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just a horny girl with a passion for writing

YES SCISSOR SISTERS UNITE

tags: humiliation, age gap, bondage, dirty talk, dumbification, boot-riding, mean!sevika

you didn’t even know how you ended up like this.

your wrists were tied high above your head with thick black rope, the knots biting into your skin. your ankles were spread wide apart, bound to separate floor hooks in a humiliating open v, leaving you completely exposed.

you were so fucking small beneath her. your legs were forced open to bare every inch of your cunt, puffy and glistening from the constant edging. your labia were slick and swollen, parted so the delicate inner folds peeked through, slick dripping down in thin strings to your ass. your clit was hard, practically begging for pressure.

sevika looked down at you with a grin that could slice concrete. her short hair hair fell loose, thick arms crossing as she surveyed your bound and defenseless body.

“fucking look at you,” she growled, voice heavy with amusement. “spread open like a whore and waiting for me to ruin you.”

your cheeks burned, tears welling in your lashes, the shame hot and devastating.

“i should take a picture of this,” sevika taunted slowly, tapping the toe of her boot right against your open, slick slit. “show you what you look like when you try to play grown-up against me.”

you gasped as the cool leather pressed against your clit, just a nudge, but enough to make your hips buck instinctively, tugging against the ropes. sevika chuckled at your pathetic little jerk and grinded the toe of the boot up harder until the seam caught right on your clit, dragging the nub side to side.

“aww, poor baby. all tied up and squirmy? what, you thought you’d talk shit to me, huh?” she cooed in that condescending tone, “thought you’d challenge a grown fucking woman and not get put right back in your place?”

she lifted her boot a fraction, then slammed it down again. not enough to hurt but enough to smack your puffy lips and squish them wide so your inner folds seperated. your entire slit was on display, glistening, wet, quivering. the pressure made you mewl, your thighs trying to close but the ropes holding you open, humiliatingly so.

“look at this cute little pussy,” sevika spat. “pink as fuck, twitching like a rabbit. god, you’re such a soft thing. bet you’ve never even been worked over properly before me, huh? bet no one’s ever made you this fucking messy.”

you whimpered. she wasn’t wrong.

your clit was fat and painfully swollen, your labia flushed dark pink, your hole flexing and dripping slick every time the boot dragged across it. the leather was rough, just a hint of grain, enough to catch every nerve ending and burn them in the best way. she leaned down, big hands on her thighs, studying the mess between your legs like a war prize.

“how’s it feel, baby?” she sneered, grinding the toe of her boot against your clit with a sharp twist. “being my girl and still getting treated like a fucking dumb slut who can’t keep her legs closed?” “nnh—ah—sevika, please—” “please what? huh?”

she pressed harder, the hard curve of the boot grinding straight over your pulsing bud, your hips arching up despite the ropes. the friction was filthy, it pushed your juices all over the black leather, slick squishing under the pressure.

“say it. say you’re a dumb girl who needs me to break you.” “i—I’m a dumb girl,” you choked out, tears dripping down your temples, “sevika, please—” “needs who?” “needs you—” “damn right.”

sevika shoved the toe of the boot between your folds so roughly your entrance gave, your hole parting around the pressure as if you might actually take the whole boot if she made you. it was filthy. indecent. your entire pussy spread around the polished toe, juices streaking the leather, clit so battered it felt close to bursting.

“look at this." her voice was thick with possessive rage. “all this mouth, all these tantrums, and look where you end up. tied up, spread out, riding my fuckin’ boot like a cheap street bitch.”

she began to rock her foot slowly, grinding your entire sensitive pussy against the leather again and again until you were sobbing from the friction. the ridges of the boot seams caught every nerve, your clit so raw you couldn’t stop twitching, your walls clenching uselessly on nothing.

“this pretty pink cunt so soft it can’t even take a slap without weeping,” sevika mocked, pulling her boot back, letting it slam again into your mound so it smacked a splash of slick against your inner thighs. “god, i fucking love watching you squirm.”

you tried to twist away, crying from the raw overstimulation, but the ropes held you tight. sevika’s eyes went dark when she saw your hips jutting up.

“ohh you’re gonna cum,” she growled. “right here, on my boot. and then i’m gonna leave you tied up ‘til you beg for more.”

she dragged the boot in one slow, agonizing stroke up the entire length of your slit, grinding your clit so hard your vision popped with white stars...

“go on, baby. cum like the stupid little girl you are.”

your orgasm ripped through you so violently you almost blacked out, your thighs spasming against the ropes, your clit throbbing like it was on fire, gush after gush of slick soaking the toe of sevika’s boot. your body convulsed, too raw to even scream, your voice catching in a broken, messy sob.

“good girl,” sevika purred, twisting her boot one more time over your destroyed clit. “that’s where you fuckin’ belong.”

😻🙏

I NEED PART FIVE OF THE SEVIKA PRINCESS THING IT WAS BOMMBB!!!!!!

Maybe some strap stuff???? (Who said that?)

TYSMMM but WHO IS THIS 😭 like 3 ppl know about this account so im stressing out trying to figure out who AHHHH

“he’s not here,” jinx says, kicking the office door shut behind her. “so get your pretty ass on the desk.”

you blink at her, mouth already dry. you know whose desk this is. the papers, the cigars, the high-backed chair. this is Silco’s office. Silco’s desk. “jinx—” you whisper, clutching your skirt, heart pounding. “what if he comes back—” “then we’ll give him a show.”

she says it while already crossing the room, already grinning, already tugging her gloves off with her teeth and tossing her gun onto a stack of important-looking documents. “c’mon, bunny. you said you missed my mouth. i’m tryna fix that. unless you wanna go another night crying into your pillow like a lonely little freak?”

fuck. it should be stupid, should be reckless. you shouldn't let her bend you over the nearest surface like a common whore with a wet hole, but your thighs are already clenching. you clamber up onto the desk with shaking legs, sitting on the edge with your knees together and your hands white-knuckled in your lap. jinx cocks her head. “uh-uh. skirt up, panties off. don’t make me beg, sweetheart.”

you obey. trembling fingers push your skirt up, revealing your soft, plush thighs and the absolutely ruined pair of panties beneath. jinx lets out a low whistle when you peel them off, dragging the soaked fabric down and exposing your dewy cunt. “goddamn. you’re just dripping for me already?” she steps between your knees, palms sliding up your thighs like she’s starving for it. “look at this mess.”

your pussy is fat and soft, pink and slick, folds glistening with wet arousal that sticks to her fingers when she spreads you open. your clit’s puffy and already twitching, so needy it practically begs her to suck it. jinx’s pupils blow wide. “ohhhh, baby,” she grins. “you were made for me.”

and then without another word, she drops to her knees in front of the desk, lifts your legs onto her shoulders, and devours you.

her mouth attacks your cunt. no warm-up or no easing in. just tongue and lips and suction, filthy and perfect. she slurps, spits, licks deep, moaning while her tongue flicks up your slit and circles your clit. “mpmh-so sweet,” she mumbles into your pussy, nuzzling closer. “gonna rot my teeth.”

you’re already panting, fists curled in the edge of the desk, desperately trying not to rock your hips. “j-jinx—wait—” “why?” she pulls back, eyes bright. her chin is soaked, lips glistening with your slick. “you scared, bunny?” you nod, whining.

“good,” she grins. “makes your pussy taste even better.”

her tongue dives back in, dragging long, slow strokes through your folds while her fingers part them and hold you open, spreading you like something precious and obscene. your clit is throbby and swollen, twitching under the attention, and when she wraps her lips around it and sucks. your whole body jolts.

“nghh—nnn—someone’s gonna hear—” “then they’ll hear what a slut you are for my mouth.”

she spits on your clit and rubs it in with her tongue. two fingers slide into your plush, soaked pussy, curling up, and your eyes roll back as she starts fucking you in rhythm with the slurps of her mouth. “i can feel it,” she pants. “this fat little cunt’s gonna squirt, huh? you gonna make a big mess on silco’s desk?” you sob. “say it. say you’re gonna squirt.” “i—i’m gonna squirt—” “hell yeah.”

and then she sucks your clit again, fingers curling right against that spot and you shatter. your thighs close around her head, your voice breaks, and your pussy gushes hard, soaking her mouth, the desk, and everything. jinx fucking laughs through it. she keeps licking and licking through your squirting cunt like it’s the last water on earth. “that’s it,. make it drip. flood this desk, drown me in it, toots.” finally, she pulls back and climbs onto the desk with you. “face-sit me,” she pants, flopping back against the paperwork. “c’mon. use my face like it owes you money.”

vi's got two fingers knuckle-deep and your back arched so pretty off the bed, thighs shaking where she’s got them spread wide over her lap. she’s still in her sports bra thats grey and sweat-dark from her run, a smug smirk on her lips as she watches you grind down on her hand like it’s not nearly enough.

"aww, look at that. all mouth when i walked in, now you’re making a mess on my fucking palm," she coos, kissing your knee as she curls her fingers just right, slow and deep. "i should let you ride my hand more often if it shuts you up this nice."

your jaw slackens as you throw your head back, fighting the whimper crawling up your throat.

“shut—shut up, vi—” "mm-mm. you wanted control, right?" her thumb drags up, barely brushing your clit, just to watch you jolt. " her grin turns lazy and wolfish. "so go on, boss. take what you want."

her fingers stay buried, still deep enough that you can feel her knuckles, slow curling dragging over that soft spongy spot inside you again and again like she’s already memorized it. you try to move your hips to ride her hand. she lets you, but every now and then she shifts, catches your clit with her palm just enough to make you whine and bite your lip hard enough to bruise.

"someone's getting loud," she murmurs, lips on your thigh now, soft and hot. "maybe i should shut you up. not with my mouth though."

her pupils are blown when she glances up, voice low and cocky.

tags: sexual tension, corruption, age gap, kissing, size k!nk, forbidden trope, dirty talk, rubbing, grinding, orgasm pt. 3

it happens more often now.

you don’t mean to start it, not exactly. but you’ve learned that if you pout long enough… if you crawl onto her lap in that silk robe that slides right off your shoulders, if you say please the breathy way she likes it, her restraint doesn’t last long.

so now it’s a habit. your secret little sin, hidden behind thick velvet curtains and heavy locked doors.

you're in her lap, mouth pressed to hers as your soft thighs spread over her broad legs like a thing meant to be there. her arms are steady and looped around your waist, one hand always at the back of your neck, guiding and controlling.

her lips are rougher than yours. her mouth bigger. hotter. when she kisses you, she devoursss you. you’re addicted to the way her tongue swipes over yours, the way her teeth graze your bottom lip. the way her breath sounds when you whimper against her and she pulls you in harder like she’s losing patience with how much she wants to ruin you.

your skin is soft. you’ve always been told that it was silken and perfumed. even now, you’re dressed for temptation, whether you understand it or not, a thin ivory lace robe tied at the waist, your thighs bare, your lips dewy from balm and too much kissing.

sevika is massive. you think about it constantly, how your body fits into hers like a secret. how she handles you like you’re glass but couldn’t break you if she tried. how her arms are corded with muscle, one of them scarred and veined and brutal, the other forged from dark metal, humming faintly where it presses against your waist.

her thighs are huge. her hand spans the entire side of your ribs. when she holds your jaw in one palm, she tilts it just the way she wants. you’re helpless to it. willingly.

right now you’re on her lap, straddling her waist as your knees dig into the cushion beside her hips. your mouth messy against hers. you’ve been kissing for ages.

her hand cups the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair.

you whimper into her mouth again and again.

“vika…” you breathe, hot against her lips. “sevika, it’s— it’s not going away…”

she pulls back just barely, her eye lidded and mouth slick from yours. “…what’s not going away?”

you look wrecked. flushed and kiss-dazed, your lips red, your chest rising and falling fast.

you whimper again. shift your hips slightly over her lap, trying to relieve it, but it just makes the ache sharper.

“the ache,” you whisper. “down there. i feel so hot and weird, and i don’t know what to do about it—”

sevika groans low in her throat. her fingers curl tighter into your hips.

“fuck, princess,” she mutters. “you’re wet, aren’t you?”

you blink, dazed. “wet…?”

she drags her good hand down your waist, over your hips, until her fingertips brush the inside of your thigh featherlight.

“here,” she murmurs. “you’ve been grinding on my thigh for ten minutes. you feel how hot it is?”

you nod, face burning.

“that’s wetness, baby. that’s your cunt begging for attention.”

you mewl. quietly. your lashes flutter and your thighs twitch inward. “can you make it stop?” you whisper. “please, sevika… it’s so much…”

her mouth is back on yours in an instant. slower now, deeper. her tongue slips past your lips and you moan around it, helpless, thighs clenching as her hand slides up to your waist again. she kisses you like she wants to eat your voice. when you whimper again, her mouth curls into a smile against yours.

“i’ll help you, sweetheart,” she says, voice rough, sinful. “i’ll teach you how to make it go away.”

"please, i want youu."

“that’s my girl,” sevika murmurs against your mouth, one hand heavy at the back of your neck as the other dragging slowly over your side, her palm broad and calloused. heat spreads wherever she touches. “gonna let me take care of you, huh?”

you nod eagerly, forehead pressed to hers. her flesh hand slips down to the knot in your robe. her metal one stays where it is, warm and grounding at your nape to keep you in place.

you shiver. your thighs are twitching over her lap. your cunt is throbbing, the ache deeper than ever now that you know what’s causing it, and now that you can feel it, slick and sticky between your legs.

“i need it,” you whisper. “please, please…”

her hand is already pulling the robe open, slow and possessive. it slips from your shoulders, and you’re left in just your lace panties, thin and already damp, your nipples hard and flushed from all the kissing. you were drenched.

the soft cotton clung to you like it was painted on, already damp with arousal. your pussy lips were plush and full, straining against the fabric, and she could see the little dip of your entrance outlined through the wet.

sevika groans.

"fuck. look at you." her voice is low and reverent but filthy all the same. “you don’t even know how much i wanna ruin you, do you?”

you blink down at her, glassy-eyed. “but i thought you said you’d make it better…”

she laughs softly and her hand slides down between your legs, knuckles grazing your inner thigh before her fingers press right there, over the heat of your lace-covered cunt.

“sweetheart, this is how i make it better.”

you jump, a soft mewl falling from your mouth as she presses her fingers in, slow and deliberate, through the thin fabric. the pressure makes your head fall back and your hips twitch forward.

"o-oh!"

she’s touching it. not inside, but you can feel everything. the weight of her fingers. the heat of her palm. the way she grinds the heel of her hand into your clit just enough to make you gasp. the wet cotton made every movement feel slippery and filthy, and she watched you squirm, hips rising to meet her hand without realizing it.

“mmmn—s-sevika…”

“shhh. be a good princess, let me feel you.”

her jaw is clenched and her eye is locked on your face as her fingers start to rub small circles, slow at first, though the fabric's already soaked straight through.

you whimper, arms clinging around her neck.

“that’s it, baby,” she murmurs, nuzzling under your ear. “keep makin’ those pretty little noises. you’re throbbing already, aren’t you?”

“i—I think so—feels so warm—”

“that’s your cunt saying thank you,” she groans, voice thick with lust. “you needed this bad, huh? needed someone to rub your messy tight pussy until it stops crying?”

you wail into her shoulder, thighs clenching around her hand.

she moves faster.

still over the lace, but more deliberate now. her fingers are precise, grinding into your clit through the wet spot like she knows exactly what your body needs. and she does. she can feel it in the way you twitch. the way your hips start rocking helplessly. the way your head keeps falling against her shoulder with breathy little sobs of relief.

“you’re fucking humping my hand,” she laughs, voice hot against your temple. “you feel that?”

you barely manage a nod. the shame only makes it hotter.

“feels good, right? getting this soft pussy rubbed by your guard? sitting in my lap like a spoiled little brat, grinding on my fingers like you were made for this?”

“yes—yes—” your voice is cracked, high, desperate. “please don’t stop—”

“not gonna,” she pants, dragging her mouth down your jaw, your neck, biting the edge of your shoulder. “gonna keep rubbing this dumb cunt til you come all over my fucking hand.”

it dosen't take long. your body locks up, thighs shaking, mouth slack as your hips jolt forward and your whole cunt throbs around the pressure of her palm. you whimper her name. again and again. sevika just holds you there, one hand grinding soft circles over your clit while the other strokes up your back, steady and strong.

“that's my girl,” she murmurs against your throat. “that’s my pretty fucking princess.”

tags: sexual tension, mild corruption, age gap, kissing pt. 2

your window’s been nailed shut. the incident at the gates was the last straw. you didn't mean any harm, you just wanted to see what the forests look like at dawn.

still. your father nearly fainted when the guards found you scaling the garden wall barefoot. now you're not only under lockdown, you're under constant surveillance. which means... sevika’s been ordered to sleep in your room.

not down the hall. not outside. in your chambers.

her cot is in the corner now, untouched, because she refuses to lie down while you're still awake. she just leans against the stone walll with her arms crossed, thick shoulders shadowed in moonlight, and you feel her watching even when she pretends she’s not.

it’s maddening. you’ve never had to sit with this feeling before. the fluttery kind. the dizzy thing. how warm you get when she walks too close, or how your thoughts go sticky and clumsy and full of her voice when you’re meant to be reading.

you’re curled in your nightgown at the edge of your bed, legs tucked under. and she’s right there, half a room away and still impossibly untouchable.

so you speak before you can talk yourself out of it.

“…sevika?”

her head lifts slightly. she doesn’t glance at you, but she hums. low in her throat. that little growl of attention.

you tuck your knees under your robe and bite your lip.

“…do you remember when you told me what a kiss really is?”

she takes a moment to answer, head tilts slightly as her eyes now fix on the dagger in her hand.

“forgot it already?” she mutters dryly. her jaw tenses.

you shake your head fast. “no, i remember. all of it.” you smile a little. it’s shy.

“...what does it feel like?” her brow furrows. “it depends.”

“on what?”

"who it’s with.”

“…i still don’t really get it,” you murmur, eyes locked on the edge of your robe. “you said people do it when they like each other. when they want to feel good. but… how?”

her silence is heavy this time. not her usual disinterest, but it’s tense and careful. like she’s choosing her next words very, very slowly.

“it’s just a mouth,” you say after a moment. “how can a mouth feel that good?”

she doesn’t look at you when she answers.

“because it’s not just a mouth,” she says. “it’s how you use it.”

you shift on the chaise, pull the blanket tighter. and your next words come out before you can second guess them.

"can you show me?”

her head snaps up. you see the flicker in her eye, alarm, disbelief, something else that stabs and lingers. she straightens.

“princess, don’t.”

“why not?”

“princess.”

you flinch at the tone. low and warning.

“that’s not something you learn,” she says. “it’s something you do when you’re ready.”

“…i am.”

her jaw tightens. “you don’t even know what being ready means.”

you shift, sit up on your knees, inch toward the end of the bed.

“i want to try,” you whisper. “just… a little one.”

her head tilts. “a little one.”

you nod, heart hammering. “i won’t tell anyone.”

she laughs once, sharp. bitter. like a warning bell.

“it’s not about that. your father would have me hanged, sweetheart. strung up in front of the barracks.”

you shake your head quickly, crawling a little closer. “i wouldn’t let that happen. no one will find out, and if they do, i’d lie. i’d cry. i’d swear it was my idea.”

her jaw tightens. she looks like she’s fighting something heavy inside her chest.

“you’re a royal. i’m your guard. if anyone even hears what you’re saying—”

“but you’re not saying you don’t want to.”

that shuts her up.

you let the silence sit between you like spilled ink. then, quieter, “i just want to know what it feels like. and i trust you. i always trust you.”

and there it is. the unravel. her shoulders drop slightly. her hand flexes against her belt.

“come here,” she says finally. it sounds like surrender.

you rise, bare feet touching the cold floor. your nightgown clings to your thighs as you pad across the room, candlelight trembling as you move. you stop in front of her close enough to feel her body heat. close enough to feel small.

“look at me,” she says.

you do. eyes big and nervous, brimming with something you don’t yet understand but ache to. her fingers come up slowly. two rough knuckles under your chin, lifting your face gently. her touch is warm. she studies your face like she’s memorizing the moment.

“you sure?” she murmurs

you nod. “mhm.”

“say it.”

“i want to kiss you,” you whisper. “please.”

her lips brush yours. barely there, they ghost over your lips like a feather. your eyes flutter shut before you can think.

the second touch is firmer. more sure. her mouth is warm, a little dry, tasting faintly of clove and mint. she tilts her head, coaxing you softly, lips moving over yours in a rhythm that makes your knees wobble.

it doesn’t feel like what you expected. it feels deeper, wetter. it’s not just the press, it’s the slide and the pull of her lips. the little growl in her throat when you whimper by accident.

you gasp softly. your hands reach for her without thinking, one clutching the edge of her shirt, the other pressing to her chest.

she pulls back, barely, lips brushing yours when she speaks.

“you okay?”

you nod fast and breathless. “i feel like i’m… floating.”

her smirk is soft this time. her hand cups your jaw. “that’s what it’s supposed to feel like.”

you’re still leaning forward, lips parted, like your body knows what it wants before your brain can name it.

but sevika draws back just a little. just enough to look you over. to breathe.

“that’s enough,” she says, low and hoarse.

you nod again, even though your body wants more. your lips tingle. your thighs ache. your heart’s fluttering too fast to settle.

you’re not sure what changed. but you know now that you want her to do that again. and again and again.

next time, you won’t stop at a kiss.

next part

❀ sevika who meets you at the last drop, where you’re a quiet little regular in the corner booth with the same drink every time, your headphones around your neck and your eyes flitting nervously to the flickering lights whenever they buzz too loud. you come in at off-peak hours always with a book or a sketchpad. you tip well and don’t say much. she notices you anyway.

❀ sevika who only finds out your name ’cause jinx calls it across the bar one night, chaotic and grinning. “look who’s here! sugarcube came outta their cave!” you shrink a little, shoulders hitching, and sevika’s brows lift.

❀ sevika who sees you flinch and watches how your fingers go tap-tap-tap on the rim of your glass. how your mouth opens like you wanna say something but you can’t push it past your lips. how your whole vibe screams please stop looking at me. she clocks that. tucks it away.

❀ sevika who doesn’t make a big show of approaching you. she starts sitting a little closer each visit. a stool over. then one seat away. then the same booth, but facing the other way, letting you feel her presence before she says anything. she lets you lead. you notice that. you feel safe with that.

❀ sevika who finally speaks to you with a simple: “you draw?” one night, jerking her chin toward your sketchpad. her voice is low and rough like she’s got gravel for vocal cords. you nod. show her the corner of a drawing that was half-finished, hyperdetailed, full of scratchy shading. and she huffs a little, impressed. “not bad,” she mutters. “got a good eye.”

❀ sevika who slowly, slowly becomes your comfort person. who learns the things you don’t always say out loud. like how you can’t stand surprise touches, so she starts holding her hand out in silent offer, knuckles up, waiting for you to close the gap. like how you stim when overwhelmed, so she keeps an extra stim ring in her jacket pocket just in case you forget yours. like how you go nonverbal when overstimulated, so she learns to speak less, gesture more, and always keeps a pen on her so you can write if you need to.

❀ sevika who’s blunt, sarcastic, and big as hell. but never careless with you. she’s gentle in her own way. quiet hands. slow movements. she’ll step between you and a crowd if the bar gets too loud, just a silent, solid wall at your back to anchor you. sometimes she’ll lean in and murmur “want outta here?” and that’s it. one nod and you’re gone, her hand on your back like a shield.

❀ sevika who learns your patterns. what foods you’ll always eat, how textures affect your clothes, how your body tenses before a meltdown. she’s not the best at comforting with words, but she’ll put a blanket over your shoulders and sit with you through the storm. let you scream or cry or shut down in total silence. she never rushes you or makes you explain yourself. just lights a cigarette and waits it out with you. “take your time, baby. im not goingg anywhere.”

❀ sevika who calls you nicknames like ‘sweet thing,’ ‘honey,’ or ‘sugar,’ but also stupidly soft ones that are private and gentle and only for when it’s just you and her. “my soft thing.” “mellow mouse.” “quiet flame.” she says them in a low voice, thumb brushing your knuckles, like they’re secrets she’s lucky to know.

❀ sevika who listens when you info dump. in fact, she asks for it. “tell me more,” she’ll grumble, chin in her hand while you talk about the history of an obscure mushroom species or a cartoon you hyperfixated on at age ten. she doesn’t always understand it, but she loves how your voice gets brighter, how your body comes alive with it. sometimes she asks dumb questions just to hear you go on. “wait, so you’re telling me bees can’t even..what the fuck. say that again.”

❀ sevika who holds you so, so gently when you need deep pressure. lets you lie on her chest like a weighted blanket. her arm tucked around you, big palm splayed over your hip. you hum against her heartbeat. it’s her scent, her steadiness, and her sheer mass. it settles something in you. always has. you feel safe in her ribs and seen in her arms.

❀ sevika who never once calls you “too much” or “difficult” or “weird.” not when you need to wear headphones around crowds, not when you stim too loud, not when you have to leave a place because of a texture or sound.

❀ sevika who sees every “weird” part of you like it’s sacred. your needs, your habits, your comfort shows, your collection of useless little facts. she never flinches. never makes you mask. just grabs your hand and tells you straight:

“you don’t gotta change a thing for me. i like you just the way you are, quiet flame. always will.”

THANK YOU GUYS SMMMM FOR 1K FOLLOWERS and 25K LIKES ❤️❤️

holy shit I can’t believe I only started my account like a month ago (and have been very inconsistent) im so grateful for all the support 🥹

as a gift I will be writing every single thing requested under this comment section and every request I get for the next 2 days (I hope I don’t regret this 😭) SO COMMENT AWAY