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the-weird-bisexual · 1 month ago

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Frank castle x female reader!shape shifter

What if instead of finding Max the dog at the Kitchen Irish's place, he found you?

A/n: I wrote this instead of finishing any of my wips 😂

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You wake with a jolt, the sudden movement briefly shocking your ears as it causes a chain to loudly jangle around your neck. You quickly reach up to where it's fastened by a padlock around a thick dog collar at your neck, it's loose on you now that you've shifted back but the feeling of being chained makes your hackles rise. You're aware of bruises and cuts on your limbs and side and they sting as you move stiffly from lying down to sitting, there's a faint smell of antiseptic. Someone has cleaned your wounds while you were out.

Your eyes dart around in the darkness of the unfamiliar place you're in, an apartment you guess, but somehow the scents are familiar…

You can pick out gunpowder, gun oil, the muted smell of dried blood. As your eyes adjust you can see a table strewn with various weapons, ammo, tools and other paraphernalia, as well as a police radio receiver. Realisation dawns on you all too late as you hear the sound of heavy boots and then a key turning in the lock, throwing your aching and naked body as far back into the shadows and away from the door as the chain will allow as the door softly creaks open.

He doesn't notice anything amiss at first, throwing a duffle bag on the floor under the table then rooting around in the small kitchenette seemingly to make coffee.

His large dark form moves around purposefully, head still covered by his hood as he grabs a mug and then freezes. You hold your breath and clench your teeth as he turns around, painfully slowly, with something held tight in his other fist.

Utter confusion mixed with a tinge of fear and suspicion passes over his features as he locks eyes with you, a woman, where there once just hours ago was a whining dog. You're dirty, naked and carrying the same injuries he had tended to as best he could when he had brought the dog back here after rescuing it from those Irish assholes.

He didn't hurt you when you were a dog, but that didn't mean anything now that you were human. Hurting and killing other humans was this guy's speciality.

You remain still, staring back at him as he considers his next move. Your human nails and teeth are unfortunately no match for the arsenal of weapons that are within his reach, but that worry vanishes when he merely picks up a spare hoodie from a chair and throws it at you.

“Here.” You catch and clutch the clothing to your body, it smells like him. He slowly lowers his hood. “M’gonna take that chain off you now, alright? I won't hurt you, but you gonna bite me if I get close?”

His voice is like burnt gravel but his body language tells you he's open and unguarded as he waits for your consent to approach. You know he's still got a knife on him.

“Depends,” you reply, your voice cracked and hoarse from disuse. “only if you give me a reason to.”

He shrugs. “Ain't plannin’ on it.”

You catch his eyes again, dark brown and curious as he waits for you to decide, then you finally angle your head so he can access the padlock on the collar and take it off.

Once he steps back you pull the hoodie over you, it's big enough to cover your ass and you're glad of its warmth.

“You want some coffee?” He asks.

You nod, you wouldn't mind a full cooked breakfast to go with it but you don't imagine this guy has much else in the fridge going by the look of the place.

“You don't seem surprised…” You say.

“That you ain't actually a dog? I guess I've just seen my fair share of weird shit in this place.”

He hands you a mug and tries to find you somewhere more comfortable to sit amongst all the mess.

“Either way, couldn't leave you there in that fuckin’ shit hole.” He growls at the mere thought of it, and you shiver thinking of it too.

“Thank you for taking me with you. You didn't have to.”

He scoffs as if it was ever a choice.

“You alright? Bathrooms right there if you need to wash up or anythin’.”

“No, thanks. I'm okay…?”

“Frank.” He replies at the inflection in your voice. You nod, despite already knowing who he is, you just needed him to say it himself. He doesn't ask for your name but you give him it anyway. It's clear by now he doesn't mean you any harm.

“You got somewhere to go back to?” He inquires, taking a sip from his cup.

“I uh-” you try to think how long it's been since you last paid rent on your shitty place before the Irish had caught you and made you fight other actual dogs for money and their own sick amusement.

“It's alright, crash here if you need to, till you get somethin' sorted out. I got another place.”

And that's how you ended up living with the Punisher in his ‘other place’, he felt it was too rough just leaving you to get on with it in the hideout, and you didn't argue. He got you some temporary clothes from the thrift store and gave you some cash so you could shop for what you needed. You didn't ask where the money came from although you had your suspicions. Your scratches and bites healed up fairly quickly, the deepest ones he had stitched himself and helped you change the dressings regularly so you didn't need to go to urgent care and have all the wrong questions asked.

“So, how long you been a weredog, huh?”

You can't help the cackle that bursts out of you at the situation you're in, sitting on Frank Castle's couch eating takeout pizza about to have the weirdest conversation he's probably ever had in his life.

“Shifter.” You correct him. “I can control when I change, I think that's the main difference.”

Frank just nods, listening to you intently.

“and obviously when I do I'm a dog, not a giant half-wolf half human.”

He smiles at that, “Yeah, y'know things might’ve gone down different if that was the way.”

He's pondering something before he speaks again.

“When I uh, rescued you, I kinda fussed and petted you… I just wanna say I'm sorry for doin' anything you didn't ask for.”

You smile and shake your head. “How could you have known? And besides, I don't mind it. It's nice.”

His brows raise, a tiny bit of colour dusting his face. “Yeah?”

You shrug and chuckle. “Yeah, you mean you don't like being petted and fussed over?”

Frank looks away, it amazes you that he looks almost bashful now especially as you've witnessed him in full bloody rage. “Heh, guess it depends who's doin' the fussin’.”

You nod and smile, and the silence returns but it doesn't feel awkward.

“Does it hurt you…when you ‘shift’?” He asks finally.

“Uh, it feels a little weird, but I'm kinda used to it now. Been doing it since puberty though I guess.”

He slaps his hand to his face. “Wow. That's a hell of a thing to get hit with at that age when you're dealing with enough shit as it is. You got people that know? Family, friends?”

You deflate a little at that question. You didn't know your birth family, you even didn't know any other shifters despite searching for most of your life for them.

“I keep it fairly private, it makes things simpler.”

He nods again. You can see he's itching to ask something else. You don't mind, you haven't had as candid a conversation with anyone since...

“Go on, what else do you wanna know?”

Frank scratches at the two day old stubble on his chin and neck.

“Just wonderin’, how come you changed back at my place if you wanted to keep it on the down low? I wouldn't have kept you chained up forever, you coulda got away.”

“Sometimes, if I'm really tired or hurt, I'll slip back because I'm not able to control it.” Or if it's someone I trust, you think to yourself.

His face as he's listening to you is so intense, he's the second person you've explained this to and he's treating you with so much respect. It's almost overwhelming compared with your daily experience of the people of this city. It's a relief to share your 'condition' with someone else.

“I won't tell anybody, you got my word on that.”

“Thanks, you've already done so much for me, I owe you.”

Frank shakes his head putting up his hands. “Nah you don't owe me nothin’. Can't stand seein' animals gettin’ hurt, doesn't matter if there's actually a girl under there.”

You get up and go to the window, gazing out at the blur of coloured lights through the rainy pane of glass.

“I was thinking, I could help you.” You tell him, turning back. He's looking at you with those big brown eyes but his brows are narrowing so you keep going so he won't have a chance to shut you down because you know he will try.

“I can scope out the places you need to hit, tell you how many people there are, what they're packing. I've got a crazy good sense of smell, I can find people for you. And I can fight-”

“No.”

“Whatever it is you're doing, I know it's for a good reason, and I can be of help. It's the least I can do. Let me.”

“Jesus, you don't know that, you don't know anything about me.” His voice has bite, a warning that you're getting too close to the bone.

“I told you you can stay for as long as you need till you get back on your feet but you ain't getting into any of my shit, you hear me? It's mine to deal with, I won't have anybody else gettin' hurt cos of me.”

“I only got trapped because I was stupid, desperate. That won't happen again, I won't let it. C'mon Frank, you know I can give you a real advantage.”

“No, I'm tellin' you-”

Then he doesn't know where to look as you shift form right in front of him, your clothes sloughing off you like a skin until you're down on four paws looking up at him. You start to growl, your hackles raised, baring your teeth, barking loudly.

The Punisher shrinks back just a hair at your display. “Aw c'mon now don't do that…”

One more growl for good measure and then you stop, lick your lips and give him the most powerful puppy eyes you can muster, your tail wagging slowly as you pad towards him where he sits on the couch.

He can't help himself from reaching out to scratch your head and stroke your fur and you swish your tail even more.

“Fuck. Goddamit, that ain't fair.”

You nuzzle into his hand for more and he snorts, amused.

“Jesus christ, alright. I guess you can help. Hey!” He chuckles as you give him a slobbery lick up the side of his face. This new partnership was going to be a lot of fun.

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