Granite

You and Ron finally convinced Carl to leave his home and go to your hiding cubby just outside the walls perimeter. You and Ron had turned it into a cubicle with pillows, blankets, snacks, and a couple homemade weapons for when either of you needed a break from the new world.

Carl knew about it vaguely, but he had never set foot in it. When he did however, you could tell he was tense. The thought of getting high when something could go wrong nearly triggered a panic within him. But at the sight of the pastel plushies that you scavenged calmed him a little.

“Carl, it’s going to be okay. Y/N set little traps around the place. She’s actually quite good at it,” Ron assured Carl, motioning to a spot on the small love seat.

“Yeah,” was all Carl responded with, taking off his gun holster and hat.

Once the three of you were comfortable, you and Ron started rolling the joints. Ron took his time, and eventually had to take over for you. You had never done it before, and if it was too loose, you’d get more air than anything.

You turned to look at Carl from your spot on the floor. His arms rested on his knees while his head stood still on his knuckles. He was watching intently to Ron as he worked, observing the way his fingers moved naturally, gracefully, wrapping each thread of the herb with precision. Carl was entranced. It made you smile.

You had known for a while about Carls attraction, though he never said anything to you. It was easy to spot. You and Ron had talked about it, but he brushed it off.

“All done. Ready?” Ron asked.

“Finally,” you giggled, taking the smoke from Ron. Carl grabbed his hesitantly, holding it as if it were a disease.

“It will help you relax, Carl. I promise,” Ron assured before lighting his own. He took a deep drag from the smoke, letting it rest in his lungs for a few seconds before releasing it. He looked blissed out just from one pump.

Carl saw this and attempted to pull one before coughing it back up. His lungs weren’t used to it.

“Oh geese Carl. Are you okay?” You asked him, watching him double over. You rubbed his back gently.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to,” you said. You didn’t want to pressure him.

“I have an idea that might make it easier, Carl. Wanna try it?” Ron told him. Carl coughed one more time before saying, “yeah let’s try. It doesn’t taste so bad anymore.”

“Probably because you coughed it all up!” You giggled at him in disbelief. He smiled at you gently.

“Alright. If I make you uncomfortable though, tell me,” Ron’s words confused you and Carl both, but he nodded to confirm the promise.

Ron shuffled forward on his knees with his joint. He looked Carl in his eyes before taking his left hand, and dragging it across Carls chin, making their faces align. Their noses almost touching, Ron lightly breathed, “Open.” It was a silent command to Carl, and before he could finish, Carls mouth widened.

You could see that Carls breath was becoming heavy, making you feel something within. Something new. Ron turned to pull out another drag, then turned back, his eyes half closed, and nearly connected their lips to blow out the smoke.

Carl closed his eyes as he took in all the smoke Ron offered him. He did it so quickly that he jolted forward slightly, making their lips connect for a moment. Ron pulled back after a few moments, making sure Carl was okay.

He didn’t cough this time. His eyes were still closed as he released it all. It was one of the hottest things you’ve seen.

“Any better?” Ron asked, looking at Carl. His eyes pleading.

“Yeah…” Was all Carl could say. “Can we keep doing that instead, Ron?”

All three of you were high out of your minds, and you somehow ended up with your head in Carl’s lap, and Ron at his feet. You all were giggling and yapping at one another, bonding over the drug. It was always tense around them. Now it felt like home.

You were laughing at something Ron said when you noticed Carl looking at you with a dazed gaze.

“What’s wrong, Carl? Are you—”

“You’re so pretty, Y/N,” Carl sighed, bringing his hand up to wrap his fingers around a strand, tugging slightly.

“Carl?” Your breathing started to get heavy again, and you sucking in a breath before Carl bent down to kiss you.

It was short, but sweet. He tasted of weed, and you were sure you did as well. After pulling back from the peck, you forced your hands into his locks, pulling him back down. This time, the kiss was rough and needy.

While you and Carl were making out, Ron moved to to Carls left, watching with his mouth open slightly, taking in the view of his two crushes taking each others breath.

You both put so much into it that your lips started to bruise. Pulling back because you needed air, a string of saliva was the only thing still connecting you both. Panting, you felt his jeans below your head tighten, making you smile. He just sat there with dilated pupils as he whimpered slightly.

“What about little ol’ me, Carl?” Ron asked next to Carl.

Ron placed his arm around Carl’s shoulder and used his free hand to tilt Carls head to meet his. All they did was stare at each other for a while.

And then Ron asked, “Is this okay?” Quietly, gazing at Carls bruised, wet lips.

Carls shoulders sagged suddenly from need. Even though we had barely done anything, it was overwhelming for Carl. He whimpered a positive note, making Ron grin.

Slowly, Ron went in to kiss him. It was soft and gentle at first, but with the sounds Carl was making as you moved your head slightly to see better, you rubbed his jeans just right.

Ron took that chance to force his tongue into Carls mouth, making him jerk slightly. Ron moved with him, and you could see his eyes glazing with unshed tears. Ron devoured Carls moans as he stole every kiss from him.

You rubbed your legs together to try and get some friction, anything. You sat up, taking a seat on the other side of Carl, moving the collar of his flannel.

While Ron sucked the life out of him, you decided to give his neck some attention. Leaving wet kisses along the pale, untouched skin, marking any space you could reach, causing him to tilt his head to give you better access. The noises he made only encouraged you and Ron.

Walking along the sidewalk lining your neighborhood, you heard the cooing of a baby. You immediately recognized it as Judith. Carl always walked Judith at this time, and you had just recently started walking with them.

You and Carl have been together for about three months now, and Judith has become really close to you.

Her noises got louder as you rounded the corner, and saw that she was patiently waiting for you in her stroller.

“Judith! Good morning,” you told her, letting her grasp at your hands.

You looked up to Carl and saw him looking at you as if he was seeing you for the first time. As if he saw Christmas lights brightening before him, rapping him in warmth and the feeling of safety.

“Good morning, Carl,” you told him, walking around to give him a peck. He returned it gratefully, taking ahold of your hand.

“Ready?” Was all Carl asked, making you nod.

The three of you started walking, listening to the silence that surrounded you both.

It was quiet for about fifteen minutes, and that was when Judith started to fuss.

“Nap time, Judy?” Carl asked her, circling around to pick her up.

Carl gently cradled Judith in his arms, rocking back and forth on his heels. He was whispering to her, trying to calm her down, and all you could do was watch.

He was so good with kids, especially Judith. Whenever he was with any of the younger members, he treated them as if they were his blood. As if they were his own children. It made you yearn for a normal world. One where it wouldn’t be a life or death decision.

But you knew that if it were to ever happen, whether it’s with you or another, he would be absolutely perfect.

“You’d make a great dad,”

“What?”

Carl turned to you, shock all over his face. He didn’t look upset, but he looked distracted.

And you that was when you realized you said it out loud. You didn’t mean it to slip. It just happened.

Even with his surprised features, he still looked even more fatherly with Judith calming in his arms. His hat and eye patch displayed experience, ones that he had learned from. The gun strapped to his leg showed he was capable. You knew he would be everything you ever needed. Everything any child needed.

“You’d make a great father…” you said a little bit more softly. You stayed where you were.

You saw his breathing pattern change. It was the one thing you could catch before he muttered, “Let me go put Judith down,” before turning away from you.

He left you with a sense of regret. Why did you say that?

You found yourself sitting on the couch, listening to Carl shush Judith to sleep a few rooms down. You had no idea if he knew you were there, but you waited, hoping you didn’t ruin things.

When Carl expressed what happened with his mother, Lori, and how he had to put her down for the sake of Judith, your heart broke.

Maybe mentioning anything to do with a baby was a bad idea.

You no longer heard Carl. His whispers or humming. Just footsteps. Heavy footsteps. You didn’t dare watch him, no matter how much you were dying to.

You felt the couch shift with his weight, and you knew he sat closer to you on purpose.

“You really think so?”

You could barely hear him, but you understood completely what he meant. You turned to face him, and was met with his pleading eyes. He looked so vulnerable in this moment, you just wanted to smother him with cuddles and hold him.

“I do.”

“Well, I think you’d make a great (mother/father), y/n. You’d be amazing,” Carl grasped your hand with one of his heart stopping smiles.

“Doubtful,” you said, trying to be playful. Carl picked up on it.

While you and Daryl were out hunting, the sun bore into you, causing heads of sweat to trickle down the back of your shirt, leaving a stain. Daryl had it too. You could see his muscles gleaming from the moisture, making every movement glare into your eyes.

About three hours into your hike, you both stumbled across a lake east of the prison.

“Daryl! Look, we could hook in some fish and cool down,” Before thinking about it, you nearly ripped your top off, feeling the cooling liquid way before ran in.

As you found your bearings in the stream, your muscles relaxed and you let yourself float, the fish swarming you, the unknown creature terrorizing their water.

You noticed no other ripples, causing you to look back towards Daryl. He was still standing there, looking hesitant on what to do. Conflicted.

“Aren’t you hot, Daryl? Come on. It’s so much better.”

It almost works. You see him shrug off his cross bow, and drop his pack. Yet, he still stands there, looking lost.

You had never seen him display this much vulnerability. He has never looked so lost. His eyes looked everywhere but yours, trying to convince himself that you’ll forget about it.

His posture wasn’t as strong as usual. His shoulders were tense, and his face was sporting a scowl.

“Daryl?” Your confusion was evident in your tone, but he must have mistaken it for concern. It drew his gaze to yours, catching in the middle.

His breath hitched. His blue eyes begged yours. But you couldn’t tell what for.

Slowly, he unbuttoned his shirt, hesitating at ever other button.

It wasn’t sexual in the slightest, but it was still an intimate moment. The fear was plain, and you couldn’t understand why. Never has he ever expressed any type of fear or phobia to anyone. You were a little frightened yourself.

He finally finished, letting it drag from his shoulders down to the dying grass beneath his feet. His eyes still bored into yours as he took his time pacing into the water.

When he reached the spot next to you, the water was right at his waist line. Your knees were bent, making your head bob above the water.

He turned around slowly, showcasing his back. You tried to stop yourself, but a gasp escaped despite your efforts.

His back was lined with unorganized scars, some crossed. You fought the urge to caress them, to tell Daryl that it was okay. That there was nothing to be ashamed of. But his actions stopped you.

He made a noise resembling the intake of breath, and then in one smooth motion, he let himself drop backwards, his back hitting the water first, then next his head.

He didn’t emerge for a second

Three seconds.

Ten seconds.

You were starting to get worried. Just before you could start to panic however, he jumped out from behind you, causing a squeal to escape from you.

“Daryl, you scared me!” You tried shoving him from his chest, but he didn’t move at all.

All he did was grabbed your wrists and held them. Gentler than you thought. His hands were rough, calloused severely, but so soft and comforting.

He gazed at you with a knowing look, searching for reassurance.