Drabbletag - Phone Sex
Title: Operative
Prompt: Drabbletag 5 - Phone Sex
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Barbara/Dinah
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 250
“Have I ever told you how good you look when you’re punching bad guys in the face?”
Dinah grins, ducking under a roundhouse that’s embarrassingly sloppy. Honestly, slamming the guy into the ground is doing him a favour.
“Well, if it looks half as good as it feels…” She trails off, taking the last henchman out just as sirens begin to wail in the distance.
Barbara’s voice chuckles in her ear, rich and dirty. Dinah gives a wink to the nearest surveillance camera, and then she’s up and moving, heading across the rooftops that line the docks. Jumping and rolling until the buildings start to look more rundown, until they’re mostly empty and abandoned, grimy Gotham air whipping through her hair.
“Where next, Oracle?” she asks, muscles warm from the run, ready for her next target.
“You’ve got forty minutes until rendezvous with Huntress,” Barbara says, and Dinah can hear her smirk, even if she can’t see it.
“Oh my, however shall I pass the time?” she teases, letting her voice flutter breathily and, oooh, that gets her another of those filthy little laughs.
The com-link is crystal clear, which means Dinah can hear the wetness of Barbara’s smile. “I have a few ideas,” she murmurs, and Dinah’s hands are already sliding down over her stomach, fingernails scratching herself through the uniform just the way Barbara would if she were there.
Of all Oracle’s orders, Dinah’s favourite is always going to be that husky voice whispering, “Touch yourself for me.”
Prompt: Drabbletag 5 - Phone Sex
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Barbara/Dinah
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 250
“Have I ever told you how good you look when you’re punching bad guys in the face?”
Dinah grins, ducking under a roundhouse that’s embarrassingly sloppy. Honestly, slamming the guy into the ground is doing him a favour.
“Well, if it looks half as good as it feels…” She trails off, taking the last henchman out just as sirens begin to wail in the distance.
Barbara’s voice chuckles in her ear, rich and dirty. Dinah gives a wink to the nearest surveillance camera, and then she’s up and moving, heading across the rooftops that line the docks. Jumping and rolling until the buildings start to look more rundown, until they’re mostly empty and abandoned, grimy Gotham air whipping through her hair.
“Where next, Oracle?” she asks, muscles warm from the run, ready for her next target.
“You’ve got forty minutes until rendezvous with Huntress,” Barbara says, and Dinah can hear her smirk, even if she can’t see it.
“Oh my, however shall I pass the time?” she teases, letting her voice flutter breathily and, oooh, that gets her another of those filthy little laughs.
The com-link is crystal clear, which means Dinah can hear the wetness of Barbara’s smile. “I have a few ideas,” she murmurs, and Dinah’s hands are already sliding down over her stomach, fingernails scratching herself through the uniform just the way Barbara would if she were there.
Of all Oracle’s orders, Dinah’s favourite is always going to be that husky voice whispering, “Touch yourself for me.”