⟢ "I did something." - "Scale of one to ten." - "Depends who's asking." "Me." - "Seven." - "Police." - "Four." - "God." - "Thirteen."
⟢ "We need to leave."- "Why." - "I'll explain in the car." - "Why." - "I'll explain in a different country."
⟢ "This is your fault." - "You literally came up with the idea." - "I have bad ideas all the time, you're not supposed to DO them."
⟢ "Okay hear me out." - "My lawyer has advised me not to hear you out." - "You don't have a lawyer." - "I'm getting one specifically for conversations with you."
⟢ "Nobody got hurt." - "Physically." . "Nobody got physically hurt." - "Yet." - "Nobody has gotten physically hurt yet, which is a win."
⟢ "I have a type." - "Yeah?" - "People who are bad for me and you specifically." - "That's not a type that's a pattern." - "Same thing."
⟢ "What's the worst that could happen." - "I have a list. It's laminated. I made it specifically for when you say that."
⟢ "Rate my decision making." - "Historically or right now." - "Both." - "Zero. Consistent zero across the board."
⟢ "You're the only person I trust." - "I dropped your birthday cake last year and told you it arrived like that." - "Yeah but you still got me a cake."
⟢ "I need your honest opinion." - "It's bad." - "You didn't see it yet." - "I've met you. It's bad."
⟢ "Why do you even keep me around." - "Honestly? Entertainment. And you're warm in winter."
⟢ "I wasn't thinking." - "First time for everything." - "I resent that." - "Statistically valid though."
⟢ "On a scale of fine to not fine." - "Remember that time in Prague." - "We don't talk about Prague." - "That fine."
⟢ "Nobody panic but." - "I'm already panicking." - "I haven't said anything yet." - "I know you. I'm getting ahead of it."
⟢ "Promise you won't be mad." - "Absolutely not, that's a trap and I won't fall for it."
⟢ "I have good news and bad news." - "Good news first." - "The car is fine." - "And the bad." - "Define car."
⟢ "You're my emergency contact." - "I know." - "You're listed as my next of kin." - "I know." - "You're also listed as my therapist, my lawyer, and my spiritual advisor." - "I know." - "Do you want to talk about that." - "Nope." - "Cool."
⟢ "I'm a responsible adult."- "You once called me crying because you got your sleeve caught in a door and didn't know what to do." - "I was panicking." - "For forty minutes." - "It was really stuck."
⟢ "I regret everything." - "No you don't." - "No I don't but I feel like I should." - "Same honestly."
Synopsis: The littlest things sent your sensitive brain into orbit, and having selective mutism while being autistic wasn’t a good mix when your placidness back-pedalled into sudden anxiety that left your body frozen. However, at times like these, your body melts when Sevika is there to remind you that it isn’t the end of the world when something minuscule changes in your routine.
Cw: autistic!female!reader with selective mutism x Sevika, meltdowns, fluff, p.s the reality that little things can affect some widely, subtle hyper fixation on bus, short but sweet 🥹
Wc: 1.1k
The bus had changed.
Something as minuscule as that sends your body working overtime in trying to figure out what to do.
You were used to the polished, innovative bus that stopped just at the right angle you stood awkwardly at, where in a routinic, almost obsessive manner, you’d step on and claim the seat you viewed as yours.
But what presented itself to you right now wasn’t anything short of absurd. The front of the bus, caked with dust and clear neglect from cleanliness; the usual colour washed out with an ugly azure, a mirror to your skin that was paling at the mere sight of it.
Your body was perplexed; your mind, tripping like a live wire as you stumbled backwards to make room for others getting onto the bus.
That constant string of anxiety that was usually a hum in the backdrop of your mind had forefronted into your entire nervous system, causing jagged breaths to exit you as distraught swallowed you whole.
You tried to get on—tried to overcome the embarrassment swelling from the imbroglio of your situation, but eyes had shackled you to the spot—wide, curious, judgmental gazes that felt like every fibre of your body was being stripped in exposure.
Feeling exposed was one of the worst things you could have felt.
Especially in a world of impurities where only your difference was a stamp of burning hot shame.
It was you who had missed the instruction manual of how to act when you were born—yet everybody else received one in spite of you. No matter how you tilted your head like them, or stared blankly into their eyes with an uncomfortable burning point, they always noticed something was off.
Yet you wanted to strive forward—force your mind to believe you were capable, let your legs think before your mind could numb the act, but your heart felt torn from the change, an unfamiliar hoax that left your nerves wringing taut against each other.
´ཀ`
The door churned under pressure, ridges reluctantly giving into a hard push that felt too frantic to be normal. The radio cracked alive throughout the house, dull and not without an archaic glitch that felt almost nostalgic.
Sevika twisted her head sharply towards the hallway, seeing your dishevelled figure bursting through the frame with heavy, ragged breaths making room in the air.
She shifted her position from the crouched stance she was pulled into, already walking your way with concern blossoming her irises the same way flush blossomed your skin.
“What are you doing back so soon?”
The question reverberated from wall to wall, expecting an answer that just wouldn’t formulate in the bases of your throat no matter how many times your lips parted to speak.
It was like the stress had nestled itself deep within you, any sense of words forming on the base of your tongue dissolved, unable to manifest into reality.
Sevika could see the struggle.
She saw it many times when things hoarded over you like a swarm of bees. Relentless. Arduous. Difficult. She was aware your autism made the littlest changes an onerous task for you to adapt to, and with the way your mouth trembled without a sentence being spoken, she knew it was one of those days.
“Something happened, sweetheart?” She followed your figure into the living room, eyes assessing every dip and curve on your skin, almost as if making a risk assessment in her head.
You dipped your head shamefully, limbs sinking into the sofa as if wanting to mold into it as one. That was an answer of its own. You felt embarrassed; a forever twisting knot that reminded you a mask was still a facade covered in synthetic countenances.
You wanted to feel liberty; wanted to feel as if your brain wasn’t a biological capsule holding you back in life while others thrived forward.
You needed a grounding force in a world that was unstable, and naturally, Sevika became the crutch to that.
“Gone quiet again, huh?” She didn’t expect an answer back. She never made you feel forced to, anyways. But the way she kneeled down in front of you, hands cupping the same face that was trying to avoid her from the chagrin of your emotions swelling beneath you, Sevika wouldn’t let you hide from her, either.
You tapped your finger once against your thigh, mouth parting while your mind tried to find the urge to gather words, almost tasting them at the tip of your tongue before the anxiety swallowed them whole again.
She could see the frustration making harsh lines in your face—the tension aching your jaw into grinding. It always made Sevika’s toughened heart ease just a bit.
“Don’t force it, love.” Her thumb swiped over your bottom lip, grey eyes dashing up to the exhaustion marking your face. “You wanna save those pretty lips for later, don’t you?”
Despite the stress gnawing at you like mold splayed out across your body, a reluctant smile twitched upwards on the curl of your lips. You shook your head, rolling your eyes despite it all, in between the constant bounce of your leg and picking of your finger.
Sevika smirked, eyes lighting up at the smile she managed to pull out of you.
She pushed herself off her knees, moving next to you as the sofa sunk beneath her pulling weight. Her arm slinked around you, settling on the edge of your waist that felt cool from the metallic brush of her prosthetic arm.
Despite the coldness of her arm—it felt like a breath of fresh air being coaxed back into your lungs—the first breath after being submerged in the depths of an ocean. You managed to let a withered sigh escape you, leg still bouncing against the floor as you tried to stifle it.
But sevika didn’t allow it. In all your rawness, seeing you like this was an extension of yourself she wasn’t willing to let become shameful for you. She almost felt her heart tug that you allowed her to see this version of yourself—the autism you tried so hard to mask from others, becoming a fundamental suppressed part of yourself that was still undeniably you.
“Sweetheart, it’s okay.” You glanced up at her hand slithering its way onto your thigh, a gentle reminder forming into one squeeze that warmed the tips of your skin. “You don’t have to hide this from me anymore. I’m the last person who should be judging, hm?”
You could see the genuine softness relaxing the usually harsh lines on her face, as if the love she had for you diminished the residue of her past, that not even the light could capture and wash away.
You managed another smile, that feeling of security locking you against her like an anchor against crashing waves—resting your head against her shoulder while she pulled you in.
Sevika would always understand you, even between differences that felt shores away from each other.
Sevika who sticks 3 thick fingers inside you before you before you're properly ready and moans like she's the one being fucked at how you arch your back and take it
Sevika who nuzzles into your neck whispering "I know. I know, baby" when you're close for the 7th time that night
Sevika who'll spread your pussy wide open and spit on it before ramming herself inside
Sevika who'll sit back against the headboard stroking her strap and tell you "put on a good show for me" with a cigar hanging out her mouth and that smirk on her lips
Sevika who'll have your legs over her shoulders for deeper access and kiss from your ankle to your knee as she coo's at how well you take her
Sevika who wants it everywhere all the time and has gotten you kicked out of mire than one establishment because of the noise coming from the bathroom stall you were in
Sevika who'll come home from a long day and tell you to get on your knees. Hand death gripping your hair as she bounces your head up and down on her fat clit.
Sevika who tells you to "show me how you play with it" when she sticks your hand down her pants.
