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bubuslutty · 10 months

Text

Skin & Bones

Frank Castle's masterlist

pairing: frank castle x skinny!fem reader (platonic or romantic? who knows)

word count: 1.5k

tags: fluff, 3rd person pov, she/her pronouns, reader is referred to as darling/Frank's darling, insecurities, body image, poc friendly, sfw

warnings: none

summary: Frank's darling is petite, skinny, scrawny, whatever you want to call her. Frank can easily break her in half if he wanted. She might be strong and incredibly intelligent, but nobody is absolutely safe from feeling insecure from time to time.

a/n: uhhh I wrote this cuz I was feeling insecure abt the way I looked, I don't feel that way a lot but sometimes I do and I hate it. and I just wanted to write Frank to provide some comfort to reader. that's all 💙

Everyone has insecurities. Some more than others. Some know how to cope with them, and others don't. And God help you if you were a woman born into this world, because every made up insecurity under the sun will be shoved down your throat, or they will try at least, to make you feel like shit and buy whatever product they're claiming will change your life and solve all of your problems.

Frank noticed a lot of things, and lately he's been noticing how his darling stares a bit too long at the women around them.

He hears her sigh once in a while when she's alone, and he watches how her smiles start to dim and how much quieter she becomes, lost in her thoughts.

He notices how her eyes sparkle and shine in admiration and awe when they're hanging out with Karen. And he sure does hear her ramble and talk about how beautiful and cool Karen is when they're in the car, on their way home.

But then she would lock herself in her room and he wouldn't hear a single sound from her, except when he knocks on her door to call her to come and eat.

His darling, so intelligent and pretty, who, in his eyes, belongs in a painting, hung in a Museum, rather than with him, stained with blood and dirt, the ghosts of every person he's killed attached to him like a disease.

And yet, here she is, helping him take out any scum they believed needed to be gone. She investigates, looks for clues, interrogates before he goes to interrogate whoever they're holding captive, hacks whatever needs to be hacked, orders new weapons and ammunition and is the face of their little weird twisted family. She's the one who speaks at the bank when they need to open another account under fake identities. She's the one who sweet talks them out of sticky situations without having him break someone's nose or windpipe. She's the one who negotiates for their benefit.

But she's also the one who's used as bait to catch killers with fetishes, predators and disgusting scums. She's the one who distracts and deceives while Frank is handing out tickets to the afterlife like free sweets behind her smile, staining the back of her legs and slim neck with fresh blood.

And when they're all done for the day, she helps stitch him up, helps clean up their equipment, cooks something to eat when she has a bit of energy, and on days she can't get herself to make anything, she orders them something nice to eat.

More often than not, they'll end up on the sofa, in fresh pajamas and eating while watching a random show, and then Frank would fall asleep and his head would roll to the side, resting on her shoulder. Darling would pet his dark short hair and slowly push his heavy head away, and try to wake him up so he'll sleep on his bed instead.

This is just a glimpse of what their life consists of, but let's all come back to the beginning; insecurities.

Frank's darling is petite, skinny, scrawny, whatever you want to call her. She's shorter than him, her arms are long and he can hold both of her wrists with one hand with ease, he could practically break her if he wanted.

On most days, she was comfortable in her skin, making peace with the fact that no matter what she ate, or how much she ate, her body remained the same. Sometimes she would bang her hip bone with a table and hiss, and sometimes she wouldn't be able to open things or support the weight of certain guns with one hand alone, and that was alright, because Frank was there to do it for her. There were many things Frank could do, but also a lot of things he couldn't do.

Frank would notice how annoyed she becomes when they're out shopping for clothes, and no pair of jeans would fit around her waist, infuriating her. But that was alright, he would grab her hand and walk straight to the next store, to get her a pair of jeans that would fit as intended.

Even bulletproof vests have to be tightened a lot, especially when she has to wear one, but no worries, Frank would be there to adjust the size for her when need be.

"Hey," Frank knocked on her bedroom's door, which was already wide open.

Darling looked up from her position on the bed, she was curled up in the middle against the headboard, wrapped in a blanket and hugging one of her pillows to her chest. And Frank could practically smell the upset oozing out of her.

"Frank?" She said in a quiet voice, smiling a bit.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course."

Darling scooted a bit to the side and allowed Frank to sit next to her, making sure his boots didn't touch her clean bedsheets, staying on the ground.

"What's wrong?" He asked, not looking at her, instead at the random clothes and objects scattered around her room.

"Nothing really, just feeling a bit weird that's all." She shrugged, hugging her pillow closer to her chest.

"Hm, weird." Frank repeated, nodding once and scratching his chin.

"Yeah, just… feeling weird." She repeated, glancing at him.

"D'you wanna talk about it?" He offered, now properly turning his head to look straight at her, his eyes showing nothing but safety, Frank’s safe, he's safe-

Darling thought about it for a long time and nodded, pressing her body closer to his, trying to hide somehow. And he threw an arm over her shoulder, squeezing her tight against him.

"Do you– Do you think I'm pretty?" She whispered and Frank was a bit taken back.

"Of course," Frank said without hesitation.

Darling looked at him without saying anything, and sighed, "Are you saying that because you're a gentleman or do you really mean it? It's alright, I won't be offended if you don't think so, because I still will be more good looking than you, at least."

Frank cracked a smile and chuckled, "I'm being honest, I think you're very pretty, I won't lie to you."

"Okay," Darling whispered, nodding, "But do you think I'm too skinny?..."

Now, Frank frowned at that, "What's wrong with being skinny?"

"I don't know? Maybe because I'm not that strong, I'm not really– I'm not really curvy like most women and I don't know– Maybe I want to be a bit bigger?-" Darling rambled, avoiding eye contact with him and fiddling with her fingers.

"Beautiful, the way you look doesn't matter unless it affects your health, trust me." Frank said, cupping one of her cheeks and turning her face so he could make her look at him.

"I know, but sometimes I wished I had bigger hips, y'know? Maybe more fat under my skin, and maybe I wanted bigger boobs as well? I feel so much smaller and like- like puberty skipped me or something! And it's unfair! I want to look like other women as well-" Darling said, eyes shining with unshed tears as Frank watched her panic and hold her head in her hands as if that was an absolute catastrophe to have skinny hips and small boobs.

"Come on, stop with that bullshit." Frank gently scolded.

"You know it's true, Karen is so beautiful, she's so stunning and I look like a teenage boy." Darling said, now actually crying.

Frank's heart dropped a bit and he immediately collected her in his arms, rubbing her back in an attempt to sooth her.

"Let me tell you something, you're perfect just the way you are. Your body is constantly changing, you won't stay the same forever, you know that, right?" Frank said against her temple as she clutched tight onto his black t-shirt.

"I know, but it still makes me feel like shit sometimes. I know it's stupid-" She cried against his chest, feeling even worse because her periods are due in a couple of days. So she couldn't tell if she did really feel that insecure or if the feelings were amplified by hormones.

"It's not stupid. Everyone has shit they're insecure about, but you need to know that whatever you're insecure about is just a bunch of bullshit. Nobody cares if you're not curvy, if someone likes you, they'll like whatever you look like." Frank said, patting her back.

"But what if I don't find someone that'll like me because they think I'm too skinny?" Darling whispered.

"Now that's stupid." Frank scoffed, "You won't even speak to anyone who'll prioritize the way your body looks over what's in that brain, baby."

Frank's darling's crying was now reduced to small sniffles against his chest and she slowly looked up at him, wet eyelashes, runny nose and all.

"The only thing that I like about being skinny is that you can carry me like a suitcase so I don't have to walk." She said, shyly cracking a smile when Frank laughed, "Attagirl,"

"That's my girl, you're beautiful and smart, don't let anyone try to make you think otherwise, or I'll kidnap them and their kids." Frank said, making her burst out laughing.

"Not the kids!"

"Not the kids." Frank chuckled and placed a kiss to the crown of her head, smiling in her hair and vowing to punch anyone's esophagus if they ever made his girl feel insecure about her looks.

His darling might have bony arms, a tiny waist and a bit of the outline of her ribcage can be seen everytime she stretched. She can have bony hips and hit herself against tables once in a while, no flesh or meat cushioning her hipbone. But he doesn't give a shit what she looks like.

Because he knows how beautiful she looks when she's not looking at herself in a mirror or toying with her fingers and thinking about what ifs.

He loves that she can easily wrap herself around him, like a baby koala, with her long limbs, and sleep against him. He loves that she can practically fit in many tight places that he can't fit in, so that's more places to keep her safe when shit hits the fan.

He loves that many of her opponents underestimate what she can do, resulting more often that not, in their death.

He loves how different they are, yet so similar in certain things. They both want to get rid of shitty people the justice system struggles to hold accountable. They both share a drive to survive that is completely outmatched, he'll claw his way to hell and so will she.

Frank wishes that he could help her understand the way he sees her, but he doesn't think he's that good at expressing what he really means. So as long as she's fine by his side, so is he.

thank you for reading 💙

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