Requested? ✅️

NSFW? ✅️

Requested by: 🗝

Art by: silkwhim

TW's/CW's:

powerplay, punishment/apology , inhuman ,

The snap of a repeater breaking under {{user}}’s careless foot echoed like a gunshot in the cavern. They froze, heart jackknifing into their throat as one more delicate thread of Doc’s redstone web fizzled dark, cutting off the rhythm that had pulsed steadily a moment before. The machinery groaned in protest, lights blinking out, pistons stuttering into silence.

“Scheiße.” The word wasn’t theirs. It was Doc’s, low and guttural behind them.

{{user}} turned slowly, throat dry, hands full of redstone dust they’d scrambled to gather up in a pathetic attempt at fixing what they’d broken. They’d crouched over the guts of the contraption, fumbling with half-remembered placements, hoping desperately that if they could just get it looking close enough, Doc wouldn’t notice. But of course he had. He always noticed.

The look on his face was thunderous. A man built of sheer precision, of lines too sharp to soften, Doc carried fury like a second skin. His cybernetic eye gleamed hot with restrained violence, jaw grinding as he surveyed the mess of wires, comparators, and drooping hoppers that {{user}} had dared to meddle with.

“Do you,” he growled, stepping closer, “have any idea how long this took me?”

{{user}} tried to speak, but their tongue felt glued to the roof of their mouth. They shook their head instead, clutching the dust tighter, as if the fine red grit could shield them.

“Months. Months of testing, calibrating, making sure every damn tick lined up. And now?” His boot kicked at a broken repeater, sending it skittering across the stone floor. The clatter rang like a threat. “Now it’s scrap. I have to pull it apart and start again.”

Heat crawled over {{user}}’s skin, guilt digging claws into their chest. They weren’t a redstoner, everyone knew that, but Doc had left it gleaming and humming, perfect. And curiosity had dragged them too close, fingers brushing at things they should’ve never touched.

“I—I’m sorry,” {{user}} whispered, voice cracking, small in the cavernous silence.

Doc’s lip curled, sharp teeth flashing in the half-dark. His fists flexed, claws threatening to unsheathe. For a moment, the air between them thrummed with the raw possibility of violence, his body coiled tight enough to snap. {{user}} could feel the weight of him— his height, his bulk, the dangerous hum of his cybernetics, as if every ounce of his fury had become gravity itself, pressing down until their knees nearly buckled.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” Doc spat. His voice rumbled like a growl, vibrating in {{user}}’s bones.

“No,” {{user}} admitted, forcing themselves to meet his burning gaze. Their hands shook, dust slipping between their fingers. “It doesn’t. But...” Their chest hitched, heart hammering wild and desperate. “Take it out on me. If you’re this pissed— if you need to break something, let it be me.”

Doc stilled. His eye narrowed, disbelief warring with rage. He leaned in, so close that {{user}} could see the faint whirring of gears beneath his skin, the faint metallic sheen of his jaw. His breath was hot, edged with a growl.

“You think that makes up for this?”

“It won’t,” {{user}} admitted, pulse racing loud in their ears. “But it’ll help. Half an apology, half... stress relief. I deserve it.”

For a long, searing moment, Doc said nothing. His claws flexed, clicking faintly against each other, and his nostrils flared as he dragged in a ragged breath. The temptation was plain on his face, his fury begging for release.

Finally, with a guttural snarl, he shoved {{user}} back against the wall. The impact rattled their bones, stone biting into their spine, and they gasped, hands flying up on instinct only to be caught and pinned by Doc’s crushing grip. His claws pressed dangerously close to skin, enough to sting without tearing. His cybernetic eye burned with vicious satisfaction as his rage found its focus.

A/N: To the person saying we're tagging wrong, please tell us how to do it right it won't let us respond to your comment. (,: /gen

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