staticnight

[staticnight]

remembered my password #bless

[staticnight]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA i've been watching the walking dead AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[staticnight]

The Boy at the Gala - Bruce Wayne x Male!Reader

This took me ages to do. I've been absolutely swamped lately (plus a lot of unrelated procrastination). This kind of sucks, the pacing is off, and I'm overall not a huge fan of it, but I figured I would just get something out and work on something better rather than worry about it.

pairing: Bruce Wayne x Male Reader genre: fluff? meet cute I guess word count: 1.6K

   You’d never been to a gala before. You’d never even been to a really nice house party. In fact, you haven’t been to many parties at all. Certainly, you weren’t supposed to have been invited to Bruce Wayne’s gala, it must have been a mistake.

   But whatever, you got an invitation - and who were you to decline an opportunity to meet Bruce Wayne? You bought the nicest suit you could reasonably afford, and you headed out. 

   You took a breath, taking a moment to prepare before opening the large doors to Wayne Manor. The large entrance room was full of people mingling, in fancy gowns and suits, drinking expensive wines and spirits. You felt very out of place.

   As you walked through the room, nobody spared you a glance, too busy with whatever it was they were doing. You looked around the room, at the high ceilings and the marble pillars as you moved. How could anybody actually live here?

   You were so distracted by the fact that you were in Wayne Manor, that you failed to notice the large man you were about to walk right into. You stepped on the back of his heel, bringing you back to Earth. 

   “Oh, shit!” You stumble backwards, bumping into another person doing so. The man turns around, looking at you. “Are you alright?” He asks, concerned. You nod and look up at him - your jaw drops a little. Bruce Wayne. The man you bumped into was Bruce Fucking Wayne. 

   After looking at him flabbergasted for a moment, you compose yourself. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, nodding. He nods in return, his eyes drifting to your shoulder.

   “You got some wine on your suit,” he points out, to which your eyes widen. “Fuck,” you mutter, looking at the slight red stain on your shoulder. Your suit is black, so the stain isn’t obvious, but you spent way too much money on this suit to get a wine stain on it.

   Bruce takes a small cloth out of his chest pocket. He raises his hand in the air, calling over a waitstaff. After a moment, the waitstaff arrives, carrying a tray with various shot glasses and a jug of water.

   Bruce presses the cloth on the rim of the jug and turns it upside-down for a brief moment. He then brings it to your shoulder, wiping off the wine. The damp cloth is cold, even through the suit jacket. Even worse than that, Bruce had gotten rather close to you to do this, and you can feel his breath on your neck. Trying your best to ignore it, you bite on the inside of your lip. After what felt like forever, Bruce’s eyes met yours, only for a moment, before he pulled away.

   “I got most of it off,” he says kindly, folding up the cloth and throwing it onto the table behind him. “Your shoulder is damp now though,” he frowns.

   “It’s fine…” you touch your shoulder lightly; it’s a lot wetter than you thought it was. Bruce seems to think for a moment. “Maybe you should take your jacket off for now?” He suggests, his eyes meeting yours again. You think his face is a bit pink, but it’s hard to tell in the dim light. Perhaps you’re projecting, because God knows your own cheeks are starting to burn.

   You remove your jacket, holding it awkwardly. You can’t just tie a suit around your waist, right? There’s a strange silence between you for a few moments before Bruce’s expression quickly shifts. 

   “I forgot to ask your name,” he says, a hint of embarrassment in his voice and face. “Oh, uh,” you hesitate. Does he know the names of his guest list? You aren’t rich, or famous, or related to anybody rich or famous. “My name’s [Name]. I got an invitation,” you respond, adding the last sentence quickly. Which you realised just as quickly was a weird thing to say.

   Bruce gives you a strange look, but only for a second. “Bruce Wayne,” he holds out his hand. He surely knew that you knew he was Bruce Wayne, but you shake his hand and say “Nice to meet you, Mr Wayne,” nonetheless. 

   “Ah, just Bruce is fine,” he smiles. He spends a brief moment just looking at you, but then realises that he’s still holding your hand, not even shaking it. Bruce pulls his hand back. “I’m sorry about that,” he apologises. “Just… zoned out,” he adds.

   You move your jacket into your other, newly freed, hand. “I can have that washed if you’d like?” Bruce asks, looking at the jacket, then back at you. “It’s no problem,” he assures. 

   You nod, “If you’re sure it’s no problem.” He smiles and nods back at you. Bruce puts one hand under the jacket, and the other gently atop your own hand. You look down at your hands, and his hands, feeling your face getting hot. 

   His fingers graze softly over your hands as he pulls his away, turning and giving the jacket to an old man beside him. He says something to him, and you’re only able to make out the words “washed,” and “tomorrow”, but that essentially tells you everything he said anyway. The man gives Bruce a look, before leaving with your jacket.

   “Do you do this for everyone you meet at galas?” You ask jokingly. He shrugs, “Not everyone I meet at galas gets wine on their suit.” You let out a breathy laugh, to which Bruce smiles. 

   “Would you like a drink?” He asks as a waiter with a tray of champagne walks nearby. “Yeah, I’ll have a drink.” Bruce nods and takes two glasses from the tray as he passes by. He hands you a glass. You take it, making sure your hands touch as you do so.

   You clink your glasses together and take a sip.

   “So, [Name],” Bruce starts, “What do you do?” You tilt your head ever so slightly at him. “What do you mean?” You ask, confused.

   “I can’t say I know everybody that attends these galas, but they all do something in particular. Usually businessmen and their trophy wives,” he takes another sip of champagne. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but you don’t like you’re the businessman type,” Bruce explains.

   “Do I look like a trophy wife?” You joke, trying to avoid the question that will for sure get you kicked out. Bruce laughs, “I think you could be,” he jokes back. “At least a trophy boyfriend.”

   “Speaking of trophy wives, surely Bruce Wayne has a lovely girl that’s here somewhere?” You ask, half trying to avoid the previous question and half asking if he’s single.

   Bruce looks a bit embarrassed, “No, I don’t.” You refrain from making a face about it, but you can’t deny your surprise. “Yeah, love’s hard,” you shrug as casually as you possibly can.

   The old man comes back, notably without your jacket in hand. “The suit jacket will be washed and ready tomorrow. Would you rather pick it up yourself or have it delivered?” He asks. “Ah, I’ll pick it up if that’s not a problem?”

   The man nods. You really just want another opportunity to be in Wayne Manor, especially if it means talking to its owner again. 

   “Maybe I can get your phone number?” Bruce asks, “To let you know when to pick it up,” he adds quickly, his cheeks pink. You smile, “Yeah, of course, uh,” you check your pockets for something to write on.”

   “Oh, you can just put it on my phone,” Bruce says, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He taps a few things on it before handing it to you, open on the new contact page.

   You add your number and name (with a <3 next to it for good measure). You hand his phone back to him.

He looks at the screen, a small smile on his face at the heart next to your name. He taps a few more things, and your own phone buzzes in your pocket. 

   You dig it out, checking the notification. A text from an unrecognised number; ‘Hey [Name]’, complete with a heart next to your name the same way you put it in. 

   You smile, and look back up at Bruce, who lets out a small hum. 

   “Y’know, I’d heard you were the cute playboy type, but you're much cuter in person.” You say, vocalising what was in your head. You’d already scored his phone number, so you figured ‘may as well'. Bruce laughs, though his face is undoubtedly pink.

   Turning your attention back to your phone, you add the number to your contacts under the name Bruce, of course with another heart. You have a theme going.

   You struggle to hide your excitement at the fact that Bruce Wayne is in your phone contacts.

   Before you know it, people start to filter out of the building. Neither you nor Bruce had noticed the time passing by, far too enthralled in your own conversation.

   Bruce checks his watch - surely the most expensive watch you've ever seen - “I can't believe it's that late already.”

   You check your own watch - surely a far cheaper watch. Your friend might have even given it to you second-hand - 12:27 am.

   “I should probably get going soon, then, huh.” You frown a little. Spending all night talking to Bruce might be one of the best things to ever happen to you. 

   “Or, you could stay the night?” He suggests. “Since your jacket is here and everything,” he reasons, seemingly to himself more than you. 

   Now your face is most certainly at least a little red. “Well, if you want me to.” Bruce nods, “There's more than enough beds - or room in mine,” he adds the last part quietly.

   The last of the guests are seemingly gone now. 

   Bruce holds out his hand to you. You take it.

   “Lead the way, Bruce.”

[staticnight]

Hey everyone, I haven't posted in aggesssss. I've been busy with school lately, and I've also just been procrastinating writing anything. I know there are requests in my inbox, and I will get to them eventually! I'm going to try to write more from now, but don't be surprised if it takes me a while to release anything.

Peace

[staticnight]

HELLO !! could i perchance request a fic/headcanon thing about going on patrol with nightwing? so reader is also a vigilante. idc whether it's in gotham or bludhaven :)) THANK YOU

Patrolling with Nightwing - Nightwing x Male!Vigilante!Reader

I decided to do a headcanon thing, but if you want me to do a fic just shoot me another request! I also made it a male reader since no gender was specified, but you can change, like, one word and it'll be a gender-neutral one. Enjoy <3

pairing: Nightwing x Male Reader / Dick Grayson x Male Reader genre: fluff, headcanons word count: 183

If you live together, you leave the house at different times and from different exits.

Just for some extra security.

You then meet up, patrol together, and then split up again.

This happens consistently throughout the night.

Citizens love seeing the two of you together, some claim that you’re besties and others claim they saw you kiss once.

(They were right.)

((Gotham and Bludhaven twitter go insane whenever you make appearances))

Criminals hate it when you’re together, you make a hard-to-beat team!

Neither of you will admit it, but you’re always worried for each other when you aren’t together on patrol.

You enter back into the house the same way you left.

Whoever gets there first acts as if they’ve been waiting forever

Or like they’ve just discovered your identity.

“[Vigilante name] is [Name]! My own boyfriend!”

(Hand dramatically on forehead.)

You lay in bed next to each other, and sometimes you talk about what you saw on patrol when the other wasn’t there.

Sometimes you don’t.

When the mask is off, you like to be [Name] and Dick, not [Vigilante name] and Nightwing.

[staticnight]

Target Practice - Chris Redfield x GN!BSAA!Reader

Sorry if this is terrible, I haven't written fics in a hot minute, and I also haven't written many x-readers. This was intended to be a male!reader, but I realised I hadn't used any gendered terms for the reader anyway.

pairing: Chris Redfield x Gender-Neutral Reader genre: fluff, one-shot word count: 615

   “Hey, Captain,” you greet the man, pulling off the ear muffs and setting down the gun. As Chris sets a hand gently on your shoulder. “Your aim’s getting better,” he says, inspecting the silhouette. Bullet holes sprinkled around the body, a few in the head and in the surrounding wall.

   “Can I show you how to hit headshots more accurately?” He asks, leaning close to you to hover his hand over the gun, shoulders almost touching. You inhale shakily, Chris’ gaze locked onto yours. “Yeah,” you say casually - well, tried to.

   Chris picks up the gun, and places it into your hands. “Got it?” He asks. You nod, and Chris moves behind you, hands sliding slightly downwards to rest over your hands as you hold the gun. “Hands still…”

   He teaches you how to land better headshots, and you try your best to listen to him despite the feeling of him pressed against your back, his arms resting on the sides of your own. You’d always found Chris attractive, the big strong captain of Alpha Team, Chris Redfield, but you’d never thought of acting on your feelings. No chance.

   “Okay, shoot,” Chris moves his hands away from yours. You pull the trigger and hit the silhouette clear in the head. You shoot a few more times, a clean headshot each time. You remove the now empty clip and put down the gun. Chris moves his hands to rest lightly on your arms, craning his head forward over your shoulder. Your breath hitches, Chris’s face once again close to yours. 

   “[Name],” Chris says softly, his eyes once again looking into yours.

   “Redfield,” you respond, matching his tone.

   “I’m not making you… uncomfortable? Am I?” He asks in a worried sort of voice, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. You shake your head; you’d never imagined him acting this way, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

   “Okay, good,” he says, taking a breath. He lifts his arms away and moves to stand in front of you. You have to look up slightly to look him in the eyes, but you find your eyes shifting to his lips. He notices.

   “[Name],” He says your name again. You look up at his eyes again, and Chris takes another breath. “I want to confess something,” you say, before Chris can say whatever he was going to say. He nods, and it’s your turn to breathe.

   “I’ve…” you pause, thinking of how to word this. “I’ve found you attractive for a… a while now. I wasn’t going to say anything, but then all of this happened just now, and,” you look at the ground. “I like you, and I ignored it because you’re my captain and all that, but I can’t take it anymore, I need to let you know,” you say in one breath, speaking fast. 

   Chris stares blankly for a moment, and you get worried. Did he not feel the same? Was he pulling some kind of fucked up joke just now? 

   Chris puts a hand on your shoulder, right next to your neck. He puts his other hand on your lower back, and in an instant, your worries were gone. He presses his lips softly on yours. You respond, putting your hands on each of his shoulders and kissing gently back. It’s a short kiss, pulling away from each other after a few seconds. Chris checks his watch.

   “Text me in the morning, if you want,” he says, smiling. “Will do,” you respond, smiling back at him.

[staticnight]

// about me

my name is James or Jamie, I'll also answer to static/night. I'll post mostly fanfic (x readers and the like), but you might get some completely original works too. I write fics that cater to primarily male audiences, and I'll probably do some gender-neutral ones too.

I'm super into Resident Evil, Silent Hill, and other horror games. Give me recommendations if you'd like.

// what i write

I will write fluff, maybe some angst, and spicier scenes. I am okay with writing smut, but I haven't written enough to be any good at it.

fandoms i will write for include;

resident evil, cyberpunk 2077, red dead redemption, baldur's gate 3, marvel, dc, devil may cry, yakuza, jujutsu kaisen, hannibal, supernatural ...

// if you want a character outside of these, send in a request! I'm more likely to do the above characters than not, but I'm not limited to only this list! // if you want a female character, you'll also need to send in a request. I'm more inclined to do male characters due to being into men.