerisms than usual. Kirby may also try to make sure that he looks his best and may go out of his way to show his interest in subtle ways, such as paying extra attention to your conversations and finding ways to spend more time with you.

Juraj Slafkovsky: When Juraj has a crush on someone, he tends to become a bit more self-conscious and shy when you're around. He may try to impress you by doing things like showing off his skills on the ice or making jokes and trying to make you laugh. Juraj may also go out of his way to spend time with you by inviting you to hang out with him. He might even try to be extra nice and attentive, making an effort to remember things about you and asking you questions. When he's around his crush, Juraj finds himself feeling more nervous and butterflies in his stomach.

Arber Xhekaj: When Arber has a crush on someone, he exhibits a few telltale signs. He might try to make you laugh by cracking jokes or telling stories, and may even go out of his way to spend time with you. He might also become more attentive to your needs and more willing to help you out. Arber may also try to show off his skills or talents, in hopes of impressing you. He might get a little nervous or tongue-tied when speaking to you, or try to find excuses to touch you or be near you.

Cole Caufield: He’d act a little shy and awkward at first, but would try to hide it. He’d make an effort to talk to you and engage in conversation, though he may stumble over his words a little. He might also find himself stealing glances at you when you're not looking, and would likely be quick to jump at any opportunity to spend time with you, even if it’s just doing something small or casual.

Kaiden Guhle: When Kaiden has a crush on someone, he tends to act a little differently than usual. He may find himself blushing more frequently, and become more reserved or shy whenever you're around. He may also try to find subtle ways to be near you, or engage in conversations with you. He may be more nervous and stutter when talking to you. Kaiden may also go out of his way to do kind gestures for you, like bringing you small gifts or offering to help with tasks. Despite his nervousness around you, Kaiden still tries to be confident and make a good impression.

Jamie Drysdale: When Jamie has a crush on someone, he tends to get nervous and awkward in your presence. He may find himself stumbling over his words or blushing unexpectedly. He'll want to impress you, so he might try to show off a little, like lifting heavy things or cracking jokes. But he can also become fiercely protective of you and will defend you against anyone. He’ll go out of his way to be near you and will find reasons to touch you and spoil you.

Matt Rempe: When Matt has taken notice of someone he finds attractive, he will often become overly nervous around you. His usual confidence and charisma seem to vanish, replaced by a sudden sense of self-consciousness. He'll trip over his words, or worse, remain silent. He'll be hyper-aware of every movement and gesture he makes, constantly checking to see if his crush is noticing. It's like he's lost his composure, and he seems almost like a different person. He's not the cool, composed hockey player he usually is, but rather a nervous, stumbling mess.

Auston Matthews: Auston is a very confident person, but when he has a crush on someone, he can become a bit more shy and self-conscious around you. He might find himself stumbling over his words or blushing more than usual when he talks to you. He tries to dress better and put more care into his appearance, and he blushes easily around you while flirting with you.

Clayton Keller: Clayton acts more nervous around his crush, especially if he's never talked to you yet. He smiles at you, steals glances from you, and tries to say clever things to impress you. Clayton is also a very considerate person, so he might go out of his way to do something nice for you, whether it's buying you a small gift or just lending a helping hand with anything you might need. He can be a bit of a romantic, and he might find himself constantly thinking about you and finding new ways to win your affection.