Synopsis: Presley and Colson fell in love accidentally, but they were meant to be. Now that all the obstacles have been removed, they're moving in together in LA. Now, they have all the time in the world for Colson to teach Presley all of the things he knows. This fic is the sequel to Mine, which can be found in my masterlist!
Warnings/Content: ANGST (it's going to get worse after this chapter so please check content warnings), swearing, depression, col over reacting, col & presley arguing, mentions of domestic abuse, MF being a dumb asshole
Colson
I’ve been walking around like a zombie for the past three weeks.
I feel terrible about it. I should be celebrating our album, celebrating the fact that I’m married, celebrating my birthday that passed by weeks ago, but I can’t. April turned into May and as the weather warms and the days get longer, I just can’t pull myself out of this hole.
I barely talk to anyone, even Presley. She’s understanding and kind and patient but I know how much it hurts her. We fall asleep together most nights but we haven’t had sex since before Megan’s post came out. I miss her, of course I do.
I find her in the kitchen, finishing up dinner, and before she notices me, I take a second to watch her. She looks like she’s lost some weight from her already thin frame. Her hair is in a messy claw clip and she wears sweats and a giant t-shirt. Come to think of it, she’s been acting depressed, too. Probably because her husband has turned into a depressed lump whom half the world hates. Maybe half the world is dramatic, but it feels like it.
I haven’t been on social media and I’ve only been replying to those closest to me. Even then, my replies are few and far between. I can only imagine what’s being said about me. My lawyer told me Megan was forced to delete her post, but it’s not like it matters. Everyone already saw it. Everyone already drew their own conclusions.
As Presley turns around to place our bowls on the island, she spots me. She straightens up a little and her face, a mask of misery and exhaustion, transforms into a weak smile. She’s trying so hard for me but I can tell she’s also feeling broken. I imagine I’d feel the same way if she was going through something painful. I sigh and walk over to her. She turns to look up at me and I slide my arms around her waist, pulling her in.
“Col,” she murmurs, nuzzling her face against my neck. I say nothing. I stand there and hold my wife, trying my best to draw strength from her. But nothing is better and everything is fucked up and I’m so scared. I just need Presley. I need to be close to her, to forget the rest of the world.
I bend to scoop her up and her legs go easily around my waist. I settle her on the island and press my forehead to hers, my hands sliding over her thighs. “Pres,” I say roughly. Her hand delicately rests on my cheek. “I’m sorry I haven’t been myself.”
“Colson,” Presley tries, shaking her head, but I continue.
“It’s not fair for me to shut you out. I just don’t have anything productive to say,” I mutter.
“Talking about your feelings isn’t unproductive, Col,” Presley gently points out. “I just want you to tell me what you’re feeling. What you’re thinking.”
“I’m…I’m fucking scared,” I say haltingly, like the words don’t want to come out. “I don’t know what this is going to mean for my career. It could kill me, Pres.”
Presley chews her lip. “Quite honestly, there are a ton of abusive men in Hollywood and they’re pretty much all forgiven.”
My brow furrows. “But I’m not an abuser,” I say tightly.
“No, Col, I know that,” Presley says, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean–”
I push away from her, shaking my head. “Don’t even compare me to those assholes,” I say, anger and fear rising in my chest.
Presley’s eyes widen as she hops down from the counter. “Colson, I’m not–”
“You fucking believe her, don’t you?” I scoff, frowning deeply at my wife.
“Colson, you’re–”
“Nah, that’s fucking cute, Presley,” I say shortly, tearing a hand through my hair. “Thought you of all people had my back.”
“Colson, stop!” Presley pleads, crossing her arms protectively across her chest.
“Let me guess, you’re going to ask for a divorce soon,” I scoff. I know I’m being unreasonable, but I don’t want to be blindsided again. If she’s going to leave, I need to be prepared for it.
“Stop. You just want to hurt your own feelings,” Presley shoots back, her eyes narrowing. “You know I don’t feel that way.”
“Maybe you fucking do, though,” I mutter, and Presley explodes.
“Oh, fuck off!” she snaps, her eyes wide and fierce with anger. “I’ve been nothing but supportive and patient and sweet to you. I don’t force you to talk. I don’t tell you what to do. And now you want to put shit on me?”
“Presley,” I say, heart sinking.
She shakes her head, holding a hand up. “You can wallow in your own fucking misery by yourself tonight,” she says. “I’m going to Cash’s.” With that, she abandons the kitchen and takes the stairs two at a time up to our room.
Panic rises within me and I want to follow her but I feel frozen in place. She comes downstairs a few minutes later. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Presley slips into a pair of slides, shoulders her bag, and slams out of the house.
And now, I’m completely alone.
Presley
I wake up at Cash’s place the next morning with my eyes so swollen I can barely open them.
I don’t let Colson see how much this all impacts me because he’s the one really dealing with it. I’m just the wife. But I’m also the one who sees what’s being said on social media. I’m the one that interacts most with Jason, Colson’s lawyer. I’m the one who responds to texts from friends and emails about interviews. I don’t think Colson has any idea how much I’ve been doing since this all happened.
I’m completely exhausted. I miss my husband. I miss how things were just a month ago, before Megan ruined everything. She can’t stand seeing Colson happy with someone else. I see it for exactly what it is, but too many people still see Megan as this sexy, perfect woman and how dare MGK even breathe the same air as her!
I hate her, and I don’t hate people. Usually, I’m pretty indifferent to anyone I don’t know. I’m protective of those I love, but I’m pretty good at just brushing people off. But I actually hate Megan. The fact that she’s making allegations like this for attention, for revenge on Colson for not taking her back when she was the one who hurt him in the first place. Colson is right – he’ll probably never come back from allegations like this.
Jason is at a standstill with things; Megan’s lawyer isn’t very communicative, but I wake up with a strong feeling that I have to do something about this and very fucking soon. I stare at the ceiling for a long time, fingers twitching. “Fuck it,” I mutter, snatching my phone off the nightstand. Do not disturb is still on, so I ignore any notifications and scroll down, finding her original text to me. I type up the message and stare at it for three minutes before I finally hit send.
There. Can’t take it back now.
It’s raining as I navigate LA traffic, hoodie pulled over my head. I must look wild right now, no makeup, messy hair, sweats and a hoodie. Slides on my feet. But I don’t give a fuck. This ends today.
I send a text to announce my arrival and the gate slowly creeps open. It gives me some satisfaction that her house is smaller than ours and nowhere near as nice or unique. I park in front of the garage and walk up to the front door. I should be nervous but I’m not. I’m angry. I’m motivated. She doesn’t get to do this.
Before I even walk up the steps, the door is open. Megan stands there, one hand curled around the door, her long nails like talons. It’s funny – I used to have such a crush on Megan Fox. She was that girl-next-door kind of sexy, a little daring in the things she’d say but still coy enough. But up close, it’s clear just how much surgery she’s gotten done, and it doesn’t suit her. She can do whatever she wants; anyone can. But that doesn’t mean it looks good.
We nod at each other and I step inside as she moves out of my way. “Shoes off, please,” she says, and I leave my slides by the door. I follow her into a stark white dining room area. It’s the exact opposite of comfortable here. How does anyone live like this?
“Have a seat,” Megan says, gesturing to one of the stiff chairs. I need to play this the right way, so I do as I’m told. She goes to the other side of the table and has a seat, slowly pushing her long hair off her shoulder. Her eyes find mine and she regards me for a second. Then, she smirks. “Colson has a type.”
“I don’t think he does,” I say, unable to help myself. “Where you’re a cold, vindictive bitch, I’m actually nice and I care about him.”
Megan snickers, quirking a brow. “Good to know you have some bite to you, Presley,” she says. “Why did you want to come here?”
“I thought we could have tea and girl talk,” I say, cocking my head to the side. “Why do you think I’m here, Megan?” I’m trying to keep it together, but now that I’m across the table from her, my anger is an entity in the room with us.
She smirks but then it fades. She’s an actress but not a very good one. She’s trying so hard to look broken and sad but I see right fucking through it. “Has he hit you yet?” she asks.
“Cut the bullshit,” I say, tone clipped. “You and I both know Colson never laid a hand on you.”
“Oh, he laid hands on me several times, if you catch what I’m saying,” she says, that smirk reappearing. “Does he tell you you’re the most stunning woman he’s ever seen while he fucks you?” She leans forward, pressing her huge, fake breasts up. “He once told me I have the nicest body of any woman he’s been with. Has he said that to you?”
She’s trying to hurt me. She’s trying to get me to snap. This is what she does. I absolutely refuse to give into her games.
“So you’re saying any time he touched you, it was consensual,” I say.
Megan rolls her eyes. “Of course. You guys are all idiots,” she says. “Colson can posture all he wants but you know he’d never hurt a fly. But it’s so easy to get people to believe it. He has a reputation, after all. Aren’t you quite a bit younger than he is?”
“And aren’t you ten-plus years older than me and trying to scare me?” I shoot back. There it is – a tiny crack in the persona. A flicker of insecurity. It empowers me. “Why can’t you just let us be happy? You didn’t even want him. You left him, remember?”
Megan leans back, crossing her arms. “And now I want him back,” she says, eyes burning into mine.
“Do you think this is the way to get him back?” I ask, incredulous. “Holy shit. That’s so sad.”
“Don’t do that,” she says, a sour look taking over her features. “Don’t try to make me feel pathetic. It won’t work.”
“You need to admit that Colson never hurt you. Or his lawyer is going to sue you for everything you fucking have,” I say coldly.
“So what?” Megan snorts. “He can go right ahead. What’s done is done. No one will ever forget that I put that post out there.” She shrugs.
“But he never hit you. He never physically assaulted you,” I say.
“Of course he didn’t,” Megan scoffs. “Like I said, he was a pussy.”
My nostrils flare in anger but I’m almost done. “I want you to admit it,” I mutter. “To me.”
“Really?” Megan says, a grin broadening on her face. “You want me to admit that Colson never hurt me? He didn’t. In fact, I hit him. Several times. He deserved it.” Another crack in the exterior. A cold, desolate anger that I’ve never seen in anyone else before. This woman is fucking scary.
“You’re sick,” I say, getting to my feet. “Leave us the fuck alone.”
“We’ll see about that,” Megan says from where she sits. I slip into my shoes and leave.
As soon as I get in the car, I stop the audio recording, a smile growing slowly on my face. I toggle to the end of the recording, stopping it right before her confession. I got it. I fucking got it.
You roll over, feeling the empty side of the bed with sadness. You stare at the ceiling, your eyes adjusting to the darkness. The time on your phone reads 1am and you feel exhausted but for some reason, sleep evades you. You don’t like this feeling. You want to get out of bed and find something that will occupy your time but you know nothing will help. You’ve spent the last few months starting midnight activities but you grow tired of everything after a few hours, eventually ending up back in bed staring at the ceiling. You roll over and decide to will yourself to sleep. If your body can’t do it on its own, you’ll use the power of your mind to make it.
He kisses down your body, his lips stopping once he reaches your core. Your body heats and you writhe at the thought of what is coming. He smirks down at you with that all knowing look in his eyes. He slips his finger between your folds and slides up down, collecting your slick on the tip of his index finger. He pulls it out and brings it to his lips, sucking on it with a moan.
“Always so delicious for me baby,” he compliments and he closes his eyes and licks his lips.
He lies himself flat on the bed and places his face between your legs. You jump involuntarily at the feeling of his breath on your hot pussy as he blows softly. He kisses up your thigh, teasing you for as long as possible before you can’t take it anymore and you have to beg.
“Please Colson,” you whine desperately. “Please stop teasing me.”
“All you had to do was ask.”
And with that, he jams his mouth onto your warm folds, sucking hard on your clit. You convulse on the bed as an overwhelming orgasm rips through your body. You cry out as he licks and sucks your clit. He slips two fingers into your hole and curls them. You sit bolt upright, crying out again as wave after wave of pleasure hits you.
You’re suddenly wide awake. There’s a dim light streaming in from the hallway but that’s not what disturbed you. A hot, sweating feeling envelops you as you suddenly realise you’re not alone anymore. Someone is under the sheets, their face buried between your legs, recreating everything you were just dreaming of. Were you even dreaming? You pull the sheet away and Colson’s deep blues eyes are staring up at you mischievously. He’d probably be smiling at you too if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied.
“Mmm…nice of you to join me baby,” Colson coos in between mouthfuls of your pussy.
“Oh fuck, Kells? When the…holy fuck- When did you…ahhh…get home?” you stutter as pleasure wave after pleasure wave propels through you.
“About…an 20 minutes ago.”
Your belly tightens with each flick and suck of his tongue. You lie back against your pillow, lacing your fingers into his hair and tugging roughly. He groans at the feeling and slips two fingers into your hole. You squirm and cry out at the new feeling of satisfaction. Like an itch that you didn’t know was there finally getting scratched. The speed of his fingers doesn’t start slow and build as normal. They’re fast and accurate as Colson curls them exactly right, hitting your g-spot every damn time.
“Oh fuck Kells, I’m gonna c-cummmmm!” you cry out as the coil in your stomach snaps and your orgasm crashes over you.
Colson doesn’t give you any time to recover. He pulls his fingers out, tearing his t-shirt off and pulls his sweats down just enough for his dick to be freed and slams into you. Your walls are still tight and contracting and he growls at the way your pussy wraps around him. He pushes into hard, his hand wrapping around your throat stiffly. Your breathing becomes more restricted but you’re in such ecstasy that you hardly even notice.
“Fuck, I’ve missed this pussy…My good little slut been waiting for daddy to get home?” Colson grunts through clenched teeth. You nod and he growls again. “Say it!”
“I’ve been a naughty slut waiting for daddy to come home and fuck me good,” you strain between stiffened breathing and blissful pleasure.
“That’s my good girl.”
Colson suddenly grinds his hips harshly and you’re completely filled with his unimaginable length. You cry out in pain but that only encourages him to continue. Another orgasm takes over and you tighten around him again. Colson doesn't let up and slips his hand between you to roll his finger over your clit. The added stimulation to your already sensitive area causes you to squirt all over him and his eyes darken. He lets go of your neck and grabs your leg to drape it over his shoulder, hitting your g-spot from a new angle. You shudder at the new feeling. Colson reaches under your t-shirt to pinch your nipples between his thumb and index finger. You’re practically panting like a rabid dog at this point and you can tell he’s loving every second of your vulnerable state.
“I’m going to cum so hard all over you that you’re going to be wearing my jizz like a fucking shirt,” Colson grunts as he hips begin to lose their rhythm. He drops your leg and buries his face in your neck, biting and sucking at your skin.
“Mmm yes daddy, cover me with your cum,” you moan, racking your fingernails down his back.
He pulls back from you, slipping his dick out of you so he can pump his swollen meat in his large palm. Without warning, he sprays you with warm, sticky jizz all over your stomach and tits. He curses and moans your name as he shudders with wave after wave of cum. You scoop up some of it with your fingers and slip them into your mouth, licking them clean. Colson watches you so intensely that you do it again and again until eventually there’s nothing left on you.
“So delicious daddy,” you moan with satisfaction and his eyes darken again.
“If you keep talking like that, I’m going to have to fuck you again.”
“I missed you,” you murmur, resting on your elbows to look into his eyes.
“I missed you more,” he grins at you proudly.
Colson wraps his fingers around the back of your neck and pulls you up to meet his lips, kissing you hungrily. You return his desperation with your own, linking your arms around the back of his neck and your legs around his waist you can koala against him. He lifts you off the bed, kicking his pants and boxers off in the process, and carries you to the ensuite, switching the shower on. He holds you up so you can pull your tank top over your head and steps you both under the water.
Colson doesn’t make any attempt to put you down, instead working around you to wash both your bodies, like you weigh absolutely nothing to him. You start to shiver as he holds you against the wall, kissing every part of your skin that his lips can reach. He switches the water off and steps out of the shower. Your legs eventually begin to ache and you wriggle your way down his body to stand. He wraps you in your favourite big fluffy towel and you dry yourself. He does the same and you both step back into your bedroom, ready for sleep.
You flick the hallway light off and close your bedroom door. You pad over to your large king size bed and settle in beside Colson. You lay your head on his chest and Colson snuggles you into his side securely. You feel whole again. The last few months of loneliness completely forgotten as the man you love holds you in his arms again. You sigh happily and Colson chuckles at your contentment.
“I hate to leave but I love coming home to you,” he admits in your hair, breathing in your vanilla scented shampoo.
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