CallMeLieutennant



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    "Your identity was supposed to be a secret. Not only to protect yourself (and probably least importantly yourself) but others. Your family, your friends. Everyone who stood a chance at being ripped apart by your decision to go out there everyday and put yourself in the crossfire.

    Not that Bruce had anyone to protect, besides Alfred. But it was still a fucking given."

    Or: Bruce has been Batman for two years and if he knew anything, it was that when you don a mask, you don it for a reason. An important reason that just doesn't seem to be as important to the rest of the League as it is to him. This is going to be a story about Bruce being coaxed into allowing others behind his carefully built walls. (Specifically one person.)

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    26 Jun 2026

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  2. Rec *

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    "My name is… You, me, and a bed?" Bruce murmurs as he leans in. "Unless you're taken?"

    The flush that blooms across Kent's cheeks is delicious. His laugh is quiet, warm, disarmingly human for a man who could bench-press a freight train.

    "No. I'm… single. Broke up a few months ago and since then I've kind of been… you know."

    The softness in Kent's tone coaxes a quiet smile from Bruce. He almost feels guilty for offering something so filthy and impulsive. Almost. But Kent's pupils are already wide, dark with interest. His body betrays whatever hesitation might still live in his mind.

    "Must get lonely," Bruce whispers, his mouth brushing close to Kent's ear.

     

    (Or, Bruce is undercover when he crosses paths with Clark Kent. Sleeping with him wasn't exactly part of the mission… but honestly, have you seen those dimples?)

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    25 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “Ilya Rozanov came out to you as bisexual earlier this year,” Harris said, like he was trying to make sure he got his facts straight. “And you didn’t mention it to your boyfriend.”

    “I couldn’t just out him,” Troy said. “Also you weren’t my boyfriend yet. And I had a lot going on, okay?”

    Harris stared.

    “And he sort of told me about…?” Troy said, gesturing at the phone. “I mean, I sort of asked, and he didn’t say that it wasn’t, uh, happening. I don’t know. I guess I forgot about it.”

    Harris flopped backward on the bed, both hands over his face.

    “How,” he said. “Did you forget.”

     

    A very fluffy fic in which Harris Drover is all of us. Takes place toward the end of The Long Game & has MAJOR spoilers for that book.

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    19 Jun 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Tbr

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane and Ilya go on their first road trip as teammates

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    19 Jun 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Tbr

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya’s hand wraps around his bare wrist and squeezes. Shane barely stops himself from collapsing to his knees.

    The pressure lights up every receptor of his touch-starved nervous system, wrenching a small, pained noise from the back of his throat. Every muted sensation comes flooding back so intensely that it almost hurts. He needs Ilya to hold him down until there’s nothing inside him but quiet. He wants to sink into him and disappear.

    It takes Shane an entire beat to remember where they are. Fighting against the fog in his mind, he manages to drag his gaze up to meet Ilya’s.

    There’s a slow-dawning horror and understanding on Ilya’s face.

    *

    Or: Shane is in subdrop after their encounter in Vegas. Ilya fixes it.

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    19 Jun 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Tbr