Thinking about Vox shock training you, giving you a shock every time you make him upset or go against his wishes, definitely the type to say "this hurts me more than it hurts you" when he's enjoying every second of it (and maybe you are too 👀)
Smoke drifted lazily through the abandoned warehouse, pooling beneath the cracked ceiling where rusted support beams groaned with every passing train overhead. The room smelled of gunpowder, stale alcohol, and dried blood—a scent so familiar that none of the gathered sinners seemed to notice anymore.
Folding tables had been pushed together into a crude meeting space, littered with maps, empty bottles, ammunition, and the occasional bloodstain that nobody had bothered to clean.
The atmosphere was tense. No one spoke for several long seconds. Finally, one of the snipers broke the silence. "...So." He rubbed the back of his neck. "We're... not seriously talking about going after the Radio Demon... right?”
A chorus of uncomfortable mutters spread through the room. Someone barked out a humorless laugh. "The fuck do you think we are? Suicidal?"
Another leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "Forget it. Alastor's on a completely different level. There ain't enough money in Hell for me to pick a fight with that psychopath."
The gang's leader drummed his fingers against the table, his expression darkening. "Who said anything about going after him?" The room slowly quieted as every eye turned toward him. A cruel smile spread across his face. "That bastard deer's untouchable... for now. But that little upstart who's been following him around?" His smile widened. "She's another story."
A murmur spread throughout the room. One of the demons frowned. "You mean the Gaming Overlord?" The leader nodded. "Exactly. She's still new. Strong? Sure. But she's still building her reputation. She embarrassed us, and blew half our crew off a rooftop." His jaw clenched. "People start thinking they can get away with that, and we're finished."
The leader sat back in his chair, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "Teach the little Overlord a lesson," he said quietly. "Make her understand that climbing the ladder in Hell has consequences." Around him, heads nodded in agreement, and somewhere in the shadows, the first plans for an ambush began to take shape.
Vox settled into the backseat of his limousine with a weary sigh, the door closing behind him that shut out most of Pentagram City's chaos. The city rolled past outside the tinted windows in a blur of neon signs and smoke, yet his attention wasn't on the skyline or the reports glowing on the tablet in his lap. He crossed one leg over the other, fingers absently straightening his bowtie before letting out an irritated scoff.
He wasn't going because he cared what you did in your free time.
No.
He was going because he refused to work alongside someone who willingly kept company with an outdated relic like Alastor.
That was all. It was purely professional. If his business partner was associating with one of VoxTek's greatest rivals, he had every right—every obligation—to clarify where your loyalties stood.
*
Your office had finally fallen quiet after what felt like an endless stream of meetings, design reviews, investor calls, and paperwork. The towering windows behind your desk overlooked the sprawling city, their glass reflecting the reddish glow of Hell. You leaned back into your chair with a tired sigh, rubbing your temples as another report landed in the ever-growing pile awaiting your signature. Running a company was glamorous only until one actually had to run it.
A polite knock sounded against the door before it opened just enough for Salina to step inside, her tablet already in hand. She offered you her usual professional smile, though even she looked sympathetic after watching you work through most of the day without a proper break. "Ma'am," she began, scrolling through the day's appointments, "there has been a slight addition to your schedule."
You hummed absentmindedly, still signing a document.
"Mr. Vox has arranged a meeting with you this afternoon."
Your pen froze.
For reasons you absolutely refused to examine, your spine straightened almost instantly. The exhaustion vanished from your posture as if someone had poured ice water over your head. Your eyes lifted from the paperwork to Salina, who looked entirely oblivious to the tiny crisis she'd just caused.
"...He did?"
"Yes." She glanced down at her tablet. "His office requested confirmation this morning. I've already accepted on your behalf, considering the ongoing partnership."
You blinked. "...Right."
A strange nervousness settled somewhere in your stomach.
You frowned at it. Seriously?
It was Vox.
The same insufferable television-headed bastard you argued with every other conversation. You shook your head once, almost as though physically dislodging the memories from your mind.
There was no reason to be nervous.
You cleared your throat, picked your pen back up, and forced your expression back into one of calm professionalism. "...Continue."
Salina nodded without question.
"Following your meeting with Mr. Vox, you have a conference call with the western development division regarding the next expansion. After that, the legal department requires your approval on three licensing contracts, and your engineering team would like a final decision on the prototype demonstrations before tomorrow's presentation."
You listened carefully, jotting down a few notes as she continued through the remainder of your schedule.
You nodded, rising from your chair as you slipped your coat over your shoulders. "I'll inspect the land we've acquired for the western expansion first," you told Salina, gathering a few documents before setting them aside again. "After that, I'll have that meeting with Vox."
Salina gave a professional nod, making a note on her tablet. "Very well, ma'am. I'll inform the development team that you'll be arriving shortly."
You made your way out of the office, hoping the fresh air would settle the strange nerves that had crept up ever since you'd heard Vox wanted to see you.
Your district was alive as always. Neon signs glowed proudly above bustling storefronts while arcades buzzed with excited customers. Cafés spilled music onto the sidewalks, children chased one another between market stalls, and construction crews worked diligently on new buildings that would soon become part of your ever-growing empire. You couldn't help but smile.
You wandered at an easy pace, occasionally greeting familiar shop owners with a nod. It was rare that you allowed yourself moments like these—walking without an agenda, simply admiring everything your company had helped create.
Then the world exploded.
A thunderous blast ripped through the street ahead, the force shaking the ground beneath your feet. Pavement erupted into the air, storefront windows shattered in a shower of glass, and a dense cloud of smoke swallowed half the block. Civilians screamed, scattering in every direction as debris rained across the road. One of the streetlights toppled sideways, crashing into a parked car with a metallic screech.
You didn't flinch. Instead, your eyes slowly drifted downward toward the enormous crater now gouged into the middle of your street.
Your jaw tightened. For several agonizing seconds, you simply stared at the damage. Then heavy footsteps echoed from within the smoke.
Figures emerged one after another, they spread out confidently, expecting fear, panic... perhaps even a desperate attempt to flee.
Instead, they were met with your seething glare.
Your eye twitched. You took one slow step forward, your voice echoing across the ruined street. "WHO THE FUCK IS MESSING UP MY STREETS?!"
The mercenaries visibly hesitated.
You pointed furiously at the smoking crater. You threw both hands into the air in utter disbelief before glaring at the entire group. "You better pay the fuck up!"
The smoke slowly parted, revealing a dozen armed demons standing shoulder to shoulder.
A slow grin spread across your face. "...Didn't you have your fill before?"
The question earned nothing but sneers.
One of the snipers rubbed the scar running across his jaw where your rocket launcher had nearly taken his head off. "This time," he growled, "we came prepared."
The nearest mercenary roared and charged first, swinging a massive war axe toward your neck. You sidestepped at the last possible second, your hand snapping around the haft before the blade could complete its arc. Using his own momentum, you yanked him forward and drove your knee squarely into his ribs. Bone cracked audibly. Before he could even scream, you ripped the axe free and hurled it end over end into another attacker's chest, sending him crashing through the already shattered front window of a nearby electronics store.
Pain bloomed along your shoulder as the bullet grazed flesh instead of piercing your heart. You barely acknowledged it. Your gaze snapped upward toward the rooftop, your eyes narrowing.
"Oh..." You smiled. "There you are."
A massive pixelated cannon materialized above your shoulder.
The sniper's face drained of color. "...Shit."
The blast erased half the rooftop.
No matter how many you knocked down, two more seemed to replace them. The street became a whirlwind of smoke, magic, shattered concrete, and gunfire. Bodies littered the road while burning vehicles illuminated the battlefield in flickering orange light.
You were breathing harder now.
The crowd parted as the gang's leader stepped forward, clapping slowly. "I told you we'd learn from our mistakes."
He spread his arms proudly toward the army surrounding you. "Last time, we underestimated you." A cruel smile stretched across his scarred face. "So this time..." He gestured toward the mercenaries. "...we hired twice the numbers."
A ripple of cruel laughter spread through the crowd. "You've got nowhere to run."
You glanced around once more, taking in the sea of armed demons hemming you in from every direction. The odds had more than doubled.
Any sane person would've retreated. Lived to fight another day. But you weren’t going to run with your tail between your legs in your own district.
You slowly rolled your shoulders, wiped the blood from the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, and smiled. If they wanted your territory...
They were going to have to pry it from your corpse.
Vox arrived exactly on schedule.
His limousine slowed to a stop a block away from your headquarters, but instead of the orderly, bustling district he had heard of before, he was met with barricades, emergency crews, and blaring alarms. Several roads had been hastily sealed off.
Vox frowned. "...The hell?"
This wasn't normal.
Your district prided itself on efficiency. Even after minor incidents, your people had systems in place to restore order within minutes. For it to be under this level of lockdown...
Something had gone very, very wrong.
His screen flickered with annoyance as he attempted to connect to the nearest surveillance drone. Static flooded every feed before the signal died completely. "Useless..."
With a sharp crack of electricity, his body dissolved into blue lightning. A split second later, he rematerialized atop the roof of a nearby skyscraper, giving himself a clear vantage point over the district.
His expression darkened. Near the western development zone, an enormous plume of smoke billowed into the air. Without another thought, he teleported again.
The burst of electricity echoed through an abandoned intersection as he appeared several streets closer to the destruction.
Before he could continue, a group of rough-looking sinners rounded the corner ahead of him. Their clothes were torn, several carried fresh weapons, and more than one was sporting burns and bruises from what looked suspiciously like a very recent battle.
"...Ha!" One laughed, clutching his aching ribs. "We stuck her good!"
A blinding surge of blue electricity exploded from Vox's body.
The sinner barely had time to scream before thousands of volts coursed through him. His body convulsed violently, smoke rising from his clothes as he collapsed onto the pavement in an unconscious heap.
Silence.
The remaining demons froze.
Vox calmly lowered his hand, tiny arcs of electricity still dancing between his claws. "...Now."
Before anyone could react, he lunged forward.
One clawed hand wrapped around the nearest sinner's throat, effortlessly lifting him off the ground. The demon clawed frantically at Vox's wrist as static crackled across his body, every failed struggle rewarded with another painful shock.
The rest instinctively backed away.
Vox's screen glowed an ominous crimson beneath the usual blue. "You are going to give me the answers I need."
*
Your breathing had grown ragged.
Blood dripped steadily from the countless cuts carved across your arms and face, staining the ruined pavement beneath your feet. A deep gash along your side burned with every breath you took, forcing one hand to remain pressed firmly against the wound in a futile attempt to slow the bleeding. Around you, the street had become a battlefield of burning vehicles, shattered storefronts, and unconscious bodies. You'd taken down far more than anyone had expected—but eventually, even an Overlord had limits.
Weapons rose as they cautiously closed the circle, stepping over their fallen comrades with cruel grins. Their leader twirled a bloodstained knife between his fingers, confidence replacing the fear he'd worn earlier.
"Looks like it's over," he sneered. "No more room to run."
A few of the others chuckled, tightening their grip on their weapons. "You've got nowhere to escape."
You let out a short, breathless snort despite the blood trickling down your chin. "...Escape?"
You lifted your head, a tired but unmistakably dangerous smile spreading across your lips. "I wasn't trying to escape, dumbfuck."
The gang hesitated.
You pushed yourself upright despite the pain, removing your hand from your bleeding side. Crimson stained your fingertips, but you paid it no mind.
"Tell me..." Your smile sharpened into something almost predatory. "Do you know what happens when you corner a wounded animal?"
*
The next few minutes dissolved into meaningless fragments.
Steel clashed against conjured weapons. Magic exploded in flashes of blue and crimson. You vaguely remembered throwing another attacker through a wall, remembered someone screaming, remembered the sickening crack of your own ribs as a hammer connected with your side. Faces blurred together until they became little more than shadows lunging at you from every direction. Your legs felt heavier with every passing second, your vision narrowing as blood trickled into one eye. At some point, you stopped counting how many you'd brought down. At some point, survival had stopped being the objective.
Eventually...
Your knees struck the cracked pavement.
The impact barely registered.
You remained there, head hanging low, one hand planted weakly against the ground while the other clutched your bleeding side. Every breath felt like dragging broken glass into your lungs. Warm blood pooled beneath you, slowly seeping into the fractured asphalt of the district you'd refused to abandon.
So... this is it.
The realization settled over you with surprising calm.
You let out a quiet, annoyed huff. You were going to die because a bunch of bitter nobodies couldn't accept losing. What an irritating end.
Footsteps approached.
"...Stupid..."
A familiar voice.
"...Fucking..."
Another wet thud. A body hit the ground.
"...Idiots."
You forced your head upward despite every muscle protesting. Through the haze of smoke and blood, a figure carved a relentless path toward you. Blue electricity flashed between clawed fingers. Blood stained the sleeves of his immaculate suit, splattered across his hands and dripping from the sharp edges of his claws.
His screen flickered violently with static, his usual polished composure replaced by something far more dangerous.
Your exhausted mind struggled to process the sight.
He looked...
...Kind of sexy.
You blinked slowly. "...Huh."
Your thoughts were definitely failing you. It had to be blood loss. There was no other explanation for finding the world's most insufferable bastard attractive while he was committing what was rapidly becoming a small massacre.
You almost laughed. It came out as a weak cough instead.
Wonderful.
Not only were you dying...
You were apparently dying embarrassed. You'd wanted your final moments to have at least a shred of dignity.
The world became little more than fleeting moments.
You drifted helplessly between consciousness and darkness, unable to tell how much time had passed. Every so often, the agony would drag you back just enough to remind you that you were still alive. Every breath sent fire through your ribs, every heartbeat seemed to pump more warmth out of your body instead of through it. The sounds around you came muffled, as though you were submerged beneath deep water—distant sirens, crackling electricity, hurried footsteps, voices shouting orders that you couldn't quite make out.
Yet one sensation remained constant. Someone was carrying you.
Strong arms held you securely against a broad chest, careful not to jostle your injuries any more than necessary. You could faintly feel the vibration of quick, purposeful footsteps beneath you. Whoever it was refused to slow down.
"Hey. You are not dying today."
..Vox?
You weren't entirely sure. His voice sounded... different. You wanted to tell him that he was making an awfully big fuss over someone he supposedly couldn't stand.
The pain was unbearable.
It seeped into every part of you until it became impossible to distinguish where your body ended and the agony began. It would be so easy to stop fighting it. So easy to simply let your eyes remain closed this time. The darkness waiting at the edges of your consciousness felt strangely peaceful, promising silence instead of pain.
"You stay with me." You felt a clawed hand brush the hair away from your face with surprising gentleness. "You can hate me again tomorrow."
The strange conviction in his words reached somewhere deep inside the fog clouding your mind. You couldn't understand why he sounded so certain.
Consciousness returned slowly.
At first there was only warmth.
Not the oppressive heat of Hell, nor the sharp sting of pain that had consumed your body before everything went black. This warmth was... comfortable. Soft blankets cocooned you, the mattress beneath you was impossibly plush, and for the first time in what felt like forever, your body wasn't screaming in protest every time you breathed.
Something heavy shifted against your side. A deep, rumbling vibration followed.
Prrrrrrrr...
Your brow furrowed. "...What?"
Your vision gradually came into focus as you blinked away the lingering haze. The ceiling above you was unfamiliar, sleek and modern with recessed blue lighting running along its edges. You slowly turned your head toward the source of the noise.
Then immediately sat bolt upright. "...WHAT THE—"
Pain immediately shot through your ribs. "...Ow..."
Curled up beside you, occupying nearly half the enormous bed, was Shok.wav. The colossal biomechanical shark had somehow managed to wedge himself comfortably against the mattress, his massive cybernetic head resting beside your pillow.
Only then did you finally glance around the room. You were in Vox’s room, twice now. Your life choices were becoming increasingly questionable.
Shok.wav bumped his enormous head gently against your shoulder, drawing your attention back to him. The mechanical shark let out another surprisingly affectionate purr, his five eyes watching you expectantly.
"Oh, alright." Carefully ignoring the protests from your battered body, you lifted a hand and rested it atop his enormous cybernetic head.
The effect was immediate. The shark positively melted beneath your touch.
You couldn't help but chuckle, indulging him for another few moments before finally looking down at yourself. Your amusement faded.
Your torso was wrapped almost completely in clean white bandages, layered tightly around your ribs and abdomen. Fresh dressings covered your arms, shoulder, and thigh, while smaller strips crossed countless cuts that had already begun healing. Even your hands had been carefully wrapped where the skin had split during the fight.
The bedroom doors slid open with a quiet hiss.
You instinctively looked up.
Vox stepped inside, impeccably dressed as always. His bowtie sat perfectly straight, his screen displaying its usual composed expression. Following closely behind him was one of VoxTek's service robots, its mechanical arms balancing a silver tray laden with food, water, and several bottles of medicine.
Without a word, the robot rolled to your bedside, carefully placed the tray on the table beside you, then turned and quietly left the room. The doors sealed shut behind it, leaving the two of you alone.
Your voice came out colder than you intended. "Why? What do you want?"
For the first time since entering the room, genuine confusion flickered across his features. "...What do I want?" He repeated the question almost absently, as though he hadn't considered it himself.
Ignoring the sharp protest from your healing ribs, you pushed yourself upright against the headboard. The movement sent pain lancing through your side, but you refused to show it.
"Yes," you replied. "People don't throw themselves into someone else's fight for nothing. You saved me." Your eyes searched his face, looking for the catch. "So tell me. What do you want from me?"
Vox didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he studied you in silence. His gaze lingered on the bandages wrapped carefully around your torso before drifting back to your face. After what felt like an eternity, he simply shrugged.
"I was annoyed and pissed that day." His tone remained infuriatingly matter-of-fact, as though this were the most obvious explanation in the world. "The idiots attacking your district didn't exactly improve my mood." He slipped his hands into his pockets. "So, I eradicated the insects."
For several long seconds, you simply looked at him. "...That's it? That's your explanation?" Your eyebrows shot upward. "You were pissed?"
You slowly looked up toward the ceiling, your eyes lingering there for a long, silent moment as though hoping some higher power would descend and explain the man standing in front of you. Letting out a long sigh, you dropped your gaze back to Vox. "And... why am I here?" you asked, gesturing vaguely around the lavish bedroom. "You could've just... dropped me off at my place."
Vox's expression remained unreadable. He leaned casually against the wall, though there was an odd stiffness to his posture now. "You were bleeding heavily," he replied after a brief pause. "I wasn't exactly thinking straight."
Whatever was going on inside Vox's head, he clearly wasn't willing—or perhaps wasn't able—to explain it.
"Fine," you muttered, reaching for your coat where it had been neatly folded nearby. "I'll leave now."
You had barely managed to stand before Vox let out an amused snort. "Sure." His arms folded across his chest. "If you want to get yourself killed. The Extermination is about to begin."
ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: (MDNI) reader is in 2nd trimester. i promised a sneak peak so here u go this is unedited btw.
꧁⎝ 𓆩༺✧༻𓆪 ⎠꧂
"How about these?" you point your phone to a package of generic diapers on the shelf of a store, hoping this choice would satiate the finicky demon you had on facetime.
"No, opt for the pricier ones," Vox says.
"More expensive doesn't always mean better.".
"Sure it does, sweetheart."
You sigh, "Vox, I really think the cheaper ones would be better. They have some "anti-leakage" guarantee thing that will be—"
"Now now," he begins in a condecsending tone, "who's card is it on?".
"Don't go there," you say through gritted teeth.
His smirk widens, "You didn't answer me, princess.".
You take a deep breath, attempting to hold your tongue against the cruel insults that conjured in your mind, "Yours. It's on your card.".
"Exactly!" he beams, feigning pride, "such a smart girl.".
"Don't be condescending! Jesus, why can't you just come and shop for this stuff yourself?"
Vox scoffs and rolls his eyes, "Because, if someone sees me hanging out with some pregnant chick then the whole plan is ruined. And if that happens, I'd be out of a kid, and you'd be an unemployed single mother.".
You lazily push the shopping cart in the deserted aisles, "I'm the only one in here, Vox. Believe it or not, not many people are looking to raise a kid in hell. I had to drive halfway across pride to even find a baby store.".
Vox sighs, a long dramatic sound that was becoming unfortunately familiar to you, "Fine. I guess I can make an appearance.".
"Okay, I'll send over the- OW!" your phone clatters to the floor as a sharp shock delivers into your hand. A blue bolt flashes out from your phone and materializes into Vox's form. "Vox," you say, clutching your hand, "what the hell?!"
"Relax, it'll fade," he says casually while straightening out his lapels.
"It's not gonna just," your voice trails off, watching the red mark and pain slowly disappear from your burned appendage, "...fade?". You sigh, allowing your body to relax after a brief moment of panic, "Don't do that again.".
Vox stares at you, not quite paying attention to your words, but instead is distracted by the way your free hand rests on the gentle bump of your stomach that had so quickly grown the past few months. He hums to himself, a smile slowly curving the corners of his lips.
"Vox?" you call out, "hello? Earth to Vox?"
"Hm?" his eyes shoot open, "Oh!". He clears his throat, a light blue blush brightening in the middle of his screen, "What, uh, what were you saying?".
