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littlemissomega
Just Keep Stimming
Peter Parker x autistic!reader
Summary: Peter gets home and finds you in an autistic meltdown
Warnings: meltdown (what I PERSONALLY would consider milder ish), stimming, brief hitting stim, overstimulation (not the good type the 'tism type)
A/N: I am autistic, but autism is a large spectrum. Every autistic person has different symptoms, stims, etc. Meltdowns look different for every autistic person, and can look different situationally.
Words: 756
GIF by forevermorewitch
Peter fiddling with the keys to the apartment, struggling to unlock the door when his arms full.
"Hey babe! Sorry I'm late, training went long! But I picked up Chinese!" Peter calls, kicking the door shut behind him and setting the bars of takeout down on the kitchen table.
No response. That's odd, you're usually doing homework at the table or reading on the couch when he gets home. He hears a faint creaking from the bedroom.
"Baby, you in here?" peter asks, pushing the door open.
You're sitting on the bed, sitting with your legs crossed and back to him, with your noise canceling headphones on. Peter leans against the doorframe, watching as you rock back and forth on the bed. You're rotating between flapping them in the air at your side and using to rock harder on the bed. You have a pillow in front of you for went you rock forward.
Peter considers if he should try to get your attention. He knows something's you just need to stim like this after a long day. Peter doesn't have autism like you, but with his high end senses, he definitely understands how overstimulating the outside world can be and often stims along with you at home.
This connection had made your relationship extra sweet. The nights you spent curled up together, stimming and info dumping about your mutual special interest are some of Peter's favorites.
Peter's body stiffens as you make a distressed sound and start hitting the side of your head. He's behind you on the bed in a flash, holding your arms away from your head not not restricting your rocking.
"Noooo," you whine, flapping your hands in his strong gasps.
Peters nudges one side of your headphones what so you can hear him.
"I know, angel, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Peter soothes, "Squeeze my hands, luvie. Hard as you can,"
Peter settles in behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder and wrapping him arms around you so your arms are crossed on your chest. He uses his strength to provide the deep pressure that you need to regulate, squeezing you. He starts rocking back and forth with you, supporting you need to stim while keeping you from hurting yourself.
You start hum and squeeze his hands tightly. Your nails dig into his palm, but he doesn't care. He just holds you as you continue rock back and forth on the bed.
Peter realizes you're humming the tune to "Just Keep Swimming" over and over again. In the last, you shared that you often did this during meltdowns, replacing "swimming" with "stimming" in your head to help regulate youself.
Once you stop squeezing his hands, he releases your. You start flapping your hands again as he moves one arm diagonal across your chest to you shoulder, and the other around your waist so he can give you more spread out pressure.
Peter watches carefully as your stimming looses it's distressed edge and shifts to little nervous stims. Your hummings gets softer until it fizzles out.
"You're home," you finally croak.
"Hi babygirl," Peter smiles, pecking your neck, "You wanna talk about it?"
You're quiet for a moment, your rocking slowing to a stop. You turn around in his arms, wrapping your arms and legs around him and clinging to him like a koala.
"Not yet. Keep going,"
Peter nuzzles his cheek against your head, moving one hands up to cup the back of your head as he starts rocking again for the both of you.
After a while, your vice grip on him loosens and you pull away. You pull off your headphones and let them fall around your neck.
"Baby, I'm sorry I grabbed your hands like that. I just didn't want you to hurt yourself," Peter whispers, cupping your cheek.
"it's okay, I'm sorry, I-"
"Don't apologize. Never apologize for your sensory needs,"
Your heart melts at his words.
"I had to ride the subway home today. It was so loud and people-y and my shoes got sticky on the floor and I got home and my whole body was itchy and I...yeah. you saw,"
"I understand, baby. The subway is so overstimulating. You wanna brainstorm alternatives to it and ways we could make it easier for you over dinner?"
You nods earnestly, leaning forward and kissing Peter before climbing off the bed.
The two of you enjoy the best cold Chinese food you've ever had, hand in hand, with no judgment and full understanding for each other.