#mickxoc

So I got this idea after reading a couple of @reversephysics amazing MickxPlus Sized Reader stories and no this is not currently an OC I am going to RP with. She might eventually join the cast here, but for now, she’s just a girl meant to enjoy life with everyone’s favorite arsonist.

Enjoy

“C’mon sugar, give daddy some sugar.”

“I’m flattered but sorry. I’m not interested.” 

“Don’t be such a stuck up bitch. What other guy is gonna give a healthy gal like you the time of day huh?” 

Michele clenched her jaw at the bar patrons words. Sure, she was huskier than some women, had perhaps a few extra pounds, but it wasn’t something she was necisarilly proud of. At a size 16-18 jean size, she was already self conscious enough about her weight, and then there were men like this jackass who thought that just cause they paid her some skeezy, degrading “compliments” she’d give them what they wanted. 

Instead of getting angry though, the chestnut haired woman opted to try and just walk away. She’d barely gotten three steps towards the bar when a rough and firm hand took hold of her wrist, causing the tray she’d been holding to clatter to the floor and the glasses on it to shatter. 

“Listen bitch, I don’t appreciate you ignoring me like that.” The man growled, rising to his feet and pulling her in close to him. 

“Ow! Let me go!” Michele pleaded trying to pry her wrist from his grasp. “You’re hurting me!”

“Then be a good little whore and give daddy his sugar.” 

“The lady said let go.” The sound of a rough, heated voice drew both people’s attention to the source. A man was standing next to the jukebox, a beer in hand as he changed the song to an old 70′s song. Love Will Keep Us Together by Captain and Tennille. 

“Hey pal, this don’t concern you.” 

“It does when she obviously doesn’t want anything to do with you.” His gaze shifted to the man, blue eyes staring almost into the man’s core. Michele managed to get a better look at him now, and her heart fluttered. She knew his face, and she knew him.

He was Mick Rory, notorious thief, arsonist, and partner to one Leonard Snart. 

“Listen bud, if I want your opinion...” The drunken man said, tightening his grip on Michele’s wrist and drawing a cry of pain from her. “I’ll ask for it. Now beat it!”

“Big mistake...” Mick growled. He drank down the last of his beer before smashing the bottle into the side of the patron’s face, followed by his grabbing a fistful of hair and driving his face into the denim clad surface of his knee. 

There was a sickening crunch as the cartilage in his nose broke, but Mick didn’t seem at all phased by it. Michele wasn’t sure what to feel. On the one hand, she should’ve been calling the cops and having Mick arrested. He was a wanted man after all. 

On the other, he’d just saved her, and though she knew of his reputation, he didn’t scare her. 

“You alright?” Mick asked noticing Michele standing there mouth agape. He glanced down at her wrist and made a note of the bruise already forming there. 

“Hm? Yeah... I uh... I think so?” Michele muttered staring at the man on the floor. 

“He ain’t dead.” Mick said having read the panic in her eyes. “I ain’t lookin’ to draw attention to myself.”

“I-It’s fine...” Michele said. When she looked up from where she’d been staring, she was surprised to see Mick had closed the distance between them, his hand taking her injured wrist. Instead of being rough or harsh though, he was ginger in his movements. 

He pulled it up to his eye level, looking over the bruise and looking rather pissed off.

“I may be a thief, but nobody has the right to hurt a woman.” He growled before looking her in the eye. “You’re gonna wanna ice that. It’s probably sprained.”

“I-I will... Thank you.” Michele said, making no move to pull her hand away from his. “Um... Next drink is on the house. My way of saying thanks.”

Mick smirked at this. His gaze never moved past her lips, something Michele found odd. Most guys either looked her over and mocked her for her weight, or they would make all sorts of lewd comments that had her crying when she would ge home to her little one bedroom flat. 

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” He said. Michele managed a small smile and motioned for him to join her at the bar, stepping away just so she could slip behind and grab him another beer. 

“I haven’t seen you in here before.” She said, reaching into the cooler to pull out a Red Stripe. She’d used her right hand though and winced as soon as the ice made contact with her skin. 

“Needed a new watering hole.” Mick said reaching across the counter and grabbing the beer for her. “Stop using that hand.” 

“Force of habit... You get roughed up enough, you learn to work through the pain.” Michele said, her tone taking on a hint of depression. She was used to it. After all, she was just the bartender at a dive bar, not like she had any right to turn people down if they chose to push her around. 

“That kind of thing happen often?” Mick asked, his tone becoming dangerously calm. 

“This kinda place? At least seven, eight times a week. With jobs so hard to find though.” Michele explained using her uninjured hand to wipe the bar down with a dingy towel she’d had on her shoulder. “Can’t just go quitting the job cause a few customers are having a bad day.”

“Bull shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s bull shit. Any guy decides to put hands on you, you have every right to kick his ass.” Mick said with a determined growl. “Especially a woman as beautiful as you.”

And there it was. Michele scoffed to herself, thinking that the only reason he’d saved her was so he could be the “nice guy” that stepped in so he could score with her instead of the other guy. 

“So that’s how it is...” She said with a disbelieving tone. 

“How what is?”

“I’ve seen guys like you. Always swooping in to be the hero when the damsel needs it just to get a cheap lay out of it.” Michele said dropping the towel onto the bar, her arms crossing over her chest. “Well tell you what, I am not some Truck Stop Floozy.”

“That happen to you a lot? I was just saying you look nice. I wasn’t looking to get you to bed.” Mick said, amused at her reaction to a misunderstanding. 

“Sure. Next you’re gonna say ‘Nice guys finish last’ or ‘Why do all the girls like you fall for assholes like him?’, am I right?” Michele asked, trying to ignore her discomfort. Her wrist was starting to hurt like hell, but she didn’t want to give Mick the satisfaction of proving her wrong. A small part of her wanted him to though, even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself.

She’d only ever read fairy tales about love at first sight, or Prince Charming saving the day. And it always happened to beautiful princesses, not people like her. 

“I don’t buy into that Nice Guy crap. And I ain’t no hero. Not in the job description.” Mick explained taking a long drink of his beer. “Besides, I like my women a little thicker.” 

This caused Michele to flush bright pink in the cheeks, her shoulder length brown curls doing nothing to hide the blush. 

“Tell you what, I’m staying at this place for a night or two...” Mick said writing his address down on a napkin and sliding it over to her. “You change your mind, hit me up. It doesn’t have to be a hook up or anything. I just wanna see you again.” 

And with that he set his beer bottle down and started for the door. Michele stared at the napkin for a moment, and what she did next anyone who knew her would’ve called her crazy for. 

She hurried out from behind the bar, caught up to Mick before he reached the door and took his hand with her left one. As soon as he turned to face her, Michele leaned up and placed her lips against his. 

Mick, a little surprised but not unhappy with the situation, wrapped his arms around her middle and stepped forward, backing her up until she was stopped by the bar. THe kiss soon became his domination over her, teeth biting her lips, his tongue entrapping hers, and his hands holding her waist firmly.

When the two finally broke apart, Michele stared up at him, almost as if she were wondering what had just come over her. 

“I thought you didn’t want some guy to just get in your pants.” Mick growled, his lips ad stubble brushing against her cheek when leaned in to talk in her ear. 

“I-I don’t... I just...” Michele gasped, leaning her head back and allowing him access to her neck which he took full advantage of. “I couldn’t stop myself...Ah!” 

“How much do you need this job?”

“You’re driving.” Michele said grabbing her purse from over the bar before taking Mick’s hand and pulling him out into the cool night air.