#deaf!reader

“Dinnae ken how ye sleep through the night without yer wife smotherin’ ye with a pillow after the first 10 minutes.”

“The missus says she happens to like my purring, thank you very much.”

like, reader does have a hearing aid and all that, but still struggles ykwim :/ like steve taking care of her, with the aid... idk how to explain this idea sorry if it's vague

I wear a hearing aid and idk it'll be nice and comforting to read smth like that <3

I love your work !! take care and have a good day <333 (English is not my first language, I'm sorry)

I really liked this request so I did a bit of research because I'm not really familiar with hearing aids and how they work, so please please let me know if it's factually/medically incorrect in any way and I'll do my best to change it! I love you angel ♡

Steve harrington x deaf!reader ❀ 829 words

You curl into Steve's side in bed, head tucked comfortably in the crook between his chin and his shoulder, eyes closed, just breathing and basking in the morning light.

His left arm is curled under you, fingers splayed out on your abdomen, thumb brushing at the skin just above your belly button. He's still half-asleep, you think, at least he was last time you checked, and you check again by blinking one eye open and peering up at him.

Your boyfriend's eyes are half-lidded, but he is very much awake now, eyes fixed on your features. "Morning, sweetheart," he says slowly, and you read his lips, you've gotten very good at his tells, because your hearing aids aren't in yet.

His hands are on you, and he seems like he doesn't want to take them off your skin to sign, which makes a smile tug at your lips despite yourself.

MICHAEL JACKSON X DEAF!BLACK READER

Don’t startle his partner, and you won’t have a problem with the king of pop.

You were born deaf, something you couldn’t help but hate at first. Although it came in handy when you started modeling as a deaf African American, showing courage while you showcase how being deaf doesn’t bring you down when you get older.

And with your influence, you gained the attention and love of Michael Jackson.

He learned sign language whenever your hearing aids needed batteries.

He told people from the press not to grab you cause you still couldn’t hear much even with hearing aids.

He told them strictly, and he said that most times in interviews.

“Don’t grab them. They get startled easily and it’s rude.”

That’s all he says.

So when someone grabbed you while you were trying to walk with him to the guard as Bill was behind you directly.

“Y/n! Y/n! Look over here!” Paparazzi called out, and of course, you couldn’t hear him or the others taking pictures of you. And that’s when everything went loose.

The male then grabbed you, making you yelp out of shock.

Bill pushed the man back quickly, not wasting time to secure you from the people and flashing lights.

Michael pulled you close, feeling your body shake against his own as another bodyguard escorted you two into the car.

When calmed down, you see Michael talking. But it was slow, you read, “read my lips. You are okay. You’re safe.” He said.

The car starts to drive, and Michael couldn’t help but roll the windows down at the paparazzi trying to keep up. You can’t see his lips or hear him, but by the clenched jaw and pointing.

You can tell he’s pissed.

When he rolls the window back up, he’s really angry, his hands on his face while he tries to calm down.

He turns to you, too stunned with anger, and he signs to you, “That was disrespectful.”

You could only nod, knowing that the paparazzi is fully gonna have a problem with the king of pop.

dr robby x hard of hearing!younger!reader

and another thing, fuck ai (but i do love dr al-hashimi she's growing on me)//

you've been focusing on your breathing for less than two minutes. you know that. you're sitting at the hub, a half finished chart staring at you.

your head is killing you. but worse than that, there's a painful ringing in your ears. what little you can hear is blurring together, making it impossible to focus.

which, is pretty much the story of your fucking life.

your hand comes up to your ears, and you turn off your hearing aids, before pulling them off your ears.

the ringing is still there, but the extra noise is gone. your eyes flutter shut, and your hands clasp together, your hearing aids between your palms-- holding very gently, sensitive little buggers-- and you rest your forehead on your hands.

you reflect on the day, thinking about your seven your old with a 3rd degree burn. you think about your forty eight year old with a head laceration in central seven, and you think about the twenty nine year old that you got killed. well, if anyone heard you say that, they'd remind you that no one could've prevented that heart attack.

you want to cry.

but you have a feeling that if you cry, you wouldn't stop and you still have hours to go.

a hand on your shoulder makes you jump, and you open your eyes-- you glance up and your eyes soften when you see robby. your stupid, twice your age, motorcycle riding boyfriend. your boyfriend who's abandoning you to go on a three month trip. you try not to think about it.

'everything okay?' he signs.

'yeah. my head kind of hurts. tinnitus is a bitch.' you sign back. robby offers you a sympathetic smile.

'i'm sorry.' he signs back .

'not your fault.'

'want to hear a secret?' you nod, and robby gets this look on his face. 'you're really beautiful.'

you roll your eyes, but smile anyways.

'don't try to flatter me, old man.' then, your hands move and you're picking up your hearing aids before putting them back on. you turn them on, and now on top of the ringing and extra noise, there's a light buzzing, but you know that'll go away when your ears readjust.

"catching up on charting?" the newly familiar voice of dr. al-hashimi breaches your ears. "i didn't know you two knew sign language." she says, and you shrug.

"well, now you do." you smile, because you really do like her-- she's a good teacher, she's obviously qualified and competent. but you don't make it a habit to have your first conversation with someone be about your being Deaf. "i'm fluent, but robby's just picked up a few things since we've been working together."

robby started learning sign language after your first date. he's pretty good. but, that would maybe tip people off to the fact that after a long shift, the two of you can't keep your hands off each other.

"that is good information to know." she smiles, and you turn back to your charts, and she continues, "you know, if you're having trouble catching up on your charting, you can use my ai app to help it go faster. it's shown to improve all around patient and doctor satisfaction." she says, and you know she's just trying to be helpful, that she obviously sees you as a valuable resident, and that she truly has faith in those words.

but robby has listened to many, many rants about your loathing for generative ai. his eyes flick between the two of you, and he wants to grab the nearest person to him, nudge them and tell them to watch what's about to happen.

"while i really do appreciate your insight, dr al-hashimi, and your passion for the ways ai can be used in medicine," you start, closing out your chart and standing up, turning to face her, a very polite smile on your face, "i prefer to do my own charting, even if it takes longer and it cuts into my off hours. i understand that some ai can be helpful with things like preemptive detection, but i also know that generative ai not only deteriorates your critical thinking skills, ai data centers are often strategically placed in both low income areas, and in communities largely populated by people of color, using an excess amount of water and energy that negatively impacts those communities." you shrug to her, with your hands in your pockets. "but i encourage everyone to do what works for them, as long as they let me do what works for me. i gotta go check on my burn in pedes." you tell both robby and al-hashimi.

as you walk away, whitaker approaches al-hashimi with a question, and robby follows you towards the vending machine. sugar surely will make you feel better.

"i want to tell you how impressed i am with the restraint you just showed." robby's voice is teasing, and you roll your eyes.

"i was thirty seconds away from telling her i couldn't hear her." you scoff, and it makes him snort. "but i like her. i just can't stand her ai thing," you mumble, reaching to your pocket to put money into the vending machine, but robby is quicker than you are--

he's swiping his card and pressing the buttons for your soft drink of choice before you can even stop him.

"you're bold today." you observe, "feeling cocky before your sabbatical?" you wonder, and he just shakes his head.

"i just wanna help you feel better. what else is wrong?" he wonders, and you want to tell him you can't stop thinking about the patient you lost, but you don't. instead, you start to ramble about something that doesn't matter.

"i lost my fucking chapstick this morning." you grumble, opening the soda, taking a sip and continuing, "and i can't stop chewing at my lip, so it's all fucked and, mm--"

robby places a kiss to your lips before you can continue, and it's only momentary, but it's enough for you to taste his own chapstick. you blush a deep red and your eyes dart around, trying to see if anyone was around to see that.

but luckily, the vending machine is in a dark corner of your beloved ed.

"better?" he asks, and you huff.

"i know you're going on sabbatical for three months and you have some sort of mission to cause as much trouble as possible before you leave," you start, "but i still have to come into work tomorrow and be around these people. i would rather not have them think i'm fucking my boss."

"you are fucking your boss." he reminds, and you give him the same sort of trouble making smile he always gives you.

"no, i'm not. dr. al-hashimi and i are just friends, dr. robinavitch." you tease right back, "and given that you're leaving me to go ride your death trap of a bike, i feel like that wasn't nearly as low of a blow as it could've been."

robby looks at you for a long time. like he's trying to figure you out.

you lick your lips, holding your soda can in your hand.

"what is that," you start, licking your lips again, "strawberry?"

"cherry." robby answers, and hands you his chapstick. you look at him. "consider it a parting gift." he shrugs.

you take the chapstick from him.

"shouldn't you get me something more expensive? like, jewelry, or something?" you wonder, and robby just gives you one of his signature, 'hmmph's, before nodding over in the general direction of pedes.

"don't act so spoiled, sweetheart." he says, "c'mon, let's go check on your burn wound, huh?" and you have to speed walk to catch up with his long legs.

the truth is that robby does have a more expensive parting gift for you-- in a small block box at the bottom of his backpack. no, it's not a ring-- it's these earrings that hang off your hearing aids, silver, with moon and star charms, from this company called 'deafmetal'. robby intends to give it to you after your shift, and then fuck you as many times a he can-- he has to get three months of it in in one night, and michael robinavitch is nothing if not stubborn.

//end note:

you can read more about the harmful effects of generative ai here!

simon riley x deaf!reader

tw: none, literally just pure fluff

“It’s just one date. I promise.”

You didn’t know how your friend had convinced you to go on a blind double date in the first place. In fact, you weren’t even the first choice, but when your friend came by to ask you to fill in for another girl who had bailed out last minute, you pity-agreed to help her out.

You weren’t sure if you were making the right choice. Dating wasn’t your thing, and you avoided it like it was the scum of the earth. Not to say you had bad experiences, per se, but you also didn’t have the best choice of men. None of them understood your situation to its fullest, but that was okay! You didn’t need their validation, and you were perfectly content with the way things were.

There was no harm in going on a fun date and having a few drinks and good food, you thought. One night, and you’d never have to see your blind date again.

Besides, your friend seemed to really be into her date from the way she’d gush about him after they met online (not your favorite choice, but you’d support her anyway), and you didn’t want to ruin that for her.

That’s what led you to be here, shoulder to shoulder with your friend as she rambled on about how excited she was with speedy hand gestures, how grateful she was that you came, that she’ll make sure your dinner and drinks are paid for. You weren’t exactly sure where the two of you were going, but judging from what she forced you to wear, it had to be a bit fancy and lavish.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that was also not your favorite choice.

She guided you inside of the building, which was a preview of what was to come — high ceilings, ravishing decor, and low lighting that made everything much more romantic. You took in the fluorescent scenery as she spoke with the hostess. You didn’t know what they were saying, but as the waitress gestured with a hand for the two of you to follow, you assumed the two men were already there.

Your arm was looped loosely with your friend’s as the two of you walked after the hostess. When you approached a table, you took in the sight of one man that looked familiar — your friend’s date, a man with smooth, tanned skin and a smile that could cure sickness. The other man was new to you, and compared to your friend’s date — Kyle? — he was much more phlegmatic.

Kyle gave a polite nod towards you with a blinding smile, and you have one back, bowing your head in greeting. You sat next to your friend, watching as Kyle pulled out the chair for her, to which your date definitely didn’t do the same.

That was alright. You weren’t planning on making it past the first date anyway.

Your friend began to chatter with Kyle while you and your mystery date sat in silence. Your hands remained in your lap as your eyes scanned the menu that sat on the table.

Focused on appearing as busy as possible, you were unfortunately snapped out of it before it could last long when your friend nudged your shoulder with hers. When you looked up at her, she was smiling, and she lifted her hand to signal the man in front of you.

Blinking at him, you realized he was possibly trying to talk to you, and you shifted awkwardly. He probably thought you were rude.

“Sorry, Simon. I forgot to mention she’s deaf, so she didn’t know you were introducing yourself,” your friend apologized, and you watched as he stared at her before nodding in acknowledgment. “It won’t change anything, yeah?”

You sat in tense silence as you averted your eyes back to the menu. Your date had eyes that could pierce right through you if they wanted to, and you weren’t quite sure you wanted to be their next victim, date or not.

A phone screen was slid across the table from where you were studying the menu, and your eyes flickered to see a string of words typed out in the notes app.

“Sorry if that came off as rude. I’m Simon.”

Glancing up at him, you flashed him a smile that was relieved. He gave you an awkward one back, and you thought maybe he didn’t do it much.

You picked up his phone from where it sat in front of you and began typing out your response before slipping it back to him. You watched as he read it, a look of amusement in his eyes as he did so.

“Not rude at all. Sorry she didn’t tell you. You can back out if you’d like, I won’t take offense.”

Kyle and your friend were conversed in conversation with one another while Simon and you had your own back and forth.

“Why would I do that?” his next note read, and you tilted your head at him. He offered you a shrug, and your fingers tapped along his screen in return.

“Most men wouldn’t like being blindsided by not knowing their date is deaf.”

You saw his mouth part open when he read it, and you wondered if he was chuckling to himself. You wished you could hear it.

Was it deep? What if it was one of those contagious laughs that sounded like the literal gates of heaven opening up, and you wouldn’t ever have the chance of hearing it?

You didn’t have time to think about it when he placed the phone back in front of you, and when you glanced down, you couldn’t help but smile bashfully to yourself.

“A pretty girl’s a pretty girl. I’d be an idiot for backing out on the prettiest one I’ve had the gall to see over something like that.”

Fuck.

You weren’t supposed to like your date, much less so quickly. You only came for the food and for the sake of your friend’s happiness, but here you were, cheesing to yourself like a stupid teenager with a new crush.

But as the date continued, with the both of you eating alongside Kyle and your friend, shamelessly passing his phone back and forth and filling his notes app with evidence of your growing infatuation, you knew it wasn’t only for the food anymore.

He was sweet. Sure, it was all on paper (well, screen), and you told yourself to always be cautious with men.

But when he asked you out on a second date, then a third, you allowed your concrete walls to crumble.

A deep vibration that you felt directly against your cheek before your implants fully processed it. It was your favorite sound in the world.

A red flash. The heartbreaking screech of brakes against the asphalt. Thunderous horns. The explosion of metal against metal and a dull impact that seemed to change the meaning of the universe. Then, nothingness.

The ER goes completely haywire, even more so than usual, when a patient turns out to be the deaf wife of the infamous Park “The Shark”

warnings: creature au, canon divergence, deaf!reader, a/b/o dynamics, obsessive thoughts.

Hey guys and welcome to another piece for the spooky season, this time a collab with @pa1nrema1ns featuring a beautiful but deadly version of a certain Shadow Monarch! If you’re interested in seeing the artwork that inspired me, I’ll leave the link to it here. Credit goes to the original artist :)

So without further ado sit back, relax, and let us find out what is dwelling beneath the dark, briny waters~.

divider @cafekitsune

Siren! Sung Jinwoo despised humans. To this deadly apex predator, they are disgusting creatures full of greed and violence. He might lure them to a watery grave with his voice or the endless shadows under his command, but he did it to survive. To eat. It helped that his appearance was considered to be highly attractive by human standards: a handsome, but intimidating face with a muscular chest and sleek black hair. 

What the bewitched humans never considered as he cradled them lovingly in his arms is that there is a monochromatic tail swishing beneath the dark waves before he pulled them under. His inky ear fins were concealed by illusionary magic of course. He couldn’t take a chance of the smallest possibility that there might be a human who is immune to a siren’s song. 

When he finished collecting the carcasses in a sack and any pretty trinkets that might interest the traders at the market enough to sell their wares to him, Jinwoo would return home to his little sister and mother. They lived in an underwater cave just several miles from the coast of Jindou Island. It was a quiet human settlement when the winds grew colder, and the villagers knew better than to cross his path thanks to the reputation and training as Ashborn’s terrifying apprentice. When spring or summer arrived, however, humans from the Mainland came to the island in droves.

More meat sacks meant more food and a little more variety in flavor. He also wouldn’t have to go head-to-head against the other sirens either, especially the ones who think they can become the alpha of these waters by defeating him in a contest on who can lure in the most humans or defeating him in combat. Hah. How annoying.   

Now imagine when he catches the delectable scent of an omega after spending another afternoon collecting seaweed to go with the evening’s meal. Humans, like sirens, possessed secondary genders and their own hierarchy. Securing a steady job or finding a partner largely depended on who was an alpha, beta, or omega. 

But what made the latter the superior species is that once an omega accepts an alpha’s courting gift or allows an alpha to enter their nest during mating season, the alpha will not seek the company of another omega regardless of how sweet and lovely their scent is. Sirens were hunters, committed to the wellbeing of their mates and pups. Humans were fickle and prone to cheating, even if they were bound to someone else. 

His amethyst irises dilated upon identifying the aromatic fragrance of bergamot and vanilla, followed by the activation of his sensory glands. There was no doubt about it; he had found an unmarked omega, and he needed to track the owner, before another siren to approach his intended mate first. 

He swam close to the coast, near the shoreline. He never got this close to the surface before, because he could not take the risk of his soul being trapped by the humans when they carried those cursed black boxes in their hands. Ashborn called them phones. A bizarre word for a deadly weapon. 

The scent led him to a ship that was ten times bigger than the ones he had seen in the past. Was this a yacht, the legendary vessel that can carry thousands of humans and let them off to explore? No. If that were true, then it would have anchored off much farther from the island and far from the sandbars. The name of this vessel is Murder on The Cerulean Sea. Filming in Process - Quiet on Set! Yachts are supposed to have shorter names. So what is this? Is the omega trapped somewhere beneath the deck? Unacceptable. 

Jinwoo was about to summon Igris to conduct a discreet search of the ship when the siren suddenly discovered that you were the source of the scent he had been seeking. But you were not a siren who had been kidnapped by the humans. You were a human. And you were part of the ship’s crew. 

So why is it he could not find it in his hammering heart to spit in disapproval and vanish back into the ocean to sort out his confused emotions? Why did he want to know what kind of human you were? What are those strange gestures you are making with your hands in front of the blonde woman and brown-haired man, yet your mouth remains closed? Is it a unique form of communication? A spell? Perhaps his mentor would know the answer. Ashborn knows many things about these creatures. 

With a flick of his tail, Jinwoo disappeared beneath the  waves and swam past the coral reefs. The seaweed beds and the rocks that held precious pearls in its crevices flickered from the corner of his eyes as he traveled further. Down, down, down, into the darkness below. A graveyard of titans from eons ago, broken remnants of civilizations. Stone, marble, and glass glowing in iridescent light. This was the place that no one except for him would dare go: the abyss. 

Try as he might to distract his muddled thoughts by analyzing every single detail in the familiar sights leading to his master’s domain, Jinwoo could not stop thinking about you. 

How is it possible that he, a proud warrior and an alpha, could be easily swayed by the wiles of a human omega? It was as if the roles had been reversed; he would be the victim falling prey to your irresistible charm, and you would be smiling viciously, hungry for his flesh. Is this what it felt like to be ensnared in a trap with no means of escape? 

No. No, he cannot succumb to temptation. A siren and a human are not meant to be mates. Jinwoo could only hope that Ashborn will give him the answers that he seeks before your maddening fragrance takes hold of over his mind and lure him back to the surface again.