Party Poison didn't know how much his life would change after the Fabulous Four found an injured guy in the middle of the desert and decided to take care of him.
Party Poison x Reader [male]
I can still remember clearly one of the times we were exploring the Zones, mostly wanting to get to know the area better while making another map of it to trace new routes just in case. We found a tall dune of sand and War had stepped forward first to stand over it, commenting something among the lines of being the king of the desert. It didn't take long until Sour and I were trying to 'dethrone' him, what consisted of trying to push each other off the place until only one of us stood there. Sour won.
The memory makes me feel sad again as there's this sudden want to live these again or even introduce them to the Fabulous Four, maybe in an attempt of proving myself, that I have my own group, my own life, but it all sounds like a distant reality.
"(K/n)!" My name being called brings me back to reality and I turn to see a frustrated Poison cornered by Jet and Kobra – the latter pointing a brush with fresh paint at him. "Save me! Tell them to fuck off!" He cries dramatically, leaning back against the car doors like if someone had just shot him or something.
I roll my eyes. "Die like a decent human, at least fight!"
"No, that's fine," Kobra smirks as stepping back along with Jet – it's the first time I hear Jet laughing. "He doesn't know he just ruined his jeans."
"What?" Party practically screams and jumps forward to look at the back of his jeans and lets out a genuine cry this time. "Oh my fucking Destroya, Kobra! These are my only good jeans to stay home! Fuck you!" He pouts and glares at Kobra with a death glare.
"Aw, c'mon," Kobra rolls his eyes as he goes back to painting, fixing what Party ruined with his ass – and I'm lowkey wishing I was referring to something else with this. "Get creative with it! Paint something!"
"I don't know if you are aware of it, Kobra," Party says extremely bitter, "but, unfortunately, the Witch has not blessed me with artistic talents like she did to you!" He scowls cutely, what makes me chuckle. Once Party turns around to go back to help Jet with the car, I get a look of his ass and it's covered in the red paint Kobra was using to restore the painting of the US flag.
"Why did no one tell me Party is reaching puberty?" Ghoul suddenly speaks up, some seconds after everyone fell silent. "Do I need to keep finding out things by looking at his ass?"
Party lets out another dramatic cry over everyone's laughter, burying his face in his hands for a moment. He points at Kobra. "Thanks for ruining my life. And you." He points at Ghoul. "Fuck off. I have never even seen you needing to shave."
"Thank Destroya I don't need to." Ghoul doesn't even care about it all, much to Party's frustration, what gets us laughing again.
"At least it is matching," I tease, leaning back against the wall.
"Only you can use that as an excuse to stare at my wonderful ass, okay?" Party puts on a stupid face and looks back at me, bottom lip between his teeth as he playfully places his hands on the car and throws his hips back.
"I don't need excuses, sorry." Shrugging, I find amusement in how he doesn't know how to react properly and blushes, narrowing his eyes at me, before he goes back to working normally. The reaction – or lack of – even earns him a few weirded out looks from the other guys, who were probably expecting something more coming from him, knowing how he is.
Hours pass by, but it feels like it was only two of them at the most and the sadness also grew in my chest at the same proportion the happiness did.
Poison seems to notice that when we're heading back inside by the end of the day. He continues looking at me with concern even after I try to reassure him everything is okay and insists on helping me with eating today again – he presses a kiss to my cheek at some point, pleased with it.
Nothing exactly helps my mood because, right now, I've got this immense want to hug my friends, to know they're okay and let them know I'm alive, and just get rid of this pain at once so the three of us can be ourselves again. It is annoying, it is hard and sometimes I wish I wasn't even born in this goddamn desert because great part of what happens here is limited due to the bad conditions, not mattering how we try to have fun in our very own ways. The more I think, the heavier my heart feels and more tears fill my eyes, a lump taking place in my throat.
"Hey, I... (K/n)?" Party calls, probably finally noticing my miserable state once he turns around after closing his room's door behind us. "What's wrong?" He asked softly with a sigh and pulls me to a hug, both of us sitting on his bed.
"I... Nothing." I shake my head, hating to have him to treat me like this, like if I was so... vulnerable.
Party's eyebrows furrow as he observes me, but he does let go. "Well..." He scratches the back of his head as looking around. "Why don't we listen so some music? It might help," he mutters and moves to get a record player on top of the desk in the room and, after a few moments, he is able to put one of his discs to play. Soon, music starts filling the room and it sounds like the music that plays in Dr. D's radio often, some kind of agitated old rock.
Some minutes into the song, I look at Party to tell him something, only to interrupt myself once seeing the idiot dancing, covered with a blanket – it makes me snort loudly, snatching giggles from him.
"You're so stupid," I tell him with a chuckle.
"Still the owner of the lips you kiss, lover boy," he says as continuing to dance stupidly. Sweet.
"Well, watch me throw a pillow on you now, honey," I joke, about to grab a pillow when Poison squeals and starts running, soon coming to a stop because the dumbass runs straight into a wall and falls back on his ass. "Oh my Destroya," I say through a loud chuckle. "Are you fine?" I lean closer to pull the blanket off him and he is just looking at the nothing like if still processing what just happened.
"Aw, poor baby! Let me take care of you, come here!" I motion for Party to join me in the bed and he does so with a sulky face like a little kid, gluing to my side, so I press a kiss to the red spot on his forehead.
Party groans softly, mostly for drama, and starts squirming around; I just understand he's getting rid of his jeans, the stained red ones, when they're thrown to the ground. He clings to me with a groan, wrapping his bare legs around mine. I roll my eyes, struggling a bit to throw the blanket over us and I can't help but to smile a bit once seeing his hot pink underwear.
"Holy Witch, (k/n)," Party whines, shifting around to hold me tighter, still careful with my injured arm. "Forget about the blanket, give me love!"
A chuckle escapes my lips at how he makes the whole situation sound like a death or life one, but I can't help but to smile and give him what he's been wanting so much, pressing a kiss to his pout. He hums in appreciation to it and kisses back, deepening the kiss; he brings himself up lightly, hand on my chest, and soon pulls away, smiling lazily as cuddling up to my side, head on the shoulder of my good arm. I roll my eyes a bit and hug him nonetheless, sighing as feeling the tiredness starting to hit me, too.
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