Vox: A FanFic/X-Reader

Chapter Twenty

I wake with strips of sunlight across my legs. He's curled around me. His bicep is my pillow. The rest of his arm bars across my shoulders, tucked beneath my chin. His other snakes between my breasts. My arm rests over his, tucked around his wrist. One of his heavy thighs nestles between mine. My ankle curls around his calf. His face, buried in the back of my hair, releases a soft breath, rustling my hair.

It's impossible not to smile or wiggle.

"Keep doing that," he says, because of course, he's awake. His arms tighten around me. Using his chin, he pushes my hair to the side. It tickles, causing me to wiggle more. "I love when you do what I say," he groans, kissing my neck.

I twist in his arms until we're face to face. Using my thumbs, I trace his brows and then graze the fringe of his lashes. My fingertips move to his cheekbones, down the hollows to the outer edge of his lip. "It's probably good we can't see each other every day. We'd get nothing done," I tease.

"Let's go do something together, just us."

"Something with clothes?"

"Will you spend the day wearing clothes and pretending we're normal with me?"

"Yes."

"What are we doing?"

I glance at the clock. It's 8:30 AM. "Unless we're going to church, I'm not sure."

"Looks like we have time."

We spend it reminding each other of all the things we'll miss when we leave tomorrow. After, we order breakfast, nap, and start over at eleven. If there's one thing we do well, it's sex.

I wake up and need to pee. Scooting off the end of the bed, I handle business and wash my hands. When I walk back, he's stretched his arm out across the bed like he's reaching for me in his sleep. This might be the first time I've been awake before him.

Deciding to let him sleep, I go to war in the kitchen in a battle of wills with the coffeemaker. It's too complex for my uncaffeinated brain. I feel like a mouse in a maze trying to figure out where to put the pod and which buttons to push. Eventually, it sputters and hisses, dripping into the cup. When finished, I add sugar. I expect it to be mediocre after all the work I put into it, but it's not. Definitely worth the battle.

I check texts and send a few off, reminding everyone I'm alive.

The terrace doors beckon me forward. Peeking out, I blink away the burn, blinded by too much sunlight all at once.

Before I realize it, I'm leaning against the door frame, watching him sleep like a creeper.

I tried letting him sleep. Does he try too?

My mind wanders. Payback! And it's my turn. Oh, I can—

Moving to the other room, I search for something to tie him with. Not many options. Fish nets! I rip them in half and grab a pair of panties.

On silent feet, I reenter the room. I secure one arm fast. He doesn't flinch. The other arm is harder because I need to move it. Or—

I fasten it and then leave the loop draped over his other wrist. Now, I need them close together.

The panties lay beside his pillow. It's not like I've been wearing many of the pairs I brought.

Carefully, I pull the sheet off of him. He doesn't move. I slide my leg over him, reaching for his arm. No resistance as I loop his wrist through.

"What are we doing, succubus?" he asks, and I jump.

"Hi," I say, with a chuckle. "I wanted to have a nap and thought maybe if I tie you up, I could sleep awhile?"

"Is that a question, my love?"

"No?"

"Good to know. What are we doing?"

Leaning over him, I slip the panties into my palm and slide them beside his face. "I'm kissing you." And I do.

Right before I cram them in his mouth.

"No more talking." I sit back to look at him.

"Are these clean?" he asks with a muffled voice.

"Does it matter?" I cackle.

He shrugs as if to say, Do your worst.

I drag my nails down his chest, and he shivers under my touch. "You said it could be my turn, but you keep taking over. Maybe you need a spanking." I tap my lip as if in thought.

He shudders under me, and I know he's laughing.

"Stop laughing. I'm going to give you something to not laugh about." I pinch his nipple.

"Yes, ma'am."

"None of your mommy shit."

He spits the panties out. "You're adorable." He breaks through the makeshift ties and flips us so fast, the air whooshes from my lungs. "Did you really think—what is that? Seriously, what is this?" He holds his wrist up, inspecting the fabric with a cocky grin.

"RIP fishnets."

He shakes his head, smirking. "You thought it would hold me?"

"I thought it's my turn, and you'd play along."

"Then you're not paying attention."

"What does that mean?"

"What were you going to do?"

"Rock your world?"

"You already do."

"My turn."

"For?"

"Do you run your plans by me before you do them?"

"That's valid. Okay, you win."

I smile and try to get up. He grabs my wrists and holds them above my head. "Well?" I ask, pressing my wrists into his palms.

He smiles, and it wrecks me in the best way. It's one of those smiles that implores me to do anything to keep it going, to be the cause of it, the focus of it, but it's also cocky enough, it says, I know you'll agree.

"After we get back from wherever, whatever, I promise. But I think you like it when it's my turn."

"I do like it a lot. But I want to watch you break for me."

"Okay. We can do that."

(Author note: Should I do a chapter from Vox's POV?)