As of April 2025, content written before 2024 will be found in the ARCHIVE masterlist. This list will include full-length fics, drabbles, and the dad!fic masterlist also.

All writings feature Black women ONLY.

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(Grayson Dolan x Reader | Secret relationship | Emma suspects EVERYTHING)

What happens when you finally reach a breaking point with Rafe and his rage? Angst!! Masterlist

You could ask anyone in town what they thought of Rafe, and they would all say just about the same thing.
 “He’s a drug addict.”
 “He has a horrible temper.”
 “He’s dangerous.”

You, however, didn’t see that. You saw him. Someone who just needed to be loved. Someone trying to be perfect, even though he didn’t know how. With you, it wasn’t complicated, you loved him for exactly who he was. You made it easy for him to breathe. Easy to feel enough.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, his tone carrying that slight edge of annoyance.

You sat across from him in a booth at your favorite diner. The hum of the old ceiling fan filled the silence, and the soft glow from the neon sign outside painted his face in flickers of pink and blue.

“I’m just thinking,” you said shyly, tracing your finger along the rim of your water glass.

He scoffed, glancing around.
 “Where the fuck is our food? HEY BUDDY, COULD WE GET OUR FOOD SOON?” he yelled toward the counter.

“I hate when you act like this.” You played with the wrapper of your straw, trying not to meet his bloodshot eyes.

“That’s too bad,” he muttered.

“Whatever. I think I’ll walk home.” You stood, sliding out of the booth.

He followed you out of the diner. The sound of his boots against the pavement echoed behind you, too close, too familiar. After a fight with his dad earlier, his energy had shifted, like it always did when he felt cornered.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, okay? Just get in the truck and I’ll drive you home.”

You kept walking.

“Okay. Okay. That’s enough. I get it, alright? I’ve been acting like an ass.” His voice softened, his footsteps slowing.

You were across the parking lot now, refusing to turn around.

“Y/N, get in the car!” he shouted, the sound bouncing against the empty lot.

“Why? So you can yell at me some more? Or maybe act like an asshole all night at the bonfire?” you snapped, turning back to face him.

“Stop, please. I’m sorry. What more do you need from me?” His voice cracked slightly, softer now, almost fragile.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this.” You finally looked up at him. Even in the dim light, you could see the vein in his neck, the tension in his jaw.

“Don’t do this to me,” he whispered. “Please. Let’s just go somewhere and talk.”

He reached for your hand, and you let him. His touch was rough, calloused, but familiar. grounding. He guided you to the truck, and soon you were parked in front of Tannyhill.

As always, the house looked hauntingly beautiful at night. Shadows danced across the windows, and the wind whispered through the trees.

“You need to change, Rafe,” you said softly. “And I don’t know how I can help you do that.”

The car fell silent.

“I’ve been trying to take care of my shit. It’s just hard.” He rubbed his head, avoiding your gaze.

“I love you. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone like I love you. Why can’t that just be enough?” His voice broke at the end, quiet and trembling.

“You’re more than enough, Rafe. I don’t think that’s the problem.” You searched his face, trying to read if he meant it this time.

“I know you’re talking about the drugs, and I know how I act when I’m on them. But what if I can’t ever get off them? What if this is just who I am?”

“That’s bullshit, Rafe. I love you so much, and I know you can do this.” You reached for his hand and held it tightly, tracing small circles on his skin.

“No one sees me like you do, Y/N. You see me through rose-colored glasses.” His eyes were glossy now, not from tears, but from the calm that washed over him when he was near you.

You stared out the window for a moment, wondering how you ended up here loving someone who was both your comfort and your chaos.

“This whole thing with my dad,” he continued quietly, “I try to stay sober, but then I hear his voice in my head telling me everything I’ve done wrong” He pressed his fingers to his temples.

“Hey,” you whispered, turning toward him. “It’s okay. If you really want to do this, I’ll help you.”

He reached across the console, his hand trembling slightly as it cupped your face. The warmth of his palm melted into your skin, and when his thumb brushed your cheek, the rest of the world fell away.

His eyes locked on yours, that stormy blue that always made you forget what you were mad about. And then his lips met yours.

The kiss was slow at first, searching, desperate. It tasted like salt and hope and the kind of love that burns quietly, the kind that hurts. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing hard.

“I can do this,” he whispered, voice shaking. “As long as I have you.”

You smiled softly, brushing your thumb against his cheek.
 “You already do.”

A/N:: let me know if I should do a part 2!!!!!

April 4 "fifty shades of GRAY"

4\14\24 my gray days every month