Can you write a smut about Rafe and reader are in an arranged marriage. How will their sex life be? Can you make up a story where they do it intensely?
notes. i def don’t think you wanted a fanfic that was this long, but i saw so much potential in this idea i just couldn’t help myself to write this for you. this took me days to do, so enjoy! this is for all of my lovers who love backstory & character development. i tried my best! this is so long but so cute and worth it (in my opinion)
content warnings. ⸝⸝ fem reader, arranged marriage, fluff, arguing, tad angst, cussing, so much backstory, no proof read, cuddling, slow burn, make up sex, tender mornings, rough sex, hair pulling, love making, rafe spitting in reader’s mouth, degrading, praising, showering together, wife!reader, husband!rafe, ass slapping/spanking, backshots, choking, slight wording of cnc(?), some intimate scenes, brat taming, edging
ward wants his son to have a good girl. he’s told rafe the standards he should look for, not a drug addict, someone sweet, someone good to him. simple enough, but rafe never followed through. he went for party girls who had no direction in life, fucked girls for drugs, and messed around with ones who’d been passed around so much they’d probably had every std in the book.
then you came along.
ward was immediately interested. he’d spoken to you before, when you were planting flowers in homemade vases along your front yard fence. you had this soft, sweet charm he’d never seen in any of the girls rafe usually brought around.
you didn’t expose yourself in everyday clothes, you spoke like you didn’t even know curse words existed, and you carried yourself with a modesty that felt rare. you were perfect for the cameron image. the kind of girl who could clean up rafe’s mess of addictions and reckless behavior.
when the wedding came, rafe had no real say. you were beautiful, sure, but he wasn’t ready to let go of his old life. so on your wedding night, after you were officially married, he didn’t say much. he was still adjusting.
you found him in the bathroom, a towel wrapped low around his waist while he brushed his teeth. you poked gently at his side. “hi,” you said, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
he glanced down at the spot you’d poked, then looked at you. toothbrush still in his mouth. “…hello.” you smiled, a playful little pout forming on your lips. “that’s all i get?”
he stayed quiet for a second, eyes now fully on you. “what am i supposed to say?” he asked and you shrugged. “i don’t know… we just got married!” excitement colored your voice. “yeah,” he replied dryly, spitting into the sink. “trust me, i’m aware.” he adds.
your smile faltered, and you swallowed. rafe sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “look, i’m not trying to be a dick. this whole thing is just… a lot.” he explained. you nodded, looking up at him. “is there anything i can do to help you relieve some stress?” your brows furrowed in genuine concern. “anything you need?” you ask.
he stared at you for a long moment. “a drink,” he said flatly. you frowned. “i don’t think that’s what you need,” you replied softly. his eyebrow lifted. “you’ve been my wife for three hours and you’re already arguing with me?” he asked, sarcasm thick in his tone.
you didn’t answer. instead, you gave a small, quiet nod and walked out of the bathroom.
the whole adjustment process to rafe was strange. one day, you were receiving nothing but attitude and toxicity, and the next, little moments of kindness that caught you off guard.
coming from a family who handled their feelings by sitting down and talking things out didn’t exactly prepare you for someone like rafe. he thought he knew everything, and even when he knew he was wrong, getting an apology out of him was like pulling teeth.
he wasn’t even close to what you imagined in a husband before his father came talking to you. you wanted someone sweet, mature, someone who didn’t treat every disagreement like a battle. someone who could tell you what was wrong instead of making you figure it out yourself.
just like the first night of your honeymoon, he was still angry. still angry at his father for putting him in this situation, for making choices for him like he was a kid. it was around two in the morning, and he was sitting out in the living room of the hotel ward had paid for in another country.
every now and then his voice would rise, frustration bleeding into every word as he talked on the phone about how he was sick of everyone deciding his life for him. his voice carried all the way down the hall to the bedroom, and you sat there on the bed with your hair in a messy bun, listening to every word.
when he kept going, something in you finally gave out. quietly, you got up and headed to the closet, pulling your suitcase onto the floor and beginning to pack the clothes you’d brought with you.
when rafe heard the movement, he ended the call and walked into the room, stopping when he saw you calmly folding your things into the suitcase.
“what are you doing?” he asked, but he could obviously see what you were doing. you didn’t look up instead just continued. “packing.” you reply. rafe stared at the suitcase for a second. “i can see that.” he said and you folded another shirt. “then why’d you ask?” you interviewed, and he went quiet. his jaw tightened, like he was holding back a groan. “where are you going?” he asked, looking at everything about you.
your hair, clothes, skin. “home.” you stated, dryly. the answer came so easily that it caught him off guard. “what?” he said. “you’ve spent the whole trip talking about how much you don’t want this. i figured i’d make it easier for you.” you replied.
“that’s not—” he started and you scoffed. “not what?” you cut him off, as you looked at him. “i heard you, rafe.” you mention and you got nothing but silence.
he then shifted his weight. “you’re seriously packing because i was pissed off?” he asked and you let out a small laugh mid sentence. “because you were pissed off? no.” you correct, another shirt landed in the suitcase.
“because you’ve made it very clear you don’t want me here.” you said and it was visible that something uncomfortable settled in his chest, that wasn’t what he’d been trying to say. at least, not anymore. “stop.” he demanded.
you ignored him, adjusting your shirt on your shoulder. “i said stop.” he repeated. “why?” you ask, looking up to meet his gaze. the question hit him harder than he expected, because he didn’t have a good answer at all to give you, because a couple days ago he would’ve gladly watched you walk away, but because now that you were actually doing it, he couldn’t stand the sight of it.
“just…” he rubbed a hand over his face. “stop packing for five seconds.” he told you, approaching slowly as if you were an angry animal that would pounce any moment. you scoff as if he had asked you something insane, the audacity he had making you began to get angry.
“no rafe!” you say, looking at him, your volume catching him off guard. “you don’t like me, so i’m leaving. simple. i don’t need your permission.” you stated, keeping eye contact with him. his face went cold, staring at you. “i’m not stupid, nor am i gonna waste my time! i’m leaving.” you yelled, and he didn’t even react. but he did scoff when you told him you were leaving.
because he knew you weren’t, you can pack all the shit you want but he knew in his head, you weren’t leaving him. not him.
“you’re not leaving.” he stated, and you looked up at him and laughed. “watch me.” you told him, moving to the nightstand and getting your phone charger out and makeup. “i’m serious.” he told you, standing still while watching you, his tone spoke for itself. “so am i.” you flash a fake smile before rolling your eyes, putting your charger in your pocket and makeup in the suitcase. “you’re my wife.” he stated.
“a wife you don’t even want!” you correct. “i didn’t say that.” he responds, and you looked at him as if he wasn’t crazy. “yeah right” you say, rolling your eyes with attitude. his expression darkened, anger lingering in his eyes. “quit putting words in my mouth.” he demanded and you turned to him fully, crossing your arms.
“then tell me i’m wrong, rafe.”
and he couldn’t, he just sat there looking fucking stupid. “that’s what i thought.” you said quietly now, nodding in acknowledgement and you continued packing.
for the rest of the night, he left you alone. at least, mostly. after another pointless argument, he stormed back into the living room and dropped onto the couch, rubbing a hand over his face. every few minutes he’d hear another zipper, another drawer opening, another reminder that you were actually packing. it got under his skin more than he wanted to admit. twice he got up and walked toward the bedroom, only to turn around before he reached the door.
by three in the morning, he was still sitting awake on the couch, staring at nothing and listening to the sounds coming from the bedroom. he fucked hated hearing the suitcase’s wheels rolling on the floor, and the zippers bit at his patience.
he drifted off on the couch, and by the time he woke up, he heard the sound of the suitcase wheels. at first, he didn’t react, then he looked up to see the bags, all of them. his stomach dropped. “what are you doing?” he asked, but you didn’t answer. you just kept walking toward the door.
“hey.” he said, louder. but he still got nothing. “seriously, where the hell are you going?” he asked while you reached for the handle. “home.” you finally answered. rafe stood up so fast the coffee table rattled. “you’re actually leaving?” he questioned. you laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “what did you think i was doing all night?” you asked.
his jaw tightened, he didn’t have an answer, because he didn’t want to come to speak out loud about this view and also truthfully he’d thought you’d calm down, he’d thought you’d unpack, he’d thought you’d stay.
“so that’s it?” he asked, and you looked at him. “what do you want me to do, rafe?” you asked. he hates that questions like that, because when he’s asked questions like that, most of the time he doesn’t want to answer… and also because for the first time since the wedding, he knew exactly what he didn’t want. he didn’t want you walking out that door.
“don’t go.” he told you. the words came out rough, almost angry, like they had been dragged out of him. “don’t go.” he repeated and you stared at him, your hand still wrapped around the suitcase handle as you searched his face for something real, something that would make any of this make sense.
“give me one reason.” rafe looked away immediately, like he couldn’t stand being pinned down by the question. “i don’t need a reason.” he defends. “yes, you do.” you follow up quickly. “no, i don’t.” he said. you slowly let go of the suitcase handle and shook your head.
“that’s funny.” his eyes narrowed. “what?” he asked. “because every time you want something from me, there’s supposed to be a reason. every time you expect me to understand you, forgive you, follow along with whatever you decide, there’s always some explanation i’m supposed to accept. but now suddenly you want me to stay and i’m just supposed to do it because you said so?” you ask, staring at him.
“what are you talking about?” he asked. “you want me to stay? okay. why?” you question, letting your hands drop to your sides. “because i said so.” he told you. you let out a laugh that held no amusement whatsoever. “that’s not an answer.” you say. his jaw clenched hard enough that you could see the muscle jump.
“can you stop doing that?” he requested. “doing what?” you ask. “turning everything into an interrogation.” he explained and you rolled your eyes. “i’m not interrogating you, rafe. i’m asking a simple question.” you gestured toward the suitcases sitting by the door, packed and ready to go. “you’ve spent this entire trip acting like i’m a burden, like my presence is something you have to tolerate instead of something you actually want.” you stated. “that’s not true.” he continued after you quickly.
“really?” you ask. he went quiet, and that silence told you more than any argument ever could. you nodded slowly. “that’s what i thought.” you repeat again tonight. “i never said you were a burden.” he corrected. “you didn’t have to. you made it obvious enough without saying the words.” you said, flashing a fake comforted smile.
“for fuck’s sake—” he groans. “see?” you interrupted him abruptly. “there you go again.” his hands flew up in frustration. “what do you want me to say?” “the truth.” you yell. “i am telling the truth.” he yelled back. “no, you’re not.” the room fell silent after that, the tension stretching between you until it felt impossible to breathe around it. you took a step closer, refusing to look away from him this time.
“if you want me to stay, tell me why.” rafe looked frustrated enough to punch a wall, his entire body rigid with the effort of holding something back. “because.” he said dryly. “because why?” you ask. “i don’t know.” he swallowed.
“that’s a lie.” his eyes snapped to yours instantly. “you think you know everything, huh?” he questioned bitterly. “no. i think you’re scared to say it.” you mention and his expression hardened. “say what?” he asked. “that maybe you don’t hate me as much as you wanted to.” for a moment neither of you moved. neither of you spoke. the words hung heavily in the air between you.
“i never said i hated you.” he corrected. this time his voice was quieter, stripped of some of its usual anger. you swallowed hard. “then stop acting like i’m impossible to keep around.” rafe looked down at the floor, staring at it for several long seconds before finally lifting his gaze back to yours.
when he spoke again, there was something different in his expression, something tired and honest and completely unguarded. “i got used to you being here, okay?” it wasn’t a grand confession. it wasn’t romantic or dramatic or anything close to the kind of speech people gave in movies. but somehow that made it feel more real.
it was probably the most honest thing he’d said since the wedding, and you could tell how much it cost him to admit it. “and?” you asked softly. he rubbed a hand over his face and let out a slow breath. “and i don’t want you to leave.” he said, finally.
you stare at him. “keep that attitude up, and i’ll stay.” you tell him, opening the door. “you have my number, prove you don’t want me to leave, rafe.” you continue and he rubbed his face, he was livid.
his eyebrows furrowed. “what?” he asked, looking back at you as you open the door wider. “you heard me.” you said. for a second, he just stared. then his expression hardened. “that’s bullshit.” he said, aggressively. “is it?” you respond, sarcastically. “yeah, it is.” he said. “why?” you questioned.
“because you’re putting me in some stupid test.” he responded and you sigh. “no, rafe. i’m leaving.” you stated, and the words hit harder than he expected, so hard that he shifted his weight and his voice was quieter. “then leave.” he said, gesturing toward the door with his hand before letting it drop back down to his leg.
you simply nodded. “okay.”
he didn’t say anything to you after that, you bought a plane ticket back home and you arrived home some time later. you didn’t receive any calls from him when you were boarding the plane and the time prior, but when you got on the plane he started to text you, and call you.
you decided to make him wait, so you turned your phone off. when getting home, the scent of your favorite candle still lingered. the sunlight pouring through your glass french doors stretched across the hallway that you passed from the front door. it was so beautiful, and so much calmer than hanging out with your new husband.
you let your hair down from the bun, your hair touching your skin as you swayed your hips to the kitchen. you made yourself some food, the calm morning still having a warm embrace on you. you sighed, your chest becoming more comfortable and not tight and stressed out.
once you finished making your food and eating it, you headed upstairs. when you reached the second floor, you stripped out of your pants and took your shirt off just for preparation for bed. your bed was calling you, so you made it easier for you.
you opened your door, tossing the clothes to your floor, and you looked at your bed, suddenly realizing rafe sitting there.
“jesus!” you yelled, rushing to cover yourself with the door and peeking your head out to look at him. “would you stop yelling?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “you’re in my house rafe.” you defended, before squinting your eyes at him. “why are you here?” you asked.
“you turned your phone off, what the hell was i supposed to do?” he asked, looking at you. “oh, i don’t know, maybe tell me if you’re on the way?” you offered, and rafe scoffed. “right, because you were doing such a great job answering your phone.” he replied, getting up from the bed and you stared at him.
“that’s not the point.” you stated. “it is the point.” he shot back. “no, rafe, the point is i came home and found a man sitting in my bedroom.” you said to him. “your husband.” he corrected.
“don’t do that.” you scoffed. “do what?” he asked. “use that whenever it’s convenient for you.” you replied and his jaw tightened. “i called you.” he admitted. “and i didn’t answer.” you replied. “yeah, i noticed.” he replied, walking toward the door. “that doesn’t mean you get to break into my house.” you mentioned.
“i didn’t break in.” he said, lifting a brow. you then folded your arms. his hand went to the door, opening it fully to look at you.
“then how did you get in?” you asked and he went quiet for a second. “your spare key.” he admitted. “rafe.” you started. “what?” he asked. “that’s creepy…how the fuck did you even get a spare?” you asked, brows furrowed now. “you getting on a plane and disappearing was crazy.” he mentioned, ignoring your question.
“i told you i was leaving.” you replied. “and i told you not to.” he continued. you rolled your eyes dramatically and pushed past him. “you win.” you said as you rubbed your face with a soft sigh. “i’m so done arguing with you.” you said.
rafe didn’t have a comeback. it was like he didn’t even want to say anything to end the conversation. he wanted you to stay, to talk to him, but you walked past him and sat on the edge of the bed.
“seriously. i’m tired.” you assured and watched as he watched you pull the blankets back.
“that’s it?” he asked.
you looked over your shoulder. “what else is there to say?” you asked. he opened his mouth, then closed it again. there was that fucking question again. you sighed.
“if you really came all the way here just to sit in my bedroom and be angry, you can sleep here if you want.” you said. rafe stared at you. “maybe argue with me in my sleep.” you laughed softly, but he didn’t laugh. he rolled his eyes.
“that’s not why i came.” he said.
“okay.” you replied softly, providing him a soft and gentle out to this argument. but the fact that you didn’t argue made the situation worse to him. the way you just simply laid down and turned away from him made the room fall quiet.
“you’re just gonna go to sleep?” he asked.
you let out a tired laugh. “what do you want from me, rafe?” you asked once more and he didn’t answer. because that was the problem, he wasn’t entirely sure. he was never sure when that question came out.
all he knew was that seeing you leave had felt wrong, and now that he’d found you again, the fight suddenly seemed a lot less important than it had a few hours ago.
after a long moment, he looked away. “move over.” he said roughly. you raised an eyebrow. “thought you’d never ask.” you said, moving over. “don’t make it weird.” he muttered, laying down next to you.
“you’re sitting in my room.” you said, turning to look at him. “our room.” he corrected, and to that admission, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. the most physical touch he’s given you is from you giving up on an argument. you laughed at that thought. he was impossible, and so annoying.
you woke up gently, you could hear the sound of his phone faintly. you stretched lightly on the bed, getting up and sitting on your knees on the bed, hair falling loose as you finally looked at him properly.
he glanced up from his phone, his eyes meeting yours. “what time is it?” you ask. “three.” he responded and your eyes widened a little. “i should probably get up and make us lunch.” you said, as you shifted forward on your knees, then leaned toward him like it was the most normal thing in the world.
he stiffened slightly, not pulling away, just surprised by the sudden closeness after everything. but you came from a family of affection, of tender love. so a kiss after you wake up was mandatory. you brushed a soft kiss along his jaw, then another near his neck. his hand paused mid scroll on his phone.
“do you want that? or do you want delivery?” you asked, your eyes meeting his again. he stared at you for a second, confused if he should be upset or happy you’re acting this way. “…why are you acting like yesterday didn’t happen?” he asked, you hummed softly, still close. “did it change what you want to eat?” you ask, and that caught him off guard.
his jaw tightened like he was trying not to react too much. “that’s not the point.” he commented. you smiled a little, backing up from him. “okay. then what’s the point?” you asked, he didn’t answer immediately. because the truth was, he didn’t know how to respond to you being soft with him again after everything.
he set his phone down. “i don’t know what’s going on with you.” he stated. “i’m just being nice, rafe.” you respond and he let out a short breath. “yeah. that’s the problem.” he said. you pushed your lips into a thin line, running your hand through his hair as you get up. “so, you want me to make it?” you ask.
he looked at you for a second longer than necessary. “i didn’t say that.” he said, you sigh and you tilted your head slightly. “you didn’t say anything.” you stated. that got a reaction out of him, but just a faint shift in his expression. “…just don’t burn anything.” he said. you smiled, getting up from the bed and already moving toward the door. “that’s not an answer.” you said.
he exhaled through his nose, setting his phone down on the bed. “yeah, fine. make it.” he said, a pause settling between you two. then, he spoke up quietly. “i’m not trying to fight with you.” he said, his tone unrecognizable because of how sweet it was. you glanced back at him. he wasn’t looking at you anymore, instead looking at the bed. “i know.” you gently responded.
you finally leave the room, making your way down to the stairs, the cold air biting at your skin, your eyes looking out your glass french doors and seeing ward and some random guy. you pause, looking down at your body that only had a bra and panties on.
you go back upstairs calmly, luckily they hadn’t seen you, despite your french doors being so open to the house. you go to your walk in closet, putting your hair up before putting on a top and shorts, and making your way to the bedroom to rafe. “uh. your dad is outside with some guy.” you told rafe, rafe lifted a brow.
“what guy?” he asked. you shook your head slightly, shrugging. “i don’t know. i just saw them through the glass doors.” you responded. his expression changed immediately, it was subtle, but sharp. ward seemed like he was a trigger for him, judging by how tense he got.
he sat up a little straighter. “he didn’t call.” he mentions. “does he ever?” you jokingly respond but that made his jaw tighten. rafe pushed himself off the bed. “yeah, okay.” he mumbled to himself. he grabbed his phone off the nightstand, already unlocking it. “he’s probably trying to turn this into some kind of meeting.” he mumbled to himself once more.
it seemed like he was trying to calm himself down, by his own voice and words while you watched him. “you want me to go downstairs?” you ask. he glanced at you for half a second. “no.” he said firmly. then, he swallowed. “just… stay here.” he added, his tone less strict.
there was a pause before he added, quieter, like it slipped out without thinking. “i’ll handle it.” he assured you, before brushing past you. you bite your cheek and sit on the bed, holding your face.
you spent a couple minutes up there, hearing quiet voices that stretched upstairs, you couldn’t hear them completely but rafe was mad about something. then you hear rafe coming back upstairs, when he found you, he didn’t say much.
“my dad’s downstairs.” he started, and you looked up. “yeah, i know.” you responded back and he hesitated. he shifts his weight. “he wants you down there.” he told you and your brows furrow in confusion. “why?” you question. rafe exhaled through his nose.
“just come on.” he told you, you studied him for a second, then followed. the moment you walked into the dining room, you felt it. too many chairs, it was too formal just for a quick chit chat. ward sitting like he owned the air itself, and someone else. a woman you didn’t know.
rafe stopped behind you. “what is this?” he asked, and ward gestured lightly. “sit down.” ward said but rafe didn’t move. “no. what is this.” he asked once again. a pause settled, and then ward leaned forward slightly.
“this is a marriage counselor.” rafe’s expression went completely still. “…you brought a therapist.” rafe started, glaring at ward. “for you and your wife.” ward explained, staring at rafe. rafe let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
“without telling me?” rafe asked. ward’s voice stayed calm. “you weren’t going to agree if i asked.” he explained. rafe looked at him for a long moment, then glanced at you, then back at ward.
the anger he was feeling wasn’t loud it was controlled, and dangerous underneath.
“you don’t get to manage my marriage like a business deal.” rafe stated and ward didn’t flinch. “then start acting like it isn’t one.” ward clapped back.
rafe stood, arms stiff at his sides as ward looked up from his seat. ward didn’t look at him, his eyes went straight to you. a soft smile settled on his face. “hi sweetheart.” he coos. you blinked, a little surprised but you smiled back automatically.
“hi.” you reply, giving him a soft wave. ward’s tone warmed just slightly. “how are you doing?” he asked, you hesitated for half a second, then answered honestly, still polite. “i’m okay… a little confused.” you say.
“understandable,” he said smoothly. “this is a lot for you.” he gently said. rafe’s jaw tightened behind you. ward gestured toward the empty chair. “why don’t you sit down, sweetheart.” he offered. you glanced back at rafe briefly, then sat.
rafe didn’t move, which made ward finally look at him now. “you too, rafe.”
rafe let out a short breath through his nose. “no.” he said firmly but ward’s expression didn’t change. “sit.” he commanded, silence stretched then rafe slowly pulled out the chair and sat, but his posture stayed rigid. ward folded his hands. “i wanted to talk to both of you properly.”
rafe cut in immediately. “you could’ve told me what this was.” he said. ward tilted his head slightly. “you wouldn’t have come.” ward stated. rafe scoffed. “yeah. because it’s insane.” ward ignored that, eyes shifting back to you.
“i just want to make sure you’re settling in alright, sweetheart.” he explained to you, which you nodded softly. “i think i am… it’s just been a lot of change.” you describe with a smile. “of course it has,” ward said gently. “you’ve been very patient with everything.” he compliments, rafe looked between you two, disbelief flickering across his face. because he knew that tone.
it wasn’t real warmth, it was strategy. and seeing it directed at you made it worse for him, his anger started to boil even more than before.
then counselor offered a polite smile.
“thank you both for sitting down with me today. i know this probably wasn’t how either of you expected to spend your afternoon.” she said. “you got that right,” rafe muttered.
ward shot him a look but the counselor ignored it. “why don’t we start with something simple? how has married life been so far?” she asked, her eyes on you. you smiled politely. “it’s been an adjustment.” you answer. “that’s a very mature answer.” she complimented and you smiled once again. “thank you.”
“and for you, rafe?” she asked, writing down something before looking up at him. he leaned back in his chair. “it’s been great.” the deadpan answer made the counselor pause. “great?” she echoes. “yeah. fantastic.” he repeated. you closed your eyes briefly. “rafe.” you said.
“what?” he asked.
the counselor offered a patient smile. “i’m assuming that’s sarcasm.” she replied. “good catch.” he stated, ward rubbed his forehead. you could practically feel the tension radiating off rafe. the counselor tried again. “what has been the most difficult part?” she asked. “my father arranging the whole thing.” he said flatly.
“rafe.” you repeat, looking at him. “what? she asked.” he said. the woman nodded. “that’s a fair answer.” she said. rafe looked surprised for a second. “it is?” he asked and she nodded. “yes.”
his expression softened slightly. “oh.” he murmurs. you glanced at him and the counselor smiled. “you’re allowed to be frustrated. i think what we’re trying to figure out is what comes after that frustration.” she explains, and rafe looked away.
for a moment, nobody spoke and under the table, you carefully reached for his hand. his fingers immediately tensed, you honestly expected him to pull away, but he didn’t. instead, he glanced at you. you rubbed your thumb across the back of his hand once, just once.
a silent reminder that he wasn’t alone in this conversation. so, when the counselor spoke again, his answer came out less sharp. “i don’t know.” he said. the room went quiet.
“that’s okay,” she said gently. “you don’t have to know everything right now.” she continued. rafe looked down at the table, then at your hand still holding his. “i’m just trying to figure it out.” he said, being the most honest he’s been with her since sitting down. she wasn’t getting that confession again, and the woman could tell.
after ward and the woman left, rafe had been distant. quieter than usual. he wasn’t giving you the cold shoulder exactly, but the warmth from the night before had cooled. he kept himself busy, answers short, eyes avoiding prolonged contact. like he was rethinking everything that had been dragged out in front of that stranger.
you hated the shift. so later in the day, when the house felt too heavy with silence, you stood in the doorway of the bedroom and said softly, “rafe… come take a shower with me.” he looked up from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, jaw tight. for a second you thought he might say no. his pride was still stinging.
“i’m fine,” he muttered, even though he clearly wasn’t. you didn’t push hard. you just tilted your head, voice gentle. “you don’t have to talk. i just… want you close. please?” you plead softly.
one thing your mother taught you was intimacy was something every couple needed, especially after such an intense experience for him.
that last word always did something to him. he stared at you for a long moment, then exhaled through his nose and stood up without another word. he followed you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him a little harder than necessary.
once the water was running hot and steam started filling the space, he undressed slowly, still not looking at you much. but when you stepped under the spray and held your hand out to him, he took it. he let you pull him in.
the moment the water hit his shoulders, some of the tension in his back eased. you didn’t force conversation. you just washed his hair, fingers gentle against his scalp, and he eventually leaned into your touch. his arms came around your waist after a while, forehead resting against your shoulder as the water ran over both of you.
he didn’t say much, but the way he held you tighter than usual told you everything. the distance was still there, but it was cracking. this was his version of letting you back in, quiet, physical, a little grumpy, but present.
he wasn’t sure why he was doing this, but it definitely was not because he suddenly loved vulnerability, but because you asked, and deep down he needed the closeness more than he wanted to admit.
standing under the warm spray, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering for a second against his damp skin. “what do you need, rafe?” you asked gently, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. he stayed quiet at first, water running down his shoulders, then his voice came low and rough. “i just need you.” he said.
the words settled between you like something heavy and honest. you didn’t push for more. instead you stayed close, letting the shower run over both of you for a couple of minutes in comfortable silence. his arms stayed wrapped around your waist, your bodies pressed together under the steady stream, the tension in him slowly easing.
after a while you pulled back slightly and brushed wet strands of hair from his face. “go ahead and get out, okay? go lay down. i’ll make you some dinner and then we can watch tv.” he suggest. he nodded, agreeing without argument for once. as he stepped toward the edge of the shower, he paused, cupped your face with one hand, and leaned in. his lips met yours in a soft, simple peck, your first kiss.
you blinked, a little shocked, warmth blooming across your cheeks as he pulled away. he didn’t say anything else, just gave you a small look before stepping out and grabbing a towel.
you stayed under the water a moment longer, washing your hair with slow fingers. your mind kept drifting back to that kiss, the unexpected gentleness of it, the way it felt both new and familiar at the same time. a quiet smile tugged at your lips while the steam swirled around you.
when you got out the shower, you quickly got dressed and headed out to your bedroom, giving rafe a soft glance while making your way to the stairs. you get downstairs, and search your freezer for any type of food you had.
you didn’t want to give him something fancy to overwhelm him, just somethin’ easy so he wouldn’t have to wait for a good while.
when you finally came back upstairs, balancing two plates in your hands, the television was still playing quietly in the background. rafe hadn’t moved much. he was stretched across the bed, one arm behind his head, staring at the screen without really watching it.
his eyes shifted toward you when you entered. “food.” you calmly said as you held up the plate. that got a small reaction. he sat up slowly as you placed the plate on his lap.
a burger and fries. nothin fancy. just something warm, maybe familiar. it was something filling, something easy.
rafe looked down at it, then up at you. “you made this?” he asked, you smiled. “obviously.” you respond. “you didn’t have to.” he mutters. you shrugged. “i wanted to.” you whisper to him, for a moment, he just stared at the food, then he picked up a fry.
“thanks.” he said, the words were quiet, almost awkward coming from him, but they were genuine.
that was good enough for you, so you smiled. “you’re welcome.” you said, he nodded once and looked back down at his plate, still very quiet. still thinking about whatever had been running through his head all afternoon.
but not quite as distant as before.
before you could get comfortable, rafe looked at you once again. your eyes met and he grabbed your plate and his, moving them to the nightstand. he pulled you to him as he kissed you, slow and deep, like he had been holding back for hours.
the tv hummed softly in the background, some show neither of you were really watching anymore. you melted into the kiss, your hands sliding up his chest as his fingers threaded gently through your hair. the makeout grew heavier, more intimate.
tongues brushing, breaths mixing, his grip on your waist tightening just enough to keep you close. he was surprisingly gentle at first, savoring every second, every little sound you made.
his hands moved carefully, sliding under your shirt and lifting it slowly over your head. you did the same with his, palms exploring the warm skin of his chest and shoulders. clothes came off piece by piece between kisses; your shorts, his sweatpants, until there was nothing between you.
he laid you back against the pillows, hovering over you, eyes dark but soft as he took you in fully. his gaze traced every inch of your body like he was memorizing it.
“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your neck, voice low and rough. he kissed down your collarbone, taking his time, hands gentle as they roamed your sides and thighs.
when he finally settled between your legs, he moved with a patience you didn’t expect from him, slow, deep thrusts, letting you feel every moment. your jaw dropped softly, his size stretching you. his forehead pressed to yours, breaths shared, bodies moving together in a steady rhythm that felt both intense and tender.
he stayed gentle through it all at the start, hands cradling your face, lips brushing yours between gasps, completely focused on you. the earlier distance had cracked wide open, replaced by something warmer, more vulnerable, as the two of you lost yourselves in each other.
rafe kept going, his pace deepening as he pressed more of his weight down onto you through his hips. each thrust hit harder now, the pressure intense and overwhelming in the best way, his body pinning you firmly into the mattress.
he buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking along your skin, lips hot and relentless as he marked you with every breath.
you lost your breath beneath him, gasping softly with every heavy stroke. his cock felt so thick and deep inside you, filling you completely. your legs stayed spread wide for him, trembling and quivering as he fucked straight into your g-spot over and over again. the sensation was almost too much, heavy delicious pleasure that made your toes curl and your thighs shake.
your hands flew up, gripping tightly onto the bed frame above your head for some kind of anchor while he drove into you. rafe didn’t ease up. he stayed right there, heavy and relentless, hips rolling with purpose, grinding against you on every thrust. his mouth never left your neck, kissing, licking, biting gently as low groans rumbled from his chest.
the weight of him, the way he fucked you so deep and steady, had you breathless and dizzy, completely lost in the feeling of him. his cock felt impossibly heavy inside you, stretching and rubbing every sensitive spot until your whole body was trembling beneath him.
his hips pressing all his weight down with every thrust, driving his cock right into that perfect spot inside you. the pressure was overwhelming, his thick length stretching and rubbing you so good you could barely think. your legs shook violently around him, still spread wide as your body tightened more and more.
“rafe—” you gasped, breath coming out in short, desperate pants. the pleasure built impossibly high until it crashed over you. you came hard around his cock, walls clenching and pulsing as waves of heat flooded through you. your mouth fell open, panting desperately for air because his cock felt so fucking good, pushing you through every throbbing second of your orgasm.
“that’s it, baby,” rafe murmured against your neck, voice low and rough with praise. he kept moving through it, slower but still deep, grinding against you. “you’re doing so good for me. fuck, cum on my cock just like that… let me feel you.” he rambled.
your hands stayed gripping the bed frame, body trembling as you rode it out. he kissed along your jaw and neck, then pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and intense.
“i’m sorry for being mean to you,” he whispered, still buried inside you, voice thick with emotion. “i don’t want you to go. i want you to stay… with me.” he said to you. he kept praising you softly between kisses, hips still rocking gently as you came down, breathless and warm beneath him.
you came hard all over his dick, your slick warmth coating every inch of him, dripping down his length with every thrust. your walls fluttered and squeezed around him so tightly, soaking him completely as your body shook beneath his weight.
“fuck, just like that,” he groaned, voice breaking with pleasure. his hips stuttered, losing their rhythm as he buried himself as deep as he could go. he came hard inside you, thick ropes of cum spilling deep into your pussy, filling you up with every heavy pulse.
you felt every twitch, every warm spurt as he emptied himself completely, his cock throbbing against your sensitive walls while he pressed his hips flush against yours, making sure you took every drop.
his breath was ragged against your neck, body heavy and trembling as he stayed buried inside you, both of you panting and slick with sweat. he kissed your skin softly, still rocking gently through the aftershocks, his cum leaking out around his cock as your bodies stayed locked together.
ever since that day, you two have been fucking like animals. since the day he gave you permission to do everything and anything you wanted to him, the tension between you never really settled. you’d both end up tangled up from the smallest triggers; if he looked at you a certain way, held your hand a little too long, spoke to you in that low voice, bought you random gifts, or even just looked too good while getting dressed.
this time it was over something stupid.. laundry. it had been two months since you two got married, and it still turned you on like crazy seeing him being so domestic, doing shit for you without even being asked. you walked into the laundry room to find him loading the machine, sleeves rolled up, that focused look on his face, and it hit you instantly.
before you could even think, you were bent over the washing machine, hands gripping the edge tightly as rafe shoved your shorts down and pushed inside you in one rough thrust. he was fucking you hard, deep strokes that made the machine shake beneath you.
“fuck, look at you,” he growled, one hand fisting your hair and yanking your head back. “bent over like a little slut just because i’m doing laundry. so fuckin pathetic.” he said.
his other hand came down hard, smacking your ass with a sharp sting that made you moan louder. he did it again, harder, the sound echoing in the small room. you pushed back against him, taking every inch of his thick cock, the size difference hitting you hard as he stretched you open so wide it almost hurt, because you knew he’s forcing you to take it.
rafe leaned over you, his chest pressed to your back, and wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. “this pussy was made for me, wasn’t it? so tight and greedy for my big dick.” he taunted.
he pulled your head back further and spit directly into your open mouth. “swallow it,” he ordered. you did, whimpering as he fucked you even rougher, hips slamming against your ass. his grip on your neck stayed firm, controlling every movement while he railed you from behind, the wet sounds of your bodies filling the laundry room.
“that’s it, take it like the desperate little housewife you are,” he groaned, smacking your ass again as he buried himself to the hilt over and over. your legs were shaking, hands gripping the washing machine for dear life as he used you exactly how he wanted.
you came so fast when he fucked you like that, but then there were other times where he fucked you and edged you for what felt like days.
you caught an attitude with him at a party at his father’s house. he warned you so many times but you didn’t want to hear it. so when you got home and the front door closed, he snatched you up. you both didn’t even make it to the main bedroom.
he pulled you into the spare room you were renovating into an office. the dress you were wearing was yanked down your legs in seconds, and getting him out of his suit might’ve been a world record.
“turn around and lay on your stomach,” he told you simply. you laughed, shaking your head. “can’t make shit simple, huh?” he asked, his face showing he wasn’t in the mood for your games. he flipped you over firmly but fell on top of you gently, his mouth right next to your ear as he worked your panties down.
“y’been so bad tonight, baby,” he muttered in your ear, pressing his weight down so you couldn’t squirm away. his words came out slow and low as he dragged your panties to your mid-thighs, using them as a makeshift restraint.
“have i?” you asked, voice already breathy.
his left arm hooked around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse race. “mhm,” he hummed against your ear, his heavy cock dragging along the back of your thigh before he lined himself up with your pussy.
he pushed in with one slow, thick thrust, stretching you open as he buried himself deep. a broken moan slipped from your lips. rafe kept his arm locked around your neck, holding you right where he wanted while he started fucking you harder, hips snapping against your ass.
“yeah, you have,” he whispered hotly in your ear, voice rough. “acting like a fucking brat all night… thought i wouldn’t handle you when we got home?” he taunted.
you tried to reply, lips parting, but the way he was pounding into you made it hard to speak. “i—fuck, rafe—” your words came out shaky and strained, breath catching every time he drove deep. your hands gripped the sheets, body rocking forward with each rough thrust while his arm stayed firm around your throat, keeping you pressed into the mattress.
he didn’t let up, lips brushing your ear as he kept whispering. “that’s right. struggle all you want, baby. this pussy still gets so wet for me when you’re in trouble.” he comments.
you tried to talk back, lips parting as you gasped out a shaky reply. “i wasn’t—fuck—” you start. “shut up,” rafe stated low in your ear, cutting you off instantly.
before you could get another word out, he fucked you so much harder, hips slamming into you with brutal force. the sudden intensity knocked the air right out of your lungs.
every thick inch of his cock drove deeper, faster, pounding into you so relentlessly that all you could do was moan and whimper helplessly. coherent words completely failed you now. just broken, desperate sounds spilling from your mouth.
rafe’s large hand quickly moved from your throat to cover your mouth, palm pressing firmly against your lips to muffle the loud noises you couldn’t hold back. “so fucking loud,” he hissed against your ear, still railing you without mercy, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing through the half renovated office. “can’t even behave for five minutes without screaming for my cock.”
your eyes rolled back, body jolting forward with every savage thrust while his hand kept you quiet. you could barely breathe through the overwhelming pleasure, completely overwhelmed.
you tried to warn him, voice muffled desperately against his palm. “rafe—i’m gonna cum—” you managed to choke out, barely intelligible.
for a moment he kept the brutal pace, hips snapping hard like he was going to let you. “yeah? you wanna cum, baby?” he whispered hot against your ear, sounding almost sweet. his cock drove deep and steady, hitting that spot over and over, pushing you right to the edge.
your body tensed, thighs shaking, right there..then he pulled out completely.
a broken whine escaped you instantly, hips pushing back desperately, searching for him. “did i tell you to speak?” rafe growled, voice dark and low.
before you could even process it, he slammed back into you, rougher than before. his thrusts turned punishing, hips slamming against your ass with raw force, the wet slap of skin filling the room as he fucked you even harder. his hand stayed clamped tight over your mouth, muffling your loud cries while his arm kept you pinned beneath him.
“brats don’t get to cum that easy,” he hissed into your ear, pounding you mercilessly, stretching your soaked pussy around his thick cock with every savage stroke.
you reached back desperately, fingers digging into his biceps, gripping the hard muscle as he kept pounding into you. your mind had gone completely fuzzy, cock drunk and lost in the feeling of him stretching you so deep.
“rafe— fuck… your cock feels so good,” you babbled breathlessly against his hand, words slurring together. “so fucking big… i can’t— it’s so good, baby, please—”
he kept fucking you through your desperate little praises, hips slamming against your ass with wet, filthy sounds. your grip on his arms tightened, nails digging in as your body started trembling again, that familiar pressure building dangerously fast.
“i’m gonna cum—rafe, please, i’m so close—”
he groaned low in your ear, sounding like he was finally going to let you. his thrusts stayed deep and rough, pushing you right up to the edge, right there and then he pulled out again.
you let out a broken, frustrated sob, hips twitching uselessly as the orgasm slipped away. your body was shaking, pussy clenching around nothing while you tried to catch your breath.
rafe gave you just a few seconds to come down, breathing hard against your neck, before he lined himself up and slammed back inside you without warning. he started fucking you even harder than before, the new angle making his thick cock hit even deeper.
“not yet,” he stated, voice dark and teasing in your ear as his hand stayed pressed over your mouth. “you don’t cum until i say so, baby.” he taunted cruelly.
your muffled moans grew louder as he railed you mercilessly again, using your body like he owned it, drawing out your pleasure until you were a trembling, cock drunk mess beneath him once more.
“rafe— please,” you begged, voice muffled and broken against his palm. “let me cum… i’ll be good, i swear. i’ll be your good girl. please baby, i love you— i love you so much, just let me cum on your cock.” your words came out in a desperate, teary babble, body shaking as he kept pounding into you without mercy. rafe’s grip on your mouth tightened slightly, his lips brushing your ear as he listened to you fall apart for him.
“that’s it,” he growled, voice low and rough. “beg like you mean it.” he said. you kept pleading between broken moans, hips pushing back to meet his savage thrusts. “please rafe… i’ll be so good for you. i love you— fuck, please let me cum—” you beg more.
he finally gave in. his thrusts stayed deep and punishing, but he angled his hips just right, slamming into that perfect spot over and over until your whole body locked up.
“cum then,” he ordered against your ear. “cum on my cock like a good little wife.”
the permission hit you like a wave. you came hard, crying out into his hand as your pussy clenched and pulsed around his thick cock, soaking him completely. your legs shook violently, eyes rolling back while pleasure crashed through you in heavy, blinding waves. rafe fucked you through every second of it, groaning at how tightly you squeezed him.
only when your orgasm started to fade did he slow down, still buried deep inside you. he moved his hand from your mouth and pressed a hot kiss to the side of your neck, breathing hard.
“don’t test me again, baby,” he warned. “next time i won’t be so nice.” he teased.
