#ahs6

You braced your hands on the toilet, heaving into the bowl. This time it was shorter, probably because you hadn’t been able to keep anything down all day and your stomach was running out of things to reject. 

It had started that morning, after Audrey had left for her pre-award pampering routine. Usually it was done at your apartment, but there was an issue with the dress and she needed a last minute alteration, and the designer would not budge on fixing the problem in their studio. So she had been up at five, kissing you goodbye and plucking the coffee out of your hand as she walked out the door. 

You had felt queasy then, but with the swarm of people already surrounding Audrey and lifting her cheeks and playing with her hair, you had struggled to get in a “you’re going to be great, I’m so proud of you”, let alone have time to consider that you might be sick. 

You had texted her for the next hour or so, apologizing that the morning had been so hectic and constantly asking her if she needed anything. Needed lunch. Needed her favorite shoes. Needed you to call her just to take a fraction of a break. 

But all of the returned texts had been polite denials because she just didn’t have time, mixed with countless “thank you”s and kissy-faced emojis. 

And after ignoring the fact that you didn’t feel like eating — it was a big day after all, stressful not only for her, but for you — and forcing some cereal down to an episode of House Hunters, you were running to the bathroom, retching up your half-digested food so violently that your legs gave out under you. 

It had been about six times since then, and this one had hurt the worst. You didn’t know why, but you hadn’t thought to get comfortable. It was probably because every second you weren’t retching, you were thinking about Audrey, worrying over her day, helpless to do anything to ease her nerves. 

Your day had been a litany of vomiting, teeth brushing, small sips of water, and about halfway through, a sore throat that would not ease up. This last time, it was your sore throat that had gagged you, cough turning into something entirely too hot and sour.

You thought you heard the door to your apartment open and close. Thought you heard keys on the counter. But then your stomach flipped and your eyes watered and you gripped your fingers against the toilet, braced for what was coming. 

You retched again a moment later, sputtering, and you tried to wipe at your mouth, but your body rejected the movement, arcing you over the toilet as you dry heaved. 

You felt like you were suffocating, ears ringing as you tried to catch your breath around your gagging, and you were almost positive you were crying now because it hurt. 

Hands swiped at your hair, pulling damp strands out of your face and off your brow. 

And you knew that touch. Audrey. 

You felt her against you before you heard her, ears still ringing. But her body was firmly behind yours as she knelt on the tile with you, holding you upright and rubbing your back as you coughed around the convulsions. 

“Breathe. Just breathe, darling.” 

Her voice was soft in your ear, and you fought to ground yourself on it. On her touch. You crumpled over the toilet one last time, breaths fast and shaky as you choked on your spit.

“Shh, shh...” Audrey cooed, and she tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “It’s alright. You’re alright.”

You sniffed, panting as you braced your arms on the toilet seat and pulled yourself up to your knees. 

“Easy,” Audrey warned, and then her hand was on your brow, your cheeks, pressing firmly against your damp skin. Her eyes widened. “Oh darling, you’re burning up. How long have you been like this?”

You shook your head, sniffing against the tears that were still falling as you wiped at your mouth. “I don’t know, since about an hour after you left this morning? What...” you swallowed hard against your sore throat. “What time is it?” 

That’s when you glanced up and noticed that she was fully done up - hair pristine, glowing complexion thanks to perfect makeup, and a gown that, despite everything that was happening, still made your mouth go dry and heat drip between your legs. 

“Fuck, Audrey...” you breathed, hand coming up to touch her cheek. But she caught your wrist halfway, smiling. 

“Maybe wash your hands first, love. Then you can touch me all you want.”

~~~

Ten minutes of washing and teeth brushing and Audrey-stripping-you-and-forcing-you-into-pajamas later, you were nestled into the couch, a blanket tucked around you and a cool washcloth on your forehead. The thermometer between your lips was starting to taste salty and you tried not to gag, bit down on it with your teeth to hold it because your mouth was so tired. But Audrey caught you, glancing down from her watch and pushing her hand up under your chin, forcing your lips back around the cold thing. 

A long moment of silence spent staring at just how stunning she looked, and then she clicked her tongue against her teeth, tapping your chin. You opened your mouth as she pulled the thermometer out, holding it in front of her and trying to catch the light so she could read it. 

“You are so beautiful,” you started, hand brushing over her arm. But then she frowned. Your heart dropped. “Please tell me I don’t have a fever, too...”

The soft, reassuring smile she offered you gave you some peace, but when she moved to the kitchen and shuffled through the medicine cabinet, you couldn’t help but worry. 

“How bad is it?” you asked as she returned, two painkillers and a glass of water in hand. 

She waited for you to put them in your mouth and take a sip of water before answering. 

“One hundred and two point six.”

You nodded. Honestly at this point you didn’t know what else to do.

Audrey bent down and kissed your forehead before sliding past you and settling down beside you on the couch. 

“Audrey, what the hell are you doing? You’re going to ruin your dress.” 

She shushed you, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling up against you. 

“But you—“

She shushed you again. So you whispered.

“You look so perfect, please don’t ruin all of that just to hug me. So much effort was put into today, and I’m perfectly fi—“

A coughing fit broke your words, and Audrey’s eyes went wide as she rubbed your back. 

“Oh darling,” she murmured, pressing another kiss to your forehead when you finished. “Come here. Lay with me.”

You shook your head no, but she was tugging on you, murmuring “yes”, and before you knew it you were snuggled into her side, her fingers combing through your hair as she hummed. 

It was tantric, and you lost all concept of time, didn’t quite know if you were asleep or awake. 

Until there was a loud knock on the door and Audrey startled. 

You sprung up, head spinning, and you braced your hand on her thigh to steady yourself. “Is everything okay?” You managed, blinking away stars. 

“Of course, darling,” Audrey replied smoothly, and then she was off the couch, walking to the door in a crumpled dress. 

The door was barely open and there was a whirlwind of sound, Audrey’s manager and wardrobe team blowing into the apartment. 

“We need to go. Now. What took so long? The car is outside. Come on, you’re going to be late. Ladies, let’s give her a once over and we’re out the door.”

“Oh my god, what happened to your dress?!” One of the wardrobe girls screeched, and you fought a groan at the pitch of it all. 

But Audrey, your brilliant, beautiful, sensitive Audrey, was right there, shushing them all sternly and dragging them into the kitchen. 

You couldn’t quite hear them. Couldn’t follow the conversation. But you caught pieces.

“What do you mean you’re not going?” Audrey’s manager. A harsh whisper. 

“Oh my god, I’m going to have to completely redo your makeup here. What smudged all of your blush like this?”

“No. Get out of the dress. It needs to be steamed again.”

“Audrey this isn’t funny. Do you know how many people want you there? Are expecting you to be there?”

“Stop batting my hand away and let me fix your lipstick!”

“You don’t want them to have to accept it for you. Do you know what that will do to your reputation?”

You could hear Audrey’s voice threaded through it all, soft and calm and ever so polite. But you couldn’t pick out her words. 

And then she was back, smiling at you as she leaned over the back of the couch. 

“No,” you said firmly, shaking your head and trying your best to sit up. 

“You’re not going to change my mind, darling,” Audrey replied smoothly. 

“You’re not missing this,” you tried again, covering a cough as you sat up further. “Audrey you’re not missing this. You’ve wanted this for so long. I’m completely and totally fine. You’re going.” 

You stared her down the best you could, jaw setting, and she held your gaze. But then she blinked, eyebrow quirking up sadly. 

“Alright. Let me go tell them.”

She retreated back to the kitchen, shaking her head and gesturing at her manager. Your eyes had just caught on the pins in her hair, pearls and diamonds, when your stomach clenched and you sprung off the couch, stumbling back to the bathroom. 

There was barely anything left to heave up, this was only because of the medicine. You shouldn’t have taken the painkillers, should have said something, but Audrey was trying so hard and you trusted her and honestly you would have done the same thing if it was her that had a fever. 

You choked on a few coughs, sniffing against the burning in your nose. And then there was a hand on your back. 

“You need to go,” you tried weakly, waving Audrey off. “I’ll be okay, you need to go before you’re late.”

“It’s just an award show, love. There will be plenty of others.”

A few more coughs as you choked on the words, gagging around the fire in your throat. “Audrey, please. This only happens once a year, and how long have you been waiting to go? To sit down front and walk up on that stage? I’ll be sick again, I’m sure, and you can take care of me then, okay?”

A soft knock on the bathroom doorframe, and as you glanced over you saw Audrey’s manager leaning against the door. 

“Audrey,” she prompted softly, and this time it was guilt that twisted your stomach and made you arch over the toilet. But nothing happened. You coughed and sputtered and nothing came out. You missed Audrey shake her head no, her hand never faltering as she rubbed circles over your back. Missed her manager quirk her brow as Audrey shook her head again. All you knew was that suddenly the apartment was still and quiet, and when you protested and told Audrey she needed to catch up with them, needed to go, she pulled you up with a soft “tough shit, darling” and pressed the sweetest kiss to your forehead. 

~~~ 

“And the Saturn Award goes to...”

You bit your lip, glancing over at Audrey and tightening your grip on her hand. The seconds stretched on for days, the presenter opening the envelope agonizingly slow, and you didn’t think you heard Audrey breathing the entire time. She was just a little bit too stiff. A little bit too “fake happy”. As if she didn’t realize that there wasn’t a camera on her.

“Audrey Tindall, My Roanoke Nightmare.” 

Audrey’s eyes went wide, her hand slackening in yours. “Oh my god...”

And you couldn’t help but squeal as you squeezed her to you and nuzzled your nose into her neck. “Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations” you mumbled against her skin, and she still hadn’t moved, eyes glued to the television. You leaned up, mouth on her ear. “You deserve it, gorgeous. Every single ounce of it. I am so incredibly proud of you. I knew you would win.”

She seemed to snap out of her daze then, fingers twining back into yours as she smiled down at you. That pure smile. Radiant joy. Tongue pushed against teeth and eyes watering at the edges. 

“I did it,” she breathed, shoulders slumping just so as her brow quirked up. A soft sigh. “I did it.” 

And as you nodded, giggling, she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you against her chest and falling back against the arm of the couch. She peppered kisses in your hair and you couldn’t help but beam at her, nuzzling your nose against hers. Until you broke away in a coughing fit.

“Oh, heavens,” she murmured, sliding her hands over your shoulders and pushing you up so that you could catch your breath. The coughing almost drowned out the awkward sound of a microphone screeching, and you paused, swallowing your cough and glancing at Audrey before looking at the screen. The presenter adjusted the microphone, holding the Saturn Award close to their chest. Leaned down to speak. And you didn’t know how, but everything was still happening in slow motion.

You curled back into Audrey as the presenter opened their mouth, and her fingers immediately came up to rub gently at your scalp. 

“Unfortunately Audrey couldn’t be here tonight,” they started, and you almost missed the disappointed groans from the audience, moaning at the feel of her nails on your scalp. She always knew the best way to calm you down. Magic fingers.

But they were upset, and the presenter had the audacity to say “I know” and roll their eyes. Audrey stiffened under you, huffing as her brow pulled up. “Oh come on. Seriously? Lord, can’t I have one day?”

You scratched your fingers over her arms reassuringly, pressing a kiss to her neck. 

“So the Academy will accept the award on her behalf.” The presenter finished, nodding curtly and walking off the stage, and then the music played and the next category was up and you reached over Audrey for the remote to mute the television.

There was a long moment of silence as you watched the next presenter come on, watched their mouth move over scripted words. And then you looked up at Audrey. 

You had expected her to be hurt, expected her to be crying. But she looked pissed. 

“Are you okay?” You tried gently, swallowing against the burning in your throat. 

At that she looked down at you, trance broken, and she smiled. 

“Of course I’m okay, sweetheart.” She pressed a kiss to your temple, your forehead, your nose, your lips. “I just won a Saturn and I’m holding the most beautiful woman in the world. I couldn’t be better if I tried.”

You beamed at her, snuggling further against her to gather more of her heat. But then your smile faltered. 

“But what about your fans? The press? Won’t there be backlash that you...”

“Didn’t go?”

You nodded. 

“Oh absolutely.”

Your smile melted, tears burning your nose as you bit down on your lip. But then her finger was under your chin and she tilted your face to hers. 

“But there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

~~~ 

“They should be coming in right about...” she trailed off, swiping down on her phone and biting her lip as the loading wheel scrolled. “Yep. Now.”

You watched as the comments piled up, the tags, the photos, the videos, the gifs. Even a few memes. And for heaven’s sake, it had only been eleven minutes. 

Tears pricked your eyes at the thought that you had done this. It was your fault. She would have to deal with all of this and it was all your fault. 

Your stomach churned and you sat up quickly, hand covering your mouth. Audrey immediately dropped her phone on the table, launching herself upright and rubbing over your back, mouth by your ear. 

“It’s okay, baby. You’re okay. You’re not going to throw up. I promise. You’re okay.”

You let out a long breath, hesitating while you mentally checked yourself over. But no, it had passed. And then she was there, wrapping her arms around you so gently and pulling you back down against her chest and into the couch. She tucked the blanket up to your chin and kissed your forehead, and you couldn’t help but snuggle into her, wrapping your arms around her waist and relishing how warm she was. 

You sat that like for a moment, eyes growing heavy as her hand skimmed up and down your arm, and then Audrey’s phone rang and it jolted you awake. 

She swiped it off of the table as you looked up at her, thumbing over the screen and tapping it to speaker phone. 

“Hello?” She answered, and there was a touch of impatience in her voice. 

“I have Entertainment Tonight and Hollywood Reporter.” Audrey’s manager. “Which do you want first?”

Audrey sighed, rubbing at her temple. “Now’s not really a good time, you know,” she started, placing a soft kiss to your hairline. You caught her eyes as her manager ranted, mouthing that you were okay. That she should take the call. Her brow pushed up questioningly and you nodded. Another sigh. “Okay. Okay, yes, I understand. Hollywood Reporter first, I suppose.”

You hated how tired you were, how your eyes burned and your body ached as you leeched as much heat from Audrey as you could. But it had been a long day, exhausting in more ways than one, and with Audrey’s voice so sweet in the phone, her accent a little thicker than it needed to be as she smiled and talked and inevitably wooed the reporter on the other end, your eyes grew heavy and you finally warmed up just enough to fall into a deep sleep, the sound of her voice reverberating through her chest, against her heartbeat, and into your ear. 

~~~

When you woke, Audrey hadn’t moved an inch, but it must have been the middle of the night because there was some random programming droning on the television. You thought it was strange that she hadn’t changed it, until you looked up and saw her frowning down at her phone. You shifted against her and her fingers came up to stroke through your hair as she mumbled a lazy “shh, it’s okay, I’m right here.” She cooed at you, eyes still pinned to her screen as her brow creased. 

“What’s wrong...?” you tried, wincing at just how raw your throat was, at just how hoarse you sounded. It must have gotten worse as you slept because tears pricked your eyes at the pain. 

Audrey looked down at you, immediately locking her phone when she realized you were awake. You tried to prop yourself up, but you hadn’t eaten in almost twenty-four hours and you were weak and you wobbled. Her hands tucked up under your arms, tugging you against her, holding you close and letting you rest your head on her chest.

“Nothing is wrong, darling,” she said softly, pressing a kiss to your head as she reached for her phone. “People are just so angry that I wasn’t there. I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

She thumbed through tweets, comments, direct messages, flipping between social media platforms. And fuck. That wasn’t good. 

You waited for your stomach to twist from guilt, waited to feel sick, but nothing came. You let yourself relax, melting into Audrey as you reached up and scrolled over her phone, tapped on a few comments. 

“It’s just an award show,” she continued, her brow pulled down tight. “What does it matter if I was there or not? And they’re all saying I don’t care. Of course I care, I just—“

She cut off, lip caught between her teeth. 

You glanced at her, brow furrowing as you dove back into her phone. Anger was starting to knot over your heart because she was a good person. She had just been trying to help you. And these people, they acted like they knew her. But they had no idea. 

“Hey darling?” She tried softly, and when her voice got that low, that sweet, it reverberated through your body. 

You hummed, scrolling past a long thread about how she must not have been able to find something to wear. How no designer would create for her. How she had gained weight and wouldn’t be seen by the cameras. You rolled your eyes. 

“I’m just going to take your picture, alright?”

That snapped you back to reality. 

“What? No!” You looked at her incredulously, brows pushed up. “Audrey I look a mess, I’ve been sick all day, I just woke up. No.”

“I just need to take one little picture and post it and I promise everything will be okay, alright?”

But then she pulled those puppy dog eyes, those big, watery puppy dog eyes that she knew you couldn’t resist.

You groaned. “Fuck. Okay, fine. But just one.”

And as she straightened the washcloth on your forehead, stretched her arm out and got the camera at the right angle, as she tilted her head and pursed her lips that way, you curled into her, hands digging into her dress as you scrunched your nose and buried your face in her chest. 

You heard the click of the camera and you pulled back. She pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“Thank you, darling.”

“Let me see?”

And damn, it was a good picture. Audrey was glowing, despite the dim, warm lighting of the room. She was posed perfectly, the light catching whatever contour and highlight hadn’t been rubbed off from you nuzzling against her cheek. Her lips were pursed, lipstick faded but absolutely perfect. And you were curled into her, a washcloth covering most of your forehead. The rest of you was so pale, your red nose and the dark circles under your eyes sitting in stark contrast. And the way you were cringing into her, you looked frail. Sickly. 

“Great,” you mumbled, leaning your head against her shoulder. “I look like I have the plague.”

She shushed you, pressing a kiss to your head as she swiped her finger over the screen. “You look beautiful, as always.”

And as she typed the description on the photo, pausing and starting and debating and deleting, you reached down and pulled your socks off, dropping them on the floor. It was getting warm, and you had a feeling your fever was on the verge of breaking, and as the room heated up you decided you should also slip out of your pants. 

Audrey finished typing, pressed the post button, and glanced over at you. Froze, brow pushed up incredulously. 

“What on earth are you doing?”

“I’m hot,” you mumbled, kicking the blanket down your legs. 

“Oh?” She chuckled, brushing a few stray hairs off of your forehead as they started to stick. 

“Mhm,” you whined, and you knew it was a good thing but it was so unpleasant. 

And then there was Audrey, reading your mind again as she peeled the washcloth off your forehead, lifted you gently and settled you against the other side of the couch, getting up and moving to the kitchen. 

The sink ran and her phone started blowing up, vibrating like crazy. The sound burned into your head and you whined, pulling at your shirt because the world was too hot and too loud and you just wanted Audrey back. 

She walked around the couch, wet washcloth in hand, and you reached for her pathetically, full grabby hands. She hummed, biting down on a smile, and dabbed the cool washcloth over your hairline as you pressed yourself back into her. She kissed your head, stroking her fingers so lightly over your arms it made you shiver and god it felt good when you were this hot. 

“Don’t leave me again,” you mumbled, eyes growing heavy despite the heat. 

The last thing you heard was a a soft chuckle and her murmuring, “It’s a good thing I didn’t go to the show, huh?”

~~~

When you woke the next morning, she had fallen asleep, head dropped over on the side of the couch and legs curled up under her. Her dress was ruined from where you had laid on her all night, still damp from your sweat. Her arm twitched around you and you slid your hand into hers, leaning up and pressing a kiss to her shoulder. 

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m right here. Go back to sleep.”

She grumbled something, turning and burying her face in your neck. You smiled, listening to the steady rhythm of her breath because this might have been your favorite part of dating Audrey — getting to see her so relaxed and soft and needy. She got so needy when she slept. 

Her name on the television caught your attention, and you stretched cautiously for the remote, turning the volume up two ticks. 

“...after fans went after her on social media for missing the event. She replied with this photo, consequently silencing any rumors on why she did not attend.”

The photo she took last night, you curled into her crumpled awards dress, flashed up on the screen, along with a zoomed in photo of her comment. Your eyes tracked over it and you smiled, turning and pressing a kiss to the top of Audrey’s head as she mumbled incoherently. 

“Oh you smart girl, you.”

"Maybe I am, but don't tell my fiancee." He winked at you, kissing the top of your head with a smile. "I'll let you finish getting ready. We have to leave by 6:00!" He grinned and you nodded, pressing play on your phone once again when he left. He still gave you butterflies.

A few more hours had passed and you were slipping into your dress. It was dark red, the fabric cinching in at the waist, thin straps, and fairly low cut. It had small maroon glittering studs covering every inch. Rory had been talking about how excited he was to see you in it since the day he had surprised you with it. Your hair was done, long eyelashes were on, and your lips were painted with your favorite nude. You slipped into your tall black heels, looking at yourself in the mirror with a smile. You felt so incredibly confident, and honestly couldn't wait to see all the pictures of you and your soon to be husband on social media. You stepped out of your walk in closet to see Rory looking in his own mirror, straightening out his matching maroon bow tie, his jaw almost visibly dropping when he saw you walk out. "Holy shit!" He turned around to face you, taking a few steps towards you before snaking his arms around your waist. Your cheeks got hot. "(Y/N...)" He started, "You look absolutely amazing." His eyes kept on scanning you up and down. "You're so pretty." He whispered, pressing his lips into yours, pulling your body tighter against his own. He deepened your kiss, forcing a chill down your spine. "Rory, if you keep kissing me like that then we're not going anywhere." You teased him, running your thumb along his cheek, making him smile. "Okay then, let's go." He beamed, "Our car is waiting."

You couldn't manage to wipe the smile off of your face as Rory's hand was wrapped around your waist and you had cameras flashing for you two in every single direction. Every chance Rory had to announce you as his fiancee, he definitely did. Always grabbing your hand to show off the stunning diamond on your finger, pressing a kiss into your cheek. "So, (Y/N), how do you feel about Rory being so close with Ms. Audrey Tindall?" One interviewer asked, raising an eyebrow. Rory had talked to you about this - they'll try to stir up drama for more views. Don't fall for it. "Oh, I love Audrey! I'm so glad that Rory gets along with his cast mates." You grinned, seeing Rory do the same out of the corner of your eye. "It doesn't bother you that she's been named as a flirt?" They kept pressing, you never let your smile falter.

"Flirting is just flirting. I trust Rory with my life and Audrey is such a sweetheart." You stated, "It's been a pleasure." And with that, you grabbed Rory's hand and pulled yourself out of the situation, making your way further down the red carpet. "Your answers were perfect baby." He whispered in your ear, giving your hand a squeeze. You'd hadn't even met Audrey yet. And you'd never heard of her being a flirt on set. But even if she was, your answer was honest; you trusted Rory implicitly. That interview had marked the end of the picture taking red carpet stuff, it was time for the actual event. You were sat at a table with the rest of the cast, finally meeting Audrey in person - you two clicked immediately. She couldn't help but laugh when you told her about the interviewer, "Yeah, they'll try to stir up drama wherever they can. I'm sure Rory told you that, though." She grinned between the two of you. The premier went by quickly, it was mostly just chatting with whoever was at your table, a short trailer for the series, and listening to the directors talk up on stage with the cast and crew behind them. The whole time you were unable to take your eyes off of your fiance. He looked amazing - that goofy little smile on his face, he looked like he was glowing. 

You were sure that you screamed the loudest at every glimpse of his character - you were going to have to tease him about his powdered wig get up when you got home. Soon enough the premier was over, and Rory linked your arm around his, walking you two back out to your car. He'd turned down all the after party offers. 

"We can go out tonight," You looked up at him, "Don't feel obligated to go home just because I'm a little tired." You said, giving his hand a squeeze. "It's not about you, babe. I can't stand looking at you and not being able to rip this dress off." He whispered against your ear, planting a secret kiss on your neck just below your ear, making you shudder in response. He helped you into your car, smiling at you as you two began the drive home.

"Home sweet home." Rory sighed when you two walked through the large front doors. It wasn't long before his hands were wrapped around your hips, pressing you tightly against the doors he had just locked. "I can't explain to you how fuckin' beautiful you look." He said quietly, pressing his lips to yours as if his life depended on it. His hands held you tightly through the soft fabric of your dress as he kissed you hungrily. You tilted your chin up, silently telling him how badly you needed him. His lips traveled to your neck, gliding along it softly, moving to bite at your earlobe. He smirked and turned so you had him against the door. "Let's go upstairs." You smirked at him, kissing him once before kicking your heels off and stepping up the stairs, Rory following close behind, giving your ass a playful smack.

You two made it to the bedroom in record time, accidentally slamming the door behind you. Instantly, your hands were all over each other, you worked at the buttons of his shirt as he pulled at the zipper of your dress, kicking all your clothes to the corner of the room until you two were each left in your underwear. You pushed your hands against his chest, forcing him to fall back onto the bed, immediately crawling over his lap. The excitedness had worn off and you two were both equally desperate for each other. You tangled a hand in his red hair and tugged it back, pressing your lips firmly against his neck, grinding into his growing length that rested between your thighs. He moaned loudly as you sucked a hickey into his neck, knowing you would get shit for it later. But that didn't matter right now. 

You could feel his breath getting more and more shallow as you kissed along his neck and down to his chest, moving down his stomach to play with the waistband of his boxers, ever so slowly sliding them down your legs, making him squirm with desperation. It was a fun little power exchange you two had going on in the bedroom. You threw his boxers to the pile of the rest of your clothes, looking up at him from between his legs, dragging your tongue from the base to the tip of his cock, watching him throw his head back and let out a satisfied groan. 

"I've been waiting for this all night baby girl, don't tease me." He sounded breathless and it only turned you on more to know how badly he needed you. "Mm, or what?" You teased, swirling your tongue around the tip, nails scratching down his stomach. Something about making him feel submissive was such a big turn on for you. He was so dominant and bold in every day life, it was nice to see him let go once in awhile. "Please..." He whimpered, hands moving to hold your hair into a pony tail, getting a good look at your face as you smiled, slowly taking his length into your mouth, teasingly beginning to bob your head up and down over him. He couldn't take his eyes off of you, a few obscenities falling from his lips mixed with quiet praise to you.

"Good girl..." He hissed, thrusting his hips upwards a bit, "You make me feel so good..." His voice was raspy and he picked up his pace, his cock sliding down your throat effortlessly, his moans unrestrained. You let him control your speed for awhile before he pulled you up by your makeshift pony tail, smiling when he heard you gasping now you could finally breathe freely. He leaned up and pushed you onto your back now, taking no time to push your legs up to your chest and holding them there, moving between your thighs and brushing your clit with his tongue - just once. "Hey, you don't get to tease me now." You whined, closing your eyes. He kissed your thighs a few times before returning to your clit - he could never make you beg for very long. He got off on making you feel good. You gasped when he began batting his tongue over your clit quickly, squeezing your legs he still held in place. "Fuck..." You moaned, only encouraging him to go faster. Much sooner than usual, you felt yourself getting close, his tongue working expertly against the little bundle of nerves. 

"Rory I'm gonna-" You mewled, legs twitching involuntarily. You felt him smile slightly against you, moving your legs so they were resting over his shoulders. He didn't slow down though, he only moved harder and faster, desperate to make you cum. And you did, quickly. You arched your back, hands seeking for something to hold on to as that tight coil in your stomach finally burst, making you cry out in ecstasy. Rory helped you ride out your orgasm, not stopping until you were breathless and shaking. He leaned up from between your thighs, that cocky little smile spread across his lips. You couldn't let him stay this cocky though, so before you were even done coming down from your high, you shoved him onto his back, taking his jaw in your hand and straddling his hips. You ground your soaked pussy against his length, quickly forcing his cocky smirk away. You ghosted your lips over his, almost kissing him but not allowing it, making him audibly whimper before leaning up right. You grabbed the base of his cock, holding it steady as you slid down his length, the two of you moaning in unison. Rory's hands tried to move to your hips but you stopped him, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down next to his head. "Don't touch." You hissed, holding him tightly as you began bouncing your hips against his. You knew he could easily over power you, but he loved being dominated as much as you loved doing it. You picked up your pace, riding him quickly. The room was filled with his loud, needy moaning and the sound of your skin hitting his. You were riding him as deep as you could, watching his face twist with pleasure. "How's that pussy feel baby?" You growled, watching as his eyes met yours, jaw hanging open.

"You're so amazing...you feel perfect." He hummed, fists clenching as he got closer and closer.

"Cum inside me." You commanded him, now riding him as quickly as you could, each of you breathing hard. All he did was stare at you with a mix of shock and desperation.

"Did I stutter? I said cum inside me."

You finally released his wrists and leaned back a bit, grinding circles against his hips as he bottomed out inside of you. With this, you felt him finish, his hands attaching to your ass, groping at it roughly as he came inside of you, filling you up, making you moan from the sensation. You two looked at each other, chests heaving. You smiled when he pulled you down on top of him, chests pressing together. One hand came up to play with your hair, sitting in silence for a few minutes as each of you calmed down a bit. You felt him turn his head and you looked up to meet his eyes.

"What, why are you looking at me like that?" You smiled, his eyes looked happy.

"You're going to be my wife in a few months. I just love you so much." He kissed your forehead and pulled you down once again to snuggle into his neck. You felt his breath get even, and yours did too, moments away from sleeping when you heard his sleepy voice, quiet against your hair.

"Mine. Only mine."