Rafe X Reader Novels & Stories

She pulled one off the shelf, its cover embossed with a faded emblem that looked strangely familiar. As she flipped through the pages, a name caught her eye—a name she hadn’t thought about in years. Her heart raced as a memory surfaced, blurry and fragmented but undeniably real. Before she could process it, the sound of footsteps behind her made her jump. She turned to see Rafe standing in the doorway, his expression as unreadable as ever. “Find something interesting?” he asked, his voice neutral. She clutched the book to her chest, her mind racing. “Just… looking,” she said cautiously.

Rafael walked to his room, torn, he didn't want to believe anything he saw back there, she lied to him, deceived him and he wanted nothing to do with her again, his decision was final, he opened a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a glass, he drank in one gulp and refilled it immediately, he needed to blank out the pain in his heart, his heart was bleeding from the wound she had inflicted on it and he was never going to forgive her, he kept on refilling his glass and gulping it until he felt dizzy and lightheaded that night, he drank himself to stupor. * * Crystal pounded on Starlia's door, Starlia peeped through the door hole and rushed to open it when she saw Crystal standing there with

The room feels brighter just with her presence, and all my apprehension evaporates in her warm energy. “This is Christobel, a Gamma within Io. And the woman who raised me,” Rafe muses, his forced smile softening into a genuine one as he gazes lovingly at the older woman. She raised him, but he didn’t call her mother. I wonder what the story is there. Come to think of it, I know very little about Rafe outside of his feelings for me, his love of Io, and his hatred of River Crest. Granted, we never spoke about our families or backgrounds when we were together. I just thought he avoided the topic because it was obvious that I had no interest in talking about my broken home and black sheep status

“Oh! Thank you very much. I’ll give it a read then . I guess I’ll learn a lot about my dead husband from here than I could while I was actually with him.” After that the publisher left. And Ms.Rafa took that book and sat on a rocking chair to read it. She said to herself, “Guess a legendary journey of a devil is about to be revealed by my hands. Should I be happy about that, I don’t know anymore…” Inside that Book…………….

Rafe stood at the edge of the palm line like a god carved from bronze and shadow — white linen shirt open, revealing the hard planes of his chest and the dark tattoos that disappeared beneath his waistband. His gray eyes burned with a mixture of fury and raw hunger as they raked over her barely-covered body. “I was just sunbathing,” she said, quickly pulling her hand away, but the bratty tone remained. “Is that against your precious rules too?” Rafe stalked toward her across the sand, each step deliberate. The bulge in his shorts was already obvious. “You’re out here alone. Touching what belongs to me. And from the way you were moaning, I’d say you were hoping that supply boat might see exac

~~AURELIA~~ “Is that a… library?” I ask in surprise as we pass through a door left halfway open. From the narrow gap, I can see a long line of books—it looks never-ending. “It is, piccolo. You want to learn how to read?” “You… you know I can’t read?” I ask, caught between surprise and embarrassment. But Rafaele just chuckles as he pushes open another door one-handed, the other pressed tightly against my lower thighs.

Lucian look in disbelief how could someone do this to her? Rafe grabs his face in disbelief “the poor girls been through more than we have in centuries in just a couple years”. Lucian looks at Rafe and then goes back to the doctor, nods and thanks him. He enters the room where the girl is laying still asleep, he stands near her bed, his fingers gently tracing the scars on her body, “no one deserves this.” He moves and sits in a chair across the room, his devotion to her is already strong he will not leave her till she wakes.

I glance to my left and I see Rafe, he’s standing by the far end of the room leaning against the wall like he doesn’t belong even though he owns it as much as anyone else here. He looks as handsome as the last time I saw him, he’s wearing a Dark suit, no tie with his sleeves rolled just enough to show his forearms which is covered in ink. He looks…still, too still. Like he’s already clocking exits, threats, everything that could go wrong tonight. His eyes lift as if sensing my eyes on him as his find mine instantly. He stares at me not in a way that feels like hunger, not like Matteo’s does when he’s already angry and looking for a reason. Rafe looks at me like he’s checking something, his g

Done anything except stand there trembling like I’d been shot. But I was Nicholas Rhodes. I did not tremble. I did not stare. I certainly did not feel. And yet— I couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink. Couldn’t do anything but memorize him. Rafe leaned over the counter now, talking to a customer. His smile was soft, a little shy. He didn’t used to smile like that. Not at anyone. Only at me, in rare stolen moments he would pretend never happened. But now he smiled like a man untouched by violence.

The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and something else—his cologne, maybe. Rafe motioned for me to sit while he flipped open a sketchbook. His hands moved with easy precision, the veins on his forearms flexing as he drew. I tried not to stare but my eyes kept drifting. “So,” he said without looking up, “tell me about it.” “About what?” “The story behind this tattoo you’re definitely not sure about.” I smiled. “You’re assuming it’s a story worth telling.” “There’s always a story worth telling.” He glanced up, his dark eyes catching mine. “Even the ones people try to hide.”