Don’t you love me anymore?
— husband!Frank castle x needy!wife
Warnings: MDNI!!!, +18, piv, creampie, teasing!frank castle, fingering, if you squint dom!frank, needy!reader, it’s actually smut with a little bit of plot (just a little) , pet names, Frank castle doing push ups (is this a thing?), Frank being a bit obsessed (like usually), smut!. Not proofread!!!
a/n: this is an ass long one shot, largest one I made, and dirtiest. Well first time writing explicit smut, so I hope you like it. This is based on a request! Remember that comments and repost are really appreciated it! Enjoy 💕
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Like always, Friday nights are reserved for just the two of you—no friends, no work, no distractions.
It was one of the promises you and Frank made less than a year ago, right after you got married.
You both knew that, because of Frank's job, there would be days—sometimes even weeks—when you wouldn't get to see each other. And if there was one thing Frank feared more than anything, it was the idea of growing distant from you. The thought of the love and admiration he felt for you fading over time... or worse, that your love for him would.
So Fridays belonged to the two of you.
Most of the time, it meant a quiet dinner at home followed by a movie on the couch. Other nights you'd dress up and go somewhere nice for dinner. Sometimes you'd just wander around Queens or Hell's Kitchen with no real destination, ending up at some random food cart because neither of you could decide what you wanted.
Frank had cooked dinner—his famous chili, your favorite—and now the two of you were curled up on the couch. Your head rested against his chest while his rough fingers lazily combed through your hair. Some random movie played in the background, something you'd found halfway through flipping channels.
As the movie went on, the scenes became a little more... intense.
Without meaning to, your mind wandered.
When was the last time you and Frank had actually slept together?
It hadn't been that long.
But lately he'd been spending more and more time away from home, and when he wasn't, you were buried under work.
"Frankie..." you murmured softly.
You heard nothing but a sleepy grunt.
You lifted your head just enough to find him with his eyes half-closed.
"Were you falling asleep?"
"Huh?" His eyes snapped open immediately. "No. No, I wasn't asleep."
"Yes, you were." You pouted, trying not to laugh. "Seriously? On our night?"
You pushed yourself up until you were sitting beside him, turning to face him completely.
For a few seconds, you simply looked at him.
Then, with the most dramatic pout you could manage, you asked,
"...You don't love me anymore, Frank?"
For a second, he just stares at you, panic settling across his face as if the thought alone had knocked the air out of his lungs.
"...You don't actually think that, do you?"
You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes as your gaze lingers on one of the movie's more heated scenes for just a second too long.
"It's just..." You groan under your breath. "You know what? Never mind. Forget it."
You slip off the couch and head for the kitchen.
Frank is on his feet immediately, following close behind.
"C'mon, sweetheart..." His voice is still rough with sleep. "Don't do this. You know I love you."
You busy yourself opening a cabinet, reaching for a glass.
"I know, Frank. It's just..." You exhale sharply. "Forget it. It's not important."
Before you can pour yourself a drink, you feel his hand gently wrap around your wrist.
He takes the glass from your hand and sets it on the counter before turning you to face him, never letting go.
"C'mon, honey." His voice softens. "Talk to me."
You avoid his eyes, staring somewhere over his shoulder instead.
"It's nothing, Frank. Really."
He lets out a quiet huff.
His thumb slowly brushes over your wrist.
"Am I not showing you how much I love you?"
Your eyes drift back to the TV.
The movie has reached a full-blown sex scene.
Then that damn smirk appears on his face—the one you love just as much as you hate.
A quiet chuckle rumbles in his chest.
"So that's what this is."
Heat immediately rushes to your cheeks.
"What?" You tear your eyes away from the television, looking anywhere but at him. "No—no, it's not."
"Oh, yeah?" he says, the grin never leaving his face.
You cross your arms, refusing to meet his eyes.
He lets out an amused huff.
"So my wife's needy, huh?"
The teasing in his voice only makes your face burn hotter.
"No!" you protest a little too quickly. "That's not what I meant. Just... drop it."
"For gods sake woman" He steps closer, unable to hide his smile. "Don't get all flustered on me."
He slips an arm around your waist, gently pulling you against him.
You give his chest a light shove—just enough to slip free.
Without another word, you walk back into the living room and switch off the TV.
Still blushing, you keep your back to him.
"I'm tired," you mumble. "That's all."
You hesitate for a beat before adding, quieter,
"I'm going to bed. Come whenever you want."
Frank only smiles to himself as he watches you disappear down the hallway, already knowing you'd left the conversation unfinished.
About twenty minutes later, you're already in bed, wearing your dark green lace nightgown, the one you usually wear. Your face is washed clean, and your hair is pulled back into a soft braid.
You're sitting there reading a book—or at least trying to—when Frank walks out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. You look up and see him walking in with that smirk.
Frank knows exactly what he's doing.
"Interesting book, sweetheart?" he asks casually.
You answer with a simple, distracted, "Mhm."
"Good. You'll be reading for a while, right? If you don't mind, I'm gonna do a couple of exercises."
You lower the book for a moment to look at him.
You feel a soft warmth creeping up your neck. He's shirtless, and his sweatpants sit low on his hips, revealing the faint line of hair below his stomach.
"Yeah. You know... gotta keep the body healthy, sweetheart."
Frank winks at you, and you feel your face getting even warmer.
You know exactly what he's doing. He's teasing you. He wants you to give in first and admit how much you want him right now.
You pick up your book again and give him an indifferent look.
"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say."
Frank's smile grows as he watches your skin turn red.
A moment later, he drops to the floor and starts doing push-ups.
And God help you, because you can't stop yourself from looking.
You try to focus on your book, but your eyes keep drifting back to him—to his back covered in scars, the muscles moving with every movement.
A few minutes later, Frank's skin starts to glisten with sweat, and he lets out quiet grunts that make it impossible for you to concentrate.
The book is long forgotten, loosely held in your hands as you watch him.
When he finally stands up, you quickly try to compose yourself and pretend you're reading again.
But your flushed face and the way your breathing has changed give you away.
Frank strolls over calmly towards the door, as if carrying a heavy load, and starts doing pull-ups. You have a full view of his abdomen this time, and you can clearly see that his sweatpants have slipped lower on his hips, leaving very little to the imagination. Your face is already completely red. Frank continues to grunt and moan with the effort. You forget all about your book as you stare at him, your mind consumed by thoughts of running your tongue over his abs and feeling the firmness of his body. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs tightly together under the sheets.
Frank lets out a loud groan. You cover your flushed face with your hands, press your head against the headboard and let out a dazed "Shit" that almost sounds like a whimper.
Frank lets out a hoarse laugh, partly from the effort, and partly because of the situation. He moves closer to you. "Seeing something you like?" He teases, flexing his muscles.
"Frank..." you blurt out, intending it as a warning, but it sounds more like a plea.
Frank crawls on top of you on the bed, positioning himself so you’re forced to look him in the eyes. "Admit it, woman," he teases.
You open your mouth to protest but can only manage a small whimper. Frank growls, and you clamp your thighs together tighter, trying to release the tension building in your lower belly. Frank can’t take it anymore and attacks your mouth. It’s not a gentle, loving kiss. It’s charged with lust and desire. "Frankie..." you gasp, barely able to breathe.
"Until you tell me what you want, I'm not going to do anything, my love," Frank replies, as if to punish you. But his voice is thick with desire and restraint.
You trace the length of his torso with your hands before he catches them with one of his own, holding them above your head. He lowers his head to your neck and runs his nose along it. "Come on, baby. Tell me what you want." His teeth tease your neck before he sucks on it and leaves a mark.
You can’t help but moan with pleasure.
"Use your own words, pretty girl," he says, smiling teasingly against your neck.
"Frank, I need you. Please..." You look at him pleadingly as he lifts his head. "Fuck me, Frank."
He smiles and kisses you once more while his other hand goes straight to the hem of your nightgown. It traces your thigh until it reaches where you need him most. "Good girl," he murmurs against your mouth before pushing your panties aside and sliding a finger between your lips. "Damn, you're soaking wet." He slowly slides one finger in and out. "Is this because of me, baby?"
You whimper into his mouth. "Yes...yes, just because of you, Frankie."
Frank uncuffs you so he can remove your nightgown, leaving you completely naked. "More... Frank, please... I need more," you say, pressing your hips against his hand and begging for more friction.
"Such a greedy girl," Frank says as he slides in another finger and picks up the pace. He grabs your nipple with his other hand and twists it while his mouth moves to your other breast and sucks, drawing a sharp moan from you. Your hips jerk, and the hand that was on your nipple moves to your hips and holds you still. "Shh... Stay still for me, okay?" Frank murmurs against your chest. He adds a third finger to your pussy, stretching you open for him.
"Frank... I need..." you moan, arching your back off the bed.
"I know, I know," Frank says, pulling his mouth away from your breasts and picking up the pace as he fucks you with his fingers. "Just one, okay? Come on my fingers once before I really fuck you...” Frank urges you. "Can you do that? Of course you can. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” He says this in his hoarse voice, talking you through it. He feels your pussy milking his fingers and knows you’re about to come. With a couple more thrusts, you climax with a sharp moan, your pussy milking his fingers.
As you come down from your orgasm, Frank pulls his fingers—covered in sticky fluid—out and brings them to his mouth. “Delicious,” he says, sucking them clean. You look up at him from below, your eyes half-open as you try to catch your breath. Frank smirks and grabs your thighs, spreading you wider. “I’m not done with you yet, baby,” he says. With a sudden movement, he flips you over and lifts your hips so you’re on all fours, your ass in the air and your head and chest pressed against the bed. One of his hands caresses one of your buttocks before he slaps it. “Perfect,” he murmurs. Then you hear the zipper on his sweatpants come down, and seconds later you feel his hardness. He presses the tip of his cock against your folds, spreading your arousal wide, pushes in just a couple of centimeters, and you moan into the pillow. “That’s it, baby… relax…” Frank pushes in a few more centimeters, feeling you open up for him.
His cock is so thick that it always feels like the first time. You feel the searing heat as he enters you, pausing occasionally to let you adjust to his size. Frank pushes in the last few centimeters until he’s completely inside you. You scream into the pillow.
"That’s my girl. Such a good girl. That’s how I like it: taking all my cock, as if you were made for me," Frank growls against the back of your neck. He waits a few minutes until you start moving your hips on your own. That’s when his lethal rhythm begins. Frank is a beast in bed. Even though he’s always gentle and kind, he fucks like an animal in bed. One hand grabs your braid, pulling you toward him so that you arch your back. The other hand grips your hips so tightly that you’re sure to have bruises there tomorrow.
You can't stop moaning and screaming when Frank is rough with you; you love it. You climax immediately on his cock, hearing Frank growl with satisfaction as your pussy squeezes his cock tightly.
It doesn't take Frank much longer to come inside you. He shoots all his cum straight into your pussy and thrusts into you a couple more times before collapsing breathlessly on top of you.
In one swift motion, he flips you both over so that you’re lying on top of him.
In stark contrast to his rough movements just seconds ago, he gently strokes the strands of hair that have slipped out of your braid. "My beautiful girl..." he murmurs, kissing your forehead as he pulls out and you hear a "plop." You instantly feel his cum trickling out of you.
"That was..." you say, trying to catch your breath as you run your hand over Frank’s chest and caress him.
Frank laughs deeply. "Is my wife still needy? Or was that enough to show you how much I love you?" he asks teasingly.
You can only manage a weak laugh and blush a little.
"I think I'm going to need one more sample to know for sure..."
