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comphy-and-cozy · 4 months

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Bad for Business II - Mikko Rantanen

Pairing: Mikko Rantanen x massage therapist!Reader (f) - part of Bad for Business universe

Summary: Mikko learns to accept that his teammates are your clients, too.

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY); unprotected sex, risqué/voyeuristic/public-adjacent sex, a little bit of everything: size kink, praise, dirty talk. Jealous/slightly toxic Mikko, secret relationship, morally gray professional decisions. Once again I am here telling you to not fuck your clients (or have sex in your workplace). Also do NOT have sex in a sauna!!!!

Mikko is buzzing with excitement as he pulls into the parking lot. Putting the car in park, he takes a swig of water from his Avalanche-branded bottle and sets his phone to Do Not Disturb. With a quick glance at the clock, he notes that it’s 3:55pm. It’s a Wednesday, and after a string of travel, and a few grueling practices—including one earlier today—he finally has the day off tomorrow. He’s looking forward to a chill night tonight and a relaxing morning sleeping in. If he’s lucky, he’ll have a pretty massage therapist in his bed; at least, that’s what he hopes to lock in after his 4:15pm massage.

On his way into the spa, he casts a glance at the silver Audi in the space beside him. The parking lot is far from full, so it’s hard not to notice the vehicle that he knows isn’t yours. He thinks he recognizes it, but can’t place who it belongs to until he sees the Florida plates as he passes by.

In the spirit of being good-natured, Mikko is prepared to greet him, clapping a hand on his back, making a little small talk, maybe asking what his day-off plans are. Everything a good friend would do. Except that when he arrives to the suite, he sees Ross leaned against the countertop, talking quietly to you.

In the two months you’d secretly been seeing each other, Mikko had quickly had to come to terms with the fact that you rubbed your hands all over his teammates’ bodies for a living. Did he like it? Fuck no, but he had accepted it—mostly. But this, seeing it in person, happening live in front of him, makes him rethink all of his pledges to remain polite.

By all rights, it’s not an unusual interaction in your place of work; Mikko has made plenty of post-massage small talk with you. But, then again, he was trying to fuck you. And by the looks of it, Ross is too, pressing a gentle hand against the back of your arm and speaking in a tone that’s at least an octave lower than his usual speaking voice.

Ross flashes his handsome smile at you, his fuck-me eyes far too obvious, and Mikko’s fist clenches involuntarily. Blood boils low in his chest when he sees you return a smile, your hand pressing gently against his bicep, and he has to take a breath and tear his eyes away to prevent himself from mauling his new teammate in the entryway of the high-end spa.

“Same time next week?”

“Already got you booked,” you reply with a smile. “See you then.”

“Can’t come soon enough,” Ross says, his saccharine smile dripping with charm. Mikko doesn’t miss the quick wink in your direction before he’s forcing himself to offer a nod at his teammate as he makes to leave. Fuck the small talk.

“Mikko, hi,” he hears your voice say, and he glances up to find you looking at him, seemingly unbothered by Ross’ antics. “I just need a few minutes to get the room ready for you.”

“M’gonna go in the sauna,” he grits, swallowing the rage that’s simmering just beneath the surface. “Unwind a little bit. Take your time.”

The humidity and the steam is an instant comfort to him, his muscles relaxing in the damp air. With a groan, he scrubs his face with his hands before letting his head rest on his palms, elbows digging into his thighs. The image of your hand on Ross’ arm, the nauseatingly syrupy smile on his face, the way he was practically fucking you with his eyes—all of it flashes through his mind, each thought more infuriating than the last.

You’re supposed to be his girl. Unofficially, at least. Though, if Mikko thinks about it enough, your budding relationship is still a secret, so everyone else thinks you’re single. Doesn’t change his sudden desire to slam Colton into the boards a little extra hard at practice, though.

A soft knock on the door has him looking up. Your head pokes in, and you can’t help the way your eyes are immediately drawn to the white towel drawn taut between his thighs. You know what lies between those thighs now, have felt it on multiple glorious, life-altering occasions, so there’s an involuntary reaction in your gut. It makes you swallow thickly, quickly darting your gaze away to the floor in an attempt to maintain at least some level of professionalism. “You ready?”

Mikko looks up at you, and you see the scowl on his face before it disappears in a split second. He glances behind you, then rises to his full—read: huge—form and takes the few steps to close the gap between you. His hand reaches for yours, thumb affectionately rubbing over the back of your hand.

“I’m not—I’m not misreading this, am I? We have something going, right?”

Oh, we’re doing this. A small panic settles into your chest, paranoid at one of your colleagues walking by and hearing. You toe your shoes off, tearing your hand away from his to remove your socks and step fully into the sauna, closing the door behind you. It’s unhygienic, and frowned upon, but you can tell that something’s bothering him, so you do it anyway.

“Mikko, we shouldn’t talk about this here.”

“We do though, don’t we?”

There’s something about the look in his eyes that makes you give up the attempt to move the conversation elsewhere. Already, there’s a fine sheen of perspiration spreading across your skin, probably damp to the touch. “Yeah, Mikko. I like you. I thought that much was obvious.”

He smiles then, an expression of—relief, maybe?—settling across his features. Before you have a chance to ask him what’s up, he’s closing the gap between you and seizing your lips in a red-hot kiss. It’s enough to send the air whooshing out of your lungs, hands moving to his arms that have wrapped around you to hold yourself steady.

“You think Ross could kiss you like that?”

All at once, everything clicks into place, despite feeling like your brain has suddenly melted into a warm, pleasant liquid, sloshing about in your head (this is a normal occurrence after he kisses you, you’ve learned). He’s jealous.

“Mikko, he’s a client,” you say, doing your best to hide your amusement. “I’m not sure if you know this, but it’s my job to touch people.”

“It’s not you I’m concerned about.”

This time, you don’t hide your reaction, rolling your eyes at his dramatics. “He’s being friendly.”

“Trust me, he wants to be much more than friends,” Mikko’s voice is low. You notice the way his eyes trail down to your chest, down at the skin peeking through the two unbuttoned buttons of your polo. “He was basically undressing you with his eyes.”

“Like you are right now?” you quip back.

There’s a brief flash in his eyes, like he’s temporarily been pulled out of his jealous rage. His shoulders slump. “M’sorry. Jus’ hate seeing other guys look at you ‘cause they don’t know you’re mine.”

It’s sweet, actually, the sentiment. You’ve been contemplating the dilemma of your relationship and the impact it could have on your career—dating a key member of one of your client groups certainly doesn’t seem like the best idea for maintaining integrity in your profession.

“Mikko, you know we can’t be public about this. Not yet. I like you, but I’m not going to sacrifice my career for you.”

It should be disappointing, but all it does is turn Mikko into titanium steel beneath his towel, the firm independence of a woman who worked hard for what she has. It’s hot, hotter than if you were desperate enough to sacrifice all of it just to get fucked.

“I would—I would never ask that,” he says instead. “Just don’t get mad at me if I accidentally slash him with my stick.”

Your eyes roll again. “Okay, Mr. Tough Guy. Let’s get you onto that massage table, yeah?”

You’re turned to leave, stepping toward the door when you feel warm hands wrap around your elbow. He whips you around to face him, cheeks flushed in the heat.

“I may not be able to stop your hands from touching other people, but I sure as hell am gonna be the only guy touching you.”

Mikko’s lips reclaim yours, tugging your hips toward him as he walks backward. When he hits the wooden bench, he transitions you seamlessly to straddling his lap, your scrubs instantly growing moist when they touch the dampness. Any protest you might have building in you dies on your lips when his large hands grip the globes of your ass, pushing and pulling so your core runs over the bulge that’s mere inches away from exposure.

“Better get these off before I rip a hole in ‘em,” he warns, tugging impatiently at the waistband. “Need you, baby.”

Once you’ve slid off his lap, he’s pawing at your waist to get you naked. The hot, humid air kisses your skin, mingling with the dampness between your thighs. Mikko mumbles something in Finnish, all but ripping off the Egyptian cotton towel wrapped around his waist. His cock is hard, drooling at the tip, standing proudly now that its cover has been removed. “Gotta have you.”

Your mouth opens to protest, to tell him anywhere but here, where there’s no lock on the door and anyone—client or colleague—could walk in at any moment. But then two thick fingers are teasing between your legs, his other hand gently coaxing you forward again, and instead of an objection, you let out a soft sigh.

“C’mere, kultaseni,” he coos. Sweetheart. “Let me feel that pretty little pussy.”

Mikko’s never been like this, so talkative, but you really, really like the way it sounds rumbling out of his broad chest, the depth of his voice and the thickness of his accent somehow making him feel even larger. You like it enough to crawl back into his lap obediently, eager to do anything to hear more of it.

He smiles easily, a smug chuckle sounding from between his lips; the sound is so delicious that you find yourself leaning forward to taste it. His tongue is quick to find yours, allowing you to explore the seam of his lips where his smile blooms, enjoying the way you feel seated in his lap again.

Of course, he teases you, his fingers brushing gently against your folds the only warning before a digit is dipping into your heat. He curses, leaning forward to nip at your collarbone as he pushes through the tightness of your walls, gently working you open to—hopefully soon—accommodate something much larger.

One finger becomes two becomes three, and he’s got a mark blossoming at the junction of your neck and shoulder, dark pink and sure to be a mauvey-purple come tomorrow. Your chest is heaving now, panting in the moistness of the air as he works you to a frenzy.

“You ready to take it now, baby?”

Your nod is desperate, as is the way you sit up to make space for him when he lines himself up with your entrance. He eases the tip in, shallow at first, dipping in and out in slow and steady movements. Gradually, he slips deeper, working his sizable length into your tightness until you’re wrapped snugly around him.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “S’big, Mikko.”

“Yeah?” his quiet reply lilts eagerly, almost hopeful. “You like that?”

Your reply is more of a slurred moan, walls fluttering dreamily around his cock that throbs in time with the beat of your heart. He smirks against your chest, pleased at your inability to speak coherently already—and he’s barely even moved.

Under the coaxing of his strong hands on your waist, it isn’t long before you’re bouncing in his lap, tongue tucked between your teeth as you do your best to temper your moans. You’re thankful that the thick walls of the sauna keep noise inside, but toeing that line feels like playing with fire.

When Mikko tugs your top off, bra falling unceremoniously to the floor, your nakedness feels stark. Something about being nude in a place you shouldn’t be invokes a sense of wild freedom in you, drawing energy and adrenaline to your hips as they keep their frantic rhythm.

“Colton fucking wishes he could get this treatment,” he growls, eyes glued to your tits as you ride him to high heaven.

“Can y’not talk about another dude while you’re balls deep inside me?”

“Why? Just want to remind you that he can’t make you feel this way,” Mikko smirks, large palm massaging one of your breasts leisurely. “Have you mumblin’ nonsense on it. Cryin’ out my name, not his.”

With a flex of his hips, he’s pushing deeper into you and you let out an involuntary cry. No, you think, you’re pretty sure there’s no one else out there that can rest fully in your guts and still have you crying out his name.

“Who else you think can fill you up like this?” he questions, thrusting again for emphasis. It’s enough to have your eyes rolling, fucked completely stupid on his dick.

“Nobody,” you gasp, and you mean it. “Jus’—jus’ you. Only you.”

He hums, smug when his thumb moves to press your clit, the pressure enough to make you shiver. You feel the way your muscles flex around him, the brush of his tip against your g-spot with every bounce in his lap.

Your skin is on fire, less from the heat of the sauna now and more from the flame that he builds inside of you, your body hot to the touch as your sweaty skin slides against his. It’s impossibly warm, each gentle circle of the pad of his finger against your clit stoking the coals and sending another wave of heat coursing through you.

“Need you t’come,” he pants. “Please, baby.”

Thighs burning, you let your hips find their rhythm, drawing closer to that ethereal climax. You can barely even remember your own name, let alone register that you’re inside a sauna, inside your place of work, riding one of your clients like your life depends on it—which is why you let out a loud cry of Mikko’s name when the wave washes over you. Your mouth presses into the crook of his neck too late, panting hot against his skin while he weakly resumes the thrust of his hips, pushing himself over the edge and spilling into your sated, satisfied cunt.

Mikko’s thumb rubs gentle, soothing circles against your hip while the two of you catch your breath. A groan escapes your lips when you realize that you’ve yet again broken your own promise to yourself and defiled yet another surface at your place of employment.

“You gonna charge me a cancellation fee if I say let’s skip the massage and I’ll take you to dinner instead?” his voice is low, murmured softly against your shoulder before he presses a kiss to the skin.

Ten minutes later, you’re walking through the lobby, coat over your shoulders and keys jingling in your hand. Hannah, the receptionist, watches with her jaw dropped as Mikko’s fingers thread with yours, holding the door for you and offering a polite nod in her direction on the way out.

#mikko rantanen fic #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #mikko rantanen x reader #hockey romance #mikko rantanen smut

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typical-simplelove · 9 months

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Summer Baby (M. Rantanen)

Summary: Throughout one summer, you're reminded why you fell in love with Mikko all those years ago.

Author's Note: This is my submission for the 2023 Summer Fic Exchange, put on by @wyattjohnston. This is written for the ever-lovely @buttercupjosh. I truly hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: implied!female reader; LOTS of pining; kind of stupid idiots in love; mentions of alcohol; a few curse words

Word Count: 11.7k

When an internship brought you to Denver, Colorado in the summer of 2016, you never thought you’d fall in love. It was supposed to be ten weeks of learning more about the industry you’re working to get your undergraduate degree in. It was supposed to be ten weeks of exploring Denver during the weeknights and exploring the state's beautiful landscapes on the weekend. You weren’t expecting to fall in love, but then you bumped into him on that one trail on your second weekend in the city and everything changed.

He wasn’t a native; his accent made that clear. You couldn’t figure out exactly where he was from, but it seemed to be European. It was his second summer in the city, and he chose to stay in the US instead of returning home. Something about training, he said. Turns out that “training” was preparing for the next hockey season.

Mikko Rantanen, a player for the Colorado Avalanche, stole your heart in ten short weeks, and you never managed to recreate that same love ever again.

In those ten weeks, you got to know him, and he seemed to insert himself into your life, into the crevices that no one else seemed to seep into. He managed to pull out of you emotions, reactions, secrets, and more that no one else in the world seemed to see. He opened up your walls and gates and managed to make himself a permanent mark in your heart, life, mind, and soul.

There was no doubt that you were going to fall in love with him, and halfway through the summer, you knew you did. Your heart burst whenever you had dinner with him, hiked one of the local trails, took a trip to some small town a few hours away on the weekends, talked to him, and watched him train on the ice. Every hug, call, smile, word, and touch had you falling in love with Mikko, piece by piece.

You couldn’t tell if he fell in love with you, but it didn’t matter. You knew that once the internship was over, you’d be heading back to your hometown for a few weeks before moving back to your off-campus apartment. It was never going to work out with Mikko in the long run, so you opted to fall in love with this beautiful, funny, caring, talented, and handsome man who seemed to get you and understand you in a way that no one else on this planet seemed to.

You fell in love, and that final goodbye at the airport was the worst. He kissed your cheek and held you as tightly as he possibly could. He held your hand tightly all the way through the line to check in, and he held on tightly as you walked to the security line. He wrapped an arm tightly around your waist as you waited to get to that first checkpoint where only ticketed passengers could enter. He kissed your forehead and held you tightly when you were second in line. When it was you next in line, he whispered, “thank you for giving me one of the best summers of my life.”

That’s when you realized he fell in love with you just as much as you fell in love with him. Your heart broke right there as he let go of you for the last time and exited the line so that you could go through security. The realization that he loved you was lodged deep in your throat as you mindlessly went through security, towards your gate, and onto the plane. You thought of all the things you could have been doing over the past ten weeks if just one of you was strong and brave enough to tell the other your feelings. But then, you thought about it, and you knew that ten weeks (less, really) wouldn’t have ever been enough with Mikko. As much as you wanted to hold him, taste him, feel him, and do so much more than friendship with him, you knew that once you had a taste of Mikko, you’d only want more. You wanted everything with Mikko, so never getting to experience more than friendship with him was a gift because if you had to say goodbye after knowing him more intimately than possible, then you wouldn’t be able to find the courage to keep going.

Mikko was your greatest love story, and that wasn’t ever going to change, even when you both eventually lost contact due to his hectic travel schedule and your busy schedule with school and work. You didn’t ever forget him. When things got tough, you thought about that one summer with Mikko, all the sunsets and pool days and hikes and shared water bottles. There wasn’t a day when you didn’t think about him. You wanted to search for him online (you unfollowed him a few months after the conversations stopped), but you knew your heart couldn’t take it. It would have been so easy to Google his name, but it took so long for you to come to terms with the ache in your heart; you couldn’t do that to yourself again.

Your heart would always ache for Mikko, that wasn’t going to change.

When you returned to Denver seven years later for relocation for work, the ache in your heart grew. It’s as if your heart and soul knew you were returning to the place where you met Mikko. You weren’t sure if you wanted to see him again. What would it even be like to see Mikko again after seven years? Would your heart still burn for him? Would he still light up the room and the world—your world? Would he still manage to seamlessly seep into your crevices and walls and gates and make you feel safe?

Did you still love Mikko with your entire heart?

A few weeks after you moved to Denver and settled into your new apartment, you were off to a friend’s wedding—the first wedding to mark the start of the summer wedding season. Late June weddings were always your favorite (maybe because at that point they were still fun).

You weren’t sure what to expect as you didn’t know anyone. This was one of the friends you made during that internship all those years ago who you managed to stay in touch with. She was born and raised in Colorado and still lived there, and she was really one of the only people outside of work that you knew (besides Mikko, but did he count?)

As you took a seat at the reception in the middle back of the venue, you took in the beautiful scenery. The heat was starting to get you, so you began to fan yourself with your program. You were looking down at your phone, reading a book, when something deep in your stomach urged you to look up at the group of men walking up the aisle to find a seat together. At first, you were confused because you didn’t recognize them. You almost looked down, but then a familiar mop of hair and shoulders sauntered up the aisle and slipped into the last empty seat in that row. It looked like him, but it had been so long that you couldn’t be sure if it even was him.

You keep glancing at him, your eyes darting between him and the arch at the head of the aisle. He needed to turn his head to the side, but he kept leaning forward to talk to someone in front of him. You tried to see if you could hear him (you’d recognize his accent and voice anywhere), but it was too loud.

Thankfully, your stressing over him came to an end when the wedding song began to play and the bridal party began to make their walk down the aisle. Your eyes were trained on the bridesmaids and flower girls when you felt a familiar pair of eyes on the side of your head. The warmth that rose on your face at the feel of his eyes looking at you warmed every blood vessel and nerve in your body. You never knew that you were so cold until his eyes landed on you at exactly that moment. You wanted to look over at him because you knew it was him, but you didn’t know what that would do to your sanity, so your eyes remained trained on the bridal party.

When the warmth slowly faded from your body, you knew that he looked away and retrained his focus on the wedding party. That’s when you finally looked at him. Of course, it was him. If the warmth that spread through your body was any indication, it was him. Of course, he managed to still elicit this reaction out of you.

Mikko Rantanen always had a special effect on you that you couldn’t understand.

You kept wanting to look at him throughout the rest of the ceremony, but you kept your eyes firmly trained at the front of the venue where the ceremony was taking place. From the corner of your eyes, you could see him looking back at you throughout the program. You so desperately wanted to look at him and stare deep into his eyes; however, you knew that the minute you did, you’d become still and your body will light on fire. You wouldn’t be able to function, so you kept your eyes strictly fastened on the bride and groom or down on your lap at the program.

He was right there, after seven years, and you were without a doubt still hopelessly in love with him. You thought that after all these years his effect on you would have diminished, but it hadn’t.

As the wedding ceremony ended, you remembered cheering and clapping loudly, but it was all a haze. Mikko was sitting a few rows up, and it took everything in your willpower not to jump over all these people and launch into your arms (that and the fact it would be very embarrassing).

Slowly, you made your way toward where the cocktail party was taking place. You did your best to blend into the crowd and be as inconspicuous as possible. You wanted to see your friend and her new husband, so you joined in the line to greet them. You prayed to whatever deity existed in the world that Mikko wouldn’t see you and wouldn’t walk up to you. You weren’t sure if you could handle talking to him or seeing his stupidly, beautiful face.

Thankfully, after glancing behind you briefly, he and his friends were in line and talking amongst themselves. He was nursing a drink and his back was to you. If things went well, then hopefully you’d be able to make it through the night without talking to him or seeing him. As much as you wanted to return to the center of gravity in the world (him), you worked so hard to heal your heart and soul after having to leave him.

By the time you reached the bride and groom, you were mostly out of your head in stress, anxiety, and overthinking. You hugged her tightly and congratulated her before heading over to the bar and getting a drink. With a drink in hand, you entered the reception area and found your table. You took longer than normal to find your place card because you wanted to see where Mikko was sitting. Thankfully, he wasn’t at your table, and he was at table 11 while you were at 15. Hopefully, that means he’s quite a ways away from you.

You took a seat and introduced yourself to everyone else sitting at your table. As the guests lingered inside, you managed to strike up a conversation with a few of the bride and groom’s coworkers. If this kept up, then you’d be able to make it through the night.

It was forty or so minutes into the reception when you felt that same warmth. This time, it spread from your back to your front. It took you a few moments to collect yourself. You wanted to turn around, but from the sounds of it, the people behind you were chatting away and hadn’t sat down. If he was standing right there, then you couldn’t turn around to look at him. You weren’t ready for that.

He was laughing and talking with someone, and just hearing his velvety voice was enough to send your heart into overdrive. Mikko was right there (right behind you!), and you were just about to die from your heart beating too fast and overheating.

You’re saved, though, by the DJ announcing the entrance of the bride and groom, and you heard the chairs against the marble floor of the people behind you. As much as you wanted to look at him behind you, the way the bride and groom were entering was facing you perfectly, so that meant that if you turned around, you’d see Mikko perfectly and he’d see you perfectly, too.

Someone has to give your willpower a raise because it’s working overtime right now to keep you from turning to look Mikko in the eyes for the first time in seven years because it knows the minute you do, you will be captivated and hypnotized by him, erasing all the work it took for you to continue on with your life.

The rest of the evening carried on, with speeches, dinner, the first/final dances, and the eventual migration of everyone to the dance floor. From the sounds of it, Mikko and his table were on the dance floor, so you felt it was safe to turn and watch. As you suspected, he was right there. You couldn’t help but break out into a wide smile as you watched him dance with the flower girl and twirl her around. He was so vibrant and happy. That’s why you fell in love with him, you remind yourself. He always lit up a room and a life, and right now, he was lighting up the life of that little girl.

You needed a drink, fast, to manage the emotions you felt, so you walked over to the bar, not even thinking that you had to walk right past Mikko. As you were maneuvering through the drunk dancers, you had to slow down, and you heard him call your name. It was loud in the ballroom, but you could hear him perfectly. It sent a wave of ice through your bones before a warm sigh settled. The line at the bar was long, and you could hear him catching up to you, so you took a detour to the washroom.

Just as you opened the door to the washroom, you felt a few fingers on your arm, beckoning you to turn around, but you walked into the washroom, shutting the door as fast as you can. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you were so clearly flushed and overwhelmed. Your body was radiating heat like wildfires; you were afraid the heat would melt the ornate decorations in the washroom.

Wanting to calm yourself down, you washed your hands in cold water. You didn’t know how long you were going to wait in that washroom. How long would he wait for you? Thankfully, though, there were some couches, so you took a seat and scrolled through the phone you remembered to grab.

Five minutes went by, and you wondered if Mikko was still out there. You wanted to go back to enjoy the wedding, but you couldn’t in good faith run into Mikko. Just as you were ready to leave the washroom, a woman walks in.

“Excuse me,” you interrupt. She looks at you, slightly startled. “Would you mind telling me if there are any men waiting outside the bathroom?”

“Are you in trouble?” she ardently asks, worried.

Shaking your head, you reply, “I just don’t want to run into an ex.” That was kind of the truth, right?

“Just my husband, I believe, but I wasn’t looking at hard,” she replies. You thank her before she walks into a stall. Taking a deep breath, you walk out of the washroom, your hand still firmly on the handle just in case Mikko is out there, and you need a quick escape.

He isn’t, just that woman’s husband, so you make your way down the corridor. Just as you’re about to think you’re in the clear, a clear, Finnish-accented voice called your name. On instinct, you turned around and tried to make your way back to the washroom, but his hand lightly grasped your wrist. It wasn’t too tight. You could have easily slipped your hand out and walked away, and your heart gleamed at the thought that Mikko gave you an easy and quick escape if you weren’t comfortable.

“Please,” he whispered, taking a step closer to you. The familiar notes to a slow song echoed through the ballroom. “Dance with me?”

You nodded. “Let me just put my phone down on my table.”

“No,” Mikko says, taking your phone out of your hand and slipping it into his pocket. He guided you toward the dance floor, and you bet your entire life savings on him muttering, “I’m not letting you go again.”

At the dance floor, Mikko guided you into a slow sway with one hand on your waist—his thumb stroking small circles on the thin fabric of your back—and another gripping your hand, holding it close to his heart. He was looking down at you, but you were looking at everything except for him. You felt his eyes on you as you mimicked a middle schooler who was too afraid to stare at their crush during the slow song.

“I didn’t know you were going to be in town,” he whispers, his mouth close to your ear.

“Yeah, I moved here a few weeks ago,” you tell him, softly, angling your head towards his, slowly. You closed your eyes, not ready to look at him yet. Mikko moves his head, slightly, so his cheek is resting against yours. You both dance like that for a few beats before Mikko slips his hand out of yours and wraps it around your waist and pulls you flush against his body. On instinct, your hand joins your other around his neck, and you pull him close to you.

You. Love. Him. So. Much.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispers, his breath tickling you and the vibrations ricocheting off his chest to yours. “That you moved here?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted to hear from me,” you reply, your thumbs playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Mikko moves his head back so quickly that it feels violent. You know he’s looking at you, trying to search your face, but you’ve angled your face away from him, staring off at someone or something else—anything that’s not him. He shifts his head so it's right in front of your line of sight, but you’re quick to look away. That game continues a few times before Mikko sighs and rests his hand beneath your chin, angling his head towards yours. Again, his touch is soft, so you can quickly pull away.

Your fact is angled in a way that he can look you directly in your eyes, but you close them, not ready to look at him.

“Why won’t you look at me?” he asks, his voice strained and hurt.

“I can’t let my heart break again,” you reply, putting all your force into keeping your eyes again.

Mikko’s grip on your waist tightens as he says, “please look at me. Please.”

That second please is what gets you, so you open your eyes. Your eyes are met with his piercing blue ones, and your breathing and heart rate dramatically increase.

“Mikko—”

You’re not sure what you’re trying to say or what you want to say, but you’re just looking at him. He’s blinking fast, and you know that’s his tell that he’s nervous and scared. He takes his hands off your chin and briefly brushes some of your hair to the side before his hand returns to your waist. You do the same, brushing some of his curls further up his forehead, before leaning closer. You wanted to feel his heat and warmth. You never wanted this cocoon he wrapped you in to end.

“You gave me one of the best summers of my life,” he says out of nowhere. “Of course I’d want you to call.” His voice is low, quiet, rough, and dangerous. You know that if you kissed him right now, he’d kiss you back, but can you do it? Can you let yourself fall into him again knowing how long it took you to fall out of him again? Would the cages and locks and chains on your heart open up again, even though it’s Mikko?

His eyes flicker down to your lips before he stares intently into your eyes again before leaning closer. You’re going to let him kiss you, but thankfully, you’re saved when the DJ says the groom wants to make a small speech. You pull back, and your hands go from around his neck to sliding over his shoulders, down his chest, where they rest on the shirt covering his upper chest.

When the groom starts to talk, you take your hands off him and slowly slip from his hold on you. You slowly reach into his pants pocket and pull out your phone. Mikko’s fingers are lingering on your skin as you look up at him one more time before you slip out of his orbit entirely and back to your table. You grab your clutch and wrap before making your way out of the ballroom and towards your car.

You once let yourself fall into Mikko’s orbit and gravity, and it was one of the best experiences of your life, but it hurt when that orbit and gravity floated away.

You loved him still without a doubt, but would your heart let you open back up and slip back into his orbit?

Mikko was already back in your orbit if tonight was any indication, but could you let yourself fall back into his?

It was a few weeks after the wedding, and you were still reeling from seeing Mikko. You tried your best to forget about him and the feel of his arms wrapped around you, but you couldn’t. When you went to bed each night, you fell asleep, dreaming about his warm body from that one dance at the wedding, and you woke up each morning, sad that your bed was cold because his large, warm body wasn’t right next to yours.

Did you make the right decision to leave? Should you have stayed and talked to him? What more was there to say? (So much more, actually).

Ultimately, though, you weren’t ready to delve into all those emotions with Mikko when you weren’t even sure what you were feeling. Mikko was going to kiss you; it was without a doubt, and you were going to let him. Once he kissed you, though, what came next? For you, that kiss should be the start of something with him. It should be a healing of the ache over the past seven years, and it should tie a bow to the story from seven years ago and start the sequel right now. But you weren’t sure what Mikko wanted. Was it just going to be a kiss because he had someone pretty in his arms? Was it going to mean as much to him as it did to you?

All this overthinking made you realize that maybe it was better that you didn’t kiss him and left. Until you could exactly articulate in words, out loud what you wanted from Mikko, you shouldn’t make any contact with him. It was already so hard to even see him, so going in confused and unsure wasn’t going to solve anything.

That seemed mature, right?

Or were you just running away because you were scared?

One night, you were laying on your couch, one of your favorite sitcoms playing in the background, as you were scrolling through Instagram. You swiped to check a message that one of your friends sent you in response to something you posted on your story. The little (1) next to the requests tab surprised you, so you clicked on the tab and threw your phone across the room when you saw who it was.

Of course, Mikko was acting maturely and reached out to you.

After taking several deep breaths, you got up to retrieve your phone and opened Mikko’s message. From the looks of it, he messaged you a few days after the wedding. He wrote:

Hey. It was really great to see you, and I’d love to see you again to catch up. I have a day off on Saturday and planning on walking and hiking at Cherry Creek Trail. Feel free to join me. I’ll meet you at ten? I’ll wait for you for half an hour. See you soon, hopefully!

He wanted to see you, and he wanted to do it at one of your favorite hiking locations, and he sent this to you three weeks ago. You can’t imagine the emotions he must have been going through to both send this message and wait those three days for Saturday to come. Then, the emotions during that half-hour, waiting for you, and then his heart shattering when you didn’t show up.

You had to text him back. What would you say? How do you apologize to a man who has been nothing but amazing and understanding to you?

After typing, deleting, and overanalyzing your message, you finally sent:

Hey. It was great to see you, too, and I’m sorry that I didn’t see this until now. Your message wasn’t on my main screen, so I didn’t see it. If it makes you feel better, I would have been at the Trail. If you’re free, I’d like to have a raincheck. Let me know!

Once you sent it, you turned off your phone and went to bed. You didn’t know if he was going to make you wait a few weeks like you did. You went to bed that night fearful and excited. You were scared he was going to turn you down, but you were so excited about what could happen.

Turns out, he didn’t make you wait a few weeks. When you turned on your phone the next morning, Mikko responded only a few minutes after you sent your message.

Does this Sunday at 10 work?

After staring at the message for a few moments, you replied, confirming the time worked, and got ready to go to work.

Sunday was only three days away, and if he still hiked and walked like he did seven years ago, then you know your heart was going to go into overdrive.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you parked your car outside the Trail at 9:30 and got out to sit on a bench. You wanted to wait in your car, but you wanted to make up for a few weeks ago when you completely missed Mikko. By the time you sat down, you could see Mikko’s figure jogging over to you from the corner of your eye.

“Hey,” he says, taking a seat next to you. He was in sunglasses, a white T-shirt (you were totally acting normally about this), and black shorts that really only covered his ass. He hands you a bottle of water and says, “this is for you.”

You hold up your own bottle. “I have one.”

“Yeah, but I know you don’t use electrolytes in your water as I recommend,” he replies, a smirk on his face. “I’ll even hold it for you.”

“If you insist,” you tease, shocked that you actually have the power to tease him right now. Your entire body was in overdrive because Mikko looked stupidly handsome right now. Would there ever be a time when he didn’t?

Mikko holds the two bottles in one hand and extends the other to you to take. With a deep breath, you put your hand in his and grasp it tightly. You let yourself soak in the feel of his large hand wrapped around your hand. You can’t look into Mikko’s eyes because you know you’ll see an emotion you’re not ready to address.

“Ready to go?” Mikko asks, breathlessly, as if the hike was finished and not in its current state of not even being started.

“Yeah,” you murmur, taking your hand out of Mikko’s. You still feel the ghost of his hand in yours.

The first half-hour of the walk is awkward as both of you can’t find the right words to say. What would you even talk about? Do you address the elephant in the room? Do you pretend you haven’t talked to him in seven years? It used to be so easy talking to him, and now, it’s as if it’s a blind date. You wanted to get back to that point with Mikko, but would you ever be able to?

Thankfully, Mikko breaks the silence first. “It was really nice seeing you at the wedding.”

“Even though I left immediately after we danced?” you ask, putting out a laugh in an attempt at a joke.

“I’d rather you ran away from me than me not seeing you at all,” Mikko says, dead serious, his eyes locked on your walking frame. You look at him, and the intensity of his look on you is enough to make you trip and lose your balance. In true Mikko fashion, he wraps an arm around you in time to help catch you before you fall. Your breathing rate picks up as he keeps his arm wrapped around your waist as you both continue to walk. Mikko must think it’s because you’re dehydrated, so he hands you the water bottle (already opened) he brought for you.

“Thank you,” you murmur, before taking a sip.

“Anyway,” he says, clearly as off-kilter as you are. “Tell me what brings you back to Denver.”

So you told him, and that opened up the floodgates of conversation between you and Mikko that you remembered. You told him all about finishing school, work these past few years, your family, and your life, and he tells you about the hockey season, winning the Stanley Cup, and the recent disappointment in the post-season. You both noticeably leave out any mentions of romantic partners.

In your defense, though, you’re not sure if you’re ready to say that the reason you haven’t been in a true relationship in the past seven years is that you’ve been trying to find someone who made you feel the same way that Mikko made you feel.

When you’ve come up to a peak on the trail, you and Mikko stop and take in the sights. Seeing a big boulder, Mikko pulls you over to sit. He sits first and pats the empty side of the boulder for you to fit. Taking a deep breath, you sit next to him—your entire right side is up against and aligned with Mikko’s left side. The feel of his sweaty arms should repulse you, but he smells amazing. You always knew he smelled amazing, but sweaty, Mikko smells like a Greek god.

Just the feel of Mikko up against you makes you wobbly, and you almost fall off the side of the boulder. Mikko wraps an arm around you and holds you tightly against him so that you don’t fall again. You both sit there, breathing in sync, as you stare out at the sight before you.

“Did you miss me as much as I missed you?” Mikko asks, not looking at you.

“How much did you miss me?” you reply, meekly.

“I missed you so much that I could barely breath,” he confesses. “My entire heart has ached for you over these past seven years, and not a day went by where I didn’t think about you.”

You blink a few times before turning your head to look at him to find him already looking at you. “I definitely missed you as much as you missed me.”

He smiles his smile, and it’s enough to almost make you fall backward, but Mikko’s arm tightens around you, almost knowing the influence he has on you. You lean into his side, content with the feel of your body against his and just his body overall.

“We could have been doing this for years,” you whisper, not sure if you want Mikko to hear you.

“Then let’s make up for it now,” he replies, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. His hand around your waist is stroking soft patterns on your left side as you let yourself sink into Mikko’s hold. He has a way of making you feel safe and comfortable and loved.

If this hike has shown you anything, it’s that Mikko was your future. His gravitational pull was always going to pull you in and keep you close and secure no matter what. You loved him with your entire soul and being, and maybe one day, you’d be ready to tell him.

“Ready to go back down?” Mikko asks, his breath tickling your forehead.

“Yeah,” you say, reluctantly, and get up. When was the next time you were going to be this close to him?

Once Mikko gets up, he peels off his shirt, and your mouth goes agape at the sight of his chest. His chest was magnificent when he was just twenty, but now, it looks like it’s been sculpted by the heavens. How could someone’s chest be that beautiful? You knew he was going to take off his shirt when he got too sweaty, and you thought you had prepared yourself for it, but you never suspected that he would grow into himself so handsomely.

Mikko smirks at you, knowing exactly what he was doing. He needed all the extra points from you if he was going to convince you he was enough to spend the rest of your life with.

“I’m going to start,” he says, turning around. “Catch up when you’ve caught your breath.”

When he turned and revealed his back to you, your knees wobbled. This man was going to be the actual death of you.

Mikko had opted not to return to Finland for the summer to try to work on his training in Denver, so he proudly said that he was all yours for the summer. You weren’t sure if you wanted all this undivided Mikko attention, but then when he texted you on a random Wednesday asking if you wanted to meet him for lunch during your lunch break, you realized it was a good thing, all this attention.

He met you at a restaurant down the street from you and was waiting outside for you. When you walked up to him, he opened his arms and pulled you in for a hug. You breathed in his scent and realized that he hasn’t changed his cologne in all these years. The fact that it hasn’t changed somehow made your throat tighten up. It took everything in you not to cry. He was still the Mikko you loved seven years ago.

“Ready?” he asks, a smile wide on his face as he linked in hand to yours. You nodded and allowed him to lead you inside the restaurant.

Once seated, you and Mikko didn’t say anything as you both peered over the menu, but every now and then, you both would look up at the same and catch each other’s eyes before guiltily looking back at the menu, your faces warm with embarrassment. Finally, though, you decided what you wanted to order, so you closed your menu and decided to observe him as he poured over the menu. He was wearing a white button-down shirt that was tight in all the right places. He had a few of his top buttons undone, giving you a sneak peek at that perfect chest. When he thinks, he always sticks out his tongue, slightly, and he was doing just that. You wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and taste him. How was it possible someone was so pretty?

“Take a picture; it’ll last longer,” he teases, not looking up from his menu.

“Great idea,” you reply, pulling out your phone and taking a perfect picture of him. If he put on a pair of dark glasses, then he could look like a handsome college professor.

Mikko just shakes his head and laughs softly. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Buy me lunch?” you suggest, playfully.

“Always was the plan,” he answers, closing his menu. He opens his mouth to say something, but the waiter comes over to take your order. From the corner of your eye, you watch him deflate a little at not being able to say what he wanted to say. You wonder what he was going to say to you.

After the waiter walks away, Mikko pulls in his chair to get a smidge closer to you. In the process of doing so, he manages to knock his legs with yours, but you don’t jump or move at the touch. Instead, you let his lower legs rest against yours as he sits. You and Mikko always were heavy on the physical touch.

“Tell me about your current project at work,” Mikko says. As you explain to him about your current work project, he can’t help but love the way you get animated about work and talk with your hands. The features on your face are lit up by both your emotions and the lighting in the restaurant. And when you lean forward to talk to him as if you’re telling him a secret, Mikko is pretty sure that you can hear his heartbeat—it’s racing. He leans forward, too, creating a cone of isolation from the rest of the restaurant as he listens to you talk. You always could captivate him more than anyone else in the world could.

It’s no wonder he fell in love with you all those years ago and never fell out of love.

You’re so close to him that he could kiss you. He’s still listening, but he’s also thinking about how much he wants to kiss you. He could just lean forward an inch or two and rest his lips on yours. He could finally settle the question about what you taste like, and he can finally convey to you how he feels.

He never was good at words, especially when it came to English, but with you, it was even harder. He had all these things he wanted to say, both in English and Finnish, but he could never get them out. His mother suggested writing them out and giving you a letter, but where would he start? Would he start with how you were his entire world? Would he continue with how your magnetic force always pulled him in regardless of how far away you were? Would he mention that he’d give up everything to be by your side forever? Will he write about how he wanted to take you home with him to Finland and recreate all his memories there with you because he wanted everything with you?

There were so many things he wanted to say to you, but he never had the courage to do so.

You were still talking, and he desperately wanted to kiss you, and he was going to. He was really, really close to your lips, but then the fucking waiter shows up and ruins the moment again.

You both pull away, and you clear your throat to clear your head from how you were pretty sure Mikko was going to kiss you.

As you both start to eat, it’s difficult to get back into that cone of isolation that you were both in, but you’re still drawn to him like opposite sides of a magnet.

The rest of lunch goes normally as you both catch up more and talk. Still, you're yearning for that cocoon of isolation and intimacy from before. You know you've always had Mikko's undivided attention, but the way it was a few minutes ago made your heart burst. He paid attention only to you, and he wanted to make sure that you knew that.

The only comfort from leaving that cone was the fact that Mikko's leg was still resting against yours. That warmth was enough to keep a smile on your face. That's why I loved him, you remind yourself. He always knew what to do to keep you smiling.

At the end of lunch and a brief argument over who's paying the bill (Mikko won), he's walking you back to your building.

"Hey, when you have a free weekend, do you want to drive out to Aspen?" he suggests. "We can go hiking or just hang around the downtown area. We could rent a small cabin and just hang out."

"That sounds perfect," you reply. "I'll call you one day this week, and we can plan it?"

"Yeah," he replies, a wide smile on his face.

When you got back to your building, Mikko kissed your cheek and whispered goodbye before he stepped away and watched you walk back into the building.

You were going to be the end of him.

After planning and discussing and filing for PTO, you and Mikko were off to Aspen for a four-day weekend late on a Thursday night. You managed to get Friday and Monday off, so you and Mikko were going to spend four days hanging out and relaxing in the Aspen mountains. As you were packing, you couldn’t help but wonder what this weekend was going to do for your emotions and feelings for him. Often rather than not, you spent your free time with him, taking walks around the city, going for hikes, having movie nights, or going out for dinner and/or drinks. None of that was helping. Four days in the mountains with Mikko? Your heart was going to be working in overdrive.

It was roughly one hour into the drive when your GPS alerted you that there was a slow down up ahead, causing delays of up to sixty to ninety minutes. As Mikko’s car came to a standstill and the automatic shut-off came on, you and Mikko glanced at each other and laughed. You thought that leaving on a Thursday night after work would allow you to miss any traffic, but clearly, that wasn’t the case.

“Good thing we have snacks,” you mention, reaching into the back seat to grab the cooler of snacks you packed.

“Hopefully, we make it before the office that’s holding our keys closes,” Mikko muses when you hand him a bottle of water.

The office closed at nine. There was going to be a chance that you and Mikko wouldn’t make it in time. As if sensing your anxiety, Mikko takes your hand in his and says, “don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”

His warm and large hand in yours was all you needed to calm you down. It always was your cure for any bouts of anxiety you’d feel.

For about half an hour, no one in traffic was moving. Everyone was still at a standstill, and as the night sky turned into a golden haze of sunset, there was no doubt in your or Mikko’s minds that you weren’t going to make it in time.

“It looks like everyone’s turning off their cars to conserve gas,” you say, noticing the lights of many cars turning off. “Thankfully, it’s not too hot.”

“Yeah,” Mikko responds, turning off his car right after opening some windows for a breeze. “This wasn’t how I thought this weekend would go.”

“We’ll still find a way to make it fun.”

Mikko looks over at you with a soft smile on his face. Your heart nearly stopped at seeing him looking at you with all the love in his eyes. His stupid, beautiful face was looking at you as if you were the queen of the world. He was looking at you as if he wanted to devour you and longingly love you for the rest of his life. And with the sun setting behind him and all the colors creating a beautiful backdrop, your entire body warmed and clenched at the idea that you got so lucky as to know him and his stupidly, beautiful features. How did you get so lucky not only to meet him but have him as a friend and fall in love with him?

Well, falling in love with Mikko wasn’t luck. Mikko was easy to fall in love with. It took no effort. With one look, it was fated that your heart would always be his. Even if you went to the far ends of the universe and saw and met some of the most beautiful and amazing people in the universe, your heart would always beat and return to Mikko. That was the hold he had on you.

Your heart and soul were always his. That’s what was written in the stars at their first moment of creation.

“Are you okay?” Mikko whispers, not wanting to disrupt you. He could tell you were deep in your thoughts, but you were staring and observing him, so he wanted to know what you were thinking. His head was blocking any of the sunlight from reaching your face. His dark shadow was on your face, causing a cascade of light to halo around your form. You were sitting there, in his car, like a dream.

There were so many times over the past seven years when he’d get in the car and look over and hope and beg the universe that you would be sitting there next to him. He wanted to drive you around and show you off, and he wanted you to be right there next to him for all of his adventures in life, and he wanted to be right there next to you in all your adventures in life.

You were sitting there, looking so stunning and a replica of his dreams, and the sun was shining around you, enshrining you in a halo, looking like someone sent from up above.

You are the love of Mikko’s life, and his heart aches to know you’re right there but also so far out of reach.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say, your voice sounding dry and hoarse. “You just look really fucking beautiful with the way the sun is shining around you.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” he replies. He tries feeling around his (super short, in your opinion) shorts pockets to find his phone, but he can’t, so he reaches across your lap for your phone to take a picture of you. He readjusts his head so that he can illuminate you in that same glow before he snaps a few photos of you. You give him a soft smile for the pictures, and he knows right then and there that every centimeter of his heart is yours. All the blood that courses through his veins and heart, all the nerve endings throughout his body, and all his bodily metabolic processes are yours. His body beats and moves and functions and acts for you. It’s always been for you.

“Please send it to me,” Mikko requests, his throat suddenly dry.

“Of course,” you reply, swiping through the photos before you pick your favorite to send to him.

“All of them,” he growls.

You look at him and give him a funny look. “But some of them I don’t look good in.”

“That’s your opinion, not mine. I want them all. Please.”

You scrunch your eyebrows and forehead in laughter and send them all to him. Once you do, you begin, “Your turn for photos, Mr. Always-Beautiful Man.”

His heart sings for your praise and words of calling him beautiful. That was the highest compliment anyone has ever given him. All of his hockey awards and praises combined do not compare to you complimenting him in any shape or form.

You turn in your seat to get a better angle of Mikko. Not satisfied, you place your phone on the center console before you reach over to place your hands on his face to readjust the angle and shape of his face. You brush your hands over the hair on his forehead before softly stroking his cheekbones and settling back in your seat.

Yes, Mikko’s heart is beating so fast that the force could launch his heart through his sternum into your lap.

As you’re snapping photos, Mikko hopes that you can’t tell how much he loves you. Is it possible to see, in his eyes, that he wants you in every single possible way but he’ll wait until you say the word? With one word, you could build up his world and universes, and with one word, you could make him yours. Then again, he always was at your will, and that truly never will change. He was fully yours seven years ago, and now, he’s completely yours, just heightened.

“I hate how photogenic you are,” you comment, swiping through the photos, taking Mikko out of his thoughts. “It’s not fair.”

“Sorry,” Mikko says, looking at his phone and setting one of the photos of you as his home screen.

“Sure you are,” you reply, turning to face the front of the car and rolling your eyes as you begin to munch on a snack.

He really wasn’t. He wasn’t going to apologize for captivating you with his looks when you do the same every damn time he looks at you.

Five hours later, well after the 9 pm deadline to pick up the keys, and close to midnight, you and Mikko reached the rental cabin in Aspen. You called ahead, trying to see if they would leave your keys under the welcome mat, but they replied, saying it wasn’t safe.

“Should we find a motel?” you suggest, sitting in the car trying to figure out what to do.

“We could always just sleep in the car,” Mikko counters. “I’m not sure if there will be any rooms open.”

“So, we just roll back the seats and sleep?”

“Yeah,” he replies, getting out of the car to find his pajamas in his overnight bag in the trunk. You quickly follow and do the same. “You can change in the car, and I’ll change out here.”

“Okay,” you reply, breathlessly. You were going to be changing into pajamas with Mikko just a few feet away from you. You’ve done that before, but normally, there are walls blocking his view, but this time, he can look right through the windows and watch you. Did you want him to watch you and see parts of your body he’s never seen before? Just the idea of him getting to see more of you sets your body on fire.

When you’ve pulled out your pajamas and sweatshirt, you move to the driver’s seat, knowing he has more legroom because he’s taller. You close the door but don’t start changing. You can see, through the driver’s side mirror, Mikko has pulled his shirt over his head and is folding it up before putting on his pajama shirt. Oh, that back. Yeah, you’re waiting until he’s done changing before you do anything. When he pulls down his shorts and is standing there in only a sweatshirt and boxers, your heart begins palpitating. You knew he had massive thighs and ass that can win a competition but in only boxers? It was no wonder your brain was malfunctioning. This man was beautiful and handsome in every single possible way.

This kind, compassionate, caring, talented man had a body that can win first place in any beauty competition. It wasn’t fair that he was the most amazing person you’ve ever met and ridiculously, stupidly, handsome.

Of course, you fell for him.

When he was done changing, he looked over his shoulder to see if you were done changing, and you were quick to turn your eyes away from the mirror. It was dark, so he probably couldn’t see that you were staring at him as he changed (like a stalker), but still.

As you began to change, Mikko turned his back to you and waited until you opened the car door to signal you were done. It took everything in his willpower not to turn and see you change. What would it do to him to see even more of you? He knew you inside and out, and he knew everything there was to know about you, and he loved it all. To see more parts of you that you’ve never shown him? His entire body would fall in on itself.

He’s twiddling with his thumbs when the horn of the car makes him jump. He turns his head to see what the matter is. When he sees your bare shoulder, he knows it was an accident, but he’s frozen in place. All he’s getting is your bare shoulders and an inch of your upper back, but it’s enough to put his entire body in a haze. He never knew shoulders could be so perfect, but yours were incredibly fucking perfect. He wanted to rest his hands on your shoulders in support, he wanted to kiss your shoulders as he held you against his body during movie nights, and he wanted to brush away hair from your shoulders and back as he helped you put on a necklace.

Mikko quickly looks away, but he knows that during this weekend, he’s going to fall more and more in love with you.

When you get out of the car after changing, you and Mikko are both warm and exhilarated from seeing bits of the other changing that you both get ready to sleep in silence. The only sounds are the crickets outside and you and Mikko lowering the seats. When you both lay down, you finally look over at Mikko to find him already looking at you. The moon was illuminating his skin and figure perfectly; it made you burst with love.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs in reply. My love

You’re quick to get into a comfortable position; however, a chill racks through your body, so you scrunch into a ball to make you warm.

“Cold?” Mikko asks. You can hear the concern in his voice.

“A little,” you lie, not wanting to make him worry.

“Come over here,” he suggests, opening up his arms for you. He takes the sweatshirt he was going to use as a pillow and dangles it as a reward.

Slowly, you maneuver yourself over the center console and onto Mikko’s seat. It’s not big, so you’re entirely wedged up against him. You take the sweatshirt from him and put it on; you let the warmth engulf you. You knew that Mikko was kind and caring, but to provide you with everything you needed at that moment was a new level of kindness and heart to Mikko you never knew possible.

He pulls you flush against him and wraps an arm around you. You wrap your arms comfortably against your chest and let yourself soak in his warmth.

“Are your hands still cold? Your legs?” he asks.

You nod, letting your forehead fall to the space between his collarbones. In one swift motion, Mikko wraps a leg around your legs, letting the warmth from his sweatpants-clothed leg send warm sensations through your body, and takes your arms and moves them beneath his sweatshirt, allowing his sturdy chest to warm you.

“Thank you,” you murmur, feeling the sleep induced by his warmth coming.

“Whatever you need,” he replied, resting an arm tightly around your waist. “I’ll give you whatever you need.”

You’re half asleep when you hear the last sentence, but it warms you nonetheless. Here was this man who was willing to give you the shirt off his back. How were you ever supposed to love another man when Mikko set the standard?

Since the Aspen trip, the rest of the summer went by in a haze. The remaining weeks were spent hanging out in Mikko's backyard, picnics in local parks, movie nights on your couch, and dinners in the local restaurants. Before you knew it, training camp was around the corner, and more of Mikko's time was spent in the gym, getting ready for the upcoming season. While it hurt to spend less time with him, you understood, and this time around, you went and watched him on the ice. You knew Mikko was an excellent hockey player, but you never once watched him in person. It was so enchanting watching him set up plays and glide across the ice. Who knew the love of your life was so incredibly talented?

The weekend before training camp started, Mikko planned on hosting a barbecue to welcome the team and their families back to Denver. He invited you. At first, you were going to say no because you didn't feel like you belonged at the event, but you knew that Mikko would pout and sulk until you said yes. You didn't want him to know the kind of power he held over you.

The day before the barbecue, Mikko called you frantically. He had no idea what he was doing and asked you to come over early to help.

"What makes you think that I know anything about hosting?" you asked, taking a little jubilation at knowing there was something that Mikko wasn't good at (because he seemed good at everything!).

"I don't. I just know you calm me down."

Well, then.

You showed up the next day, a bag of groceries in hand, ready to help Mikko host. You weren’t quite sure how you were going to help him in any way he asked (you’d do this, even if he wasn’t in a crisis).

Carefully, you used the spare key he gave you and unlocked his house. You didn’t want to scare him, so when you entered and took off your shoes, you announced your presence quietly. He wasn’t in the kitchen, you noticed, so you placed the groceries you purchased in the fridge. Upon further listening, you could hear him singing along to a song in the washroom. He must be cleaning it.

“Hey,” you said, poking your head into the bathroom. He was playing his music, loudly, as he scrubbed the toilet.

“Hey,” he replied, looking at you, a smile wide on his face. “When did you get here?”

“Maybe five minutes ago. I bought you potato salad and hotdog and hamburger buns.”

“You’re the best,” Mikko replies, giving you a sweaty hug. “I’m almost done here, and then we can start preparing the food.”

As he finished cleaning the rest of the washroom, you leaned against the door frame, watching him and talking to him. You tried your hardest to listen to what he was saying, but your eyes couldn’t help but drift to his arms as they flexed as he scrubbed the toilet. You knew he had large and attractive arms, but you weren’t ever aware he had such attractive veins. Finally, you understood what your nursing friends meant when they called veins “delicious.” All you wanted to do was run your fingers along his veins.

When he finished, you followed him to his kitchen where he washed his hands and discussed with you what the plan for preparing was. The event was a potluck event with individual families bringing sides while Mikko supplied the grilled foods.

“We’ll start with the grilling once people start to arrive,” he tells you, looking through the fridge.

“What did you pick up?”

“Hotdogs, hamburgers, turkey hotdogs, some bean hamburger that someone requested, corn, and zucchini,” he lists off.

“So, should we just put out drinks and cutlery and set things up for people to get drinks and snacks?”

Mikko nods his head, his heart warming at the idea that he was hosting a barbecue with you. It was the domesticity of it all that was setting his heart aflame.

By the time you and Mikko had set out snacks and drinks with small paper plates and napkins, the doorbell rang, alerting that the first couple of people had arrived. Mikko opened the door and welcomed guests while you opened up the sliding door towards the backyard to facilitate easy movement from the backyard to the inside of the house.

The next hour passed as more guests arrived. Mikko fired up the grill while you helped in the kitchen, topping off drinks and organizing the dishes people brought. You didn’t get a chance to see Mikko or hang around him, but every now and then, you’d get a look at him, outside grilling, and your heart would pick up seeing how happy and in his element he looked. It also didn’t help that the sun was hitting his skin perfectly.

A few times, Mikko would search through the crowd, looking for you, whether you were inside or in the backyard. He’d catch your eye and smile widely at you. Sometimes, he’d wink at you before giving you his signature grin. Some of the spouses around you picked up what Mikko was doing and made sure to tease you every time he did.

They were convinced that he had feelings for you, but you kept denying it. Sure, maybe seven years ago he did, but you really weren’t sure where he was on the feelings-for-you spectrum right now. He was your best friend, that’s all.

When he called out that the grilled foods were ready, a buffet line started with people starting at the grill, getting their choice of food before going inside for sides and topping off their drinks. Mikko stayed at the grill to help serve while you went inside to facilitate easy movement around the kitchen island and helped top off drinks. By the time the last people had gotten their food and were seated at the tables and chairs outside, you were about to make your way to the grill to start your own plate, but Mikko walked in first, holding two plates. He handed one to you and said,

“I got you your favorites.”

Taking the plate out of his hands, your fingers lightly brushed his as you thanked him. He placed his empty hand on the small of your bag and guided you into the kitchen to fill your plates on the sides.

When you and Mikko got outside, you started to walk toward one end of the table with some of the people you’d been talking to throughout the day, but Mikko had other plans.

“Nope,” he said, a hint of jealousy and possession in his voice. He wrapped an arm around your waist and took you to an area of the table that had two empty seats. He’s never used that tone with you before, and it made the deepest parts of your body and soul come alive with fire.

Throughout the meal, Mikko had his hand on your thigh the entire time. When he first rested his hand there, you nearly choked on your food. Sure, Mikko was touchy with you, but it was usually an arm hanging around the top of whatever chair you were sitting in or an elbow resting on your shoulder. He never put his hand on your thigh before, and he knew exactly what it did to you because as he watched you drink some water to clear your throat after a coughing fit brought on by his touch, he leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath hot and exhilarating against your cheek,

“Are you okay?”

Without looking at him, you knew he had a smug grin on his face.

“Peachy,” you replied, not giving him any look. He chuckled in your ear in response and pulled back to continue eating, but his hand didn’t leave your thigh.

When you were both done eating, Mikko leaned back in his seat. Deeming it wasn’t close enough to you, he scooted his chair closer to you and changed the position of his hands. The hand that was previously resting on your thigh migrated to rest against the back of your chair, parallel to your shoulders. His thumb was tracing soft circles on the soft skin between your neck and the point of your shoulder. His other hand took one of your hands and place it in his laugh. He intertwined his hands with yours as his thumb traced small circles along the pulse point of your wrist.

This time, you weren’t shocked at the touch and leaned into his body.

You and Mikko sat like that for the next half-hour as conversation filled his backyard and everyone got more food and caught up after a summer away from each other.

Noticing that most people were done with their food and had thrown their plates and utensils into the trash, you asked, “Should we bring out the dessert?”

“Sure,” Mikko said, mentally preparing himself to let go of you. As if seeing you both unwillingly moving from your seats, Gabe piped up saying he and a few other people can grab the dessert.

“You two have done so much already,” Gabe comments. “You two relax.”

After giving him directions about where to find everything, you and Mikko relaxed back into each other, a breath you both didn’t know you were holding breathed out.

A few minutes later, Mikko nudges you with his knee, and you look at him to find him already looking at you. He had a soft smile on his face as his eyes roamed across your face. You weren’t sure what he was searching for, but with a small smile, you knew he found what he was looking for.

“Thank you for helping me, today,” he says, his voice quiet amongst the loud atmosphere in the backyard. With those six words, all the other voices faded away, even as cheers went up when the dessert was brought out.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you reply, an earnest look in your eyes. “What else are friends for?”

“I’d say we put on a good event, no?”

“I’d say you’re right.”

After that, neither of you says anything, but you’re both still looking at each other, searching over each other’s features for that secret message that neither of you truly knows what it is. It’s not until Mikko leans closer and his eyes go down to your lips does your heart stop and you get breathless. You and Mikko have been practically sitting on top of each other for the past hour, but it’s not until he leans less than a centimeter closer to you do you get breathless.

The hand that was wrapped in your hand goes to cup your cheek. In a matter of seconds, he leans down and gently places his lips on yours. His thigh is bouncing up and down in nerves, and on instinct, one of your hands goes to cover his gargantuan thighs as your other hand goes to the back of his head to pull him closer to you.

This, this is what you’ve been waiting for.

His lips are soft against yours as he deepens the kiss, both his hands now resting softly against your face. Slowly and breathlessly, Mikko pulls away, his nose resting against yours.

“I hope you know how much I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I hope you know how much I love you,” you echo, still not quite believing that this was happening.

“I fell in love with you seven years ago and never stopped. When I saw you at that wedding, it was like the universe gave me another chance. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you.”

You shake your head before placing a soft peck on the tip of his nose. “I could have told you how I felt, too.”

“I love you,” he whispers, a wide smile lighting up his face.

“I love you, too,” you murmur, closing the space between his lips and yours. When his lips touch yours again, it feels like the universe is perfectly aligned. Everything is perfect because finally, finally, you and Mikko are on the same page.

Kissing him feels like summer, and you will always be catching feelings for him.

When you first landed in Denver at the start of the summer, running into Mikko was the last thing you wanted to do. You didn’t want to think about the feelings you had for him that one summer seven years ago, and you didn’t want to think about how hard it was to live your life in conjunction with those feelings after you returned home.

You always knew that Mikko was the one for you. It was always going to be him.

As you tape up your final box, four years later, you can’t imagine what your life would have been like if you didn’t have that dance with him at the wedding. It’s hard to imagine what your life would turn out to be if you didn’t see that text from him. It’s especially hard to see what your life would be like if he wasn’t the first one to confess.

“Ready to go?” Mikko asks, holding a box, leaning against the door frame of your apartment. “If you’re not ready to move in with me, I—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you interrupt. “I’m just reflecting.”

Mikko smiles. “Then reflect all you want. I’ll be waiting for you. Always.”

And with that, a new chapter in your life began. With Mikko at your side and you at Mikko’s side.

The End

~~~

I hope you enjoyed this! Please let me know what you thought; any form of feedback is greatly appreciated!

#mikko rantanen #claudia writes #mikko rantanen x reader #mikko rantanen fic #mikko rantanen imagine #hockey writing #nhl writing #hockey fic #nhl fic #op: 2023 #the album series

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bitchinbarzal · 9 months

Note

hi lulu! could you do 31. "Just one kiss?" with mikko pleeeease?

xoxo @comphy-and-cozy

Mikko headed home to Finland every year, that didn’t make it any easier.

So here you were sitting on his bed, pouting, while watching him pack. At one point you began pulling the clothes back out the case.

He sighs “y/n you can’t-“ another hoodie pulled out “y/n! stop”

“Why do you insist on leaving me?!” You cried.

“Babe, i have to go home you know this. My family miss me” he explains, and you know that deep down you’re just being a clingy girlfriend.

“I know” You whine “I’m just going to miss you!” You exclaim, holding up his workout gear in your hands now.

He chuckles “How about you help me pack, huh?”

“That’s the opposite of what I want to do”

“For every piece of clothing you pack I’ll give you a kiss” he tries to bargain and you frown “Just one kiss?”

“Fine, two!”

You smile “Okay! Where’s your trousers?!” You take off into the other room and he just stares at the doorway in awe.

That’s his girl.

#mikko rantanen imagine #mikko rantanen x reader #lulu’s going home prompts

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drewsbuzzcut · 2 years

Text

pictures from pinterest

momma

mikko rantanen x f!reader

warnings: none that i can think of

a/n: this is correlated to the same storyline from my other mikko fic. HAPPY MOTHERS DAY TO ALL THE MOMS AND MOTHER FIGURES<3 there also may be a few mistakes but enjoy!

“Give momma kisses. C’mon bub, go ‘mwah’”

“Mwaaah,” you faintly hear mikko talking to your baby girl, kelly. It was also accompanied by a small, messy kiss from your sweet girl.

“One more kiss for mommy, k. It’s Mother’s Day so we have to give her all the love,” it’s hard to not smile but you don’t want them to know you’re awake yet.

Once again, you feel the tiny kiss delivered to your cheek from your daughter who is only 8 months old.

“Rakkaus(love), wake up,” mikko says before kissing your neck softly.

Before he can move his head away from you, you bring your fingers to card through his hair at the nape of his neck.

“Baby, get in bed. Let’s cuddle,” you knew mikko was tired because he had practice this morning and the playoffs were always tiring just in general.

“Can’t. You have to get ready. Kelly and I are taking you out for a nice lunch,” he tells you.

“Kiss first?”

He leans down to press his lips to yours for a chaste kiss, but you want it to last longer so you wrap your arms around his neck and attempt to pull him on top of you.

“Babe, you have to get ready,” his faces proves that he wishes you could keep kissing him, but he knew it’d be extra hard to stop.

“Fine.”

After your hour long shower and treating yourself to some deep skincare before getting dressed and putting on makeup, you finally make it out of the hotel room into the little living space, and what you see just about brings you to tears.

Mikko, dressed nicely, holds Kelly, who is dressed in a cute dress; they’re both holding a bouquet of flowers for you. On the table is a cake that says ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ along with a gift bag.

“Happy Mother’s Day, love. You’re the best mom there is and we’re grateful to have you in our lives,” mikko talks for both himself and your baby girl.

You shed a few tears before launching yourself in his arms to kiss him passionately before moving to grab Kelly and give her hugs and kisses.

“Thank you. I love y’all both,” your voice cracks a bit as you’re still emotional.

“We got you a gift,” mikko slides the gift bag towards you and takes Kelly back into his arms

When you take it in your hands and open it, you see a gold necklace that is nestled with sapphires, Kelly’s birthstone. You gasp as more tears well in your eyes.

“Miks… this is so gorgeous. I- i love it so much, thank you.”

“I knew you’ve been wanting something to represent Kelly, and well I have a necklace so I thought I’d get you one as well.”

You walk to him so you could give him a tight hug. Kelly is in one of his arms, but it doesn’t stop him from hugging you back. His free hand rubs your neck, travels down the expanse of your spine before pressing on the small of your back to press you closer to his body. Your hands glide along the tight muscles in his arms until they reach his neck.

“Mmma,” your small moment was interrupted with your baby muttering the only word she knew, ‘momma’, well with the best way she can say it. You smile against mikko’s lips because you’re just so happy to have your small family.

“Yeah, baby, we love momma,” mikko mutters before grabbing your hand so you can get your Mother’s Day started.

“Happy Mother’s Day, hot momma.”

#mikko rantanen one shot #mikko rantanen fluff #mikko rantanen x reader #mikko rantanen fic #mikko rantanen imagine #mikko rantanen #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine

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ilyasorokinn · 2 years

Note

AVS NATION WOOO can you do 20 and 48 from dialogues with ej or mikko?

FINALLY

going with mikko. also, no idea which trope you want it from so i went with fluff. also, i changed the prompt a little so i hope that's cool :)

TAYLOR'S AVS NIGHT!

20. "maybe i'm just lucky." 48. "stop flirting with me, i'm not gonna fall for it." (from this prompt list)

you and mikko weren't dating but he wanted to. he had the biggest crush on you, one of which you knew about because he made it very known. you were friends with one of the girls so you came to parties as often as you were invited.

one of the parties you were invited to was the cup party.

you were getting yourself another drink when he walked into the kitchen, "didn't think you'd come."

"almost didn't." you shrugged.

"i'm glad you did." he smiled.

"stop flirting with me, i'm not gonna fall for it." you tried to be angry but the smile on your face was a telltale sign that you weren't upset at all.

"i'll stop flirting if you go on a date with me."

"will you?"

"absolutely not." he shook his head.

you smiled, "fine, i'll go on a date with you, and depending on how this date goes, maybe there will be a date 2." he smiled too.

right at that moment, your friend walked in, "only took you 3 months to finally secure that date, rantanen." she joked.

"you finally did it?" her boyfriend popped her head in, "lucky you."

"maybe i am lucky," he smirked.

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prettytoxicrevolver · 11 months

Text

Colorado Avalanche

How to Navigate:

❤ Heart = Fluff ★ Star = Taylor Swift Song Fic ⬥ Diamond = My Favorite Italics = No Work Posted Currently

Cale Makar

Pool Party

Nathan MacKinnon

Erik Johnson

Mikko Rantanen

Gabriel Landeskog

#colorado avalanche fic #colorado avalanche imagine #Colorado Avalanche x reader #Colorado Avalanche masterlist #cale makar x reader #cale makar fic #cale makar imagine #nathan mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon fic #nathan mackinnon imagine #erik johnson imagine #Erik johnson x reader #mikko rantanen imagine #mikko rantanen x reader #Gabriel landeskog x reader #Gabriel landeskog imagine #prettytoxicrevolver fic #prettytoxicrevolver masterlist

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equallyshaw · 1 year

Text

soft launch feat. Cale makar x reader

—

@y/username: canadas not too shabby

678 likes, 54 comments.

Load more more comments.

@mel.landeskog: love this 🙊

@y/username: love u 🫶🏻

@mikkorantanen: wait this is so cute 🧐

@y/usarname: hehe

@bestfriend: breakfast of champs 🤌🏻

@y/username: 🥑🥑🥑🥑

@bigh0rny: pls tell me you learned how to play golf

@y/username: u know i only went for the drinks and golf carts

@syddbad: the only way to golf 🙌🏻

@y/username: you already know !

@gabelandeskog: I already know that this is cheeks

@y/username: 😌😌

@calemakar: stunna

@y/username: u the stunna

@jtcompher: glad my Christmas gift is coming in handy

@y/username: the bass pro hat 😭😭

@bestfriend: now come back I miss u

@y/username: me too :(

@bestfriend1: he stole her away 😭

@nathanmackinnon: not the toast

@y/username: hehe always

@bobyram: ur short

@y/username: not everybody can be a hockey player😾

@bestfriend1: rUdE

•

@calemakar: california ain’t too shabby.

89.9k likes, 2.9k comments.

Load more comments.

@gabelandeskog: there’s no way that you dressed yourself

@bigh0rny: NO CHANCE

@jtcompher: who’s this cale?? Never seen this man I’m my life

@mikkorantanen: 🧐🧐

@mel.landeskog: CHEEKS

@y/username: cHeEkS

@nathanmackinnon: the kid is in love

@gabelandeskog: they grow up so fast 🥹

@bobyram: I wanna go to cali with u cheeks :(

@y/username: come out shortie

@bobyram: rUdE

@y/username: stunning view

@calemakar: ur the stunning view

—

Hope you guys enjoyed! Pls like and reblog if you did :)

#cale makar #cale makar x reader #cale makar blurb #cale makar imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #hockey #gabe landeksog #mikko rantanen #erik johnson #bo byram #jt compher #colorado avalanche #Colorado avs

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matthewkniesys · 2 years

Note

yo wait hear me out wedding date cale as an ig edit?

so I just changed the request a little cause it was so hard to find wedding pictures that weren't the whole group or the married couple :)

yourusername

Liked by @/ calemakar_, 6erikjohnson6, cradnec, and 13,345 others

yourusername - Congrats to the lovely wife and husband... looks like we're next??

Tagged: @/ calemakar_

View Top Comments

calemakar_ - I guess we are next ❤

6erikjohnson6 - I'm half the blame for this since I introduced you to y/n and you proposed at MY wedding so I better be a groomsmen

↳ calemakar_ - we'll see...

yourbestfriendsusername - omg y/n and cale!!! Congrats!!! I'm so happy for you!

↳ yourusername - Thank you so much my maid of honor <33

↳ yourbestfriendsusername - really!? I get to be the maid of honor!! I'm gonna go cry now

yourusername - of course dumbass who else would it be??

devon_toews - buddy finally asked the girl after plotting with me about it for months

↳ yourusername - you plotted for months??

↳ calemakar_ - toewser is out here exposing me

devon_toews - sorry dude... couldn't help it

bowen.byram - you guys are too cute

↳ yourusername - thanks bo

6erikjohnson6 - we look great in the wedding photos except for mikko who's in the back... why are you doing the peace sign? cradnec

↳ cradnec - Firstly congrats Cale and y/n! Secondly ej it's because I can

yourusername - geez, I don't know who Cale puts up with you guys everyday

↳ cale_makar - I dont, I'm barely surviving them

Thanks for reading!! Instagram edit requests are open <3

#cale makar #Cale makar ig edit #nhl hockey #Fake nhl instagram edit #erik johnson #devon toews #bowen byram #Mikko rantanen #cale makar x reader

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swissboyhisch · 1 year

Text

MIKKO RANTANEN REC LIST

FICS

Bad for Business (18+) by @comphy-and-cozy Mikko has a crush on his massage therapist.

AUTHORS INCLUDED ALL DESERVE A FOLLOW:

@comphy-and-cozy

UPDATED: 13/5/23

#swissboyhisch recs #swissboyhisch masterlist #swissboyhisch #fic recs #mikko rantanen rec list #mikko rantanen imagine #mikko rantnanen x reader

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smileysvech · 1 year

Note

What are some of your favorite hockey boy fics? 🥰

this is not an exhaustive list by any means, so you can check my fic rec tags here and here, but these are some of my favorites (most of these include smut so please respect authors’ warnings if you’re not 18+)

andrei svechnikov

fake numbers and date numbers by @matsbarzal

glittery by @comphy-and-cozy

I love you I love you I love you like never before and basically any blurb/headcanon by @thewintersoldierdisaster

the love countdown series by @behoright

meet me at midnight by @senditcolton

the mystery of love by @comphy-and-cozy

playing pretend by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

sundress season (and the sequel) by @comphy-and-cozy

when it gets crisp in the fall (and these follow up fics in the same universe: x x) by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

andrei svechnikov/brady skjei

the after party by @comphy-and-cozy

andrei svechnikov/dylan coghlan

919 temptations by @hoesforthecanes

brady skjei

adore you by @comphy-and-cozy

do I really have to tell you? by @senditcolton

midnight rain by @comphy-and-cozy

mat barzal

more than a vancouver sunset by @zuucc

praising you by @eberles

we've come so far baby by @mendeshoney

mat barzal/tyson jost

summer nights by @hookingminor

jt compher

our love was made for the movies by @jostystyles

slow mornings by @comphy-and-cozy

something to dream about by @comphy-and-cozy

mikko rantanen

bad for business by @comphy-and-cozy

you’re the reason I come home by @senditcolton

tyson jost

baby, you make me crazy series by @hookingminor

how I look on you by @hookingminor

like this series by @matbaerzal

longshot by @flashyfucker

open your eyes by @matbaerzal

matt martin

matt martin x sugar baby!reader blurb by @comphy-and-cozy

we're a bad idea by @senditcolton

#asks #anon #tiff’s fic recs

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comphy-and-cozy · 1 year

Text

Bad for Business - Mikko Rantanen

Pairing: Mikko Rantanen x massage therapist!Reader (f)

Summary: Mikko has a crush on his massage therapist.

Word Count: 4.2K

Author’s Note: I don't know where this came from and I’m not sorry. I didn’t research if this is anywhere near factually accurate (I’m pretty confident it’s not), but it does the trick.

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Language, unprotected sex, risqué sex, voyeurism (kind of?), size kink, morally/ethically gray professional decisions (don’t fuck your clients people), Mikko’s a little bit of a simp.

NHL Masterlist

Hockey is and always will be Mikko’s first true love. The feeling of stepping out onto a fresh sheet of ice, the sound of a puck hitting a stick right on the tape, the euphoria of scoring a goal under bright lights and the eruption of thousands of fans—it’s something he’ll never, ever get tired of.

The other perks—millions of dollars, private jets, personal chefs and five-star cuisine—are all great, but not why he got into the league in the first place. They certainly don’t hurt, though, especially not the myriad of girls at his disposal. His DM’s are chock full of them, some more blatant than others, but either way, he’s definitely a fan of the accessibility his celebrity provides.

And then there’s you. One of the team’s massage therapists, but you’re undoubtedly everyone’s favorite, considering the other two are middle-aged men. You’re not employed directly by the team, so you technically have other clients, but the Avalanche are certainly your highest priority and most important.

Most of the guys certainly prefer when they’re on your schedule, but they don’t complain if it’s one of the other two. Mikko, on the other hand, specifically requests you, a half-assed excuse that your smaller hands work his muscles better. But really, he just likes getting to talk to you afterwards.

It’s safe to say he has a crush. A hopeless crush, one that’s surely unrequited, but it doesn’t stop him from asking you about your day, your weekend, and of course, your cat.

What he doesn’t know, what you’ve never told him, is that he is your favorite client for that exact reason. For the most part, all of your clients are polite, especially the Avalanche players, but Mikko’s the only one who’s made a real effort to talk to you, to get to know you past the usual salutations. Sure, a few of the guys flirt a little, but it’s all surface level, while something about Mikko seems so genuine.

You’re not sure you’d use the word “crush,” but you certainly feel a flutter in your chest when you see his name on your docket for the day, pleased that he’s your last appointment. Maybe, if you’re lucky, he’ll walk you to your car so you can spend a few more minutes bathing yourself in his sweet smile and the deep boom of his voice.

So, maybe it is a crush. Whatever.

It’s a quarter to 4, and Mikko’s knee bounces as he pulls into the parking lot. He likes to arrive early even though he’s already filled out the paperwork, just in case you’re free to spend a few minutes chatting before the session. Today, he’s disappointed when it’s only the receptionist that greets him with a smile, offering him a lemon water and asking if he needs to be walked back to the locker room.

He doesn’t, instead glancing down the hall toward the massage rooms, wondering if you’re in one and who you’re with. Once he’s changed into his robe, he sips his lemon water as he waits for you.

“Hi, Mikko,” you greet him with a smile, and he smiles nervously back. “How are you?”

“Hi,” he breathes, his heartbeat quickening at the sight of you—the exact opposite of what it should be doing. “Good, and you?”

“I’m good,” you say, and he hopes that he’s part of the reason why.

He follows your lead into room 4, appreciating the intimacy that’s created when you quietly close the door behind you.

“The usual, right? Swedish deep tissue massage?”

“Actually, I’ll take the Finnish massage,” he jokes, then immediately wants to kick himself for how stupid it is. You laugh anyway, and he feels warmth emanating in his chest.

“Any problem areas?”

He grimaces. “My shoulders and my quads are pretty tight. Think I might’ve strained something in practice.”

“We’ll take a look at it. You know the drill by now,” you say, gesturing to the table. “Dress to your comfort level, and we’ll start with the back first—so face down on the table. I’ll give you a few minutes to get situated.”

Mikko nods, watching you step out and shut the door quietly, finally breathing once it latches. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath. The robe is soft on his body, discarded and set on the table beside the massage table as he climbs in the warm bed, letting the sheet cover his back. He adjusts so his face is resting on the cushion, enough room for him to breathe.

As promised, you return a few moments later, knocking softly and pausing before gently pushing the door open. Mikko listens to the sound of you preparing the towels and nods when you quietly ask if the temperature of the heated table cushion is okay.

He can feel himself tense even before your hands touch him, when they’re still collecting the oil you’ll soon rub into his back. He almost jumps when your hands come into contact with his shoulders, soft and warm and already working sinful magic on the sore muscles between his shoulder blades.

“Is the pressure okay?” you ask, voice soft.

All you hear in response is a low groan of approval, followed by a muffled, “Perfect.”

For the next while, it’s quiet except for the sound of the aromatherapy steamer humming softly in the corner and the slick sounds of your hands and arms rubbing over his back. Mikko can’t tell what feels better; the way your fingers expertly massage out the tension in his back, or the gentle, smooth glide of your hands on his skin. Either way, he’s in heaven, lost in the haze of your presence.

When you carefully pull his arm out from under the sheet, you gulp almost audibly when you see the size of his bicep. It’s strong and prominent in your hands as you work your way down his forearm. When you reach his hands, he feels the tingle where your fingertips caress his, threading your fingers with his to maneuver his wrist. Mikko closes his eyes and pretends that you’re just holding his hand because you want to, and not because you’re being paid to.

He has to stop himself from huffing in disappointment when you let go, placing his hand back down. Then it’s on to his other arm, and he gets to enjoy your fingers laced together for another few precious moments.

Every time you’re finished with an area, he’s filled with a brief despair before you’re moving onto a different body part, and he’s appeased again once your hands return to his skin. This time, you’re moving to the end of the table, shifting his left leg out from under the sheet. It isn’t until you’re halfway up his leg that you realize there is no additional fabric barrier around his hips—he’s naked.

This time, you can’t help the gasp that leaves your throat. You can feel your cheeks turn hot, embarrassed even though he chose this; you did tell him to dress to his comfort level, after all. It certainly isn’t your first naked client, but it is the first one that’s stopped you dead in your tracks, mind shamelessly wandering to what lies between the apex of his massive thighs.

You keep yourself contained, though you can’t help from glancing at the edge of the privacy sheet that’s bunched near his ass, part of you wishing he’d had a sore glute so you could have an excuse to touch it. The second leg is a little easier, and you lose yourself in the motions and the feeling of his strong muscles beneath your fingertips.

“Mikko,” you whisper, unsure if he’s fallen asleep. He hums to let you know he hasn’t. “I’m going to lift the sheet over you, and I want you to flip over onto your back and scoot down, okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

It’s only once he starts to turn around that he realizes he’s got a problem—one that’s throbbing against his leg. Before he can do anything to adjust himself, you’ve laid the sheet down over him and made a small gasp of surprise as you, too, realize his situation. There’s a tent—a big one, you think as you gulp—in the sheet, and for a moment all you can do is stare. You don’t know if you should acknowledge it or ignore it, teetering on the edge of indecision.

Mikko stammers an apology, mortified, his cheeks pink as he tries to tuck it between his legs. He wishes he could melt into the massage table and never show his face again.

“It’s okay,” you say gently. “It happens more often than you think.”

You meant for it to be comforting, but all it does is make Mikko blind with jealousy, the thought of your hands on his teammates and witnessing their boners. He wonders, have any of them ever made a pass at you? Do you wish any of them had? Is there any part of ou that wishes he would?

He clears his throat in an effort to vanish some of the discomfort that hangs in the room, accepting the weighted cover you place over his eyes, grateful for an excuse to hide his face. If you’re flustered, you don’t show it, though part of him is disappointed you didn’t react—selfishly, he wants you to be impressed, or turned on, or something. Mostly, he’s glad that you didn’t instantly kick him out, never to speak to him again.

You pull out his tree trunk of a leg, tucking the sheet underneath in an effort to keep him protected and contained. Your work on his leg begins, intimidated by the sheer size of his thigh that’s staring at you. The bareness of his hip reminds you of his lack of clothing, and you’re once again struck with the revelation that only a very, very thin sheet lies between you and his most private possession.

You do your best to ignore it, but as your fingers massage his leg, it’s difficult to avoid brushing him in more delicate places. But, hell, maybe you want to.

It’s on the next leg that your knuckles graze against something soft between his legs, and he lets out a guttural groan that has your low belly igniting in a blazing flame. You mutter an apology, even though you don’t entirely mean it.

The first time was an accident. The second, less so. The third time—well, now you’re just playing with fire.

A warning flashes through your mind, a memory seared into your brain of ethics and boundaries, and part of you can’t believe you’re really considering crossing them, here, now, for this man in front of you. His eyes are covered, but you’ve seen him lick his lips enough times to wish his tongue was your own, and you’ve stared at the aromatherapy steam puffing and billowing for long enough in an effort to avoid the dilemma that’s still standing proudly before you.

The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it. Though, once it’s out, you don’t regret it.

Mikko’s eyes shoot open from underneath the covering over his face, hearing the way you purr the words. He doesn’t know if it’s real or if he imagined it, not until he feels your fingers tracing the inside of his thigh in a massage technique he’s pretty certain is not something you learned in school.

“Do you want me to take care of that for you?”

He can’t nod fast enough, the words caught in his throat as he tries to swallow his sharp inhale. His hands fight against the sheet over his torso, quickly ripping off the face covering to find you smiling.

“You don’t—I—you—” he stammers, his cheeks flushing a gorgeous shade of pink.

“I don’t? You don’t want me to?” you pout. His eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees your hands move to the buttons on your polo.

“No—I mean, fuck yes I do—” he gulps, eyes darting down to the shadow of cleavage that you reveal. “I just want to make sure you’re sure.”

It’s sweet, so incredibly sweet, that you can’t help but smile. You walk to the head of the table so you’re looking upside down at him as you gently lay him back down, only this time, instead of covering his body with the sheet, you’re working it down his torso. Your movement is slow, deliberate, holding his eyes as you press forward.

“I’m sure, Mikko.”

His mouth surges forward, blindly mouthing at the material of your uniform as he pulls your body to him. The next thing you know, his hands are tugging the material of your top down to get a better taste of your breasts. It’s clumsy, given your position, but neither of you care; he’s just happy to finally get his hands on you after so many months the other way around.

Mikko maneuvers your body with ease, pausing frequently to grope your body and press his lips against any open skin he can find, ultimately getting you where he wants you: on top of him on the massage table. The new position is intimate, somehow more intimate than you with your hands all over his naked body; this time, you can feel the width of him as your legs straddle his hips, the sheet barely covering his modesty—and certainly not covering the cut muscles of his torso.

His hands run up the sides of your legs, scorching you even through the material of your uniform pants. You’re distracted as you trail your hands up the firm muscle on his stomach, one of the few places on his body you’ve never touched, and certainly never at your own leisure. Mikko flexes his abs, hard and tight as he gives you a cheeky wink, allowing you to admire the fruits of his labor. What’s the point in being a professional athlete if not to have pretty girls ogle your body?

Before long, your desire urges you to move past his muscles—though you’re convinced he’s got nicer tits than you do—and lean down until your face is inches from his. His expression is soft despite the darkness in his eyes and the pulse in his neck that’s heightened with every touch on his body.

Mikko pauses, waiting for your action, itching to know what it feels like to have your lips against his own. His eyes are drawn to the way your tongue darts out to wet your lips, slow and teasing in a way that has him twitching between your thighs.

“I could get in so much trouble,” you murmur. There isn’t an ounce of hesitation in your voice; instead, it’s replaced with desire, a compulsion to do something bad.

“We don’t have to,” he says quickly. He means it, but he’s hoping—praying—that you won’t change your mind.

“Maybe I want to get in trouble,” is your reply. Mikko doesn’t even wait for you to say anything else before he’s lunging forward to kiss you, finally capturing your lips with his. It’s just as magical as he thought it’d be, even better that he’s already naked.

His tongue slides into your mouth, meeting yours for the first time, and you moan when your hips begin to move of their own accord, dragging your core over the flimsy sheet and his throbbing length. It doesn’t take long for the temperature to reach searing levels, his hands fumbling with the hem of your top before you’re helping him to tug it off, tossed haphazardly on the floor.

Mikko’s frozen in place, staring at the way your breasts sit, perfect, in your bra. Part of you wishes you’d put on cuter undergarments today, but then you remember you weren’t exactly planning on this happening. He doesn’t seem to be fazed by the ‘boring’ nude, too transfixed by the way your breasts feel in his large hands. Before you know it, he’s shifting you so he can sit up, pressing his mouth against your chest while his hands work their way to the clasp of your bra, expertly flicking it open. He barely pauses when the fabric falls between your bodies, flinging it blindly out of the way before his mouth is attaching to your nipple, hot and wet in a way that causes you to gasp.

“Mikko,” you sigh, and he decides in the moment that the way his name sounds in your mouth is his new favorite sound. He hums against your chest, switching to grant your other breast attention while his hand is quick to replace his mouth against your now wet nipple.

His hum morphs into a groan when your hand snakes between your bodies to stroke his erection, almost painfully hard now. Your eyes widen when you feel how fucking thick he is, barely able to fit him in your fist, and you let out a mewl as you imagine what it’ll feel like inside you.

“Fuck,” he grits out, mouth trailing up to the sensitive place where your neck meets your shoulder, careful to nip gently to avoid making too big a mark. Your hands are magic, having worked miracles on the majority of his muscles, though this time undoubtedly takes the cake for his favorite session with you.

He can’t wait any longer, his hand sneaking past the elastic waistband of your uniform pants, teasing at the hem of your panties. His fingers dance over your mound, familiarizing himself, before he’s probing at the damp fabric at the apex of your thighs with a curse, deeply aroused at how wet you are. A choked moan leaves your throat, vibrating against his lips that are trailing across your neck.

When his fingers slip into your panties, the mere heat of his hand against your clit is enough to make you moan. The feeling of his finger slipping inside your walls has you throwing your head back, relishing the way he grunts at how snugly you squeeze him.

“So tight, baby,” he murmurs, voice muffled as he laves at your collarbone. A second finger joins his first and immediately they curl together to hit the spot that makes you see stars. He grins when he feels your hand clutching onto his shoulder as he works you, drawing out the sweetest whimpers.

After a brief pause to shove your pants further down your hips to grant him more space, his fingers are back in your greedy cunt, eagerly accepting the long, thick digits. Mikko knows what he’s doing, knows exactly where to put his fingers, knows how much pressure to use, knows the perfect way to circle your clit with his thumb. He wants to drink in the erotic noises that spill from your mouth, heart beating faster at the way his name sounds like in a moan.

“Mikko, I’m—s-so—”

His lips press kisses against your jaw as your eyes squeeze shut, an explosion erupting in your belly. Your hips roll against his hand, dragging out the waves of your high as you feel him hum against your skin. He’s pleased with himself, feeling the way his balls clench at the way his entire hand is soaked with your juices.

“Fuck, gotta have you,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, before he’s wrenching his hands away from your core and flipping you onto your back. Your legs can’t kick off your pants fast enough, his hands smoothly slipping your panties over your thighs. Once all of the offending garments are removed, Mikko takes a moment to admire the sight of you, spread out and naked for him after all this time. He’s sure none of his teammates have had this type of session.

His calloused hands are rough on your skin as they slide up your thighs, spreading them apart slowly to create space for his hips. As he sits up on his knees, the privacy sheet slips from his body, freeing his erection. Your jaw drops as he releases one of your legs in favor of stroking it, and your mouth waters watching it slide in and out of his hand. Unconsciously, your leg falls open as you begin to imagine what it’s going to feel like inside you, part of you wondering if it’s even going to fit.

Mikko smirks at the way your legs spread for him, taking in the lust in your eyes. He can’t believe he’s here, right now, with you, and he wants to pinch himself. But, he thinks, if it is a dream, he’s not ready for it to end quite yet—not when he hasn’t even been inside you.

He has to squeeze his eyes shut at the mewl you let out when he lets the tip of his cock bump against your swollen clit. Repeating the action, Mikko bites his lip as the sound trails directly to his balls. He isn’t sure how much longer he’s going to last before he loses control, but he pushes through it as he guides himself down, positioning himself at your entrance.

“You sure you want this?” he asks with a smile that tells you he knows you want it and that he just wants to hear you say it.

“Yes, Mikko,” you whine out, bucking your hips until he rewards you with the very tip pressing into your entrance. With a frustrated sigh, you add, “Fuck me, Mikko.”

He groans at your words, eyes shutting again as he wills himself not to finish right then and there. Another call of his name brings him back to the present, eyes connecting with yours, powered by the desperation in them. Slowly, patiently, he pushes forward, feeling the way your pussy grips even the first inch of him. He watches the way your eyes roll backward, relishing the way he stretches you.

It’s delicious, and as much as you want to tell him you can take it, part of you loves how he takes his time, letting you feel every single ridge and vein as they ease past your drooling lips. Before long, though, he’s sheathed inside you, feeling the flutter of your walls surrounding him.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, face buried in your neck. “You feel so fucking good.”

“You f—so—” gasp— “big. Fuck, Mikk—”

He wants to celebrate the fact that he’s rendered you almost speechless, that you’re a whimpering mess stuttering about how big his dick is, but he needs to move or he’ll die. He does, and he’s rewarded with your fingers digging into his shoulder blades—which is impressive, considering they’re covered in massage oil.

You’re in awe of the sheer size of him and the way that he reaches places you didn’t know existed. He reveals more of them each time he punches his hips forward, and you’re absolutely positive that he’s touching your organs when they nestle against the back of your thighs. It’s hot, it’s raw, it’s real, the way his skin feels on yours and the hot puffs of breath he exhales onto your neck.

Mikko is loving the way you mewl in his ear, determined to keep drawing those delicious sounds until you’re crying out his name and creaming on his cock. A hand slips from his shoulders to frantically paw at your clit, adding fuel to the fire that’s now roaring in your core. He can feel how wet you are, how tightly you’re squeezing him, the way your body is begging him to let you come.

The way you orgasm is ethereal, he thinks, how your mouth falls open and your head tilts back and your eyes flutter closed as the ripples of your release flow through you. The sound of the cry of his name is even better. He drinks it in, using it to drive himself home inside your quaking walls. A few pumps later and he’s pulling out to shoot his load on your lower stomach with a groan. Your pussy clenches at the sight, already wishing for a round two as you gaze up at him and how big he looks kneeling over you.

With a shy grin, Mikko slides off the bed and grabs an extra cloth from the counter to clean you off. It isn’t until after he’s pressed a few gentle kisses to your lips that he searches for your clothes and hands them to you; as the moment returns to normal, the reality of what you’ve just done sinks in and you gasp.

“I can’t believe we just did that—I—this is so unethical,” you say, envisioning the Board tearing your license to shreds.

Mikko frowns, slipping his robe back over his shoulders. “I’m not going to tell anyone, you know.”

You glance at him gratefully but shake your head. “It’s not just that—it’s so taboo and—I mean, a relationship is one thing, but just sex is so demeaning to myself as a female massage therapist—”

“Do you want to go out with me?”

“—and I—what?”

“Like, to dinner.”

“What?” you repeat incredulously.

His pinks turn pink and he casts his eyes to the floor. “Oh, it was just a question—”

“Mikko, I’d love to go to dinner with you.”

With the excitement of a child, your heart melts at the way his eyes light up in an instant. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod with a smile. “You owe me for making me risk my career.”

“I think that’s more than fair,” he grins. “But I can’t honestly tell you I’m sorry.”

“Me either.”

Six days later, when you’re panting through your third orgasm of the night, Mikko’s name a prayer on your lips, you think to yourself it was more than worth the risk.

#mikko rantanen fic #mikko rantanen smut #mikko rantanen imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #mikko rantanen blurb #mikko rantanen imagines #nhl blurb #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey blurb

279 notes · View notes

mystery-star · 1 year

Text

I posted 195 times in 2022

That's 127 more posts than 2021!

181 posts created (93%)

14 posts reblogged (7%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@harrypotter-and-the-onering

@mrs-mikko-rantanen

I tagged 179 of my posts in 2022

Only 8% of my posts had no tags

#mystery alaska - 56 posts

#ben wade - 37 posts

#3:10 to yuma - 36 posts

#ben wade x you - 23 posts

#john biebe - 23 posts

#ben wade imagine - 23 posts

#ben wade x reader - 23 posts

#anon - 20 posts

#jack aubrey - 18 posts

#anon ask - 18 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#while i'm just trying to keep my shit together and not have another mental breakdown bc we're on vacation and i'm supposed to be relaxed

My Top Posts in 2022:

Trapped - Spock

Pairing: Spock x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: swearing, bit of angst

Words: 818

A/N: Sorry that I have not published a lot for Spock lately but I have not been writing a lot in general. However, I have a few more short Spock stories in my drafts that I’ll publish in the following weeks.

Please do not repost my work on other sites or platforms!

It wasn’t your first away mission by far. And yet you hated that your boyfriend and superior officer treated you like a child. He would insist that he was not worried for worry was highly illogical and that as leader of the away mission he was responsible for everyone’s safety and felt it was necessary to remind some members of the rules. Sulking over it, you didn’t really focus on examining the bush in front of you.

“Ugh why did no one tell me it was gonna be so hot?” the partner you were teamed up with said, fanning himself. You only shrugged and threw a glance at him to see how he was sitting down on a small boulder a few feet away. Or better said tried to because the moment he was sitting, the rock moved and threw your colleague face first in the dirt. Had the situation been another, you might have laughed. But the animal that looked a little like a turtle, but one that could walk on two legs if it got up, let out a hurling roar before taking quick steps into your direction. After freezing for a second, you started running towards where you suggested other members of the landing party. “Help me” your colleague protested but since the being was more interested in you, you simply ignored him. As you were running, the ground suddenly started shaking a little more and as you looked back you swallowed hard.

“Oh fuck” you breathed. It seemed like a couple of friends had joined the turtle-being and were now all coming after you. You couldn’t even say how many there were but it still brought more energy for you to run. You met some other crewmembers and they didn’t even need to ask what was going on because they saw and heard your distress before you could even tell them to run.

“Let’s split up” someone suggested and after counting to five, the three of you ran into different directions. A glance behind told you that luckily, the beings had split up too so that now only two of them were still after you.

“Why did you have to sit down on that thing?” you scolded your colleague but still hoped that he was fine and didn’t have to deal with one of the beings while he still was on the ground.

“Ensign” you suddenly heard Spock’s voice. As you turned your head to the side to look at him, you almost fell over something on the ground but he caught you, pulling you along by the wrist. Luckily, he wasn’t asking what had happened. Not yet.

“What...” you pressed out when you saw him running towards a wall. Only a while later you saw the small crack in it that could probably fit the two of you but not the animals. Happy that soon it would be over, you sped up again, almost running as fast as your boyfriend who had been dragging you behind. Once you reached the tiny cave, Spock almost pushed you in before joining you. The space was very small; you couldn’t even stand properly and no matter how much you tried, you always were touching your boyfriend somewhere. It made you glad that he was here with you. You knew of Vulcans’ aversion to touch others if it could be helped.

“How did these beings end up chasing after you?” he asked and you were glad to hear he too was a little out of breath. Outside the cave the two ‘turtles’ tried getting into the crack as well but then gave up, making a lot of noise outside. You only hoped it wasn’t something bad, like them calling reinforcement.

“Jefferson” you started explaining how he sat down on what he thought to be a rock. “Regret you told me in particular not to touch anything?”

“The assumption that I told ‘you in particular’ is not correct since the entire landing party has been present when I gave you the instructions”

“And yet you looked at me” you replied under your breath “But thanks anyways. You really saved my ass out there”

“I fail to understand how solely your buttocks have been in peril” you chuckled

“It’s a saying”

“Have you been injured?”

“No, I’m fine. Just exhausted from the running. I hope the others are fine though” you explained that two other people were being chased too. By now the aliens in front of the wall had calmed down too. “Do you think they will stay for long?”

“I cannot say” you shrugged

“Well, I guess then all we can do is wait” you smiled because even though you both were on duty and therefore Spock would insisted on formalities and all, you still enjoyed spending some time with him. And the fact that you had to be close to each other made it even better...

46 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

To Boldly Write - Star Trek Masterlist (Jul 01 2022)

Please do not repost my work on other sites or platforms

Spock x Reader

Imagines

Assurance

Actions speak louder than Words [Smut]

The Biggest Compliment

Tender Loving Care

Wherever you go

Come and go

Shipping Experiment

Waiting for you

Of Trifles and Truffles

Secretive

Casually

Scaredy Cat

Series

The Romulan Incident

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

(K)night in Black Armor (Mafia AU) (Incomplete)

(K)ibA Series Masterlist

---

Spock x OC

Threshold of Space (Further Series)

The sequels are on FF.net

Passing Boundaries

See the full post

65 notes - Posted July 1, 2022

Scaredy Cat - Spock

Pairing: Spock x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: none

Words: 326

A/N: Yes. The writing challenge is still somewhat going and you get more short-Spocklets (at some point)

Please do not repost my work on other sites or platforms!

“Now come on, don’t be a scaredy-cat” you shouted in your fiancé’s direction when he refused to step onto the boat you currently were preparing to sail out.

“Interesting you should mention a feline” he said placing his bag on the floor.

“What? Are you scared of water?”

“No. It is illogical to fear water since it is something essential for most humanoids”

“So?” you asked, knowing there was something he didn’t tell you

“However, as Vulcans descend from felines, as you so often have to make fun of…”

“You don’t like water, just like cats” you concluded “But there are kitties that love water, you know?”

“I am well aware. Yet I doubt the term ‘kitty’ is fitting since it mostly are members of the subfamily Pantherinae that do not avoid water” you chuckled

“Alright then tiger, here you go” you got closer to him, grabbing his bag and throwing it onto the deck.

“Please do not handle my belongings so carelessly”

“Well, you can get them back if you come” you said, wiping some sweat off your face. “We have life vests, so neither of us is gonna drown” you pecked his cheek “You know, you’re the best First Officer a starship could wish for, so I’d love to have you as my deputy here”

“I do not know how to sail” you chuckled

“To be honest, I’m not too much of a sailor either. But” you clasped your hands together, giving him a solemn look “This thing has an engine. So we might not even need the sails”

“Then the term ‘sailing’ is not quite correct, I suppose” you chuckled

“At least it fits better than flying, huh?” when you looked back and saw he still hadn’t moved you let out a sigh “Alright, you know what either you get on the boat now or I’ll throw your bag overboard so you actually do have to get in the water to get it”

122 notes - Posted June 18, 2022

Secretive - Spock

Pairing: Spock x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: none

Words: 589

A/N: Just a little thing I wrote for a writing challenge.

Do not repost my work on other sites or platforms!

Of course you loved Spock. Deeply. But what you hated about the relationship is that he didn’t want anyone to know. At least if it could be helped. There were a few people who did know, after all.

“Hi (Y/N)” a fellow cadet shouted as he caught up with you, letting out a breath “Whew, your fast. Stole something?” you glanced at him and recognized him.

“Hi” you greeted back, not really wanting to look up from your PADD

“How about dinner tonight? Just the two of us, fancy restaurant, delicious food. What do you say? I bet you can use some actual social company after learning with the Vulcan.” he said the last word as if it was a curse.

“Spock and I get along very well”

“Bullshit” you didn’t reply. “Well, what about tonight?”

“I don’t want to”

“No? Come on, you’ll love it. It's a date” he gave a wink and smiled.

“That makes me say no even more”

“How so?”

“Well, first of all, I have a boyfriend”

“Bullshit”

“Just because you don’t like something doesn’t make it a lie” you said chuckling inwardly when you noticed it sounded like something Spock would say. “Okay, bye” you didn’t even look at him before walking off to meet your fellow cadet in the library. “Sorry I’m late” you said before sitting down and giving your boyfriend a chance to say something. He reacted with an eyebrow rise.

“I have not made a comment about your tardiness since you are not late” you checked the time. Indeed, you still were a minute early

“Oh, well” you sat down with a chuckle “I thought Charles slowed me down”

“How so?” you sighed, not sure if you wanted to tell him. You hated to tell him that every so often, you were asked to a date by other cadets. Often the same cadets that made fun of your boyfriend. Which was one of the reasons you always said no, even if they just wanted to be friends when hearing you were not romantically interested in them. But when he just kept looking at you, you sighed and told him what the other male had wanted “I understand”

“Doesn’t that bother you? Or make you mad?” he glanced at you and he folded his hand on the tabletop, leaning slightly closer to you.

“(Y/N), I am half-Vulcan and am therefore able to supress my emotions. Furthermore, even if this was impossible, I still would not feel either of the sentiments you have suggested since I trust you and know that getting emotional over such a matter is illogical. That is, as long as all these people do is simply ask you. In case someone ever bothers or even molests you, however, I will be willing to assist you, should you need me. Since others are unaware of our relationship and you are amiable, caring and attractive, it is only logical that other people desire a relationship with you and thus inquire if you are interested in them as well. Therefore, the sole thing that I am thinking about the matter is that I truly appreciate what we have and that you chose me” you smiled at his words.

“Thank you, Spock” you said “This means a lot to me. And you do too. Mean a lot to me, I mean” although there were people around, you leant over to him and quickly gave his hand a squeeze before leaning back and opening a textbook on your PADD “So, astrophysics, right?

246 notes - Posted February 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Casually – Spock

Pairing: Spock x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: none

Words: 337

A/N: Aaand here we go again with another piece I wrote for my writing challenge.

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Spock was lingering at the door frame while you were cooking

“Oh, if you’re already here, could you had me the carrots?” you asked, pointing at the vegetable.

“Is there some issue with the replicator that I may need to have a look?”

“Why?” you asked in confusion, tasting the sauce.

“Since you are cooking, I assumed…”

“Ah. Oh no” you chuckled, putting in some salt “I just saw this recipe and wanted to try it out because it seems tasty. I like cooking in a way” you admitted. He still hadn’t moved, so you pointed at the carrots again “Carrot?”

“(Y/N), there is something I would like to ask you”

“Sure. Go on” you said taking the carrot yourself, knowing he wasn’t even listening. On the other hand, Vulcans didn’t like touching raw food with their hands so it was mean of you to expect that from him.

“I have come to the realization that you mean everything to me and I do not desire to spend the rest of my life without you by my side” you chuckled

“That’s sweet. Same here, I love you, Spock”

“Thank you. Therefore, I wish to inquire if you could imagine marrying me. I do not mind if you prefer the human or the Vulcan…”

“Woah Spock” you glanced at him “You-you’re proposing that casually?”

“I was not aware there is some kind of ritual?”

“No. No there isn’t. Just… usually you wait for a special moment to ask. When everything fits”

“I see. However, as I have just had this realization – that I wish to be your husband – mere minutes ago during meditation, therefore I suppose the timing was rather adequate” you chuckled

“Well that’s just cute. You had the thoughts and immediately had to know. Logical and cute, I give you that” you smiled at him “Alright Spock, therefore that was the right time” you wiped your hands at the towel and walked over to him and cupped his face, gently kissing him on the lips “Yes”

390 notes - Posted March 23, 2022

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