#mick rory
Rip: I’m going to assume that whatever it is you’re doing is entirely legal
Sara: Of Course
Mick: Entirely
Rip: Right. Wasnt here. Didn’t see it. Couldn’t of stopped you.
Snart: Good Idea
What do people who don’t watch Arrowverse shows do in October? I- I need- I need help
Nate: One day, you could be a father.
Mick: One day? I am a father.
Nate: IT’S A RAT, MICK!
Mick: HE’S MY BLOOD!
Hank: Are you friends with this criminal?
Mick: No, he’s not.
Nate:Absolutely. Best friends.
Mick: It’s a layered relationship.
Ray: Whoa, I bring nothing to the table? Oh, really? You ever stop for one second to think about hey, where did all the groceries come from, Mick? Oh, how did my laundry get so clean? Oh, oh, who washed all the dishes today?
Mick: Nobody washes the dishes! We eat the food directly off the coffee table, and you know it!
Mick, about Amaya: Look, Pretty, you’re obviously upset about the animal girl, so we’ve called a truce to out.
Nate: I’m not upset.
Zari:Nate, we found you in the park throwing rocks at old couples.
Nate:WHY SHOULD THEY BE HAPPY?!
Amaya: When using the totems, is there anything you heard or saw in your mind that stuck out to you?
Mick: Well, I think everybody knows my love of animals and, you know, my heroic deed of defending a dog. So I heard a haunting melody about dogs that has escaped, and the cry that went up from across the town of who let all these dogs escape? Where have these dogs gone? Who did this? Who? Who? Who? Who?
Amaya: Alright, I’m sorry I asked.
Mick: It’s haunting. It’s terrifying. Just the sheer panic in the people’s voices as they call for who the– who’s the culprit? Who’s done this terrible deed?
Amaya: Yeah, alright.
Nate: I heard Cheeseburger in Paradise—
Amaya:Next.
Nate: —the live version. The live one. Not, not the album.
Wally: I saw Paul Blart 3. That’s right, it’s coming, folks.
Ray: It’s nice to be reminded how beautiful and full of love life can be.
Mick:Nope.
Amaya: I think you’re just being nice.
Mick: I think if you ask around, you’ll discover that’s unlikely.
Imagine:
Mick gets defensive about roasting a guy for hitting on you…
*~*~*~*~*
“Brat.”
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
“Jackass.”
The heat between you and Mick practically sizzled the air, so much that it made the whole room unbearably hot.
Yet, two of you hardly cared.
Crossing your arms, you stood firm and held your ground. A defiant act that you knew would piss off the pyromaniac to no end. As if to prove your point, Mick glowered and took a step forward, his gigantic, lumbering frame hovering almost completely over you.
You raised your head to match his gaze.
“You know something,” he grumbled, baring his teeth. “You really piss me off.”
“I don’t see why,” you snapped back. “It’s not like I did anything wrong.”
“AndIdid?”
Just hearing his words made you scoff. “You roasted a man alive.”
Literally.
The burn patient had to be hospitalized and, if what Rip told you was true, had to be placed in rehab.
Talk about overkill.
Not that Mick cared much.
There was a dark twinkle in his eyes when he received the news.
“You’re welcome,” he said, recalling his pleasant memory. “Now, if that’s all you gotta say, get lost.”
He shoved past you and stomped away. Surprised, you stumbled and fell against a table, the corner jabbing right at your side. A sharp pain started.
Yet, you hardly noticed it as a dark, simmering anger boiled inside of you. For a moment, everything went red.
And then, the next thing you knew, your fingers wrapped around the edge of a cold metallic bowl and hurled it across the room. It bounced harmlessly off of the pyromaniac’s head; but, even so, he stopped mid-track and tensed.
His hard, veiny muscles rippled underneath his shirt.
While it was a view you found extremely hot, the dirty look he shot you over his shoulder was enough to drown out whatever attraction you held for him. Still certain, you crossed your arms once more and raised your head.
You dared him to hit you, smack you back.
You fuckin’ daredhim.
His hands still clenched in fists, he slowly turned his body to face you.
Mick scowled. “Oh, you’re gonna get it, girlie.”
Before you could ask the man what he meant, the pyromaniac was soon in front of you. He dipped down, wrapped his arm around your waist, hoisted you over his shoulder and stood up.
The sudden change in direction was enough to make you dizzy.
Shit, you cursed. For a big guy, he sure moves fast…
Still, you managed to somehow kick your legs and beat his back. Though you couldn’t see him, you knew very well that he rolled his eyes.
You pounded his back harder. “Let me go…!”
“Not a chance,” he grumbled. “Brat.”
“You’re so –uuugghhhhhh!!”
You struggled more and more to slip out of his grasp; but, his grip just kept getting tighter. Almost to the point where you choked out your stomach’s contents.
When you refused to cease movement, Mick let out a derisive snort, reared his hand back and landed a hefty blow to your behind. A sharp sting radiated across your skin, rendering your left cheek sore.
You gasped. “What the hell was that for?!”
“It’s like I said, girly,” he turned on his heel and started down the hall, towards his room. “You’re gonna get it…”
*~*~*~*~*
Requested by: Anonymous
Prompt: So, I was wondering if you could write a Mick Rory piece that involves a spanking??? Thank you ^_^
