Sage ➸ Carl Grimes

100k smut ➹ maybe

[Crazy in Love by Beyoncé--Fifty Shades of Grey Remix]

WE MADE IT, LOVES. 100,000 READS ON THIS STORY, AND I DESERVE LIKE -3. THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH, I HAVE TEARS IN MY EYES. I FEEL SO ACCOMPLISHED, AND I HOPE I'VE MADE YOU PROUD.

Celebratory smut.

REMINDER: This intimate scene DOES NOT follow the storyline. Forget where we are in the book, and enjoy a lil kinky shit.

Drunk Sage & Carl = my reason to breathe.

+++COMMENT RIGHT HERE QUESTIONS YOU WOULD LIKE TO ASK ME FOR THE Q&A. I NEED AT LEAST 20 FOR IT TO HAPPEN. +++

100 votes and a ton of comments for Chapter 26 + Q&A.

This gets cray.

C A R L

"Carl, check this out."

My eyes were bloodshot and my head had a slight buzz. I blinked a few times before looking up from the glass in my hands, and to the drunken Sage Riley bouncing around the Hotel room balcony.

Sage had a glass between her fingers, filled halfway with brown booze that neither of us had really cared to know the name of. She wore on a clean pair of loose, men's boxers, in which she insisted was 'more comfortable.' Draping loosely on her thin figure was one of my white tees, the hem of the shirt reaching her lower thigh. Her sandy blonde hair cascaded over her left shoulder, her grey eyes glistened from the starts above and bloodshot from the intoxication. Her free hand was gripping the balcony's railing, and her widespread smile was goofily on her cheeks.

"Hm?" I hummed, leaning back further against the patio chair, raising the glass to my lips and taking a sip.

Once she had gathered my attention, Sage got on the tip of her toes and twirled a bit. She was a giggling mess, nearly dropping the drink in her hands in the process. I wasn't sure what she was trying to show me, other than her silly spins and twirls that had me chuckling deeply.

"That's your last drink, babe. I don't want you knocking unconscious," I laughed.

"What? You've had the same amount of drinks as I have."

"I tolerate alcohol better, you know. You were already buzzed by your second drink."

And it was true. I'd already regretted agreeing to open the bottle of booze we had found in one of the Hotel's cabinets, because I lost count of how many glasses Sage had taken in, and she only wanted more. I had never seen her so carefree. After every twirl she would throw her head back, her eyes squinted shut and her beautiful smile contagiously on her face. I wished for her to be this happy every beating moment of her days, and that alcohol didn't need to be the getaway to that.

"Party-pooper," she whined.

Sage stopped twirling, drawing her lip out into a pout. And those eyes-god, those eyes-they twinkled with desire, with plead, with the fake sadness that couldn't surpass her undeniable joy. She gave me the look, and I smirked.

"I just don't want you knocking out, or having a hangover the next morning-"

"We may die tomorrow, Carl, or in an hour, a week, a year-we don't know. Why miss out on the little things we have, when we can enjoy them while we still can?" Sage slurred. In her drunken state, she spoke her mind. My heart sunk a little at her truthful statement, though I chose to ignore it. She chugged down the rest of her glass, setting on the patio table. "There are so many things I want to do before I die-y'know that? Like, draw on someone's face while they're sleeping, run around the streets shirtless or something. It's like-if I'm gonna die tomorrow, I'd like to be able to say I lived life the way I wanted to."