#autistic!t

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punk!ty always acts all rough n tough but whenever he's regressed he's just a cute lil thing rolling around babbling n stimming freely and its so endearing to blurry and josh?

he always sits on the floor at their feet and plays with his toys, making little noises and rocking back and forth.

sometimes he’ll drool if he’s super relaxed, lying on the floor rubbing his palms on the scratchy fibers of the carpet. or he’ll play with josh’s pants leg, sifting it between his fingers or laying his head on blurry’s lap, he’s such an angel they love him so much

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What if Autistic Tyler + Josh try smth sexual and he has an overload and they need to stop?

tyler gasps and his back bows almost violently upward, ribcage opening itself under josh, whose stomach brushes the expanding slats with every thrust.

he tries to slow, but tyler’s tight heat wrapped around him is making it difficult to comply with what’s in the back of his mind. so he grunts “ty?” and scrapes a thumb at tyler’s side.

“josh,” tyler says, but it comes out more like ‘jo-osh,’ faint and hiccupy. his blunt fingers circle josh’s biceps, squeezing and then starting to shake. “oh, i…i can’t…josh, i can’t, please…can you…”

what tyler wants to say is stop. josh knows this.

so he stops, panting and pressing his sweaty forehead to where tyler’s ribcage is slowly curling back in on itself, back to normal. “tyler, what’s wrong? did i do something?”

because now tyler is scrubbing at his eyes with balled-up fists, knees pressed together with his thighs and calves at an awkward outward angle around josh’s waist. “no, it’s…not you, i…” one hand comes to drag at his lower lip, pulling it down to show the bubblegum pink of his gums, white teeth jutting up at odd angles like jagged mountaintops. “pull out. please. i can’t take it.”

josh, who thought things were going fine until now, pulls out slowly, grabbing at the end of the condom to make sure it stays on. his fingers are wet and sticky with lube, erection waning as he kneels between tyler’s legs and watches tyler cry.

“ty, what-”

“i’m sorry,” tyler finally breaks, resting his legs down on the sheets and holding both arms out, like a zombie set to rise. “josh, come here. i’m sorry. it was just a lot. i couldn’t do it, i’m sorry.”

“hey, it’s okay.” josh shakes his head, stretches out beside tyler to feel tyler’s arms wrap around him. “just want to make sure i didn’t go too fast or do anything wrong-”

“no. it was me. it was too much, i’m so-” he looks bashfully up at josh, face red and eyes glistening. he clears his throat. “it was just so much, i couldn’t deal with it. m-maybe one day.”

“one day,” josh promises, knowing that even if it takes years for that one day to get there, it will eventually arrive. and tyler will be able to share himself with josh in ways he wasn’t able to before.

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autistic!little!blur being more grump than usual because today is one of his more nonverbal days but he wants attention from josh n doesnt know how to tell him

josh never makes him talk when he doesn’t want to. which tyler is grateful for.

but when he doesn’t want to talk he can’t very well tell josh what he wants. which today happens to be unending love and affection from his dada.

he pouts at the kitchen table and tugs on josh’s sleeve when josh sets his cereal in front of him.

josh cradles a hand at the back of his head and frowns. “you okay, ty?”

tyler lists toward josh, almost toppling his chair over. luckily josh steadies him with a hand on his shoulder instead.

“ty, baby, talk to me.”

he can’t. so instead he clings to josh’s arm and looks dolefully up at him.

seeming to understand, and with a knowing little smile, josh disentangles himself from tyler and goes to get the notepad.

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josh n blur having lots of meetings through out the day at their house n punk!autistic!ty sitting with them through most of them n by the time the last meeting is over he's overwhelmed n overstimulated so they just sit with him playing with his hair without even asking why he's teary eyed

as soon as the door to the office closes behind their last client, blurry stands from his chair and goes to tyler’s.

tyler, who is almost crying, rubbing the palm of his hand back and forth and back and forth over the arm of his chair.

blurry scoops him up and tyler comes easily, arms and legs wrapping around blur as he presses his face to blurry’s shoulder and mutters, “head hurts.”

blur sits back down with tyler in his lap, cradles a hand at the apex of his shoulder blades and lets josh wheel over in his own chair, carding gentle fingers through tyler’s spiked up hair. it’s greasy and pointy from where he’s been playing with it all day, but josh smooths it down as blurry starts to hum.

with a quick jerk, tyler butts his forehead against blurry’s chin. “no sound,” he whispers. “please. need quiet.”

so blurry shuts up, starts to rock tyler instead as josh curls his hand around the back of tyler’s neck.

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what if punk!ty had lots of diffculty expressing his emotions especially when he wants affection or something? bc his entire life he was forced to act tougher than he really is and being autistic makes it way harder so whenever he tries to express the need for attention or something blur n j praise him so much (even if he can't get it out right)

normally he acts out if he wants attention - getting in trouble with the local police or breaking something in the house.

but sometimes - when he’s feeling particularly out of his mind and needs something from blur and josh, anything - he’ll come up behind one of them and hug them.

he presses his face into the crisp white of josh’s dress shirt, chest heaving with shuddering breaths.

josh, who has been in the middle of chopping veggies for dinner, wipes his hands and hums. “ty?”

tyler makes a muffled noise and pushes his face into josh’s back so hard that it’s gotta hurt his nose.

“tyler.”

“want,” tyler says, but doesn’t say what he wants. can’t.

“i know,” josh says anyway, pries tyler’s arms from around his middle so he can turn easily, scooping tyler up and bringing his boy’s legs around his waist. “i know, ty. just let daddy hold you.”

tyler grunts and mouths at josh’s neck, arms rigid around his shoulders. “gonna.”

it isn’t long before blurry joins them as well, pressing himself along tyler’s back and peppering kisses at the nape of his neck, rubbing circles at his side, over his hoodie. “our good boy,” he soughs, other hand in tyler’s sheared hair. “perfect boy.”

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imagine if at the start of the au punk!ty thought no one was watching him when he was cleaning the house so he starts humming and babbling to himself to stim but josh n blur are a little ways away watching an theyre so smitten and when they coo at him he gets all grumpy

he’s been humming one of his favorite theme songs to himself all afternoon, something he loved when he was a kid. and babbling about nothing in particular, scrubbing hard at the side of the house to try and divest it of the paint he sprayed.

josh and blur aren’t home and no one’s out on the front street, meaning he’s free to stim all he wants, sat in the warm afternoon sun in just his shirt and shorts, scrubbing and humming and humming and scrubbing.

until blurry comes around the side of the house, grinning.

tyler shrieks and drops the rag, which hits the bucket of water and splatters soapy bubbles all over him. “you aren’t home,” tyler insists, trembling. because what if someone saw?

“been home for a while,” blurry answers, still with that same grin. there’s something oddly comforting about it. “josh has, too.”

blurry’s hands are shoved into the pockets of his slacks, but he motions with a crooked elbow back behind the house, presumably to the back deck.

josh joins then a moment later, mimosa in hand. he’s sipping delicately, but grinning too. same as blur.

“whatever,” tyler dismisses them, fingers shaking as he picks the rag back up and wrings it out. “you didn’t hear anything.”

josh pops off of his straw with a satisfied gasp. “heard a lot. it was cute.”

“i’m not cute,” tyler grumbles, face flaming. he’s back to scrubbing at the wall, not looking in their direction.

“yes, you are,” blurry insists, and the crunching of the grass tells tyler he’s coming closer.

he surprisingly doesn’t flinch when blurry’s fingers find their way into his hair, scratching softly. “adorable.”

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blur and j trying to bottlefeed punk!ty to get him to wind down from being overwhelmed

he's being really feisty, whining and turning away from them, wriggling out of blurry's hold and knocking the bottle from josh's hands.eventually blur wrestles him down and josh pets his hair back, damp and sweaty from fighting, soothing him as he pops the head of the bottle past his lips.tyler makes a weird guttural noise and then starts to suck, hands balled into fists as he peers up confusedly at blurry.blur bounces tyler on his lap a little. "you okay, baby?"popping off, tyler laps at a droplet of warm milk near the corner of his mouth. "tastes kinda good," he whispers, and then leans up and takes the bottle between his lips once more, humming contentedly as josh continues to pet his hair.

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what about blur and josh getting punk!autistic!ty a paci for comfort/stimming and at first he's against grumbling how he isn't a baby and all that but by the end of the day he's tired n a little overwhelmed so he shyly tries it out?

it bumps awkwardly against his teeth, sitting blandly against his tongue before he starts to suck on it. and finds that he doesn't altogether hate it. the rhythmic sucking motions lull him into a sense of calm, which could just be because it's the end of a long day and he's dead tired, but he doubts it.blur and josh come in to find him curled on the bed watching a movie and sucking on the pacifier with lidded eyes and they're so shook seeing their baby so relaxed aw