#autistic!reader

[krys4h]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥,

౨ৎ                                               𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 + 𝐨𝐧𝐲 + 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬◞﹒୧ . Eren, Ony and Connie have a crush on the same woman: the cute, sweet and autistic girl always dressed in pink who works in the restaurant next to their university. Eren loves you because you're so soft when he's so rough, Only loves you because you're always so polite with him, Connie loves you because he has a thing for chubby women like you. You’re always so shy with them, you have no idea to what extent they want to ruin you. When at a college party they find you crying because your boyfriend Jean cheated on you, they offer you revenge with them. You’re a good girl who has never done anything too freaky with anyone so you don’t really know how to handle three dicks inside you. But don’t worry, they will take good care of you. And show you that you can be loved exactly as you are.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬◞﹒୧ . 10.3k words, black!fem!reader, plus!size!reader, college au, hyper feminine autistic reader w/ social anxiety, hispanic!connie, plug!eren, basketball!player!ony, pervert stuff & stalking, polyamory, romance, affection, reassurance, male friendships, connie calls you ‘mami’ and ‘princesa’, ‘sweetheart/baby/bitch’ by eren, ‘baby/love/mama’ by ony, hard!dom!eren, soft!dom!ony, submissive!connie, gay ass stuff between the boys, mild daddy kink with eren, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, masturbation, choking, blowjob, handjob, vaginal sex, rough sex, gentle sex, shower sex, standing sex, somno, double penetration, consensual recording, hair pulling, overstimulation, cumming on face, crying from pleasure, titty fucking, slapping, dumbification but on a man !

𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬◞﹒୧ . finally a new fic since january!!!! very SCARED of your reactions because my characterization of the boys isn't that popular so i hope yall will like it <333

˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 : 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 + 𝐨𝐧𝐲 + 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

‘Kiss of Life’ by Sade was playing in the restaurant, making you hum along as you cleaned the tables left by the last customers. Nearby, Eren, Ony, and Connie were watching you intently, as usual.

“Shazam that song, she seems to like it,” Eren ordered Connie, nudging him.

Connie lazily looked up from his phone to look at his best friend. “It's Sade. You have no memory, 'Ren. She always hums when one of their songs, come on.”

He still used Shazam to find out the exact name of the song and added it to the ‘sweet baby’ playlist that he, Eren, and Ony had created to catalog all your favorite songs.

“She's wearing a new dress,” Ony noticed. The three boys' eyes ran over your body.

You were wearing a new dress that you had bought the day before. It hugged your chubby body perfectly, stopping halfway up your thick thighs. The pale pink fabric brought out the luminous glow of your brown skin. Made of satin and molding to your curves in the most exquisite way, with thin straps that barely supported your breasts, the ribbon bow at the center of your chest made your sexy outfit cute. Your long braids was tied in a low bun held by a ribbon bow at the back, leaving your pretty round face uncovered. Your eyelids were enhanced with glittery pink eyeshadow, your long false eyelashes made your gaze so seductive, and your lips were glossy, looking so delicious. A literal angel. Eren, Ony, and Connie would eat you up if they could.

Eren adjusted his bulge in his black sweatpants and tried to look away so as not to worsen his erection by staring at you, while Connie and Ony were still staring, completely unashamed of looking like creeps. Your Mary Jane heels clicked on the floor as you walked around the restaurant taking orders from your little notebook, and when you arrived at the three men's table, your eyes lit up, happy to see them.

They were your favorite customers. They'd been coming to eat at the restaurant three times a week for at least a year. You didn't know how they'd managed to always be there during your shifts—Connie had threatened your boss to give him your work schedule—but it was always a pleasure to see them. They always complimented you and were so sweet to you, nothing like the old men who had wives and looked at you with lust in their eyes.

The most intimidating one was Eren. He was always dressed in black with a hood over his head that hid his face, but you could glimpse his neck tattoos peeking out from under his hoodie. His eyes were always hald-lidded and red from weed, staring intensely into your soul when you took his order, sending shivers down your spine. He was known as the university's plug; you'd never used his services, but his deep voice spoke to you so sweetly that you considered buying from him so he could talk to you privately.

The friendliest was Ony. Compared to Eren's dark appearance, Ony exuded light. You would have to be a psychoapth to not to like Ony's intelligence and kindness. He loved fashion and taking care of himself, you both always talked about skincare and clothes. He played basketball on your university team, making him the most popular of the trio. You loved learning about his sport, and hear the passion in his voice when he talked about Lamelo Ball. He was a bit of a star on campus but was the least arrogant man you'd ever met, always smiling softly when you talked to him, making you feel so safe and care for.

The most flirtatious was Connie. You could never look him in the eye when he called you ‘princesa’, joking about how you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. You never knew if he called you ‘mami’ just because it was normal for latino men, or if he was actually trying to flirt with you. Like Eren, he often wore his hood up, hiding his eyebrow piercings, but he wasn't as intimidating. He always had a teasing glint in his eyes that made you flutter.

“Hey,” you said shyly, approaching their table.

As always, Eren was stoned out, his pupils dilated as he looked at you, making your spine tingle. Ony’s lips curved into a smile, clenching his tattooed hand to bump his fists against yours.

You didn’t have any friends because of your social anxiety, only Jean as a boyfriend, so it always made you happy when they treated you like one of their own, even though they were just regular customers you sometimes ran into at university.

“The usual?” you asked, already knowing what they were going to order. A cheeseburger with fries for Ony (don’t tell Reiner, his coach, that he loves that), a steak with fries for Eren, and a salad for Connie.

“No, I want something sweeter today,” Connie replied, leaning back against the back of his chair. Eren smirked, understanding perfectly what his best friend really wanted.

“You just want dessert today?” You tilted your head.

Ony’s eyes softened; you looked so cute with your head cocked to the side.

“Nah.” Connie’s voice grew seductive. “Just you.”

Your autistic brain, which didn’t quite grasp irony and sarcasm, made you wear a confused expression. “Hm, what do you mean?”

Connie just licked his lips, his gaze lingering on your fat thighs. “Nothing, mami.”

“Is that a new dress?” Ony asked, tugging at the hem. “You always wear frilly dresses.”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, enthusiastic and all smiles. You loved fashion so much; you were happy that Ony, who was also a fashion boy, noticed your new clothes. “My boyfriend said frills were childish, so I’m trying out a new style.”

The trio frowned and looked at each other, silently saying, “We should kill that motherfucker.”

“Break up with him,” Eren advised, his face hard.

You shook your head, your heart squeezing painfully at the thought of leaving the only man who accepted your autism without judging you. “N-No, it’s okay.” You looked at your feet, your lips trembling as you realized that the only reason you were with Jean was because he didn’t make you feel different from other girls, not because you actually loved him. You needed so much validation from others.

Ony caressed your thigh, sliding his hand up under your dress to grasp the plushness.

“Hey, it’s okay, baby. ‘Ren is kidding.’”

“I’m dead serious, man.”

Ony's gentle caresses on your skin relaxed you, and your autistic brain didn't really grasp that this was inappropriate contact between friends. You just thought he was being kind. Your face softened, and Ony took a perverse pleasure in exploiting your lack of understanding of social cues. 

After the chef prepared their meals, you brought them. As you placed the tray on their tables, you dropped a glass, which shattered. You apologized and bent down to pick up the shards, the skirt of your dress lifting up. Eren glanced at your ass, now visible to everyone, lingering on the way your panties molded your folds. His gut twisted in arousal.

“Connie, take a picture,” Eren whispered.

“I’m your lapdog or something? I only like orders from her, idiot,” Connie muttered but silently took a picture of your body under your dress. They had a whole dossier like that. Photos of you smiling at other customers, photos of you space-outing, photos of you studying in the university library… They were perverts. And stalkers. They didn't really care that it was wrong.

When you finally picked up your mess from the floor, you gave them a shy smile that accentuated their secret erections before walking away.

What a cute angel. You had no idea these men were devils.

────────

'I saw Jean with a girl at a frat party, I'm so sorry sweetheart I think he's cheating on you :((' 

Your stomach dropped when you saw Sasha's text message, your world crumbled in minutes. 

It wasn't possible. 

You and Jean had been together for two years. You'd experienced all your firsts with him. He was the first boy who didn't think you were too much, the first boy who didn't seem to see your autism as a burden, the first boy who made you believe that a weird girl like you could finally be loved. He couldn't have cheated on you. Jean loved you. He told you every day. You weren't too much for him. Please, you hope it was a misunderstanding. 

You got out of bed, where you'd been studying your botany books, and went to your closet. You'd never been to a frat party because your social anxiety made it difficult for you. Places where there were too many people scared you too. You preferred to stay safe in your apartment, in your bed with satin sheets and stuffed with plushies.

You slipped into a pink denim skirt, a matching bustier top, and your white Naked Wolfe platform boots. You let your long pale pink goddess braids cascade down your back, hoping your outfit was cool enough for a frat party and people wouldn’t overdose with all the pink on you.

Sasha sent you the address, and you left your apartment with a knot in your stomach.

A two-year relationship couldn't end like this. Jean loved you, right? You weren't some unlovable woman who was going to end up alone for the rest of her life, were you?

You clutched the strap of your bag, looking at the floor as you entered the frat house. You didn't want to see the sea of ​​students; it would trigger a panic attack. Rap ​​music blasted from the party's big speakers; maybe a Big Boogie song. People laughed and yelled along to the lyrics. The smell of alcohol, tobacco, and marijuana were everywhere, and you felt like you were in hell. There were too many stimuli all around you, enveloping you and making your brain confused, unable to function properly.

You raised your head, your heart pounding. You had to look around to find Jean. You inspected the ground floor, trying to ignore how your body stiffened when you brushed against the sweaty bodies of the dancers. You hated physical contact because of your autism; you needed to be in a comfortable environment to be touched because of your sensory issues. Sex needed to be gradual.

And then, as you climbed the stairs, reaching the first floor, you saw him. 

Pressing Mikasa's body against the wall, his head buried in her neck, his hips grinding into her.

You stood paralyzed, watching them, your heart aching.

You knew Mikasa well. She was a goth girl who was in the same major as Jean. You'd already seen them hanging out together, and Jean had told you she was just a friend.

You didn't yell that he was an asshole. You didn't try to separate them.

You turned around, went downstairs, and left the fraternity house to sit on the sidewalk.

Was it because she understood sarcasm and didn't need the same jokes repeated to her to get the humor?

Was it because she knew how to be quiet when she was passionate about something instead of yapping for hours about a topic nobody cared about, annoying everyone around you?

Was it because she didn't shut down when she was upset?

Was it because she knew how to recognize her feelings when she experienced strong emotions instead of being unable to speak and explain what she felt?

Was it because she didn't need childish things like plushies for comfort?

Was it because she was interested in grown-up things instead of being obsessed with dolls?

You wrapped your arms around your knees and let the tears flow.

As always, because of your autism, you never knew what you were feeling and struggled to identify your emotions. Was it heartbreak? You weren't even in love with Jean. He was just a boy who gave you attention when everyone else rejected you.

No, it was failure.

Failure because you were both not enough and too much. You just wanted to curl up in bed, hug your plushies tightly, and forget that you were an unlovable woman.

To make matters worse, a torrential downpour soaked your clothes, making them wet and sticky, sending shivers of discomfort down your spine. You hated it when your clothes felt too tight because of your sensory issues; it almost hurt and could cause meltdowns.

A flashback of Jean telling you he loved you in the missionary position and that you were his favorite girl intensified your tears.

Could you really blame Jean?

Who would want a girl like you?

A shy girl who was scared of eye contact, never spoke in public, and barely managed to hold a conversation without getting distracted.

You wished you were a normal girl. You wished you were better at hiding your symptoms. You wished you fit in more easily in society.

“Who stole your smile, mami?” A deep voice boomed in front of you, and someone flicked your forehead. You lifted your teary eyes and met Connie's gaze. Next to him, Eren had his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans, his hood still pulled up, but you could see his concerned expression. Ony held a coat over you to keep the rain from soaking you even more.

You parted your lips, trying to speak, but no words came out. You felt so many emotions that your brain couldn't function anymore. You were happy to see them; they always brightened your day, but tonight, you were so depressed. You failed at love. You were unlovable.

The combination of your clothes clinging to your skin, the loud music blasting from the frat house, and your pain—you just buried your head in your thighs, ignoring everything around you.

Several muscular arms wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground, and when you raised your head, you were sitting in a car with them.

They drove for a good hour on purpose so you could calm down and refocus on your bodily sensations. The silence of the car calmed your distress for a moment, and you remained silent until they drove you to their apartment.

You were so depressed that you followed them without a word to their place, instead of asking them for a ride home. When you entered their living room, you sat on their couch, staring at the floor.

Eren casually slumped down next to you and put an arm around your shoulders.

“Where is my bubbly girl?”

“Dead,” you muttered.

He chuckled lowly.

“Don’t say stuff like this, I would be very heartbroken if you died.”

“I doubt it.” You were playing with the bottom of your skirt. “You will replace me easily like my boyfriend did when he cheated on me.”

Eren glanced at Ony, seeming to say ‘emotional stuff is for you, man’, and Ony sat down next to you. He placed his hand on your thick thigh, squeezing the plushness, his voice gentle.

“He cheated on you?”

You nodded, silently. There was nothing else to say.

“You don’t feel like you can change him and the need to go back to him like some abused women do?” Connie asked, standing with his hands in the pockets of his pants.

“Not really. I think it’s clear I wasn’t the right woman for him.”

“You mean, he wasn’t the right man for you,” Eren corrected.

“No.” You shook your head. “I don’t blame him.” 

Connie tsked.

“Princesa, you talk like those abused women.”

“Yeah,” Ony joined the conversation, “I don’t like how you’re talking right now, mama.”

 Your eyes watered again as you thought of all the reasons Jean was right to cheat on you.

“You don’t understand,” you sniffed.

Eren leaned against you, his warm breath caressing your neck as he spoke into your ear, his deep voice making you shiver.

“Then explain, sweetheart.” 

Ony kissed the tears that were running down your chubby cheeks, and you suddenly felt strangely cared for. Like a warm blanket over your bruised heart. Wrapped in gentle warmth. In the light of affection, not the darkness of rejection.

Maybe they'll understand if you explain? Maybe you weren't really alone in the world?

“I was homeschooled because I had school phobia,” you said shyly. They all listened attentively without saying a word. “I didn't understand the children around me, so it created anxiety. I didn't learn how to mask my autism because I was never in contact with the outside world and my parents were overprotective. So, I just… live my life without hiding my symptoms.”

“That's actually a good thing, you're sincere,” Connie commented, kneeling down to rest his head on your lap. You ran your hands over his bleached buzzcut, your autistic brain fascinated by the feel of his short, freshly shaved hair. Heat rushed to your cheeks when you realized you were the center of attention, making you even more timid than you already were.

“Not really,” you hesitated, “you need to mask your autism to fit in. Only people who want to be outcasts don’t mask it.”

“I’m an asshole, I don’t try to soften up for people, and I have a very good social life,” Eren grumbled, absolutely disagreeing with what you were saying. You didn’t need to perform a personality that wasn’t yours to be accepted; just being yourself was enough.

“That’s right, Eren is the worst person I know.”

Eren glared at Ony who had said that, his brown, lidded eyes shooting daggers, but Ony smirked at him.

“What’s your point, mami? Are you saying Jean cheated on you because you’re not masking your autism?” Connie ignored these two best friends, focused on your suffering.

Your breath hitched when you gazed into his eyes and saw only care, concern, and affection.

“I’m just saying… Maybe if I was a normal girl, maybe he wouldn’t—”

“You know what to do when a boy cheats on you?” He cut in.

You shook your head.

“You show him you’re wanted elsewhere.” He lifted the hem of your skirt to place kisses on your plush thighs, his lips soft against your skin.

“W-Wait,” his kisses made you tickle, “Connie, you’re—”

“Get revenge on that bastard with us.” Eren buried his head in your neck, and your body warmed as you felt his hot tongue on your flesh. Ony slipped his hand under your top to knead one of your breasts. His hand was so large it enveloped it perfectly, making you flustered.

Your brain was in overdrive. Just seconds before, you had been crying because you were suffering from your disability, and now three hot men were kissing and touching you intimately.

An hour ago, you would have pushed them away because you had a boyfriend, but now?

Your freaky side had awakened, your cunt throbbing at the thought of letting yourself be manhandled by three men.

“How do I get revenge?” You whispered, your voice sounding innocent as if you weren't squeezing your thighs together to hide the smell of your arousal from Connie.

“You know damn well, sweetheart,” Eren chuckled before catching a piece of your skin between his teeth and sucking it vociferously. A wave of heat snaked through your lower abdomen and up your upper body, warming your entire being.

Your cheeks burned, feeling slutty for even liking the attention the three men were giving you.

Connie took his phone out of his jeans pocket, turned on the camera to record a video. He spread your legs and lifted your skirt, filming your clothed pussy where a wet spot resided.

“You’re gonna show that dumbass that if he doesn’t want you, other men will take good care of you,” he asserted, rubbing his fingers on the darker part of your panties, making you shiver.

You didn't think Jean would really care if you were getting laid by other men; he'd already shown enough that he didn't give a damn about you. But you said nothing, because part of you was thrilled at the idea of ​​a foursome.

When you were 18, you had a list of things you wanted to experience once you were cured of your social anxiety. Group sex was one of the things on the list. You were a freaky girl, what can you say? It was time to make one of your dreams come true.

“You’re not gonna eat her out before me,” Eren pushed Connie’s head from between your legs.

“Nobody likes chubby women more than me, so yeah, I’m gonna eat her out first.” Connie bit Eren’s hand before nibbling at the inside of your thighs. “Right, baby? Nobody likes your body more than me?” He looked up at you, his voice sultry.

Before you could answer, Eren’s hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you closer. You gasped, your breath coming in the tightness of the pressure, and when you turned your head toward him, his intense eyes made you swallow hard. There was something terrifying about him in that moment.

“Don’t even answer his question, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I love you more than him.” He crushed his lips against yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth. An electric current pulsed beneath your skin. You closed your eyes, enjoying the intensity of the kiss. There was something about Eren's intimidating aura that made you want to be an obedient girl, fulfilling his every desire and simply pleasing him. You moaned into the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours, kissing you as if he had something to prove. His hand tightened around your throat, making sure you knew who was in charge.

When he pulled away, your eyes fluttered open. His gaze was burning hot, and you almost wanted to tell everyone to leave so he could kiss you like that all night.

Ony's eyes narrowed when he saw the interaction between you and Eren. That bastard. Eren had always been possessive; it didn't surprise him that he was trying to monopolize you.

There had always been a kind of tension between the three boys. As many people said, there was always a duo in a trio, and that was the case with them. Ony and Connie always teamed up to annoy Eren, ragebaiting him and provoking his anger issues.

Now that they were in love with the same girl, it was a race to see who would be your favorite. Ony could no longer count on Connie to beat Eren; he had to assert himself.

While Eren was dominant, Ony was the gentlest man alive. Most of his exes had left him because he was too nice, but he wasn't heartbroken. He didn't want to become a bully like Eren to be appreciated for who he truly was. He was going to find a girl who would find comfort in his kindness, not get bored by his loving caresses, and be satisfied by his gentle side. He was determined to make sure that girl was you.

“Stop choking her, that's not how you treat the girl of your dreams.”

“I touch her however I want. She seems to like it, doesn't she ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚?”

You looked back and forth between Eren and Ony, silent before giggling softly.

“I like you both.”

“Nah, you need to choose someone.” Eren’s hand around your throat moved down to caress your pudgy belly beneath your top, and he sucked on your earlobe. Ony lifted your top to just above your breasts before leaning down to take your nipple in his mouth. You didn't even think about sucking in your stomach or trying to position yourself in a way that would lessen the sagness of your breasts. You were comfortable, felt pretty under their hands and lips, your body hot all over.

Connie slapped your thigh.

“Stop focusing on these useless men, mami,” he muttered.

He caressed your clothed core, making gentle back-and-forth movements that transformed into circular motions around your clit. His hot breath on you, his intense gaze, and his calloused fingers against you were an explosive cocktail that already had you trembling.

“Sensitive as fuck,” he chuckled. “Autism or you’re just needy?”

“Both,” you breathed shyly.

The wet patch grew larger as Connie played with your clothed pussy. A frenzy took hold of your body. The atmosphere was perfect, the touches were intentional and tailored to your needs; you didn't feel overwhelmed by the sensory stimulation. Ony's mouth on your breast, Eren's teeth on your lob, and Connie's fingers pressing against you… It was so simple, yet perfect.

You rocked your hips against Connie's hands. “I want more, please.” Your neediness was barely concealed in your voice.

Connie smirked. “Yeah? What does my girl want?”

"Um… You know what I want," you whispered, feeling so shy you would have hidden under the sofa if you could. Being a shy, introverted girl in a freak body was a nightmare. You wanted to be slutted out so badly but struggled to get there.

"You have no game, Connie," Eren mocked, his hand still gently caressing your stomach. His petty laugh was hoarse and sent waves of pleasure into your center.

Connie ignores his best friend and slowly took off your panties. You hated thongs and very thin panties with your sensory issues, you were glad nobody made fun of your plain pink cotton underwear.

When he looked at your bare pussy, he had the same glint he had when he called you a ‘tremendo mango’ at the restaurant. For many weeks, you thought it was a cute way of showing appreciation with a fruit metaphor before googling and realizing it was a compliment on your looks in Cuba.

“So pretty.” The tip of his fingers wandered over the gossy folds just to feel your wetness and touch your cunt swollen with desire and expectation.

“Do you like sexual stimulation?” Ony asked gently, his tongue curling around your other brown nipple.

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” You said, clueless, shivering again at Eren’s open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

“I mean sex toys and temperature play.”

Your lips parted in anticipation.

“If it’s gradual and we stop when it’s too much, I think it’s okay,” you smiled.

Ony was jealous of Connie at that moment because he would have eaten you for days for that cute expression.

Ony left the room, already missing his tongue on your body. But Eren’s on your neck was divine. He wasn’t ashamed to devour your neck, sucking on the bits of skin he had caught between his teeth, making you dizzy.

Connie set up his phone so he could film you and have his hands free. He sank his fingers between your lips, parting them, and the way he inspected your flesh made you nervous, but the sensation was so good, he chuckled every time you clenched your thighs too much.

“Focus on the top, please, Connie,” you said, trembling with longing to feel his touch on your clit.

“Nah. You’re not dominant enough for my submissive side, I’m bored.” 

You widened your eyes as he withdrew his fingers and, in a panic, you grabbed his head, pressing it against your pussy. The vibrations of his laughter against you sent waves of electricity through your body, and when his tongue lapped through the folds, you saw stars. Ony returned with mysterious toys in his hands and glared at Connie, who had the chance to taste you first. You thought Ony was going to use the objects on you, but he sat down next to you and resumed sucking your nipples greedily, as if preparing you and testing waters. One hand on Connie's buzzcut, pressing it against you, the other on Ony's short black hair—with a fresh new fade because he doesn't play about his appearance, just like you (#besties)—you felt like a queen with her loyal maids existing to please you.

Eren had practically become a vampire with all the little bites he'd made on your neck.

"I could eat you up," he whispered, nuzzling you. "Why do you smell so good?" 

“Well, to make perfume last longer, it’s recommended to start with a cream and then layer it with oils, butters, mists, and even Vaseline so it lasts longer. You also need a perfume with a high concentration, not just an eau de toilette—” 

He bit you so hard you let out a pained moan.

“Nerdy ass.”

“She’s right, though,” Ony joined the conversation, leaving your nipples alone. “Men need to stop with cheap cologne and buy pure perfume. They buy Savage by Dior and are still surprised they don’t have game.”

“Not everyone is a self-care nerd like you, Ony,” Eren chuckled. “Opinion on Maison Crivelli?”

“You’re trying too hard to be niche, just buy Creed Aventus or some Armani stuff.”

“It’s $300, dumb ass.”

“You’re a rich plug, ‘Ren. But I would buy it for you if you weren’t the ban of my existence.” 

“Is this… What they call ‘bromance’?” you added to the conversation in a frail voice because the way Connie was eating you out… You tried not to make a fool of yourself by whimpering like a dog in heat.

“More like rivalry,” Eren said, mock-disdain in his voice.

“He’s jealous because I’m taking care of you while he’s hurting you with his teeth,” Ony teased, clipping a nipple clamp to your little finger to check if the intensity of the fixed pressure and tension wasn’t too overwhelming. After receiving your blessing, he clipped them to your nipples, the silver chain connecting them contrasting with your princess-like appearance.

It felt a little painful… but the pain was exquisite, a sensation you hadn’t experienced before. You were discovering a masochistic side to yourself today.

“She looks so pretty like this,” Eren murmured, staring at your body. “I feel like I’m going to ruin her if I touch her more.” He put a little distance between you to unbutton his jeans and free his heavy erection.

Connie stopped eating you out for a moment. He collected a lot of your arousal on his hand to spread it on Eren's dick, making masturbation easier. You looked at Eren, amazed that he wasn't bothered by his best friend touching his cock. He smirked.

"Brotherhood, baby." 

You burst out laughing but ended up moaning as Connie went back into business.

Ony and Eren glanced at each other, both captivated by the way you arched your back on the couch, your chest rising and falling, your lips agape.

Ony kissed your arm, along the length of it, as Eren shamelessly stroked his dick while staring at you.

"Ony, you need to fuck her first. I'm going to overwhelm her, I'll save my turn for last," Eren proposed, his voice raspier as his hand worked itself over.

"I like the way you're thinking," Ony smiled against your skin, happy to be the first. Connie's tongue traced around your clit. He was having fun. Sometimes he pressed the tip of his tongue against your clit without moving, to make you whimper; sometimes he made circles over it to make you tremble; or most of the time he avoided touching it so as not to overstimulate you and lapped through the folds. The combination of Ony's kisses returning to your neck, the nipple claws, Connie's tongue, and the sounds of Eren's hand rubbing together made you feel like you were overheating, until you finally exploded. It wasn't spectacular; your autism made you struggle to show big emotions on your face, but Connie and Ony caught the way your body was wracked with spasms and your lip was bitten.

"Now get out of the way." Ony pushed Connie aside, who was laughing at his best friend's excitement.

Connie got up from the floor and picked up his phone to be the cameraman again. Ony laid you down on the couch, resting your head on Eren's lap. Eren smirked at you, looking down at you, his erection just next to your shy face.

“Are we going to do double penetration at some point? Because I need to be prepared, it can hurt,” you said softly, anxiously. Your autistic brain needed to know all the preparations and plan everything in advance so you wouldn't be surprised when it happened. You constantly needed clear instructions and reassurance.

The three of them let out a quiet laugh.

Eren used the hand that didn't touch his length to stroke the top of your head.

“You are prepared, don't worry.” 

Ony removed his clothes, and your jaw dropped at the sight of all the tattoos that adorned his dark brown skin, making him look intimidating and even sexier now. He lay on top of you, the hard planes of his body pressed against your soft curves. You felt the definition of his muscles against you, the proof of his dedication to his sport.

His head above you, his beauty and his handsomeness made your cunt clench.

“Hey,” you whispered softly.

“Hey.” He smiled wrapping your thick thigh around his waist. “How do you want it, love?”

You wrapped an arm around his neck, pressing him against you. “Slow and deep.”

“I’m gonna give you that.”

“I’m not this filming this sappy shit,” Connie grumbled.

“Yeah, they are acting as if my dick isn’t aching right now. The fuck you mean slow?” Eren added.

Ony and you ignored them. He kissed you as he lined his dick to your entrance and pushed his hips in. Your eyes widened at the size difference with Jean, and glanced at Eren, who also had a large one. Feeling full, you had trouble breathing as he bottomed out, and then being able to do it again when he moved his hips backward.

Ony felt Eren’s jealous glare in the back of his head and chuckled.

“Take care of my friend, baby,” he commanded.

With your free hand, you jerked your wrist to jerk Eren's cock, while Ony fucked you. Eren let out a groan of relief at the contact of your hand.

“Such a versatile girl,” Connie teased, making you flustered.

Ony was a precise man. He hated jackhammering during sex. All his thrusts were calculated to please his partner, not just to ejaculate. He was gentle, but incredibly intense. Slow thrusts didn’t mean no hard thrusts. So he angled his hips perfectly so that every time he hit the depth of your pussy, he struck a sensitive spot that made your chubby body tremble even if his pace was slow. The way your curves jiggled with his every move was mesmerizing, and all three men’s eyes in the room were fixed on you.

Your hand ran along Eren’s length, squeezing sometimes, stroking most of the time, as you moaned because of Ony fucking you. His hips slammed so hard against you, feeling so good, while still being gentle; this man was crazy. How was that possible? You hugged him more, wanting to make love with him forever.

Eren’s hand twitched at the top of your head, his breathing ragged. He didn't even contain his arousal for long and let himself cum on your face. You let out a chuckle at the surprise of the action. Ony leaned down to lick some of it on your cheek.

“Why are all of you so gay?” you asked, confused.

“Shhhh,” Ony pressed his lips against yours, continuing his slow love making

“Okay, Ony your time is up,” Eren muttered, punching Ony in the shoulder. Ony groaned, not even that close from release but agreed to withdraw from you. Eren cleaned your face with a tissue before placing a kiss on your forehead.

You let them manipulate your body into whatever position they wanted. You were now sitting on Connie, who had given the camera to Ony, with Eren positioned behind you.

You knew Eren was aggressive. You could feel it in his aura and the way he spoke to people. So, as both dicks slid inside you, your heart pounded with the excitement of being manhandled. It took a little while to adjust to the two cocks inside you, but once you were comfortable, Connie murmured, "Kiss me." You leaned down to give him what he needed.

You rocked your hips, Eren's and Connie's hands on them for the moment. Eren was dangerously calm as you rode Connie, and didn't give him much friction. The sweat that had accumulated on your back intensified as you thought about when Eren would snap and show his true colors. 

“Boring,” he finally snapped, grabbing a handful of your braids and pulling them back, making you gasp.

On his knees on the couch, his hips moved back and forth at a punishing pace. Absolutely no attempt at a gradual rhythm to get you used to it; he didn’t care about your whimpers. He took what he wanted, when he wanted it.

Connie kept his hands on your hips, guiding them to gyrate on him. Sometimes, his hands moved up to touch your love handles, kneading your softness.

“The way we don’t need any lube,” Ony joked, moving closer to the trio, nudging his dick against your cheek while filming your flustered reaction. “You think you take three dicks inside you, baby?”

You nodded softly, wanting to please him. Eren released your hair to let you lean down to take Ony’s dick in your mouth. But Eren picked up the pace even more, hand on your back.

You almost choked on Ony’s dick with the aggressiveness of Eren’s thrusts, and the worst part was that Ony pushed his hips anyway. You looked up at him in surprise and he gave you a little smirk, zooming in on your betrayed expression.

“What is it? Your mouth is full of dick, you can’t tell me how betrayed you are that I have a bit of Eren in me. Poor you.”

Ony’s tone became more petty and you moaned on his dick, turned on by this new change of event. You hoped he would still have mostly his gentle side, but you don’t mind his mean side sometimes.

“Bounce that ass, bitch. You’re not doing enough for me,” Eren muttered.

Eren’s frantic pace made you gargling with Ony’s dick, the sound of it making the three men growl. Ony fed you his cock with quick snap of his hips, hitting the deepest spot you can take him. Connie played with your breasts and nipples clamps as he lifted his own pelvic floor to penetrate you deeper. Eren still stroked your braids even though he fucked you like he hated your guts.

The video continued to play, filming the spectacle.

But the camera will never be enough to understand the pleasure you were currently feeling. Hearing Ony groan because of you made you feel powerful. The fact that Eren fucked you like an animal made you let go. And Connie, who was a mix of both but in a submissive way, made you feel understood, since he saw your lack of confidence.

Everything was perfect.

But as always, your disability ruined everything. 

Maybe they'll get tired of you like Jean did because of it. You patted Ony's thigh to let him know you wanted to stop, and when the boys realized you were overstimulated, they stopped everything, including the video.

It was like you had needles everywhere, and even the touch of a feather was unbearable. Anxiety and discomfort paralyzed you. You couldn't speak until the sensory overload dissipated, and you just sat on the sofa staring at the floor, extremely embarrassed by how you felt in front of them.

────────

𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫…

They weren't making fun of you. They understood what was happening and turned off the lights to reduce sensory input and did breathing exercises with you. You begged them never to mention it again, it was so embarrassing and you felt bad about ruining everything, but they always reassured you that they didn't care.

Now, you were in a polyamorous relationship with them.

It happened so naturally. The day after they sent the video to Jean, you were bombarded with messages from him, but you ended up blocking him on Eren's orders. Sad about your breakup, Ony took you shopping with him, and Connie made you Cuban dishes that catered to your autistic food obsessions to comfort you.

After a few days, you had stopped thinking about Jean because you were always spending time with your new boyfriends.

They were all diametrically opposed, but all perfect for you.

────────

˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 : 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

This should have stayed private between you and Sasha.

When she asked you who your favorite boyfriend was, you told her you loved them all equally for different reasons, but that Ony was the one you felt the most cared for with.

One day, Eren was on your phone for some random reason, and Sasha sent you a TikTok about couples, saying, "That's so Ony, no wonder he is your favorite boyfriend."

You never saw Eren so angry.

No matter how much you explained the nuance of your opinion, he wouldn't listen and was deeply hurt that you were had a favorite in your relationship with them.

Connie was nonchalant, so he couldn't care less, but he wasn't helping to ease the tension in the apartment because Eren had been in a constant sour mood since the incident. During the week you made love individually, and on weekends you had foursomes, but Eren had stopped participating in anything.

Eren always played the bad boy, but he was one of the most emotional men in the world.

But, thinking about it, you understood why he was so hurt.

You and Eren had a somewhat special relationship. It had taken you weeks to get used to calling him by the word he wanted to hear from you, because it was new to you. But he deserved it. He lived up to the word. He had punched a guy at a frat party who had made fun of you for not talking much. He was the one who knew the signs of your sensory overload best. He gave you advice on how to earn more respect. He was all about making yourself respected, protected, and taken care of. A dad.

Of course, he was hurt that you felt more cared for by Ony than with him, just because Ony was gentler. It made him feel bad about his personality, about himself. He didn't want to be the favorite, but he didn't want to be one of the least liked of your quartet either.

“Eren, you're such a child,” you pouted when he continued to ignore you while he played Final Fantasy XV on the big TV in your apartment.

“You literally have stim toys,” he mumbled, not an ounce of gentleness in his voice, his jaw clenched.

“A real daddy wouldn't act like that.” 

That's when you annoyed him. He threw his controller onto the couch, abandoning Noctis character, and ran after you. You screamed as he charged toward you and started running all over the apartment. Instinctively, you went into his room—big mistake. Eren locked the door and grabbed your braids, pulling you against his muscular chest. Eren had a sleeper build, thin from the outside, a greek god once naked.

“And a daddy wouldn’t fuck his daughter so what is your point, huh?” Eren mumbled.

You nuzzle his hard chest, not finding the comfort you can find in Connie’s body which is less muscular and softer. “Connie is better for hugging, like a real daddy,” you teased him.

“Strip.”

“Uh?”

“You’re going to learn who is really taking care of you in this house.”

── .✦ 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫…

“I’m so sorry!” you cried, but it didn’t matter since Eren had pushed your face into the pillow. All your pleas, screams, and cries were muffled now. The only thing that could be heard was Eren’s ragged and your flesh bumping against each other. The backshots were crazy, and he wished he could send this to Connie.

“Sorry for what? Disobeying dad? Making fun of me? Be specific because you’ve been a really bad kid lately and it pissed me off,” he panted, picking up the pace, if that was even possible. 

Your tears soaked the pillow and intensified as he thrust into you. It felt so good; before Eren, you didn’t know you could have sex like this because of your sensory issues. But it was perfect. Eren didn’t change much. He would always be dominant, and you would always be submissive. He would always choose positions where he was in control, always slap you, choke you, and spank you. It was very brutal, but it was so comforting for you, autistically. You loved routine. Eren's brutality was comforting.

“I love you, I'm sorry for saying Ony was my favorite,” you sniffed, lifting your head as best you could so he could hear you.

“You're only sorry because I'm fucking you to make you say it.”

“No, I—”

“I love Ony. He is the smartest man I know. People only care about his athletic performance, but he has a brilliant brain, very strategic. However,” he grumbled, “my kid can't love him that much.”

“You're right, I'm sorry,” you repeated like a robot because you wanted him to turn you over quickly so you could kiss your favorite angry boyfriend. “You're perfect for me, Eren.”

“Uh,” he smirked, his pace slowing down, “I don’t remember being called this.”

“Stop trying to make me embarrassed. Our relationship is already very weird,” you whispered.

“Ah, you're a hypocrite now? It's just because Connie came back from college a few minutes ago that you're whispering. When he's not there, you easily shout “i feel it in my belly daddy”. You think I'm stupid?”

“Shut your damn mouth, oh my god!” you screamed, mortified that Connie knew what you and Eren had as a dynamic. Connie was a bastard, he was gonna make fun of a dynamic that is deeper than just sex.

A deep chuckle rumbled in Eren’s chest. He pulled your thighs back so that you were lying down and in a prone bone position. He nuzzled your neck. “I accept the apologies of my daugther.”

“Ewwww.”

“Acting you’re not into that shit.”

You laughed and he kissed your skin, making you shiver.

────────

˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[messages from ‘princess’s harem 🎀 ’ group chat]

goofiestcubandick69 : i just heard our girl call eren daddy in bed ??????????

lamelo’s left ball : wdym daddy that boy can’t even handle his own emotions 

lamelo’s left ball : how he is gonna handle a kid

goofiestcubandick69 : thats what im saying

[...]

you : ummmm can yall forget this okay…….

worstpsychiatricpatient : im actually her dad tho

worstpsychiatricpatient : do you even know what is hyposensitivity in autism

lamelo’s left ball : you’re acting like that’s a fatal character flaw to not know

lamelo’s left ball : admitting you don’t know something is the first step to be smarter 

goofiestcubandick69 : no but do she knows you ate your own shit when we were at the nursery 

[worstpsychiatricpatient has left the chat.]

goofiestcubandick69 : yeah thats what i thought 

you : WTF ????????????????????

────────

˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 : 𝐨𝐧𝐲 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Studying for exams was torture for your autism.

Exams disrupted all your routines; you now had to care about things you didn't care about, and you didn't dare complain to your boyfriends because you felt like you complained all the time. As if you had a monopoly on suffering. They suffered from exams too, and you didn't want to bother them with your usual autistic complaints.

You were trying not to burst into tears in the university library because of all the academic pressure and the sheer amount of material you had to study.

As you were reviewing your lectures’s notes, someone sat down next to you. A familiar scent of men's cologne made you stiffen as you looked at the person.

"Not sucking three dicks?" Jean smiled, but there was nothing warm in his expression.

“I’ll do what I want, you cheated on me,” you muttered, unsure of yourself, but like Eren and Connie had taught you to be more confident in your comebacks.

“You weren’t exactly the ideal girlfriend. They’ll leave you eventually and realize it too.” You looked away from the brown-haired man to your textbooks, your eyes welling with tears.

It was your biggest fear.

Being a burden to others. That’s why you tried not to complain too much about your autism so as not to bore your boyfriends.

You wanted your boyfriends to be able to talk about your personality first. About your love of pink. About your collection of perfumes and platform boots. About your knowledge of cosmetology. About your rare vintage clothes.

No, they had to tell all their friends during parties that you were autistic so no one would be mean to you because you didn't talk much because of not understanding the world around you and struggling to read the room.

You were chatty with your boyfriends because they had become routines. But anything new was difficult for you to understand, so you struggled to be yourself.

You shouldn't be ashamed of your disability, but a disability did what it did: it handicapped you in life.

"Many autistic people are happily married. My boyfriends are happy with me. You're the only idiot who can't leave me and prefers to be unfaithful," you said in a trembling voice before leaving the university library. You hoped your boyfriend were proud of you for standing for yourself.

────────

When sadness strikes, always turn to Ony. It should be a famous saying.

“Point in my life” by Gucci Mane was playing in the gym, accompanied by the sound of bouncing basketballs. You cheered Ony on as he made baskets for his practice. With each basket, you yelled, and he turned to look at you, laughing. The other people in the stands looked at you as if you were the male-centered protagonist of a romance novel, but you didn't care. Your baby, your man was surely going to be drafted this summer; he deserved all the praise!

When he finished his practice, you went to the locker room with him. You innocently watched all the men getting dressed in front of you, giving you strange looks, waiting to be alone with your lover.

Once alone, Ony d led you to the showers so you could get undressed.

 “What’s on your mind? I know these eyes cried, ma’. Don’t fool me,” Ony murmured, kneeling before you when you were finally naked under the shower spray.

“W-What are you doing?” 

He pressed your back against the shower wall and lifted one of your legs to his shoulder.

“You don’t know? Pussy eating therapy session.” 

You burst into laughter at the absurdity but quickly panted when he buried his nose and mouth deep into wet folds.

“I… I feel like I’m going to burn out from the exams. It’s just too much. I can’t sleep because it stresses me out so much, and on top of that, I’m not doing my usual routines anymore, so I’m not myself anymore,” you paused to let out a moan as his tongue caressed a particularly sensitive spot. “I cry all the time when I study, and I didn’t want to seem like an attention whore by talking to you about my problems.” 

Indulging in your arousal, he groaned at the scent of you; it made him lose his mind. He moved his tongue deeper, lapping at you, twisting it inside.

“I’m scared you, Connie and Eren will leaving me because of my autism.”

That made him stop completely, and he looked at you in horror.

“The fuck?”

Thinking about what Jean said made your eyes water, and fed up, you sobbed. Sometimes you laughed, sometimes you cried; these days you didn’t even remember yourself.

“Mama,” he said softly, rising from the floor to embrace you, kissing your cheek wet not from the shower but from your tears. “Who put these shitty ideas in your head?”

“M-My ex…”

“And what did I tell you about that motherfucker?”

“That he was stupid to look at any other woman but me.”

“Exactly, so why do you listen to him?”

“I don’t know, he was as loving as you all, and still cheated.”

“Being loving doesn’t mean shit. He never helped you during a meltdown. We did. A lot. I hope he dies.”

You widened your eyes. “Don’t say that!”

“What are you gonna do with your socially anxious ass to make me stop, huh?”

You pouted. “Nothing…”

“Right, now let me fuck you good, you need it.”

He lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, as he stood pushing you against the wall.

He kissed you as his dick slid in, all his affection communicate through his tongue, his kiss, the way his hips slammed again you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands stroking his short hair under the shower jet which dampened it into tight curls.

“I feel so safe with you, Ony. Sorry for what I said, I trust you. I’m a bit tired because of school, I think,” you whispered against his lips.

“Yeah? You’re not gonna listen to this dumbass again?”

You shook your head.

“Proud of my sweet girl.”

────────

˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐨𝐧𝐲'𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[messages from ‘princess’s harem 🎀 ’ group chat]

goofiestcubandick69 : are yall into public sex 

you : NO!!!!!!!!!!

worstpsychiatricpatient : yea

lamelo’s left ball : hell no 

lamelo’s left ball : nobody looks at my girl like that

goofiestcubandick69 : then why there is a rumor on the campus about our girl looking at naked men with you

worstpsychiatricpatient : thats even gayer than when he licked my cum

lamelo’s left ball : we masturbated together in middle school eren

[worstpsychiatricpatient has left the chat.]

goofiestcubandick69 : man you’re a child 

goofiestcubandick69 : and gay

goofiestcubandick69 : ony i didnt forget 

goofiestcubandick69 : you put MY girl with naked men 

goofiestcubandick69 : tf is wrong with you

lamelo’s left ball : why are we focused on ME when SHE was in my male locker room ?????

goofiestcubandick69 : mi princesa can do no wrong

goofiestcubandick69 : soy su perro 

you : exactlyyyyyy

[worstpsychiatricpatient is back in the chat.]

worstpsychiatricpatient : two dumb bitches telling each other ‘exactlyyyyyy’

[worstpsychiatricpatient has left the chat.]

goofiestcubandick69 : this man is true to his @

goofiestcubandick69 : don’t call mi princesa a bitch u motherfucker

goofiestcubandick69 : but call me a bitch if you want to i’m into that

you : ????????

lamelo’s left ball : he has the nerve to call eren gay

────────

˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 : 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

If Eren was your angry boyfriend, Ony your gentle lover, Connie should be your sexy latino man?

That's what everyone thought about Connie.

On campus, the girls with a latino men fetish are interested in him because of his accent. His tattoos. His piercings. His immigrant status. He knows these white american girls well, girls who see latin America as a land full of sexy men, who think latin culture is just about aesthetics. So he created three phases to find the right people for him.

First, phase number 1, which attracts all the girls: The laid-back latino.

Sweatpants. Tattoos. Laid-back persona. Stoned out a lot. Hanging out with the university's plug Eren and the university's star, Ony. Calling any girl 'mami'. The girls love it, adore it, and can't get enough.

Then, he reveals a little bit of himself, and that's when things get out of hand. 

There's his "goofy" phase, when he shows how weird and funny he can be, even if it makes him less of a stereotypical latino man.

99% of the girls leave or get the ick.

That's how he knew you were the one because you never thought much of his goofy behavior sometimes and just went along with him. He feels so normal with you; he doesn't have to perform some racist stereotype with you, you just accept him with all his facets.

Now, he can finally show his final layer: his submissive side.

────────

Being the dominant one in the relationship was so much fun.

Of course, you liked being manhandled by Eren, or being praised by Ony.

But it was just as exciting as getting what your submissive man wanted tonight.

“Do whatever you want to do to me in my sleep. If I don’t wake up with you fucking me, I’m gonna blow up the apartment.”

You and Connie looked at each other during dinner, even when you were on Eren’s lap or in Ony’s arms. You both knew you were going to have fun tonight when everyone was asleep. You were going to have fun when he was asleep.

You crept into his room so as not to wake him. You climbed onto the bed and noticed he wasn’t wearing a blanket or a shirt. You chuckled; he was really waiting for this.

You leaned down to kiss all over his chest and abdomen, your tongue flicking around his navel piercing and all his tattoos.

His body shivered, but he didn't open his eyes.

You stripped him of the rest of his clothes and spat on your bare breasts, then smeared the saliva on the inside of your breasts. Your mouth watered at his hard pierced dick that reacted to your kisses. Big. Thick. Exactly the type of dick you wanted to rub your tits around.

You gently palmed his cock before placing it between your breasts. You added more saliva to your mess as you kneaded your breasts around him. The situation was oddly stimulating sensorially with the softness of your chest and the humidity of your saliva.

“Mami, I missed you,” Connie murmured, voice still sleepy as he rubbed his eyes.

You gave him an affectionate smile. “What do you want tonight?”

“Uh, you never learn? My body belongs to you. You’re the one who chooses everything.”

A fire snaked through your belly, igniting your insides.

You stopped what you were doing even though you saw disappointment in his eyes, but they lit up when you sat on his pelvis, sliding down his dick.

“Oh hell yeah,” he moaned, his hands coming to your hips but you slapped him.

“I didn’t say you could do that, Connie,” you chided him. “Put your hands above your head, I’ll slap you if you move them.”

His gut twisted with arousal, he absolutely nodded and obeyed with enamored eyes.

You couldn't say no to people but were able to slap your man, the duality of an autistic freaky woman.

You leaned down to stabilize yourself on his shoulders. Lifting yourself off his cock, you slid down again brutally, making him gasp and whine for more. When he whined too much, you slapped him and told him to stop. He almost cummed and bit his lower lip till it bled not to.

You did everything you wanted to Connie. A slow pace when your legs were tired. At fast pace, fucking yourself on his dick. Sometimes, you turned over and he thanked God women existed just to see your ass gyrating in front of him.

When you were the dominant one, you experienced less sensory overload during sex, that’s why you loved having sex with Connie so much.

You rode him, rocking your hips against him, your tits bouncing, looking like a voluptuous succubus who haunted him at night. It made him lose his mind, and spouting nonsense, his brain going dumb.

“Yesterday I genuinely cried because I wanted to eat you out but it was Ony’s day, so I ate so many sweets just to feel you on my tongue.”

Your heart fluttered and you leaned down to kiss him. “You’re so cute and weird, Connie.”

He forgot about the rules and just hugged his favorite girl ever.

────────

˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[messages from ‘princess’s harem 🎀 ’ group chat]

worstpsychiatristpatient : how do you cope with the fact that your girl is a rapist

you : WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

you : ???????????

goofiestcubandick69 : she cant rape me since i am her slave 

goofiestcubandick69 : my body is her propriety

worstpsychiatristpatient : not only my girl is a rapist

worstpsychiatristpatient : but she uses mind control

goofiestcubandick69 : exactly

goofiestcubandick69 : my mind is controlled by her

goofiestcubandick69 : i always think of my girl

lamelo’s left ball : i’m employed what happened

you : eren discovered somno

[lamelo’s left ball is now offline.]

goofiestcubandick69 : thats why i love ony

goofiestcubandick69 : he knows how to mind his own business

worstpsychiatristpatient : just so you know i called the police

worstpsychiatristpatient : mind u i’m the only one who have a real job and a dangerous one at that

worstpsychiatristpatient : so fuck u lamelo wannabe

────────

˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 : 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬  ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

“Ma’, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Ony took the star you were trying to put on top of the fake pink tree Connie had found on some niche website. He placed it where you wanted it.

“There is no way, it’s really the only color we will ever see at Christmas,” Eren grumbled, rummaging through the Christmas decorations you and Connie had bought weeks earlier, appalled by all the pink in them. “Christmas is green and red!”

“Well, it’s my girl’s world so I don’t care about Christmas rules,” Connie mumbled, taking a drag of his blunt, sitting on the couch.

“And you guys also have pink Christmas pajamas to wear!” you said excitedly, pulling out the pink pajama sets with snowflake patterns.

Eren winced, Connie gave a thumbs-up, and Ony chuckled. But they wore them all, just for your beautiful eyes.

It was going to be a fun Christmas, but you wouldn't trade places for anything in the world.

Because you were with the three loves of your life. In no particular order. Just the trio of your heart.

──────── ✃- - - - - - - - - - - you liked it ? please support fics you liked with a reblog or a comment ! writers never know how we impact you if you don't say anything <3 ── .✦

[rockcollector3000]

Simon Riley and his autistic wife!

Self indulgent, I’m sorry. User’s special interest is marine life!

Simon comes home from a long day at work and finds you hunched over the coffee table, highlighting parts of a page in a book. He doesn’t question it, you’re always doing something after all.

He gives you a kiss on your temple and sits next to you.

“That book about whales?” He asks, already knowing he’s right.

“Mhm,” you reply. “Migration patterns.”

He hums, playing with your hair as he watches you continue to read.

You get up after carefully marking your page with an ocean themed bookmark. You lay down beside Simon.

“Can you squish me?”

Simon doesn’t hesitate to comply. He gets up, positions himself above you, then lays down on top of you.

He loves it. You love it. He’s not putting enough weight on you for it to be painful, just enough that you feel a secure amount of pressure.

“I miss you,” you say, staring up at him.

“Miss you too, dove,” he says back, pressing kisses around your face. “I think I’ll make some pasta for dinner.”

You nod. It was the third night of pasta so far, but he wasn’t tired of it. Simon knew that sometimes good ol’ buttered noodles were the best option.

[im-not-a-pleeb]

How the 141 would react to your infodumping:

John most likely does not give a shit about what you're going on about unless it's something he finds interesting himself. That doesn't mean he isn't attentive, though. He's happy to listen to you stutter out random facts, asking questions now and then to show he isn't ignoring you. At the end of the day however, he isn't going to remember the specifics when you bring up the subject again in a few days.

Kyle listens intently, letting you talk for hours on end. He asks a few more questions than Price does, genuinely interested in hearing the answers. He'll make sure to bring up the topics you share in future conversations, fully indulging you in your interests of the week.

Simon comes across like he coudn't care less. He's completely silent, letting you talk at him but not really giving much back. All he offers in way of acknowledgement are a few grunts here and there. In actuality, he's 100% invested in whatever you're telling him about and he will be sending you at least three related Wikipedia pages later.

Now, with Johnny... it's really hard to infodump to him because he gets so excited. You and him are interrupting each other constantly. His enthusiasm matches yours no matter what the hyperfixation is, and he needs to hear everything you have to say about it immediately. He'll usually then chime in with his own interests when relevant (and even when they aren't, he just has to tell you anyway).

Masterlist

[sgtpeppersband]

Batfam x Ditsy Batsis!Reader ᯓ⭑

(reader is very autistic coded :D) wc: 582 m.list

Ditsy!Reader who can do no wrong in Bruce’s eyes, he lets you get away with things that you know damn well if it were anyone else they would’ve got a scolding.

Ditsy!Reader who seemed to be the only person in the family who could consistently stay positive.

“Morning daddy!” You exclaim loudly as you skip into the dining room.

“Hey, sweetheart” Bruce pulls you in a side hug and kisses the crown of your head as you giggle and make eye contact with Damian who sits at the table eating a piece of perfectly grilled toast with his classic scowl all over his face. Big mistake.

“Must you always wear such ridiculous, frivolous sleep attire, how do you even sleep in such a thing?” He was referring to your vintage babydoll nightgown, though his comment didn’t offend you. Why would you care what he thinks about what he has to say about your clothes when he’s the one who would wear skinny jeans if not for you and Dick’s interference?

“Damian. Be nice.” Your father knew you didn’t always catch onto those kinds of things — the compliments that were wrapped in disdain and faux kindness — you had a hard time seeing the deeper, hidden meaning to sentences, if they wanted to say something, just say it! There’s really no need to pretend to say something you don’t really mean. It left Brice feeling rather protective over you.

In reply to your father’s scolding your younger brother just scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Ah! Miss (name), you’re finally awake! It seems I need some help in the kitchen, would you do the honour of making the pancake batter?” Alfred asks, already knowing the answer due to your fondness of doing literally anything that has to do with baking.

“It would be my pleasure!” You ran off to the kitchen immediately.

Ditsy!Reader who Damian always go to whenever he needs to talk about things that make him worry or stress, things that he would be too ashamed to admit to anyone else. Your optimism made him feel a little better about things he thought were hopeless.

Ditsy!Reader who teams up with Damian to convince Bruce to let you keep the random stay mongrel you guys found once whilst on patrol.

Ditsy!Reader who sits with Tim’s whilst he works on a case at the batcomputer and constantly asks questions completely unrelated to what you’re supposed to be doing — Tim’s started to ignore you whenever you ask, hoping you’d get the hint, you never did.

Ditsy!Reader whose bestest friend is your older brother, Dick. He will literally drop anything if he finds out you need him. You often have movies nights together and do all the girly things that teenage girls would usually do at a sleepover; watching movies, gossiping, face mask, painting nails, because he knows how much it upsets you sometimes that you don’t have many friends.

Ditsy!Reader who goes to Cass whenever she feels overwhelmed and doesn’t want to talk, you know understands and her presence if a safe haven for you.

Ditsy!Reader who was the only one Jason didn’t mind so much when he started to come back to the manor, he’d known you since you were born and you’re his baby sister, after all!

You were a peculiar child. That’s what everyone always told you, anyway. That’s what Tim and Damian said what they both first met you, and the fact that they mutually agreed it is saying a lot.

a/n: this was not proofread (I cringe so hard reading my own writing) so I apologise if I just made you read straight bullshit lmao

[beekneelsformommy]

When the world feels too much

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x Autistic!Fem!Reader

Summary: After you spiral into thinking Wanda and Nat don’t want you anymore, Wanda and Nat find you in the middle of the night breaking down. Can they convince you that just because you think something, it doesn’t make it true?

Story now moved to here

[theaspsaroaceimagines]

The Autistic Experience! (In Hell)

Chapter 1: Swimming With Sharks

It takes a while to find the address listed by your new employer, embarrassingly. It's Vee Tower, one of the tallest buildings in the city, and you hadn't even realized it. Your nerves nearly get the better of you as you approach.

Fuck, you realize, this guy is someone important…!

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself before walking up the path to the large front doors.

You can do this, you tell yourself, you're just going to be taking care of this guy's sharks for a few days, then you'll probably never see him again.

You open the doors to find a bustling lobby.  Demons rush about every which way, several carrying piles of documents.  You thank the powers that be that isn't you. You'd never survive an office job with papers and deadlines.

You approach the front desk, and the receptionist–a fish demon of some sort–sends you a look you can't quite decipher, but are pretty sure is judgmental or negative in some capacity.

“Hi!” you greet them, mustering what you hope is a friendly smile, “I'm here to see… Vox?  I'm here to pet-sit for… him?”

The receptionist shoots you another indecipherable look, before adjusting their glasses. “Yes… let me call him down for you…” they reply with a tone that you don't really like.  They push a button on their headset, “Vox, your pet-sitter is here.”

You watch with a now strained smile as they nod their head to a response they receive.  They turn to fully face you before speaking again.

“Vox will be down in a moment, please take a seat over there and wait for him.”  They point to a row of seats along the wall.

It takes a moment to process what they said, but you nod anyway, standing a little too long at the desk before you turn and hesitantly take a seat.  Damn! I look like an idiot!

The wait is excruciating, taking only a few minutes, but feeling like hours. You fidget in your seat, feeling for all the world like everyone is watching you, judging you.

Finally, you hear the ding! of an elevator chime, and look up to see a tall TV-headed demon stepping through the doors of the nearest elevator.  He's dressed smartly, adjusting the lapels of his pinstriped tuxedo jacket before moving on to his bow tie. He takes a glance in your direction, before striding over, a wide showman's smile taking over his face.

“Ah, yes!” he greets, an air of what you can only describe as smugness in his voice, “__Y/N__, right?  It's so good to see you've made it!  Welcome to Voxtek headquarters!  I'm Vox, of course, I'm sure I need no introduction…!” He leans down and offers you a handshake.

It takes a moment for you to recognize the gesture, but as soon as you do, you take his hand in yours and give it an awkward shake.  You have no idea who he is, but you nod along anyway. “Ah, yeah…! It's nice to meet you, Vox!” you say, before brightening and standing from your seat, “So, who are the babies I'll be taking care of?”

Vox's smug smile morphs into a more genuine one.  “Of course!  I'm so glad you asked!”  He places a hand on your back and leads you towards the elevator, not seeming to notice your flinch at his touch.

He takes you to the floor above his studio, where access to the first tank is. Inside the tank are several cybernetically enhanced sharks of varying sizes and species.  He points out each individual shark and tells you their names, and you make a mental note of each one.

Once you've seen the first tank, he takes you to the kitchen where the sharks’ food is stored and prepared.  The kitchen is pristine, completely spotless, and has three fridges and two freezers filled with raw meat.  Vox walks you through the feeding schedules before leading you up a few floors to his office.

“... and this here is my pride and joy!” Vox tells you, gesturing to the tank behind his desk with a flourish, “Shock.wav!”

Inside is the single largest living shark you have ever seen.  She—you can tell she's female by the lack of claspers coming off her anal fins—is somewhere between a great white and a megalodon in size.  She's a biomechanical hybrid of some sort, with pulsating electronic lights accenting her body.

You stare at Shock.wav for a moment in awe.

“... she's beautiful…!” you breathe.  If a little bit overweight.

Vox chuckles at your reaction.  “She is gorgeous, isn't she?”  He puts a hand on your shoulder, “So… you think you can handle all of them for a few days?”

“Absolutely!” you nod.

“Great! Great!” he approves, “Well, in that case, let me show you to your room!”

He leads you back to the elevator, and takes you up two more floors, to the floor just below the penthouse.  There, he leads you down a hall to a one-bedroom condo, complete with a full bathroom and a fully-stocked kitchen.

Once the tour is finished, you and Vox take the elevator back to the ground floor.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to do this, you have no idea how hard it is to get someone competent to care for these sharks!” Vox tells you, a note of what you think might be condescension in his voice.  He pats your back.  “Well, I have places to be!  If you have any more questions, feel free to ask any of my employees!”

You nod.  “Of course.  Have a good trip!” you wave after him as he makes his way to the front door.  “And don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your babies for you!”

Vox turns to face you as the doors open for him, his showman’s smile turning sinister.

“You’d better.”

And with that, the doors close behind him.

As soon as he’s gone, you’re in animal care mode.  You take the elevator back up to the first tank to check the water’s pH and saline levels.  You make some minor adjustments before heading up to do the same for Shock.wav’s tank.  Once you’re satisfied with the homeostatic balance of both tanks, you take it upon yourself to put together a feeding chart for each of the sharks; noting the precise time you feed each one, as well as the weight of the meat you give them.

Before you go to bed, you eat some dinner of your own while putting together a plan to get Shock.wav down to a healthier weight involving exercise and a controlled diet.

You spend the next three days following your animal care plan, feeding the sharks and working on target-training Shock.wav.  She is wonderfully intelligent, just as you suspect, and you make a note to suggest to Vox that he provide her with extra enrichment when he returns.

It’s on the third day that you come across a problem; the tanks need cleaning, and Vox neglected to tell you where the diving gear is.

It’s not a big problem, you can just ask one of his employees.  So you think.

You’re able to stop one Voxtek employee in his rush from one office to another, an eel demon with mismatched eyes.

“Excuse me,” you tell him, “I have a question.”

The eel demon stops, sending you a hesitant glance.  “Ah… yes…?”

“Yeah! Hi! I’m the petsitter Vox hired a few days ago,” you introduce yourself, “and I was wondering if you might know where the diving gear is?”

“Diving gear?” he repeats, incredulous.

“Yeah!” you push, “There’s some algae build-up in the shark tanks, and I need diving gear in order to clean that up.”

“You want to swim in the shark tanks?”

You frown, brows pinched in concern, “Uh, yeah?  I need to in order to clean the tanks…!”

The eel demon shakes his head, looking at you like you’d just sprouted an extra head.  “Are you crazy?”

“That’s up to debate,” you admit truthfully, “but not because of this.  So is there any diving equipment…?”

“No,” the demon tells you, a little too strongly, “because no one is crazy enough to try to swim with Mr. Vox’s sharks!”  With that, he turns and continues on his way, leaving you with a dilemma.

You return to the floor with the first tank, and pace in front of it, thinking.

“There’s no way I’d be able to hold my breath long enough to even get to some of the algae spots, let alone clean them…” you muse, “Damn… If only I was a fish demon, like that eel guy…!”

The thought of the way he spoke to you irks you a bit.

“Crazy!  He called me crazy!” You frown as you continue to pace, before stopping to stare at your reflection in the glass, “Wanting to do my job doesn’t make me crazy! Right?”

You scowl, before mimicking what the eel demon had told you, even trying to remember and mimic his mannerisms.

“‘No one is crazy enough to try to swim with Mr. Vox’s sharks!’” you mock, changing your posture to match the employee’s.

And suddenly, your reflection changes to that of an eel demon.

“Huh?”  You squint, blink, and take a closer look at your reflection.  It’s not your imagination, your reflection has changed.  You look down at yourself and find that yes, your reflection matches your actual current appearance.

You drop the act, slowly turning around while looking at yourself, and your body shifts back into your own demonic form, right before your eyes.

“Huh,” you say to yourself, “that’s… interesting.”

You have an idea.

You begin, again, to mimic the mannerisms of the eel demon, and your body shifts once again to match.  You reach to feel the gills at the side of your neck, and find that they are indeed there.

Problem unexpectedly solved.

With your newfound ability, cleaning the sharks’ tanks is easy.  Sure, a couple of the sharks, including Shock.wav, charge you, but you know just what to do about that.  

“Get rotated, idiot,” you joke underwater as you take one charging shark by the nose and gently flip it upside-down, putting it into tonic immobility.

And so it happens that the tanks are pristine when Vox returns from his business trip.

[wandanatsbee]

Chapter Ten

Pairing: Wandanat x Autistic!Fem!Reader

Summary: The party guests have all arrived and your nerves are beginning to settle with Wanda & Nay by your side. So what happens when someone unexpected shows up uninvited?

Content Warnings: 18+, anxiety, overwhelm, subtle hints at sub/domme dynamics and polyamory relationships, signs of an abusive relationship

Word Count: 5.9k

Reading Time: 29 minutes

Author’s Note: I can not tell you how many damn tile I re-wrote this chapter. I wanted it to be perfect, but perfection is over rated, so I hope this is enough. Because this is my perfect.

Prologue of The Stones Will Remember

The stones will remember Spotify playlist

Halloween Dinner Party - Part One

The house was thick with noise.

You stood at the edge, a safe space next to the altar but close enough to Wanda and Nat to feel their presence. That if you needed them you, or they, could get to you in a heartbeat.

You needed them.

You always do. 

And you couldn’t comprehend why.

Drinks being poured, laugher, chatter, glass clinking. All wrapped in the smell of Vanilla, Cinnamon and sandlewood. 

It was perfect.

You held your own glass lightly in your hand, your thumb tracing the rim, eyes flicking up to Wanda every few seconds. The moment she caught you looking, a soft smile reached her eyes. Immediately your face turned away, cheeks turning a shade of pink that made Wanda chuckle and your heart beat faster.

Wanda turned back to her guests, some extra people had arrived whom you had not expected—but Wanda and Natasha both grounded you, reassured you and introduced you to each person. 

One in particular was a blonde woman, almost white hair—Sue Storm. 

You were in awe of her, not in the same way you were with Wanda and Nat—just something about her felt calm, despite her name—Ironic really.

You took a small a sip of your drink, feeling a little self conscious as you stayed in your corner—your eyes suddenly fixated on another woman, younger, closer to your age, but something about her was different—you weten’t sure what exactly, but there was something.

She was continually bouncing on her toes like an uncoiled spring, running up to everyone, with an excited high pitched tone to her voice, acting more as if she was a bunny or a five year old—you hadn’t quite worked out which—rather than the young woman she was.

“Fauna. Stop.” Sue grabbed the young woman by the arm, yanking her still, forcing her to pause her hyper movements, giving the older woman her best pout—like a scolded child who didn’t get her way. 

“Fauna…” you whispered under your breath, her name was unusual, a little whimsical maybe, a little chaotic even, but she seemed sweet enough.

Her hair was dark, almost black, but not quite, with pale streaks running through thick strands. Like moonlight against the midnight sky. She was quite the picture in her black kitten outfit. Cute even. She’d arrived with Pepper Potts, your housing advisor—you weren’t entirely sure of their relationship, either they were very close friends, or—but you didn’t want to assume anything.

You laughed under your breath, assuming things, you were good at, especially when it came to your own life.

Fuck.

Your heart began to pound in your chest as you watched the way Nats hand met with Wanda’s lower back, the way she leaned in whispering something—something that made Wanda Maximoff blush and Natasha smirk, like she had just been given diamonds—yet here you were wishing for someone, you brain paused mid sentence, realising the truth, you were wishing for them to make you feel like that, to make you blush in a crowded room, all the while keeping the content of what was said between the three of you.

But then—before your brain could even lock on properly, or for too long to that feeling—you heard another voice, from the only other woman that was your age. 

She was louder. 

Not in the same way Fauna was.

She was confident.

Her hair was ethreal, pastel purple, put up in a long ponttail that reached the middle of her spine, a small flower crown similar to yours, but less flowers. She wore a small necklace the lay softly against her olive skin. It was silver. A celtic cross.

She didn’t move fom Rio’s side, not once.

If Rio told her to move, she followed…like she had rules she couldn’t break.

Something niggled in the back of your brain, something that you can never escape. 

The cross she’s wearing.

You’d know the date of that from anywhere.

“Sixteenth Century Jacobite cross.” You muttered, a hand going to you stomach to hold your self steady—the butterflies you got when it came to anything history—almost as strong as the ones you got whenever you were in the pressence of Wanda and Nat, but not quite.

You didn’t even notice the look from Wanda—the head tilt, like you had just unearthed the Jacobites themselves.

Then…

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK.

The air shifts, like history pages in the wind, a flutter in your stomach, eyes unable to tear yourself away from the necklace.

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK.

Then, a hand on your arm, warm breath against your skin, the smell of vanilla “Hey Ladybug, you okay sweetheart?” Wanda’s honeyed voice almost making your knees buckle from the warmth of her words.

Fuck.

Wanda.

You swallowed thickly, eyes barely focusing on Wanda, the silver cross still having your attention, but you were scared if you looked at Wanda, she would see right through you.

“I- I’m fine,” you put your glass to your lips again, taking another large gulp, “who is that?” you whispered, nodding towards the girl with the cross, standing beside Rio.

“Ahh,” Wanda smiled, brushing a curled hair back behind your ear “that would be Betsy, she’s Agatha and Rios…well, she’s their friend.” Wanda hummed, she watched the intrigue settle into the creases in your forehead. “You know sweetheart, if the wind changes you’ll stay like that,” Wanda traced her finger across the lines in your forehead “relax for me.”

You felt your whole body begin to loose tension, shoulders unclenching, teeth un gritting, jaw loosening—Wanda’s thumb lingering on your temple for just a few seconds too long. Her smile curving softly as she watched the way you ran your thumb over the rim of your glass again, grounding yourself.

“Betsy? she seems…sweet…” your voice somewhere between loud and quite, an octave only Wanda heard.

“Come on,” her hand gripped your elbow, pulling you gently forward “let me introduce you.”

Wanda’s thumb stayed on the inside of your arm as she guided you towards the group—towards Betsy. 

She stood her place beside Rio, who was wearing a dark green satin dress, the sleeves cut into spikes as well as the bottom of the dress which came to the middle of her thighs, and her skin was painted black and white—like—like a skeleton, which confused you. But she looked nice, smelling of earl grey tea and old books.

“Rio, Betsy.” Wanda hummed, her palm moving slowly to the middle of your back “this little fairy here, is Y/N.”

Betsy had eyes the shone like the ocen—sparkling blue—she stood beside Rio like she was made to be there. The corners of her lips quirked upon seeing you, her face softened, as she watched the way you stepped closer into Wanda’s pressence, you hadn’t even noticed yourself doing it.

“Hi Y/N,” She held out her hand, which you took—her grip was tight on your knuckles and she shook and pulled away. “so you’re Wanda and Nat’s girl then?”

The whole room went still.

Silent.

The air itself stopped breathing.

Wanda pauses mid breath, lips twitching like she might correct the woman but changed her mind, eyes firmly back to you.

Nat coughing across the room on her wine.

And you?

Your brain was short circuiting, trying to keep up with it self, attempting to restart as you looked wide eyes at the woman. 

What did she mean by that?

You felt Wands’s thumb against your wrist, directly over your pulse—she could feel the way your whole heart was speeding up like a damn Duracell battery. 

She’d know she was getting you flustered.

She’d know.

She’d know the parts of you that weren’t ready for her to know.

But maybe that would be okay.

Because it was Wanda.

Soft. Gentle. Kinda, Caring. Protective. Wanda.

You laughed softly, choking out a “What, umm, what do you mean?”

“Betsy. Remember what I told you? She’s not part of this, part of us, she’s not Wanda an Nats girl in that sense.” Rio smirked, looking towards you with a hidden meaning behind her dark irises.

What the hell did that mean?

“Rio.” Wanda’s voice dropped into a warning as the whole room seemed to be focussed in on you and this conversation, which you were hoping desperately to jump out off.

Rio shrugged, her lips turning into a not so subtle grin, sipping at her drink and keeping her eye on you—was there extra meaning behind what she said? Or was that you brain overthinking just a normal conversation?

But it wasn’t normal.

There was something there.

Something you couldn’t see. Yet.

“Oh right. Sorry Y/N.” Betsy tilted her head slightly, and you felt her watch you for a just a moment too long—she turned to Rio, whispering something in her ear.

You’re not sure why but you suddenly felt on edge.

Then, Wanda’s thumb which was still against you wrist began to move, slow rhythmic circles against your flushed skin, centring you to this moment, to her and nothing more.

“Mmm, yes I’m sure,” Rio hummed, then she gave you a curious look too. You wanted to tell them you weren’t a zoo animal, but you weren't brave enough, so you let them, and you took another step unconciously towards Wanda—if you got any closer you’d be melded into her skin, “honey , who did your makeup?” Rio asked suddenly.

Wanda’s arm rounded over your shoulders protectively.

“Vidal.” She muttered. Eyes narrowing, fingers gripping your shoulder as if tethering herself to you.

“Come on Maximoff, you know why I’m asking and who it was." Rio arched a brow in her direction, you saw the unspoken words settle between them, with a nod from Wanda.

“I did my makeup actually, my best friend Lizzy, she gave me a step by step guide, helped me to color match—”

You barely got the words out before feeling Wanda’s fingers tighten around your shoulder, probably turning white, her nostrils flaring, green eyes filled with rage.

“Told you.” Rio smirked liked she just won the lottery. 

You don’t notice the head tilt from across the room.

The glass being set down.

The frown.

The jingle of a bell.

Natasha Romanoff was never one for sitting idly by, and as soon as she saw the tension shift, she made her way towards you, jaw clenched. 

Her scent of cinnamon and pumpkin spice wrapping round you like armour, and her eyes darting from Wanda’s grip, to a death glare, to Rio’s grin, to Betsy’s curiosity and then to your confusion—and she just knew what this was about.

“Let’s see, something to do with Iris or Lizzy?” Nat asked.

Firm.

Controlled.

Already knowing.

Rio dips her glass, nodding, “ding, ding, ding.” her voice smooth and controlled.

“Rio.” Natasha’s voice dropped—but it wasn’t a warning it was something else, like a question maybe.

Rio stepped forward, not too close but close enough she was able to gently brush her thumb over your cheek. 

Your eyes drifted up to Wanda—cheeks already pink from the attention—not Rios, Wanda and Nat’s. Their protectiveness of you, like you were already there’s in every way that mattered—except the one you wanted. “Eyes up here sweetheart.” Rio murmured.

“Rio, she’s not yours to play with. Stop.” Wanda clenched her jaw as the fire behind her eyes only became stronger.

“Oh don’t worry, I don’t want her, but,” Rio chuckled, keeping her eyes on you “would you mind if I changed your makeup a little? This is just too harsh for your beautiful face.”

Your head tilted up to Wanda.

Why you weren’t sure, maybe to make sure it was okay—not that you needed her permission—it was more approval.

Wanda smiled softly nodding her head. 

Despite the conversation, she clearly trusted Rio on some level or another.

“Good.” Rio turned to Betsy. Finger under her chin, tilting. “Don’t move okay? I won’t be long.” Rio paused waiting for a response “answer me.”

“Okay…mama.” Betsy looked as if she was about to fall apart as the words left her mouth, only loud enough for Rio to hear.

“Good girl.” And Rio turned back to you, hand reaching for yours. “Come on. We won’t be long, I promise.” Rio reassured both Wanda and Nat, who didn’t take their eyes off you as you were guided away from them and towards the stairs.

Rio guided you up into the bathroom.

You could feel the anxiety in your chest rising—breathing, lungs inhaling and exhaling with every stupid step.

She sat you on top of the closed toilet seat, picked out the brushes, make-up supplies she needed.

Wanda downstairs was so close to cracking her glass with her bare hands.

“If she mentions it to bug, I’ll kill her.” Wanda gritted her teeth “we have a plan, if she—”

“Wands, even Rio isn’t stupid enough, but she may get the ball rolling before we’re ready, so let’s prepare for the, hmm?” Nat pressed a kiss into Wanda’s warming cheek, guiding her face back to her. “it’ll be okay my love. Just breathe.”

But even with Nat’s reassuring words, Wanda’s knuckles turned white.

A single drop of wine sliding over her finger like blood.

Nat cupped Wanda’s warm cheek against her palm “We’ll handle it if it happens, okay? I promise.”

Back upstairs, your feet were bouncing like tigger on the bathroom floor.

A brush hovering inches from your face, gripped between Rio’s fingers.

“So have they asked you to be their sub yet or are you not interested?” Rio brushed her thumb over your cheek, gentle, soft, until she looked satisfied.

“Uhh—” the air in your lungs stopped flowing, eyes wide, tilting your head in the same way Wanda does “Sub? What’s… what’s a sub?” Your whole body paused looking to Rio, completely perplexed as to what she was talking about. The only sub you knew was in bread form and you were certain that’s not what she meant.

Rio froze mid brush “Oh, I guess not,” and she carried on with sorting the rest of you makeup—just as you began fidgeting a little with the material of your dress, fingers moving over the hem, rubbing it between your thumb and finger to try and calm your racing thoughts. 

“Wait, what’s a sub?” You pushed for an answer, which was unlike you, but something in you needed to know.

Rio just quirked an eyebrow at you. “That’s for them to tell you, and I’ve put my foot in it, now,” she placed the brush to the side, picking up another item “why don’t you tell me some fairy facts, Nat says you know quite a few.”

“I, I mean I do but,” there was a tremble to your voice, one which Rio noticed but didn’t mention “What if it’s too weird? Or umm, too much for you?” You felt the liquid on your palms, the sweat dripping down to your wrist.

Rio gently catches your chin with her fingers, applying a small amount of blush to your cheeks, just subtle “You’ll never be too much for the right people—your clearly important to Wanda and Nat, which means what you have to say is important, they wouldn’t keep you around—and they certainly wouldn’t have you meeting their friends from this particular circle if they weren’t planning on keeping you around for a long time to come.” Rio turns your head slightly to the side, and wipes of the lip stick “far too dark for you…”

“Well, umm, did you know some historians think ‘fairy encounters’ were used as socially acceptable explanations for trance states, seizures, or neurodivergent behavior. Which is… so stupid honestly.” You pasued expecting Rio to tell you it was a stupid fact that she didn’t want to hear about, but she was just listening, nodding and smiling as you pulled out a sparkly green lipgoss, one that she said didn’t wash you out.

“Pucker your lips for me,” Rio smiled as she slid the new gloss over your lips, then got you to press them together. “Tell me more?”

“Okay, well, did you know that in the Scottish witch trial records, some of those accused of witchcraft actually claimed that they learned magic from the fae, and that’s partly why fairy lore and witchcraft got so tangled together when it comes to their history...” Rio helped you stand back up, showing you a mirror where you saw your face and realised how much better you looked… you were more you, so why hadn’t Lizzy given you that? Why did she make you look so…you just didn’t understand it.

“That’s better. That’s the you they fell for…beautiful.” Rio packed everything away, make up and brushes all settled back inside Wanda’s bag, and then Rio took your hand again, as you continued to talk about the fairy facts as you walked down stairs.

You could hear Wanda and Nat laughing as you stepped down each step, talking fast about the fairies “The Fairies weren’t originally tiny, actually in early Celtic lore they are seen basically as like nature spirits or fallen gods of goddesses. Which I honestly love. Also, Fairy rings were thought to be portals or ritual spaces, so stepping into one on Samhain was really considered extra dangerous. Like, spiritually reckless.” You stopped speaking, a little breathless as you came back into view of everyone else again—completely missing the meaning behind Wandas’s words to her wife of panic “Nat, no! We can’t have that conversation NOW, she’s still too innocent to even know what a riding crop is”

“A riding crop?” You frown, stepping back up beside them, Rio having walked away and back with her wife and Betsy. Fauna was now back with Peggy and Angie, despite now looking a little red and rubbing her backside, even with Peggy telling her to stop every time she did.

“A riding crop? like for horses?” you asked so innocently, making Wanda smirk as she looked down into her swirling wine, and Nat wheezing into the pumpkin dip she had in her hand.

Nats shoulders shaking, whilst Wanda side eyed her telling her to control herself, as you stood yourself between them “No honey, but let’s table that topic, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed, taking a cracker from the table and dipping into the pumpkin dip that Nat was holding. 

With them you were never scared to be yourself, never anxious—well only a little, but not because they made you uncomfortable, but because your feelings were confusing. Every time you thought about it, you began to spiral, which didn’t help with the fact you saw them multiple times a week, but what else could you do? You wanted to spend time with them, you weren’t going to stop visiting them just because you were confused, that made no logical sense.

“Christopher.” Nats voice broke through your spiraling thoughts.

“What?” You practically jumped out of your skin at the name being mentioned, eyes wide and a burning face, and your breathing faster.

“Bug…hey…I was just saying you have a few…missed calls and messages from Christopher.” Nats eyes looked down to where you had dropped your phone on the table before Rio took you away.

“Did you—did you read them?” You felt a lump catch in your throat as you asked, hoping with everything inside that they had not.

“No, no, never.” Nat responded quickly, palm cupping your face “sweetheart, I’d never do that, not unless someone gives me premission, even with Wanda,” she looked towards her wife, both looking as if their anger for this man child was just about to boil over like hot lava “we don’t look at each others phone unless we tell each other we have to, okay?” Her fingers slowly tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear, and Wanda pressed her hand to to your back.

Your eyes were brimming, and your voice cracked as you let the next set of words leave your mouth “He’s just…he’s mad I came here, and I told him he couldn’t come.”

Wanda’s knuckes were turning white around her glass, her hand on your back began to rub soothing circles, gentle, in comparison to her other hand. 

Then there was Nat—her jaw tight, barely restraining her past.

Over the next hour you got to know everyone at the party. Peggy and Angie were a particularly unsal couple with the young girl Fauna, who you found out was also their partner. 

Wanda and Nat couldn’t help but laugh at the way you screwed up your nose in confusion at how that worked, but you didn’t pry just yet.

You and Fauna got on really well, and having a love of witches and fairies and folklore made it so that you could talk all night long if everyone let you. Then there was Agatha and Rio, and their partner Betsy. Again you got on well with Betsy, although she did seem a little more skitish than you expected, but lovely all the same. Rio was someone you seemed to get along with, she listented to you…but something lingered in your mind, something she had said, about this is being who they fell for. 

What did she even mean by that?

Your fingers seem to burn against the glass itself, you didn’t have alchol, you never did. Just appletiser, but even so, you watched the bubbles, eyes laser focused as they fizzed and popped in the liquid—Rios own words echoing, etching into your brain like they were made to stay—you didn’t even hear the click, click of the heels walk across the room, but the scent of vanilla caught your nose and you lifted your head just as you saw her soft smile reach your eyes, her fingers curling softly around your upper arm.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” she asked softly, taking a slow sip of her wine “food won’t be long, okay?”

“Mmmhh,” you barely covered up the whimper, and you were certain Wanda had heard with the twitch of her lips. You quickly looked back to Fauna and Besty, hoping for some kind of saving—but they didn’t know what was happening in your brain.

How could they save you from something they weren’t even aware off?

You however, where very aware of your pulse beating in your ear, you could feel it, your blood rushing, your palms sweating so much you had to keep changing hands with holding your glass, and Wanda never took her eyes off you which only made you blush harder.

Trying to refocus your brain away from Wanda’s gentle touch or her unenrving green eyes, or the feel of her breath on your skin or the way you never wanted her to leave your sight again, but you needed to move your brain along, so you tried to focus on the party itself—the chatter, the pouring of wine, the soft laughter from Wanda again, and Nat’s bell around her neck—the other people at the party seemed nice enough, Pepper Potts was there which felt a bit odd with her being your housing officer, but you hadn’t really spoken to her much other than when she had first arrived, then there was Lilia Calderu and Jenny Kale, you didn’t know much about them but Wanda looked a bit put out by there arrival.

They were late.

Wanda didn’t like lateness.

She never had.

But for some reason, with these two, there was something underlying, and when they started to laugh with Agatha and Rio, Wanda looked as if she was going to hex them.

“Dinner is served!” Nat announced, standing in the middle of living area, having already set up the dinner table, where there were names set, at each place setting.

But just as you stepped forward with Wanda, the chime from their front door made you pause—no you froze. Wanda and Nat both looked to each with confussion.

“Everyone’s here?” Nat asked, more as confirmation than a question, as everyone else stampeeded past her into the dining room.

But you stayed.

Something told you not to move, not to go forward and sit down, but to wait—to find out with them who was at the door. Wanda stayed with you. Hand on your back and instinctively pulling you closer, which you very much allowed—Nat though, walked forward with purpose, her bell jingling which if it wasn’t so serious would have been amusing.

Nat looked towards you both with a smile that breathed air into your lungs, she turned back, hand to handle and pulled, to be greeted by a man.

Tall.

Handsome.

But a smile than unerved her.

“Can I help you? This is a private dinner party.” Nat asked.

You couldn’t see who it was yet, Nat hadn’t opened the door wide enough, but you felt it, you sensed it, you could smell him. Your whole body tensed, your muscles turning to led—and Wanda felt it, she scraped your hair back from your face.

Then he spoke.

“Hi, is A Miss Y/LN here?” The mans voice wasn’t one you would expect from a guy in his 20’s. It was almost gruff, making hime sound like he was forty. But then he coughed to clear his throat and his voice went back to normal. “I’m Christopher you see—”

“Oh, you’re him are you? Have to say haven’t heard much about you.” Nat responded, foot by the door as your own heart thumped in your chest—what the fuck was he doing here? How dare he come and ruin the one night you’ve been looking forward to for a week.

You had done nothing but speak about this evening to him and you knew that’s what got under his skin, that you would rather spend tonight with not just people who weren’t him, but it was the fact that it was Wanda and Natasha, and a party that only had women there…you hadn’t entirely realised how misogionistic he was.

You had to swallow down any emotions that you felt bubbling to the surface, you couldn’t let Wanda or Nat see that he did get to you, that his words or even just his pressence hurt you—how was it that it took you until this moment to realise that if he loved you, like really loved you, in the ways that he said he did, he would’t have tracked you to their house—and you knew that was a conversation to be had.

“See we had plans,” Christopher shifted, unnerved by Nats cold voice wrapping around him like a snake, she had ended far worse men than him before having Sorbet. “She really should be spending this time with me, I am her boyfreind after all.”

Wanda stepped forward now, she had heard enough of this nonsense, her fingers brushing your arm and motioning for you to stay put. She reached the door, and stood as a united front with Nat, shielding you from this man. The one you call your boyfriend, not that you had mentioned him much since you came into their lives. “Christopher, I think you should leave. I won’t ask you nicely again.”

“I don’t think that’s your choice is it Ma’am.” He snivelled, saying it like he was the one that was in charge, the one that knew you better than them—no he just liked to control you.

His niceness was always what ended up with things getting bad later, the arguments, the control, the you saying sorry for things you hadn’t even done—but you said it to pacify him. It was easier. You sure as hell weren’t going to let Wanda, Nat and their friends get carried into the damn mess of your life.

Your fist clecneched at your side, before you forced yourself to move towards the door, stomach clenching as you pushed your fairy body between them, wings folding and opening as you moved in front of them. Vanilla and cinnamon mixing, lingering beside you. “It’s fine, I’ll talk to you, but I’m not leaving them.”

The look on Christopher told you he wasn’t happy, but he nodded, accepting your words in one way or another.

“Are you sure sweetheart?” Wanda asked, her fingers gently stroking your elbow, lighting up your nerves and pulling you in to them with every touch, further and deeper.

“I-,” you hesitated for just a moment “I’m sure, give me five minutes okay?” You breathed, but you knew there was no way in hell that they would leave you alone with him, not now that they had met him—and realised the situation was far worse than they had originally realised—and it was about to intensify.

“Ahh see, there’s a good girl.” Christopher smirked, his fingers quickly lacing into yours before you could pull away and tugged you forward, making you stumble just slightly. The absolute fire behind both Nat and Wanda’s eyes, you snapped your head round to them, almost shaking your whole body, to ensure they didn’t pounce—not that, that would have honestly been a bad idea.

You walk with Christopher down the end of the path, your not actually sure how your feet were moving—but by some miracle they were. You needed to let him have this conversation before he left, otherwise it would just be worse for you later. You knew that. You always knew. But they didn’t and you needed to keep it that way.

Wanda and Nat saw him for who he was, but you? You knew the ways he was with you wasn’t healthy, but you still didn’t think he was altogether bad—there was just…no connection. Sometimes you wondered if that was because of you? But there was more to it—more that others didn’t see and more than even you refused to acknowledge yourself.

Each step felt longer and heavier than the last, your breath slow as you felt his sticky hands clinging to yours. He was calm. Too calm. Normal breathing compared to your heavier breaths, coming in spurts.

“That’s far enough, thank you.” Nat called out, arms folded leaning against the door frame—she was not letting him take you any further than the gate. You would stay in her line of sight, so she could keep an eye on you both. At least this way you knew that he wouldn’t do his usual shit.

You fingers were in Christophers hand, but not like that of a loving couple. He was in control. His fingers gripped yours. Tight. His eyes darkened, lips curling upwards in a way that made you shiver, and not in a good way.

“I’m not leaving.” You mumble, all the confidence and fire you had just five minutes ago standing in a room of people who who made you feel good, that had disapated.

Christopher laughed “Oh, I know sweetheart, it’s okay.” His fingers touched your cheek, and you flinched. Subtle, but it was there. Enough for Nat to see it.

“Did you just see that?” Wanda frowned, her hand on the low of Natasha’s back, fingers tightening from seeing you so scared and not even being able to admit the truth to them.

“She flinched.” Nat’s jaw tightened, watching on, her hand reaching for Wanda’s to ground her. “This is the last time he ever gets to see her.”

“Nat, that’s not your choice.” Wanda leaned further into her wife’s body, feeling the tension—she felt it too, they wanted to protect you, they were fierce when it came to you, in way that they hadn’t been with any one else before.

You just didn’t realise how much.

Nat saw you. She saw every subtle movement, every flinch that you thought you had kept hidden.

But you hadn’t. Not from her. Never from her or them.

That woman was terrifying in her own way, but she never made you feel uneasy or on edge.

Not once.

Christophers touch wasn’t gentle in the way that Wanda’s was. His was harsh, threatening and always a warning to you.

Behave or you’ll regret it.

He. Fucking. Terrified. You.

“Okay?” You asked, head turning and glancing up to Nat and Wanda. 

Nat was still cross armed, bell jingling everytime she moved, her face filled with pure anger about to snap. Wanda though, stood, back stright and head tilted with a small smile directed only for you to see.

“Yes, I knew you wouldn’t leave” Christopher leaned in, making it look to Wanda and Nat as if he was just kissing your cheek, like a loving boyfriend, his fingers moved down to your hips, squeezing tight, thumb pressing in on the bruise he knew was there from when you walked into the cuboard the other day, making you wince. “You will come to mine tommorrow. Do you understand me?”

No words left you mouth. Almost too scared to speak, incase it was wrong, or more frighteningly, incase it was right.

“Oh I know it’s hard sweetheart with people watching, especially with them, but come on, use your big girl words, I know you can do it.” Christopher smirked in that way that made you feel sick to your stomach, your heart was in your damn throat, and if his hand hand’t been on your elbow, yout knees would have buckled.

You swallowed hard, trying to find any part of you that had the strength to say some truth to him, even if it didn’t end particularlly well for you “We’re not going to last much longer if you don’t change Christopher, but fine. As you wish. I will be there.” You never liked confontation, you always struggled standing up for yourself, but here you were just doing that, even if it was with a shake to your voice.

“And when I text or call you, you answer me.” His grip tightened on your hip.

“No.” You murmured “I’m giving my phone to Nat, and she will hold onto it for the night. I’m not doing this tonight, and you can not hurt me in front of them.” your face was flushed with the pure panick from what you had just said, of standing your ground.

You took a deep breath, holding back the anger that would turn to tears behind your eyes, and just as you turned to walk away he grabbed your wrist, squeezing tight—your muscles tightened immediately, and he whispered something under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear. “They’ve changed you.”

“No, they just showed me who I was hiding…” Your eyes flicked down to where he was holding your wrist “I would let go before Nat snaps your arm in half though.” Just as your words left your mouth Nats bell was ringing as she walked towards you. Christopher quickly unclasped his fingers and left through the gate, not wanting to have an argument about you—not with them.

One thing for Christopher, he always knew when he would not win in a fight.

Your whole body unclenched as Nat reached your side, bell jingling, her fingers gripping your arm, no words, just a look as she held you still for a moment, and you nodded. 

You were okay, at last, you were okay.

Tag list: @mouseratface @lizziescutiepie @fxckmiup @eatingouturmomrn @natashasmuse @tardis05 @libbyofc @rur-rue03 @sapphicpuppyy @cloudskami @truthindreams @mindofwesley @toe19 @nanou4204 @wandanat01

[marvelselfinserts]

can you do autistic child reader and wandanat as their moms? They get bullied at school and have a sensory overload. They end up in the office bc the teacher called them a distraction and the principal wants them out. Wandanat protects them and brings them home before helping them fully calm down and makes them a bottle of warm milk and they cuddle with reader who falls asleep in their arms. Nat and Wanda talk to the board about what happened and the mean staff get fired. They then decide to home school reader

School Board

Mom!ScarletWidow & Autistic!Teen!Reader [A/N] Happy Sunday everyone! Anyone got any fun plans? 🥰 Hope I've done this one some justice for you my lovely ❤️

Natasha has grown to hate the sound of her phone ringing. Nothing fills her with dread more than the sound of it chiming. In the middle of the day it’s likely to be only one thing. Your damn school calling her up to tell her there’s been some kind of problem.

For a moment Natasha is tempted to just let it ring. Yesterday they’d called her to let them know you’d taken too long eating your food at lunch and you were currently missing your lesson to finish. She’d told them before you’re a slow eater and that you’d probably eat a bit quicker if you could have your own quieter place to eat. They’d said they’d ‘look into it’. In the meantime you were still eating in the noisy canteen, you were taking too long to eat, and the school were complaining. As if Natasha hadn’t literally given them the solution already.

What ultimately makes her answer the phone is the worry that you’re upset. Sometimes the school do call because you’re just too overwhelmed and she has to pick you up. Natasha had argued with them already, saying again that you needed somewhere quiet to retreat to when you were feeling overwhelmed. It was another thing they were ‘looking into’. Their resistance to provide such simple accommodations makes her want to scream and today she’s so frustrated that she’s practically looking for a fight.

“Hello,” Natasha answers.

“Miss Romanoff, can you come and pick up Y/N please? They’re not having a great day and probably best for them to just go home.”

“What happened?”

“We’re not sure but we think something happened at lunch. You can speak to the Principal when you get here.”

Oh, she will. It’s Friday and Natasha has picked you up early every single day this week. It’s like the school have completely given up on you. Easier to just send you home than actually try and deal with the issues you’re facing.

Natasha goes to find her partner, Wanda. She’s in the middle of teaching Kamala in the gym, having taken over part of the Young Avengers programme, but she immediately stops and follows after Natasha when she realises she’s picking you up from school. “Did they say what had happened?”

Natasha shakes her head. “No but I’ve had enough of this. We’re talking with the Principal whether he likes it or not.”

You’d been adopted by Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff when you were a baby. Your birth mother hadn’t wanted to be a parent and had placed you for adoption whilst you were still inside of her. Natasha and Wanda had been able to bring you home from the hospital and be your parents’ right from the day you were born. They’d loved you from the moment they’d laid eyes on you, feeling they were always destined to be your parents.

As you grew they began to notice you weren’t always meeting your milestones or behaving in the way their friends’ babies were. When they’d taken you to their Doctor they’d begun an assessment for you until you’d eventually been diagnosed with autism. It had been a long uphill battle but your Moms’ were happy to have the diagnosis, assuming now that they could access the relevant support needed to help you.

You hadn’t met the threshold for a special school so they’d registered you at a mainstream elementary school. That had been okay – the staff had taken the time to get to know you and had been understanding. You’d had good friends who didn’t mind your little quirks and ticks. Middle School had also been okay. By the time you’d gotten to High School though it had all begun to fall apart – the larger school with more kids wasn’t working for you but Natasha and Wanda were struggling to find a school more appropriate for your needs. They kept being told your current school should be accommodating you. Fine in theory but given that they weren’t your parents’ frustration was mounting.

When your Moms’ arrive at the school they storm straight into the reception. The bell clearly hasn’t long gone for lesson change and students pass by, running and shouting at each other. It’s overwhelming for Natasha and Wanda, let alone for you. They’re even more annoyed to find you’ve been left to sit on a chair outside the principal’s office by yourself whilst you’re so overwhelmed. The chaos of your fellow students heading to their next class doesn’t help and you clamp your hands over your ears. A couple of students glance at you as they walk past and Wanda quickly moves to block their view of you protectively.

Wanda grabs your backpack, pulling out your noise-cancelling headphones and helping you put them on. You flap your hands and Wanda pulls you into her arms, trying to shield you from the chaos as much as possible. When you’re overloaded you like the pressure to help you feel grounded – if you don’t have your weighted blanket, a tight hug from your Moms’ can work too. Natasha wants to knock as hard as possible on the Principal’s door, the anger and irritation coursing through her veins, but she resists, not wanting to upset you further. Her hand curls into a tight fist but she keeps her knock on the door as gentle as possible.

Before the Principal can respond Natasha opens the door and lets herself in. He glances up at her, holding up a finger to indicate that he’s on a call. Natasha sees red and presses her finger to end the call. He looks startled. “Miss Romanoff-”

“Every single day this week you’ve called us to pick up Y/N. When are you finally going to put in accommodations for them? I’m so sick-”

Natasha continues ranting whilst Wanda continues to hold you just outside the office. Once the hallways have emptied again she sits down, pulling you into her lap and rocking you gently. Wanda wants to ask you what happened but she knows it’s useless right now. Pushing you to talk will only make you shut down further and you do seem to be calming a little. No point in upsetting you again, you’ll talk when you’re ready. She hears you tunelessly humming and kisses your forehead, silently reassuring you that she’s here.

“It’s difficult when Y/N gets overwhelmed. My staff aren’t sure what to do-”

“And they’ve never had any disability training? There must be something available. We told you weeks ago it would be helpful if they could have a key person like they did in elementary school, someone who knows them and knows how to deal with their meltdowns. They shouldn’t be having meltdowns every single day anyway. What happened?”

“We’re still gathering the details but from what I can gather, I think some other students were being unkind to them in the cafeteria.”

Natasha runs a hand through her hair, having to purse her lips together for a moment to keep herself from shouting. “So now you’re telling me that they’re being bullied? What’s your plan for that?”

“I didn’t say they were being bullied-”

“But you are investigating the kids who were being mean to them? You must have some kind of bullying policy.”

“We do have a zero tolerance policy on bullying but like I said, it doesn’t seem-”

“Did you talk to Y/N?”

“We weren’t able to, they just completely shut down which isn’t entirely helpful-”

Natasha has to resist the urge to slam her fist down on the desk. “You are blocking them from learning. They had a meltdown maybe once or twice a semester in elementary. Every single day this week you’ve asked me to pick them up early, and I’m sure it was every day last week too. How are they meant to learn if they can’t even trust you to look after them?”

Wanda kisses your forehead again, using her powers to close the door to the Principal’s office quietly. Whilst she wants to listen, to back up Natasha, she doesn’t want you hearing it and right now, you’re her priority. Her hand rubs up and down your back, finding herself relaxing as you relax into her embrace. Wanda remembers the worry she’d felt when you were first diagnosed. The uncertainty, the doubt, the anxiety. Throughout it all though, she’s always loved you. You were her kid and she didn’t care what difficulties came their way, she’d always be there for you.

Another ten minutes pass before Natasha comes out of the Principal’s office, resisting the urge to slam the door shut behind her. Wanda keeps her arm firmly wrapped around you as you all head out to the car. Natasha doesn’t say anything and Wanda doesn’t press her for answers just yet. Her first priority is getting you home and helping you calm down.

An hour later you’re back in your bedroom at the compound, your weighted blanket wrapped around you, your head on Wanda’s shoulder. Natasha’s downstairs in the kitchen, making you a mug of warm milk, a tradition that had started right from when you were little. Wanda kisses the top of your head. “How are you feeling kid?”

“I’m okay,” You mumble back.

Wanda nods, her hand rubbing up and down your arm. “Did something specific happen today? Or just another one of those days?”

You think about it for a moment, trying to organise your thoughts into something coherent. “Some of the other kids were saying mean things to me. I just wanted to eat.”

“What were they saying?”

You shake your head, not wanting to tell her but you do offer up, “They were making fun of my lunchbox.”

Wanda leans her head against yours. You’d had that ‘Scooby-Doo’ lunchbox for years; it’s always been one of your interests. She’d worried the other kids would make fun of it but was it that much different to the anime lunchboxes some of the other kids brought in? The thought of anyone making fun of you for something so little makes her heart hurt. “Did you tell a teacher?”

You shake your head. “There’s no point. They just tell me to ignore it.”

Natasha comes into your bedroom, handing you your mug of warm milk. “So you had a meltdown at lunchtime? Because the kids were being mean to you?”

You shake your head again. “I was mostly okay. I went to Science and I kinda like Science, especially because we were doing chemical reactions. I was feeling a little overwhelmed though so I told the teacher and he told me to just sit down and be quiet. Everything felt so loud and I could hear the other kids laughing and I was convinced it was at me and I just… Well, you know.”

Natasha fumes, trying to keep the irritated expression off her face. She doesn’t want you to think she’s mad at you, it wasn’t your fault. “This is getting ridiculous. You should’ve been able to have a few minutes somewhere quiet to try and calm down.”

“I got sent to the Principal’s office. The teacher said I was distracting everybody.”

It’s Wanda who fumes this time, holding you tighter and flashing Natasha an irritated look. They’d long suspected that the Principal’s reluctance to actually put anything in place for you was because they knew it would be easier if you just left. He’d rather deny you an education than actually figure out how to try and help you.

“I don’t think I like school anymore,” You mumble dejectedly.

Wanda sighs, leaning her head against yours. You’d loved school when you were younger – you liked the routine, seeing your friends and you had a thirst for knowledge. Now they struggle to get you up in the mornings and they can see you getting anxious the night before as well. Natasha kisses your cheek “It’s going to be okay kid. We’ll get this sorted out. We promise.”

Natasha stands up, smoothing out her blazer as she walks out of the room. It’s been a week since she picked you up from school and she’s amazed at how much can change in a week if you know the right people. All it had taken was one quick conversation with Tony about how his favourite godchild was struggling in school and he’d arranged a meeting with the school board. Had hired the best lawyer in the city who’d combed through the school’s policies and had practically picked them apart in front of the school board.

Tony’s lawyer was clearly the best in the business and had practically torn the school a new one for letting you struggle for as long as you had. The Principal and your Science teacher were losing their jobs. An inclusion policy for students with special needs was being drafted as they speak. Hopefully it would benefit future students to the school – it was too late for you unfortunately. The damage had been done. Natasha and Wanda are going to home school you.

Another idea of Tony’s – your Moms’ had worried they wouldn’t be able to teach you given their positions as Avengers but he’d tired a tutor for you. Someone to tailor the curriculum to you and your needs. Tony had even volunteered to talk Science with you once a week in his workshop, wanting to nurture your interest in something he loved too. You’d still be able to socialise with other kids – you’d joined a ‘young writers’ group a while ago that met every Thursday evening, and Wanda had been looking online for groups where homeschooled children could meet up. There were a few other parents who had children with autism who’d struggled with the rigid school setup. It was a big comfort to her and Natasha.

At home Wanda sits on the couch, her arm around you as you both watch the ‘Scooby-Doo’ movie for what feels like the millionth time. Not that she minds – she likes seeing the smile on your face as you watch Scooby get up to his usual antics. She presses a kiss to your forehead “I love you kid.”

“Love you too Mom.”

Her heart warms at your words and she kisses the top of your head, watching the way your focus is nearly entirely on the movie. Your diagnosis had been a surprise to them and it had seemed daunting at first but Wanda wouldn’t change you for the world. You’re her kid – and she loves you just the way that you are.