Requested? ✅️

NSFW? ❎️

Requested by: 💌

Art by: HermitZine(? help)

A/N: We took a nap, and then there was loads of requests, T^T

Doc sat hunched over the workbench, the dim glow of a dozen redstone lamps throwing jagged shadows across his face. The left side of him; metal, wires, strange humming plates— whined and clicked in an uneven rhythm. His mechanical eye sputtered, the lens flickering like a dying torch, and each time it glitched the side of his face twitched with a faint electrical snap. He muttered under his breath, big hands working with surprising precision as he twisted a screwdriver into the panel above his cheekbone.

{{user}} lingered just a few steps away, the faint tang of oil and scorched copper sharp in his nose. He wanted to help, but every time his fingers twitched toward the maze of redstone spread out across the table, Doc’s voice cut through the static:

“Don’t touch that. Seriously, {{user}}, don’t mess with any of it. One wrong connection and I’ll blow the whole damn room.”

{{user}} pulled his hands back, forcing a crooked smile. He wasn’t there to meddle, anyway— he was there because Doc had asked, in his own gruff, sideways way, for company. And it wasn’t the sort of thing you said no to.

The room was warm, buzzing, alive with little jolts of sound and light. {{user}} could hear the faint grind of gears deep in Doc’s chest as he leaned forward, adjusting another circuit. Every now and then Doc swore under his breath, a guttural growl that carried more frustration than pain. {{user}} stayed quiet, content just to watch, to exist in the space Doc allowed him into.

After a long silence, Doc tilted his head, the faulty eye catching the lamplight and throwing it back in uneven flashes. “You’re just gonna stand there the whole time?” His tone was teasing, but soft around the edges.

{{user}} shrugged, leaning back against the wall. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t fry yourself.”

That earned him a grunt that could’ve been annoyance, or gratitude. Hard to tell with Doc. The quiet settled again, though it wasn’t heavy, not anymore. {{user}} found comfort in the whir of machines and the occasional spark, and in the knowledge that Doc wasn’t sending him away.

Even with the warnings not to touch a thing, there was a warmth between them. A steady, wordless assurance that being here mattered, that company itself was as much a fix as any tool Doc held in his hands.

Doc Doccing out until my circuits explode

He's not being a , he's just.. idk man, degrading {{user}}, love language thats the word.