Subkit oneshots/reqs (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

˗ˏˋ ꒰I don't care about forever, I just need it 2night! ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ

fluff/lust!! 🫧

as requested, Subspace gets hurt and Medkit tends to him :3

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

CONTENT WARNING. MAKING OUT.

CONTENT WARNING. MAKING OUT.

CONTENT WARNING. MAKING OUT.

i know it makes peopl;e uncofmrotable... it makes me a bit eugh too but i need to practice my writing skills on this type of stuff

જ⁀➴

Flashy lights poured in from all angles, thrumming colors casting their flashy beams along the patterned carpet, adorned with small squiggles and flamboyant dots. Microphones blared a gaudy symphony in the backgrounds, serving as a tune for the distant rumbling chatter of each team hyping eachother up.

Tix Blazters. What the Flipside would call the song.

What a stupid name.

Medkits one eye sifted through his boisterous team, a sour scowl present on his scrunched up face, as usual. His brows furrowed and knitted together, nose crumpled disdainfully, tongue snaking under his breath in dissatisfaction.

His gaze trailed the rugged movements of each teammate.

Banhammer. Great. One brash teammate to babysit and trail behind like a blind mouse.

Slingshot. Just perfect. A reckless, high-mobility pest to attempt to heal half-heartedly.

Boombox. Someone who immediately got their health blasted a mere second into battlefield in accord to their own incompetence, just the person I needed.

and.. Subspace.

His pliable lips formed into a tight line.

God. Where does he even begin? His overweening attitude. The tick of his head to the side as he boasted about an assist. The raspy voice he crooned out in a mocking response to Medkit's every grunt. The way he rested his arms akimbo in a conceited manner, the hiss lingering underneath their breath all the goddamn time. His sore-winner attitude. Their pathetic autistic boy-failure personality. Sfoth, he was intolerable. The immaculate cherry on top to this lump of a lamentable team selection. Just his luck, huh?

Medkits supple fingers curled in on the golden-brimmed handle to his briefcase, jaw clenching in frustration. What a perfect fight! His heavy-lidded eyes darkened, gloved fingers slipping off the hilt of the medkit, tossing it onto the floorboards with a thump carelessly. The doctor clenched his eyes shut in an exasperated manner, mouth twisted into a grimace of discomfort. His mittened hand pressed up against his pale forehead, head bobbing from side to side in drawn out bitterly.

Loud, rubmlingg chatter ensued from behind him. Boombox and Slingshot doing some.. 'handshake'. Their hands slithering into one another, fingers stretched out before clamping into bumping fists, digits intertwining with one another into a pathetic 'symbol of friendship'. Eachother chuckled heartily, Boombox's visor beeping a dazzling lime expression; ^_^

Banhammer held up his purple-dressed hammer pridefully, a haughty grin bared on his stubbled chin. The warden strummed its handle such as he would with a guitar, rough fingers bashing against the embedded amethyst of his weapon, lugging the sledgehammer over his armoured shoulder, steel against steel clanking overbearingly.