πππ βπ£π πππ€π€ππ πππ - Part two
Part ONE
Pairing:Β Frank Castle (The Punisher) Γ f!Reader (Bruce Banner's Daughter)
Summary:Β When Damage Control is hunting you for the technology you helped create, Spider-Man entrusts your safety to the last man you'd ever choose as a roommate: Frank Castle.
Word Count:Β 3.7k
Tags/Warnings:Β Age gap (Reader is 28, Frank is in his mid-forties), forced proximity, slow burn, swearing, grumpy Frank, angst, reader gets injured, Frank gets injured, smut (later in the story), violence, NSFW (18+)
Author's Note:Β This story is based on the events ofΒ Spider-Man: Brand New Day. Read at your own risk if you haven't seen it yet, as it contains spoilers. Some events follow canon, while others have been modified for the sake of the story.
Also, this is my first published fanfiction, and English isn't my first language, so please bear with me <3
π§ This fic is named after "Professional" by The Weeknd. I highly recommend listening to it while reading
βπππ‘π₯ππ£ π
You splash cold water on your face after waking up. You slept better than last night, but you were still sore from the past few days' events and had tossed and turned most of the night with anxiety.
You put your hair up in a messy bun and go straight to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. You pour yourself a cup while absently looking out the window.
"Leave me some," says a deep voice behind you.
You jump, almost dropping your cup. You raise a hand to your chest, trying to calm your racing heartbeat."Jesus," you mutter.
You'd actually assumed he would be gone by the time you got up, like yesterday. But he was still there, stretched out on his couch.
"You gotta evaluate your surroundings better before you step into a room," he says.
His eyes drop to your bare legs. Shit.
Thinking you would be alone, you'd walked out of your room wearing nothing but his oversized T-shirt. You instinctively cross your arms over your chest, trying to hide your nipples poking through the fabric.
He says nothing, just stares at you, making you feel the need to fill the silence.
"...Right. I'll take your advice, thanks. And thank you for the shirt. It's very comfortable and, um... clean."
You mentally curse yourself. You really needed to stop rambling every time you felt uncomfortable.
"Well, I'm gonna leave you to it. I'll be in my room."
"You can stay," he finally says, tearing his gaze off of your body. "I was gonna leave anyway."
He gets up and gathers his things.
FRANK
Frank needed to get out of here. He wasn't used to having somebody in his home anymore, not after living alone for⦠a lot of years.
When Spider-Man brought you to his door, he was going to say no. He really was. But then you looked at him with those hopeful Bambi eyes, and somehow, he suddenly lost the ability to refuse anything.
He regretted it immediately. He couldn't do this again. Couldn't protect someone. Couldn't watch someone he cared about get hurt. Not again. Since the death of his family, it had been him against everyone else. He didn't want friends. They were a waste of time and a risk he couldn't afford.
But that Spider-Man kid was naive. Too young. He reminded Frank of his son. He would've been around the same age. His protective instincts kicked in, no matter how hard he fought them.
And you⦠you were something else. Smart little thing, for sure. But absolutely no survival instinct whatsoever. He couldn't let you down.
When you entered the room that morning, he hated himself for looking at you. At your body. You were young. Way too young.
You looked so damn pretty, like an angel. Seeing you in his shirt instantly woke up something animalistic in him. Possessive. He didn't like it.
Of course he'd noticed how beautiful you were the first time he'd laid eyes on you. But that had been nothing more than a fact. He wasnβt one of those guys, going after young women.
When he'd given you the shirt, he hadn't thought much of it. It had just seemed like the decent thing to do. It had even bothered him a little, having to go out of his way to make you comfortable, when you were the one invading his privacy.
But he'd done it anyway. For God knew what reason.
And now he regretted it. He felt like a fucking creep. That's why he needed to get out of there. Put some distance between you and him. Forget what he'd seen.
And never think about it again.
YOUΒ
You sit at the table, sipping your coffee and waiting for him to leave.
"Come with me," he says. "I'mma show you something."
Surprised, you wipe your mouth for any coffee remains and follow him as he leads you through the corridor. He opens a room you haven't seen yet. It's a rather large room full of computer screens. They show footage of the boat and the entire warehouse. Security cameras.
"I'll be back later today. While I'm gone, I need you to keep an eye on the cameras."
He motions for you to step closer and points to one of the screens.
"This is where any alert would appear. You'll hear it even if you're in another room."He looks back at you, expecting an answer.
"...Yeah. Got it." You nod.
"If the alarm goes off, you lock the boat down immediately. Have I made myself clear?"
You nod again.
"Words. I need to hear you repeat it."
You gulp. "Understood. If the alarm goes off, I lock the doors from this screen."
He grunts, clearly not impressed. "Now, most of the doors are automatically locked, including the front door. If you need to unlock itβand that's only if your little friend Spider-Man comesβyou'll need the combination."
He motions for you to stand in front of the main screen, then steps behind you to guide your hand over the mouse. His faint cologne surrounds you.
"Click here, then enter the code."He spells it out for you and guides your hand toward the keyboard. "Hit enter."
A sharp, high-pitched tone immediately sounds. "Good. Now show me how to lock it back."
He's hunched above you, almost pressing against your back, making you nervous. You feel his breath on the nape of your neck and the thin fabric of the tshirt allows his body heat to seep through to your otherwise bare skin.
You clear your throat and repeat the steps he'd just shown you. Another tone tells you that you've succeeded.
"Atta girl," he says softly.
Your cheeks heats up, and you hope he can't see it. He steps back and continues explaining the last few details.
"Remember, no one enters except Spider-Man. Not your cousins, not your friends, no boyfriend either."
"Yeah, I got it," you mutter, getting annoyed.
As if anyone even knew you were here.
He hums, still not entirely convinced, but having no choice but to trust you. He finally leaves, allowing you to return to the peace and quiet of your coffee.
You spend your morning and most of the afternoon alternating between reading a book, watching TV, and keeping an eye on the security cameras.You are halfway through some leftover pasta when the alarm goes off. Your heart immediately starts racing, and you run toward the security room. You sigh in relief when you see Peter waving at the camera in his Spider suit, a big bag slung across his torso.
"Thank God," you say to yourself before entering the code to deactivate the security system.
You rush to the front door and finish unlocking it manually. "Peter, I thought I'd never see you again!" you greet him.
He looks behind you and around the room, suddenly tense.
"Relax," you reassure him. "Frank's not here."
He sighs.
"Why not tell him ?" you ask. "You seem to trust him enough."Β
You step aside and let him in.
"The less people know, the fewer people are in danger. Better that way. Trust me."
You decide not to push it. Besides, you're immediately distracted by the bag he's carrying.
"Thank goodness," you sigh, snatching it from him. "What took you so long? I had to wear the same dirty T-shirt for two days straight. Frank had to lend me this."Β You grab the fabric between your fingers.
You can almost see Peter frown through his mask."Frank lent you his T-shirt?" he asks, shock evident in his voice.
"Well, yeah. Mine got all bloody, but I digress." You wave a hand, dismissing the subject. "Did you bring my work bag too?"
He looks like he wants to push the subject further, but lets it go. "Yeah, sorry. Yesterday was hectic. I couldn't find time to stop by."
He hands you the backpack he'd been wearing, and you grab it almost adoringly.
Everything is there. Your laptop, your notebooks, your books.
"You're a lifesaver, Spidey. I could kiss you on the mouth," you say jokingly.
"No kissing on my boat."
The deep voice makes you jump. Frank has returned from his trip, his rifle slung across his shoulder and his face bloodied.
"Oh my God," you panic. "Are you alright?"
"Not mine." He simply heads straight for the bathroom, barely acknowledging Spider-Man.
"Well, someone's in a mood," Peter says.
You both decide to ignore him, and you unpack your bag while Peter updates you on the situation. He finally got a lead on the attacks, even though he doesn't want to give you the details. Your father is still detained until he's proven innocent and no longer considered a danger.
You feel terrible about not being able to help him, but Peter assures you he's doing his best to clear his name.
"Oh, and did you leave a note for Adam?" you ask.
You were positive Peter hadn't just knocked and gathered your stuff. He'd most likely snuck in while your friend was away. You'd already left without warning, but having your bag suddenly disappear from his apartment was too much.
"Yup, sure did," he says proudly, putting his hands on his hips. "I wasn't exactly inspired, though."
"Well? What did it say?"
He scratches the back of his head. "Um... something along the lines of, 'I'm safe. Don't contact the police or come looking for me.'"
You let out a nervous laugh. "Peter!β You whisper βHe's definitely going to freak out now!"
"Yeah, now that I say it out loud, it definitely sounds way more ominous than I intended."
You rub your temples, trying to come up with an idea. "Can I write another note, and you can sneak it into his place when you get the chance?"
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," he says nervously. "You can't give him too many details orβ"
"He's right. Terrible idea." Frank's voice makes you both turn.
He has just stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered. His hair is wet and drips on his forehead. He's wearing grey sweatpants and a fitted black T-shirt that makes you forget how to close your mouth for a second. God. You really need to pull yourself together.
"Any information could compromise your location and put the person in danger," Frank continues. "Your little boyfriend's gonna have to wait."
You scoff. "He's not my boyfriend ! But he took me in when I had nowhere to go. He's got the right to know at least the bare minimum."
"Your friend Spider-Man already left him a note. That's taken care of."
"Yeah, that note makes it sound like I was kidnapped!"
"Not my problem."He mutters the words before disappearing back into the security room.
βHeβs impossibleβ you complain when heβs out of hearing distance.
βYes but I fear heβs right. Too much communication could compromise the whole plan to hide you, AND put your friend in danger.β
You cross your arms and flop on the couch.Β
βYeah I get itβ¦ everything is just so frustratingβ
βI know and Iβm sorry about itβ he checks out his phone. βWell, gotta go. Will be back as soon as possible with new updates !β
You let him out and lock the door behind him.
The next couple of days, you spend your time absorbed in your work, trying to catch up on your thesis and distract yourself from the fact that your whole life was crumbling apart.
Frank had been nice enough to connect your computer through his encrypted internet connection, so you could still use the internet for your research. Spider-Man had somehow succeeded in getting word to your advisor that you'd been exposed to something while in the lab and were quarantining yourself.
You worked on perfecting the inhibitor for Peter, which was still not 100% functional. You read hundreds of research papers in search of answers, as well as your father's old notebooks. Even though you couldn't access the lab, you started designing new experiments in your notepads for when you'd be able to.
The days were quiet around Frank. You'd started recognizing his footsteps without thinking about it. The sound of a cabinet opening, the clink of a coffee mug, the scrape of a chair. You were getting used to having him around. Most days, you barely exchanged a few words.
"Coffee?"
Or:
"Night."
It suited you just fine. He wasn't the chatting type, and you were bad at small talk. In the company of your books and laptop, you could go days without speaking if you didn't have to. He sometimes passed by and picked up one of your notebooks to take a look at it.
"This mean anything?"
"Not yet."Β
And so the rest of the week passed.
On another night after a productive day, you stretch, feeling all stiff from spending so many days sitting inside on a hard chair. You get an idea and go to your room to change.
You put on some gym shorts and an old T-shirt. Then you sit on the floor to put on your sneakers.
"What are you doing?" Frank asks, while fixing God knows what dangerous piece of equipment.
"Going for a run. Can't stand being stuck inside for this long."
He straightens up all of a sudden.
"No the fuck you ain't."
"Whβ"
"You can't go outside, remember? That's the whole plan."
You shrug.
"Not going far." You point out the window. "Just running along the river."
He shakes his head.
"Not happening, kid."
βWhy ? Itβll be a short one, like 30 minutes maxβ
"Because whoever's looking for you doesn't give a shit whether it's five minutes or five hours. They catch you outside, you're a target."
You put your fists on your hips.
"Frank, please! It's been at least a week since I stepped foot outside. I need some fresh air, even if it's just for five minutes."
"You can go on the upper deck."
"You know that's not the same. I need to feel solid ground under my feet and get some exercise. I can feel my body literally shrinking."
He stays silent for a moment, so you start to make peace with the fact that he's going to say no.
"You're a pain in the ass, you know that? Fine. Let's go."
He gets up and reaches for his shoes.
"W-wait. What do you mean, 'let's go'? I'm going alone."
He scoffs.
"Yeah, right. So you can step right onto a trap and lose a leg."
"No, I won't. I'd be careful."
He shoots you a look that says I'm not even gonna respond to that.
"Either I go with you, or you don't go at all. What do you choose?"
You sigh.
"Fine."
Great. Your great plan to be alone had failed miserably.
It's not that you don't like him. He definitely has a temper, but you tolerate him well enough. You just wanted to be alone alone for this.
You get pulled out of your thoughts when he throws you a piece of clothing that you barely manage to catch.
"Cover yourself up."
You scoff.
"Really?"
"Yes, really. Pull up the hood. Keep your face covered."
"It's night. I don't see anyone else taking a stroll around an abandoned industrial dock." you complain.Β
"You don't need to see them for them to see you."
You realize that fighting him is useless and that he wonβt change his mind .You unfold the giant sweater before putting it on. It engulfs your body, falling to mid-thigh. You pull up the large hood to protect yourself from any prying eyes.
"Better?"
He gives you a head to toe look.Β
"Better."
He opens the door and gestures to you to go out.
You take a deep breath, already feeling lighter at the thought of getting outside. He secures the door and stretches for a minute before signaling for you to go.
"Follow me," he orders.
He guides you through the shipyard, past the old warehouses and rusted equipment, until you reach the riverside. Once you're clear of the buildings, he gestures for you to go ahead.
"I'll follow."
He lets you take the lead and follows you from behind, adapting to your pace. You appreciate the gesture.Β He only closes the distance when you happen to encounter people, which isn't often.
You'd never admit it to him, but you're actually glad he lent you the hoodie. Even though it's only early October, the cold night air freezes you, made worse by the humidity coming off the river.
You steal a glance in his direction from time to time. Even at night, he seems fully alert. He acts nonchalant, but you can see him constantly checking his surroundings.
The farther you get from the industrial zone, the more light and sound you hear from the city. As you step onto the riverfront service road, you get a stunning view of the skyscrapers. Across the Hudson, Manhattan glitters against the night sky, impossibly bright compared to the darkness surrounding you.
You stop for a moment to catch your breath and take in the view. For a moment, you simply stare. You'd been so focused on your father, Damage Control, your work, and staying hidden that you'd forgotten what it felt like to simply exist somewhere.
"Tired already?" Frank snarks.
"No," you reply. "Are you?"
"M'not. This is a piece of cake."
"Really?" you tease him. "You should go easy on your knees."
He cocks his head and crosses his arms.
"What, you calling me old?"
"Maybe." You smirkΒ
βCareful,β you caught him saying just before you started running again.Β
By the time you reach the shipyard again, your legs are aching and your lungs burn pleasantly. You hadn't realized how badly you'd needed this.
Once back home, you shower first and then take a bowl of leftovers to eat in front of your laptop.
Frank mentions he'll be out tonight and won't be back until morning, and you agree to keep an eye on the cameras. By now, you're used to his comings and goings.
The run has left you pleasantly tired, and your vision is getting blurry. You rub your eyes and decide to call it a night. You close your laptop and turn off all the lights. Frank is already gone.
You wake up in the middle of the night, your throat parched. You take a big gulp of water from your bottle and freeze.
You just heard a sound in the corridor.
Is that what woke you up so suddenly? You stay still, trying to figure out if there's really something there or if it's just your imagination.
You jump when you hear a door closing. Your heart starts racing. What are you supposed to do? You should go and check the cameras to see if something or someone broke in, but what if they're already inside? You have nothing to defend yourself with. Did you sleep through an alarm?
Could it just be Frank? No. He's not supposed to be back until morning. You're on your own.
You stay frozen in fear for a minute before gathering yourself enough to get up. You step into the dark, not wanting to turn on the light and get noticed. You find the door handle and slide it open as silently as possible. You carefully peek into the corridor. No one's there.
A faint light is peeking from beneath the bathroom door, barely illuminating the corridor floor. Then you notice something else. Dark drops scattered across the floor.
Blood.
Oh God. Your heart starts pounding.
You retreat to your room and force yourself to take a breath. Think. If someone had broken in, the alarm should have gone off. Unless they had already made it past the security system.
You glance toward the security room. Frank had trusted you with this. You couldn't just hide and hope for the best.
Lit by the moonlight, you sneak into the kitchen to grab a large knife. Could you fight with it? No. But it was better than nothing.
You approach the bathroom door, you place a hand on the handle and take a deep breath. You hear moans on the other side of the door, almost like a wounded animal.
You count to three and fling the door wide open, knife raised in your other hand.
Frank is hunched over the sink, panting, blood all over his temple. His eyes land on you, surprised.
His shirt was ripped open at the side, blood soaking through the fabric. There was a deep cut along his ribs, and another one disappearing beneath his shirt.
You instantly drop the knife.
"Frank," you exclaim. "I'm sorry, IβI thought someone got in."
"Yeah." He spits blood into the sink. "I did."
"Are you okay? I thought you weren't supposed to come back until morning, and Iβ"
"Get out," he says firmly.
"What? No, you need help. I know how toβ"
"I donβt need any help and especially not yours" he raised his voice.
You stumble back, shocked by his state and the roughness of his words.
"Frank, pleaseβ"
"I said GET OUT."
You close the door, holding back your tears, and stagger back into your room. Your hands are still trembling as you place the knife on the desk before sitting on the edge of your bed.
You stare at the wall for a moment, trying to process what just happened. What the hell was that?
You'd been trying to help. You'd spent years patching up your father after accidents in the lab and on the field, you'd dealt with more blood and injuries than you could remember. You weren't some helpless idiot. And yet Frank had yelled at you like you'd just made everything worse.
You wipe the tears gathering in the corner of your eyes, annoyed at yourself.You weren't even hurt by what he'd said. Not really. You barely knew the man.
Of course he didnβt have to accept your help, but that didn't excuse him being an asshole.
You crawl under the covers and pull them up to your chin, still feeling the adrenaline buzzing through your body.
Fine. If Frank Castle didn't want your help, he wouldn't get it ever again.
Thank you for the love on the first chapter everyone !! Hope you enjoyed that one as well <3
NEXT PART (tbr)
Chapters coming out on Fridays every week (hopefully)
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