Por fin he vuelto a photoshear un poco. Aquí os muestro a Arthur y Max, personajes de @thewalkingdeadroll así como el selfie de las navidades en Oceanside xD.
Summary: As a teenager, you had a crush on your attractive neighbor Frank Castle. You were there on that horrible day and never thought you’d see Frank again - until he turned up right next door.
Warnings: Smut (Frank is actually a pretty gentle gentleman in this), Age Gap, Death, Mentions of pedophilia, Teen drinking
Word Count: 8.2k (I got a little carried away… there’s probably a bit of unnecessary backstory here lol)
Frank noticed the stumbling young woman on the side of the road and his brows furrowed in concern. Even though he couldn’t see your face, only your back being illuminated by his headlights in the night as he drove up the dark street that eventually led to your homes (two miles away), you were familiar. His foot pressed the brake, drawing the car to a crawling pace beside you.
Panicked when you realized an unidentified vehicle was stopping beside you in the middle of the night, your eyes darted over there and you looked like deer in the headlights. That is, until a familiar gruff voice called out your name questioningly.
“Frank?” You hiccuped, taking steps closer to the open passenger window but tripping and stumbling over your own feet.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “yeah, it’s me kid. What’re you doing out here? Are you okay?”
It was clear that you weren’t okay. Mascara had smeared under your eyes from a wild night at a crazy party. Your hair was a messier version of what he assumed had looked nice a few hours ago. You also reeked of alcohol.
At first you nodded assuredly before shaking your head and then nodding again. Finally, you pointed down the road, “‘m just tryn- *hiccup* tryna make it back home.”
“Home’s a long ways down the road. Why don’t you hop in? I’ll give you a ride,” Frank offered, motioning for you to get in the car.
You shook your head and waved him off dramatically, almost falling backwards, “No, no, no. I got this.”
Frank couldn’t help the amused chuckle that fell from his lips. He remembered being in your position. Sixteen years old, drinking with friends, testing your limits. He had done the same stuff in high school at your age. He didn’t fault you one bit but he did want to make sure you were safe and considering he lived across the street, this was really no inconvenience to him.
“C’mon. Get in. Can’t have you walkin’ alone drunk at night.” Frank insisted, now getting out of the car and walking over to you. He opened the passenger door and held his hand out to help guide you inside. It didn’t take long for you to submit to his persistence, the idea of walking home not being very appealing anyways. What began as an attempt to slowly lower yourself into the seat resulted in your foot slipping off the edge of the curb and your butt hitting the soft seat with a thud.
“Oof!” You grunted dramatically before giggling uncontrollably, “Whoops!”
Frank ignored the fall and leaned over you, pulling your seat belt across your chest, “Geez, you smell like you drank the whole bar.”
You giggled, “I certainly tried.”
He shut the door and got back into the driver’s seat before peeling back onto the street. “Yeah, I remember those days. Just be careful. Don’t hurt yourself. And always make sure you’re safe. There are some terrible people in this world that would see a pretty drunk girl and see an opportunity,” he said sincerely, “What were you doin’ walkin’ alone at eleven o’clock at night anyways?”
At first you burned hot. Did Frank Castle just say you’re pretty? Then you shrugged and cuddled back into the seat, the alcohol beginning to make your eyelids heavy. “Was at a party at some girl’s house,” you began before you found yourself having to swallow hard to keep the storm in your stomach at bay, “Me ‘n some friends all went but the cops busted the place. We all ran but we got separated. I don’t know where they went but their car was gone so I just walked home.” You didn’t sound upset by this - more like it was just a matter of fact.
“Some friends you got there,” Frank grumbled, “You know, friends don’t leave other friends to get arrested.”
You just sat silently, guilt beginning to settle in. Then realization hit you, “Shit! My parents are gonna kill me.”
Frank laughed, “Maybe you should have thought of that a few shots ago.”
“I was gonna stay the night at Becca’s house!” you whined in defense and although Frank had no clue who Becca was, he assumed it was one of the friends who left you for the cops.
He just shook his head as he drove down the dark road. “What were you doing out so late?” You tried to poke at his arm but it came off as a weak attempt.
“Lisa is sick. Just had to run down to the drug store and get some of that baby Tylenol. I’m glad I did though otherwise you would’ve had a long walk ahead of you.”
You just smiled and lolled your head to the side, looking at Frank with all the admiration in the world, “You know you’re perfect right?”
Frank looked over to you with brows furrowed and a chuckle of disbelief, “Oh please…”
“No really! You’re like perfect. I mean you just picked me up to make sure I got home safe because you’re like really nice,” you hiccuped, “And- and you’re getting Lisa those special baby medicines cause,” hiccup, “you’re a really good dad. And you’re tough and strong. I mean really strong. I really like your muscles a lot. And you’re really handsome.” You babbled endlessly, all of your deepest most secret thoughts spewing out of your mouth uncontrollably.
Your older neighbor had no clue how to handle your kind albeit inappropriate confession. Frank had never been good with words, “Uh look,”
“I think I’m in love with you,” you confessed suddenly. “I know I shouldn’t be cause you’re old and I’m only sixteen but I see you every day being all perfect with your perfect house and your perfect baby and your perfect wife and I secretly wish it were me instead of her.”
Frank swallowed hard and exhaled heavily. He almost wanted to pull over so he could look you in the eye but even from the glances at you he took away from the road made the lovestruck sparkle in your eye glisten apparently. While flattered, Frank felt criminal just hearing it. “I-I appreciate that, kid. I really do. And you’re a really sweet kid but-”
“You keep calling me kid.”
“Cause you are a kid,” Frank said firmly, “Look, you’re growing into a fine young woman and one day, you’re gonna make some lucky boy a happy man.”
You sighed heavily, “So you don’t love me?” It was a ridiculous question and Frank could tell even you knew that. He knew it was just the alcohol talking, making you admit things he was never meant to hear. Frank felt guilty now knowing these things that he was sure you’d be embarrassed about him knowing.
“I’m married. I have a kid. And I’m a lot older than you,” Frank explained, turning onto your street.
“You’re old but you’re not that old. You’re like, what? Ten years older than me maybe? Fifteen max!” You tried to reason with him one last time before sighing in morose resignation, “It’s okay. Why would you like me back anyways?”
Frank pulled the car into his driveway and shook his head. He didn’t want to hurt you but he couldn’t enable these feelings either. He just hoped the alcohol would erase the memories of tonight so he could pretend like it never happened and could spare you the embarrassment. Without a word, he got out of the car and opened your door. He nodded towards the lawn, “C’mon. You’ve had a lot to drink. We should get you home.”
*
Years had passed. You’d graduated high school and spent a few years on your own. Despite struggles, life had been going relatively well as of late. You had moved to Hell’s Kitchen which, while not ideal, held a promising career opportunity and a surprisingly affordable apartment compared to some other parts of New York.
Your abode was humble to say the least, just a studio with brick walls and a stove from the 1960s. It was yours though and it definitely was better than a lot of other options, all of which were thousands of dollars a month for an apartment more comparable to a shoe box than a living space. But that was the price of living in New York, you supposed. The city of dreams and rats.
It had been a long day at work. As you exited the elevator to your floor, a tired drag in your step, you stared down your front door like it was a target and you refused to miss. You needed a drink. Or two. Alone or with friends, you couldn’t care less, you just couldn’t wait to take these dang heels off.
After the long trek down the hall, you reached the door. You fumbled through your bag to find your keys when the door to the next apartment opened.
You startled, used to it being empty for the last several months. The stranger’s back was turned to you but you could tell he was a middle aged man, towering and muscular with a commanding presence, even without trying. His black t-shirt was loose over his denim jeans and a black duffel bag was slung over his shoulder.
“Uh, hi-” You started awkwardly, feeling obligated to at the very least introduce yourself to the new neighbor, “did you just move in?”
The tall man turned around to face the unexpected voice behind him and you both shared mutual looks of dawning surprise when you saw each others’ faces. “Frank?” You asked in utter shock.
Frank’s eyes widened and he looked like he was looking at a ghost as he said your name questioningly. This could be bad, living next to you. You even knowing he was alive was a risk.
“What the hell is going on?” You stammered, knowing full well his past. Knowing full well he was supposed to be dead. You had grown up right next to the Castle family. Granted, you had moved out by the time Lisa was four but you had been home visiting the day Frank’s family was murdered. You had been there. It was horrible and traumatic and you remembered every second of that day.
*
It was a pleasantly chilly day when you got a knock on your front door. You skipped down the stairs, happy to be home for the week, and opened it to find the Castle family standing in the doorway. Immediately, Frank Jr. and Lisa threw their arms around your waist. “We missed you so much!” Lisa squealed.
Maria laughed at her kids, “I’m sorry! We saw your car in the driveway and the kids just had to come say hi.”
You squeezed them both tightly and a beaming smile spread across your face, “Don’t be sorry! I haven’t seen you all in forever!”
“We’re going to Central Park!” Frank Jr. jumped up and down excitedly, “We want you to come with!”
You looked at Frank and Maria questioningly, “Oh, well, I don’t know. As much fun as it sounds, I know your dad just got home and I’m sure you probably want to spend time as just a family.”
Frank’s face distorted like the very thought was ridiculous, “Ah, come on. You’re practically family at this point.”
“We’d love for you to come,” Maria added with a kind smile.
You thought for a moment but once you realized that your parents both worked and you’d just be sitting at home alone all day, you decided to go. “Okay, you talked me into it. Let me grab my coat.”
You stood beside Frank and Maria, watching the kids ride the carousel. Every time you looked away, they made sure to yell your name followed by “Look at me! Look at me!”. The love you felt from and for this family had always astounded you. And to think, all it took was one drunken night in high school to form that close bond with the family that you’d always been friendly with but never this close. You didn’t even remember most of it but you’d been grateful for Frank picking you up that night and even more grateful for it making the two of your families more comfortable with each other.
Billy saddled up beside you, between you and Frank, and looked at you with those eyes that were absolutely lethal. With a face like his, he could get whatever he wanted and he knew it which was why despite his incessant flirting with you, you refused to give him it. “Hey, sweetheart, my sweet tooth is actin’ up,” he commented, looking you up and down, like you were an ice cream and he was licking you with his gaze.
Frank rolled his eyes and shoved Billy’s head, “Easy tiger. Touch her and I’ll cut your dick off.”
You gave Billy those innocent doe eyes that held restrained falsified lust behind them and cooed, “Well, if you’re that down bad for something sweet…” you got closer to him and Billy’s brows raised, sure he was about to get what he wanted. Frank looked over at you, cocking his brow with something between vague disgust and surprise. “There’s cotton candy over there,” you dropped your act and patted his shoulder in a brotherly way, “Don’t hurt yourself.”
You glanced between the two men and watched Billy laugh and shake his head, trying to play off the rejection. Frank chuckled at his brother’s failure and gave you a tiny proud nod meant just for you.
Billy was attractive, undeniably so. He looked like he was straight out of a novel with debonair danger. Still, it was Frank that had your heart. It was silly to still like him after all this time. Maybe it was the fact that you could never have him that made the flame impossible to extinguish. But still, it was always these little moments, like a tiny gesture like that nod, meant only for you, that had your heart racing. You just hoped it wasn’t obvious. If Frank ever knew, you’d probably die of humiliation and never be able to look him in the eye again.
It took you a moment to realize that your gaze had been lingering on Frank for much longer than was appropriate. Billy kicked your foot slightly, just enough to silently earn your attention. Your eyes shot over to him and he only wiggled his eyebrows once, lifting his chin towards Frank enough for only you to know what he meant and then he sent you a knowing cocky smirk. “I see,” he mused, a wicked glint in his eyes.
You tried to shake your head casually and roll your eyes as if the mere insinuation was absurd but Billy saw right through it. Paranoid, you side eyed Frank and Maria, who were watching their kids still go around and around on plastic ponies.
“I’ll be right back,” you excused yourself, gesturing to the restroom that was not too far from here. As you left, you held eye contact with Billy. As much as you despised his perceptive abilities, you had a feeling that he would enjoy holding this over you too much to actually tell Frank. Then, he lost leverage.
Turns out, going to the bathroom was the only thing that saved your life that day.
As soon as you finished and were washing your hands, gunshots boomed through the park. Your blood ran cold as ice as your knees instinctively buckled, your autopilot guiding you to partially duck behind the porcelain sink. Many more rang out with the speed of an automatic weapon.
What were you supposed to do? On one hand, you wanted to rush out to Frank, Maria, Billy, and the kids, make sure you were all safe and could leave together, alive and well. On the other, you felt like this might be one of the safest places for you and that, even in the open, Maria and the kids were safer with Billy and Frank than with anyone else.
And so you hid. You climbed into a stall, shut the door, and crouched on the toilet seat so your feet weren’t visible. With your heart pounding in your ears, tears streaking your face, and strangled muffled hiccups of sobs, you texted Frank first: Are you guys okay? And then your parents: I love you. And then Frank again: I’m in the bathroom. Please can we meet up? And then one final text: Thank you for everything.
By the time the police found you and ushered you out of the bathroom, the FBI had already had the scene under surveillance. Between the officers milling about, you caught glimpses of the Castle family on the ground, lifeless and bloody, blocked off by caution tape and being photographed by the forensics team.
Your heart plummeted, “Oh my God! No!” You screamed, trying to rush over to them but the police officer held you back. “Let me go! Frank! Lisa!” The legs you were trying to use to force your way through the officer’s gave out and you crumpled to the ground in a sobbing heap.
That was the last time you saw any of them.
*
Frank’s vigilante rampage as the Punisher had been all over the news and you had followed every story with immense investment. It was Frank, after all. In all honesty, you never agreed with the horrible things said about him on the news. You had known Frank for years and while you knew he had an undeniable violent streak, you knew he would never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. Despite his crimes, when news of his death broke, you were devastated. Yet here he was, standing right in front you, apparently your next door neighbor now.
Frank knew he needed to sort things out with you and fast. He put his hand out towards you and you flinched back instinctively, not because you were afraid of him but because this didn’t feel real. This couldn’t be real. He retracted and put his hand up to show he wasn’t gonna hurt you. “Look, I can explain, but you need to come inside. I can’t talk about it in the open,” he explained, gesturing towards the door of his apartment.
You looked at it cautiously, wondering if this was really the wisest decision. You had always trusted that Frank hadn’t really been in the wrong in his excursions but there was still gnawing anxiety as you thought about going through that door. But you needed to know. “Okay,” you nodded shakily and Frank opened the door again, leading you inside.
He clearly had just moved in. The pre-furnished apartment was practically as empty as it had been before a tenant moved in. Aside from the single duffel Frank had shouldered, there was one other bag on the kitchen table. You sat down on the old couch that had been worn down from the previous tenants and Frank sat beside you.
His brows seemed to be perpetually furrowed, a staple on his handsome face that showed the years of torture he had endured. He leaned forward on his knees and he ran his large hand through his hair in distress, “I know how crazy this looks-”
“Yeah,” you scoffed, “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“I know,” Frank sighed, “Look, I got a new identity now okay? You can call me Frank behind closed doors but if you see me in public, I’m Pete Castiglione.”
“Okay?” you looked at him expectantly, “That doesn’t explain anything. You were dead, Frank.”
Frank shook his head. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need you getting involved with his bullshit and he certainly didn’t need someone who knew him to screw up his chance at having a life again. “There were some bad people. The ones who- who killed my family,” there was a small pause as you both remembered that day so vividly, “I took care of it. But once the world found out I was still alive and being publicized as doin’ the things I was doin’, I had to disappear again.”
You took a moment to absorb the new information. Frank Castle, your long time neighbor turned vigilante (or mass murdered, depending on your outlook), was alive. You didn’t think too far into what ‘I took care of it’ meant. It was obvious.
“Well… you picked a hell of a place to disappear to,” you weakly attempted a joke, gesturing around the small apartment that had clearly seen better days (like, several decades ago).
Frank looked over his shoulder at his new residence, “Yeah, well, I just needed somewhere cheap. Don’t need nothin’ fancy.”
Silence settled over the two of you as you both mulled over what this now meant. In all honesty, you didn’t know what it meant for you. You were just glad Frank was alive. “Why don’t you come over for dinner?” You offered, nodding towards the wall that was shared with your apartment.
Frank shook his head, “Nah, I don’t want to put you out.”
“It looks like you haven’t had the chance to get any groceries yet and I’m telling you now that that Indian food place across the street is not worth it, if you know what I mean. I have to cook anyway so why don’t you just come over and not make me eat alone, yeah? Besides, there’s probably a lot to catch up on…”
Frank knew he couldn’t argue with that little smile you gave him, not that he wanted to. The thought of having something that resembled his life before all this pain was a glimmer of happiness that he tried to hide away because he knew it was only a matter of time before it was extinguished. But he really did want to catch up with you.
“Okay,” he agreed, “I’d like that.”
With a satisfied smile, you stood up and reshouldered your bag, “Good. Well I’m gonna go get started cause I’m starving. You’re more than welcome to come over now if you want.”
You stood beside the stove, stirring the components of the dish you’d been craving all week. The scent wafted through the air deliciously and you hummed in satisfaction when you sampled it. Frank stood opposite the little bar that also served as your counter. “You sure I can’t help with anything?”
You hummed, “Mhm! It’s almost done anyways. If you want a drink or something though, there might be wine in that cabinet.” You gestured to the cabinet to his right with the wooden spoon in your hand.
He pointed at it to double check that that was the one you were referring to and opened it, lifting down the bottle of rosé in there. He smirked at the label, “A friend of mine loves this one too.”
With a chuckle, you pulled down some plates and began to dish them up, “It’s a good one!”
“Yeah it is,” he smiled, remembering Sarah Lieberman, “Strong shit.”
Your brow quirked, “Didn’t strike me as a rosé kind of guy.”
Frank put a hand on his chest in feign offense, “Hey, I like more than beer and whiskey or whatever box you have me in in your head.”
Carrying a plate in each hand, you brought them over to the dining room table. You hustled back into the kitchen to retrieve two wine glasses and Frank joined you at the table, using the wine opener in the cabinet to uncork the clear glass bottle. His large hands poured the pink liquid with delicacy and he took his seat across from you.
You dove right in, your rumbling stomach ready to make itself a third party in this conversation. Frank took a bite too and his eyes widened. “Wow…”
“What?”
“That’s good,” he said amazed, pointing at the plate, “Definitely better than the take out I eat most of the time.”
You smiled, “Well now that you live next door, you don’t have to eat take out all the time.”
Frank covered his mouth while he chewed, brows furrowing as he shook his head, “I don’t want to bug you.”
You scoffed, “Please, you couldn’t bug me if you tried. It gets lonely anyways sometimes.” You reoccupied yourself with the food, an unexpected comfort having already settled over you and Frank.
Frank couldn’t help but watch you and wonder when the hell you had become a woman. He and Maria had bought the house next to yours just after she had had Lisa. You had to have been around fifteen when he first met you but it hadn’t been until about a year later when the two of you had had any significant interaction beyond a neighborly wave if you crossed each other in town. It wasn’t until that one night he found you drunkenly stumbling home after a party that the two of you ever really spoke more than pleasantries. After that, you babysat his children and practically became part of the family. Even after you graduated and left home, you’d stayed in touch. He knew he technically knew you as an adult but this was the first time he ever realized that you were a real woman.
“What?” You questioned, cheeks burning under his gaze that had been on you for a few too many seconds for comfort.
He shook his head and reached for his glass of wine, “Sorry just… you’ve grown up a lot since I last saw you.” Frank felt like such a creep. He had known you since you were in high school and had never felt anything more than friendship for you but now he looked at you and he felt a magnetism, like his heart was pulled towards you even though every fiber of his being told him it was wrong.
The memories of the last time you saw him threatened to slip through the wall you had it hidden behind but you quickly covered it with a chuckle, “It wasn’t that long ago. I was like 19 or 20 last time we saw each other.”
“There’s a lot of growin’ that happens in your twenties,” Frank defended before cautiously continuing, “But, uh, you look good.”
You smiled sincerely, “Thanks. I’ve definitely been trying. I had to redeem myself from that terrible haircut I had in high school.” You both laughed but Frank looked confused.
“Aw, c’mon, it wasn’t that bad!”
“I can guarantee it most definitely was,” you insisted, “I look back at my old yearbook photos and cringe.”
Frank sipped his wine, “Well, I never thought it was all that bad but I guess I’m not exactly model material myself.”
You mirrored his drink and set it down with a sigh, as if you already regretted what you were about to admit but something was still compelling you to confess anyways. “Nah…” you started with a slight concealing chuckle.
After the exhaustion of the work day and the high emotions of seeing Frank again, the voice in your head that monitored your words stood no chance against the minimal wine you’d ingested. “You know, speaking of high school, I used to have a kind of a crush on you.” You saw how his eyes widened a little at your admission so you continued, waving the idea away, “It was silly, really.“
Frank couldn’t believe you told him. For years, he’d harbored your secret for you, one you yourself were unaware of sharing. He’d never expected you to tell him. "Y’know, I feel bad admittin’ it but I actually knew,” he confessed with a gruff clearing of his throat.
You rolled your eyes, totally not believing him, “What do you mean you knew? How could you have possibly known?”
He crossed his thick arms across his chest and leaned back, eyes locking on a spot on the table, finding it easier than seeing the impending embarrassment that was sure to fall on your face. With an awkward chuckle, he started explaining, “You remember that night back in high school when I found you stumblin’ home drunk ‘n gave you a ride home?”
You nodded along to his story, hiding behind your wine glass while looking over the rim at him once you realized where this was going, “Yeah. I mean no, not really, but yeah.” You chuckled, the majority of that night having been a blur of patchy memories. He gave you a look that you knew meant that you must have done what you had always fought to conceal and your face fell, “I didn’t…”
Frank chuckled but gave you an apologetic look, “Yeah… yeah you did.”
Your eyes squeezed tight and you lightly bonked the mostly empty wine glass against your forehead, wishing it could conceal how absolutely mortified you were. Suddenly, you leaned forward, both hands twisting the stem of your wine glass. “So you’re telling me you knew all these years?”
He wiped his hand across this face, concealing the heat in his cheeks and the goofy smile on his lips, “I did.”
You groaned and plopped your forehead onto the wooden table, “Ugh, I’m gonna go crawl in a hole.”
Frank rolled his eyes, “Nah, don’t worry about it. It was actually kinda cute.”
You laughed, downing the rest of your wine in one gulp. You wiped your mouth, swallowing hard, “Well, I’m glad you thought so…” This was humiliating. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so embarrassing if you didn’t still have feelings for him. It was just socute.
“I always had an ugly mug so I can’t lie, I was a little flattered when you said it,” Frank chuckled, trying to cushion the embarrassment he hadn’t intended for you to feel.
You shook your head, “You’ve never been ugly, Frank. I could never figure out why you always seemed to think so.”
Your fingertip traced lightly around the rim of your glass as silence befell your conversation. The two of you sat in the new quietness but still, all you felt was the awkwardness of this new information lingering over the two of you. Although, technically you supposed it was just new to you… Frank had known for years.
Unable to bear the tension any longer, you stood up abruptly and made your way to the wine bottle on the counter, your back to Frank at the table. You refilled your glass, probably a little too full, and sipped deeply from it. Behind you, Frank’s chair scraped against the hardwood floor and the wood creaked beneath the shift of his heavy weight.
“Did you want some more?” You offered over your shoulder, turning towards him with the bottle in your hand only to be taken aback by Frank’s large body already towering over your frame. You jumped back, hands gripping the countertop out of instinct, “Wooh! Sorry,” you chuckled, his close proximity making butterflies flutter wildly in your stomach, “Didn’t expect you there…”
Frank’s eyes were lowered towards the ground as he fidgeted the wine glass between his large hands but his brow was furrowed, something heavy on his mind. “Look, uh, I don’t want you feelin’ weird or nothin’ about what you said to me all those years ago. I know that was then and things have probably changed after everything that’s happened. But, shit, this is probably so fucking wrong of me to say but you are beautiful. And I don’t know if sayin’ that just makes me some creepy old man but…” He stopped, unable to find the right words to say next. Maybe there were no right words. Maybe he’d already said all the wrong ones.
You gawked at Frank and his confession, your brain struggling to comprehend his words. There was no way Frank was saying those words to you. There was no way he was looking at you like that, with wide desperate eyes, hoping you would say anything to dispel the disgust he felt now towards himself.
After a few moments had passed, his face fell for just a moment before he replaced it with that mask he wore so often. He cleared his throat and set the wine glass on the counter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have said anything,” He turned to leave before muttering, “Thanks for dinner.”
You panicked when you saw him head for the door and chased after him. “Wait!” Your hand fell on his shoulder from behind and when he turned his large shoulders to face you, you quickly stood on your tiptoes and leaned up to press your lips to his. Your eyes were squeezed shut but you felt his surprise. Frank’s firm muscles tensed beneath your hands. He stumbled backwards from the unexpected weight of your body against his, before catching you around the waist with his broad hands. For a moment, he moved his head back but only in shock. He never pulled away.
His lips were surprisingly soft against yours, moving in better unison than you ever could have imagined in your teenage fantasies. Frank’s hands smoothed down your body respectfully, landing on the junction between the small of your back and your waist. When your calves began to quake from standing on your toes, you regretfully pulled yourself away from Frank.
You looked up at him, wide nervous eyes waiting to see his reaction. Waiting to watch him head for the door again because maybe he’d made up his mind already. Waiting to hear him tell you this was wrong and you couldn’t continue. Waiting to hear him say you had somehow misinterpreted what he had said.
But he did none of those.
Instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, a surprising gentleness behind the desperation of his touch. Your hands came to the side of his face as your lips met again, deep and passionate. Years of affection for the man swelled in your heart, overwhelming your senses with nothing but Frank. Your brain short-circuited and you almost lost track of the world around you.
Frank’s large body pressed into yours, his weight pressing you backwards as he pulled your waist into his body deeply and throwing you off balance. He walked with you, supporting your stumbling weight before you butted up against the counter. Frank’s hands snaked under your thighs, encompassing the flesh tightly and lifting you with ease, so much so that it surprised you even with his incredibly muscular build. He set you on the cool countertop but you clung to him tightly still, pulling him in by his shirt and feeling his muscles ripple beneath your touch.
At this new height, Frank’s pelvis now rutted against your core with every shift and rock of your bodies. Frank groaned when you rocked your hips against his impressive bulge but then he stopped moving, his hands gripping the tops of your thighs like he was restraining himself. His forehead rested against yours and his eyes squeezed shut tight. Frank shook his head and he panted out, voice deep and gruff, “I-I don’t want to hurt you.”
You pulled back and looked up at him confused, “You’re not gonna hurt me.”
“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he clarified, his fingers coming up to brush your arms so softly, careful as if you were porcelain that would crack under the slightest pressure.
“I’m an adult now. I have been for several years. If you feel uncomfortable doing this, I understand and we can stop but…” you paused for a moment, taking a shaky breath, “I’ve liked you for a long long time Frank, and I’d like to continue… if you’ll have me.”
He exhaled sharply and glanced at the ground with a smirk of disbelief, “If I’ll have you? I’d have to be stupid to say no.”
“Then kiss me,” you looked up at him through thick lashes that did nothing to conceal the way your doe eyes bore unapologetically into Frank’s own. You were done hiding your feelings for him. There was no reason to anymore.
Frank tilted his jaw, pressing his lips against yours with so much care, so much reverence, so much respect. Like you were the most important thing in his life. It was different from your last few kisses. Before it was hot and sudden and wrong. Now Frank saw a beautiful woman whom he cared about so deeply and who he knew understood him and his pain because she was the only other person who had been there that day that was still alive. And this beautiful woman who deserved so much in this world was begging him to kiss her.
The way Frank gently slipped his tongue between your lips knocked the wind from your chest. Never had you been kissed like this before. Never had a person held you with so much care. Your fingers scrunched against the short hair on the back of his head, pulling him close and never wanting to let him go. As you did so, you leaned your body back, using your soft hands on his face to gently guide him along but a large hand slid up your thigh and splayed across your back, supporting your back.
“Uh-uh,” he hummed in protest against your lips and shook his head, pulling back and looking down at you with furrowed brows.
“What?” You asked with concern, propping yourself up with a hand on the counter behind you though it was unnecessary as Frank had you fully supported.
His hands slipped down to your ass and used it to pull your body off the counter. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips and you clung to him as he carried you off to your bedroom, knowing where it was as your apartment mirrored his. “I’m not just gonna fuck you on the kitchen counter,” Frank said, his voice pure gravelly sex.
Expecting to be thrown on the mattress, you braced yourself but instead you were set down gently only to be crawled over slowly. Frank’s lips graced the bit of skin that showed from where your shirt had come untucked from your pants. His fingers released the buttons one by one, kissing each inch of skin as it was revealed until your bra was exposed.
You propped yourself up and shrugged the cloth from your shoulders. You reached down and lifted Frank’s shirt up, only to be assisted by Frank pulling it up and over his head. Your mouth fell as you saw the scars that decorated his body. Large misshapen islands of flesh, some raised, some sunken, were scattered across his chest and his arms.
Your fingers gingerly traced over what you could only assume was a bullet wound on the front part of shoulder. Just as your middle finger made contact with his skin, Frank’s hand encompassed your much smaller one with ease and pressed your palm flat onto an unscarred part of his pectoral. The weight of his hand pushing yours deeper into his skin made the thumping of his heart vivid against your palm.
He looked down at where your skin met and then to your eyes that were admiring his body, muscles and scars and all. You looked at him like he was worthy of being loved and not just like a murderer.
With your hand staying in place, you shifted up onto your knees and you pressed your lips to every disfigurement in sight, starting low and working your way up to a final peck on his forehead. Frank’s eyes slid closed, no longer familiar with such a gentle touch and desperate to feel it in its entirety because otherwise he’d convince himself it wasn’t there.
With Frank’s eyes still closed, you pressed a final kiss to his lips. He breathed you in, his hand on yours holding you tight while his other scooped your lower back to press you back down to the mattress. His knees pinned you between his legs as his lips assaulted yours. Slowly, his calloused fingertips ghosted over the tops of your breasts, goosebumps pebbling in their wake. His short nails gently scratched your soft skin as he pulled the cup of your bra down, grazing your nipples as he did so.
Frank’s lips moved to your neck, short stubble scratching deliciously against your sensitive skin. While two of his fingers gently twisted and rolled your left bud, his other hand groped the other with expertise. A high sound of ecstasy slipped from your lips.
Your hands moved to tangle in his hair, finding it too short to be satisfying so you pulled at the broad muscular expanse of his back. “Frank-” you moaned breathily.
The more your hands explored each others’ bodies, the more Frank rutted his hips against your core. It was close but not quite enough for you.
You lifted your body, keeping Frank close as you did so. At the angle Frank rose with you, you were able to twist and lift your leg over the backs of his own. In actual combat, Frank would have easily stopped the action but he flowed with your movement, allowing you to roll the pair of you so that you now straddled his body.
The bulge restrained in his jeans was clear, although you didn’t need to see it to know. Your hands moved to his belt, undoing it and pulling it free from the loops of his jeans. You slid his zipper down and he sighed as some of the pressure was finally released. He lifted his hips to help you pull his jeans from his body, leaving him in black boxer-briefs that left little to the imagination.
You stood from the bed and shimmied your own pants and underwear to the floor before crawling back atop him, running your hands over his growing erection and back down again. You squeezed him through the cotton and his hips bucked into your hand.
Frank watched you in pure bliss as you reached behind you and unclasped your bra, throwing it to the side. You sat over him, core glistening wet and ready to be adored, breasts perfect and free. Your lips were swollen and your eyes were dark when they flickered from his dick to meet his burning gaze.
Finally, you released his member, hardly surprised at his impressive size. Frank was a large man and this part of him was no exception.
You crawled up his body, knees resting on either side of his hips. As you lowered your lips to his neck, you ground your hips back, your slick rubbing along his length. Now that you had skin on skin contact, small jolts of pleasure began to spark when his smooth head bumped against your clit.
After a few minutes of grinding against his length, you reached between your bodies and took his erection in your hand. A coat of wetness that had dripped from you made it easy for your hand to glide along his skin as you pumped him. Carefully, you guided him to your entrance, rubbing his tip along your slit, teasing your own clit before lowering down onto him.
Frank’s fingers dug into the flesh of your back and it took everything in his being to keep his eyes from closing - he just needed to see the way your face contorted in pleasure as you sank down. After a few test movements, you leaned forward, bracing yourself on your elbow beside Frank’s head while your other held his face. His knees bent behind you, your ass slapping against his thighs as you picked up pace.
A low moan rolled from your throat. At this angle, he stimulated every delicious spot inside of you and your clit rubbed against his lower stomach in a way that caused your muscles to spasm around Frank.
He grunted animalistically every time your walls fluttered around him. Frank was lost in you. Your body was so soft and delicate in comparison to his, encompassing him physically and emotionally in a cocoon of warmth he never wanted to leave.
Your body began to ache. Your thighs burned but the coil inside of you had just begun to wind up and you were not about to lose it. Frank felt the quake in your legs and rescued you when his hands gripped your hips and started moving your body.
Your face twisted in pleasure and your head fell in the crook of his neck. Your hot breath came out in pants as you bit on his shoulder to restrain your high pitched squeals of pleasure. The way his calloused hands squeezed your soft ass just augmented the pleasure in your core.
“Frank,” you whined loudly, toes curling.
Frank knew exactly what your whine meant. He could feel how close you were getting and he was right there with you. “You close?” He asked, his growl breaking down any barriers you had in the way between you and your orgasm.
“Mhm!” You squealed, nodding against his skin, “‘M so close, Frank.”
He began to thrust up into you, meeting your hips as he pushed them back. All that could be heard was skin on skin, heavy breathing, and desperate sounds of pleasure. You clenched around him, driving him close to the brink himself but he held back, wanting to prolong this moment. “Let go, sweetheart,” he growled in encouragement in your ear, the vibrations of his voice in his chest resonating through your own chest that had collapsed him.
“Oh my-” you were cut off by your orgasm crashing through your body. Wave after wave of pleasure rocked through your body and if your arms hadn’t already given out, they would have now.
Frank stroked you through your orgasm but knew he needed to pull out of the vice grip that became your body if he had any chance of not busting inside of you. Once your body began to relax again, he used minimal effort to roll you over, supporting your weight as he did so, and slipped out of you. He stroked his length hard and fast, squeezing tighter at the head.
One more look at you, breasts rising and falling with each breath, your hair messily muttered across the pillows, your thighs shiny with drying wetness, your lips plump and moist, was all it took. Frank busted in his hand with a restrained groan, painting your stomach in warm white ribbons in spurt after spurt of his release.
The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, his hands coming to rest on your splayed thighs and your hand in your hair as you tried to slow your breathing. Without warning, Frank stood up, the true glory of his broad muscular body coming into full view, shining with a thin layer of sweat. He disappeared into the bathroom just outside your room and returned with a warm damp washcloth. “‘M sorry,” he apologized as he wiped his cum from your skin.
“Why?” You propped yourself up on one elbow and watched with fucked-out curiosity. You flinched a little when the rag got close to your still sensitive core but also because this tender act of cleaning you off was new.
“Because,” he started before wiping his hands off on the same rag, “I don’t know… it just felt rude to do that… y’know, on you.”
You giggled, “Well, I’d rather you do iton me thanin me or on my sheets. It’s a lot easier to take a shower than it is to fix those other two problems.”
Frank tossed the rag into the pile of clothes on the floor, a problem better left for later. You scooted up to the pillows and folded the sheets down on his side of the bed, signaling for him to join you beneath them. He did without hesitation, sliding beside you and facing you. You lied on your side and looked up at him, head resting on your arm.
Gosh, he was beautiful and he treated you so well. Your teenage jealousy had been right: if he treated Maria this way, she was such a lucky woman.
“Well this is certainly not how I saw today going…” you commented with a small chuckle.
He inhaled deeply and nodded, “Yeah, me neither.”
There was a pause before you admitted quietly, “I’m glad you’re okay, Frank…. When I heard that you’d died, I was devastated.”
Frank watched as your face fell at the mere thought of losing him and he instinctively wrapped his arm around you. “‘M not going anywhere,” he reassured, kissing the top of your head.
You burrowed closer into his body, not realizing how starved for his touch you still were. Frank’s body radiated heat, warming your bare form. The scent of his cologne swirled with his own musk and the detergent on your sheets to dance around your senses, making you want to curl up in this spot with nothing but Frank and never leave. The two of you had been through so much together that, far beyond your immature teenage fantasies, it felt natural that it would come down to the both of you like this, holding each other tightly as you drifted off to sleep.
