Hi, welcome to my page. Feel free to send in asks 😊. Do be sure to check my tags, as I may have already answered a question you have in mind. My tags work as follows: players' first letter of name, full last name (e.g: j.hughes), I also put a team tag on all posts as well (e.g: njd)
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You knew a lot about Mikko. You knew he was funny and goofy and easily excitable. You knew that if you walked into his apartment (even after knocking and waiting at least thirty seconds) there was a good chance that he wouldn’t be fully clothed. You knew that you kinda sorta loved him. And you knew that he was utterly oblivious. Which is exactly why you danced around him for such an embarrassingly long time.
After an at-home win, you tagged along with Mikko and the rest of the guys to whatever bar they were into at the moment. The adrenaline from cheering them on and the rush of the arena made you lose your inhibitions a bit even without alcohol. Which is precisely why you trailed behind the rest of the group. And when you stumbled over to their U-shaped booth there were no seats left, leaving you to dramatically sigh and mumble something about going to grab a chair. You felt a hand snake around your wrist and turned to see Mikko patting his lap, you didn’t need any clarification because these types of things always seemed to happen when you two were together. So without another word you slid into his lap. Everyone else seemed to fade away just a bit. You couldn’t seem to focus on the joke Josty was telling or the girls who were trying to buy Gabe a drink even though he kept very obviously flashing his wedding band. It was just your heartbeat and Mikko’s thumb rubbing circles on your thigh. These were the times when it was a little too easy to forget that you and Mikko weren’t you and Mikko. You were friends. Close friends. Handsy friends. But friends nonetheless.
“Where are you going,” he mumbles after you’ve tapped his arm to let you up. The group of you had only been at the bar for about an hour but it was starting to hit you that you’d been up since six-in-the-morning with no real downtime. You turn to him and smile a little, “I’m going home.” He throws on an exaggerated pout and shakes his head which just makes you giggle and continue to try and free yourself. Finally, Mikko stands up with his arms still wrapped tightly around you.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re going.”
“I didn’t invite you to come home with me, Mikko,” you try to scold him but it’s so hard to be even fake mad at him.
“Who says we were going to your place?”
As it turns out not going to your place meant that he was taking you to the 24-hour diner nearby and ordering milkshakes and fries. It wasn’t long after you and Mikko had become friends that you’d started taking him here. And it wasn’t long after that that he’d developed a fondness for dipping the salty fries into the sweet dessert. The only problem with going was that you had to keep it a secret from Nate but that wasn’t too hard since both of you mutually would do whatever it took to avoid him being mad at you. Between Nate and Gabe you got your fair share of lectures. Nate was a bit more of a disciplinarian, crossing his arms across his chest before referencing his diet and exercise plan. Gabe’s hurt more because he would pull that whole I’m-not-mad-I’m-just-disappointed-thing, but at least he would always end it on a pep talk and a funny joke.
While you were a lost in your thoughts, Mikko took the opportunity to snag your milkshake and drink half of it in one sip.
“Hey,” you shouted, reaching across the booth to slap whatever of him you could reach, “now I’m going to get your germs!” Instead of responding or apologizing to you, he just clutched his temples repeating “brain-freeze.” It was hard to be sympathetic towards him and his brain-freeze after he stole your drink and still had a bit of hot fudge dripping down his chin, so you just leaned back against the upholstery. You had a smirk on your face as he was clearly trying to milk this for all it was worth to get you to laugh and forgive him. “Oh poor baby,” you said in a sickly sweet, teasing voice. And then a yelp from you as he swiftly kicked you underneath the table.
The first real turning point in your relationship came during a team barbeque. The sun hadn’t even set yet but Mikko had already managed to get a little past tipsy because apparently watching other people cook was too boring for him to do sober. You were sipping at a lemonade when Gabe came to stand beside you. Since you were at an advantage being sober and all you used it as an opportunity to get some certifiable blackmail material on your dear sweet best friend. This came in the form of daring him to do a cartwheel. You had your phone recording him as he tried to square his stance. He looked up at you across the yard and you counted to three to try to coax him into actually doing it. The cartwheel ended up not being all that bad. His blood-alcohol level worked against his upper body strength but he ended up landing on his feet… even if he did end up rolling on to his ass not ten seconds later.
You were fully aware that the majority of the video would end up just being your hysterical laughter but it was well worth it to get Mikko’s gymnastics prowess on video. As you put your phone in your back pocket, Gabe spoke up.
“He really is something isn’t he?”
“Mikko? Yeah, definitely.”
After your response, Gabe turned his body to fully face you and put a hand on your shoulder. “(Y/N), I’m not in charge of you, I’m not your captain. But I still feel like it might be my job to give it to you straight,” he said. You didn’t know how to respond to this so you just raised an eyebrow.
“Listen, Mikko really likes you. You really like Mikko. We both know he’s not going to make a move… so do you see what I’m getting at?”
“Ummm…” was the only response you could find. Gabe sighed deeply in a way that almost made you a bit offended.
“(Y/N). I’m telling you right now. If you want to get with that,” he waved his hand in Mikko’s direction, “in the next millennium, it’s going to be on you.”
Gabe’s words had haunted you for the next two weeks. They were said in a teasing tone but they were all too real. You knew he was right. Mikko wasn’t going to bring long-stemmed roses to your door and give you some dramatic speech about how you’re the one for him. If anything was going to happen between you it was probable that it would be based on you asking him out. And, like, are you confident in yourself? Yeah. Are you independent and funny and smart? Definitely. The problem was that you knew that you couldn’t live without Mikko as your friend. The chances that he would flat out reject you and then block your number were low, you’d admit that. But the what-ifs got to you more than you’d care to admit.
Which is why you’d been hesitant to accept Mikko’s invitations to hang out. You’d declined his FaceTimes even though they were your nightly tradition. You even skipped their latest home game, texting Mikko after the fact to say that you were just too busy that night. And in all his obliviousness Mikko still knew you so when he confronted you and asked why you were avoiding him you knew you’d have to face the music and see him face to face even if it killed you. Which is how you found yourself in his kitchen cooking dinner for the two of you. You’d gone shopping before you came since there was very little you could make with his cabinet of Finnish coffee.
A soft Spotify playlist was going in the background when Mikko came into the kitchen freshly showered with wet hair, still smelling like his body wash.
“(Y/N), change the soooonnnnggggg,” he whined as he made his way towards you.
“Why,” you said. If you were going to come over to Mr. Millionaire’s house and cook dinner for him you felt like you could put on whatever songs you wanted, even though you were already reaching for your phone to change it to a different playlist.
“We can’t dance to this,” was his response which... was really unfair because you were wrapped so tightly around his finger that it would take professional means to get you loose. You stopped reaching for your phone and instead moved to turn down the heat on the stove. Spinning around to stand face to face with him you felt like this was your chance. With the calming light of the candles you had forced into his apartment and full of all those love hormones which flooded your brain whenever you were around him, it was almost painful for you not to kiss him right now.
“Mik- I really, really like you,” you told him, staring straight into his chest. He pulled your chin up to make eye contact. Looking at you for a minute trying to read your expression. And, finally, instead of responding he just leaned in to kiss you, trying to tell you everything he needed you to know. You melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifted you onto his kitchen island. As he moved to plant open-mouthed kisses against your neck, you wondered how you’d lived your whole life without this.
One night, a few months into your relationship, they had a game and would be getting back into Denver in the middle of the night. Before going to bed you texted him goodnight and to have a safe flight. It’s a few hours later when you jolt awake, hearing your front door opening. You’re all wrapped up in your blankets, heart racing, as you hear footsteps and something being knocked over in your living room. While the average person might go into some fight-or-flight response your brain immediately goes to “okay this is it I’m going to die,” as you bring your fluffy blanket up to your chin. That’s when your bedroom door opens and none other than Mikko “Hot Wheels” Rantanen walks in and flops on top of you in your bed.
“You scared me so badly,” you say with a gasp and with very little remorse in his voice he mumbles a weak sorry into your neck and moves to go to sleep. While you want to be mad at him and maybe kick him out and maybe throw a high heel at him, you don’t. Because he’s here. And he’s warm. And you’re being lulled to sleep as if you have a weighted blanket draped on top of you. And you love him.
It’s just when that thought encases every brain cell you have that said weighted blanket starts whining. With a sigh, you bring your hand up to card through his hair. You know him well enough to know that that’s what he was wanting, like the golden retriever he is. He nuzzles his head further into your neck and you realize that being utterly head over heels in love with him isn’t bad… or scary… it’s good, and it makes you feel like everything is going to be okay… forever.
You were well aware that the first summer after you started dating would be difficult. It was hard enough to be without him during road trips. And you’d gotten used to tangling your legs with his as you were falling asleep. Or hearing him groan shortly after your alarm goes off, feeling him roll on top of you to try to keep you in bed for “just five more minutes.” But here you were, a little over a week before he was supposed to leave. He wasn’t packed. He hadn’t even pulled his larger suitcases out of his closet.
Mikko was sitting on the sofa while you were criss-cross-applesauce on the floor. Something was playing on Netflix but you weren’t paying it any attention. He had a leg not so delicately draped over your shoulder that he used to kick your head which thoroughly shook you from any I-Love-Mikko related daydreams you may or may not have been having. You spun around to face him as your jaw dropped, just to see that he was laughing.
“I’ve been saying your name for five minutes,” he said. You felt like you would have noticed that but you weren’t confident enough to argue so you just continued to stare at him waiting for him to tell you the dumb joke or ask you the weird question that you knew was coming.
“Come to Finland with me,” was all he said. Not a question, a plea, or a favor. A statement. He wanted you to fly almost five thousand miles with him to go to his home country. As much as you wanted to go, you couldn’t just up and leave for the summer. You had responsibilities. And a life. And you didn’t speak Finnish.
“Mikko-” you started, but he cut you off. He knew what you were going to say so he cut you off with a “plllleeeeeeeaaaaaaaassssssssseeeee.” And he knew he got you when you tilted your head back and sighed. With a wide smile, he pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him and leaned in to kiss you. Just before your lips touched you shoved your hand over his face. “Wait, I can’t just go right now, but we can try to plan it out so I can go see you for a few weeks if that’s okay with you.”
“If that’s okay with me,” he mimed in a feminine voice trying to mock your expressions, even going so far as doing a fake hair flip, “of course it’s okay with me.” You leaned in to kiss him for a few seconds until he pulled back beaming, “Babe! You’re coming to Finland!” A giddy smile came across your face and you couldn’t help but cheer, “I’m going to Finland!”
The time before you were able to make the trip was excruciating but finally, the day arrived and you were stepping off the airplane. You were in a country that you’d never been to before but loved already. It felt like there was a magnet in your belly pulling you to baggage claim where you knew he’d be. It had been a long flight and when you finally landed and switched your phone off of airplane mode, it had been flooded with his texts. Tracking your flight, complaining about how long it was taking, and finally, a message that he was here waiting for you.
You were watching your feet as you stepped off the escalator but when you lifted your head it was hard to miss all six feet and four inches of Mikko. He smiled when he locked eyes with you and that’s when you noticed that he was holding up a homemade sign reading “Welcome to Finland (Y/N)!” in his scratchy handwriting. There were some drawings around the words and you were able to make out a Finnish flag and what looked like two stick figures holding hands. At this point, you couldn’t contain yourself anymore and quite literally ran into his arms. He didn’t miss a beat and wrapped his arms around you, lifting you up as you hiked your legs around his waist.
“I missed you… so much,” he whispered and you noticed that his accent had already gotten a bit thicker and his frame a bit sturdier as he was able to stop pushing himself to the limit like he did during the season.
As he set you back on your feet, you beamed up at him and said, “I’m so happy to see you.” His response was a blush, a shrug, and some mumblings about how you see his face every day. “Yeah, but seeing you through the phone is different,” you exclaimed cheerily as you threaded your fingers through his and pulled him and your bag towards the exit.
In the car on the way to his place, he kept his hand firmly in yours. But as soon as you arrived you pulled yourself free and sprung out of the car to meet his dog. You were quick to get on the ground with him and the dog was quick to flop on you and start licking your face. A minute later you heard Mikko laughing and peeled your eyes open to see him standing over you, phone in hand. He reached down to pull you up and started dragging you over to the swing on his porch.
You asked, “what about my bags?” And Mikko just scoffed, “we can get them later, I haven’t seen you in so long. We aren’t going to unpack all of your stuff right now.” He was right and you knew it. The chances that all your stuff would end up unpacked were probably very low and you were likely going to just live out of your suitcase while you were here.
Mikko sat on the swing and pulled you so your legs were draped across his and you were tucked into his side. You were utterly content to sit like that with the rocking of the swing, the faint breeze, and Mikko’s lips kissing the side of your head every so often.
Being without him was so hard. You honestly weren’t sure how you had survived being “just friends” for as long as you had. Now that you had Mikko, you could hardly pull yourself away from him for five minutes without feeling an ache in your chest. If his clinginess towards you since you landed was any indication, he clearly felt the same way.
It was then that your conversation with Gabe flooded your mind once again. You loved Mikko. Almost definitely since before you started dating. Probably since the moment you met. But once again it was looking like you’d have to make the move and be the first to say those three words. As you took a deep breath, trying to hype yourself up, Mikko spoke.
“(Y/N)... I really, really love you.”
You weren’t making eye contact, if anything he was pushing your face further into his chest so you couldn’t pull away. But you moved his arm down and pried your head up. You brought your hand up to stroke your thumb across his cheek as you leaned in to kiss him. It looks like you wouldn’t be making the first move again after all.
