#autumn!

“you didn’t mean it, my ass!” you yelled at your now, ex boyfriend.

“chill y/n. i was with my bros and we was just messing around.” he said, trying to defend himself.

“are you high?” you put his phone down and get a good look at him.

“you trippin.” gunner said while avoiding eye contact.

“it better be fucking weed and nothing else gunner!” you said while continuing to yell at him.

he had promised you he would get clean and to your knowledge he had been clean for two months, from heavy drugs.

he scratched his eye, “ma i promise it’s jus weed i smoked.”

“bullshit.” you sighed realizing you can’t help him anymore. “just get your shit and go.”

you’ve had plenty of arguments before, but it never ended like this. it would usually end with you crying and him apologizing, him buying you a gift, or you two having sex.

gunner laughed not believing you, “what? you serious bro? over some weed?”

“are you forgetting the fact you cheated on me?” you take another look at him, he seems to be in another world, “fuck this! take your shit now and leave! we’re over gunner.”

you didn’t give him time to respond, not that he would do it fast enough anyway, he had been slurring his words and speaking in fragments.

-

everything had happened so fast, you completely had forgotten mid-argument that you were supposed to go to rolling loud with him.

it’s been a week since the incident happened, you don’t know if he’s tried to contact you because you blocked him on everything, even on pinterest and roblox.

which your bestfriend told you was too far, but knowing him he’d definitely try to text you on either of those if there was no other option.

he had texted a couple of your close and shared friends asking about you though. you only told your bestfriend about everything that happened so far. she was over at your place trying to make you feel better about the whole situation.

“so what all did he tell her?” kalle asked you, opening and passing you a blue buzzball.

“he just said shit like “let’s link”, asked if she was down to fuck,” you pause midway, tapping on your buzzball, “i dunno. it kinda hurt more because i know he lied about staying clean from everything.”

“shit really? when did he relapse?”

you shrug, “not sure if he was ever clean.” you can feel the knot in your throat growing tighter.

“it’s okay y/n, i love you and i’m here for you, he’s an embarrassing asshole. i mean he rather pay a hoe to fuck than realize what he has in front of him.” she brushes her leg against yours.

you smile and take a long sip of your drink, “i completely forgot rolling loud is today.”

“damn me too, the setlist looked pretty good, apart from y’know.”

you give her a quick, fake smile, “he really wanted me there, i feel like i did something wrong.”

“girl no. you didn’t do shit wrong, come on let’s forget it, put on a movie i’ll get some more drinks.”

you loved kalle for being like this, you’ve known her since junior high and she was always able to do the right thing when you needed to take your mind off something.

you two were a couple movies and drinks in when she let out a soft gasp. you turned over instantly, moving up to take a look at her phone since you were laying on her.

“what!?”

she snatched her phone away, “nothing keep watching.”

“show me.” you insisted.

after going back and forth for a little she gave in, passing you the phone. you expected to see her texting her boyfriend something intimate, or a celebrity getting into a controversy.

instead, you saw your ex, gunner with red hair. your favorite color. you had talked about it being your favorite color since the day you met him.

all your gifts on your birthday were red themed, your room had red all over it, your clothes were practically all red, your car was red, and you had a little red tattoo in honor of your bunny that passed away.

you got flashbacks to a conversation you two were having a week ago.

-

“dude i wanna dye my hair red so bad, i just feel like it wouldn’t fit me.” you were sprawled onto his chest as he scrolled his phone.

“baby it’d look great on you, maybe make you even more sexy,” he put his phone down, “if that’s even possible.”

“shut uppp.” you giggled into his bicep.

“but no bullshit it would.” he took a pause, brushing through your hair with his fingers, “maybe you should wait a little and we can do it together.”

“i like that idea, but i love your hair now.” you pout, lifting your head up and smothering his hair with it.

“mm you’re too cute ma.” he said, lifting you up and placing you on your back.

-

you snap back into reality, trying to tune back into whatever kalle was saying.

“are you listening?”

you look at her doe-eyed, “i miss the sex.” you say, leaning your head onto her shoulder.

“i know babes, we’ll find you someone even better i promise you.”

“he was so perfect.” you sighed again.

“baby it’ll be okay, this is what he wants, don’t give in. he knows it’s your favorite color,” she rose her voice getting more mad than you, “i mean for fucks sake, who doesn’t know red is your favorite color? and didn’t you ask him if you should dye your hair?”

you slowly nod, “what an asshole.”

“come here.” she pulled you into a hug, you both dozed off soon after.

-

the next morning you woke up before kalle. you got up quietly off the couch and went straight to the restroom. you brushed your teeth and tided your hair.

you reached for your phone, opening twitter.

gunner flooded your twitter feed, mostly because you’d only post and like stuff about him, but you didn’t expect it to be this bad.

everyone was raving about his new hair and where you were. you saw the songs he performed, seeing “nothing like uuu.”

you knew it was a bad idea, but you clicked on the clip of him performing it. he made it for you, he told you he had met so many other girls, but none were like you. how romantic.

you instantly teared up, regretting what had happened. you debated whether you should text him or not, your finger hovering over the “unblock” button, until kalle came into the restroom.

“y/n?” she groaned.

you instantly turned your phone off, opening the door for her and wiping your tears like nothing at happened. you let her use the restroom and waited outside on the couch.

you saved the video to your phone and rewatched it at least hundred times, waiting for her to come out.

“breakfast?” she stretched.

you nodded no, “kinda wanna buy the hair dye.” you gave her a look, wanting to make sure it wasn’t an impulsive, bad idea.

“even better idea.” she smirked while slipping her shoes on.

-

yourusername: blue, i like the feeling of it.

liked by, 2hollis, yunglean2001, rommulas, and 352k others

limited comments

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sadiesink_ yes, she was born like this guys

⤷ yourusername hi carrot head

THIS IS BASED OFF OF AN INTERVIEW WHERE HE CLAIMED BLUE WAS HIS FAVORITE COLOR BECAUSE HE “LIKES THE FEELING OF IT.” !!!!!!!

THIS picture of him actually does something to me.

lmk if you guys want a part 2!?

Mel felt good going into it. She and Becca used to love carving pumpkins as kids, and Mel was a decent cook—though baking, she knew, was an entirely different ballgame. It was much more precise with less room for error. She was considering handing that task off to Frank, but then he was suddenly poring over the stencil options, his hand darting out to grab one that caught his eye.

And—because he was a guy, Mel muses, he just had to have picked the most complicated stencil: a witch on a broom mid-flight, her skirt billowing behind her in the wind. Mel had taken one look at the complex angles and detailing before trying to convince him to go for the simpler, classic jack-o’-lantern face instead—misshapen teeth and all—but Frank was undeterred.

“No way,” he’d said, shaking his head. He then tore off a piece of scotch tape with his teeth, and something about it made Mel’s mouth part in anticipation—though for what, she couldn’t have told you—and suddenly, all her resolve went out the window as he continued: “This witch is badass. Girl power, and all that.”

So Mel let him pick the complicated witch stencil. It seemed decided, just like that, and Mel couldn’t find the strength to be too upset about it—until, that is, her initial worry turned out to be almost too on the nose.

Their pumpkin looked terrible. Frank had taped on the stencil somewhat haphazardly, the image crooked and off-center, but he had already started carving before either of them had noticed, and it was far too late to fix that particular mistake. He also seemed to have trouble with the accompanying carving tool that came with their kit—it was almost too small, looking frail and tiny in his hand—and it certainly wasn’t strong enough to withstand the level of force Frank tried to get it to wield. He ended up cutting large chunks of pumpkin away that weren’t necessarily outlined, and Mel had a sinking suspicion, somehow, that perhaps they should’ve switched tasks as soon as he’d selected their choice.

“I’m just wondering,” Mel says now, her eyes flitting over the various, messy chunks of pumpkin surrounding him, “whether your eye for precision only manifests when someone’s life is at stake.”

Frank’s arm stills, the serrated tool catching in a particularly thick piece of pumpkin. She sees his jaw tighten before he rolls his eyes, though he’s also wearing a small smile—so she knows he’s not actually offended. “My precision skills are very much intact. It’s this stupid knife—I mean, Jesus. How is anyone supposed to actually be able to cut through anything?”

“Are you sure about that?”

Frank leans back, his brows lifting. “If I had a ten-blade, this would be the best carved pumpkin that you’ve ever seen,” he says, spinning his handiwork toward Mel. “And I don’t appreciate the criticism. It’s not that bad.”

Mel fights a smile as she cracks an egg into her mixing bowl. “Really? Because you’re making her a neck the size of a tree trunk.”

Frank licks his lips before giving her a sideways look. It unnerves her, because he’s staring at her in a way that strikes her as amused but suggestive, somehow, and it does little to stop the pitter-patter of her heart as he says, “Very funny. Let’s see you try it then, Melissa.”

Mel’s hand pauses, her fingers gripping a second egg a bit too tightly. “You want to switch?”

Frank stands, a smirk lining his handsome features as he nears her. “I think I do, yeah,” he says, and then he’s taking the egg from her hand and cracking it into her bowl himself, his eyes never leaving hers all the while. “If you think you can handle it so much better, why don’t you show me?”

It’s not fair. He smells faintly of pumpkin seeds and sweat and some other pheromone that she’s sure, somehow, was designed specifically for her. She swallows as she steps away, nodding. “Sure thing,” she says, trying to will a sense of confidence she doesn’t necessarily feel. “I’m up to step four, by the way. For the recipe. If you think you can follow directions.”

“Oh, ho ho,” Frank calls as she steps around him, his laugh booming through the space. “Wow. I see how it is. You know, if I’d known this is how you were going to be, I might’ve picked someone else for my partner.”

She tugs at the serrated tool, still stuck in the pumpkin, before she gives him another glance. “You say that, but I don’t think that’s true.”

He eyes her as she still tries, again and again, to pull the carving knife free from its place. “Hm,” he says, and Mel peeks a glance as he leans against the counter with his hip. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, his arms enjoyably flexed and lending credence to the veins she likes to catalogue up his forearms and—

“Tell me more about that.”

She feels a trickle of sweat bead at her hairline. Was this thing superglued into the pumpkin? “I was always picked first for group projects. I have a highly-regarded and superb penchant for attention to detail, and I think you know that.”

She hears him let out an amused, appreciative sound, but she doesn’t look. She can’t. “I’m sure you were. But can I tell you something?”

Mel sighs, an impatient sound escaping her as she turns to face him. “What?”

Without warning, Frank leans forward and brushes the pad of his thumb across her cheek. Not once, either. Two, three times. Mel’s breath catches in her throat, her eyes wildly searching his as her lips part. She has no idea what prompted such a—

“You had some flour,” he says softly, the corner of his mouth lifting. “And that’s not why I picked you, but I think you know that.”

liquor had them reckless. empty bottles on the table, music low in the background, laughter bouncing off the walls. autumn leaned back on the couch, sweats hanging low on his hips, eyes half-lidded but sharp whenever they landed on her.

“you drunk as hell,” he muttered, smirking as she stumbled past him.

“so are you,” she shot back, giggling.

she bent over to grab something off the floor—too slow, too playful—and when she looked back, his gaze was locked on the way her body curved, lips tugging into a grin.

“you know what you doin’, huh?” his voice dipped, low and heavy.

before she could answer, he slid behind her, hands gripping her waist. the press of him hard through his sweats made her gasp.

“autumn—”

“shhh,” he hushed, grinding slow against her ass. the friction made her whimper, her body betraying her.

he moved with her bent over, his hips rolling, sweats sliding lower and lower with each push. her breath caught when she felt bare skin against her—hot, heavy, leaking against her.

“fuck…” he groaned, teeth gritting. “i can’t… sh*t feel too good.”

then it happened—sudden, sharp. his dick slipped past the thin barrier, sliding inside before either of them could stop it.

her eyes widened, mouth falling open. the stretch burned, unexpected.

“oh my god—”

autumn froze for a second, chest heaving. “damn… i ain’t even mean to—”

but the way her body clenched around him? he couldn’t pull back.

“shit,” he growled, grip tightening on her waist. “too late now.”

he pushed deeper, slow at first, watching her crumble under the stretch.

her moans spilled out, soft, broken. “autumn… fuck, it’s—”

“yeah, i know,” he cut in, grinding into her harder. “pussy swallowin’ me up.”

his pace grew messy, drunk and desperate, hips snapping into hers until the couch creaked beneath them.

“thought you was just gon’ tease me?” he taunted, pulling her hair back so she had to look at him. “look at you… bent over, takin’ all this dick like you wanted it the whole time.”

her nails clawed the cushion, body rocking as he hit deeper, sweat dripping down his temples.

“fuck, you feel too good,” he groaned, pounding harder, his low sweats barely hanging on. “i ain’t stoppin’ now… you mine tonight.”

her legs shook, body arching as her orgasm snapped through her, moans spilling uncontrollably.

autumn cursed, head falling back, his release spilling inside her raw, filling her up until it dripped down her thighs.

he held her there, breathing heavy, hips still twitching.

“shit…” he muttered, voice rough, kissing the back of her shoulder. “wasn’t no accident after all.”

✩｡:*•. ━━━━━━ ☆ ━━━━━━ .•*:｡✩

𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 🥂

📍 location: autumn’s penthouse west atlanta

time: 10:47 a.m., sunlight leaking through half-closed blinds

✩｡:*•. ━━━━━━ ☆ ━━━━━━ .•*:｡✩

her head pounded. the sunlight slicing through the blinds was too bright, sheets too warm, her body still sticky from the night before. she groaned, rolling over.

autumn was already awake. sitting up against the headboard, phone in hand, blunt tucked between his lips. his sweats rode low, hair messy, eyes bloodshot but sharp when they flicked her way.

“you loud as hell in the morning,” he muttered, smoke curling into the air.

“and you rude as fuck,” she shot back, voice raspy, half-asleep.

he exhaled slow, a smirk tugging his lips. “girl, just go back to sleep. quit all that talkin’.”

she turned, burying her face in the pillow. “make me.”

the room stilled. his phone hit the nightstand with a clack.

“…what you say?” his voice dropped, dangerous.

she peeked up, lips curling. “i said… make me.”

autumn moved fast—hand gripping her ankle, dragging her back under him before she could blink. his weight pressed her into the mattress, sweatpants shoved down, his dick already hard and heavy against her thigh.

“bet,” he muttered, low and dark.

she gasped as he slid in raw, no warning, the stretch making her arch off the sheets.

“fuck—autumn—”

“nah,” he growled, hand wrapping around her throat, pressing her back into the bed. “you wanted me to make you, right? so shut the fuck up and take it.”

his thrusts hit deep, rough, slamming her into the mattress with each snap of his hips. the headboard rattled against the wall, sunlight catching the sweat on his chest as he leaned over her, choking her with one hand, pinning her wrists with the other.

“look at you,” he spat, eyes locked on hers. “moanin’ like you ain’t just tell me to shut up.”

her voice cracked under his grip, eyes rolling back as pleasure drowned her body.

“this dick makin’ you talk different, huh?” he sneered, pounding harder, the sound of skin on skin sharp in the quiet condo. “make me? nah, i made you mine.”

her legs shook, body trembling as his strokes dragged her closer to the edge.

“open your fuckin’ mouth,” he ordered, tightening his grip just enough to make her gasp. “tell me who’s really in charge.”

“y-you—” she whimpered, tears spilling, her orgasm hitting hard enough to make her cry out.

“that’s right,” autumn groaned, hips slamming deeper, chasing his own high. “all mine.”

he buried himself to the hilt, groaning as he spilled inside, hand still gripping her throat, holding her gaze locked with his.

when it was over, he stayed there, breathing hard, sweat dripping onto her chest.

he kissed her jaw, rough and lazy. “next time you tell me make you… don’t think i’ma let you slide.”