#x autistic!reader

"Obviously, Rafey, what if I forget later?"

He rolled his eyes and groaned before reluctantly nodding, flopping dramatically back onto the bed. "Shiiit," he rubbed a hand over his face, "you know I can't fuckin' ever say no to you, princess."

"Thank you, you're the best!" You pecked his lips before sitting back up, wriggling excitedly on top of him, making his cock twitch inside of you. "So earlier I saw this…" Your words faded into white noise in his ears as he stared up at you, his eyes roaming freely over your body as you spoke. God, he loved you, but did you really have to do this now?

He let you ramble on for a few minutes, a rare tender smile on his face as he watched you talk, so animated and happy he didn't want to stop you. His hands were stroking up and down your thighs, a gentle and soothing touch that comforted you and let you know that he was paying attention.

However, each little shift of your hips, each excited wriggle, brought him back to the present and reminded him of the situation, reminded him of his need. Fuck it. He sat back up and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw before he spoke. "You done, baby?"

"Not yet I— o-oh Rafe—"

"Yeah, sounds like you're done t'me." He'd started to fuck up into you while you were talking, his cock rubbing your G-spot just right which caused your mind to go momentarily blank with pleasure, your train of thought completely erased. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him as your pussy clenched around him "Good girl, she's grippin' me so hard, sweetheart."

Rafe leaned his head down, capturing one of your nipples between his lips while he kept up his brutal pace inside you, the lewd sounds coming from between your legs making your skin heat up in embarrassment — you were just so wet. A breathy whimper escaped your lips as he flicked his tongue over your hardened peak, the way his teeth lightly grazed it sending a shudder through your body.

He could tell you were getting close, your pretty moans becoming breathier, your hips grinding against his, your back arching, pushing your breasts closer to his face. "You close, sweet girl? Want you to come f'me, cream on my cock, baby."

"R-Rafey, fuck—" your hand suddenly smacked down on his shoulder, your movements on top of him stopping. He pulled off of your nipple with a wet pop, a flash of annoyance crossing his face when he looked up at you. "I remembered this other thing I wanted to say, you know, the thing I was trying to tell you about earlier that I forgot?"

"Fuckin' Christ," he muttered under his breath. He let you talk for a minute, pinching the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply as he counted to ten before he looked up at you. He cupped your face between his hands, his touch gentle, his thumbs sweeping across your cheekbones. "Sweetheart, baby, princess, the love of my life, I fuckin' adore you, but can you please tell me later?"

You stopped talking immediately, your body deflating, your hands dropping off of him to your lap where they started to fidget nervously. Your gaze left his, your eyes flicking down as you sniffled, quiet but still loud enough that he heard. "O-okay, I'll tell you later. 'M sorry I didn't mean to upset you."

Seeing you so sad made his heart break a little — he never wanted to hurt you, he was just a little frustrated at getting interrupted so much. But he never wanted you to be upset, especially not because of him, and he really would do anything to make you happy. So he brushed a stray strand of your hair back from your face, nudging his forehead against yours to get you to look at him, your teary eyes meeting his.

"Fuck that, princess, I wanna hear."

"No, Rafey, it doesn't matter, I'll just tell you later—""

"Nah, sweet girl, I wasn't asking." He rolled you over in one fluid motion, making sure you were comfortable settled onto the mattress before he kissed you, pressing his body against yours. He started to roll his hips against yours at a languid pace, slowly building the heat back up between you. "New rule, you stop talking and I stop moving, yeah? I wanna hear that pretty voice."

You giggled and he smirked at you, gently wiping the tears from your eyes with the pads of his thumbs. "You're so silly!" you said through a laugh, smacking his bicep lightly before wrapping your arms around his neck, one of your hands moving up to scrape gentle nails against his scalp.

"Yeah but 'm your silly, sweetheart, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Taglist: @eugenesallerton @mousebitesmel @vittoriaxcx

Lmk if you want to be added or removed <3

“Uh… no.”

The woman stared at you for a moment, and you shuffled uncomfortably under her gaze and felt the need to provide a reason for your presence.

“I’m, uh… I’m here to see Rosa. Diaz. She's a detective. Do you know where she is?”

The woman’s face lit up. “Ohhhh… interesting. Did she order Panera, too? Great minds.” She held out your hand for you to shake, so you did. “Gina Linetti,” she told you. “Dancer, secretary, genius.”

“Gina, stop tormenting my girlfriend!”

You’d know that voice anywhere. You visibly relaxed as Rosa walked into the squad room, placing a strong, protective hand at the small of your back.

Gina held up her hands, as if in defense. “Sorry, Rosa. I thought she was Panera.”

“She’s not Panera,” Rosa growled. “She’s my girlfriend, and we’re eating lunch, and you’re leaving us alone.”

Rosa took your hand and led you through the precinct, into a break room scattered with tables where, alone and away from prying eyes, she planted a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

You nodded and held up the bag of food. Rosa gestured toward the table and went to grab napkins and, for neither the first nor the last time, you were grateful that you often didn’t need words with Rosa. You were comfortable in one another’s silence and, for you, this was life-changing. Your words were one of the first things to go when you got overstimulated, but Rosa never seemed to mind. For this, and for many other reasons, you loved her.

But you’d barely started on your lunch before people started trickling into the break room: Jake, Amy, Charles. All ostensibly eating lunch, too, even if they’d already taken lunch, even if all they had was a bag of chips from the vending machine, as Jake did.

“So, Y/N,” Amy started. “How did you and Rosa meet?”

Rosa jumped in before you forced yourself to say anything. “Hey,” she spat at the group crowding the table next to yours. “When I told Y/N she could meet me for lunch, I meant me. Not me and half the squad. Scram, losers.”

You gave a little half wave as they slunk out of the room, smiling a little as Charles mouthed off to you behind Rosa’s back: “We’ll catch up later!”

“Sorry,” Rosa said a few minutes later. “I know they can be a bit much.”

You shook your head and squeezed her hand, able to find your voice again. “It’s okay. They seem nice.”

“If by nice, you mean fucking crazy, then yes.”

A knock on the doorframe. At first, Rosa seemed annoyed by the interruption, but when she saw that it was Captain Holt she looked almost… proud?

“Captain,” she said, rising from her seat and nodding at him. She gestured toward you. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, Captain Holt.”

You moved to stand and shake his hand, but Holt stopped you. “Oh, no, please.” He sat down next to you, and Rosa seemed comfortable with him, so you decided that Captain Holt was someone you would like. “It’s lovely to meet you,” he said.

“You too,” you replied, trying not to let your voice shake too much. You tried to think of something to say, tried to think of a topic of conversation, but you were floundering. Your voice was hard for you on a regular day, even sometimes with people you loved, like Rosa. You just couldn’t manage to force anything out. You felt your cheeks growing red. You hoped you weren’t embarrassing Rosa.

You couldn’t have said all this to Rosa even if you’d wanted to, but Rosa always seemed to get it anyway.

“Y/N, Captain Holt and his husband are going to the symphony tonight. I told him that was one of your favorites, too.”

You lit up. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Rosa, you thought. You loved the symphony. She was right; it was one of your favorites. Despite Rosa’s general indifference toward classical music, she’d gotten you both season passes for your birthday. She didn’t love the music, but she loved the way your eyes shone when you listened, the way you perched on the edge of your seat like a child. She loved that when she held your hand during the performances, she could tell when you were particularly moved because you’d get goosebumps and the hair on your skin would stand up.

“Oh, it’s John William Weischselbraun tonight, right? Bach’s Oboe Sonata? That should be excellent!”

Holt looked about as excited as Rosa had ever seen him.

“You’re a fan of the oboe, are you?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, yes, sir.” You nodded enthusiastically. “I played oboe in my high school orchestra. It’s a severely underrated instrument.”

Rosa beamed at you as Holt reached out to shake your hand. “Diaz....” he said, shaking a finger at her. “She’s a keeper.”

“Yes, sir,” Rosa nodded.

He stared at her reproachfully. “I hope you take this fine lady to the symphony and not just to your rock concerts.”

“She does, sir,” you assured him. “We even have season passes.” And then you had what you thought was maybe one of your more brilliant ideas. “Maybe we could all go together, sometime? Me and Rosa and you and your husband?”

Rosa and Captain Holt stared at each other for a moment, and you were afraid you’d misread the situation terribly. You’d always thought that Rosa liked Captain Holt, at least from the way she talked about him. You thought they were friendly with one another. Maybe you’d been wrong.

You tried to backtrack. “Or maybe not,” you blurted. “Just a thought.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how quickly both Rosa and Captain Holt jumped to reassure you. So quickly that their voices overlapped.

“That’d be great, babe.”

“Now, doesn’t that sound nice?”

Gina rolled in front of the door to the break room. “Captain, you have a phone call,” she yelled out as her chair rolled by.

“Excuse me,” Holt said, standing. He stood, pressed his hand over yours and said, “Truly nice to meet you, Y/N. I look forward to our mutual date.”

When he’d gone, Rosa stared at you. She was smiling. Really smiling.

“What?” you asked, your face reddening.

She leaned forward and kissed you quickly, her hand gently grasping your chin.

“What was that for?”

She tucked your hair behind your ear. “You did really good today,” she whispered. “I know you were nervous. Thanks for lunch.”

You turned an even deeper shade of red. “Anytime. Or, well, sometimes.”

She smirked and kissed you one more time, pulling away quickly as Jake wolf-whistled from the doorway.

“Shut your mouth, Peralta, or I’ll shut it for you,” she growled.

It was always so funny to you to see Rosa with others. So rough, so intimidating. When she turned back to you, she was soft. She was always soft with you.

“I’ll see you tonight?” she asked, squeezing your hand.

You nodded, as you stood to leave, perching on tiptoes to kiss her on the cheek. Your voice had slipped back inside of you for the time being, so you simply squeezed her hand back and let her walk you out of the precinct.

As a werewolf, it was important for you to avoid anger and distress as much as possible. 

That’s why, following your encounter with Adora, Bow and Glimmer, you had decided on retreating to your room and relaxing in the best way you knew how: reading. It was just some book on Bright Moon’s history Glimmer had gave to you, but it took your mind off them.

It was always better for you (and the anger issues that came with you being a werewolf) to take your mind off something that you knew would bother you rather than let it gnaw at you until it drove you crazy. Besides, there wasn’t exactly anything more you could do. 

The trio had already apologised to you and gone to talk to Entrapta.

All you could do was wait.

You didn’t doubt that Entrapta would forgive them, nor did you doubt that they were sincerely sorry and feeling pretty guilty for leaving her with the Horde, even though they were convinced she hadn’t made it. Heck, you were her best friend and were convinced she hadn’t made it.

Still, you had fought tooth and nail for the others to let you go and try to rescue her, but Adora and Glimmer stopped you. They didn’t want to lose anyone else, especially when the odds would’ve been against you had they let you go. 

If all of you combined couldn’t do anything to save Entrapta, how could you save her alone? 

You were sure Entrapta would understand why they had left her behind, and you were sure she would forgive them.

It had been at least an hour since your conversation with Adora, Bow and Glimmer, but you hadn’t noticed the passage of time due to your investment in your book.

It took a knock at the door to pull you out of your concentration. Well, it wasn’t so much a knock as it was incessant banging. 

You jumped a little due to the sudden nature of the noise before your mind could adjust to what was going on.

“Y/N!” a familiar voice called, accompanying the knocking. “It’s me- Entrapta! Can I come in?”

“Huh?” you muttered, before fully snapping out of your trance and realising what was going on. 

You blinked a few times before turning your head towards the door.

“Oh, yeah, sure thing!” you called back.

With that, Entrapta opened the door and shut it behind her, walking in on her hair, legs crossed and hands in her lap. Her hair curved beneath her, as though she was finally fully seated.

“Did you talk to Adora, Bow and Glimmer?” you asked, sliding your bookmark into the book, shutting it and placing it on your lap. Your fingers drummed on the worn leather cover of it it as you looked up at the purple-haired girl.

“Yep!” she responded. “Actually, that’s kind of why I came to talk to you.” 

You furrowed your brows and cocked your head to the side just a little. “Did they say something to upset you?”

“Nope. Actually, they apologised for acting distant towards and not trusting me and said they’d do anything they could to make it up to me.” Entrapta answered.

 She paused for a moment, before her fairly content expression softened.  

“Anyway, I was passing by the room you were all in when you were talking. I heard what you said. I just wanted to thank you for standing up for me when I didn’t even ask you to. You’re a really good friend, Y/N.”

You smiled at her, still absentmindedly drumming on your book. 

“It’s no problem, Trapta.” you replied. ”You’re my best friend, and friends stand up for their friends, even when they’re not asked to.”

Entrapta beamed at you gratefully.

“I’m glad you’re back, Trapta.” you said, a soft sigh escaping your lips. “I really missed you when you were with the Horde, but you’re back now, and that’s all that matters.”

“I’m glad I’m back too, Y/N.” Entrapta responded.

RK900 had been working with you since he joined the precinct and Reed refused to work with him, and so he was partnered up with you, and within seconds immediately knew you were on the spectrum. He picked up quickly on your stims; you cracked your knuckles and wrists, you wore soft shirts purely to touch when stressed and rub your hand on. He understood that your brain was wired differently, and he quickly learnt you used this to your advantage with your work; you were effective, quick thinking and came up with theories that others would pass over. With Conan able to perform tests quickly and get a percentage of how likely your suggestions were, and also being quick thinking, you two combined were a force to be reckoned with. So when you were put onto a cold case as an attempt to get new leads, only to solve it in a week, needless to say everyone was impressed. It was even on the news. 

Fowler had asked you to be the one to give the speech to the press about your findings, and you’d asked Conan (you had given the name to him since RK900 didn’t really roll off the tongue) to stand with you since he was just as involved with it as you, and also to help you with the speech. You were nervous about it, worried to mess up, ramble, or release information you shouldn’t have. He helped you write it up, assuring you that you’d do fine, and now he stood beside you in front of the cameras and press, giving your speech. He’d had you read it aloud already, even to Anderson and his predecessor until you knew it almost perfectly to make you confident in your own words, and he looked ahead, an content smile on his face as you finished the speech, finishing with a thank you. There was a few questions at first, and you answered them as best you could, until people started to kick up a fuss when one person brought up the case’s possible link to other cases, cases you had no information on, and then there was questions about those cases, expecting you to solve them and already have answers. 

Conan saw your stress spike as voices raised, camera started going off more, and you became tense. Something Conan had realised about himself since working with you was that he was protective of you. Many people saw your autism as a disability, making you lesser than, and they treated you as so, or even like a child at times, even though almost all the time, you knew more than that person, and Conan hated it when people spoke down to you. He may have punched an older officer in the gut while exiting the elevator one day for saying horrible things about you. He also knew what you could handle, and what you couldn’t. You could handle interrogations, you could handle being shot at, you could handle the bodies, the gore, and the worst of the job...But being bombarded without a way to escape was definitely something you couldn’t handle, and it was during those times Conan stepped it and took it for you. This was one of those situations. 

He stepped forward to the podium. “We will be taking no more questions as we cannot answer them.” He stated calmly, putting an arm behind you and leading you away quickly out of the room and to the hallway, but he didn’t stop, knowing they’d find a way back and confront you here, and so he led you deeper into the building till you were in the elevator, pressing the button back to the offices. When the doors shut, he put his focus on you. Your hands were covering your face. You had been overwhelmed, and he calmly and carefully put his hands onto yours, gently lowering them. “It’s alright.” He assured you. 

“I… I messed up.” 

“I think you did spectacularly, Miss Y/N. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Would you like a hug?” He offered. While Conan wasn’t a physical person, the only times he ever made contact with anyone else was to fight them or swat them away, but with you he was a lot softer. He had done his research to ensure if you needed him, he was available, and in his searching he found that during times like these, you benefited from anything with a pattern, and regularity. Like a heartbeat. He may not have a heart, but his pump acted almost the same, even beating similarly, and even harder. It was easier to hear and feel against his chest, and he had practiced it with you after a case where the family of the suspect confronted you while Conan was walking you home. It was quick and effective. 

With a simple nod, you found yourself in Conan’s arms, your head in his chest, just listening to the pump beat. You closed your eyes, focussing on it, with a gentle hand on your head as well. Conan was silent, not wanting his voice to disrupt this therapeutic moment for you, making sure to breathe slowly but regularly, watching as your stress levels lowered quickly. He also felt your arms around his waist, keeping him close. 

By the time the doors opened on the floor, Conan was back to having his hand behind your back, leading you to your shared office space. “I’ll inform Fowler on the speech.” Conan offered. “I’ll also get you something warm to drink.” 

“Thanks… while you’re at it, can you ask about the cases they mentioned? If there is a link I’d like to look into it.” You told him. Conan smiled and nodded, returning the smile with a silent ‘thank you’ behind it before your android left to do his duties. 

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in! 

*Not my gif