Summary: [10k words] To everyone who meets Grayson Dolan, they believe he has a perfect family, perfect job, perfect life, but it’s really not the case. Grayson struggles to balance his work life, his two daughters and his wife, Yasmin. As he takes on a murder case, stress takes over him and his family. [italics indicate flashbacks]
WARNINGS: mentions of a bad childhood, brief mentions of an open murder case, abortion, miscarriages and affairs.
A/N: this took me a long while to write. ever since being put in lockdown it has took a toll on my mental health and i have been struggling to stay motivated, happy and healthy. i would really appreciate it if you could show this three part series all the love you have, by reblogging and giving me feedback. i love you all and thank you for the support <3
A perfect marriage is what almost every couple in the world admires to have. It’s the stabilizer for a happy family. And when 17-year-old Yasmin met Grayson Dolan, she knew he was that conjoining stabilizer that she needed to create the thing both of them have had countless dreams about. And 10 years later she has that. Well, that is what everyone seems to think.
“Gray, your coffee is getting cold,” Yasmin yells out to him, seconds later hearing the clank of his shoes against the kitchen tiles.
Yasmin feels his warm arms sneak around her waist as he litters small and sweet kisses along the back of her neck. Yasmin begins to feel warm all over, her cheeks heating and goosebumps rising on her arms. “Grayson,” she warns him, reaching back to playfully slap his shoulder. “Stop the kids will be here any second.” She giggles playfully.
“They’re brushing their teeth. We’ve got two minutes.” Grayson giggles, reaching for his coffee and taking a small sip of it, eyebrows scrunching at the temperature of the bitter drink. “You’re right, my coffee is cold.”
“When am I not right?” She smirks, trapped between the counter and his large, broad body. “What are your plans for today?” She asks, spinning around to face him.
“Work, have to meet with a client today who has a DUI, maybe hit the gym after.” He mentions, squeezing her hip.
Yasmin is quick to stop his plan right there with a firm shake of the head. “Uh, uh! It’s Aurora’s dance recital tonight.” She protests, pushing a finger against his clothed chest, the white-button up shirt clinging to every curve, doing his abs justice.
“Oh fuck. What time?” He asks.
Grayson nods at her and hears the pitter-patter of tiny feet against the hardwood floor, alerting him from admiring the way her golden skin glows under the bright kitchen lights, the way her freckles are splattered along the center of her face, like subtle brown paint and the way her gorgeous brown locks frame her face, he will never get bored of the gorgeous sight.
“Daddy, I’m ready to go now!” He turns to see his daughter’s large grin and glowing cheeks, looking exactly like her mother.
He rolls his eyes and switches his weight onto one foot, crossing his arms. “That was not two minutes.” He tells her.
Arabella huffs and stomps in reply to her father. “Yes, it was!”
“No, it most definitely was not, now come on.” Grayson gently turns his daughter and pushes against her back to guide her out of the door. “And your sister better be dressed and ready to go.”
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