Tmnt 2007 Mikey Novels & Stories

There was a man already sitting down and talking on his phone. The guy is drop dead Gorgeous! Of course he's not better looking then Matthew, but still... he's handsome. "Mikey, It's nice to see you." said Matthew looking down at the Man. This is Mikey??? Mikey's dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. He has perfect tan skin and judging by his biceps I can tell he works out a lot. I wonder what his abs looks like... "Hey Matt, it's been a while." said Mikey hanging up his phone. Then standing up and shaking Matthews hand.

Mateo said and Natalia nodded and smiled at me. “Me? Who? More friends?” “Nah, this one is a guy.. A badass guy. Well, I mean he looks like one.” “What was his name again?” Mateo asked as he turned around like he was about to call for him. “Zade?” Mikey said and Mateo clapped his hands. “Zade, Mike is back.” A young guy with full plump lips, blond short hair, 5 '9 tall or thereabout stepped out from the kitchen, ran, and gave Mikey a big hug. Mikey looked shocked, and traumatized.

The football team fists bump Mikey and it’s so much I could do to try to squeeze my tiny, 160-centimeter frame through the horde of broad-shouldered lackeys surrounding him and Becca, the new ‘It’ couple, it seems. Mikey is a hammerhead football player who’s dumber than a box of screws but I guess Becca doesn’t like him for his philosophical views on things. He is ginormous compared to his teammates, with broad shoulders and arms thicker than my thighs. He's also really handsome, in that rugged manly-man type of way. Not my type but I can still see the appeal... if he doesn’t open his mouth that is.

he says, tossing the page away. He eyes me curiously, and when I catch a certain scent, I grimace instantly. Sure enough Mikey pops out somewhere in the back, seemingly from a hole in the ground. He dashes to me in an instant. Like usual, he’s not wearing the standard suit the males in my family do. He’s got on a t-shirt that’s so worn it has a few scattered holes, and jeans equally old that are slung so low on his hips a female would be drooling over his skin on display. His body is a swarm of random tattoos and scars he wears with pride. Though none are on his face and glaringly obvious like mine. I instantly try to come up with a reason for being here right now, but I don’t have one. Then

His upper half was ripped, chest solid and looking as strong as ever, and he did look almost the same way some hours back. His legs were longer, giving him a taller height, and those feet made large impressions on the earth. Then his eyes fell on me, and his brows furrowed. Old Mikey appeared my side, almost out of breath, as if he had been running a marathon. He had his gun in both hands. "We don't need that, Mikey," I told him. "Why? You ever seen something like this? Can't be sure what it could do." "He won't hurt us."

A freaking hard chest, with proud pecs and which I'm sure his under a boring shirt hides his cute pink nipples. I lifted my head, and there they were... those addictive chestnut eyes, glaring down at me. The very eyes belonging to the reason I’d gotten wasted in the first place. Mikey. Fucking. Montero. This son of a bitch!

Mikey and I said in unison. "Sure" I brought popcorn and drinks in my room and got comfortable as Mikey put on a show. Almost thirty minutes later into the show. "I knew it, I knew the bitch was evil" Mikey screamed at my flatscreen, and the popcorn he was chewing flew out of his mouth. "Micah calm down" I stared at the chewed pieces on my rug and bed. I pointed towards the pieces." You're cleaning that up." "Make me" He threw a single popcorn on the floor, squinted my eyes at him. He gave me a nervous glance

The only thing which was visible in the dark was my pink pajamas, which had little pandas on them. Am I going to hide forever in the kitchen? Maybe I have to spend my night inside the kitchen because the monster is still lurking outside. Yes, that's what he was. A monster. Mr. Martin always hurts my Maa and, eventually, me and I hate him for that, but he never hurts Thomas. Instead, he loves him more than he would ever love my Maa.

She stared at him, no response to his comment. "What do you want Mikey?" She asked, arching her perfectly plucked brows. He wished she would stop calling him that. He was seven-teen years old now. Not a little kid, which is when the nickname Mikey came up. Mike bit into an apple that he had in his right hand, smiling as he chewed. What he was about to tell Brooke would change her attitude quickly. It was something they both could be very happy about. Brooke waited impatiently for him to swallow, her pointy narrow nose wriggling in frustration.

Mikey curses and looks around but I guess the coast is clear because he slips in and closes the door behind him, "I need you to make my face bleed somehow. Punch me hard." "What?" He asks, looking at me like I'm the biggest weirdo. Mikey is the slowest one, but he always does what I ask, "Fine, I guess..." He gets his fist ready and I brace myself, but right before he goes to punch me, he stops and grabs his rifle. "I think this is going to be easier," he says and takes it off the sling. I don't think he wants to shoot me, so I lift an eyebrow as I watch him turn it around to hit me with the back of it, "Bring your face closer."