Fire And Ice

BY : Saber0
Category: 1 through F > Arrow
Dragon prints: 5358
Disclaimer: I do not own the CW's Flash or Arrow and I make no money on this.

Fire and Ice

From the very beginning of the Earth X crossover, I was struck by how great it would be if Mick and Caitlin had a drunk wedding hookup. Things kind of snowballed from there. (I've written two more direct continuations and keep thinking up more.) It's probably has to do with how I feel both Danielle Pannabaker and the Caitlin/Killer Frost dynamic are massively underutilized.

I set this around the events of the crossover and the narrative is rather choppy because I did not feel like re-writing a lot of scenes from the show. The two sequels I've written are a lot better structured as I did not set them during any particular episodes.

Note: I don't have an editor, so any comments or critiques are welcome.

Part 1: Unconventional Attraction

Caitlin Snow had grown accustomed to waking up in strange places. When you had a split personality with impulse control issues, it elevated the difficulty beyond normal bleary-eyed morning confusion. Once she had regained consciousness days later and several states away, nursing the aftermath of something hallucinogenic. While Killer Frost's metahuman physiology recovered quickly, Caitlin still suffered the effects of anything lingering in her system.

In this case, the usual aches and pains of whatever Killer Frost had been up to were reinforced with the dehydration of a hangover. As she blinked in the early morning sunlight, the room hovered blearily on the edge of recognition. She brushed a strand of brown hair from her face and started to untangle her limbs from a blanket that reeked of sweat and alcohol. Her confusion escalated into panic as she realized that underneath, she was naked. 

The last thing she remembered was hitting the open bar after Barry and Iris' wedding reception. While she was glad for them, their happiness—especially their happiness with each other—started to irritate after a while. After the euphoric couple left, Caitlin had joined the other singles in trying to drown her regret and jealousy. It had been a bad idea at the time and was looking even worse in hindsight.

She clutched the blanket to her chest and leaned against a nearby couch. The stickiness between her legs and what she remembered from last night indicated that Killer Frost had taken things in hand, presumably with whoever’s house this was. "Relax, Caitlin," she whispered. "It's not like you're the first girl to have a one-night stand at a wedding." She rubbed her temple, hoping it would relieve some of her headache. "Just the only one that has to deal with the aftermath without any of the fun.”

She realized that statement was more sad than funny, but clamped down on those feelings and tried to get her bearings. If she was lucky, whoever Killer Frost had seduced last night was not anyone she knew and would have to face on a regular basis. Especially as she would have no idea of what exactly they and her split personality had done last night. 

Apparently, their sexual acrobatics had included wrecking most of this living room. The furniture and knickknacks were disheveled and beer bottles were littered on most surfaces. Books had been knocked from several broken shelves and most of the pictures on the wall were askew. She found her dress among the clothes strewn around the room, but her bra and panties were out of sight. Walking forward, Caitlin picked up a fallen family portrait: it was Martin Stein, his wife and daughter.

"No wonder this place looked familiar." While Professor Stein and Ronnie had been bonded and after the latter's death the Stein family had been a comfort to Caitlin. As she was reasonably sure that even Killer Frost would respect that, she must have slept with one of their house guests. She wracked her brain trying to remember which of the Legends had been at the rehearsal and if any of them were staying with Martin.

Sara...had still been at the bar when Caitlin last remembered, but had been fairly intimate with the woman who came with Supergirl. While it would not surprise her if the Killer Frost personality manifested any latent bisexuality in her psyche, the two of them had been far too into each other.

Ray and most of the newer Legends either had not been invited or could not make it—she did not remember which. 

Which left Jax, who, in Caitlin’s mind, was not all that terrible an option. They had not talked much, but there was a solid earnestness to him that reminded her of Ronnie. Killer Frost could have been drawn to him for the same reason. Of course, he was a little young for her, but that still left him a better alternative than—

Mick Rory stepped into the room holding a bowl of cereal while completely naked. His body gleamed with sweat and blocky muscles. Her eyes were inevitably pulled to his penis, which did not dangle so much as it swung aggressively with each step. It was easily the thickest Caitlin had seen and she found herself thinking it was no wonder she was sore. He followed her gaze and grinned, his eyes alight in a way she had only seen when he was trying to burn Barry alive.

He remained silent while she struggled to find words. She kept wanting to scream, but the only thing more embarrassing than this situation would be for Martin Stein—to say nothing of his wife—was to walk in at this moment. As she sputtered and stumbled, Mick reached over, grabbed a beer bottle at random and finished off the dregs. Caitlin could feel his hungry gaze trying to peel back the blanket from her nudity. Preserving her modesty was futile, but she found the physical barrier comforting.

This was bad, she thought. Admittedly, the past two men she had been close to had turned out to be Zoom and Dr. Alchemy, but it was not as if she had some kind of...villain fetish. Did she? She had only liked Zoom when he was pretending to be noble Jay Garrick and Julian...Julian hated the monster inside himself almost as much as he hated the monster inside Caitlin. 

Rory was more Killer Frost's style: all crude emotion and casual violence. The two of them probably got along like a house on fire...which fortunately had not been literal for the Steins. Yet, as far as Caitlin knew, Killer Frost had never...been with anyone and she had to wonder why it had to start now and why it had to be him. However, you wanted to look at it, Mick Rory—the thug, the common criminal, the proudly illiterate—was the last person Caitlin had ever imagined she would wake up next to.

Mick seemed about to say something when Professor Stein's daughter's voice carried through the doorway. Caitlin frantically searched for someplace to hide and scrambled behind the window curtain. She was not exactly curvy, but there was no way it was covering everything she wanted to hide. 

The maniacal gleam never left Mick's eyes, but a mischievous grin joined it and he spun around and marched back out of the room. Part of her watched his muscled buttocks and shoulders with more fascination than horror. There was nothing handsome or noble about him, but he was certainly very, very...masculine.

The mixture of Mick's rumbly, "Good morning," and Lily's cry of dismay jolted Caitlin into action. The window was cracked to let in fresh air and she forced it open enough to crawl through. The blanket unwrapped itself from her body as she tumbled out, but thankfully the Stein's street was empty. Pulling it through and tying it like a bath towel above her breasts, Caitlin fought to keep her panic under control. The last thing she needed was for Killer Frost to come back and just saunter down a suburb in Caitlin's birthday suit.

Or, just as likely, start killing people to steal their clothes.

Caitlin had so many questions. Not just about what happened last night but also what the hell she was going to do about it. And if there was any way, to give Killer Frost a piece of her mind. 


Unfortunately, that would have to wait until after the wedding. Caitlin kept her worries buried deep and just tried to be happy for Barry and Iris. For his part, Mick did not seem to have told anyone or even seem interested in bringing it up. He even fell asleep before the wedding started.

Even as the ceremony commenced, Caitlin found a tiny part of her mind turning over last night's mistake and uncovering a whole extra layer of concern.

What could have made Killer Frost manifest in the first place? She usually only came out when Caitlin felt strong emotion like pain or fear: primal responses that evoked an immediate and—in most cases—violent reaction from the erstwhile super villainess. Truthfully, Caitlin was getting better and better at calling her up intentionally and both sides were retaining more and more information from before the switch. Right now, all that really came across was emotion and Killer Frost, at least, was very, very pleased with last night's activities. Doubly so knowing that Caitlin would not be.

Still, she kept tumbling the possibilities for last night. From what the Legends said, Mick Rory was more or less—rather less, she assumed—reformed, but she still wondered what he could have done to make her feel scared or angry enough to let out Killer Frost. When she was trying or her inhibitions were lowered, it did not take much of an emotional spike...and yet...

As much as she worried about how she lost control, an equal part kept imagining what exactly the two of them had done last night. Caitlin had a general idea, but the particulars haunted her imagination. And to her shame, she had to admit that far more than simple disgust; they were fueled by curiosity and some small aspect of jealousy. 

It had been a long while since Ronnie had died and Caitlin's recent attempts at romance had proved less than successful. Considering both relationships had ended in kidnapping and torture by one party or the other, perhaps disastrous was a better adjective. And neither the faux-Jay or Julian had ever escalated beyond kissing and meaningful looks. Between that and spending the last year trying to repress her emotions, her sex life was non-existent. Sad as it was, Killer Frost drunkenly boinking Mick Rory of all people was the closest she had come to an orgasm in three years.

The procession started and Caitlin forced herself to focus on Barry and Iris and fixed a smile to her face. She would have time after the ceremony to sort out her feelings and figure out how to contain the fallout. Right now, she had to be a friend.

The uneasiness continued through the wedding march and the priest's invocation. It was not until actual black armored stormtroopers attacked the ceremony that all of her misgivings were washed away by the familiar panic that accompanied every super powered brawl she had ever been near. Yet, a part of her was relieved at the distraction. Finally, something to worry about other than Mick Rory and his penis.

Cisco looked at her as they crouched behind a pew and energy bolts ripped through the room. He seemed more perturbed than scared and glanced at the other super-heroes springing into action. "I think it's time to introduce these guys to your mean roommate!" he yelled and stood up just long enough to fire a vibe.

Of course, Caitlin thought, Killer Frost is the one who gets to be a superhero, the one who gets to be useful. Boring old good girl Caitlin is just here to manage her downtime. Never mind that the cool, sexy and dangerous bad girl tried to kill you all a few times last year. Just forget about the fact that it’s my body she's having her fun in. Then a pew near them exploded and she rolled her eyes and focused on her feelings, letting loose the fear and anger and resentment. Her body flushed with nervous energy and she could feel her veins crackle with icy power.

As her mind went numb, a tiny voice inside Caitlin thought, You want a killer you Nazi jerks? It’s time to see how bad I can get!


Killer Frost's eyes opened with Caitlin's final blink. As usual, things were utter chaos, with explosions, gun-shots and fist fights in the middle of a church. However, that just meant Caitlin's friends were less likely to mind if she cut loose.

One of them, Cisco, looked at her with his usual mix of resentment and relief. Of all of them, he was the one who tolerated her the least, yet it seemed was always willing to convince Caitlin to let her out. Frost knew that once the violence kicked into high gear, they would fall into an easy and familiar partnership. It was only when he did not need her help that he let it show how much he hated her for the crime of not being his darling weakling, Caitlin.

For that matter, she could taste the last vestiges of her 'better' half's confusion and anger and knew it was aimed as much at Frost herself as the attacking Nazis. Tough shit, Caity dear. You're not the only one unhappy with this relationship.

Frost looked down at the pale pink bridesmaid dress with its soft flowing shapes and muted colors. Even the underwear was quiet and understated. "Where does she get these outfits?" she growled and let the revulsion fuel her first ice blasts, which sent Nazis flying to shatter into frozen chunks.

Cisco knew better than to answer and slipped to the other aisle, blasting as he went. As the two with ranged power sets, it made sense for them to disrupt enemy formations, giving the martial artsy types a chance to take them in small groups. It also allowed for a considerable bit of carnage, although Frost imagined that Cisco did not think in those terms and would not appreciate it if he did. No one in 'Team Flash' really understood how to enjoy a good slaughter.

"Now that's more like it!" crowed someone who shared her excitement and a stream of flame licked out in parallel to her ice beam. Frost had felt that burning desire recently and it was a good sign. Their gazes met and her eyes flickered down to a stiffening in Heatwave’s suit pants. She knew that right now, Caitlin would be blushing or running away or something equally defensive and repressed. Killer Frost reveled in the attention and the carnage; her nipples hardened only partly in anticipation of the action to come. 

Heatwave began to stride from pew to pew, spraying waves of incinerating heat across their black armored foes and grinning like the madman he was. For her part, Frost earned her name by conjuring a frozen blade at the end of her arm and chopping her way down the aisle. The two of them were killing practically in tandem: a unity of purpose and means she had never felt with any of the goodie-goodie 'Team Flash.' As they calmly murdered their way toward the back of the church, Frost found herself matching his grin.

Even the presence of Firestorm did not bother her. While neither she nor Caitlin wanted to admit it, they both had loved Ronnie and neither was comfortable seeing anyone else in his place. As Mick bellowed with laughter and headbutted a stormtrooper, Frost thought, at least this burning man is all for me.

The battle finally ended when a blonde woman crashed through the wall and into the floor and the surviving Nazis retreated with some kind of flare bomb. Team Flash and their allies regrouped near the altar. Caitlin's memories of these people slowly started to fill in names and abilities, but they were not really important. Heatwave more accurately captured her feelings with a gravelly declaration of, "Best. Wedding. Ever."

As the dust settled and all the hero types argued among themselves, Frost grabbed Heatwave by the collar of his torn and singed suit. Her ambush and the strength of her metahuman body let her spin him around and pin him to the wall. He seemed surprised but grinned down at her, the smoke from his flamethrower dancing between them.

Killer Frost licked her lips and traced a hand down the buttons of his shit. The fabric was sticky with sweat, but she could still feel the muscles beneath. Her hand danced along the crotch of his pants and confirmed that his erection was as strong as she remembered. Caitlin was the demure submissive; Killer Frost knew what she wanted and grabbed it by the balls. Especially if they were as big as Heatwave's. "Ever fuck someone in a church before?" she asked with the right mix of mischief and sultriness.

His response was a guttural moan that any caveman would have been proud of. He somehow holstered his flamethrower before grabbing her by the back of the head and ass and pulling her into a crushing kiss. Human contact always felt warm to Killer Frost, but she would swear that Heatwave burned just a few degrees hotter than normal. He lifted her from the ground and she reflexively hooked a leg around his hip and pulled him tighter. His body heat was intoxicating and she could feel her nails rip through his jacket as she tried to pull him even tighter. Part of her idlily wondered if she could kill simply by draining the warmth from his body but the rest of her did not care as the fire spread from between her legs up into her chest.

Through a haze of lust she realized that now Heatwave had all the leverage; he turned and she was the one trapped against the wall. All she had to do to regain control would be to freeze his ass, but too much and it would end their tryst prematurely. Then again, one of the things they had in common was a willingness to live dangerously.

 When he finally broke the kiss by pulling back on her hair, his breath misted between his teeth and she arched an eyebrow in a lingering question.

"Not one that wasn't on fire," he chuckled and squeezed her ass. While the bridesmaid's dress was already ruined, the thought of Caitlin's face when she found a sooty handprint almost sent Frost over the edge. She leapt up to hang from Heatwave's heaving shoulders and he reflexively grabbed her thighs as his back slammed into the wall. Licking his neck left a trail of frost that evaporated almost instantly but still must have stung. His only response was a kiss that smothered her in the sheer smell and taste of him: all sweat and ash, instinct and danger. 

She pulled away, biting his lip, and his hands reflexively slipped up to pull her ass close enough to grind against the raging erection that threatened to tear through his pants. They both shifted their hips and as Heatwave squeezed her bare cheeks, she purred, "In case you didn't notice, one of today's casualties was poor Caity's granny panties."

"I like your fashion sense," Heatwave rumbled, his eyes drinking in the expanse of pale skin before him. Frost did not have much in the way of cleavage, but what she had was barely contained by a tattered neckline. Her nipples were literally ice hard and were about to cut their way free. Caitlin might dress like a librarian, but Killer Frost had the confidence to wear anything, even nothing at all.

She started grinding her hips against his waist even as his hands massaged her ass. He kneaded and spread her cheeks, his fingers occasionally slipping against her lips or brushing her asshole. The slickness between her legs was staining the bulge in his pants and it felt like his cock was going to tear free of its own accord. Killer Frost's whole body shuddered with the need to have that heat inside her. 

To her shame, a shuddering moan escaped her lips and in retaliation, she dragged her nails down his chest, tearing open the top buttons. The smooth expanse of his chest begged to be stroked and sucked and scratched. One finger drew a little blood, but that only seemed to feed the fire inside him and the mounting passion was melting what little control either of them had left.

With a feral growl, he spun her around and smothered her mouth with his, trapping her between his body and the cold stone wall. The heat of him was all around her and she feverishly tried to pull him closer and closer. His throbbing hardness pressed hard against her mound and she trembled in anticipation of having that beast inside her again.

"Mick, where the...well, fuck." 

The grinding of their bodies instantly stopped and Heatwave drew his flamethrower from between their bodies. Killer Frost still had her legs wrapped around his waist and freed one arm to attack. The telltale whine of his flamethrower charging was in perfect sync with crackle of ice forming at her fingertips, both signaling doom for their interrupter. Neither killer was particularly concerned as the scraps of their wedding outfits barely clung to their slick bodies.

Heatwave's hand snapped up at the last second to pull the barrel away from the bemused face of Sara Lance. Her own clothing was more rumpled and stained than torn and more importantly, she seemed irritatingly unconcerned at the danger aimed in her direction. It was enough to fill Killer Frost with a murderous heat all her own.

Unfortunately, while Heatwave was indubitably suffering far worse blue-balls than she was, he voiced a grumble of resignation rather than a roar of threat.

"Better be good, Boss. I'm in the middle of something here."

"I can see that." She shrugged but his posture did not relax. "We've got a prisoner and the beginning of plan. Save your wedding hook-up for after the ceremony."

He snorted in derision. "What about you screwing the skirt's sister last night?" He struggled to holster his flamethrower and after a few awkward tries, Killer Frost disentangled herself so he could manage. However, he kept her nestled in the hollow of his body and one of her hands lingered on his chest. When their eyes met, she could still see the embers of their earlier lust smoldering. "Besides, with all those do-gooders, you don't really need a pair of villains mucking up the mix."

"Seriously, Mick. There's a time and a place. The place better be somewhere else and the time is where Barry can't see you plowing Caitlin's evil twin."

Killer Frost seethed. Of course, it always comes back to Caity and her delicate sensibilities. She had just gone five or ten whole minutes without someone comparing them or worrying about how Killer Frost's actions were going to affect poor little Caity. Heatwave's passion was so totally focused that she had not even been thinking about the silly little bitch.

Sara rolled her eyes and tossed a hand-sized device at his chest. "We need you to wipe everybody's memories of dimension-hopping Nazis. Plus, the whole secret-identity thing."

"We don't have secret identities. Let one of them do it," Heatwave protested, but it was clear to Killer Frost that their moment had passed.

"She does. And technically, aren't the both of you wanted murderers who just went to a wedding full of cops?"

Heatwave glanced at Killer Frost with approval in his eyes and she felt herself blushing for the first time since they had met. "Murder one? Good on you." 

"Technically...just aggravated assault and a few accounts of attempted murder. The Flash kept stopping me." She neglected to mention that since she and Caitlin had stabilized, Caity had threatened to turn herself in for any murders that Killer Frost committed.

He shrugged. "You'll get there. You've got it in you. I can tell."

"On that note: Mick, get the hell out there and do your job. Meet us back at S.T.A.R. Labs when you're done." Sara playfully kicked and pushed Heatwave away and out the door.

"So, you and Mick, huh?" As he left the church, Sara's eyes lingered on Killer Frost in a way that was both speculative and appraising. "I guess I can see that. Besides the whole fire and ice thing, you're both irresponsible, self-destructive psychopaths."

"I'm not sure if I should be insulted." Killer Frost crossed her arms in a way that felt far more like a pout than she intended. 

"Crazy and dangerous are their own kind of sexy." Sara ran the back of her fingers down the side of Killer Frost's cheek before sliding the tips between her breasts. If her touch lacked Heatwave's intense passion, it was deft and soft, provoking a whole new series of fantasies Killer Frost had not considered. "If I already hadn't used up my wedding fling on Alex, I might have considered giving Mick a run for his money." 

She shook her head and the playful look left her eyes. "But I've already got a long list of awkward exes and you've got to worry about Caitlin. You're sharing that body and she's going to figure it out sooner or later."

A fit of giggles escaped Killer Frost's lips which turned into a grin of wicked glee. "Oh, she's already figured it out. From what I can feel, she can't tell if she should be disgusted, worried or jealous." At Sara's skeptical expression, she added, "Poor innocent little Caity is just figuring out that besides fear and anger, good old-fashioned lust triggers our transformation. I really do bring out the best in her."

Sara's stern glare of disapproval might work on the Legends, but it slid right off of Killer Frost. She seemed about to say something when Barry appeared in, well, a flash. The only sign of his anxiety was the slight hum of super speed fidgeting.

"We need Caitlin, Cisco's down."

An alien feeling crept up on Killer Frost: guilt. She and Cisco generally worked as a team, but she had gotten too caught up in the carnage. Well, that and flirting with Heatwave. Not only had she left him to get hurt, she had been oblivious after the battle to anything other than her desires. 

The unfamiliar emotion was so alien, so Caitlin, that it instantly sapped her energy and she could feel her body reverting before she even had a chance to speak. 


Caitlin sighed in relief as she dragged Harry away from Martin Stein. While he seemed to have something on his mind, the Professor was also disturbingly curious about her newfound powers. She did not want to talk about Killer Frost with anyone, but certainly not with someone who was going to see things as a scientific curiosity and not a violation of her mind and body she was still coming to grips with. She had thought that he would be a bit more understanding considering his own situation, but it dawned on her that in the case of Firestorm, he had a partnership. She just had a time-share.

At least Cisco was okay, even if she was worried about how long he was unconscious. His concussion was minor and she had developed technology to minimize the cranial trauma after the first time the villain of the week knocked one of them out. 

But Caitlin also had a selfish motivation for wanting him to wake up. Cisco could vibe her and find out what exactly had happened last night—they even had the technology to show her his vision. 

Of course, she had a rough idea of how the night ended, but she still was not sure why Killer Frost had even come out. She vaguely remembered taunting Mick at the rehearsal and she could admit that part of her had been hoping that he would harass her again and get a face full of Killer Frost. It was just her luck that it turned out that her inner villainess was more interested in a team-up with Heatwave than a showdown.

Mick himself was being no help. She had tried to corner him after he returned from whatever Sara had him doing, but he had brushed right past her, pausing only to ask where the kitchen was. Well, he did take the time to ogle her current outfit and when Mick ogled, it was obvious that he was visualizing your naked body. Which, unfortunately, he’s already seen.

While Killer Frost’s costume showed a lot more cleavage than her usual clothes, Caitlin found her cheeks burning even hotter when she realized Mick had known exactly why she had needed to change. Her bridesmaid’s dress had been one rip away from indecency and while she had remained professional during triage, it had been painfully obvious that her nipples were still aroused. Even worse, once she had a moment to herself, she had to deal with the sopping mess that was her inner thighs. Clearly Killer Frost had enjoyed more than just the fight. And Caitlin just had to deal with the aftermath and heightened sensation without any of the arousal.

Or underwear. Killer Frost preferred her pants so tight that any panties Caitlin had previously owned would have left obvious lines. She also wore bras with enough lift to make the best of Caitlin’s modest breasts. After waking up with no underwear for the third time, Caitlin had finally bought a selection of thongs and push-up bras to go with Killer Frost’s uniform. Of course, they were in shades of blue and black, in contrast to the crème and white of her own practical and comfortable underthings. It was not as if she dressed like a nun or anything, but Killer Frost still occasionally lashed out at her wardrobe.

Initially, Caitlin had found wearing Killer Frost’s clothes distracting and uncomfortable and more than a little like someone only dressing up in a costume. Then she had spent half a year working as a bartender and enforcer and had come to see Frost less as an invasive identity and more as another aspect of her personality. It was comforting to feel ready to fight and the inherent sexiness of all the tight leather did interesting things for her confidence. She had even gotten used to having her underwear pulled between her cheeks.

That thought sent tingles directly from between her legs and shivered up her spine. She was still suffering the aftereffects of Killer Frost’s arousal and it was competing with her anxiety about that event to completely unnerve her. She clamped down on all of her emotions lest her other half slip free before Caitlin had a chance to figure out what to do about whatever was going on between Killer Frost and Mick. 

As the predominant emotions she was sensing were frustration and lust, she had to assume Killer Frost planned on a repeat performance and it was obvious that Mick was a willing participant. In fact, if it was not for the fact that she had no idea what Mick had done to trigger the encounter in the first place, Caitlin was halfway toward accepting it as a forgone conclusion. At least that way, one of us will get some relief, she thought.

Immediately she brushed that aside. Do you really want to have to clean up after the sexual adventures of your evil twin and a guy who probably attacked or at least threatened you last night?

Caitlin realized she was pacing and forced herself to calm down and study Cisco’s readouts. That took a few minutes and she was starting to spiral again when Mick entered the lab. His eyes were intent and focused on her.

“Hey, I gotta ask you something.”

Relieved that he was finally going to break the ice, she responded, “Of course, how can I help?”

He held up a sandwich and asked, “Got any mustard?”


For the second time in a day, Caitlin Snow woke up on a cold surface with a headache. Things had gotten considerably worse as she was inside one of the metahuman containment cells. At least this time she had clothes.

The last thing she remembered was the archer from Earth X attacking Star Labs and Mick’s eager anticipation as she had brought out Killer Frost for the fight. Considering the light damage to her costume and her current location, it had not gone well for Team Flash.

Since awakening, she had discovered that the cells next to and below her contained Harry, Team Arrow, Mick and a recovered Cisco. Iris and Felicity had escaped, but it was unclear what had happened to the heavy-hitters when they went after the Earth X-ers. For a while Harry and Cisco sniped at each other, but hours later, everyone had settled down to nap, brainstorm, meditate or otherwise wait until they were rescued or figured out an escape.

None of their powers could breach the cells and they could only barely hear whoever was adjacent. She was between the new Black Canary and Mick Rory. Dinah had stopped periodically screaming at the door after Caitlin warned that it could actually start damaging her hearing. She was not entirely sure it was true, but even the muted cry had threatened to give Caitlin a headache.

As for Mick, she had been spending the last hour stewing in her uncertainty and trying to work up the nerve to just ask him what happened. 

She laid on the floor and hissed as loud as she dared, “Mick! Wake up!”

She belatedly recognized the sound of snoring from beneath her as it abruptly ceased. “Wa-what? I want my lawyer!” 

“Sorry. I need to talk to you.” As an afterthought, she added, “are you alright?” She was beginning to believe that his annoying tendency to deflect with rudeness and crudity was deliberate. It was best to start as friendly as she could and not let him get a rise out of her.

“Doctor lady?” Caitlin growled in resignation. If he heard, he did not care. “Not the first time I’ve been knocked out and shoved in a cell. How about you?”

She counted to three and in an as reasonable a tone as she could manage, responded, “Actually, no. Sometimes Killer Frost misbehaves and they stick her in one of these to wait it out.”

“Oh, the sexy ice girl.” Caitlin rolled her eyes at that description. “I like her.”

Of course, he does.

After taking a minute of sullen silence to regroup, Caitlin realized she was not going to get a better chance. She swallowed, listened to hear if Dinah had awoken and pushed past the wall of worry. “Mick, I really need to talk to you about Killer Frost.”

He grumbled for a moment and she thought he was going to ignore her. “I’m not going anywhere. Shoot.”

“What exactly happened last night?” she asked with all the bravery she could muster.

“Me and the other you fucked.” She fought the urge to shush him, but frankly, it was impossible to know if any else was awake or even able to listen. Besides, he would only get a perverse pleasure in raising his voice if she asked him to quiet. 

I figured that out.” Again, she attempted to be reasonable. “I suppose I should thank you for covering with Professor Stein’s family.”

“It’s okay, they made me wear a robe.” She could hear his evil grin, clearly unrepentant. He was not gloating about it, simply pleased with the fact and too jaded by past misdeeds and debauchery.

There was nothing to it but to just say it. He could be abrasive or condescending, but at least she would know. “It’s just…something usually triggers my transformation and I’m curious how you and Killer Frost even ended up together. I transform when I’m scared or feel some kind of strong emotion…”

Mick sounded genuinely confused. “Look, I know we both had a few, but you hit on me.”

That threw Caitlin further off balance and she chose her words not for delicacy but clarity. “No. I imagine Killer Frost is very…direct. But I’m trying to figure out what you did to bring her out.”

“Lady, listen. I didn't do anything.” He let loose a throaty chuckle laced with innuendo. “Well…I did something...but you started everything long before she showed up.”

The ball of anxiety inside her stomach took a new and disturbing turn and Caitlin started to sputter but he just carried on. “You came up to me at the end of the night and threatened to kidnap me. I laughed it off but once you started grabbing my…collar—” Caitlin did not want to even think about the word he had been about to say, “—I wasn’t going to argue. Besides, they closed the bar.” 

Was she mistaken in hearing the tiniest bit of embarrassment in his voice? Or was it just wishful thinking? Or was she just trying to distract her mind from the obvious conclusion?

“You didn’t want to go to your place so we took a cab back to the Professor’s.” Caitlin’s mind gave up any attempt at rationalizing and she could only listen in mortified fascination. “And, well, you got real handsy on the ride. Kept saying stuff about how long it had been since ‘Robbie’ and comparing sizes. Of course, I never had a complaint in that department, you know.

“I’m always the kind of guy that gives as good as he gets and we were really heating up the back seat of that cab.” Caitlin noted in some tiny corner of her horrified mind that once he started telling a story, Mick’s voice lost much of its abrasiveness. “I think the driver was upset you were sitting in my lap but I wasn’t going to complain. And, heck, he got a free show out of the deal.” And at that point, Caitlin realized she could, in fact, be even more embarrassed.

“By the time we got out of the cab, my shirt was ripped open and your skirt was rolled halfway up. The whole trip, you had been nursing one beer and mostly spilled half of it on me. You took mine and finished it off before bending over the couch. You demanded I unzip you and between the two of us, we wriggled you out of the dress. And then you did one of the fucking sexiest things I’ve ever seen and flashed me a smile over your shoulder and told me ‘Just rip them off. They’re not going to survive the night anyways. Hurry, she’s almost here.’”

Caitlin knew what was coming next and part of her wanted to cut him off but Mick was an oddly enchanting storyteller. “I wasn’t going to argue and your panties were so soaked, they snapped after one pull. You almost screamed when I pulled the tatters from between your thighs. Then, I kissed my way from your back to your tailbone and then pushed you further over the sofa. I paused for a second to squeeze your cute little ass and spread those rosy cheeks of yours. Those delicate flowery folds were swollen and ready for some hard pollinating. I gave you a long slow lick from clit to pucker before diving in. You were so worked up at this point that I could only hear muted moaning from the sofa cushion you had buried your face into.

“You came quickly, but after the first shudder, your juices got icy cold and your whole body grew even paler throughout the aftershocks. I even had a real close view of your bush turning silvery white. I stood there, with my dick fighting its way through my fly as you just became this whole other person. And boy was she pleased to see me.”

At this point, Caitlin could no longer hide from the obvious truth. There was no way Mick Rory, of all people, would make up a lie this complex. One did not need Occam’s Razor to realize that it was more than just fear that could trigger Killer Frost. Clearly, arousal would also suffice. And more shocking than the concession that Mick had done nothing to provoke her, was the realization that the part of Killer Frost that was attracted to Mick was also a part of Caitlin. She gave herself a winsome smile and thought, Maybe I do have a villain fetish. Or just a fire guy fetish.

What was even worse was that she was honest enough to admit that she must have known the truth all along and that some part of her was jealous of Killer Frost. After all, if arousal was a trigger…it explained why Caitlin had not had an orgasm in years. She quite simply could not get in the mindset without becoming someone else. No wonder she had been so bitter about this; her subconscious must have been lashing out in frustration.

The thought of being frigid for the rest of her life while her evil twin reaped all the benefits would have been depressing, if it was not for the shocking fact that Mick Rory’s deep and raspy voice and the contents of his tale were having an effect upon her. While she did not need to hear any more, she could not escape and the story had her as turned on as she was mortified. 

She realized Mick had fallen silent and she slowly unzipped Killer Frost’s jacket. As she slid further down the wall, she began to run her fingers over the tight, dark leather that covered the inside of her thighs. It would be nice to think of it as testing a hypothesis, but knew this was just more justification. The empty ache she had been ignoring inside her did not care about unleashing Killer Frost or the fact that she was exposed before a clear cell door. Shame and consequences crumbled before the desperate truth that she needed this.

Then she whispered, her voice coming out huskier and hungrier than she had intended, “And then what happened? What did she do to you?”

Again, there was an audible smile in the pause before Mick resumed his story; his voice was quieter but even more intense. “She spun around and tackled me into a bookshelf. Her hands were all over, pulling away the remnants of my shirt and tearing open my pants. I couldn’t get a word out; her kisses were cold and hungry, almost like she was trying to suck the life out of me. She loved to rub her cute little tits against my chest and they were so sensitive that every time I managed to catch a nipple, she shuddered and redoubled her efforts.”

Caitlin was having first-hand experience with that sensitivity. One of her breasts was out of Killer Frost’s top and her fingertip circled the areola before centering on that aching nub. Her nipples were always a little hard in the chill that preceded or followed Killer Frost, but right now, it was like a dainty little spike that pierced through her fingers. Pleasure rippled through the rest of her body every time she squeezed or stroked. It was all she could do to fight back the little sounds of passion that kept trying to slip from between her lips. Her frustration was growing with the imperfect transfer of sensation through the tight crotch of the leather pants. It felt fantastic, but she wanted more. 

 “When her hand found my shaft, her eyes literally flashed with excitement and her wicked smile nearly set me off right there and then. Her fingernails traced my length and teased my head, and every time I told her I was about to cum, she squeezed my balls with her chilly fingers and put her other hand to my mouth. ‘Oh no, I want you ready to explode,’ she whispered in that weird voice.”

At that point, Caitlin had flipped over onto her stomach and was desperately rolling the leather pants down as fast and as quietly as she could. They were so tight that they dragged the dark blue thong with them and she almost cried as the cool air of the cell hit the heat of her labia. She bit into the tough material of Killer Frost’s jacket to muffle the moan. 

Caitlin glanced at her faint reflection in the glass of the cell door. Her hair was wild and tangled around her sweating face and her eyes were almost lost in the lust-filled haze that she could feel pressing on her self-control. One hand had a death grip on the jacket she was still panting into and the other was frantically trying to tug her pants further down her hips. Her efforts kept pushing her ass higher into the air and it was shaking in anticipation. Or jealous of the pounding that Killer Frost was about to receive. Or had received. Whatever. If there had been a ready and willing penis in the cell, Caitlin was not sure she could have resisted. 

Never had she seen herself less composed or more feral. It just goes to show that I should have realized that Killer Frost got her libido from me. Now that she finally had access to her pussy, she dispensed with foreplay and began masturbating in earnest. Come on, Mick, she thought so loudly it could have been a whisper, Stop playing and fuck the evil bitch. 

 “I wasn’t going down without a fight, but in the end, all I could do was return the favor. I pulled her tight and smothered her lips with mine, as if I could overwhelm her with my body heat. My other hand found her pert ass fit perfectly within my grip and I massaged from cheek to cheek. Every now and then I pulled her high enough for my dick to slid between her sopping thighs, but she was always nimble enough to guide me away from penetration. By then, I was primed to fire the moment that she let me go.”

Mick had to know what she was doing—what he was doing to her—but it was very important to what was left of her pride that neither one of them acknowledged that. Although, if this kept going, she was going to lose whatever scraps of her dignity she had held onto. This time she was willing to risk becoming a monster not because she needed Killer Frost but because it just felt too good. 

Already she could feel the crackling energy of Killer Frost flicker inside her, but she pushed that thought aside and revelled in her current wantonness. That her impending transformation had become a fact did not bother her as much as the idea of ripping every scrap of indulgent pleasure from her body with no care for the consequences. Even the fear of being caught by one of her friends had become intoxicating once liberated from shame.

Is this what she feels like all the time?

Oblivious or not, Mick’s narration was more like erotica than a jerk bragging about a conquest and his steady, deep tone had Caitlin trapped within her unleashed libido. 

“Finally, she pulled free and I realized that she had to be much stronger than she looked. She practically inhaled my cock and well, I don’t think you’ve ever gotten a blowjob with an ice cube, but this was like that times a hundred. Even if I wanted to hold back, I couldn’t. Within a few seconds, she had me coming like a fire hose. She had been priming me for what felt like hours and I don’t know that I’ve ever came like that before. I instinctively reached for her head, but she deftly brushed my hands aside and steadily pushed my chest back into and through the shelf behind me. That Frost girl never even flinched; she swallowed everything I gave her and pulled back with a smile.

“’Oh, big guy, we’re going until you can’t walk any more. Now let’s get ready for round two,’ she said half as a threat and more as a promise. And she started the whole thing all over again, stroking and sucking and smiling until I was even harder than before. And this time, she let me talk dirty and she responded in kind, her hand working between her legs.

“I can’t understate what that cocky, sexy and hungry little smirk does to a man. She was in control…but not in control of me. More than anything else, she exuded this direct and honest desire that made you afraid to disappoint her. I wasn’t scared, but I’ll never back down from a challenge like that.”

There was a pause but Caitlin was too far gone to wonder if it was for dramatic effect or some other reason. She just knew that if Mick stopped here, she would not be able to keep from screaming some pathetic protest. Killer Frost was dancing on the edge of her psyche and she needed to make the build-up last as long as she could. As much as both personalities wanted this, that sweet release would belong to Killer Frost and Caitlin did not want to share. She had gotten skilled at controlling her emotions, but she did not have the strength to clamp down and deny them this moment. It had been too long and they—she—needed this too much.

“It was obvious that she was done playing. There was no more teasing and those cold eyes of hers were empty of anything like restraint. The moment—the very second—I was hard enough, she hopped up on the back of the couch. She spread herself out and it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. That impossibly pale skin deepened to almost a shade of purple at her folds, but once her nether lips opened, she was as pink and ready as any woman. She was so wet that her white pubes had become a pearlescent silver.

“I positioned myself between her legs and held my rigid manhood in hand. Turnabout is fair play and rather than insert it, I stroked it slowly along the top of her sex. She shuddered and cursed at me; I might have imagined it, but I think her nails punched holes in the sofa cushions. She was half-way through a death threat when I started to slide inside her. Her words choked off and her back arched in pleasure before she threw herself forward and into my arms.”

At that, Caitlin added a third finger to the two that were already buried inside her. With every thrust, her thumb pushed harder against her clit. Her other hand stroked the back of her thigh and massaged her butt. She knew her hips had to be thrusting into the air, driving part of her face into the cool glass—which only seemed to grow warmer. It was possible she was painting like a slut, but she was so close, she did not care. She could feel her hair start to lose its color and knew that the end was on its way. 

“Her insides were not any warmer than the rest of her, but I always burn hot and that night I was her match. She bounced in my arms and I pounded into her hips as we careened around the room. At some point I had her laid out on a coffee table and worked over her breasts. Her nails never quite scratched me but kept sliding over my muscles, looking for a purchase.

“I’m not sure how many times she came, but It took me a while to work up to a second shot. With every orgasm, she seemed to squeeze me tighter and she devolved into incoherent cursing. Finally, we ended up kneeling on the floor and I was doing my best to drive her into the ground as I could feel the tension build in my balls. My hands were holding on to her hips for dear life and hers were buried between our legs, stroking both our parts. Sensing the end, I leaned over her and cupped her cute little tits. 

“She squealed and turned to lock eyes over her shoulder. That fucking intoxicating smirk of hers almost made me cum by itself. Its hard to tell with that weird voice of hers, but she sounded husky and a little desperate when she sighed, ‘Step it up a notch, fella. I feel a big one coming.’ I wasn’t going to argue and we began bucking with renewed urgency. I had one hand in her hair and the other between her legs as I felt my body pass the point of no return. Getting closer and closer, my thrusts became more frantic. As I reached my climax, I fell over onto my back and pulled her into the air. She kept twisting her hips as I shuddered and released inside her, riding my convulsions toward her own end. Before I could start to soften inside her, she pushed herself over the edge and screamed—.”

Caitlin felt the change begin even as she built toward her climax. Killer Frost was cumming and it was all she could do to try and climax in the seconds before she faded. Her legs twisted inside the trap of her pants and she rolled onto her back. Both hands dug deeper between her legs as she continued to thrust her pussy into the air as the desperate rush toward—


Caitlin’s eyes snapped open and the sudden shock ripped her away from the cusp of orgasm. Her eyes flashed silver once and then faded to brown, her hair soon following. Every one of her muscles felt twisted and snapped after such a buildup collapsed onto itself. “Sweet fucking fuck fu—” The haunted cry that escaped her lips was lost in the rest of the announcement.


The lingering impulse to continue vanished into panic as every cell door unlocked as one. The very real threat of being caught ridden hard forced Caitlin to put herself away wet. She pulled her pants up quickly and shoved her breast back inside Killer Frost’s top. Picking up the jacket she hoped her mussed hair and general disarray would be excused by the close quarters. Hopefully she could find a moment alone to untangle Frost’s thong, but from the sound of it, things were as chaotic as usual.

She forced herself to leave the cell and to her relief nobody was looking at her strangely or even noticeably avoided her. They were oblivious to what had gone on between Mick and her; moreover, they had to thank the Legends for their timely arrival. Whatever was about to happen, she could sense that Killer Frost and she were of like minds: frustrated and planning to take it out on the Nazi invaders. 

But first, she had to deal with Mick Rory. At the very least, she owed him an apology. What she really should do was to explain how tangled up her emotions currently were. While she could not actually stop him or Killer Frost from doing what they wanted, she really needed some time to figure out her feelings before surrendering her body to whatever sexual Olympics the super-villains had planned.

“Mr. Rory—Mick?” He was grinning like a madman, all of his recent sensitivity and sensuality discarded by the promise of impending carnage. Still, Caitlin hoped he would not brush her off. “I think, that is, I should…I mean to say…” 

“That was right.” When she blinked in confusion, his toothy grin set her to blushing. “How’d you know that’s what she said?”

Before she recovered, he spun around and bellowed, “I knew I could count on you, Pretty!” She could only stare in a frazzled mix of confusion, rejection and irritation. “Did you bring beers?”

Caitlin swallowed whatever thoughts or feelings she had been about to voice and put back on her professional composure. It was time to go be a hero. 


Things had gone from bad to worse. They had driven the Earth X-ers from Star Labs, but Martin Stein was dead. Her final link to Ronnie—gone and there had been nothing she could do to save him. The others were grieving and planning a counterattack, but Caitlin was truly and utterly alone. The pain and loss had even driven Killer Frost to the deepest recesses of her mind. 

She kept up her mask while Cisco was around, but she had snuck away to quietly break down in one of the Waverider’s unused cabins.

The tears came easy, but their source was a tangled confusion of grief, stress, shame and simple self-pity. More than just the father figure—or at least, a nerdy uncle—Martin had been to the others, he had been her last physical connection to Ronnie. And to the woman she had been before she shut herself away.

After Ronnie’s death, she had refused to deal with it, simply bottling it all up behind the careful façade her mother had trained into her. She had been drawn to emotionally unavailable, distant men she knew would never be able to get her to open up. Just going through the motions, she had never truly moved on. All the pain she had suffered, all the love, spite and fear had become fuel for Killer Frost, and the frozen knot she formed around her heart only helped her to rein the monster in.

And now, without Martin to remind her and with all her hidden thoughts running amok in tight leather and silver hair, she could not hide anymore. Ronnie was dead and she was not, no matter how she tried to keep from living. Even now, she was wallowing in self-pity while everyone else worked to comfort one another and to save the world.

Whatever he would have thought of her evil twin, Ronnie would have been disappointed in Caitlin herself. He always pushed her to be honest and ambitious: to be happy for herself. Somehow she had let that part of herself slip away and Killer Frost had claimed it as her own.

For all she tried to rationalize her way through her grief toward the clarity of the other side, she kept dragging herself back in. These feelings were running loose no matter how hard she tried to bottle them up. She could go out there until she had this back under control.

Caitlin cut off a sob as she heard someone approach down the Waverider’s hallway. She tried to compose herself: she could not bear to let one of the literally dozens of super-heroes walking around see her break down. They would be looking for Killer Frost, not sad little Caitlin Snow.

And of course, it was not a superhero that found her, but a villain. Heatwave was quite possibly the last person she wanted to see right now. He brought out the worst in her even when she was not Killer Frost. He had an undeniable talent for simple rudeness and selfishness and she had no patience left for him. Not today, not after all that had happened and not after all the times he refused to sit down and talk with her.

She looked up at him and anger burned through the tears in her eyes. The shadow of Killer Frost was there, but Caitlin kept her at bay. It was easy to think that they needed her at full strength when the fighting came, but Caitlin was doing her best to separate the two supervillains. “What do you want? She’s not here.”

Mick just stood there, his shoulders slumped and his features clouded with something more than his usual misplaced malevolence. The doctor part of her had a momentary urge to reach out with compassion, but the jaded, lonely woman inside stomped it down. If anyone deserved her spite, it was Mick Rory.

“Needed to get away from that goodie-two-shoes in a parka,” he muttered and leaned against the opposite wall from which she sat.

She turned a sniffle into a sneer. “Really? Someone can actually make you feel uncomfortable?”

He ignored her and stared at the bulkhead. “He looks like Snart, but he’s not.”

Caitlin did not even try to restrain her harsh, mocking laughter. “That never seemed to bother you with Killer Frost.” She gestured at her current costume. “Or didn’t you think about its my body your little ultraviolent sex-cicle is running around in?”

“You weren’t using it.” She sputtered and protested, but Mick did not seem to hear. “Snart was…he was the only…nobody else…he died. Like everyone else, he died. And now this joker pops up and I know it’s not him, but it reminds me of him.”

Finally, he looked at her and she wanted to believe there was something human in his wooden face. “And the Professor’s dead, too. Hurts, doesn't it?” Caitlin could only nod. “Take it, save it. Let it cool down to embers inside of you. But when you need it? Bring it out, let it burst into flame.” This time, there was no mistaking the raw pain and violence he held in his voice. “And you use it. Make them burn.”

Caitlin realized he had a point and came to a decision. There was no point in simply locking away a weapon as powerful as her feelings and it was impossible to deny they existed. Maybe it was the grief, or the rollercoaster of emotions from the last day, but she just did not care anymore about pretending. Let the world see how she felt.

She stood up and walked up to place a hand on Mick’s chest. His muscles tensed at her touch and she felt a perverse pleasure at finally discomforting this maniac. “You’re right. I’m tired of pretending, I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of feelings that I can’t control. So, I won’t.”

Her hand slid up to cup his stubbly chin and the other followed to hold his cheek. The confusion on his face faded quickly as she pulled him into a kiss. It was not really a good kiss, it was too desperate and slobbery and her face was still damp with tears. But it was something they both needed. While she did not have Killer Frost’s strength, Mick did not fight as she broke the embrace.

“You got one thing wrong though.” She shuddered as she reached inside and welcomed the change she needed right now. The icy power was normally terrifying, but today she longed for that numbness. “They’re not going to burn. They’re going to freeze.”

Then the world went white as she let her world break.


Killer Frost found herself in Heatwave’s arms which was not unpleasant. More importantly, she could actually remember Caitlin’s thoughts and experiences from the past few hours. They were murky, but for the first time, she had context beyond the normal pain and fear in the moment.

So, she knew how she came to be here and realized she probably had a much clearer idea of what was going on inside Caity’s head that the good doctor did herself. She also found that they were in perfect agreement about the fate of the men that murdered Martin Stein. 

And as much as Caity would never admit it, she had also given her blessing to what Killer Frost was about to do right now.

She was still in Heatwave’s arms and knew that he was staggered by Caity’s unexpected aggression. Killer Frost pressed in on that advantage and resumed the kiss. Whatever could be said about Mick Rory, he made up his mind quickly. Her icy blue lips attacked his mouth even as he smothered her in the heat of his embrace. This was no battle for dominance, just two elemental forces refusing to back down. And no small part of her wanted to annihilate any comparisons to his last kiss from needy little Caity.

When he finally broke away, she drew his lower lip through her teeth, trying to draw one more second from that moment. Heatwave was panting—either out of breath or patience—and both their mouths trailed fog from the clash of temperatures.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he growled; his husky tones set Killer Frost’s pussy aquiver. “The doctor girl just wanted to talk.” 

She could now remember that Caitlin had gotten Heatwave himself to open up in the past few minutes. Whatever fragmentary connection they may have touched, Killer Frost understood Mick in a way Caity never would. Beneath the rough and careless surface was a man who lived according to his passions. The few things he cared about he did so with an unyielding commitment and focus. It was what made him obsessive and dangerous, but also a phenomenal lover.

“She doesn’t know what she wants.” This was the first private moment they had stolen since the church and Frost did not want to waste time. She unbuckled her belt and opened her zipper to reveal a flash of white fuzz. Apparently, Caity had given up on her tangled and sticky thong. She did not mind; they were in a hurry. “I do. And I know how to do more than talk.”

“The big fight is soon and neither of us wants to miss that.” He grinned and unzipped his fly, his rapidly stiffening cock just beginning to peek out. He took it in hand and began to stroke its length in preparation. 

Killer Frost realized that this time she did not have the advantage of Caitlin stewing in her own juices before transforming. Most times, the intensity of a super-hero battle was enough to get her motor running—after most of Team Flash’s battles, she found the time to masturbate before turning back into Caitlin. Her pussy was not exactly a desert, but neither of them was in the mood for foreplay.

Once her pants were around her knees, she licked her fingers and started to stroke her lips and bush. Her eyes never left Heatwave’s hardening cock. In daylight, its bulbous head was an angry red and she could see the throbbing veins begin to stand out as he worked it over. His shaven balls wobbled with each stroke and she wished she had time to play with them. Realizing she was wet enough, she looked up and saw he was staring at her with equal intensity. 

“Better make it quick then,” she said and bent over a nearby crate and slapped her ass playfully. Then she spread herself to present too tempting a target to ignore. Heatwave let loose a low, hungry growl which sent a thrill down her spine and caused her to wiggle her ass in anticipation. 

At first, she was disappointed when Heatwave missed penetrating her dripping pussy. Instead he dragged that throbbing club he called a cock along the crevice of her ass. The sheer heat of his member against her body arched her back in pleasure. While her nipples were incredibly sensitive, Caity and she both enjoyed attention paid to their ass—even receiving the occasional spanking from Ronnie. As much as she preferred to be the teaser rather than the teased, the anticipation was enough to grow the trickle between her legs into a flood. 

It felt like he spent an eternity rubbing himself across her backside and Killer Frost was afraid he was going to waste his load on her back. Not entirely an unpleasant idea, but she wanted to feel that spurt of warmth inside of her. Just when she was about to spur him on, Heatwave adjusted his aim and split her thighs and ran the length of her lips. That simple effort soaked his cock so that his next stroke slid slowly but easily into her folds.

He was wider than anything Caitlin had had inside her pussy and Killer Frost loved that slight stretch of passing Caity’s limits. Even better, his body heat energized her, as if a shaft of raw excitement was piercing its way to her core. She pushed back into his hips to swallow him inside her and she could not tell which of them moaned louder.

Heatwave’s hands replaced hers, holding tight to her soft ass and hips. He quickly picked up the pace, his grunts in time with each thrust. Soon, she had hold tight to the crate as her smaller body recoiled from his efforts, her moans competing for volume and intensity. Caity would have been horrified to see them rutting like this, but she would have been bruised by a pace Frost only found exhilarating.

He continued to manhandle her ass, his thick and calloused fingers squeezing and stroking even as they held her tight. She imagined that he was enjoying the view of her pale moons spread before him and his massive cock impaling her delicate-looking pussy. Maybe soon she could have him record it so that she could see for herself. Or maybe just use it to embarrass Caity.

Then one of his thumbs worked its way between her cheeks and grazed her asshole. Frost was so trapped in the build-up that she could not keep a shocked squeak from escaping her mouth. As it slowly rubbed circles around her rosebud, she was forced to bite her lip to silence further embarrassment. The sensations were enticing, but not as much as their taboo nature. Neither she nor Caitlin had ever had anything in their ass and she normally thrived on doing the things that Caity would not dare to. 

Yet, it seemed inherently submissive—a role far more suited to Frost’s other half—and she was slightly ashamed at how tempted she was. The kind of shame that might bring Caity back out. As amusing as that would be, it would also rob Frost of the orgasm she was rapidly approaching and could conceivably derail Caitlin’s acceptance of Heatwave.

She shook off her confusion and hissed back at him, “No.” A breath later, “…maybe another time,” snuck out between clenched teeth.

His thumb lingered for a second before retreating to a safe distance and he did not even have the decency to look ashamed. Instead his eyes were filled with a frank appraisal and unrelenting desire. “Can’t blame me for trying,” he rasped out between panting breaths. “Your ass is so amazing, I couldn’t resist.”

Frost felt herself flush at the compliment and then pushed that asset back into his hips. Regaining some control, she set the pace as she pushed them toward the end. “Stay focused, brute. We have Nazis to kill.”

The thought of the impending carnage set them both to task. It had become a race, all subtlety and conversation abandoned as each worked toward their orgasm. While she had no idea what Heatwave was envisioning, Killer Frost found the idea of lashing out with all of her power and lethality just as exciting as the engorged arsonist trying to pound her hips into ice-cubes. Images of all the devastation they could unleash together danced with dreams of further erotic adventures.

She loved to push Caity’s buttons and her own thresholds. Poor innocent Caity was wasting this hot little body and Killer Frost knew Heatwave would be a perfect partner in crime. He would certainly be down with public sex or going to a strip-club. She imagined tying him up and teasing him, or having her way with some needy little super-slut in front of him. Or the two of them sharing her. For that matter, it was unfortunate that Heatwave did not like this new Snart. She could think of several fantasies with the two of them. Maybe, just maybe, if he was a good boy, she would even let him have her ass.

And the final thought that pushed her over the edge was just how much it was going to drive Caitlin crazy. Not just the fact that she would be embarrassed by what Frost had done and who with, or even that she herself was denied such pleasure. It was that now Caity knew that all that debauchery came from within her. The only difference was that she lacked the courage to act on it. Sad, desperately horny and uptight Caity was going to have to realize just how dirty a slut she wanted to be.

An orgasm ripped through her with enough force that Heatwave grabbed her by the hair and pinned her in place. His own pace never slacked as he rode out the convulsions that wracked her body. Half-garbled obscenities tumbled from her lips and she felt the metal crate buckle beneath her fingernails. Even as she regained her senses, Heatwave continued to rock her hips until a handful of strokes later, he buried himself up to his balls and erupted inside her.

She was wrapped in the oppressive heat and weight of Heatwave’s body as he slumped over her. They lay crumpled on top of the storage crate, each trembling and panting for a moment. Then Heatwave fell backward, his softening penis sliding gently from her pussy. Frost savored that moment, confident that this was only the beginning.

She rolled over, her ass threatening to stick to the metal of the crate as their sweat began to freeze. Heatwave looked even more of a mess than usual, with his shirt stained with the effort of their sex and his pants tangled around his ankles. Yet, as he looked up from his cock, she could see that he was as excited and eager as she was. He had not come close to working out all of his stress and rage upon her body and would have no problem taking out the remainder on their enemies. Their eyes locked and it was clear his thoughts mirrored her own.

“So, now what?”

Killer Frost dipped her fingers inside her pussy and scooped out some of his spunk before it could freeze. Licking the mix of his and her own flavors, she smiled in anticipation. “I guess we go be heroes.”

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