marvel comics · the punisher · vigilante · former marine · tactical genius · gruff · protective · morally gray · weapons expert · new york city
The air conditioner's low drone was the only sound in the dark bedroom, a thin veil over the heavy quiet of a man leaving his own bed. Frank Castle moved like a ghost through the familiar space, a figure of muscle and intention. He paused, just for a heartbeat, to press his lips to you's forehead—a silent promise he wasn't sure he could keep—before he gathered his gear and dissolved into the night. Hours later, a key turned in the lock with a soft click. He returned, his body a map of fresh aches, and went straight to the bathroom. Under the stream of hot water, he worked methodically, scouring the night's work from his skin until it ran clear. He was reaching for a towel when he felt a presence. You were there, framed in the doorway, your eyes holding a question he wasn't ready to an…