#static x reader

Just as she escaped the confines of your TV, her surprisingly keen, rounded ears picked up the sound of sniffling. Your sniffling.

Miku paused, her eyes, albeit shut, turning to your door (shhh just imagine). She walked over, opening it a little and looking through the crack.

Through the slimmer of light, she could see you hunched over on the bed, sheets crumpled and curled around your thighs. There was a metallic tang of blood in the air.

Miku froze, words she so desperately wanted to speak stuck in her throat.

She watched as your hand lifted, something small and metallic in your grip, and slid slowly across your arm. You winced and repeated the motion despite the pain.

Miku’s heart dropped. She recognised the action, the blood, the feeling from her own days when she struggled. It was hard to grow out of, and it hurt her no less seeing you do it to yourself.

Without a word, she padded over to you and sat beside you on the bed. Your arms were coated in slits, blood oozing out, that went deep and jagged like snakes. Your thighs were no different.

No wonder you’d been wearing baggy clothes.

Miku met your gaze, and the two of you stared at eachother. Her eyes, light blue pupils glistening with poorly-hidden tears, had opened when she climbed up to you.

“Love,” she began, reaching out with shaky hands to take the blade away. She tucked it into her pocket, making a mental note to herself to check your room for anything else. “I… May I bandage your wounds for you…?”

You nod.

Miku gets up and walks to the bathroom, getting a medkit from a cupboard under your sink. By the time she returned, you were watching her.

She took the disinfectant and sprayed your cuts, kissing your cheek every time you winced and wriggled. She made sure to be gentle and slow to avoid spooking you.

The blood quickly dripped away, leaving the sight of your flesh bare to Miku’s eyes. Her heart felt sorrow, and she kissed your nose. Even as you looked away, her gaze held no judgement, only understanding and love.

The gauze didn’t burn as much, but you winced anyway. It felt strange, as she material and tape pressed against your skin and stopped you from bending your arms and legs.

“Darling,” Miku murmured, gaze catching yours. “I’m not gonna force you to talk to me, but I’m here, yeah? Whether you need to ramble about something, or… or when life is… chasing your ass, I’m right here beside you.”

That was the first time you’d heard her curse.

You nod and collapse into her arms, dwarfing her small body. She snuggled against your chest.

If you were calm, even just for a moment, she was, too.

Relentless. 

If there was any word to describe Richie Foley, then you could use that. But more than a few others came to mind if someone was kind enough to expand your word limit. 

You adored him, truly, he was one of your best friends, and under any circumstance different than this you would never trade him for all the riches you could own. But currently, you’d trade him for half a stale corn chip and the rest of your tranquility. 

You had been caught rewatching Static’s most recent TV interview, that quick one after the fight that had made your heart flutter all these years later. Caught by Richie, who had a trickster's glint in his eyes as soon as he realized, dashing back out the door before you could utter a word of warning against him. 

Since that day he had been letting it slip, or coming close, at the most inopportune times. The teasing causing you to go red in the face and shove him away or scurry off as fast as you could, only to hide behind Virgil like his body could be a shield against words. For what mattered, Richie could never keep a straight face trying to say it in front of Virgil, so it did work. 

But there had been another reason you had been rewatching that video, and why sometimes you skimmed Static’s public appearances. There was a familiarity there, one that tickled the depths of your mind every time you saw him move a certain way, or the inflection of his voice. It was agonizing in a way, always on the tip of your tongue but never fully formed. You had, at one point, even considered running it by Virgil and Richie, but something had caused you to bite your tongue, keeping your thoughts to yourself, though the need to remain silent still confused you. 

“Hey, did you hear me?” 

You snap back, jolting slightly from the couch while you whirl to face Virgil who stands behind you, hands on either side of your head as he leans over the back of the couch. “Uh, sorry, Virg. I didn’t.” 

“I asked if you wanted some chips, but now I wanna know if you’re okay? Your head’s been in the clouds all day. I’m starting to get a little worried.” 

You hum, taking one of his hands in your own and giving it a quick squeeze. “I’m okay, really. Just a little caught up in myself today.” 

“Hey, if it’s been about Richie and this whole Static thing you know I can talk to him, right?” He questions you, walking around until he can plop down on the couch shoulder-to-shoulder. 

You don’t fluster so easily at the contact, but the look he fixes you with – how sincere he is to help you – has the little twitch of butterflies in your stomach. “It isn’t that. I know if it was that I could talk to him too. There’s just something that’s been on the tip of my tongue I’ve been trying to figure out, and I just can’t shake it, but I can’t figure out what it is either. Usually it goes away, but it just won’t leave me alone right now.” 

He leans over to you, pushing against your shoulder and sending you lazily swaying before you rest against him once more. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

You purse your lips, more focused on the wall than him for the moment, though you can feel the heat coming off him. “I don’t think so. You came over to hang out, and I’d rather just do that.” 

“Could do both,” he taps your arm when he sees you open your mouth to interrupt him, “but I’m happy either way.” 

You can only roll your eyes before getting to your feet. “Then let’s go.” 

“Where are we going?” he asks, one eyebrow raised as he takes your offered hand and allows you to pull him from the warm and absolute embrace of your broken-down couch. 

“Food - you get to pick the place, and I’ll pay.” 

“I can pay for my own, ya know.” 

“I do, but let me treat you this time. You always spoil me.” 

“Hey, I like spoiling you for your information. Makes me feel better when I see all those bruises on your legs.” he jokes, poking at your thigh while you pull away with an affronted grumble. “Where do you even get them?” 

“There are not that many!” You defend yourself, despite the voice crack, shooing his hand away, ignoring the face he makes, like a kicked puppy left out in the cold – he makes it every time you stop him from having a hand on or against you. “And they’re from falling... up the stairs.” 

“You mean down?” The mirth in his voice is unmistakable, and irking all the same, but in an endearing way. 

“No, I mean up.” 

“You sure you’re not a bang baby? That’s gotta be a power or something.” 

“No, but I might just be cursed.” You assure, reaching your pinky out to hook with his. “And you can’t tell Richie by the way. I doubt he needs any more blackmail on me.” You shudder at the thought, but it subsides a moment later when Virgil returns your pinky hold without so much as a nod. 

“Hey, I can hide plenty from him.” 

“Until he starts coming at you with something and next thing you know I’m thrown under the bus.” 

“Hey that was one time, and only after you sold me out to get some extra gossip on me.” 

“A trade is a trade, Hawkins.” 

He shakes his head, stepping further in front of you just so he can tug you along. “Come on, if we go any slower, I think my stomach is gonna start digesting itself.” 

It sets off the rest of a good day, one with plenty of jovial ribbing and snarky quips – a staple of your days out. Right along with the physical touch that neither of you ever seems to let up on when alone. 

But three days later and you’re missing your boys. Both of your friends had been kept busy, barely having the time to text. Not that it was a surprise, adult life hit hard, and you could go some time before seeing one another, but that never made it any less lonesome. 

It also didn’t help in trying to keep from getting sucked right back into the rabbit hole of why Static was so familiar. There was a similar itch with Gear at times, but you’d be a liar to say you were not focused on one of them more than the other. 

“Hey! Watch out!” 

You jerked up at the sound of a familiar voice, only to realize that in your lost thoughts you had almost walked into scaffolding scattered in front of a restaurant under renovation. 

“Thank you!” you call, turning to face the voice. You’re taken back when you have to look upwards, to where Static himself is floating on the “static saucer” as you had once heard it referred to. There's a twinge of disappointment that you recognize but push aside as the hero lowers himself to the ground and folds the disc away. 

“You okay? Almost got squished by all that equipment.” He motions behind you, where your back is now turned to the mess, clearly concerned. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry to be a bother – I wasn’t paying attention, just sort of on autopilot, you know? But thank you for stopping me.” 

“I’m glad that I was around, it might have been nasty otherwise.” 

You can’t help but agree with a grimace as you glance behind yourself once more. 

“I wish I could say it’s the first or last time, but I’m accident prone.” 

“At least it’s not falling up the stairs this time,” Static jokes, laughing quietly to himself. 

You almost miss it, but the last two words have your eyes narrowing and the gears clicking together in your head. The feeling of disappointment and seeing the local hero in the flesh was because you had expected to be looking at Virgil – the man who had your heart and had for some time. It was his voice that had called out to you to stop you. It was likely because it was Virgil’s voice that the warning had even registered in your fuzzy state of mind. 

You compose yourself before he notices, trying desperately to wipe the puckish grin from your face before he realizes his slip up. “Well, thank you again for saving me.” 

“Saving feels a bit out there, but you’re welcome.” 

“Well, in my defense, it’s not every day that a handsome superhero comes to my rescue.” You can see in real time the way his brain short circuits, and you have to physically shake your head once as if you can shake off your desire to laugh. “I mean, it’s just,” you pause, waving one hand around to make your point of grandeur, and the smile slips up for a second, “shocking, you know?” 

He composes himself a heartbeat later, coughing into his fist as he brings his eyes from the ground and back to you. “Well,” he coughs once more for real, “thank you for the compliment, kind citizen.” 

You almost choke trying to hold back the snort that comes out in response. He’s playing it strong, like he has no idea who you are, but to save himself from embarrassment. You realize he has no idea he has given himself away. 

It’s then that you remember that dumb smug look on a certain blond friend’s face some days ago - who must be Gear, your mind chimes - at his suggestion should you ever meet your hero crush. You can feel the way your eyes squint as your smile slips once more, leaving you almost biting your lip to stop from giving yourself away. 

Virgil. Or Static, you should say for now, is in the middle of giving you a soft reminder about watching your step, which you nod along to only half listening. “Of course, of course. I’ll be more careful.” You promise it to appease him when he fixes you with a look – one that means he knows you too well, only solidifying what you now know. “Let me thank you again,” you hum, stepping forward before he can blink, one hand on his shoulder to tilt him to your height before you plant a kiss on his cheek. 

When you pull back he isn’t moving, still as a statue to the point you aren’t sure he is breathing, staring at nothing while your actions are processed in his mind. And then you see the sunshine bright look that begins to dawn on his face as he looks back at you, seeming to forget he’s supposed to pretend not to know you. You speak before he gets the chance. “You can thank Gear for the idea.” You finish with a wink before stepping back. 

It is then that he remembers that he stands before you as a hero, not a civilian. But the connection isn’t lost on him, and he shakes his head before sighing. He struggles to find any words before he finally settles on something. “Be safe on your walk back and try not to fall up the stairs this time.” He lowers his voice before taking a step forward. “I’ll see if I can grab him to swing by tonight and talk about all this.” 

“Well,” you drawl out, kicking at shards of ruined cement, “if he can’t come by later then maybe we can pick up from that kiss on your cheek, if you’d like to talk about that too.” 

He stops a moment, genuinely thinking it through before he has that same sharp grin you’ve come to love. “How about I kick him out after? So that we can talk alone.” 

You hum nodding your head before shooting a fleeting glance at him and mouthing ‘talk’ for what little you believed that would be your focus. “That’ll work fine by me,” you say, back already turned to him as you weave through the renovation work. 

“See, I need you to repeat that,” Richie chided, leaning forward with sudden rapt attention – one hand absent-mindedly playing with his earring. 

You could only huff, shoving his face away from you before leaning back, your cheeks beginning to burn in embarrassment. “I don’t know your game here, Foley, but you can knock that self-satisfied look right off your dumb smug face.” You couldn’t be sure where his sudden interest had come from in your answer, but that look he was giving you said that you likely didn’t want to know either. 

“No, I really need to hear you say it again: who was your childhood crush?” 

The smile threatening to take over on his face was hard to ignore, but you pushed it aside, glaring at his mocking attempt of being serious. “It was Static!” You bark out, throwing your hands up in frustration. “You’re acting like I was the only teenager who had a major crush on him.” 

Richie held his hands up in surrender. “True, you weren't – there was a line of girls and guys waiting to plant one on him.” 

You can’t help the huff of laughter that slips past your lips, though you’re still trying to hold onto your irritated persona with the blond in front of you. “There still is,” you finally chime, leaning back. 

Richie seems like he’s about to agree, or make some sort of smart remark, before a devious grin finds its way onto his face. “Actually -” 

That’s all the warning you get before he leans back with his hands cupped around his mouth and shouts. “VIRG!” 

And just when you thought you could avoid another noise complaint from the neighbors. 

“Man, Richie, why’d you have to yell so loud? I bet they heard you all the way on the Watchtower,” Virgil gripes, finger in his ear as he shakes his head in a show of over dramatics. Still, he makes his way forwards before finding a seat next to you on the couch. 

“I was just playing twenty questions with our resident dork here,” he chimes, gesturing towards you. 

“He was interrogating me,” you interrupt. 

“I was curious!” He pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose when they’re knocked loose from his jolt backwards. “But I really think you need to hear this one, Virgil.” 

You can only roll your eyes, leaning as far back into the couch as you can – praying to any deity listening that it opens and swallows you whole before you can embarrass yourself. Richie will get you to admit it, one way or the other, and it’s always easier to go along with what he wants when he seems this determined than it is to find out whatever information he has hidden away on you and ready to hold, affectionately, over your head as leverage. “Richie asked who my teenage crush was,” you say, turning towards Virgil but refusing to make eye contact, “and I said it was Static.” 

You do finally look to the man beside you when you hear him choke on his own drink. “I’m sorry – did you say Static?” 

“Why are you guys acting like that’s so surprising!” 

Richie seems to shoot a knowing look at Virgil, one you can’t quite decipher, and it only fuels your fire. Though you can at least acknowledge it seems to have ticked off something in Virgil who is staring Richie down like he can set him ablaze with his mind. 

Richie pays no mind to Virgil’s apparent telepathic attempts at threatening him, turning his attention back to you instead. “I mean, why Static though?” 

You scoff, insulted he would say such a thing and ready to defend your choice. “Well for starters, because I have good taste, so jot that down Foley.” 

You pause and glance at Virgil when you hear him honest to god snort before he hides his face behind his hand. 

“And secondly, have you seen him in action? I mean come on! Listen, he’s gotta be roughly our age. And he was cute when we were younger, and he’s hot now.” 

Virgil interrupts you this time, leaning in. “Wait, are you saying you still have a thing for him?” 

You flush at that before straightening up and staring him down. “What of it?” 

Virgil says nothing, but you can see the embarrassed look he hides a moment later when he takes a long sip of his drink. 

Then it’s back to the blond who started this all. Richie is laughing, looking back at an awkward Virgil – for a reason you can’t place – and seeming all too amused with the situation at hand. “Was there like, a moment that solidified it or was it a gradual thing?” 

You actually have to pause and think at that, eyes fixed on the floor and face scrunched up in consideration. Almost three minutes pass before you can finally give your honest answer. “It was gradual for a bit, I think, but then there was one fight in particular that just,” you click your tongue and absently wave your hand, “ya know, sold it.” 

“Oh, please enlighten us.” 

“You know, you really seem to be enjoying this.” you huff, arms crossed as you stare down the man seated in front of you. 

“Consider it my payment since I was outvoted on our movie tonight.” Again, he shoots a look at Virgil, who at least has the decency to give him an apologetic shrug. 

Sure, the electric hero hadn’t wanted to see the movie you had put up on the table, but when your eyes had lit up talking about it Virgil was sold – breaking the tie between you and Richie in your favor. He had popcorn thrown at him all night in retaliation while you weren’t looking, but it had been worth it. 

Your resigned sigh brings everyone back to the present as you close your eyes, face scrunched up again and nose held between your fingers like you’re willing away a headache. Suddenly you shift forward, elbows to your knees as you recount it. “Fine - so it was one of the times when he was fighting Hotstreak – I don’t remember how long ago. But for some reason he had his sleeves rolled up and his glasses down. And firstly, that was already, like.” You falter, trying to find the words before just making the ‘perfect’ sign with your hand. “But then! This huge wall of fire went at him and Static made this barrier with his powers. This huge glowing field of electricity that surrounded him.” You taper off, embarrassed at how animated you had gotten recounting it. “That was it, I’d say.” 

Richie seems all too pleased with this information, and he’s staring you down in a way that tells you he’s biting his tongue so something doesn’t slip out. It’s vexing, really. Virgil, you notice on the other hand, seems completely embarrassed by your admission – and for your life you can’t understand why that is. 

“You know what I think,” Richie starts. 

“I’d rather not.” 

Your plea goes ignored. 

“I think that when you see Static you should just plant a kiss right on his cheek.” 

You stare at Richie incredulously, “I’m not doing that.” 

“You should.” 

You don’t try to argue with him, only looking to Virgil for any sort of desperate help before you throttle the blond and take your trio to a duo. 

Hawkins is as much help as a wet piece of end bread – which is to say, absolutely none. But he is doing a better job at molding himself into the couch than you were earlier, and you’ll give him credit for that, even if his actions have you puzzled. 

It’s all the more reason he’s endearing, you muse quietly to yourself. 

You catch Richie’s knowing smirk from the corner of your eye and turn to him with a look that has him reeling back. As though he understands the threat at hand should he say anything to allude to your painfully obvious crush on Virgil. But he never would, and you know that. You’ve been friends with the pair long enough that you think you’d trust them over the local heroes to have your back. 

Finally, the topic changes and you can breathe a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping and tension leaving your body. 

And days later, when Static has his next fight – well, maybe you notice a little faster when faced with an older version of Static pulling the same stunt that had your teenage heart swooning those few years before. The icing on top is when someone from the crowd asks him to say one of his old lines and he decides to humor them, just for a moment. “The name’s Static, I’ll put a shock to your system.” punctuated with a wink as he finally pushes his shades from his face.