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Wind whips through Black Siren's dyed-brown hair, pulling strands across her eyes and her ruby-black lips. The motorcycle's engine she stole revving and vibrating deliciously against her thighs.
Oliver won't miss his toy.
(Not when he's got so many of them to play with.)
Right on a turn, off the highway and onto an isolated, two-lane dirt road, Black Siren glimpses a bright red semi-truck pulled over. The door to driver's seat, also bright red and heavy-looking, popped wide open. She's not playing good citizen today — not in the mood — but slows down near the front-grill of the truck, peeking around for the driver themselves. Could at least give them a 911 call if needed.
The driver yelps on the ground, screaming out for help. His ruddy features scrunching up in pain. Black Siren cocks an eyebrow, as a woman nearby scoffs quietly, lowering her ice-misty hands.
She's in black-and-grey flannel tied around her waist and ripped, dark jeans. Tangled waves of platinum blonde hair. Abnormally skinny. Rosy, heart-shaped sunglasses perched on the bridge of her nose and barely hiding her silvery-blue eyes. Another metahuman? Kinda looks familiar to Black Siren.
Black Siren passes her, grabbing the driver's hand and hauling him up, glaring slightly when he curses at the woman. His crotch frozen. "Go thaw out in the river," Black Siren grits out, shoving him towards the tree-line.
As soon as he vanishes, Black Siren lazily stretches and pats off her gray, woolen hoodie. Her kneecaps exposed through the big, gaping holes in her jeans. PEOPLE ARE POISON — the supposed brand name for her (also stolen) clothes etched out in bold text-print against Black Siren's left arm-sleeve.
"Where ya headed?"
"Far from this dump," the woman mutters. A sultry, deep voice. Black Siren mulls it over, licking her lips unconsciously and trying to ignore the stare of lust and intrigue from her companion. No, absolutely no — picking up a hitchhiker is one thing, but fucking their brains out in the middle of Nothing, Nowheretown is another thing entirely. Even if Ice Queen sends out all of those 'I can fuck you so good' vibes.
She returns to her motorcycle, revving it back up. "Hop on," Black Siren says vacantly, waiting for her to scoot in, placing her extremely cold hands lightly to her sides. "Got a name?"
"… … Caity." Killer Frost — that's right, she remembers the news article online while living in Star City — leans against Black Siren, wrapping her arms to her midsection. A strong grip. Strong enough to hold Black Siren down, ease between her legs and give her a mind-blowing experience to remember. "Yours?"
"Dinah," Black Siren answers, furrowing her brows as one of Killer Frost's hands glides over her neck. A whisper of frost, of threat and of promise, emerging and melding to Black Siren's flesh.
"Nice to make your acquaintance."
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DCTV isn't mine. I needed this team up. Or for them to make eyes at each other. I don't care which. CROSSOVER FEMSLASH NEEDED. Okay so today's Femslash February prompt was "Blue" and the challenge prompt was "Picking Up A Hitchhiker" and yeeeee it's go time! Any comments/thoughts would be most appreciated!