#Deaf reader

[androgynouswriter-kun]

[wrr000]

[reidmarieprentiss]

Languages of Love

Summary: Based on this request! Spencer meets you, someone who uses a language he can't use, and is determined to learn your language and impress you.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x deaf!fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: sign language

Word count: 4.1k

a/n: this was adorable omfg i can totally see spencer needing to learn a new language because he meets a beautiful person

main masterlist

You were standing in line, waiting to order your coffee, when the person ahead of you suddenly turned around with a confused expression. You blinked, tilting your head slightly in question, trying to understand what their look meant, only to realize they weren't focused on you—they were looking at something behind you.

Curious, you turned around to see what had caught their attention. Standing off to the side were two people who looked very official—a man and a woman, both watching you expectantly. The sight puzzled you, and your brow furrowed as you tried to make sense of their presence.

You tilted your head again, a silent question in your eyes, wondering why they seemed to be addressing you. Before you could react further, the man began to speak, but his words spilled out too quickly, and his lips moved in a blur—far too fast for you to read.

Feeling a bit flustered but wanting to clear up the confusion, you lifted your hands and signed, “I’m sorry, I’m deaf.” Your movements were calm but clear, hoping they would understand.

The woman’s eyes followed your hands carefully, and after a brief pause of comprehension, she responded in sign language, though her motions were a bit awkward and unsure. “I’m sorry,” she signed, her hands slightly stiff, “can I talk to you?”

You nodded, though a hint of hesitation clouded your eyes. You motioned towards the counter, your hand forming the sign for "coffee" as you asked, “Coffee?” A small, polite smile spread across the woman’s face, and she nodded while signing back, “Yes, please.”

Turning back to the barista, you quickly ordered two coffees, keeping your movements efficient, your eyes flitting back occasionally to the two strangers. After a few moments, you balanced the cups in your hands and followed the man and woman to a nearby table, your mind racing with questions about who they were and why they wanted to talk to you.

You all sat down together, the tension of the unknown hanging over the table like a thick cloud. The man, looking slightly flushed—embarrassment, you observed—pulled a notebook from his pocket. He scribbled across the page quickly, his eyes darting up to you every so often as though gauging your reaction. After a moment, he flipped the notebook around, pushing it across the table for you to read:

We are with the FBI. We’re canvassing this area as a potential suspect has been spotted coming to this café. Can we ask you some questions?

Your eyes scanned the note, the words sinking in like stones as your heartbeat quickened. FBI? Suspect? You looked up at the two agents, your pulse in your ears, and nodded, your hand lifting instinctively to sign, “Yes.”

The two agents introduced themselves, the man as Dr. Spencer Reid and the woman as Dr. Alex Blake. You nodded at each name, trying to maintain your composure despite the underlying nerves. Once introductions were made, they dove right into their questions—simple, straightforward things: How often did you come to this café? Had you seen anyone suspicious lately? Any strange behavior that stood out to you?

As you answered each question in turn, you couldn’t help but notice Dr. Reid’s frustration. It became apparent how much he wished he knew more sign language, his brow furrowing whenever he struggled to understand, his hands occasionally twitching as though wishing to communicate properly. He would look to Dr. Blake for support each time you signed a response, and you found his earnestness almost endearing, this quiet desperation to make sure you felt understood.

Dr. Blake, on the other hand, impressed you with her sign language skills. Although her movements were not perfectly fluid, her recall was solid, and she managed to keep up with you almost effortlessly. She took the lead in asking follow-up questions, her hands moving with a careful confidence that showed she had practiced this before. Every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of Dr. Reid glancing between you and Dr. Blake, clearly trying to learn and understand, his eyes darting back and forth with sharp focus. 

It made you smile—just a small quirk of your lips—as you could tell he was putting in genuine effort, and you appreciated it more than you could say. In a way, it softened the situation, making it feel less like an interrogation and more like a casual chat, albeit with an important undertone.

After you’d shared everything you could think of, Dr. Reid and Dr. Blake nodded appreciatively. They both signed "thank you," and while Dr. Blake’s movements were confident, Dr. Reid's were hesitant and slow, his brow furrowing as he tried to get it right. He turned to Alex, his voice tinged with a shy curiosity. “Alex, can you show me how to say ‘thank you for your time’?”

A grin spread across Dr. Blake's face as she demonstrated the sign slowly, her movements exaggerated so he could easily follow along. Dr. Reid focused intently, copying her motions with a nervous determination. After a couple of attempts, he finally got it, his face lighting up with a small, triumphant smile as he turned to you. “Thank you for your time,” he signed, a bit clumsily but with sincerity in every gesture.

You couldn't help but giggle softly, charmed by his effort, and you responded with a bright smile, your hand moving fluidly as you signed back, “Thank you.” There was something warm and genuine about the exchange, the simple kindness in their attention to making sure they communicated with you as best as they could. You all signed your goodbyes, your hands dancing through the familiar gestures, and then you turned to leave, ready to head back to your day.

But before you could take more than a step away, you felt a gentle touch on your shoulder. Surprised, you turned around, your eyes widening slightly until they landed on Dr. Reid. You couldn't help but smile as he stood there, his expression a mixture of hopefulness and uncertainty. He hesitated for just a moment before raising his hand to his ear and mouth, mimicking the universal “phone” gesture. It was clear he didn’t know the proper sign, but his eagerness was adorable, and you found yourself giggling again, nodding to show you understood.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out your phone and handed it over to him. He accepted it with a small, bashful smile, quickly typing his number into your contacts before handing the phone back to you. As you looked at the screen, your eyes danced with teasing amusement. You saved the number and immediately sent him a text, letting him see that now he had your number, too.

Spencer’s eyes met yours as his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he fished it out to see your message, his cheeks tinting slightly pink. You waved, your hand fluttering playfully, and then turned to walk away, glancing back just once to catch a final glimpse of his shy, boyish smile before you disappeared into the crowd.

When you finally got home, you kicked off your shoes, dropped your bag by the door, and flopped down onto the couch with a sigh of relief. It had been an odd day—running into two FBI agents at your favorite café was definitely not part of the plan—but it was intriguing.

Your phone buzzed as you relaxed into the cushions, and you quickly fished it out of your pocket, your eyes lighting up when you saw the message. It was from Spencer Reid, and just seeing his name brought a grin to your face. You opened the text, your smile widening as you read his polite and thoughtful words.

Hello, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. I did not know how to sign this, but I wanted to give you my number in case you thought of any additional information or had any questions. I hope I did not make you uncomfortable.

You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, amused by how proper and formal he was, even over text. His thoughtfulness shone through every word, the way he worried if he’d made you uncomfortable, and the cautious professionalism in offering his number just in case. It was sweet, and it made your heart warm a little.

You typed back quickly, fingers flying over the keyboard as you smiled to yourself, deciding to add a hint of playful teasing to your response.

Hi! You did not make me uncomfortable at all, you’re sweet. Although, I am a little disappointed you only gave me your number for professional reasons.

You hit send, the message whooshing off into cyberspace, and sat back with a satisfied little grin on your face. You wondered how he might respond—would he be flustered? Amused? Whatever the answer, you had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last you’d hear from Dr. Spencer Reid. 

—

Spencer couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face as he read your message, his eyes lingering over your words. He tucked his phone back into his pocket, the warmth of the exchange settling comfortably in his chest. It wasn’t often that someone teased him so lightly, so playfully. He liked it—more than he expected to.

Alex caught the change in his demeanor instantly, narrowing her eyes with a teasing grin. "What was that?" she asked, her tone playful and prodding as she tilted her head towards him. "You seem... unusually cheerful for an investigation."

Spencer cleared his throat, doing his best to mask his smile, though he was fairly certain he failed miserably. "Hmm? Oh, nothing," he replied casually, trying to shrug it off as if it was no big deal. But the secret smile that tugged at his lips betrayed his nonchalance, and Alex could see right through it.

Alex’s eyebrow arched, a playful glimmer in her eyes as she observed Spencer's sudden burst of enthusiasm. She shook her head with a soft laugh, her amusement evident. But rather than dive into teasing him more, she let it slide, instead leaning back against the wall, folding her arms comfortably. 

Spencer, eager to steer the conversation away from the curious sparkle in her eyes, tilted his head. “When did you learn sign language?” he asked, genuinely curious. “I didn’t know you knew so much.”

Alex’s expression softened, the laughter fading into a more thoughtful smile. “A long time ago, actually,” she replied. “I took a linguistics course in grad school, and one of the areas we studied was American Sign Language. I found it fascinating—how rich and expressive it is. A completely visual language. So I kept learning, practiced with some Deaf friends. You know how it is—you start learning something new, and it just sticks.”

She paused for a moment, a fondness in her voice as she reflected on the skill she’d picked up so many years ago. “I haven’t had many opportunities to use it recently, though, so I was a bit rusty today. But I’m glad it came in handy.” She gave a small shrug as if it was no big deal, but Spencer could tell how much it meant to her to be able to communicate with you effectively.

“I’m impressed,” Spencer said earnestly. “It’s a beautiful language. I just wish I knew more of it. You made it look so easy today.”

Alex chuckled lightly, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, Spencer. You did fine. And besides, looks like you might have an excuse to practice now.” She shot him a knowing glance, and Spencer’s cheeks turned slightly pink as he glanced away, a small, bashful smile playing on his lips.

When Spencer returned home that night, his first instinct was to reach into his bag and pull out the book on American Sign Language he had impulsively picked up on his way home from the library. He settled down in his favorite chair, the worn fabric molding comfortably around him as he cracked open the first few pages. The textbook felt heavy in his hands, but the thrill of learning something new made his pulse quicken, the familiar rush of excitement he always felt when diving into a new subject.

He scanned the table of contents, eyes darting over the list of basics—alphabet, numbers, common phrases. His fingers itched to start signing immediately, but he forced himself to go slowly, knowing he’d need to cover the fundamentals before he could even think of diving into conversational fluency. Spencer read carefully, mouthing the words as he memorized the signs, occasionally raising a hand to test out the motions, his fingers forming the letters of the ASL alphabet with care.

Of course, he told himself, this sudden drive to learn had nothing to do with you. The way you had smiled so brightly when he’d attempted to sign, the warmth in your eyes as you’d encouraged his clumsy attempts—that had nothing to do with this. He’d probably never run into you again anyway, right? It was simply a practical skill, he reasoned, one that could serve him well in the field, and it was important to be able to communicate with anyone he might meet.

But as Spencer flipped through the pages, trying to imprint each sign in his memory, he couldn't ignore the flutter in his chest, the small hope that maybe, just maybe, he would see you again. And when that day came, he wanted to impress you—he wanted to sign your language, seamlessly and naturally, so you’d never feel that gap between spoken and signed words again. Deep down, Spencer knew that every sign he learned was a step closer to reaching out to you, to breaking the barrier that had momentarily stood between you both.

So he stayed up late that night, practicing the signs over and over, his fingers moving clumsily at first, but gradually gaining confidence. He covered the basics—the alphabet, greetings, simple phrases like “How are you?” and “Thank you.” And as he signed each one, his thoughts returned to the cafe, to the way you’d laughed so easily, the gentle curve of your hands as you’d signed back to him, your eyes filled with light.

—

"Hey, Alex," Spencer said as he slid up to the side of her desk, trying to sound casual, though the eagerness in his voice made it obvious he was anything but. His fingers tapped lightly against the edge of her desk, his eyes flickering between the book of ASL phrases he'd brought with him and Alex, who was typing away at her computer.

She glanced up, raising an eyebrow with an amused smirk. “Sure, Spencer,” she replied, leaning back in her chair. “Any particular reason you suddenly want to practice?” The corner of her mouth twitched upward knowingly, the hint of a teasing smile spreading across her face.

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he fumbled to keep the book tucked under his arm. “Uh, no,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant, though it came off a bit forced. “I mean, yes, but not really. It’s just, you know, important to be able to communicate in different ways. In case we... ever need it again for a case, or something like that.” He shrugged, but the movement was stiff, and Alex could see right through his excuses.

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, clearly not buying his half-hearted explanation. “Or something. And this doesn’t have anything to do with the woman we spoke to at the café?” Alex roughly signed while she spoke, just to throw a little more teasing into the mix.

Spencer gave a small, sheepish grin, one hand nervously brushing through his hair. “Well,” he admitted, his eyes darting to the side, “I guess it couldn’t hurt... to be more prepared. In case we see her again.” He paused before adding quickly, “Or anyone else who signs, of course.”

Alex chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Of course,” she said, still signing. “Alright, let's practice then. I could use the refresher myself.” She gestured for him to sit, setting aside her work, clearly delighted by this turn of events.

Spencer let out a small sigh of relief, and as he pulled up a chair beside her, he opened the book to the first page they would go over together. And as they began signing basic greetings back and forth, Spencer felt the nerves start to melt away, replaced by a renewed excitement. He knew that with every word he learned, he was one step closer to being able to speak directly to you, without stumbling or awkwardness—just him, hoping to meet you at your level.

—

It was a normal Wednesday morning, and as always, you found yourself waiting in line at your favorite coffee shop. This midweek pick-me-up was one of your cherished routines—a small way to break up the workweek and treat yourself before the daily grind. You'd been coming here for years, long enough that the staff knew your face and your order by heart, and they had long since adapted to your way of communicating. It always made the mornings smooth, familiar, and comforting.

When it was finally your turn, you stepped up to the counter, ready to place your usual order. The person in front of you had just moved to the side, waiting for their name to be called, and you reached into your bag to grab your wallet. But before you could even open it, you felt a gentle touch on your arm—enough to make you pause but soft enough not to startle. Confused, you turned around, and a smile broke across your face when you saw who it was.

There, standing right behind you, was the tall, familiar figure of Dr. Spencer Reid. His expression was open, friendly, his eyes crinkling slightly as he waved hello. You gave a small wave back, surprised and happy to see him again. But before you could say anything, his hands moved up, and he began signing, a little slowly but clearly: “I will pay.”

Your eyes widened in delighted surprise, and you couldn’t help the massive, toothy grin that spread across your face. You nodded, not even trying to hide your happiness, and as Spencer pulled out his billfold, you watched him confidently step up to the counter, ordering another drink for himself. 

As the barista rang up the total and handed back his change, you both made your way to the other side of the counter, where the barista would place your drinks once they were ready. Your smile was still stretched ear to ear, and as soon as you were both settled, you signed enthusiastically, “Thank you.” You put your whole heart into the sign, hoping to convey just how much you appreciated the gesture.

Spencer’s eyes lit up at your reaction, and though he was still learning, he carefully signed back, “You’re welcome.” He felt a swell of pride, not just because he'd gotten the sign right, but because it had earned him that big, radiant smile from you again—the one that made him feel like he'd just done something really, really right.

As you both waited for your drinks to be called, you found yourself eager to know more about him, about why he was here, and whether this coffee outing was as coincidental as it seemed.

With coffees in hand, Spencer gestured toward an open two-person table, and you both made your way over. The café was abuzz with the usual mid-morning activity—baristas calling out names, the hiss of espresso machines, and the chatter of other customers—but right now, your focus was entirely on the man sitting across from you. 

Once you were both seated, you set down your coffee and looked at him with a smile, your hands moving slowly, deliberately, as you signed, “How are you?”

Spencer's eyes lit up as he caught every sign. He felt a wave of excitement that he actually understood, and you could see how grateful he was that you had signed clearly and at a pace he could follow. He straightened up slightly, lifting his hands to respond, his movements a bit stiff but determined. “Good,” he signed, and then quickly followed up with, “And you?”

Your smile softened as you signed back, “Better now.” You made sure to sign gently, your hands moving with an easy grace, knowing that he was still learning. But Spencer’s expression immediately changed—he was concentrating, trying to decipher the exact meaning behind your words, a look of curiosity and a touch of self-doubt clouding his eyes. It was clear he was trying to figure out if you meant "better now" as in "better today" or "better in this moment."

The slight frustration on his face was endearing, and you watched as he quickly pulled out a pen and notebook from his bag, his fingers fumbling slightly in his hurry to communicate clearly. He scribbled a quick note, and then turned it to you, the question neatly written out in his careful handwriting: 

“Do you mean ‘now’ or ‘today’?”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you. It was a fair question—ASL could be nuanced, and for a new learner, the subtle differences in meaning could be confusing. You reached out to take the pen from his hand, your fingers brushing against his briefly, causing a light jolt of surprise for both of you. Spencer’s eyes flickered to your hand before looking back up at you, his cheeks tinged pink. 

You wrote carefully, making sure the message was clear: “Now :)”

When you passed the notebook back to him, Spencer read the word with a growing smile, feeling a sense of relief and happiness that you were, in fact, "better now"—because of this moment you were sharing together. He looked up at you with an almost shy grin, his eyes meeting yours with that same bright sincerity. And as you both sat there, sipping your coffee and smiling across the table, it felt like you had all the time in the world to learn each other's languages, one small step at a time.

Spencer set his coffee cup down on the table with a look of pure determination etched on his face. He met your eyes with an earnestness that made your heart skip a beat, and he began to stumble through a series of signs, his fingers moving with deliberate care. You could see how hard he was concentrating, his brow furrowed slightly as he tried to recall everything he'd studied, but it was clear that while his mind might know the signs, his hands were having a little more trouble putting them together smoothly.

His first sign came out awkwardly—he intended to sign "will," but you understood it as "future." You tilted your head slightly, a puzzled smile tugging at your lips as you tried to understand. Spencer, not realizing the mistake, nervously pressed on, clearly determined to get his message across. He paused for a moment, gathering his courage, and then signed "you," mouthing the word as he did. 

Your grin widened as you watched him, still a little confused by the context but so endeared by his effort. His eyes flickered up to yours, gauging your reaction, and you nodded in encouragement, waiting to see what he'd say next.

Spencer's fingers moved again, a little clumsier this time. "Go," he signed, and then followed it with "date." He paused, took a deep breath, and then finally added, “with me,” his eyes never leaving yours, as if afraid to miss your reaction. It was such a sweet attempt that you couldn’t help but smile brightly, warmth blooming in your chest as you realized what he was asking.

You quickly pieced together his intended message: he wanted to know if you would go on a date with him. Technically, Spencer should have signed "will" at the end, to clarify the question—since in ASL, that would have helped avoid any confusion about tense—but you didn’t care about the technicality. The effort he’d put into learning, and his shy, hopeful expression, meant so much more than getting the grammar perfect.

Nodding eagerly, you signed back “Yes” with enthusiasm, your hand moving quickly and brightly as your eyes locked with his. Spencer’s face broke into a relieved, overjoyed smile, his entire expression lighting up in a way that made you want to laugh with delight. 

And just like that, over two cups of coffee and a few imperfect signs, you found yourself agreeing to a date with Dr. Spencer Reid—the handsome, sweet, determined FBI agent who was willing to learn an entirely new language just to speak with you.

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[solmire]

Deaf!Gojo mourns his life before car crash.

He tries his best not to show it, especially to you. He knows he has every right to regret everything he missed during being able to hear, but you don’t deserve to watch him breaking apart, after all, this car accident brought you two together.

Satoru misses his favourite songs, tv shows, anime. But mostly he regrets not knowing how your voice sounds.

Sometimes you can reflexively start talking, forgetting that he lost ability to capture what you are trying to say. Satoru doesn’t stop just watches how your lips move with every word and sadness starts growing deeper in his chest.

He tries his best not to think very much of it, but the way the voice inside his head keeps stumbling over the words, the spelling is falling apart and he might forgot how some words are pronounced and heard, it’s all leaving him to suffer in the loneliness of his soul, watching how life keeps going without him, as if he is locked in the room full of mirrors and all that was left for him was to watch his suffering reflected in hundred mirrors.

‘Satoru, is everything okay?’ You signed during a dinner with him in your dorm. It’s an evening outside the window. The sun is slowly setting, and you notice how the rays of the sun are reflected in his eyes, the glow of his skin because of the sun shows his beauty in a full potential, scars are playing the role of accessories in his skin making him look younger than he is.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Satoru is accustomed to use voice while communicating with you. Sometimes he might miss the volume of his speech or the words are too slurred to understand. But you understand him. Always.

‘You aren’t even paying attention to our dialogue! Does your head hurts? Maybe we need to see your doctor?’ You signed, this time also saying every sentence out loud.

“Do you regret being with me?” His posture started to change. Satoru doesn’t meet your eyes, keeps scratching something on your floor, he moves his legs closer to his torso, silently putting his hoodie over his knees. Eyes are glued to the hole on your floor, as if it has all answers to his questions.

You are not sure what to say sign, especially when he’s not looking at you. So that’s why you are moving closer to him, lifting his chin up so he has no choice but to look straight at your eyes.

Satoru is waiting for you to sign something, but instead you move even closer to his face, noses slightly brushing, and his lips are parted waiting for your next step.

And you don’t let him wait too long, making your way to his lips. The kiss is full of immaturity and inexperience, even though it’s not your first kiss, every time it feels like it is.

Satoru puts down his knees, pushing you right onto his lap. Hands are trembling because of the overstimulation he is going through.

Everything is too much for him. Your scent takes over his olfactory receptors, as if trying to enter his bloodstream and circulate throughout his body, making it think that you are the only thing he is allowed to have in life. And he doesn’t mind it.

Lack of air lead you both to pull away. You feel the heat on your face, fingers slightly shaking be the intensity of emotions. ‘Satoru, there will never be a day, when I regret being with you. You are my love, my everything, and I will do anything for you. I love you’.

You watch how your vulnerability reflects with his in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say anything but nothing is coming out. Therefore, he is going to sign something back, but he doesn’t do it either. Instead he pulls you in a tight hug.

“I believe you, my love. I love you too”.

And none of you question the lie he is trying to pass off as the truth. You just hug him back fighting the urge to cry. Not here, not when he is watching. He holds you tightly trying to help not to fall apart because of the damage he caused.

You know the ending you are going to get.

masterlist first second

Oh my goood, it’s almost 4am in my town. I am suffering from sickness an I need to prepare for my finals. I will proofread it in the morning, sorry my lovely readers.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

I See You - Eddie Munson X GN (Deaf) Reader

Title: I See You

Eddie Munson X GN (Deaf) Reader

Additional Characters: Mostly random teens, along with random "friends" Terri and Stancy-Ann

Requested by: Anon!

WC: 2,794

Warnings: Teens talking behind Reader's back briefly, Reader is mentioned to be an outcast, teens being jerks, Eddie the Protector, nicknames, mentions of drugs briefly, teasing, flirting, slight angst, and fluff

You were so tired. Tired of people... And of the world really. It was like the whole world was against you sometimes, making it impossible to be anything more than an outsider, an outcast. You were deaf, unable to hear, but you did have hearing aids that did allow you to hear when you wore them. But sometimes you just didn't want to hear. Your so-called "friends" would always grow so irritated when you didn't want to wear your hearing aids, or when you simply wanted someone to repeat what they had said; people alway made it seem like it was so much work and trouble just to repeat themselves.

“But, I was thinking we should start the presentation with the history of Einstein before we go into his theory-” Terri spoke, only for Stacy-Ann to interrupt her.

“You mean his life, not his history,” She said, “I mean, really, Terri.”

You blinked as they continued to fight on whether or not to have Einstein’s important life events listed out in red ink or blue, but as their conversation veered onto Einstein’s theory of relativity, you found yourself confused… What did they just say?

“Uh, Stacy-Ann, could you repeat that, please?” You asked, your own purple pen, that you had borrowed from Terri pausing on your index cards. 

Both Terri and Stacy-Ann had turned to look at you before glancing at one another, and scoffing.

“Well, you should have been paying attention, Y/N.” Terri spoke, “We’ve said it, like, twice.”

You blinked rapidly, clearing your throat, “Well, I just missed what you had said. Could you please repeat what you said?”

Terri stared at you, as if what you had asked was dumb before she shook her head, turning down at her own notes. “No, I don’t want to repeat myself. It’s your fault for not hearing me the first time.”

Sometimes you wondered if they were even your friends at all. They would end up ignoring you, not wanting to be around you sometimes. Well, you didn’t need them. You had your boyfriend, Eddie.

Eddie Munson was also an outcast like you. He was different from anyone you had ever met. He was eccentric, loyal, and kind. A nonconformist with a heart of gold. Whenever you were with him, it was like the world was on pause, frozen. Everything seemed to fade out and disappear, leaving just the two of you. When you were sad, he would make you smile again; effortlessly with his charm, jokes, smile. He understood you and made you feel seen and heard. He loved you. He had told you so many times before, he had written it down so many times - pieces of notebook paper scrawled with his penmensip - that you knew he meant every word. He had even brought up the idea of matching tattoos once when the both of you were in his room in the trailer, staring up at his ceiling, hands clasped together as you lay side by side.

Spring break was coming fast, like tomorrow fast, and Eddie was going to some bonfire party, that some other high schoolers were having, to sell his merchandise. You had always felt so out of place in large groups of people, feeling ignored, leaving you bored and rather lonely. Eddie also knew that you disliked parties, so he told you that he’d understand if you would want to stay home, but you didn't want to be alone at home waiting for him, so you decided to come along; as long as you were with Eddie, you’d feel at ease. You did have to admit though, as you walked hand in hand with Eddie towards the bonfire, that you were happy to get out of the house, get some fresh air, and spend more time with Eddie that wasn’t at school, your place, or his. 

And everything was going pretty well, the music was pulsing loudly through the boombox, the deep beats reverberating through the ground at your feet and where you sat on a fallen log. Eddie sat beside you, arm over your shoulder as you both stared at the large fire, his small tin sitting between his feet as he waited for the business to come rolling in. 

"Nice night," Eddie began, his hand coming up to rub up and down your arm gently - instantly warming you up as a slight breeze flew by and chilled the both of you. "Cold night, but nice." He finished, dropping his arm to take off his jacket to wrap it around your shoulders before returning his arm around you, showing off the Metallica band t-shirt that he was wearing; which was a gift from you. 

Breathing in the scent of musky amber, combined with vanilla - and a hint of weed and leather - which wafted off of his leather jacket in waves; comforting, "Yeah this is nice." You spoke softly, watching as about a dozen or so teens danced, drank, or just sat by the fire talking to friends. 

"I'm glad you came with me," Eddie then spoke up, nudging his nose against your temple, making you look up at him, seeing the smile on his face, "I know how much you hate parties but this party would’ve been such a dud without you."

"Yeah, but it’s… Enjoyable with you." You answered, smiling sweetly at him as you turned your head to kiss his cheek lightly. Your eyes glanced at the fire for a few moments before looking back up at Eddie again, taking note of the way he stared at you. It wasn't the first time he'd looked at you that way, the way that made you feel special, desired, and wanted... It still made you flush. But this time something about his expression made you feel slightly nervous - in a good way. "What is it?" You asked softly, having a feeling that Eddie had something on his mind.

His brown eyes shifted from your eyes, down to your lips before back up, "Nothing. Nothing important, just... Just thinking. It’s just… You’re so bewitching." He replied, leaning closer to you as if he couldn't help himself, his warm breath fanning across your face as his gaze continued to travel down to your lips, which were parted slightly, waiting for him to kiss you... 

“Bewitching?” You muttered, your heart warming as your face flushed, “I’m bewitching?”

“Absolutely, babe. You’ve spellbound me.” He pulled you closer to him, finally leaning in, his eyelids drooping; his lips just a breath away from yours... Until...

"Hey! Munson!" Someone yelled out, interrupting both you and the young man in question as he pulled back and let out an irritated, dramatic sigh, snapping his head towards the teen who called out to him.

"Duty calls." You muttered sadly as Eddie nodded, running a hand through his hair before he grabbed his tin.

"Yeah, but don't think this is over. I plan to kiss the crap out of you when I return," He teased, pointing a finger at you before gently booping your nose as he stood from the log, "Later~" He added, winking, before heading into the throngs of teenagers with his usual avant-garde stride. You watched him go, letting out a dreamy sigh before staring back into the fire - which flickered dangerously - knowing that Eddie would keep his promise and come right back.

Even though you did still feel a bit uneasy, you were actually enjoying yourself, staring at the large bonfire, warmed by it and Eddie's jacket around you. Though, there was this tingling in your mind, that something was going to go wrong, that someone was going to say something or do something, like always, and ruin your happiness. You were getting used to the feeling, the paranoia, which frustrated you deeply. You hated this town, you hated the people in this crappy town, you hated everything except Eddie. Sometimes you wished that after graduation, you and Eddie could just ride off in his van into the sunset.

"Why are they here?" You then heard, snapping you out of your thoughts as a small group of people began to talk near you, "I thought they couldn't hear the music?"

Yeah, they were talking about you.

"They have hearing aids, idiot." Another one spoke, clearly not caring if you could hear them. "Just ask them."

"Ask them what?" Came a third voice, one sounding already irritated, crossing their arms and pivoting their weight to the side. "I don’t want to talk to them."

“Yeah,” The first teen spoke, “They hang out with that freak Munson. They’re probably a demon worshiper too.”

That last comment caught your attention, causing your head to snap up as you focused your eyes on the three teenagers. Your blood was boiling, no one talked like that about Eddie, he wasn’t a freak. What jerks.

You rose quickly, speeding past the trio and right towards Eddie. You wanted to leave, but you didn't want to ruin any business for him, or ruin any of the possible fun that he might have been having. So you kept walking, and only when your arms were able to loop around his, did you finally let go of the large breath you didn't know that you were holding in your lungs.

The moment your arm looped around his, Eddie turned his head, looking down at you. At your frown, he frowned as well. "What's wrong, babe?" His tone sounded concerned, his attention moving away from the potential customer in front of him.

Your body stiffened instantly, but slightly, as your eyes moved downcast momentarily before you looked into his chocolate brown eyes; the color practically drowning you in warmth and comfort, "I missed you." You said simply, and though your words were sweet, Eddie saw past them, he heard, and saw the emotion behind them.

Eddie hummed, turning to the teenager, "If you'll excuse me."

"Hey, freak!" The teen exclaimed as you and Eddie moved to turn and leave, "I thought we had a deal here?"

Eddie turned sharply, "Deal's off." Before he turned once more and began leading you to the van.

"Deal's off? Why? You need to go babysit them!?" The teen yelled out, gaining some other's attention as Eddie froze in place. 

You held onto Eddie's arm, your fingers clutching onto his skin, probably painfully, but Eddie didn't seem to notice or care as he stared daggers into the teen's head. Your free hand by your side clenched into a tight fist, your nails creating crescent moon-shaped creases into your palm before you quickly reached up and took out your hearing aids. 

For a moment, as you closed your eyes, you could feel at peace, unable to hear anything as the crowd around you faded away, leaving you to pretend that you were anywhere else. It wasn't until you opened your eyes again, blinking slowly as the bright crescent moon's beams filtered in between the leaves above you that you realized you were still in the same spot where Eddie had frozen.

You could see that he was speaking, animatedly, a dark grin on his lips as he spoke to the teen. Before you knew it, Eddie had slipped away from you, almost prancing around his new prey, a hop in his step as the teen stood, wary and unknowing of Eddie's next move. 

Though Eddie was clearly intimidating the teen, you couldn't help but admire how Eddie held himself: tall, broad shoulders, strong and powerful arms, a confident smirk on his lips as he continued to speak, his dark hair falling forward, his bangs brushing against his dark eyebrows as he tilted his head side to side, almost badgering. You had always admired how protective Eddie could be, always going out of his way to make sure you were alright, not afraid to tell others off for their behavior towards you. 

You weren't exactly sure how long you stayed there, standing, observing, just drinking in the sight of Eddie before you; trying to process all that you were seeing. It wasn't until you felt a soft tug on your hand, pulling you from your trance, that you realized that Eddie was done and the teen was out of sight.

You watched his lips move, forming your name before he continued with what you were sure was, "Let's go home." And with that said, he guided you back to the van, keeping close, watching over you.

The ride back to his trailer was silent, for you, your hearing aids carefully placed away in a small, green carrying case that you always carried with you. Again, sitting in the van, feeling the soft rumbling as Eddie drove over pebbles and a small hole in the road, you slipped your eyes shut. And again, you felt at peace, unable to hear the world, and finally, you allowed your body to relax into the plush passenger seat of the van; totally exhausted. 

With the soft touch of Eddie's calloused hand wrapping around one of yours, you opened your eyes, turning your head to see that gentle smile of his. Slowly, your eyes softened, and you smiled back, lacing your fingers with his, and giving his hand a comforting squeeze; one that silently told him that you were okay. With your free hand, you reached over and gently ran your hand along the side of his face, brushing his long, curly hair behind his ear, smiling even wider as he leaned into your touch; closing his eyes, nuzzling against your hand as he seemed to melt instantly into your touch. Bewitched.

It was like you were a part of a zoetrope, capturing each and every scene in front of you. There was an innocence in that moment, a quiet joy. It reminded you of those moments spent together when you were both younger, just Freshmans. Those little times where you would sit and watch TV or the times when you and Eddie would go out adventuring through the woods. Where just being around each other was enough to calm the chaos inside your mind. Those moments where you felt like you were seen. Eddie understood you. No one else ever did. He saw you. He saw you.

"I'm sorry, babe," You heard Eddie say as you placed your empty case on his cluttered bedside table.

Turning, you huffed, laying upon Eddie's bed, tugging the old quilt that your grandmother made over your shoulder; staring over at him. "Sorry for what, Eddie Spaghetti?" You asked him, taking his hand into yours, palm to palm, fingers lanced.

He shrugged lightly, shifting closer, his brows furrowed slightly as he searched your eyes, his own filled with an unknown look. "It was a stupid idea to go to that party. I didn’t have to go." He spoke quietly, as he stroked your knuckles softly. "I shouldn't have forced you to come."

You shook your head, "No, Eds, you didn't force me. You asked, and I agreed to come with you."

A small sigh left his lips, "I know. But, I still feel bad. I mean, the way that he was talking about you..." Eddie exhaled through his nose, "I really wanted to punch him."

"Really?" You questioned him, raising your brows, surprised, a hint of amusement present in your voice as you gave him a teasing grin. "Well, I'll have you know, that while you were telling him off, I thought you looked metal."

The look of surprise on Eddie's face quickly morphed into a sly smirk as he grinned at you, "Oh really?"

"Mhm." You nodded, smiling as you pulled your hands back to slide them around his neck, the tips of your fingers brushing through his hair lightly. "I love that you protect me, you know?" You added, tilting your head slightly, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"You think I'd ever let anyone hurt you?" Eddie replied, pulling you even closer to him, letting his arms circle your waist.

Your cheeks flushed, and a small laugh escaped your lips as your hands slid down his shoulders to rest on his chest. You lifted your gaze to meet his, softly nudging your forehead against his, "No." You whispered, "With you, I feel safe... I feel seen."

That's all it took for Eddie to pull you tightly to him, his nose gently brushing against yours, his hands soothingly rubbing up and down your back as his bangs tickled your face. "I see you..." Eddie whispered against your lips, his words causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach, sending shivers down your spine, and causing heat to fill your stomach.

You could feel yourself leaning in, your lips hovering right over Eddie's, only a few centimeters apart, before you spoke, "I see you too."

---

Main Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

[tttabii]

— 심재윤 PUPPLY LOVE JAKE SIM X READER

note: slightly inspired by the kdrama twinkling watermelon. deaf!reader x band!jaeyun. word count: 6989

YOU NEVER REALLY ENJOYED THE SILENCE.

It was not like the romanticized kind of peace and quiet that people post to social media about—the kind that makes mornings sacred, the bookstore magical, and so on. Yours was a silence of absence. Of being out of the conversation. Out of the laughter. And perhaps out of safety, too.

You wore your wired earphones all the time, plugged in or not, as if to pretend you were wearing headphones. A barrier. A disguise. If they don't know, maybe they won't treat you differently. Maybe they won't feel sorry for you—or even worse, take advantage.

Like today.

The station buzzed with the evening rush hour, people moving in concert. You dropped your Mofusand keychain without noticing it, your little plush figure falling silently to the ground behind you while you swept away to the exit. You didn't hear the boy calling your name behind you.

Jake Sim bent down to pick up the keychain, only halfway smiling. He always noticed you—your neat little bun, the way your bangs framed your face, somehow, as always, looking calm. But when you didn't turn around, and he kept calling, his smile dropped entirely.

You were already gone.

He got off at the same stop. He always did. His house was near yours, and he'd long memorized the timing of your routine—not in a creepy way, but in that soft, teenage "I-like-you-so-I-notice-everything" kind of way.

But today was different. You weren't just walking ahead of him like usual. You'd vanished.

Then he heard it—laughter, too loud and too cruel—coming from an alley just a little ways off the main road. Jake's steps slowed. Something twisted in his stomach.

And then he saw you.

Your tote bag lay discarded on the pavement. Your damaged earphones dangled from it, useless. One girl held your arms back while a few boys circled, sneering and taunting. One of them reached for your skirt.

You screamed, but no one heard. Or at least, they pretended not to.

Jake did.

He didn't think twice. He was screaming before he even landed on the ground. "Hey! Get away from her!"

The group jumped at his voice, turning to see him shove the guy who was closest to you. He didn't look intimidating, but he had fire in his eyes—rage, protective and desperate.

"You think this is funny?!" he yelled, fists clenched. "She can't hear you, you assholes."

The girl was startled and released her hold on you. You stumbled forward, unconsciously falling into Jake's arms before even registering who he was. "It's okay, I got you," he said softly, wrapping his arms around you. "You're safe now."

You blinked up at him feeling a little disoriented, as tears streamed down your face. He made sure you were looking at his face, looking at the way his mouth moved. You're safe. Over and over, he said it, huge exaggerated mouth movements for you to see.

You nodded your head.

He pulled off his jacket and put it around your shoulders, very gingerly picked up your bag, and then the keychain he never got the chance to give back to you.

He held your hand in his, and walked the rest of the way to the café, not letting go.

Jake didn't lose his grip on you, not once—certainly not when you turned the corner toward the café, and not when you paused at the door, nor when you let your gaze fall in embarrassment, as if what had transpired earlier was somehow your fault.

He saw it all: the way you scrunched your shoulders inward; how your other hand trembled just enough for your fingers to twitch as if they were still recalling someone else's grip. He felt his heart ache.

The café door opened with a gentle ring.

"She's here," Jake said, quietly addressing the owner, an older, kind-faced man who had been washing mugs at the counter, who quickly emerged looking worried. "Something happened."

Jake described what he had seen, in low but steady tones, noting how he saw everything happen at once, but wanting to reassure you that you hadn't done anything wrong. The man's jaw clenched, briefly, and without a moment of thought he encircled you into a fathering hug. You didn't cry (perhaps because you were numb, or maybe you didn't want to collapse toward the ground in public), but you did keep your hand at the back of the owner's apron a touch longer than you might normally.

"She's off the clock today," the owner said with a determined nod.

"No—hold on," Jake interrupted, gently laying your backpack down. "Let her rest. I'll do her job today. I know how she makes the drinks—I've watched her for weeks." He smiled faintly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just until she's feeling okay. She can still get paid, right?"

The owner of the shop blinked, and then slowly broke into a chuckle. "You're her boyfriend?"

Jake's ears turned bright pink. "N-No—! I mean—not yet. I just... I like her. A lot."

The owner smiled and slapped him on the back. "You should be. She could really use someone like you. Her parents... they try. They're overseas, doing everything they can to try to get her hearing or at least set her up for a future. But, it's hard. She has always been alone."

That truth settled hard in Jake's chest like lead.

You were now sitting quietly at one of the tables near the window, an iced tea in front of you. Your fingers were twisted around the straw, and you were biting gently at the end—not even drinking it, just grounding yourself. Jake could not take his eyes off you.

"Can you help me talk to her?" He asked the owner.

The owner nodded, walking over and motioning to you in sign. You looked up slowly.

He wants to talk to you, the owner signed. He wants to ask if you're sure you're okay.

Jake stepped forward, gingerly placing your keychain on the table in front of you. "You dropped this," he said softly, hoping his eyes said what his words might not yet.

Your gaze fell to the little Mofusand plush, and for a moment, your lip trembled. You reached out, brushing your fingers over it before finally looking up at him, your eyes glassy with unspoken emotion.

Jake knelt down a little so he was at your level, then he looked at the owner to assist him. The owner translated again when Jake spoke:

"I'm sorry. I didn't understand what you were going through. But I understand now. And it won't ever happen again. Ever."

You stared at him for a moment, taken aback by the sincerity in his tone. And then you nodded slowly. Just once. A small, trembling movement—but Jake saw it. And that meant everything.

He smiled, a little sheepishly. "Teach me?" he said. "Sign language."

You blinked. And for the first time all day, the corners of your lips turned up into a tiny smile.

That was the day Jake Sim became your safe place.

The next day, the air was cool but soft, and the sun bathed the quiet streets in gold patch after gold patch. You had your tote bag slung across your shoulder again, earbuds tucked in—not that they worked anymore, but they were still your shield from the world.

Then you felt a tap on your shoulder that was gentle. You turned to find Jake there, smiling like he'd been waiting for you. He offered up a small notepad filled with floating letters and words, neatly written: "Can I walk with you to school and the train? My school is nearby too."

You blinked with a warm heart at his kind day one open act of friendship. You nodded, one of those slow nods. He smiled like you had just agreed to jump out of an airplane.  

As the two of you strolled toward the train station, your steps side by side, students passing by whispered. Most of them were from his school, and they gawked quietly, muttering things like:

"Isn't that Jake Sim? The golden retriever from photography club?"

"He is walking her to school!"

"She's...the deaf girl, right?"

"She's really pretty though...I've never seen him with anyone before."

Jake didn't flinch. He didn't even glance their way. He was too focused on walking at your pace, occasionally scribbling things in his notepad to make you laugh or smile. You didn't need to hear it—his energy alone made you feel it. Safe. Seen.

At school, you waved goodbye, not expecting anything more. But Jake lingered, watching you disappear through the school gates, heart fluttering just like it did the first time he saw you—sitting in that café, headphones in, quietly brewing drinks with a focus and grace that pulled him in completely.

That afternoon Jake went back to his school, completed some light club duties, but mostly just carried around his camera for no real reason. Something felt off. Maybe it was you. He realized you hadn't yet shown up to the station.

Curious—and maybe a tiny bit worried—he decided he would check up on you. It wasn't as if he hadn't done it before. The front desk lady at your school blinked at him when he said: "I'm her friend. I came to take her home. I think she has after school activities?"

She nodded, "Art club today. Top floor."

So he went up the stairs, camera bouncing against his chest as he went, to peek into the art room. The door creaked gently as he walked in—and there you were. The room was filled with the smells of acrylic paint and pencil shavings, and late sunlight poured in across rows of stools and canvases.

You were at your usual spot, back to the door, anxiously brushing color onto a canvas.

And then he saw it. Jake almost gasped. 

It was him. Your painting—there was no doubt about it—you had painted him. His hair, his smile, even the soft blur of light behind him as if caught in one of his own photos. You were painting him from memory.

Although a voice next to him startled him. "She only draws real people when they make her feel safe," your art teacher said, smiling knowingly. "Or when they have made contact with her heart."

Jake couldn't move for a second, his eyes glued on your concentrated state, brow slightly scrunched as you made soft strokes of light across the painting's cheek bones. You hadn't noticed him yet. But his heart was already full.

Jake's cheeks burned the split second your teacher asked, "Are you her boyfriend?"

He blinked, eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar as he clearly had not processed the question. His ears turned a deep pink, then red. He looked every bit the golden retriever boy everyone called him—loyal, soft-hearted, but now flustered beyond belief.

Your teacher beamed with understanding, as if she already seen through him. "You're someone she needs in her life" she said gently, watching the way his eyes never left your body. "A puppy always following her trail. I'm sure she'll accept you as her boyfriend if she decides to give in. It's hard for a deaf person to open up—they often think they're a burden." 

The words echoed in Jake's mind.

Is that why... she always keeps to herself? Is that why she hides so much of her pain?

Suddenly, everything clicked. The reason why your earphones were always in. The reason why you trembled a little whenever they got torn. The reason why you looked away whenever people stared too long. And maybe the reason why he felt the urge to protect you.

Your teacher smiled at him one last time before walking toward you, softly signing that Jake was here to pick you up. You blinked, surprised, instinctively turning around—and immediately tried to cover your painting with a cloth. Jake's heart leaped when your eyes met his, so wide with embarrassment.

The painting was covered, but the color in your cheeks said enough.

Across the room, a couple of girls not in the deaf program whispered just loud enough for Jake to hear as he approached. "She probably blackmailed him or something. No way Jake Sim's into her."

"Yeah, she can't even talk to him. Poor guy's probably just being nice."

Jake stopped in his tracks, turning to them. The smile faded from his face. His usual soft features sharpened, eyes narrowing, jaw tight. "Do you talk about everyone like this, or just girls who are better than you?"

The girls flinched, going quiet immediately.

He didn't say anything more, just turned his back to them and walked towards you, softly touching your arm. You looked up, blinked several times, and still holding the bag with shy fingers.

And then Jake smiled, and all the warmth came back to his smile. He pulled out his notepad and wrote, "You don't need to hide the painting. I'm really honored, you know."

You flushed deeper and looked away, biting your lip before grabbing your bag and following him out. You didn't sign anything, but he didn't mind. Your presence was enough.

The train ride to the coffee shop was quiet but not uncomfortable. Jake stood beside you, and every time the train shifted, his fingers brushed against yours. You seemed far away, a little off, fidgeting with your mad respect—twisting your sleeves, adjusting the strap of your tote, nibbling at your bottom lip.

Jake could tell your head was spinning; probably about the painting and probably about him. So, he wrote on his notepad again, folding the edge of the page and tearing it off; then, when you both were standing, waiting for the train at the platform, he slowly slipped the note into your palm.

You opened it slowly.  

"I like you. I really, really like you. You're not a burden. You're the most peaceful part of my day."

You stared at the words, unmoving.

And when you looked up—he was already smiling at you, waiting patiently.

Jake wasn't in a hurry. He let you lower your walls slowly inch by inch—in the right way, and never pushed and always patient.

The first time you took his pen and wrote:"But I only met you two days ago."

He just smiled and ruffled your hair a bit, and then wrote,"I've been watching you for months. I just never had the guts."

Your cheeks were hot and you just nodded, speechless and your words gotten stuck somewhere in your throat. But Jake could see from your eyes that you were curious, maybe even hopeful.

But you were scared too.  

Jake understood. Maybe you wanted him to court you. Maybe you just needed more time. Maybe both.

At the coffee shop, and on your break, you sat across from him and taught him one word at a time in sign language—your fingers moving slow and patient, your lips formed the words even though sounds did not come out. You wrote each of these on to his note pad, carefully.

He continued to clap along and began to nod his head, with his golden retriever grin.You handed him your personal sign language book—its pages creased and full of your tiny notes. It was your most treasured learning tool, and you were giving it to him. His heart soared.

He kept it close, even brought it to school.

The next day, he was surrounded by his rowdy friend group.

"Why're you reading that?" Heeseung asked, eyes wide.

Jay snatched the book before Jake could answer, flipping through. "Is this sign language?"

Sunghoon raised a brow. "Wait—you're learning for her?"

Jake just nodded. Calm and proud, "Yeah. I'm learning for her."

The teasing came immediately, all of it lighthearted.

"Jake's whipped."

"Our golden retriever's got a muse!"

"Is this why you skipped violin club?"

He only smiled, never denying it. He was smitten.

So when people said rude stuff about you—he would not stand for it. His regular soft energy evaporated in minutes, mass cold stares, tight jaws, eyes sharp. Even when girls tried to flirt with him, he just waved them off and said coolly, "I'm busy studying."   Outside of that, Jake's world exploded with new creative energy.He was in a band with Heeseung, Jay, Sunghoon, Jungwon, Sunoo, and their junior, Nishimura Riki—a dreamy transfer prodigy guy from Japan with the softest smile and killer dance skills.

Jake played bass, rapped, danced—and was now writing a song.

About you. 

A soft acoustic ballad done with warmth and tenderness. He practiced alone in his room, kind of singing quietly and strumming, he practiced the sign language version in front of him mirror.He had some day to play it for you, in your language.

Meanwhile in your world, you also seemed to be sketching Jake in your notebook more often than not. His profile face, his smile, and the way he tucked his hair behind his ears when he really concentrated. You wrote about him too—his gentleness, his presence.

You would wander the city on your walks, peering into hole-in-the-wall shops, hunting for something that would make you think of him. Something like a keychain. Or a pin that looked like a camera. It could be anything small—but meaningful.

You wanted to give him something. Not because he was your boyfriend—but because he was your safe place. Your one person who made you feel seen.

One day, while you were both taking your break, he started to sign. Not perfectly—but enough to get it. You were stunned.

He signed, "I want to learn more. From you."

You smiled. Softly. Slowly. It was shy. And when he lifted his camera to take a picture of you sipping your iced tea, you did not look away this time. You let him take that picture. He already knew how you despised coffee—it upset your stomach.

You loved tea. It calmed you down.

He knew you loved hotteok and cherries. Especially cherries. The way the red stained your lips made him feel like he was losing his mind—but he behaved himself every time he came over to your house. It was so big and empty—but your room? It was cozy, warm, and you. Hello Kitty plushies, small pop mart figurines, your favorite pieces of art and prints. 

He belonged there, in your quiet world. He just didn't know yet—you were slowly, silently drawing him into it.

────୨ৎ────

Jake was down bad. Whipped. Head over heels. The whole damn fairy-tale-boyfriend-package without the title. He found out about the talent show—basically an annual spring festival for his school, where everyone else can come too including students from other campuses.

Perfect timing.

Time to make a move.

He would ask you to come the day before the concert. Right after exams. Right when you needed a break, and when he was finally ready to show you the song that he had put his entire heart into, in your language.

But in the meantime?Jake was going through it.He brought you iced tea every morning, sliding it across your desk without a word with a shy grin and a wink, and it still felt cold from the little cooler bag he would carry it in.

He literally walked into your school to do this, even when people would stare. Even when whispers would start.His friends, of course, never let him forget it.

"You're joking."

"I cannot believe you are rejecting girls who are literally goddess tier, for a girl that hasn't even kissed you yet."

"Jake. You're gone. So gone."

"She didn't even look at you today and you are still simping."

Jake? Unfazed. Loyal. Whipped. "She's worth it." was all he said. 

There were times during the midterms that you hardly glanced at him, eyes glued to the drowning darkness of your books with highlighters smudged across your fingers, your sketchpad nowhere near you. Jake sat beside you, bravely not taking it personally.

You were stressed out. You needed your space, he got it.

But he couldn't help but wonder— Did you even like him back, or was he just your sweet loyal friend?

He didn't know that you sketched him. That your journal had pages and pages all about him. That you were just too shy—too much of a jumble of feelings and everything you wanted to say but couldn't find the words if you tried.

Sometimes he'd talk to you softly next to you while you worked, knowing you would never hear it, but needed to say it anyway.

"I like you so much, it hurts."

"I want to kiss you but I know you're not ready."

"You make me want to be soft forever."

You never noticed. But it was okay, because it made him feel better. Like saying it out loud, meant it wasn't just sitting there bottled up inside him.

One day, you were outside and saw a cat on the street, and you got all sparkly-eyed, and you crouched down and reached your hand out. 

Jake panicked.

"No—no no no—don't touch it! It's probably dirty, baby—like...not safe!"

You blinked, lips slightly pursed in a pout.

He cracked instantly.

The next day he brought you to a cat café instead. Reserved a table and everything. Bought you a slice of strawberry shortcake too. You left with cat fur on your clothes and the softest smile he'd ever seen.

He was awkward with cats, being a dog lover instead but he wanted to see your cute little smile when you cradle the cat close to your chest as if it was your own child.

But now? During midterms? You barely had time to breathe. Jake didn't blame you. But the distance... it scared him. Had he moved too fast? Were you pulling away?

He had no idea.

You were just trying to get through the week—exams, art deadlines, pressure. What you did know, though, was that Jake still showed up with iced tea. That he still waited outside your school gate after your last class. That he still sat beside you, head tilted, watching you with soft eyes even when you didn't say much.

And that meant everything.

────୨ৎ────

Jake was losing it. Exams were finally over.

The festival was days away. He had been looking forward to asking you to come and see him perform his song—a song about you, for you.

Now? You were fawning all over Woo Do-hwan on the screen. Jake was standing behind the couch, arms crossed but one arm inconveniently draping over your shoulder as if he were laying claim to it (not that he would ever say that).

You, on the other hand, were way too busy staring at the TV, all curled up in an oversized shirt that, in Jake's opinion, practically slid off your shoulder leaving just enough for your bra strap to be visible that was slowly driving him crazy.

You were eating cherries. The juice had once again stained your lips and Jake was sweating his pants off, he knew he was going to lose his mind.Then it got worse.

A scene came on—the scene—where the male lead pulled the girl into his lap and kissed her like the world was ending.(His world was in-fact ending.)  You were biting your lip, staring with your big, dreamy eyes, and Jake? Jake couldn't move. He was going back and forth between the screen and you.

Your shirt falling off. Your lips bright red. Your eyes sparkling. Your soft little sigh. That lip nibble.

With every breath in his chest, Jake leaned just a little, the front of his t-shirt brushed softly over the back of your head. He whispered, "Do you want that too?"

You didn't respond because you clearly couldn't hear him. You were still watching, unaware of how tense he'd gone behind you, his jaw clenched, his breath shaky. He looked like he was thinking—deeply. The kind of thinking that could make or break everything.

You turned your head a little, craning your neck to look at him, lips parted in curiosity. He immediately collected himself and smiled, signing something with his free hand as the other rested on your shoulder. "You really like him that much?"

You grinned, shy but excited, and nodded.

He rolled his eyes and gave you an incredulous look before signing: "He's not real. I am."

You blinked. A little caught off guard.

And then he signed again.

"Come to the festival."

You tilted your head, confused.

He picked up the pen and notepad from the coffee table—thankfully still nearby—and scribbled it down.

Come to my school's festival next weekend. Please? I want to show you something. Something just for you.

You read it. Looked at him. Then nodded slowly, chewing on a cherry while giving him that small, sweet smile that made him feel like his ribs might crack open from the pressure of loving you so much.

He smiled back and signed softly: "Good. It's a date."

Your eyes widened. He winked. Then he went to finish folding your laundry—like the golden retriever boyfriend-in-waiting he was—while trying very hard not to think about you in that oversized shirt... or Woo Do-hwan stealing your attention.

It was supposed to be the perfect day. Jake had left early that morning, and kissed your forehead with the softest kiss, and quickly signed to you with that big goofy grin of his.

"Wear something pretty. I'll be waiting."

He was so excited. The band was excited. All his friends, hyping him up to no end, joking about how happy he looked.

Jake, the cool, charming, calm one who never looked sad, couldn't stop smiling. He had practiced and practiced the song.

He had perfected every single chord. He had memorized every single sign. But more importantly, he had practiced how he was going to express that.

This song was for you. You were the girl he adored. The one who changed his outlook on the world. But you never showed up.

Your outfit was ready. Hair brushed, makeup done with care, your fingers trembling slightly in excitement. You clutched the cherry blossom pin he gave you once—nervous but happy.

Until it came.

A folded note slipped into your bag, probably by one of those girls. Written in harsh, angry ink.

"Isn't it a shame that he's basically using you for pity points? Everybody's going to crack up when they see you sitting there and watching him put on a fake show about being sad over some love song just to get attention. You're deaf, sweetie. He doesn't want you. He only wants the applause."

You looked at it for what felt like hours, then reread it. The lights inside your chest went out. You flickered the last little bit of hope away. You stood alone in your hallway with a promise you dressed up as a dream and felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.

Jake walked out onto the stage, guitar in hand, the other boys were setting up beside him. His heart rate was out of control—not from nerves, but from hope. He looked at your seat.

Front row. Reserved with your name written in pink cursive and a little cat sticker.

Empty.

And the spotlight was focused right there. Still empty.

He blinked once. Hard. Maybe you were just late? He cleared his throat and lifted the microphone to his mouth. "I... um," he started, letting out an nervous chuckle. "This song is really personal. I wrote it... for someone really special to me."

The crowd cooed. A few phones went up. 

"She's not here yet, but I really hope she shows up. She's the reason I learned to hear.... even if it's silence."

He stopped. Then added, softly, hands shaking just a bit— "And if you are watching this later... well, I want you to know that I meant every part of this. This is for you."

Then, the music started, and he sang and signed—at once.

You didn't see it.

You were standing out in the rain, your cute outfit wet and clinging to your body, cuddled up in front of that little flower shop you both went to once.

The shop with the baby's breath and the soft pink carnations he helped you pick. You stood blankly looking at the window, tears pouring and blending in nicely with the rain rolling off your cheeks.

From inside, the florist, who could easily recognize your face gave you a concerned look but didn't interrupt you. It was clear you looked heartbroken, lost, and distressing.

Back at the school, Jake finally came off stage, fingers shaking, took his guitar off his well-worn shoulders, and his heart sank deep into his chest.

Then he heard it.

The girls. Laughing behind the bleachers.

"She really believed it, huh? Like he would actually be into her."

"Oh my god, did you see how serious he was? That's so embarrassing-"

"Do you think she's crying right now?"

Jake turned immediately, eyes dark, jaw set. "What did you say?" His voice was low. Dangerous.

They blinked. "It's just a joke-"

"No," he said, stepping forward. "You think humiliating someone is funny?"

The rage in his chest ignited. "You're the reason she's not here?"

They tried to brush it off—but he was already pulling out his phone. Texting his friends. Telling them to help pack up. He was going to find you.

Rain or not.

Jake had been running through about half of the city. The rain had been falling, drenched through his hoodie though he didn't care.

He checked the café, your bus stop, even the small bookstore at the corner whose front window you liked to slow down and look at.

Nothing.

His heart pounded like it was going to snap a rib. Then, he turned around the corner past the florist shop—the place where you both argued over whether it was daisies or carnations that looked better in the kitchen window, and...well, there you were.

There you were. Standing in front of the window with your head down, that pretty outfit emerging from the downpour, make up smeared, mascara swirling down your cheeks, fingers clenching that cherry blossom pin.

You looked like you were sitting there waiting. For something. For someone.

His stomach curled up. You got all dressed up for him.He called your name. Once. Wobbly and breathless. You didn't even flinch. He stepped a bit closer.

Forward, careful, in front of you. You finally looked up, eyes wide open red and furious. The florist inside noticed him immediately, clutching her mug like she was watching the climax of a drama unfold right outside her store window.

Your hands moved fast. Angry. Sharp. Your pout was trembling, but your signs were loud. "Don't talk to me. Don't look at me."

You signed again, more forcefully. "You think it's funny? Did they dare you? Was it some kind of game?" He couldn't keep up with how fast your fingers were going, but he saw the pain. The betrayal.

His heart ached.

Jake shook his head immediately, rain pooling in the bottom of his lashes, and signed, "No. No. That's not what happened." You scoffed and turned away, but he stepped in front of you again, desperate. "Please, just watch this."

He struggled to pull out his phone, his fingers fumbling with the cold, and there it was; his friend had sent him the video link—a recording of the performance, uploaded to the school's blog. It was shaky; it was the whole thing. He tapped play and turned the screen toward you.

Not the sound. Only the subtitles. The image.

It was him. On stage. Nervous. Eyes filled with hope.

You watched with your arms crossed and jaw clenched, unsure.Then, you saw him sign it. Each word."This is for her. The girl I love. She taught me to listen, even when there is silence. She's strong, and funny, and smart, and beautiful."

Your eyes widened. The way he gazed at the empty chair. Your chair. The way he bent his neck to gaze and search for you in the audience. The footage showed him signing the lyrics of his song, each movement full of heart, no hesitation. Not a trace of mockery. He meant every word, and he meant them for you.

Your fingers trembled as you put down the phone.Jake stepped closer, covering your hands with his own.

"I didn't know," he signed slowly. "I swear. I didn't know what they told you." His jaw was clenched in a way that made it seem like he was holding back tears of his own.

"I wrote that song for you," he continued. "Not anyone else. Just you."

You blinked, stunned, your lips parted but no signs were coming out yet. The weight of your misunderstanding and the pain you had been carrying all day cracked just a little under that look.

Then finally your hands moved, more slowly this time. Hesitantly. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Jake gave you a sad, almost helpless smile as he stepped closer, gently tucking your wet hair behind your ear. His hands moved with purpose, signing carefully but with a tremble in his fingers.

"I wanted to see your smile when I signed the song live. That was all I could think about." He paused, brows furrowed as his hands hovered midair. "I'm sorry I didn't explain sooner. I'm sorry I wasn't there when they hurt you."

Your bottom lip quivered again, more tears slipping silently down your cheeks. You didn't move, didn't sign back right away. Just stood there—heart heavy, soaking wet, eyes searching his.

Jake didn't wait for a reply. He reached for you, pulling you gently into a tight, rain-soaked hug, holding you like he'd never let go again. 

Then came the kiss.

Jake looked at you—rain dripping from his lashes, eyes filled with something warm and intense. He cupped your cheeks with both hands, gentle but certain, thumbs brushing over your skin as if anchoring himself.

You barely had time to process before his lips met yours—soft, careful, like a question he was too afraid to speak aloud. Your eyes widened at first, startled, but slowly fluttered shut as you kissed him back.

You tasted like your cherry lip gloss.

Sweet. Familiar. All his.

Behind the glass, the florist gasped audibly, scrambling to put together a bouquet with ribbon and free stems, already deciding she'd gift it to Jake to give to you. Romance deserved flowers—and this was the kind that made her believe in love again.

The next morning, the sun was back out. The sun had dried the streets, but for Jake it did nothing to cool him down.He strolled beside you holding your hand, with his backpack over one shoulder and yours hanging from your arm.

But he couldn't keep his lips off your face: your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. Jake was just rambling about how much he loved you, how you were his future wife (he repeated this part over and over, loud enough for anyone walking behind you or to the side of you to hear).

It didn't matter that you didn't hear what he was saying. He wanted the world to know. Specifically, he wanted those who were trying to belittle you to see it.

Jake's friends standing across the street saw you together and immediately got rowdy, cheering out loud things like:

"Jake's plotting plan is working!"

"She's got him whipped!"

"He is so down bad it's embarrassing!"

Jake only beamed, shamelessly proud.

When you got to the gates of the school, and there were a bunch of girls from the other school walking by, Jake caught a glimpse of them.

You don't even know what happened, so fast he turned to you and said goodbye with the most extended goodbye kiss —right on the lips, long and intended. 

Your eyes went wide, and you swatted at him, trying to pry him off with flustered hands.

He giggled and quickly signed, "I'll pick you up after school. Don't miss me too much, darling."

Your ears were burning.

He noticed.

And loved it.

────୨ৎ────

You had graduated, and Jake had finally debuted. Three long months apart, during which he fought his way through the rigorous survival show, I-LAND.

It had been three months of hell for both of you—too many nights of loneliness and longing, missing each other. But through all the trials, he made it!

He was finally here, taking his first steps as a member of the idol group Enhypen, the moment he had been waiting for. But the second he could, he ran right to you; he didn't even greet his fans at first.

The instant he laid eyes on you, he pulled your body into his arms; didn't care that the cameras and the fans were around, he just needed to feel you close to him again.

He buried his face in the hoody, holding you like he had never planned on letting go and whispering repeatedly in shaky signs and soft words how he missed you. He had been away from you for too long, but he was never letting you go again. 

Though Jake adored his fans, he couldn't shake the feeling that none of them could ever compare to you.

No one knew and understood him like you did, no one supported him like you did, no one made him feel so so seen like you did.

He had such gratitude for his fans despite there not being a proper quarterback, but they would never take your place, you were the one who he thought about every day when he was away.

He wanted to show them there was someone who had always stuck by him, someone who saw him for him. He had been through so much, but it was worthwhile because he did it all for you.

You were his grounding point, his thought process, he wanted everyone to know that.

Several months later, Jake asked you to come and see Enhypen for their first big concert. You hesitated, thinking about if you wanted to go or not, especially since you could not hear any music.

Jake didn't care. He remained positive, looking right at you with a bright smile, "I hired a sign language translator. They are going to be on stage, right in front of you."

He would find a way to bring you as close as possible to this concert experience he wanted you to experience.

You were important to him, and he figured no one would understand music better than you, even if you couldn't hear it. He's not asking you to be a fan, he needed you to be the person who always believed in him.  

The night of the concert arrived, and the venue was filled with energy and excitement.

The lights flashed brightly across the stage as Enhypen began their performance. You were in the front row, your seat specially reserved for you, and the translator stood beside you, making sure you understood every single moment.

Despite the loud crowd, your attention was entirely on Jake. You couldn't hear the music, but you could feel it—feel the passion and energy that radiated off him.

Every time he glanced your way, a soft smile would tug at your lips. And then, in the midst of the performance, Jake did something just for you: he pointed directly at you during one of his fanservice moments.

You blushed, feeling the heat in your cheeks as you realized that, even in front of thousands, he was teasing you with a wink. He was having fun, but he was making sure that you knew he was thinking about you.

But it wasn't just the fan service. When Jake lifted up his shirt during the concert to flash his abs—they were a sight, very sculpted work of art, all glistening—you knew it was not for the fans.

It wasn't meant for the camera at all. You knew he was teasing you and wanted you to stop looking at Woo Do-hwan, and instead wanted you to look directly back at him.

It felt like a special moment just between the two of you, but still, you had to look away, embarrassed covering your face but your heart racing. The way Jake would cheekily tease you was what he loved to do, always eager to make you flustered. 

A year passed since our last interaction, and things had changed in a drastic way. Jake was continuing to work hard and be a member of Enhypen, but he was holding a secret deep within for one long year.

Jake had been practically begging his company for an entire year to allow him to tell all of you about me at a live concert.

He couldn't hide me anymore. He wanted everyone to know who I was to him and why he had a translator on stage with him at every single concert.

And finally, his company said yes.

Jake stood on that stage, illuminated by that bright light, with all those fans watching him, and breathed out deeply before he spoke.

He signed for the translator to share with the audience, but you could still feel the weight of his feelings in his signs.  

"Why do you see a translator at every show? I bet you've all wondered that." Jake said with a steady voice full of meaning.

"It's not just because accessibility is important. While that is a very important reason, it's because there is a person very special to me, who is always here supporting me, even when she can't hear the music."

The crowd went quiet because they seemed to understand the depth of his statement. Jake looked directly at you without wavering in his gaze.

"Even when she can't hear the music, she can feel the music. She feels the love, the passion, everything I put into it. She understands me more deeply and better than anyone else." He paused again and his gaze softened looking at you. 

"She is my muse, my reason for writing, my reason for singing, my reason for standing here today." It was so quiet in the room you could hear a pin drop. "Her name is Y/n. She's the most important person in my life."  

The fans were in shock, some even crying, while others cheered loudly. The translator was smiling as they relayed Jake's words, and you felt your heart swell.

Jake wasn't just sharing his story with the crowd; he was sharing you—the person who meant everything to him. As the crowd erupted in applause, you stood there, overwhelmed by the love Jake had just poured out for you. You didn't even have words to express it.

[luci4theminorannoyance]

Ur deaf and TF141 tries helpimg

a/n: ofc 😔🫶. I haven’t posted in so long and I’m sorry to all my followers, I just have some family event stuff to deal with :) part one, remind me in asks to do part two

Roach:

-this one makes it a bit tricky since he’s mute and your deaf, but sign language still works quite well!!

-if nobody else on team knows sign, he loves having secret conversations with you about random things until price catches you

-loves leaving notes around your house because that’s a way both of you can always communicate

-will sign things for you when you don’t get them

price:

-seriously didn’t notice until ghost pointed out because you just always read his lips

-ran to your room to apologize and genuinely begged for your forgiveness even though he hadn’t done anything inherently wrong

-would adore to learn sign language better for you since he only knows a bit

ghost:

-literally the best out of the group. You’re pissed someone isn’t understanding you? Don’t worry he’ll translate. You are trying to figure out what someone in a movie is saying when there isn’t subtitles? He’s there

-surprisingly sweet about all of it. You’re his lover, so it doesn’t matter to him. He’ll do anything for you.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello Clan, I was wondering if you could do the glams (including Bonnie and Foxy) and the daycare attendents learning that a worker reader has hearing aids that are usually hidden by their hair or a hat and that the hearing aid has a sticker themed around them, for example: a lightning bolt for Freddy, a checkered flag for Roxy, a cupcake for Chica, a music note or maybe golf clubs for Monty, a bowling pin for Bonnie, a skull for Foxy, a star for Moon, and a cloud for Sun.

I understand if you can't do all of them

No worries! But I couldn't figure out anything for Foxy, sorry-

I did my best research on writing for characters w/ hearing aids, so if there's anything I missed/got wrong I apologize!

......

Glamrock Freddy

He's seen you around the pizzaplex over the past month, although at times he gets confused when you don't respond to his greetings unless he's standing right in front of you.

But he assumes you're just busy and doesn't mind it much.

When you're assigned as his handler to help him keep up with all the events lined up this week (photo-ops, meet and greets, performances, birthdays, etc.), he finally gets to know you on a more personal level.

One evening, you're removing confetti strips and candy wrappers from his stomach hatch (in summary, the pinata's string got caught in the mechanisms during transport and ripped apart when the hatch opened), briefly removing your hat to wipe the sweat from your forehead.

Freddy takes notice of the little devices in/around your ears, and suddenly it all clicks.

"[Y/n], if I may ask...are those your hearing aids?" The curious bear points to his own ears.

"Yep, glad you finally noticed." You chuckled, but he didn't catch your sarcasm.

"My apologies for sounding intrusive. I've just never seen them before."

"Oh you're okay, Freddy. I don't like to make a big deal out of them...unless some guest calls me "deaf" as an insult." You muttered, about to put your hat back on when you notice him still staring at you. "What's up?"

"Are those...blue lightning bolt stickers?" He gasps. "They look just like mine."

"...that's because they are." You smile, turning your head to show him the designs.

His heart is thoroughly touched.

"Aww..you themed them after me? Your favorite bear?" He coos, to which you huff and hide them with your hat.

"Yeah, yeah..I'll admit you're my favorite. Now don't go bragging about it to everyone else."

Roxanne Wolf

Working at the raceway was sometimes sensory hell for you, with your hearing aids constantly absorbing the sounds of noisy karts or screaming kids.

The worst was the construction work.

So you switch them off sometimes when you're busy with a task, as hearing gets tiring--especially in these parts of the pizzaplex.

One day, however, Roxy walked over to ask if you could supervise Cassie's birthday party...only to see you blatantly ignoring her.

She would've been annoyed, had her eyes not seen the aids hidden by your hat/hair.

Oddly enough she never noticed them before...

She just taps your shoulder politely, getting your attention as you turn them back on. "Oh hey, Roxy. What's up?"

She repeats her question, but you still struggle to hear her, so you both go somewhere outside the raceway to talk.

Once you understand what she's asking, you head to the atrium to assist with any final preparations, but along the way she inquires about the aids.

"Oh! There's something I've been meaning to show you." You reveal the checkered flag stickers, surprising the wolf. And you smile at her growing grin. "Yeah, I knew you'd love 'em."

"They're really cool. So I guess you can just..tune out all the ruckus of the raceway whenever you want?"

"It does get overwhelming at times, so yeah..I had them off. Sorry if it seemed like I was ignoring you-"

"Nah, I understand now. But listen, if anyone gives you trouble over them, you let me know. Alright?"

"..I will. Thank you, Roxy."

"Of course. It's the least I can do for my favorite human worker." She chuckles.

Glamrock Chica

The incident where Chica's upgraded voicebox horribly malfunctioned would have surely overloaded your already sensitive hearing.

You were supervising her performance, but at the first sign something was wrong you took your aids out and dodged the chaos that followed, leaving to file an incident report.

As a lead tech, however, you're summoned to run diagnostics on her voicebox in parts and services (as apparently nobody else wanted to do it).

You kept your aids off in case things go awry again, but when Chica wakes up, she's 100% convinced that she broke them and you're angry at her.

She was informed that you use them, though she's never actually seen them.

Plus you were closest to her when it happened. If her voice could damage that many STAFF bots...then surely your aids weren't spared, either.

"Well, Chica..the good news is that we don't have to replace any of your speaking components." You explain, not realizing her sadness at first. "But I recommend you don't sing for a while and stick to the guitar. Just to play it safe."

"Oh, okay....I-I'm sorry....I really am..." She sulks in the chair.

"It's not your fault. I kept telling them not to rush the upgrade, but no one ever listens to-"

"BWAK?!!" Then she jumps, surprised. "You can hear me! I-I didn't break them..?"

"Huh? Oh..no, no, no. They're fine, Chica." You reassure her softly. "They're totally fine. See?"

Taking one aid out, you show her the cupcake sticker you put on it in hopes of cheering her up, watching the relieved smile return to her beak.

Montgomery Gator

If any place in the pizzaplex is loud (besides Roxy's Raceway), it's Gator Golf.

Should the ambience or the bass of Monty's instrument be too noisy for your hearing aids to handle, you can easily take them out or switch them off.

You can always hear his voice given how he talks in general, but if he's speaking directly to you, you'll have to put them back on.

The first time this happens, however, he sees them for a split second before they're hidden by your hat/hair and immediately assumes they're earbuds for music.

In his eyes, you suddenly decided to ignore him and he's not happy.

"So that's how it is, huh?" He snarls, already being in a bad mood as is. "I ain't fun to talk to anymore? You'd rather listen to your stupid human music than mine!?"

"Monty, what on earth are you talking about?" You blink in bewilderment. His hostility usually didn't come out of nowhere like this. "I don't have any music in-"

"Then what didja just stick in your ears?!" He points, glaring at you over his glasses.

"..my hearing aids?"

There's a long, awkward pause.

"...y'know, the things that let me hear you?"

"Ohhh..that's what they are? How long have ya had those for?"

"Most of my life." You smile apologetically, seeing him fumble and backtrack whatever he said before. "It's okay, Monty. I should've told you about them before....you wanna see something cool?"

Showing him your aids, he sees the golf club stickers on them and grins, no longer as grumpy as before. "Awh yeah!! Wait....did ya put those there 'cuz you like golf..or me?"

"I chose this design because of you, big guy." You chuckle.

Glamrock Bonnie

You were Bonnie's main handler, so you two have spent nearly every moment of your shift together.

He's been aware of your hearing aids since day one, complimenting the cute little bowling pin stickers you plastered on them and chastising any person who gave you a hard time about wearing them.

Sadly you never got closure on what exactly happened after he went "missing"...only to discover his shattered body stowed behind Bonnie Bowl months later.

He had claw marks inconsistent with what Monty's hands could have possibly done (not that you believed the gator was ever guilty of attacking him despite the rumors).

You fought tooth and nail to get approval from management to repair him, working tirelessly in parts and services--even doing overtime just to bring him back.

When Bonnie finally reactivated after weeks of trial and error, he nearly looked good as new.

Except...he doesn't remember you, and there's corruption in his memory files from the night he left his green room and went into Gator Golf.

He insists he was following somebody's orders, but can't specify anything beyond that.

"I'm sorry..I'm not much help, am I?"

"No, but...I suppose you should know that Monty's taken your place in the band in your absence." You regrettably inform him, seeing how sad he looks. "But if it's any help...you're still my favorite."

Taking off your hat, you show him the now faded bowling pin stickers that remained on your aids, and he stares for a while.

Then you see his eyes flicker with recognition as a smile grows on his face.

"[Y/n]...thank goodness you're still here! I-Is Freddy okay?"

Sun

He's definitely had deaf kids (both with and without hearing aids) come into the daycare, and he tries his best to give them a fun and accommodating experience during their stay.

So right off the bat, he knows you wear aids and often tries communicating with you in sign language.

Whether you're well-versed in that or still learning, you appreciate his efforts.

But you sometimes have to remind him that you can still talk to him as you normally would.

You show him the stickers on your aids--a cloud covering a sun, to be more precise--and he's totally ecstatic.

And I mean "jumping up and down cheering" ecstatic bc now he knows you picked those stickers because of him!! Because he's your favorite!!

Physically he's there but mentally he's the "yippee" autism creature

Sometimes you gotta lower the volume on your aids with how loud he accidentally can be, and he notices this fast.

"Oh! I'm sorry, sorry, sorry!! So sorry!!" He fumbles. "Can I add something to the stickers maybe??? Googly eyes??? Glitter glue to make them shimmer and shine???"

"Thank you, Sun..but they're fine this way." You insist. "I don't want any glue dripping into my ears."

"Right! O-Of course!! We wouldn't want that now, would we? No glitter glue going into your brain!!"

Moon

The lunar animatronic, on the other hand, takes a bit longer to notice your hearing aids (considering how dark the daycare gets during the night cycle, he doesn't notice much).

When he does, he'll ask you some questions.

Like how long you've had them, how well they tune out background noise, etc.

It's all out of genuine curiosity, and you tell him whatever you knew, taking one of the aids out to show it to him.

And only then he examines the star-shaped stickers on them, staring for a while.

At first he automatically assumes they're themed after one of the Glamrocks...until you mentioned how similar they are to the stars on his hat and pants.

Finally, the gears in his mind click together.

"So you're saying....my outfit inspired you when you picked out these stickers?"

"Yep."

"How sweet of you, [y/n]...they look very nice. Glad I could be your muse." He snickers.

You never see it, but he's gonna be gushing over this every time you're working in the daycare now.

None of your coworkers paid any mind to Moon. They usually called him creepy or avoid conversing with him should they absolutely have to cross paths.

But you go out of your way to see him whenever possible; and the stickers are just a subtle yet sweet way of reminding him that he's always gonna be your favorite.

[anything-pov]

can you write a fic where reader is deaf and Emily learn sign language for them??

Enjoy!!

Prentiss Signs

Truthfully? You never expected her to try. You couldn't just expect something like that from someone, or at least you'd come to learn that.

Emily was already so busy, with jetting off to cases, working long nights, leading the team, carrying the weight of so many lives. You'd told her more than once, "It's okay... you don't have to."

And you meant it.

But Emily Prentiss has a stubborn streak, and she doesn't do anything halfway. So when she showed up one evening with a stack of notecards, her hair a mess and her jacket over one arm, you just stared.

She dropped her keys, and her bag, and signed (clumsily, but surprisingly clearly), "Hi. I want to learn." You blinked, then blinked again.

She smiled, nervous and unsure, and added aloud, slow enough for you to read her lips, "I know I got that wrong. But... I want to do this. For you."

And so it began.

At first, Emily struggled. Her slim fingers didn't want to cooperate, she'd blame it on her years of holding stiff guns, her brow would furrow constantly.

And more than once she muttered, "This shouldn't be harder than hostage negotiations," which you couldn't help but giggle at, though you'd quickly hide it under a cough when her arms would cross with a sigh.

But you were patient, as patient as she'd allow. You signed things slowly, sometimes repeating them two, three even four times till she got it.

When she fumbled through something as simple as "coffee" or "work", she'd huff and sign something vaguely chaotic that made you burst out with silent laughter.

Still, she persevered, kept going.

She even enrolled in ASL class on Thursday nights, juggling it between her BAU schedule and mountains of Chief worthy paperwork.

You'd catch her practicing in the mirror, mouthing the words while signing them slowly, her fingers dancing shakily until they learned the easing rhythm.

You'd fall asleep sometimes with her arm wrapped around your waist, her free hand unconsciously tracing the alphabet against your back. And slowly, oh so slowly, she got better.

You taught her curse words when she needed to vent, and jokes when she needed to smile. She learned "I love you" early, she practiced it more than once.

One night, without warning, she looked at you, no stumble or hesitation, and signed it. Perfectly. "I love you". You forgot how to breath for a second.

- - -

A few months later...

You, something you don't usually do, join the BAU team for dinner. Garcia picked the restaurant, somewhere trendy and loud, all laughter and clinking glasses.

The team has taken over a long table in the back. Emily rests her hand on your lower back as you slide into the seat beside her. And just like that, it starts.

Morgan is already in story mode, laughing at something Spencer had mistakenly done last week, talking a mile a minute. JJ is trying to keep up, and Garcia's hand gestures alone could tell a full story.

You lean back, a little overwhelmed, your brows furrowing as you slowly get left behind...

But then Emily taps your thigh gently, her fingers drawing your attention. She signs slowly, "Morgan said Reid spilled coffee on Hotch's files. Again."

You snort. Emily smiles.

Every few minutes, she checks in, translating certain bits of fast conversation, shortening some, skipping others, but making sure you're never left out of the loop.

She signs across your lap, under the table, casually but clearly, pausing sometimes to double check her signs. Once, when she fumbles over a complex phrase Garcia throws out, she huffs, rolls ger eyes and signs, "I'm trying, okay?"

You kiss her cheek. Knowing Garcia was one to make up her own words and phrases to emphasise her misfortune.

- - -

Later that night, when everyone was full and winding down, you notice the others looking at her a little differently. Not unkindly. Just... moved.

Emily, who once struggled to remember the difference between "want" and "need", is now translating full conversations without missing a beat or made up word.

And she learned it all, just for you.

You squeeze her hand under the table, signing a slow, heartfelt, "Thank you. I see you." She squeezes back, "Always, love."

[starsofang]

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.

And when he showed you the new signs he’d been working on so he could communicate with you on the fourth date, spelling out your name with cautious, slow fingers, eyes searching for your approval? You could’ve already married him then and there.

[mandomaterial]

Could you maybe write something about miguel and a deaf girlfriend or wife?

Ofc bby, personally its one of my favorite things to read because the fics are truly something else! I hope i did your request justice. :3 to be honest i don’t quite love how it turned out but i hope that’s just the little perfectionist in me. I really do hope you like it!

Btw i didn’t proof read any of this- feel free to tell me if they’re any typos! Masterlist

Miguel with a deaf reader

It all started when Miguel bumped into you at the library, you were struggling to reach a book from the top shelf and Miguel being the kind man he was, walked over, reached over your head and brought it down for you. All this had given you a terrible scare, you hadn’t seen him coming and well, you couldn’t hear him. So Miguel got quite concerned when he saw your panic stricken face “Are you all right?” He asked, his eyebrows clenching together. Fortunately you learned how to read lips, so you could quite easily decipher what he said and maybe you stared a little too long at his plush, full lips, you snapped out of it and nodded a little, cheeks all heated up and red.

To be honest Miguel thought you were pretty cute from the start, that’s why he actually came over, he thought that getting a book down for you would be a good conversation started and he didn’t mean to scare you. You hadn’t said anything to him yet, so he tried again “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to spook you.” With a soft smile on his lips, still holding onto your book. You didn’t react at first and you didn’t seem to be making eye contact, instead your gaze was set a bit lower, maybe that should have been his first clue that something was out of the normal here, but no. After a moment you stufend a little and started rummaging through your bag, looking for something, it didn’t take you long and Miguel was surprised to see that you pulled out a pen and a little notebook. You didn’t waste a second and started scribbling something and then turning the pages for them to face him.

«Hi, I’m deaf so i can’t really talk to you, I’m sorry » Miguel eyes quickly scanned the words and as soon as he was done, his big brown eyes snapped up to you, seeing the sorry look on your face. It was like you were sad that you couldn’t talk to him. You were sure that he’d just walk away after this, maybe if you could talk properly you could’ve had a chance with him. But against all odds, Miguel continued “Don’t apologize, that’s oka-“ he didn’t finish his sentence, caught in thought with his eyebrows scrunched. Could you understand what he was saying? And as if you’d read his mind, you started scribbling again. Miguel patiently waited until you turned it over again.

«I learned how to lip read pretty well, just don’t talk too quickly and everything’s okay» you smiled, happy that he was willing to continue. In all honesty you were so exited that this stranger wanted to talk! And he was so handsome too! You bit your lip a little and waited for him to finish reading. Miguels eyebrows raised a little, surprised that it would be this easy to communicate with you, maybe he still had a chance to score your number.

“Oh is that so? That’s pretty cool, do you also speak sign?” He questioned, making sure to not mumble, so that you’d understand easily. It looked like your eyes lit up, with little sparkles shining in them as you wrote on your little notebook. Miguel thought that you were really adorable and he couldn’t help but smile as you started writing excitedly. You handed the note book to him and his eyes shifted to the wording, gladly reading it.

«Yes, I speak sign! You you know any signs? It’s okay if you don’t. :) »

Miguel brought his hand up to his chin, thinking about his time at university, didn’t he take a sign course once? He was deep in thought until his eyes fell on you, you were standing there patiently waiting for him, big sparkly eyes and a big smile on your lips, you looked like a baby deer, just like a fawn. It was too adorable for him and he had to look away a little so that you wouldn’t notice the little bit of blush staining his cheeks. Your head flopped to the side and you didn’t understand, Miguel noticed and played it off as him fixing his already perfectly styled hair, by running his fingers through it. He forced himself to face you again and said

“Um, I took a course at Uni, but i don’t remember much.” He scanned his brain for any signs he still knew and a few popped up “umm, i think this was ‘thank you’?” He signed it, slowly, but correct “And this one’s ‘Hello’ “he signed again, this one was mostly correct as well! You’re ere so exited! You started applauding him just a tiny bit, your palms touching and just your fingers clapping, a gigantic smile on your face that reached past your eyes. Miguel almost couldn’t believe his eyes, how were you so fucking cute? His heart was pounding in his chest, unable to calm down and he was sure his pupils were heart shaped already. He just had to keep talking to you. So he did.

“Um, so what’s your name? My- My name’s Miguel. Miguel O’hara.” You nodded to show that you understood and started writing your name on the paper. You showed it to him and he paused for a second, he looked down to you again and realized that your name really suited you. You cracked a toothy smile that you covered a bit with your hand and just then Miguel realized that he’d said that aloud. His face flopped down embarrassed and he chuckled a bit but started looking at you again soon after “I said that aloud, didn’t I?” he smiled jokingly, you nodded vigorously and giggled a little. It was quiet but Miguel had heard and he could stop his smile from growing. He thought that it was no or never so he put on his brave face, shuffled around a little but made sure to keep his mouth where you could see it and asked confidently:

“I think you’re pretty cute. Could I maybe take you out sometime? Maybe dinner or something?” Oh, he hoped that you would say yes and that he could take you out, he already started thinking about places to go, his mind starting to spiral a little, thinking of you. Your face seemed confused, had you understood that wrong? Did he really want to take you out on a date? This hunk of a man, that could easily pick you up with a single hand? As if. It all feels like a cruel joke, maybe you do need to practice lip reading more. You didn’t quite know what else he could have said, so with a shaky hand you started writing down what you thought he said, preparing yourself for rejection or a misunderstanding.

It’s not like you haven’t been on dates before, actually you’ve been on quite a few, but it never lasted, all the guys thought it would be too hard to communicate and gave up before even trying. It broke your heart every time and you started hating your disability more and more every time it happened. So you decided to get off the dating apps and give meeting someone a rest. Once you finished moving your pen, you hesitantly flipped the notebook to show Miguel.

«You want to take me out? Like on a date?» Vulnerability was spread over your eyes as you feared his answer, expecting him to correct you or something similar, but to your surprise he just nodded, albeit a little concerned about the worried look on your face. He opened his mouth to say something “Do you not want to go out with me? That’s totally fine too, you probably have a boyfriend…” his mood sunk and he felt kinda silly for assuming.

But he couldn’t be more wrong, your mood had seemingly done a 180 and was completely flipped, you wanted to tell Miguel that you’d love to go out with him and that you didn’t have a boyfriend, but he wasn’t looking at you. So you did something a bit out of your comfort zone, you took hold of one of his hands to get his attention, before he even fully started looking towards you again, you began nodding like crazy, hoping to get the message across and bring it across you did, with a smile on his face he confirmed your answer and you just continued nodding with a huge grin.

The two of you exchanged phone numbers and that’s the story of how you met your now husband.

He was still ever so charming as the two of you sat on the couch in your living room, just enjoying each other’s company. You were leaning against his chest, curled up like a cat, just daydreaming about your lovely, handsome husband, until said person tapped your shoulder to shift your attention to him.

« What are you dreaming about, mi sol?» he signed, his finger moving quickly with precision, it had taken him a couple years to fully grasp the language but now he spoke it just as well as you! It was actually pretty cute how he started learning, each time the two of you met up for a date, he always showed off the new signs he learned in simple conversations and every time, you applauded him and gave him a little kiss as a reward. To him that was like the deal of a century, a kiss from his beautiful girlfriend for just a few new signs?m oh yea. He’d take that any day. It even gave him more motivation to study!

You just smiled and snuggled closer, before moving your fingers to say: « Oh nothing, just how we met and how cute you were » you snickered a little, knowing that being called cute would rile him up a bit. And right you were.

« Hey, hey, it wasn’t me that was cute, you were and you still are!» suddenly he grabbed you and almost crushed you in a bear hug, you loved his hugs, they were so warm and cosy, no need for any type of communication, his body telling you everything that you needed to know. This was truly a moment of bliss, Miguel wrapped his fingers around your own and brought them up to his plush lips, kissing your slender ring finger, so happy that the two of you were married. He’d stay with his Mrs. O’hara forever and ever!

Bonus headcanons

- he’s so protective of you, especially if you’re out in the city, he can only imagine how much more dangerous it could be walking around without being able to hear. What if you were crossing the street and didn’t notice a speeding car because you couldn’t hear the honking, what if you got splashed with water from the puddles when another car drives past, or that those stupid cyclists will nock you over, safe to say he worries a lot, so he absolutely always walks on the side wich faces the road, he never lets you get too close to the adage and he’ll always, always hold your hand.

- if someone ever gives you trouble or starts yelling at you because you don’t understand, (mostly Karens) hell put on his scary face and ask if they have a problem with his wife, while staring them down, not once has this ever backfired and he’s proud that he can scare anyone off that’s making you uncomfortable.

- If the two of you are out and about in the city he’ll always interpret anything that happening, oh there’s a crowd over there? They’re watching a performer. Oh, you wanna watch them too? Hell sign whatever they’re doing at the speed of light. Oh, someone’s yelling and there’s drama? If you’re interested he’ll tell you what they’re yelling about. Oh, there’s a cute puppy you wanna pet? Of course he’ll ask for you. And you’re ever so thankful, each and every night, you shower him in kisses and hugs as a thank you. And Miguel? He’s loving every second.

- sure there were a bunch of bumps and hitches in your relationship, lots of miscommunications and sure, it was difficult but he never gave up, he believed that you were the one for him and he’d do anything for you and of course you’d do anything for him as well, the two of you were basically made for each other and he didn’t mind your disability one bit, in fact, it just made you even more special.

[nik1okrock]

Sharky - Siren!Ni-Ki

Summary: Riki, besides being a siren had been your boyfriend for over a year and, on your anniversary, you two go swimming even if things will end up heated.

Warnings: Siren!AU Oral f.recieving Deaf!reader

Masterlist

It had been over a year since you found the man almost lifeless on your dock. You helped him and after lots of months you both realised what you both felt for each other.

He had taken you underwear different times, literally kissing life into you so you could breathe.

The first time, he had gifted you a pearl, and so he did when you first argued. He spent over a month in the cave he used to call home before you found him. All this because you found out he had eaten almost every partner you had since he laid his eyes on you, declaring you his property.

Sirens were very protective and possessive creatures over their belongings.

You took those two pearls on your bedside table, on a small plate you brought just for them. You used to take them in your hands when you felt down, even if Riki was at home with you.

After the accident, your hearing aids had been the reason for your loneliness, the absence of them made you suddenly become quiet, your sparkling eyes looking dead.

And Riki hated it. It took him time to know what hearing aids were, what happened to you and why you couldn’t hear his song when without them. He had tried to use his song on you just for fun, to know if you would even hear it. You didn’t.

That’s why he had bought you some hearing aids that were for swimming and for sleeping. He always wanted you to hear his voice.

For your first year together, he had gifted you a bracelet he had made himself out of pearls, shells and white corals. You hadn't made something like that, and you felt stupid for not doing so but he assured you. He had let you take him swimming and, once you disconnected your lips from your making out session, you chuckled: “Oh God! I'm making out with a fish!” And he would laugh too. “Quite not a fish, Pearl, I'm a siren.” The purplish scales on his skin glowing under the moonlight, his teeth pointy. He was already ethereal in his human form, but like that, he wasn't only ethereal, but also breathtaking.

In that moment you would have paid to hear that sound again, he had by now wrapped his tail around you and pulled you in for a kiss again. After a while, you got out of the lagoon, Riki took his time to transform back into his human form and you looked away as if you hadn't seen it all before.

Indeed, during the first weeks, Riki didn't like to wear clothes, leaving his body bare when he was at home.

You wrapped a towel around your body and dropped one on Riki.

As you walked towards the front door, he followed, stepping only on the wet footprints you left behind you. He loved doing so, and you found it silly: him struggling to walk the same way you do since his steps were longer than yours.

“Pearl, I’m hungry!” He yelled while still on the dock and you turned to him while opening the door. “Pork or lamb?” “Pork!” His face lit up at the mention of his favourite type of meat. He loved pork a lot, it had the closest taste to human flesh.

He ate humans, you knew, your grandmother had always warned you from sirens. She used to tell you stories about them, and yet, Riki didn’t seem the way sirens had been pictured by her.

This was probably because you had never seen him hunting, you two had a deal: he would tell you when he would go hunting, but he would never talk about it nor take his prey where you could see them.

He had to feed properly, you didn’t have any right to deny it to him, that’s why you made this deal.

You got inside, switching your hearing aids from the waterproof ones, to your usual. You walked into the kitchen and started cooking braised pork in sweet soy sauce. In the meantime, Riki had gotten into his so-called bedroom, which was a disguised hobby room. It was nice to stay in, but he just used it to keep his things since he had recently started to sleep in the same bed as you.

Once he got dressed, he came to you, circling your waist from behind and leaving small wet and open-mouthed kisses where your neck met your shoulder. “It’s nice that we could get you waterproof hearing aids…” He mumbled while sniffing your skin, his teeth getting sharper as they grazed your skin. “You don’t want any garlic, right?” He nodded and smiled, his eyes flashing full pitch black. “Yeah, but be quicker or I might eat you instead.” And you chuckled at his snarky remark. “Sure Sharky, eat me out, I don’t care.” “Oh, so you’re letting a dangerous monster, a so-called siren, eat you so easily, Pearl?” He spun you towards him, so you were now facing him: his completely black eyes, his sharp teeth framed by a devilish smile before you pulled him in for a kiss. It was your way to tell him that, yes, you would let him eat you and he knew what you meant by that.

Without any hesitation he turned off the stove and picked you up, taking you upstairs to your bedroom. In no time you were bare beneath him, Riki’s head between your legs, his breath fanning over your already soaking wet core; his pitch black eyes shining with desire as he teased you with a smirk, biting your inner thigh, leaving swollen and bloody teeth marks. It was in moments like these where he couldn't handle his nature, being a mix of a siren and a man. Having sex with him always made you look like you had been attacked by piranhas. He made his way closer to your core, but not before teasing you more, he kissed up your stomach, between your breasts and your cleavage, then up to your nose, forehead and mouth corner, but on your lips. He wanted to make you even more needy and horny than you already were.

With one swift motion, he pulled your body closer to him and wrapped an arm around your waist, his mouth finally making contact. A soft moan escaped your lips, unbidden, as his tongue flicked against you, teasing and exploring. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he worked you into a frenzy, each flick and swirl igniting flames of ecstasy that coursed through your body. “Riki, oh god, yes.” You could barely form coherent thoughts; every sensation felt magnified, heightened, as he lavished attention on you, relentless and insistent.

He looked up at you, locking eyes, the heat of his gaze making your heart race even faster. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, sending vibrations through your body. “So perfect.” And with that, he dove back in, his movements growing more fervent, losing himself in you as you writhed beneath him, breaths coming in ragged gasps.

The pressure inside you built, spiraling tighter and tighter until you felt like you might break apart. “Riki… i’m so close,” you cried, the words spilling from your mouth as he pushed you closer to the edge.

He responded with a growl, his fingers moving in perfect harmony with his mouth, forcing you ever closer. the world was nothing but the two of you, the heat between you igniting everything in its path.

With a final surge, you felt yourself tumble over the edge, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you surrendered completely. “Riki!” the sound of his name escaped your lips in a breathless cry, your body arching against him as the world exploded in brilliant color.

As the tremors faded, he crawled over you, a smirk on his face and a sparkle in his eyes that told you he hadn’t even begun to unleash everything he had in store for you. “I told you I would have eaten you.”

Your breath came in shaky gasps, the warmth of his body enveloping you as he pulled you close once more. “And I'm not done with you yet,” he growled, his voice filled with a promise that sent another wave of desire surging within you.

God if you loved this man, well, siren.

__________

 © 2025 rik1okrock All rights reserved

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

Hi! I love your writing style and I want to make a request! Could you make a deaf Sonic x reader FEM with Sonic having a hard time adapting to his partner having this quirk? I'm deaf and I'd love to see how he'd react to this, it sounds fun (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) may be in headcannons about how he would handle this (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Sonic the Hedgehog x Female Deaf Reader Headcanons

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Notes: Okay, so I first read this as Reader being deaf, but it reads as them both being deaf, so I just made it Deaf Reader- Hope that's okay!

- When he first met you, you had been captured by Eggman because you, well, couldn’t hear any incoming sneak attacks

- So, when Sonic saved you, he was confused at first as to why you were using sign language, but luckily he knew sign, which was great!

- Once he found out you were deaf, he vowed to protect you

- This hedgie definitely asked you out in sign once he found out he liked you

- If anyone has trouble with sign, he translates for you, and for them, to make sure you can have conversations with people

- He loves you to death, and he always wants to make sure that you’re safe and comfortable

- A plus side is that he doesn’t hurt your ears when he runs off at high speeds!

- On the downside, you’re very prone to Eggman attacks…

- Not when he’s around, though!

[luimagines]

Send Me a Sign

Another Commission!

They asked for deaf reader who ends up with the Chain, with only Legend knowing their version of sign at first and it spreads to the rest of the group. Along with their feelings.

Enjoy!

Masterlist

Contend under the cut!

This was a problem, but one you were accustomed to at this point.

You had found yourself in a new and strange location that looked like your home but was nothing of the sort. There were monsters that you have never seen before as you traveled quietly through the forest trail. At least, you had hoped you were silent. Given that you hadn’t seemed to attract their attention, you figured you were doing alright.

Until something else caught their attention and the whole world went sideways. Weapons and arrows were flying from all around as a group of young men charged at the hoard. You weren’t sure which direction the threat was coming from anymore. It could have been the men or it could have been the monsters- all you knew was that you had to make yourself scarce and fast before you got caught.

Just keep running, you told yourself. Finding a way to contact those people after the mess so you could figure out where you were and how to get back home was an afterthought.

You had all but crashed into one of them on the way to your escape. He was shorter than many of the people in your village and he had a stunning pick streak in his hair but that was all you had time to notice before you scrambled off of him. You quickly sign that you apologize for the collision but you don’t stay to explain anything or get an explanation.

You run away, taking a long way around the mess to keep an eye on the battle despite the distance.

Someone else catches you and waves you down. You feel a slight panic increase in your bloodstream- the adrenaline crash later might as well be world ending and you know it. You jog up to him signing quickly, hoping that he understands what you’re saying. 

You take a moment to see what he looks like. Another blond, blue eyes, face tattoos and wears a fur pelt. It’s not exactly a look you’re used to but he seems to pull it all together despite the strangeness. He certainly doesn’t look bad. You’re quick to notice his armor and weapons. If he was trying to hide them, he sucked at it. They were easily the most intimidating aspect of his entire outfit. You can tell that he’s equally checking you out and sizing you up. He doesn’t seem to immediately get aggressive though. Maybe your lack of weapons and armor help sell the fact that you were more or less ripped from your home. 

Before you can so much as get out a decent greeting, you can tell by the look on his face that he has no idea what you’re saying.

Familiar frustration bubbles up inside you- fighting with the adrenaline inside you for dominance.

Despite the awkward look on his face, he tries to sign back. 

Hope at last.

Only for you to not understand a single thing either.

With the little balloon popped before it could fully inflate, you sag with it and shake your head. You try signing again, slower, wondering if anything would stick. He pays rapt attention to your signals, very obviously trying to follow along.

He looks just as chest fallen and tries to sign back to you- but nothing sticks. His mouth is moving but you don’t recognize the words he’s trying to say. Well- that’s not entirely true. But you don’t think that banana, cat and fiddle claws are the actual words he put into the air.

Dread and awkward helplessness settles ungratefully into your stomach, sinking it further and further to the ground as more time passes.

The young man in front of you sighs and gestures for you to follow. He’s still talking but you’re not sure how to explain that you’re out of luck in that regard as well. However, you were fairly certain that instantly signing would have been a dead giveaway.

You follow him, hoping beyond hope that someone would be able to give you answers.

You end up seeing the earlier boy you ran into. His pink hair was unforgettable despite the chaos. You smile nervously and wave to him again. Given that his friend didn’t seem to understand you, you’re not sure if he understood you earlier.

The young men start talking amongst themselves while gesturing to you.

As much as you expected this at this point in your life, it didn’t make it any less annoying. It’s not like you were right there if anything, nevermind that you couldn’t participate in the conversation.

You crossed your arms, not wanting to be annoyed by their (unintentional) lack of manners.

Although, it seems that Mr. Fur Pelt was merely explaining that you sign because within moments they all took turns signing to you, trying to communicate.

You wanted to cry- but maybe that was the adrenaline crash you knew you were about to have.

You couldn’t understand them either.

Not a single thing.

Was this the universe’s cruel joke to you? To be surrounded by people who could sign but still be unable to communicate to you? 

How many years have passed with wondering what it would be like if everyone could sign? If everyone could talk to each no matter the boundary? 

Your heart twisted as you forced yourself to shake your head with each and every attempt they made. The boy with the pink hair stepped forward, going last out of this group of nine. You couldn’t tell what he was trying to say just as well as the others.

Still, at least with him, he still deserved an apology for virtually running him over.

‘I’m sorry about earlier. I was trying to get away from the fighting and didn’t see you.’ You bite your lip, not wanting to get your hopes up that he would understand you in return.

You see him go still and tilt his head. A beat passes. ‘No problem. It’s not like I saw you either.’

It felt like he had struck you in the face.

Your jaw goes slack before you feel yourself moving. Is it to hug him? Jump on him? Kiss him? You’re not so sure. You managed to reign yourself in before you invaded his personal space but the grin on your face was unmistakable. 

He knew. He knew! He knows your sign!

Feeling excited and safer with him in a moment, you explain your situation, throwing in your name for good measure- signing at the speed of light without care of being watched by the others.

‘I’m sorry you got dragged into this. Call me L-I-N-K in the meantime. Are you hurt anywhere?’ ‘Link’ smirks slightly as you shake your head. You notice another young man with brown hair and ruby sword strapped to his back huss around ‘Link’. He’s also talking quickly- but you can’t make out what he’s saying either.

The spoken language of this group must be different from the one back home as well.

One of the boys, who’s the shortest of them all, hands a small acorn looking nut towards you. You take it with a tilt of your head.

You have no idea what to do with it.

Shorty turns and all but demands ‘Link’ to explain it to you. Which he does. ‘It’s called a Jabbernut. If you eat it you’ll be able to understand us when we speak. It’ll make talking easier.’

That’s when you still.

Oh. They ate this weird magical thing and that’s why they seem to speak and understand each other, but their signing is all over the place. You bite your lip and shake your head, trying to hand it back.

Mr. Colorful takes it back with a confused look on his face. You sigh. ‘I’m deaf. It wouldn’t work on me anyway.’

‘LInk’ tenses up completely and quickly relates what you said to the rest of the group, at least you think that he does. They all seem to change their stance once the knowledge is out and you’re tempted to wage violence at the thought of the knowledge changing anything about this circumstance.

‘Link’ frowns and runs his hand through his hair, ruffling it roughly. He turns back to you. ‘Ok, not a problem. It’s not going to be easy but I’m sure we can figure something out. But seeing as you’re far away from home and in this mess with us- we think it would be better if you come along. Can you fight?’

And like that you no longer feel like fighting them on principle- if anything the fight is dashed from your reach. You’re suddenly very tired. ’Why do I have to fight?’

‘Monsters. We take them down constantly. It would be better if you could defend yourself in the meantime.’ ‘Link’ explains it simply. ‘It would just be easier for everyone if you could.’

You can’t argue with that logic but sadly you shake your head and tell him that no, you can’t fight. You pretty much just have the clothes on your back. If you had a weapon on you, they would have been able to see it. It’s not like you have any magical items either.

‘Link’ makes a displeased face and you know the feeling well. He gestures for you to wait a minute before he turns to the group, speaking to them about what you just told him no doubt. The eldest of them with a scar over his eye makes a point that you’re sure is about your lack of training. You can’t say that for certain but the way he’s keeping his only eye on you is vaguely unnerving all things considered.

It was one thing for Mr. Fur Pelt to size you up- this one feels more penetrating. This man has seen some stuff. And as the biggest man of the group, you don’t doubt for a second that he’s able and willing to flatten you in a heartbeat should you step out of line.

Another blond, with soft looking hair and a large blue scarf steps up and speaks some more, offering no doubt valid points as he sends you a charming smile.

You wave to ‘Link’ and tilt your head. ‘What are they saying?’

He seems a little embarrassed to play Translator if his pink cheeks are anything to go off on, but he turns to you again. He gives you his full attention, blocking off the others from his view so that it’s just you. ‘We’re talking about what to do in an emergency should we get into a really tight spot. It’s not like we would be able to shout at you and tell you what to do. But don’t worry too much about fighting. There’s enough of us to go around to have you covered.’

Strangely, his words help you feel a little better.

Deciding that it would be better to let them figure it out on their own and to simply follow their lead, you nod and figuratively take a step back from the conversation.

They talk rapidly, gesturing wildly with their hand in a way that is not like sign at all and more about just being emotional in general. Every time you manage to make eye contact with one of them, they smile at you. Bright and charming and alarmingly disarming.

‘Come. We’ll find an inn and spend the night in town.’ ‘Link’ gestures for you follow when they’re done discussing their future plans now that you’ve found yourself involved in what shenanigans have pulled you all from their home.

On the walk, ‘Link’ tells you about why they’re far from home as well as what they do and who they are. He tells you that they’re all named Link.

You are inclined to not believe him.

You tell him that and he laughs. It turns many heads of the group, cluing you in that it was louder than it looked like and by the looks on their faces, it wasn’t something he did often.

Somehow, you feel accomplished in making him laugh despite having barely met him an hour ago.

You get the inn where you’re able to have more conversations with. One of them gets the grand idea of getting paper and inks to write out to communicate but that’s also quickly dashed. No one seems to write in a way you could decipher and not a single one of them wrote the same way. You’re both intrigued and infuriated that it didn’t work. ‘Link’ said that they were all from different places, (hence the need for the Jabbernut,) but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

Although you were sure someone found it amusing. Someone potentially up above that was laughing at all your expenses. Surely even the Golden Goddesses got bored from time to time.

You would have found it amusing as well if you weren’t so desperate to get answers for yourself without having to rely on one person entirely. You’re quick to fit in with the group. Even though you can’t hear a word they say, you quickly get a good grasp of their personalities.

The youngest, who ‘Link’ told you was a pirate, aside from being named Link just like the rest of them, brought the paper and began drawing. He drew a house, the ocean, a boat in said ocean and three people. He pointed to one of them and pointed to himself.

It was his home and family.

Your heart warmed and you gestured for the pen. He happily gave it to you while you did the same. Slowly, and with a lot of guesswork on both of your sides, you learned a little more from them without the need for your current translator to step in and smooth out any wrinkles.

Days went by. Weeks went by. You grew comfortable enough around them and their antics that it didn’t seem to be so isolating that they couldn’t sign the way you knew how. They always tried to include you in said antics but given that their idea of fun seemed to be cutting down a tree and riding it as it was launched into the stratosphere, you were more content to watch them.

Suddenly, the one who you were told to call The Traveler walked up to you with a small smile on his face. He seemed nervous. You waved to him and patted the spot next to you. A universal invitation to sit next to you. Maybe that would ease him up a bit. You wondered what got him all worked up.

‘Thank you.’ He sat down.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ You waved him off and turned back to watch The Pirate and The Champion push each other around with large leaves they’ve seemed to have found.

‘They’re funny.’ The Traveler points to the two of them. ’They’re good people.’

‘I think so too.’ You freeze and turn to him, realizing what had just transpired. Your eyes widen and you grin, turning to him fully. ‘You can sign now!’

He laughs and nods his head. ‘The Veteran has been teaching me. I wanted to talk to you too.’

You want to hug him too, but something else catches your attention. ‘The Veteran? Who?’

He tilts his head and points to ‘Link’. ‘The Veteran. Him.’

You nod, understanding who he means now. ‘He just told me to call him L-I-N-K. So that’s all I know him as.’

The Traveler pouts. It’s a cute look on him. ‘We’re all L-I-N-K.’ Here he seems to struggle a little bit to get the signs out, not sure what shapes to make next. You wait patiently, not wanting to rush him or make him feel bad since he’s obviously been making an effort to get this far just to talk to you. ‘Can’t share name. It’s confusing.’

You smile. You think you understand what he’s trying to say. But then again, you’ve all been giving them different names in your head… Maybe you should stick a little closer to the names they have. Otherwise, The Traveler next to you wouldn’t know who you’re talking about now that he’s been learning.

Grinning at the fact that they’re weird for having the same name, you properly introduce yourself to him at last. He grins- brightening up the area around you instantly. It’s blinding.

‘Link’, The Veteran, walks up to you both and slings his arm around The Traveler. ‘Is this guy bothering you?’

It’s teasing and The Traveler seems to take mock offense to the accusation, elbowing his friends in the gut none too gently. The Vet doubles over a little bit before ruffling his friend’s hair vigorously.

You laugh and shake your head, feeling lighter than you have in a while.

It was the first of many.

It seemed that while you weren’t looking or paying attention, the rest of the group had badgered The Vet (something you still feel strange to call him when he introduced himself as Link) into teaching them all your signs so that they could communicate specifically with you.

It appeared that while you were busy trying to help the new learner with their signs as you both finally communicated, the Vet took that opportunity to begin teaching the next one and so one and forth until everyone was more or less proficient enough to have a conversation with you- having learned it all right under your nose.

Admittedly, you cried.

It was probably the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you. 

However, they didn’t stop there and it certainly wasn’t the last sweet thing they did for you.

Before you knew it they would leave little things for you as gifts, even though you could never figure out who was leaving what in your little pack. 

Yes, pack. The boys insisted on giving you your own things even if it meant they all had to buy it with their own money. They had all but fought over who got to give you something shiny and new. It would have been more concerning if they had let you be around to see them try to out sneak each other.

That being said, you were still intrigued about who was giving you such pretty little things. Sometimes it would be a flower or a small gem. Other times it would be a piece of jewelry, like an earring or a ring- the occasional necklace and bracelet. You once found a very expensive looking matching jewelry set that you felt compelled to safeguard that no one had wanted to claim as their gift to you- even if you saw them give each other bombastic side eyes.

It appears that they didn’t even know who gave you that one.

You wore it the next day.

And even The Old Man told you you looked beautiful with them in his own quiet and stoic way. But you’ve grown up in the art of reading facial features and were quick to read his ever subtle smile. It was the highlight of your day.

It didn’t seem like much in the beginning of course. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence for you to receive a gift of sorts but you would have liked for someone to step up and claim ownership of all of this. There was enough to fill your pack to the brim and you had yet to give any of them a proper thank you.

The one they called Sky was willing to hear you out on the matter. He thought it was funny enough as it was, but your clear exasperation and exaggeration was more amusing for him in the interim. It annoyed you but you could see where he was coming from. If this was happening to any of the other boys and you knew you had a part in it (you couldn’t trust Sky with the idea that he was innocent), then you would have found it just as amusing.

You weren’t sure where he was taking you either. Sky had pulled you away from the group for a moment so you could both walk and talk. It was nice actually, being able to just be after all the chaos you and the group had gone through was nothing short of a miracle. And to spend it with Sky? 

You liked him. He was clearly a good guy. From what you could see, he had his head screwed on right. He was sensible and sensitive. He was quiet in a way that didn’t need sound to convey. But he still shared the need for shenanigans just as much as the rest of the group.

He eventually brought you to a small clearing where a small picnic blanket was already set up for the two of you. Your heart fluttered. 

This was unexpected.

But you weren’t entirely opposed to it. By the look on his face and the way he moved around, subtly trying to see your reaction to it, you could tell that he had put a lot of work into this and he was nervous to see if you would like it or not.

You loved it.

You both sat down quickly while Sky explained in a roundabout way what everything was. There was pumpkin soup among small cakes and teas. You’ve never had that before. Sky said that it was his favorite. You couldn’t wait to try it.

Only for someone else to find your little get away and start talking to Sky.

The Captain had his hands on his hips and didn’t look at all pleased about finding you both alone like this. He was talking quickly, looking only at Sky for a short moment. Something crosses his face in the middle of his tirade and he looks at you. He smiles apologetically at you and gestures to Sky. ‘We needed him for something. We were looking everywhere.’

Understanding him, Sky jumped to his feet, gesturing grander and with more passion behind his words. They’re not signing so you miss whatever they’re saying to each other but they’re not happy with one another. That much is clear.

You bite your lip and get up, feeling awkward about being left out of the contact behind this. You don’t want Sky to get in trouble though. You wave to get their attention once more. ‘I’m sorry. It’s my fault. We were just hanging up.’

Maybe taking some of the blame would soften this?

Sky instantly turns to you and shakes his head, waving his hands frantically before signing in a  way you can understand once more. ‘Don’t worry about that. This was my idea anyway. I should have cleared it first. Don’t feel too bad about it.’

Even though he currently gives The Captain the most bombastic side eye you’ve ever seen from Sky.

Warrior gives him an equally annoyed look but once again apologizes to you.

Sighing, you let them lead you back to the others- picnic forgotten about entirely.

Upon returning, the others were quick to jump onto Sky but you wouldn’t hear it- no pun intended. ‘Don’t even think about it! We were just hanging out!’

They calmed but you doubted they would continue behaving once you were out of the picture. It was strange. They got along as if they were closer than brothers. This must have been a big deal. Even stranger was that they hadn’t mentioned the problem to you. At least not directly.

You didn’t want to jump to familiar conclusions. These young men have been more than accommodating to you and being deaf hadn’t seemed to change anything like you had originally feared. So for them to be hiding something as subtle as this must mean they were planning something.

It still didn’t make sense though.

You vowed to keep a better eye on them after this.

Strangely, The Blacksmith was next. It wasn’t as secretive as a small picnic away from the group though. This time you were in the middle of Castle Town. You didn’t seem to catch whose it was but The Blacksmith seemed familiar with the place.

He all but dragged you to a local bakery and told you to pick whatever you wanted, it was on him. Surprised but delighted by the cakes and sweets and breads, you pointed out what you wanted. Part of you felt a little bad for choosing so many things, but you argued in your heart that you could share with the others and you would slip some rupees into The Blacksmith’s pack when he wasn’t looking to pay him back for going a little overboard in your excitement.

That done, The Blacksmith then led you to a park where he sat you both underneath a tree in the shade to go to town on the absolute haul you had just procured.

No one seemed to bother you both this time and the moment of peace was undisturbed until you all but ate the entire thing.

You ate until you were full and satisfied and so, so happy. ‘Thank you Smithy. This was just what I needed.’

He grinned and waved it off. ‘Consider it a thanks for putting up with us as much as you have. I know we can be as stubborn as mules.’

You grinned back. ‘No. I love hanging out with you guys. It’s been fun. Danger aside.’

‘We love you too.’

Something collided with the back of the Blacksmith’s head. He jumped up and threw it back with expert aim despite the fact he hadn’t seen it coming. Impressive.

It in turn, collided with the Vet’s hand. He caught it. Equally impressive.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t just one person to butt in between you and a friend. It appears the rest of the group was there to oversee this. All of them looked annoyed to some degree or another. Impatient would have been another excellent term for their posture and facial expressions.

You waved, albeit hesitantly. A bomb was about to go off and you knew it, but you weren’t sure if it was going to take you out in the process. ‘Hi. What’s up?”

‘First Sky and now The Blacksmith.’ The Vet all but scowled. ’Is anyone else going to get a chance to take you on a date before I get a chance?!’

You stilled, freezing on the spot.

The Rancher smacked him on the back of his head. Said Rancher turns to you and sighs. ‘Did The Blacksmight ask you to go with him? Is this a date?’

You blinked and turned to the young man next to you. ‘Is it?’

The Captain and The Traveler all but threw his hands up in exasperation.

The Blacksmith smiled sheepishly and shrugged. ‘Admittedly, I had hoped so. But I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I was trying to play it by ear.’

You deadpan at his literal translation. ‘You realize that wouldn’t technically work, yes? Why didn’t you just say something?’

‘He did.’ The Pirate signs in the corner of your eye. You turn to him instantly with a tilt you heard. He takes it as his cue to continue. ‘Everyone has. Everyone has been trying to tell you. They weren’t exactly hiding it.’

You feel a blush overtake your face. You look back to each and every one of them in a new light. Shame crawls up your back at your apparent obliviousness but you manage to keep eye contact with the group.

‘I didn’t notice.’

‘We know.’ The Vet’s eye twitched. ‘But we didn’t want to put any pressure on you. It was just to see who you’d go for first and then back off.’

‘That’s a horrible way to go about that.’ You glared. It was tempting to cross your arms but that wouldn’t keep the conversation going. ‘It would have been impossible for me to figure that out. It’s not like I was getting any signals from any of you that you would have been interested!’

Is getting mad going to help this? Maybe not. But anger was easier to deal with than whatever else you were tempted to feel at this moment. Everyone appeared to be getting embarrassed about this in one way or another. You were suddenly very thankful to be having this conversation completely in sign, otherwise the very public would have been watching this with great interest no doubt.

Ignoring the blush on your face, you keep going. ‘I’m not a mind reader. A hint would’ve been nice. A direct sentence would be better. But since you all decided to be sneaky about it you could have at least given me a sign!’

‘That’s all we’ve been doing!’ The Traveler ruffled his hair roughly. ‘We’ve been giving you nothing but signs. Literally!’

You faltered a little, your embarrassment digging every fiber of your being into a deeper hole. Maybe that should have clued you in on that. It’s not like everyone with platonic intentions gives secret gifts, learns a whole new language, then tries to get one on one time with the person of their interest- Goodness, you probably should have been able to figure it out faster than this. But you somehow missed everything they all threw to your face. No wonder they seem annoyed when you go off with just one of them. No one signs anything for a long time and you realize that they’re waiting for you to reply. You bite your lip again and look at each of them. ‘...All of you?’

‘Pretty much.’ The Old Man smiles softly, taking a little bit of mercy on you. ‘It’s still your choice though. We can all back off and give you some time to think and come back to this conversation another time.’

You nod while the group seems to come to an agreement on this. They look at you with bright and bashful smiles. ‘We’ll wait for you to give us a sign this time.’

[messyhairedhazeleyeddude]

╔═════ •┈• “I Hear You.” •┈• ═════╗

A Toge Inumaki x Fem!Deaf!Reader || Fluff + SMUT || ˚. ୭ ˚◦˚.

Contents ; Mind reading (reader has cursed hearing), Toge has PTSD, soft touches, hesitant fingering, face-riding, mind control (Toge uses his speech curse), squirting, soft dom Toge, public sex, cock-warming, and a cumshot in reader’s panties.

A/N ; Hi, so I just wanted to explain a little bit of background on this since reader’s curse might be hard to understand for some right away. But, basically, reader is partially deaf from a horrible accident involving a curse that had consumed one of Sukuna’s fingers. It left her with a cursed ability to where she can listen into someone’s thoughts for a limited amount of time at random. However, it has its drawbacks which you will see in the story. Now, that’s all! Hopefully that clarifies some confusion if there is any.

Dynamic ; Best Friends to Lovers

Sexual Dynamic ; Soft Dom!Toge | Bottom!Fem!Reader

P.O.V ; First

Age range ; 18+

Music Suggestion ;

{Y/N’s P.O.V :}

I sat on an oak polished bench with a heavy sigh, facing toward the buildings of Jujutsu High, hundreds of Ginkgo trees shrouding certain parts of their rooftops in a pretty spiral. The same ones lining the path that I walked on to get to our usual hang-out spot.

Their orange leaves danced around my head and landed at my black Mary Jane’s, my glossy lips quirking up into a smile at the perfect shape of the leaf before lifting my Canon camera to take a picture. As soon as my finger hovered over the snap button, it flew away.

Wind being the culprit. A shudder ran down my spine when the gust blew through my {H/C} hair and ruined another shot, making me huff in frustration.

I’ve been dealing with this annoying weather all day. Finally, the day I’m off of studying and training. Left alone to fulfill any hobbies I want for as long as I want with no one calling me on a mission to exorcise curses. And it just had to be windy.

However, I couldn’t complain. Being able to get dressed for the day, something I hadn’t been able to do in a long time— was more than exciting. There was even time for myself to do my makeup and having hours like that as a Jujutsu student would be considered lucky.

Reminding myself of him, I smiled. The memories of his horrible attempts at being on time flashed in my mind and brought a small giggle out of me. Oh, that’s right. How could I forget the example himself? For the boy I was waiting on, getting out of work was non-existent.

The feeling of a warm hand placing itself on my shoulder made me jump out of my seat, twisting around to stand in a fighting position with a little scream. When I saw the recognizable white parted hair and tired, doe eyes of Toge, I clasped both of my hands together and puckered my lips out of embarrassment.

He was quick to be apologetic, repeating the same weird ingredients he usually said over and over again, “Sujiko… Takana..?” But, by now, I somewhat understood what he meant. Takana was used as a form of asking if I was okay. Sujiko… That, I could only guess meant an expression like, ‘Oh gosh.’ Or I liked to imagine it was.

Hanging out with the cursed speech user outside of missions had benefits when it came to understanding his way of talking. Although, that was funny to mention because the way we had come about to regularly seeing each other was far from willing. Or maybe it wasn’t on my end. But, if I could take those doubts back, I would.

Thinking of that dredged up a flashback of how it all started.

•···· ‘ First Meeting Him . . . ’ ····•

My feet slipped while trying to hop onto the next stone in the middle of a river I was crossing, almost taking a tumble into the cold water before I saved myself by stretching out my arms. I regained my balance and breathed heavily, cursing underneath a couple of them.

Then I went for the fifth one, regaining momentum and skipping across each of them until I landed on my toes into the bed of pebbles near the water. Surprisingly, I had yet to cut them on a sharp object sticking through the dirt.

I turned my head from staring down at my legs and white skirt to looking at my reflection in the clear stream.

{E/C} eyes peered back at me, filled with happiness from the moment of quiet, and appreciation for the fact I didn’t have to stress my attention span on anyone. Or that’s what I thought.

Before I could get further with that thought, a headache began to form on the right side of my temple and I placed a hand up to it; worry rising as I knew what was happening when I heard ringing after the throbbing. My curse. It was coming.

I couldn’t understand how it was. A person had to be beside me in order for me to connect to their inner consciousness and they’d have to be in an extremely weak mindset which would take hours for me to perfect in battle.

So, what this was and what this meant was far beyond anything I’ve experienced with my curse. Right up until this very point.

Crouching down to my knees, I started to hold both sides of my head now. The pain and ringing worsening by the minute. I rocked back and forth to try to ease myself. Why was it so hard to connect to them? It was like they were poisoning my brain the more I tried to.

Whoever it was took me forever to process before I could hear the faint sound of mumbling, such a soft and sweet voice.

“What do I do? What do I do? I can’t have her knowing that I stopped to watch her… Even worse, she could think I followed,” I managed to make out what they were saying, the masculine tone rambling on and on, as if the boy had some form of hyperactivity disorder.

Thankfully, the migraine stopped once I was successful in linking. So I was able to stand up straight again. Looking around for the responsible one of my misery.

I figured I’d tell them I knew they were here to lure them out of their hiding, shouting with a lag on any words I couldn’t hear I was pronouncing right, “Who’s out there?! You can show yourself! I won’t be upset with you!” Hope I said that correctly.

The voice paused and no longer spoke a word, a silence enveloping the atmosphere and leaving me to barely confirm that they were still present by checking if my cursed energy was still being used. When I did, I called out a second time, “I promise! I won’t think anything bad of you! I can hear your thoughts! My curse is working with you as of now!”

My attempts at getting them to come out seemed futile and I was about to give up before I heard rustling in the bushes to my left. I turned my head to see who it was and to my surprise, it was that cursed first grade sorcerer. What was his name? Inumaki?

His chin was lowered but his eyes were wide and fixated on mine, like he was in shock. He was nervous from what I could tell in his body language: hesitant in his footsteps, jagged breathing, and small pupils. I could see a shake in how he walked too. Whatever it was that was scaring him about me, it was definitely due to underlying trauma.

And once I heard what he started to think about, I pieced together why, “Okaka, okaka, okaka, okaka.” He continuously repeated the Japanese word for ‘Fish Flakes’ in a panicked tone, his hand moving up to his forehead to press against it. Toge was forcing himself to not think anything because he was worried his curse would affect me.

The poor boy proceeded to break down in front of me, landing onto his knees in the grass while pulling at his hair as slips of actual words were coming into his sentences, “Okaka, I can’t, no! Stop thinking, Ikura, just Ikura! No, no, no, OKAKA!”

I could feel his torment. Having access to someone’s mind wasn’t a gift like people assume it is, this was why. You get to see what they see, feel how they feel, and physically align yourself to the point where it could be labeled as scientifically combining one’s spirit with another. That means I can see all of his past and present. I can understand every single thing Inumaki was trying to do for me in that moment. And it was to save. Save me from him. Only save me from him. That was what he was really trying to say.

There wasn’t enough time left of my ability for me to convince him to calm down and see that nothing was wrong. I was cut off before I could say a word of affirmation and from the look of dull surprise on Toge’s face, he sensed that it was over.

I don’t think I’ll be able to forget that look of sadness in his purple eyes when he came to the realization that everything was fine. That none of his words had hurt or done the things he had saw in his head. It’s what led me to tug his sleeve as he tried to leave.

Inumaki didn’t look at me, but he stopped. Like he was waiting for me to say what I had to say. So, I hurriedly proposed an idea I wouldn’t have blurted out had I not felt rushed, “Can I see you again?”

Admitting this now, I adored seeing that smile curving up his cheeks, as melancholy as it was. It’s what made me start to crush on the boy. He nodded his head and gave me a thumbs up, his eyes squinting into crescent-shaped moons while he remarked, “Shake.”

That was the beginning of our unspoken friendship.

•···· ‘ End of Flashback. . . ’ ····•

I blinked rapidly when coming back from the small memory trip, realizing that I had been staring at Toge the entire time I was lost in it. A blush creeped onto my face, I could feel the warmth scattering my cheeks and I lifted my hands to cover it; leaving my eyes open to keep eye contact with him.

That wasn’t a smart idea. He was bound to know that I was flustered. Inumaki had such an odd increased sense of observation because of his inability to have conversations. I could see it from how he looked at me. It always felt like he was reading into my soul, gently peeping behind the curtains of my brain, and looking at the scripture of my bones whenever he held his gaze on me like he was currently.

A hum left me and I laughed it off, brushing the sleeves of my brown cardigan on my cheeks, stepping toward him, “Pardon that, it’s so cold… Do you think we could go somewhere warmer?”

Toge lingered the stare for a minute before he gave me a break and answered, “Tsuna Tsuna.” I distinctly recall that to mean, ‘Look’ in his vocabulary. Confirming it when he grabbed me by my wrist and pulled me closer, bringing me into a hug.

At first, I thought he was trying to warm me up with his own body temperature but then I felt him taking off his jacket and that made me pull away. The stupid blush on my face wouldn’t ever go if he kept this up. I apologized and waved a hand at the action, “No, no! Thank you for the kindness.. But, you need that too.”

He continued to take it off and walked back to where he was in front of me, throwing the jacket over my shoulders and holding it there with the arm holes wide open.

I stared up at him, his face closer than before, and the details in it enough to make my face burn brighter; like a tomato. Then I slowly slid my arms through the warm piece of clothing, letting it mold into my body, giving him a small smile of comfort and gratitude.

Toge looked me up and down, holding two thumbs up with an exclamation of the word he uses for praise, “Mentaiko!” His eyes smiling at me once again.

Why did he have to be so sweet? I was lost in thought about my crush on the boy for what felt like the millionth time. Tired of stressing my feelings on it but I wasn’t able to say a word about it to him. I didn’t want to ruin a friendship that seemed so fragile by acting on something that’d be so selfish. He wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, he was looking for a friend. Someone he could finally have a connection with outside of his stressors. Not another load to bear.

Shunning myself from having anymore thoughts on the matter, I went to sitting on the bench from earlier again, Inumaki following behind and plopping down next to me.

We sat in silence and watched the scenery like I had been before, helping me calm myself so no more unnecessary romance made me avoid the white-haired boy. I closed my eyes and burrowed most of myself into the jacket to keep some heat maintained, the smell of rice and red mungbean paste wafting from it.

Glancing at Toge, I noticed that he was leaned and fixated on scribbling something on a paper resting in his lap. Seemingly to have got it from the backpack he carried here.

I watched as he jotted down the last of what he needed to write. He shoved the pencil back into one of the pockets of his bag and folded the paper up into a square; handing it to me the moment he was finished. My expression changed into a surprised stare, digging my fingers into the corners of it until I undid the folds one by one.

There was no way I would expect to see what I read on that paper, but I did. Stumbling over the words he wrote with shock.

‘Please, try to connect to me again?’

Looking over at him, my wide eyes met with his purple, calm orbs. Like he was trying to tell me it was okay. Inumaki outstretched his hand and placed it facing up on my thigh for me to hold it, peacefully smirking at me as if he was letting me know that he was ready to talk.

My breathing increased and my eyelashes fluttered, trying to process everything without getting too overjoyed, but that was really hard. He wanted to speak to me. Would I be the first person he’s talked to? Would I be the first to experience a conversation with a cursed speech user?

None of this mattered. The only thing that mattered was getting to experience the connection again and after having so much time to regain control over this cursed energy I had, I was more than prepared to pull it together.

My eyelids shut and I focused every single bit of my attention on Toge’s presence, pinpointing the exact spots of his soul and reaching out a hand to place it on his forehead. Sweeping hair out of the way for my palm.

A buzz of power vibrated through my entire arm and I could hear the sounds of almost thousands of student’s thoughts for a fraction of a second, my head spinning until a snap was heard. And then quiet. I could picture a thin white line in my head, the sound of soft, running water making me giggle. His soul was so gentle and pretty. It was exactly what I thought it would be like.

I opened my eyes to look at his handsome face once more, giving him a nod to let him know that I succeeded in the connection. My heart picking up pace and thumping against my chest as I waited to hear that voice of his.

Quiet but kind, he murmured to me, “Can you… hear this?” I eagerly nodded, a wide grin accidentally peeping from my lips as I said, “Yes! Yes, I can!” His eyebrows raised and he appeared starstruck, choking out in his mind, “You can… And nothing is happening to you? You can talk to me?”

Tears formed in the corners of his ducts out of being overwhelmed, threatening to spill while I continued to shake my head up and down, confirming the one thing he had been wanting almost his whole life.

He scoffed, thinking out loud with more confidence, “I didn’t think something like this was possible for me…” I had never heard him speak so clearly before. Last time he was so hard to hear that I had to listen to each syllable for a clue on what he was saying. Now, he spoke directly into his head.

But, pushing everything to the side, I was curious about his reasoning. Why was he suddenly okay with this? So, I asked him, “What made you want to connect?”

Toge bit his lip at the question and a random look of nervousness crossed his face, his directness failing him as he gave himself away instantly, “I was trying to ask if you would be willing to cross the boundaries of friends and into something more…?” My jaw dropped at what he just said, looking at him like he was insane before coughing a reply, “Wow! I wouldn’t have thought this was what you were going to say! Um…!”

Tilting my head to the ground, I tucked my knees together and sheepishly took the hand that he kept there from earlier. Interlocking my fingers with his and squeaking out, “I think I would really enjoy that…”

This was happening. He was confessing feelings for me I believed didn’t exist a moment ago and telling me he wanted me to be his girlfriend. Holy, shit. Mind my language, but seriously! HOLY, SHIT!

Inumaki squeezed my hand and reached over to grab my chin with his other one, turning me to face him so he could get closer. Observing how I was responding to the situation with a tiny smirk. Was he being cocky? The Toge Inumaki?

He touched noses with me, asking as he barely hovered his lips on mine, “I don’t know why… but I really want to…Is it okay if I kiss you, {Y/N}?” My breath caught in my throat and I froze, responding through my own thought, “Yes.”

There was no hesitation after, our lips locking in a tight hold as he brushed his hand to the back of my neck, tugging me into him to where we were smushed against one other. A small bit of desperation in the pull, causing the both of us to stay in the kiss until we needed a break for oxygen.

I panted once apart, Toge moving his arm from holding my hand to pushing his fingers to my lower stomach, hesitating right around there. He murmured, “Can I go all the way?” Struggling from holding back by the way he was dragging down. I dug my teeth into my tongue and contemplated over the ask, secretly accepting it as soon as he mentioned it. Fuck, I felt like such a bad influence.

“Do it,” I quickly whispered into his ear, nuzzling down into the crook of his neck to hide there afterward. What were we doing? What if someone saw?

Me and Toge were exchanging kisses on an outside bench. We were cuddled up until the white-haired boy laid me down on the wooden planks, his lips dipping for my neck and sucking on parts that were exposed. I gasped, wrapping my arms around him to plant my nails deep into his back. I didn’t mean to hurt him, I was just overstimulated by the rushes of dopamine from every single touch he gave.

It was so soft. Even as he pushed his fingers underneath my skirt and in between my thighs, it tickled me from how delicate he was. This was weird. Who knew I would like someone touching me like this?

Inumaki hovered above my underwear once he got around to them, swallowing nervously while he confirmed with me for a second time, “I can go ahead? You want this?” He was so adorable in the way he quirked his head like a puppy as he asked, his messy hair making me want to squeal. But I refrained.

I decided to vocally express it now, “Yes, I want you to.” Hopefully that would get it through to him. His face almost innocent for that brief moment he asked right until he got the message. A darkness shading over his face before he hooked his fingers on the fabric that covered me. Pushing them to the side and making me hold my breath.

He was doing this to me. He was really going to do this with me. Out in public. My head turned to stare out at the falling leaves with a churning anxiety in my stomach now. Letting the boy above me feel the wetness between my legs with his fingertips, pushing down to my entrance and slowly sliding one third of it in.

If my grip was bad then, I couldn’t imagine how it was once he started. It felt like he was trying to tease me for the first half of it, constantly taking his fingers out, pushing an entire digit inside, then half of another, and proceed to completely abandon the whole thing. Like he was experimenting with me and figuring out which made me feel the best. Eventually, I had to plead, “Toge, Toge…! Can you please… just keep them in?” That was awfully embarrassing.

The purple-eyed boy raised his brows, gushing out an apology and pulling completely away instead, “Oh..! Sorry… You feel really.. nice. I hope this is okay…” Before he went to kiss from my neck down to my chest, all the way to my hips. Looking up at me through those white eyelashes of his as he went for it, wrapping his mouth on my sensitive bud and dipping his tongue to my entrance.

He lapped in and out of me, my legs tensing and squeezing around him on accident while he dragged me into sitting on top of his face. Peering at his eyes that stared straight up at me, the other half of him covered by my thighs and lower half. I humped a tiny bit from how good I was feeling. Unable to stop myself from getting out of hand because he was driving me nuts with his pace.

I couldn’t keep it in for longer if he kept pressing the tip of his tongue on those sweet spots inside. Or if he kept sucking on the right places. Anything. I would unwind. And I didn’t want to make a mess on him.

Without me saying a word about it, it was like he knew I was close because of how fast he got all of a sudden. Thrusting his tongue until my legs were shaking. I cried out, reaching for and tugging on his hair. Toge groaned on me, sounding like he was annoyed, “Cum already.”

Those were real. He actually said that. And I couldn’t respond to it because my first instant reaction was to scream, collapsing forward onto the arm of the bench to hold tight as I rocked my hips.

All of my juices fell out of me and anything that couldn’t be caught by him dripped down the sides of his cheeks onto the floor. I twitched and lifted myself off, my shoes thudding on the concrete as I tried to regain my balance. Jesus, fuck, I can’t believe he did that. I can’t believe WE did that. I was so dizzy from it, I didn’t know how I was awake. My hand reached up to rub my forehead.

Although, I had no idea that Inumaki had different plans. The sound of another command from him frightening me to my core, “Take them off.” I didn’t even know what he was telling me to take off but I went for his pants anyway, guessing that he could mean something and I would still do it despite not knowing. His ability was something else. And to say that I’m not freaked out about what he was telling me to do was an understatement.

Toge was making me hook up with him. Not like I wasn’t going to in the first place, I’m only confirming this because he was going down this route and I shamefully liked it. Well, loved it…

After taking his cargo pants off of him and resting them at his knees, he helped take off his boxers next, making me cover my eyes out of sheer inexperience. I’ve never seen one in real life. And here I was about to see Toge’s. This was my first time. He seemed to get how I was feeling because he patted my head for reassurance, cooing at me in thought, “Take your time… Sorry that I’m so eager. I hope you aren’t minding, {Y/N}..”

Oh no, I was far from minding. I snickered at myself and dropped my hands from my face, excusing my behavior, “Crap…! I don’t mean to act like a kid! I haven’t done this and it’s so nerve-wracking!” Red was covering my cheeks once again as I glanced over to see his exposed erection, becoming a flustered heaping pile of mush.

Toge huffed, “That’s why I was saying uh… those commands.. If I keep doing it, will that help?” Sounding so sexually frustrated that I was starting to feel bad for holding out. But, he was suggesting an actual solution that had been working. It made sense.

So, I agreed, “Yeah… actually.” And he cleared his throat with a squint to his eyes, quickly adjusting himself. It was crazy seeing the words really leaving his mouth, “Ride me.” That could go for what he was telling me to do as well.

Feeling my body go on autopilot, both of my legs straddled the sides of Inumaki’s hips, and I began lowering myself until his tip was prodding around my inner thigh. My hand grabbed the base once I struggled for a minute, aligning it against my entrance to ease his shaft into me.

A gasp escaped my lungs, moans cascading afterward while I shakily grabbed onto both of his shoulders, his arms wrapping around my waist to hold and guide me on him. Fucking into me as I bounced lightly. I could feel how small I was for him from his dick refusing to slide out at some points. Like my body was trying to keep him inside.

We groaned in unison, syncing with each other’s movements, my voice pitching when he brushed into a spot that he abused earlier. He memorized where it was and aimed directly for it, his eyebrows knitting together as sweat dripped down from his forehead. It was so good. He felt so good. And he had a look to his face that I would never forget.

After fifteen minutes of doing it out in the open, someone was finally about to walk past and I sensed them barely seconds before they could see us. Pretending to have fell asleep on Toge once the person arrived. His jacket placed over our lower halves.

“What’s up Inumaki? Aaaaannnnd… {Y/N}…” the sound of Maki’s voice made me internally cringe as she seemed like she was getting closer. Making me pray that she wouldn’t get any ideas about what was going on. If she found out, we wouldn’t hear the end of it.

He gave his usual greeting, “Konbu..” Playing it off surprisingly well with the tone of his speech, no stutters whatsoever. Even though I could feel his dick throbbing inside of me and that was not helping my case in fighting against the demand he gave.

I tried to steady my breathing into the soft breaths like I do when I’m about to fall asleep, panicking in my mind, forgetting that Toge can hear, “I want to so badly.! I need to! I need to!” In my defense, I really couldn’t help it. He told me to do it in cursed speech. Every part of my body was screaming at me to, pain coursing through my skin when I denied the action.

Maki’s voice lowered, sounding like she was getting suspicious which terrified me, “What is she doing lying on you like that, Inumaki?” But, I couldn’t think of anything from the burn of the speech curse and it seemed like he knew that. Because even as she was right there and asking him, he began to subtly roll his hips into me, helping relieve it.

The way he said the ingredients in response were getting a bit butchered, “Nntsuna m-mayo..” And his swear word kept slipping when he pushed himself deeper into me, “Ikura…” I held my breath as I tried not to make a single noise. Too hard. Way too hard. This was such a dangerous game to play. But, why did I love it so much?

It seemed like Maki knew something was up from the way she responded, although she didn’t know what, “Ooookay… Well, I’m not going to get any information out of you any time soon.” Keeping it at that, I could make out her energy walking away from us to the other side. A huge wave of relief washed over me as I arched back into a sitting position on him, spreading my legs so he could move more freely. We were right back into it with our lust at an all time high.

Toge did most of the work when it came to it, but he didn’t seem to care. His dedication in making me feel amazing nothing short. Fingers slipping down to play with my bud after I became labored in my moans, edging me closer and closer into cumming again. My walls tightened around him before more of my liquids rushed out onto his lap, becoming a huge mess.

I wanted to apologize for ruining the bottom half of his shirt, but I couldn’t. He wouldn’t let me, continuously ramming into me until he was approaching his own end. There were several actual curses from him inside of his head as he neared it, no longer those innocent food items he loved, “Fuck.. How does it feel so.. tight? Fuck, that feels too good..! Y/N}… I think I’m going to… I need to..!”

Then he pulled out at the very last moment to cum around my lower back, most of it landing on my underwear and sabotaging them like I had with his clothing.

I was exhausted, both of us panting and taking a break by resting on the bench. Pulling up my panties as dirty as that was. I liked to think it was like a finishing touch. I gave him a small peck on the cheek, muttering weakly, “I like you… Toge…” Too shy to say the word ‘Love’ despite what we did just now.

Using the last of my strength, I kept up the connection of our brains to hear him reply back, not hearing a hesitation to his voice in the slightest, “I love you, {Y/N}.” Then I passed out on him quickly after, ironically fulfilling what we feigned earlier.

[olsenmyolsen]

Bullseye

master list

dark master list

Post Hawkeye (Deaf Female Reader X Kate Bishop)

Summary: Your cute new friend Kate learns ASL for you.

Word Count: 4.4K

Content None I think... just cuteness.

Two weeks ago, Kate Bishop saw you across the library.

She had just finished classes and was rushing to pick up a book she needed for an essay she HAD NOT started when she saw you.

She hadn't seen you around before, and Kate was instantly mesmerized by how your cute face scrunched as you kept your head low to read. Kate couldn't take her eyes away, and she got to see your smile when you enjoyed a particular moment of your book.

Kate loved seeing your smile and how your eyes lit up.

Kate looked at her phone and truly needed to find the book and leave now or never. But on that day, Kate Bishop was feeling bold. Blame on the need for a certain thrill since Clint took her off Hawkeye duties to focus on school, but Kate started walking towards you.

You, however, never saw or heard her coming. Not when she tripped over her own feet. And not even when she stumbled sitting down next to you.

You had no idea Kate Bishop existed.

Maybe you would have if you had your aids in, but they made you feel embarrassed and inadequate, something you've struggled with for years. Something a certain someone would help you with in time. But, for now, you choose to go without them 99% of the time.

So when Kate started with a simple greeting, that turned into an overcomplicated rambling where she gave you numerous unwanted compliments.

You didn't hear it.

In fact, you didn't even look over to the now slummed-over pretty girl with the blue-grey eyes until she slammed her head on the table in defeat.

The vibrations of the repeated knock of the head against wood alerting you.

You put a bookmark in your book before closing it to look around, hoping maybe someone lost their friend because you had no idea why she was sitting at your table.

But at last, no one had lost the captain of the archery team. So you waited for her to look up, hoping to get an answer, and when she did, you're lucky your mouth didn't drop open.

She was gorgeous. Stunning actually. You had no idea why she was sitting here, but now you didn't want her to leave. You were about to lift your hand when you saw her eyes open in shock before her pink lips started speaking a hundred miles per minute.

Too fast for you to keep up.

You tried to get her to stop, but before you knew it, the last thing you saw was her black ponytail bouncing away.

You didn't know what to make of the last two minutes, but there wasn't much you could do. So, with a frown and shrug of the shoulder, you returned to your book. Wishing you got a chance to say anything.

Exiting the library, Kate Bishop was red in the face. You had just sat there ignoring her as she tripped over all of her words and called you beautiful and babe within two sentences. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She wanted to stab herself with an arrow. Badly!

Kate shook her head because that wasn't even the worst part.

The worst part was when you finally looked at her. You acknowledged her. Kate was already embarrassed enough. So she apologized and claimed that she would never bother you again.

But yet here she was two weeks later. Spotting you from across the library just like before.

"Go!" Kate felt a nudge on her arm from her friend Laura Kinney—a fast friend of Kate after transferring from Canada a year prior.

Kate looked back at her friend. "Stop that! I'm not going." Laura rolled eyes. "You talked about this one chick not stop-"

"No! I talked about how I embarrassed myself once! You're the one who keeps bringing it up!"

Laura shook her head and nudged her friend again. "Go! She's cute, and if you don't go, I will." Kate turned her head to her friend, surprised, but saw that maybe her friend wasn't kidding. "Ugh." Kate turned back to look at you. "Fine! Okay! I'll try again!"

"Good luck!" Laura called out, knowing Kate would need it. Kate sent a thumbs up and did her best to calm her nerves. "Just apologize and don't ramble," Kate whispered to herself as she reached your table.

However, before Kate could do anything, you closed your book and turned away from Kate to put it in your bag—the action meant nothing to you. But to Kate, it would appear you didn't want anything to do with her.

That thought was further cemented when you got up without looking at her and started walking away.

Without realizing it, Kate began to walk after you.

Her walk turned into a quick jog when her brain finally caught up to what was happening. She was right behind you when she said: "Excuse me! Hi!"

Yet you kept walking.

Okay, the library is busy, and maybe Kate could've spoken up a bit louder, so she tried again, HOPING that you weren't actively trying to get away from her.

"Hi! Sorry to bother you, but I..." She trailed off when you kept moving forward, keeping your head staring straight ahead at the library's exit doors. Kate was growing embarrassed and did the one thing she could think of.

She ran ahead and turned around, stopping you in your tracks.

"Hi!" Kate breathed out with a wave, coming face to face with you for the first time. You looked up from her lips, surprised at who was standing in front of you.

It was her!

Hi. You waved back with a questioning look to Kate's beautiful eyes before looking down to her lips—something Kate noticed.

"Sorry to bother you, but I don't know if you remember me but..." That was all you caught reading her lips before Kate started speaking quicker and quicker than you could process.

In your defense, even Clint Barton, an Avenger, said Kate had more speed talking than Captain America did running.

You held your hand up, shutting Kate up. She looked at you with curious eyes and waited to hear your voice, but instead, you started signing.

I do remember you.

Kate immediately felt embarrassed. She knew very little to almost nothing of what you were saying.

She promised Clint she would start learning when he began teaching, but for someone who helped save the world, he could still be stubborn. But now The Archer regretted not learning ASL.

Kate awkwardly smiled, making you smile back, in turn, causing Kate's face to flush red. You caught it. While looking at one another, you both thought the other person was beyond cute.

"I'm sorry," Kate spoke slower than she usually would. You tilted your head as she continued. "I don't know ASL."

You made a flat smile and nodded. Most people didn't. So it wasn't surprising that the first new cute girl to talk to you in some time didn't know it either. It just meant it would be harder to forget her when she inevitably didn't want to make the effort.

But you had never met Kate Bishop till before this moment. You didn't know that she was just as stubborn as her mentor but a thousand times more annoying when she needed to be. She wasn't going to give up.

She was going to learn for you.

She was going to speak to you.

Kate watched you nod and go to walk away, but she stepped in front of you again. "Wait!" She held her hands up and quickly pulled out her phone, handing it to you. You took it as it sat on the New Contact screen and looked up with furrowed brows. "Please?" Kate asked, making you nod and blush.

Kate watched your fingers fly over the keyboard before you handed it back. You watched Kate smile and try not to laugh at your contact name: Y/N 👂❌

You bite back your own laughter. Having been used to not everyone being comfortable with something you lost at a young age.

Kate looked up to see your smile and finally broke laughing. Her pearly whites were on display until she closed her mouth and started typing in her phone.

A few seconds later, yours buzzed in your pocket. Pulling it out, you looked up and smiled. The text read: "Hi Y/N. I'm Kate Bishop 🏹!" You nodded and made that her contact name.

"So Kate Bishop... what can I do you for?"

You typed and immediately regretted sending because you sounded like someone who was a boring attorney. But Kate found it kind of charming.

You looked down from her as the three dots popped up and down, but nothing happened. You looked back up at Kate, who was nervously biting her lip.

"You ok?" You typed to Kate, who stopped biting her lip, avoided your eye contact, and replied: "Yes. Sorry!" But Kate wanted to say more. She wanted to say: "I was going to ask for your number earlier, but we kinda blew through that quicker than I imagined. So now I don't know what to do?! Do I ask you out now? Is that allowed? Would you say yes?! You don't even know me!?"

But Kate didn't say that. Instead, she wrote: "I tried talking to you a couple of weeks ago because you seemed like a really cool person. Which you are! Ugh sorry. This is so embarrassing as I type this, but I wanted to know if you wanted to be friends? 😅"

Kate added the emoji, hoping to relieve any awkwardness. And it did. But Kate asking you to be friends wasn't where you thought this was going.

Truth be told, it wasn't.

But Katherine Elizabeth "Kate" Bishop wasn't going to ask you out over text. She was going to ask you face-to-face, and she didn't want you to read her lips to make it happen.

Yet you didn't know that. All you knew was that a cute, friendly girl was choosing to seek you out and wanted to get to know you. So you smiled and nodded to Kate, whose eyes lit up. "Great!" She audibly yelled, earning a fury of looks from people around.

But a smile from you.

"Sorry." You read Kates lips as she looked around at people shaking their heads and looking away.

Kate looked down at her buzzing phone to see a message from you. "Maybe we should leave the library. Are you busy rn?" Kate froze as she looked at the words on her screen. She was supposed to be courting you. Asking you out in time. Were you flirting? No. This is just what friends do. Hang out! The two of you were now friends! Right?

Kate's turmoil-struck brain could only process so much so fast before she decided to actually look at the time and realize, yes, she was supposed to be somewhere right now. Kate sent you a frown. "I actually should be on my way to archery practice."

That made a lightbulb go off above you. That's why she wanted her name like that in your phone. You thought Kate was being cute and was saying she was Cupid or was sent by Cupid or something. However, her being on the archery team made a lot more sense. You felt silly for thinking it was the former. But you pressed on.

"I have a free period right now. Can I come?"

Kate looked up from her phone and nodded with glee. "I'd love that!" Kate yelled once again, earning glares from everyone else in the room, but the two of you paid them no mind as Kate started leading the way.

On the walk, Kate and you enjoyed one another's company while also learning about the other one. It was new and slightly awkward but adorable to any outsider looking in. Like when you asked Kate if she took up archery because of the Hunger Games, she laughed and said no. She did it because she was saved by Hawkeye during the Battle of New York.

The very same battle you lost your hearing.

But Kate didn't know. She would in time.

Not right now.

The conversation about Hawkeye led to the two of you talking about your favorite Avengers. Kate's being obvious, and yours surprising her.

You said Natasha Romanoff—the Black Widow.

When asked why, you just sadly shrugged before replying through text: "The Avengers were all great. Most of them were role models. But none of them looked as good as she did in her uniform." You laughed to hide the tears in your eyes.

But Kate saw, leading you to type: "Plus, I bet she gave the best hugs." Kate smiled at that and could agree. Her and Wanda Maximoff probably gave the best hugs.

Where was Wanda, by the way??

Kate's phone buzzed, bringing her back. "Sorry... I could give actual reasons, but I don't want to cry right now." You smiled and swallowed the lump in your throat when Kate looked over at you.

Because Kate could relate, she had only gotten to hear Clint share less than a handful of stories about The Black Widow, and each time, they ended with the man in tears.

"I have a friend who's the same. It's okay." Kate sent back to you, making you feel better before you asked her if she had read Scott Lang's book, to which she said not yet.

Meanwhile, it was in your backpack.

Three weeks from now, she would borrow it and read the chapter dedicated to Natasha and cry.

As you and Kate walked up to the field holding practice, you had Kate lead you to a spot where you could safely watch from. Unbeknownst to you, the other girls around you were friends or girlfriends of the ladies on the team. So when people saw you walk up with THE Katherine Bishop, everyone started talking in hushed whispers.

But not that you knew.

However, you couldn't lie. Watching Kate's arms and fingers hold and mess around with something that's basically string and wood never looked so hot. On top of that, the shy, awkward, almost annoyingly cute girl you had become quick friends with didn't exist anymore. When the arrow flew from her fingers, she was confident, cocky, and dominant.

Also, she was easily the best of the team. Hot.

The warmth rising in you hit a tipping point when she pointed at you and then to the bullseye on the target before mouthing, "watch this." You expected Kate to turn and look to where she was shooting, but she didn't. She looked straight at you and let the arrow go. Your eyes went from Kate to the target.

Bullseye.

The girls around you erupted into a mixture of cheers, shock, and jealousy. They all turned to you, confusing you before you saw a couple of them smile and point back to Kate as if they were praising the two of you.

You're fairly certain you saw the word "girlfriend" being thrown around, but you just shook your head and waited for Kate to come to your rescue.

_

Over the next couple of months, as the season of spring was winding down to make way for the heat of summer, you and Kate had only grown closer. Your friendship had turned the two of you into being the best of friends.

Often being mistaken for girlfriends.

A mistake that always left you and Kate blushing but never saying how awful it would be if that was the case.

It was like there was a silent understanding. Kate knew what she was waiting for, and you were too nice and kind to even think about jeopardizing what you two had.

It was expected that if one of you was around, the other one had to be within ten feet. And this was true—most times. But there had been times in the past where if you woke up in the middle of the night after passing out while reading, you'd discover Kate gone. Her bag and clothes would still be there, but she was just gone. Well, herself and... her archery equipment.

That part confused you.

You wanted to bring it up to her. Because for one reason, whatever she was doing was making her exhausted. You could see it on her face better than anyone. She was tired mentally and physically. You didn't like seeing her like that.

The other reason is that it hurt you to see someone you cared about lying to you. You hated it and didn't want to hate the girl who started holding your hand on your walks across campus. The one who never missed a bullseye for you. The same girl who decided to read The Hunger Games instead of just watching the movies for you.

So when you couldn't bear yourself to bring it up to her, you decided to wait up and catch her.

Kate had no idea you had started to catch onto her. But it's not like Kate enjoyed sneaking around. Well, she did, but that was when she was chasing bad guys and doing some recon. But she hated it when it came to you. Sneaking around behind your back felt wrong, no matter the cause.

So, as Kate quietly picked up her bow and quiver, she looked over at your sleeping form and made a motion with her hands.

You didn't see it as you faked sleeping. But if you did, you would've understood why Kate was being sneaky.

Kate turned away from you and took a few steps towards her window. Kate opened it and reached back behind her when suddenly you flicked on the light in the bedroom of her dorm as she looked ready to jump out of her window. A labeled arrow prepared to fire.

Kate slowly lowered the bow and turned her head to you. You stood wearing her high school archery t-shirt and a pair of black shorts.

Kate couldn't help but smile. She loved seeing you in her clothes.

And you loved seeing her in yours, but right now, that was the last thing on your mind as Kate sheepishly said: "It's not what it looks like."

You threw your arms up at that and ran up to her, smacking your head as if to say, "what the hell are you doing?"

Kate sighed and knew that now was the time to say one thing or the other. Or maybe both?? Kate weighed her options before gently placing her bow on the bed you two had come to share. As friends of course.

You watched Kate let go of the bow before her hands found their way to yours. Taking them from your hips.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." She started as you watched her pink lips speak. Tilting your head at the words she spilled before she softly let go of your hands to unzip her purple hoodie.

You gasped and covered your mouth when you saw what she was hiding. You looked from her guilty eyes back to her purple suit. Kate watched you step forward and raise a hand to her hip. The touch making her stomach flip while two of your fingers danced along the edge before gliding up the lining of the suit before they floated away.

Kate missing your contact already.

You couldn't believe what you were seeing. But yet, it made sense.

You'd been to enough practices to know the only match for Kate with a bow and arrow would be an Avenger. You looked to Kate's downward face and put your finger on the underside of her chin. Lifting it up. Her eyes meeting yours. You weren't mad. Well, you were, but if anything, now you were just shocked.

Are you Hawkeye? You signed without realizing it.

Yes. Kate signed ba— KATE SIGNED!

You took a step back in awe. Did that happen? You swallowed and stared at the girl, holding back a smile dressed in a purple superhero suit. Slowly, you raised your hands and, with a deep breath, signed: You can understand me?

Yes.Kate signed the exact same way as before, surprising you once again.

She was communicating with you in ASL. Your best friend- someone you cared for- No someone who you loved was signing!

Tears were threatening to spill as you ran into Kate and wrapped your arms around her. Your head burying its way into her neck. Kate wrapping her arms around you, holding you tight.

As Kate held you, she heard your sniffles and felt a few tears spill from your eyes. Kate bit her lip to keep her eyes from spilling.

It was then she decided she would keep the night of surprises going. So, after some time, she patted her hand against your back and removed her hold from you as you moved back to look at her. Your eyes were a little red, but Kate could see what was holding in them.

Kate smiled and started moving her hands. Since I met you, I've been learning ASL.

Your mouth dropped. With who? You could've asked me!?

You would've loved to teach Kate. But it had to be done this way.

Kate didn't answer you. Instead, she pulled out her phone and went to a secret photo album you had never seen before. Inside were pictures of her with Lucky, a family, some friends, and lastly... Clint Barton.

You looked up from the phone to Kate and back to the phone—Full-on, yanking it from her hands. You zoomed in on his face and then Kates before sliding through other pictures of the two of them together. A lot of them were unflattering pics of the grown man while Kate smiled brightly. But then there were some where Clint smiled and posed ridiculously for his mentee. You laughed and smiled at each one, including the ones of his family surrounding Kate.

You swiped once more, and a video automatically started to play. You felt the vibrations in your hand but couldn't make anything out. However, Kate knew exactly what was happening in the video.

It was Kate's first ASL lesson months prior. But that didn't start till ten minutes in. Instead, what was playing right now to the room was Kate in the video going on and on about this new friend of hers named Y/N. Kate mentions that you are the reason that she wants to learn sign language.

Slightly and purposely offending Clint.

"Okay, so let's say I manage to teach you, and you manage to learn, then what?"

Clint asks in the video.

"Then I ask her out."

Kate replies.

You looked up from the video to Kate. Asking why she is blushing, Kate takes a step closer to you and asks for her cell phone back. You place it in her hand. She hits the button on the side before putting it in her pocket.

I learned for you.

You watch Kate sign and mouth simultaneously, the feeling of wanting to cry from pure happiness returning. Why? You asked Kate as you smiled.

Kate lifts her hands and stops. She starts to sign but stops again.

The Archer breathes in and out.

Because ever since I met you, I've wanted to do one thing. Kate waits for you to nod back to her. I- Y/N... Y/N, do you want to go out?

She signs with a nervous smile.

Together? Sometime, like on a date. A real date! One where we dress up and go out on the town, not just eat junk in my-

You surprised Kate by jumping into her arms. Cutting off her ramblings in ASL. Kate barely had time to register to catch you before she felt just how soft your lips were.

Kate closed her eyes and melted into you. She marveled at the feeling of your smile as the kiss deepened. You pushed further into her and felt butterflies flutter inside of you at what you've wanted for so long.

Kate felt the same and would vow to always hold you closer than anyone ever could as she pulled you into her. Taking you all in.

Eventually, air had to return into your lungs.

You blushed harder when you and Kate separated. The heavy breathing between the two of you being the only noise in the room.

Yes, you signed when Kate placed you onto your feet. "You want to go out? With me?" Kate said, knowing you were watching her lips. But maybe she was wrong when she saw you shake your head no.

You moved back a bit as Kate kept her arms around your body.

I want to be your girlfriend. 

Kate looked at you, making sure she saw that right. "Girlfriend?!" She asked with a glint of hope. You smiled and brought your lips to hers as you nodded before moving your hands down to hers. Taking them off your body and placing them in yours as you moved them.

You kissed Kate again as she traced her fingers over your left hand, discovering the pinky and index finger were raised. She moved from your index finger down to your extended thumb.

She pulled back and looked at your hand watching it move towards her.

Kate brought her hands up to your face and quickly kissed your lips before she moved onto your cheeks and nose, forcing a giggle out of you.

When she let go of your head, she looked into your eyes and said with an unmistakable smile: "I love you too. I love you so much!"

Kate wrapped you into her arms and held you close before she could feel you patting her back.

When she let go, you smiled and asked: So girlfriends?

Kate nodded.Girlfriends.

A million more questions ran through you as you stood in Kate's arms. But before you could stop yourself, you started with: Oh, and Kate... You laughed and signed to her before continuing. Since I'm dating Hawkeye, do I get a cool name?

Kate laughed back and raised an eyebrow. "Sure! What would you want to be called?"

You tucked your bottom lip into your mouth as you thought. An action making Kate pull your lip out of your mouth with her thumb before bringing it to her lips, almost frying your brain to the point that you nearly didn't say your answer. Bullseye.

"Why is that?"

You shrugged but hid behind an innocent smile. Your eyes briefly darting to Kate's closet before looking back to Kate.

Because I want to be the only thing you can stick your arrow in.

dividers by @/benkeibear