☰ ⸝⸝ ⸝⸝ ⋆.˚ ⤷ FRANK CASTLE 𓇢𓆸 ‧₊˚ ⋆⑅˚₊
the alleyway was never meant to be a shortcut. subtle raindrops fell onto you, and the city lights disappeared right behind you as you continued to walk along the dark pathway. the dimly-lit street lamps blinked and shone against the small puddles on the floor. the cold breeze gently hugged your skin, giving you a slight comfort. as you go on, your eyes caught on the twinkling stars above your head. a smile curled upon your face as you mesmerize them.
wait… what was that?
you just heard another set of footsteps and voices, you swore that they weren't yours. you stopped yourself from walking then silence did not linger in the alleyway. then, you heard screaming and groans. they were filled with agony and extreme pain. your pulse quickened and your breath accelerated. you absolutely did not want to find out what was happening. yet your impulsive decisions insisted. you carefully stepped closer and peaked from the brick wall where the noise was coming from. your body stayed still under the shadows until the view you were looking for came into play. there was a towering man dressed in all black and four other men laid on the surface bloodied.
“please, i’m innocent!” a thug groaned in response of the mysterious man’s punch. and another punch. then, the man grabbed the badly-injured one by the collar of his shirt and kicked him by the wall. you audibly gasped by the scene you just watched. it was too audible that the man noticed you. his head swiftly turned his head toward you, and a breath caught in your throat.
your body turned and gradually took steps backward. you had taken barely three steps before a strong hand grabbed you by your shoulder. everything happened in a quick pace when your world began to spin. you were thrown hard against the wall, making the pain bloomed across your back. then his hand wrapped around your throat. your eyes widened. his grip was firm—it was as if no one could ever have a chance of escaping from him.
“you with them, huh?” the man in front of you asked with such anger in his voice.
while you struggled to properly breathe, your eyes dropped to his chest. a white skull painted across his black shirt weakly glowed. frank castle. it was your boyfriend all along.
“fuckin’ speak. you a spy or some?” frank growled.
you shook your head. you tried to speak, but only a strained breath escaped from your strangled throat. you choked out his name—it was barely a rasp. yet his expression never changed. he remained cold and emotionless. panic surged all over your body as you grabbed at frank’s wrist to pull his strangle away. then, a ring shone in front of him. the very ring he gave to you as an anniversary gift.
“it can’t be.”
“...sweetheart?” he mumbled when his hand released your throat hastily. you coughed hard and took deep pants while putting your palm against the bricked wall. meanwhile, your boyfriend stared at you in horror. while your eyes watered from continuous coughing, you looked up to him.
“wow, really? calling me sweetheart after all that?” you managed to speak out loud between gasps and breaths. frank cupped and scanned your face for possible wounds or injuries. then, he lifted your head. his brown eyes gazed and his thumbs brushed along your neck that was faintly marked by his hands. his jaw tightened by his view. frank loathed seeing you hurt. especially when he was the reason for it.
“baby, ‘m sorry. ‘m so sorry.”
“i’ll get ya some ice when we get home.” he quietly plead. it was an unusual sighting of frank castle acting this way. well, you got used to it. while he further checked your body, your eyes drew to the criminals he bloodily fought.
“what about ‘em?”
“oh, who gives a fuck ‘bout them?” frank sarcastically responded to your inquiry. he pecked your forehead with such gentleness then slipped his hand to yours. this moment, he promised to himself not to let go.
“c’mon, let’s get us home.”
𓂃✍︎ satineves @ 2026. all pictures and graphics belong to the rightful and proper owners. i do not condone any forms of copying, stealing, and reposting of my work.
