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English
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Part 4 of Staticmoth Week 2025
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Published:
2025-04-05
Words:
666
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1/1
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9
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Romance in Hell is Alive and Well

Summary:

In retrospect, Vox would come to the conclusion that perhaps bringing marriage up while Val was balls deep inside of him was not one of his best or brightest ideas.

Staticmoth week day 5: proposal

Notes:

Stuck to 666, though really this needed more words. Will probably do one more for this prompt, and then one for the marriage prompt :)

A continuation of the previous prompt, Starstruck

Work Text:

In retrospect, Vox would come to the conclusion that perhaps bringing marriage up while Val was balls deep inside of him was not one of his best or brightest ideas. In his defense, during sex was pretty much the only time he wasn't fully in control of the shit spewing out of his mouth, so it was probably inevitable that it would backfire on him sooner or later no matter how much Val claimed it turned him on.

"Wait, the fuck did you say?" Val had stopped, now hunched over him unmoving, dick still twitching inside Vox's ass the bastard he'd been so close the fucking tease—

"What?" Vox choked out distractedly, unable to escape Val's wide-eyed, incredulous gaze given he was currently bent full in half with his knees pressed nearly to his shoulders, Val's solid weight and multiple limbs an inescapable, delicious pressure. "Val, please—" He could hardly breathe—though that was kind of the point—and when the hand wrapped around his neck loosened so he could speak more easily he let out a sobbed, frustrated gasp as the cusp of his orgasm began to recede out of reach. "I hate you."

Val's expression was unreadable. "You said—and I quote—'would you still fuck me like this if we got married?'"

"I didn't," Vox said automatically, any lingering arousal rapidly being replaced by nausea as Val's expression only darkened. "I was—I could barely speak, you just misheard."

Val immediately pulled out and didn't even seem bothered by his stubbornly hard dick, the asshole, just sat up and narrowed his eyes as he leant over to fumble a cigarette from the pile of shit he'd left on Vox's bedside table. Even though it was the side Val had basically claimed for himself, and Vox left untouched. Fuck.

He closed his eyes and roughly scrubbed at his screen with the palms of his hands. "Yeah, I—look," he began, voice faintly muffled, "I didn't mean to bring it up like that."

The familiar scent of Val's smoke began to surround him, curling deliciously within his chest, warm and familiar, relaxing his limbs as he inhaled.

"Didn't think you were the marrying type," Val said, a strange tension in his voice that Vox couldn't quite read. He peered briefly between his fingers to find Val staring at him contemplatively, two arms resting on his knees as another held the cigarette to his mouth.

"I'm not." Without looking Vox stretched out an arm and waved his hand vaguely in Val's direction. Vox knew he couldn't be too pissed when a cigarette was shoved between his fingers, and he risked another glance as he brought it to his mouth. "And neither are you! It's redundant, it's reductive, it's—" he broke off sucking in a lungful of disappointing smoke that did nothing to loosen the knot in his chest. Ugh, he wanted Val's—"and it always, without fail, turns things to shit."

Val only rolled his eyes, without warning suddenly twisting to loom over Vox once more, pinning him down with the all-encompassing possessiveness and strength that always made his stomach flutter. Fuck, he loved feeling that Val wanted him.

"You don't want to publicly claim me, amorcito?" Val, ten-foot tall monster that he was, was practically pouting. Vox stared at him, nonplussed; how could he be so fucking oblivious to the ways Vox staked his claim every single day— "My answer is yes, by the way," Val added.

"What?" Vox's screen almost glitched out as his eyes widened, Val leaning in to exhale that perfect warm smoke against his mouth, silky and pleasing.

"Yes, I'll still fuck you like this after we get married." Hands crept lower to grope at Vox's thighs and shove them apart unceremoniously, Val's smile lascivious and smug as he slid down to tongue relentlessly at Vox's asshole. Romantic. Honestly, though—where Val was concerned—Vox really wouldn't change a thing. The rest he would deal with—later. Fuck.

He'd said yes.

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