Sage

ᯓ Sage .ᐟ 

ᯓ writer · she / her · vinyls · october baby · diet coke · reading · brown lip liner · joey lynch · silver jewlery · moon & stars · autumn · flannels

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤrecent work here .ᐟ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎‎ㅤㅤ

i’ve decided to take a step back from tumblr. i think it's been brewing in the back of my mind and i'm ready to call it quits. my time on tumblr has meant so much to me, getting to be part of this space and meeting some of the kindest people has been really special, and i’ve noticed so many writers i admired and loved so much moving on too which breaks my heart. this place was so dear to at one point but it doesn;t feel the way it was before, but it feels like the right time to leave and move on! so with that, take care of yourselves and all the best!

˗ˏˋ ꒰ bad habit - c.s ꒱ ˎˊ˗

ⓘ smut · pnv · uhm rough · slight sub!chris · very slight choking · +more

you and chris are arguing again — something truly stupid , something you'll definetly forget in less than an hour . maybe it’s the way he never cleans up after himself, or how he always has to throw the last comeback over his shoulder like it’s a game he’s determined to win he wouldn’t even call it an argument— just something he finds amusing, watching you all adorably pout behind that fragile shield of anger, the kind that makes him want to kiss it away.

you're on top of him, panties pushed aside, his cock deep inside you, getting dragged against your gummy walls as you pull back and slam and push deeper again— heat slicks your inner thighs, and chris can only stare down at where his cock disappears into you. you haul yourself up, then slam back down with no hesitation. you're not being gentle, you don't want to be gentle. you ride him hard, slamming your hips down. you ride him rough, your nails digging into his chest as you curse him out between moans. you move like you're trying to break him, your thighs shaking as you slam down over and over again.

and chris? he just looks up at you with this smug, half-lidded smile, like you're the best damn thing he's ever seen. his chest is hot and heaving under your palms, his eyes hazy, completely lost in you.

"for fuck's sake, are you ever quiet?" you snarl, pissed off that he can still look at you with that stupid, adoring gaze.

your palm flattens against the column of his throat, a silent threat. For a beat, it works—his eyes glaze over, his jaw goes slack. you feel a surge of triumph. then, the corners of his mouth twitch, and a slow, infuriating smile spreads across his face.

"my baby" he breathes out, the sound raspy and warm. "you're so fucking pretty all worked up"

and just like that, you're the one who's speechless. how are you supposed to respond to that, to the way he's looking at you, to the feel of him pulsing inside you like he's ready to lose it completely?

arrogant asshole. so you just ride him harder, faster. you'll wipe that dopey, adoring look off his face if it kills you. and chris? gosh he loves it, which is probably why he keeps doing it—a bad habit, really.

©sagesturns☆

˗ˏˋ a/n : rushed this so bad while on the train so sorry for any typos! i actually haven't written in such a while i feel so nervy so i kept it very short but uhh but here you go ˎˊ˗

DADDY GETS!!

come again....?

ᯓ✎ vicious sensitive robot . . . m.s

contents: angst. emotional distance. heartbreak. unspoken feelings. +more

SUBMARINE . . . writing marathon fic ⌗12

the rain tapped gently on the windshield, a soft rhythm that matched the beat of your racing heart. matt had the windows down despite the chill, letting the cool night air rush in and tousle your hair as the car hummed along the empty streets. music floated low, a slow, sultry tune you barely noticed because you were caught up in his laugh — genuine, light, the kind that made your chest ache with something like hope.

“stop stealing fries,” you said, swatting his hand away, half amused.

“i’m just trying to get the best ones,” he said, grinning like it was the most serious thing in the world.

you rolled your eyes but leaned closer, the scent of rain and his cologne wrapping around you like a secret. the way his eyes caught the streetlight made you want to freeze time.

“you sure you don’t wanna drive me crazy forever?” you teased, voice soft.

he grinned, his fingers brushing your arm lightly. “might already be there.”

the car slowed as you pulled into his driveway, the world outside blurred by the rain. the quiet buzz of the night mixed with distant car engines and the sharp scent of wet pavement. nick’s voice cut through the silence—half amused, half annoyed.

“keep it down, will you?”

chris was already passed out on the couch, one arm thrown dramatically over his face like a cartoon character. the two of you just giggled and ran past them, up the stairs, hearts pounding like you were doing something you weren’t supposed to — like being in love was a secret you couldn’t hold in.

you tossed your bag carelessly into his room, barely noticing where it landed. matt shook his head with a soft laugh, already pulling you toward him before you could say a word.

he kissed you like he didn’t want to stop but wasn’t sure how to keep going. like everything he wanted to say got tangled up in the space between your lips. the sounds from downstairs disappeared, and for a second, it was just you — like nothing else mattered.

when he pulled away, his breath was warm and shaky. he didn’t say anything, just looked at you like you already knew everything.

you reached up, fingers catching his jaw, and smiled without words. sometimes, that was enough.

you notice it in the small things first. the way matt doesn’t look up when you walk into the room, doesn’t shift to make space for you on the couch anymore. the way he listens like he’s only halfway there, eyes glazed over, fingers tapping against his phone like he’s waiting for a reason to leave. you still talk to him the way you always have — soft, searching, reaching — but lately it feels like speaking into a tunnel. your voice travels out, echoing into nothing, and never makes it back.

the car ride home is quiet, but this time the silence isn’t peaceful like before. it feels strained, like you’re both just going through the motions. you remember the last time you drove like this — windows down, laughter spilling over the hum of the road, music mixing with your breath. tonight, the radio plays softly, but there’s no warmth in his glance, no shared smile. it feels polite, like you’re ticking off a box — “we’re together,” you remind yourself — but the feeling of being wanted has slipped through your fingers.

he’s driving like it’s just a task, eyes fixed forward, jaw tight. you watch the streetlights flicker across his face in restless shadows. you want to reach out, to ask if this is just habit now, if he even remembers what it felt like to want you, but your hands stay still in your lap, and the words never come.

when he finally speaks, it’s not what you expected. “you’re really quiet lately.”

you let out a small, bitter laugh. “so are you.”

he doesn’t respond. just presses a little harder on the gas, like maybe if he drives fast enough, he can outrun the conversation.

at his house, the air feels heavier than it should. you follow him upstairs, footsteps soft on the carpet, your heart pounding loud in your ears. his room used to feel like home — the place where you belonged, where you were safe. you think of nights you’d slip in past nick and chris, your hearts pounding like you were stealing something precious. the warmth of his arms wrapped around you, the way his hand found yours under the blanket without a word. laughter spilling between you in the dark, secrets shared like promises.

now, you hesitate at the doorway, unsure where you fit. you stand there, waiting for something — an invitation, a look, anything.

he’s already pulling off his sweatshirt, back to you, voice flat. “you coming in or what?”

you nod, even though he isn’t looking, stepping inside. the room smells like him — faded cologne, clean laundry — but it doesn’t feel like him. not anymore.

you sit on the edge of the bed while he lies back, arms folded behind his head, eyes fixed on the ceiling like he’s somewhere far away. you used to talk like this — late nights, trading stories and dreams, his hand brushing yours, easy laughter filling the silence. now there’s only static. the kind that makes your throat burn.

you shift closer, slow, careful — your knee brushing his under the blanket, a ghost of contact. still, no reaction. no warmth.

you whisper his name. not a question. not a plea. just a reminder. i’m still here.

he exhales, long and empty, then turns away. “i’m tired,” he mumbles, voice soft and distant. “m’ gonna go to sleep. night.”

that’s it.

no apology. no hesitation. just those words, flat and weightless — words you’ve heard before, spoken to a thousand people who didn’t care.

you stare at his back, swallowing the lump in your throat, aching for the version of him that’s gone.

you want to say goodnight back. want to reach for him like you used to. but you can’t. not when it feels like love left with the light.

you lie there, stiff and small. the space between you wider than ever. the sheets too thin, the air too cold. you can’t stop thinking about the nights when laughter spilled over the hum of the road, the windows down, hearts pounding like you were stealing something precious. the way he pulled you in, like the world had shrunk just enough to hold only the two of you.

you close your eyes but don’t sleep.

you listen to the steady rhythm of his breathing, like you’re not even there.

and you wonder, quietly, when exactly he stopped meaning it.

⋆˙⟡ sage's note: umm peakaboo! im sorry i havent been consistent ive been having test after test and just school stuff (so much) ... stay tuned for 2 more!

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