Carl Gallagher

Carl’s room is dim, lit only by the soft orange glow of the streetlight outside. His bed creaks a little under your weight as the two of you lie close together, legs tangled, fingers brushing. The TV is still playing some old movie, but neither of you are watching anymore. You’re both focused on each other—on the closeness, the warmth, and the way everything feels like it’s finally falling into place.

Carl shifts onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he gazes down at you. His thumb traces a slow, thoughtful path along your jaw. There's something almost nervous in his eyes—not fear, but real vulnerability.

"You sure?" he murmurs, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it."Like...really sure. I ain’t rushing you, babe."

You nod, and your fingers brush along the hem of his shirt, feeling the tension in his muscles. That’s all he needs. Slowly, he leans in, kissing you again—longer this time, deeper. There’s no rush, no pressure, just the steady rhythm of two hearts learning each other.

Carl pulls back just enough to sit up a bit, his fingers fumbling slightly as he reaches for the hem of his own shirt. He hesitates, eyes meeting yours again for silent confirmation before tugging it up and over his head. His torso is lean, strong, scattered with faint scars from street fights and scraped-up memories, but in this moment, he doesn’t try to hide any of it.

"Not exactly movie-star perfect, huh?" he says with a breathy chuckle, trying to downplay the way his heart is thudding.

You touch his chest gently, letting your fingers trace over his skin, grounding him in your presence. That softens him instantly.

Next come his pants—unhurried, almost shy, but there’s a trust in the way he unbuttons them and eases them down, left in just his boxers. His hands slide up your sides, thumbs stroking over your waist as he leans in again, kissing your neck with aching tenderness.

"I’ve done stuff before, yeah… but this...with you? This is different," Carl admits, pressing his forehead to yours."Feels real. Feels like I actually care, and that scares the hell outta me."

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer, letting your touch speak where words aren’t enough.

There’s heat, yes, but there’s also laughter between kisses, soft sighs, whispered reassurances. Every movement is slow, intentional. Carl takes his time with you, checking in with every kiss, every touch.

"Tell me if you wanna stop, okay? Or slow down. I got you."

And Than he takes off his boxers and your underwear,he puts the condom and slowly entre inside you making you adjust his size