kink meme repost - lian/milagro
Nov. 20th, 2010 05:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
txibiaTitle: Arsonists Get All The Girls
Fandom: DCU
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Lian Harper/Milagro Reyes
Genre: futurefic
Prompt: Milagro Reyes/Lian Harper futurefic, derby girls
arsonists get all the girls
El Paso's Las Chulas are in Chicago for the national invitational. They're a scrappy team, all their starters save one washouts from other teams and leagues, and that they've made it this far is a testament to grit, spirit, and esprit de corps.
Also, they're fucking brutal and take no prisoners. That probably has something to do with it.
La Mariquita is the de facto captain and the best blocker in the Southwest. Small, stout, yet somehow speedy on the skates, she can duck and sweep and take out any team's jammer with a flick of her elbow and twitch of her pigtails.
Off the track, she's a sweetheart, a 3.89 GPA student at UT-Austin and volunteer nurse's aide, or so they say. No outsider can confirm that. Because once she gets those skates on, Alberto and Bianca's little girl is tougher than Power Girl and meaner than Batman.
This weekend, with just three meets under their wheels, she's already taken down five opposing skaters. One jammer - Blazing Arson - went to the hospital with a broken nose, but hermana really should've known how to fall. Everyone said so.
It was her legs, giraffe-long and ballerina-strong, that got in her way. She was tall and willowy, so long-legged she might've looked ridiculous on skates if she hadn't skated so well: knife through butter, wind off the sea, pretty poetry for a gorgeous girl.
She was from all over, but most recently skated out of Star City. No one *actually* knew where she was from, who her parents might have been, what she lived on. (Freelance DIY pharmacopia, as a matter of fact. Her daddy was not exactly proud. Her grandfather, however, loved her needle exchange and homebrewed methadone program.)
Arson's got a mouth dirtier than the backed-up urinal in a boozecan on the South Side. "Push me down and let Satan fuck me up the ass, what the fuck're you doing here, Reyes? Come to gloat?"
Milagro betrays no surprise that Lian knows her name. They...move in adjacent circles. Not just derby ones. They've known each longer than just about anyone.
She sets the bouquet of roses (blue, she couldn't resist) on the windowsill and takes the chair next to Lian's bed. "No gloating. Just wanted to..."
"What? Give me a matching shiner?"
"You can pull it off." She touches Lian's wrist; she was telling the truth. Even with a black eye, Lian's beauty was undeniable. In fact, the black eye kind of suited her. Especially when she snarled like this.
Lian pokes at the scabs on Milagro's plump knees. "What the fuck have I told you about wearing your pads?"
"I forgot," Milagro says. "Once."
"All it takes." Lian's smile flashes, and then she winces at the way it disrupts her bruised eye and swollen nose. "Fuck, that stings."
Milagro stares at her. "I'm sorry. I thought you were heading for Anger-uh Davis and I just..."
"I was heading for her, the bitch. You did your job," Lian says. "I wouldn't even be *talking* to you if you'd held back."
Milagro exhales, her head swimming a little. Huffing impatiently, Lian reaches out and shoves down the bed's side rail. In a moment, Milagro clambers up onto the bed and curls up along Lian's side, arm flung over her waist, face buried in her long, swanlike neck. She smells like disinfectant and hospital, but underneath that, like herself, like sweat and Poison perfume.
"Missed you," Milagro murmurs into Lian's skin.
Lian kisses the part in her hair and rests her cheek against Milagro's scalp. "You, too, you big fucking goober."
Milagro's arm tightens around Lian's waist and Lian blows a raspberry on her forehead.
"Grampa's coming soon," Lian tells her a little later, her tone long-suffering and martyred. "He's bringing food."
"Ew, no," Milagro says. "That shit isn't chili."
"You know that, I know that. Try telling *him*."
Milagro tips back her head and traces the bruise on Lian's face. "Stay a little longer?"
Lian's good eye drifts close and she kisses Milagro's palm. "Can't say no to you."
"'cause I'm cute."
"'cause you already put me in the hospital. Don't wanna visit the morgue."
Fandom: DCU
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Lian Harper/Milagro Reyes
Genre: futurefic
Prompt: Milagro Reyes/Lian Harper futurefic, derby girls
arsonists get all the girls
El Paso's Las Chulas are in Chicago for the national invitational. They're a scrappy team, all their starters save one washouts from other teams and leagues, and that they've made it this far is a testament to grit, spirit, and esprit de corps.
Also, they're fucking brutal and take no prisoners. That probably has something to do with it.
La Mariquita is the de facto captain and the best blocker in the Southwest. Small, stout, yet somehow speedy on the skates, she can duck and sweep and take out any team's jammer with a flick of her elbow and twitch of her pigtails.
Off the track, she's a sweetheart, a 3.89 GPA student at UT-Austin and volunteer nurse's aide, or so they say. No outsider can confirm that. Because once she gets those skates on, Alberto and Bianca's little girl is tougher than Power Girl and meaner than Batman.
This weekend, with just three meets under their wheels, she's already taken down five opposing skaters. One jammer - Blazing Arson - went to the hospital with a broken nose, but hermana really should've known how to fall. Everyone said so.
It was her legs, giraffe-long and ballerina-strong, that got in her way. She was tall and willowy, so long-legged she might've looked ridiculous on skates if she hadn't skated so well: knife through butter, wind off the sea, pretty poetry for a gorgeous girl.
She was from all over, but most recently skated out of Star City. No one *actually* knew where she was from, who her parents might have been, what she lived on. (Freelance DIY pharmacopia, as a matter of fact. Her daddy was not exactly proud. Her grandfather, however, loved her needle exchange and homebrewed methadone program.)
Arson's got a mouth dirtier than the backed-up urinal in a boozecan on the South Side. "Push me down and let Satan fuck me up the ass, what the fuck're you doing here, Reyes? Come to gloat?"
Milagro betrays no surprise that Lian knows her name. They...move in adjacent circles. Not just derby ones. They've known each longer than just about anyone.
She sets the bouquet of roses (blue, she couldn't resist) on the windowsill and takes the chair next to Lian's bed. "No gloating. Just wanted to..."
"What? Give me a matching shiner?"
"You can pull it off." She touches Lian's wrist; she was telling the truth. Even with a black eye, Lian's beauty was undeniable. In fact, the black eye kind of suited her. Especially when she snarled like this.
Lian pokes at the scabs on Milagro's plump knees. "What the fuck have I told you about wearing your pads?"
"I forgot," Milagro says. "Once."
"All it takes." Lian's smile flashes, and then she winces at the way it disrupts her bruised eye and swollen nose. "Fuck, that stings."
Milagro stares at her. "I'm sorry. I thought you were heading for Anger-uh Davis and I just..."
"I was heading for her, the bitch. You did your job," Lian says. "I wouldn't even be *talking* to you if you'd held back."
Milagro exhales, her head swimming a little. Huffing impatiently, Lian reaches out and shoves down the bed's side rail. In a moment, Milagro clambers up onto the bed and curls up along Lian's side, arm flung over her waist, face buried in her long, swanlike neck. She smells like disinfectant and hospital, but underneath that, like herself, like sweat and Poison perfume.
"Missed you," Milagro murmurs into Lian's skin.
Lian kisses the part in her hair and rests her cheek against Milagro's scalp. "You, too, you big fucking goober."
Milagro's arm tightens around Lian's waist and Lian blows a raspberry on her forehead.
"Grampa's coming soon," Lian tells her a little later, her tone long-suffering and martyred. "He's bringing food."
"Ew, no," Milagro says. "That shit isn't chili."
"You know that, I know that. Try telling *him*."
Milagro tips back her head and traces the bruise on Lian's face. "Stay a little longer?"
Lian's good eye drifts close and she kisses Milagro's palm. "Can't say no to you."
"'cause I'm cute."
"'cause you already put me in the hospital. Don't wanna visit the morgue."