What If? (Pt.3)
Title: What If? (Pt.3)
Summary: You indulge yourself in a harmless passion, following a train of thought, but when Mikey catches a glimpse it may not be so harmless after all.
Characters: Mikey x Reader
Word Count: 1750
Warnings: Angst, fluff, body image… issues? I guess? Fighting
Author’s Notes: IT kEePS GRoWING D: welcome to the final chapter. Take a fucking sip babes and strap in.
Mikey’s hands won’t stop trembling. Every ounce of curiosity and joy in his body had crystallized to a dull, chilling throb caught in his throat. At first Mikey thought the man might have been a friend of yours from before they took you in. He wondered when you had gone to see him, and be gone long enough to draw him. Then, slowly, the similarities trickled through him like ice water. Nothing big, just the pose and the smile. The clear love of 90’s fashion. This drawing in particular had confused him until he saw the title.
What if? - Mikey
It winded him. He was fully and truly confused. He couldn’t concentrate. All the focus he had was on the man on the page. His head grew cloudy and his heart jumped into his throat.
Raph’s thunderous steps fade as you enter the room more and more. You cautiously approach the moody turtle. Mikey’s back has been fully turned to you as he leans on the wall. He crosses his arms and lets out a small childish huff, looking over his shoulder a little.
“Well?” he quietly spits. He waits a moment in the empty silence. The stool groans as he whips around to face you, his hurt and anger rising again. “Well?” The venom in his voice makes you flinch.
A single long green finger ran over the man and Mikey felt himself reach that unmistakable lightheadedness that comes right before you cry. His chest twitched inwards as the first small sob escaped involuntarily. Ever since he was a kid he had been incredibly insecure about being a sentient freaking turtle and it was a soft spot for him and his brothers. All of them wish they were human every now and again, but Mikey had finally convinced himself that someone else- and most importantly he- could learn to love him as he is. After he and Y/N spoke for hours in deep and emotional conversation he found himself not being so hard on himself. When he sat down and had to either sit on the edge of the seat or almost lay down because of his bulky shell, instead of mentally cursing himself out for being so large he started cheering himself on cause that size is what took down Donnie the other day in training. When he sees himself in reflections he’s stopped quickly turning away, and instead studying it, testing expressions. He had hope. Every drop of self-doubt leaked back into his pores while he locked eyes with the man he wishes he was.
At your flinch, Mikeys bravado cracks, just a little. As he looks at your small face and your quivering lip he realizes that you were legitimately frightened of him, even if only for a second. He was a monster. A frustrated growl escapes him. He runs his hands over his face then locks his fingers behind his head, turning away from you. You attempt to compose yourself. Mend the damage, lessen the blow.
“Mikey,” you start, unsure how to continue. “Mikey, I’m sorry.” He whips towards you, jaw set. Fire swirls in his eyes. “I didn’t mean anything by it, but I know it hurt you.” Guilt tangles with the fire. You start pacing and your hands twitch and move with your words. “Especially after what you told me, I never should’ve even thought that shit. I convinced myself it was a natural thought to have but that’s not fair to you.” Guilt wins. “I really really care about you and I’d never want to hurt you. Ever.” You start tearing up and your words flow faster and faster. “Mikey, you’re my best friend and I hate that I hurt you but I hope you can forgive me.” Faster still. “Idon’tknowwhatI’ddowithoutyou, please don’t hate me, M.”
You stop pacing and continue to ramble apologies, while beginning to cry. Any resentment Mikey harboured melted away. He thought you didn’t care about him, that you wanted him to change before you could care, but now that he rationally thought about it he knew that was ridiculous.
By this point you are actually blubbering. You hate hurting people and fucking up and confrontation and this is all three. Somewhere in your messy jumble of words you said you would leave him alone so you started to hobble away, aiming for the ice cream in the fridge. A large hand clamps onto your shoulder and spins you around. Mikey hugs you with everything he has while you slowly raise your arms to hug him back. He doesn’t hate me? Both of your minds are reeling. You sob into his chest, gripping him as hard as you can. One hand below your shoulder blades, the other on the back of your head, he shoves you deeper into his chest and rests his face on the top of your head. Mikey breathes you in deeply, his head swimming. Relief laced with shampoo and vanilla overwhelm him until he too is crying. You stay like this for a while.
Once you both stopped crying you awkwardly left saying you’d give him space. He didn’t want you to go, but he pulled himself together and watched you leave. He had crawled into bed and laid awake until Raph returned, climbing in above him. You skulked off to your room bumping into Donnie on the way, who gave you a quick sympathetic hug and went on his way. A hollow feeling crept over you. You put away the art supplies you had on your bed and rolled to the center pulling a blanket over yourself. A minute or two pass and there’s a knock on your door.
“Um, Y/N?” Donnie’s quiet voice carries through the room. You barely peek your head over the blanket to shoot him a look to see him juggling two tubs of ice cream, a bunch of pillows and a laptop. “I figured you could use some company.” He cautiously pads into the room. Quietly, you sit up. Donnie drops everything on the end of your bed and starts setting everything up, eventually settling in beside you. You both sat stiffly next to each other until you moved to cuddle into him. He wraps a comforting arm around you and gently kisses the top of your head and presses play on the movie. You were fine for a few minutes until the stress of the day hot you like a ton of bricks and you started to cry again. Crying sucks. I’ve never fucking cried so much. Donnie rubs your shoulder as you cry yourself to sleep.
It took a few days, but eventually everything between you and Mikey were back to normal. You two were on the couch surrounded by snacks, playing Mario kart and teasing each other. “No, no no nO NO! YOU BITCH” You side check Mikey while a string of curses fall out. A hearty laugh rolls out of him and you join him in giggling. Mikey kept a solid eye on you in his peripheral while you laugh. It makes him melt. You shine in the tv light and Mikey loses all regard for the game, instead watching you. Your eyes flick back and forth between the game and Mikey after noticing his character had gotten severely worse. “Dude, DUDE, you’re losing! MIKEY!”
The race results roll across the screen and you turn to look at him like he punched himself in the face. Concerned, confused, and a little giggly. “What the fuck was that?” He chuffed with a smirk and turned his gaze to his lap.
“Hey, Y/N?” His voice was small, making you pause.
“What up? Are you ok?” He chuckles and laughingly shakes his head.
“Yeah Angelcakes, I’m good.” His body stiffens and tenses as he mentally rehearses. “But uh… ok, Dollface, I gotta just do something real quick, ok?” Your eyebrows crease and your concern only grows.
“Uh, of course? Do what you gotta, man.” You study him for a few moments, waiting. He looks up at you, steels his nerve, and grabs your hand turning to face you. Your clueless self sits in confusion waiting. He looks like he’s in pain. Geez if he wanted some contact he only had to ask. You smile warmly, thinking you’ve figured it out and go to hug him. With miscommunication thicker than dense jungle, Mikey’s nerves slip away thinking you’ve taken initiative. You both close your eyes.
Oh. You think.
Warm. Your face flushes, feeling the heat of the fireworks in your mind. Mikey’s hand snakes to your side and gingerly rests on your waist shooting familiar electricity up his arm as he softly kisses you. You don’t move for a moment, stunned. Mikey’s mind raced thinking he had done something wrong until you slowly brought your free hand to cup his jaw. Your thumb rubs down his cheek and a finger traces patterns where his neck meets his head. Because of this, a small tremor runs through him and rest in his lap, leaving him warm and fuzzy. The large hand on yours tenderly tightens and you turn it upwards, lacing your fingers as best you can. An enchanting fire takes hold of both of you as the kiss deepens.and deepens until you both stop to breathe. Your mind catches up to your body and, after a second and some staggering breaths, your eyes pop open. Mikey’s eyes had opened immediately but his brain won’t catch him for weeks. Your gazes finally meet. His face splits into the most dazzling, soft, dopey, sweet smile you had ever seen that warms you deeply.
“Haaaaoooohk” Mikey mutters under his breath, his wide eyes looking stunned.
“Oh,” you sigh. A sweet moment in the silence then you both break into a laughing fit. In between giggles he slowly lifts your hand, only barely breaking eye contact, and presses it to his lips with a cheeky grin. You both quiet and continue holding hands for a minute.
“That’s gonna happen like waay more often right? Cause I want that to happen way more often.” You crack up again, just a bit.
“Heh, ok. Good.” he states, with a trace of arrogance in his voice. “… Hey Y/N?”
“I’ve never seen someone draw before, could I-” he trails off for a moment, “-maybe watch you do it sometime?” He tries (and fails) to hide his excitement and anticipation. This is the cutest fucking thing.
@savvy-mutant-turtle-banger your guys tags don’t seem to be working but don’t say I didn’t try