#also i head canon if their mate is chubby that paul loves pinching their cheeks

[chubbyreaderchan]

Fight | Poly!Lost boys x GN!reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence, reader gets touched by a rando, fighting, first time writing a fic for the Lost Boys.

Summary: An outsider thinks the reader is selling themselves to the Boys and thinks it’s okay to harass her, right in front of them!

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Music blared through the boardwalk; the boys surrounded you, their human mate enjoying the show. Paul was dancing and laughing with Mark, David was smoking leaning against a railing eyeing the crowd for their dinner, and you were leaning against the chest of Dwayne. His hands rested on your hips as you moved to the music.  

You couldn’t help but laugh watching your boys just be that your boys. Paul swaggered up to you, a big goofy grin on his face, and pressed a tongue and teeth-filled kiss against your lips. You laughed again as he pulled away mouthing the words to the song being sung before practically tackling Marko. The cute cherub was one wrong move from a fight constantly, and Paul almost got decked, almost. Only stopped because Marko realized who it was. You couldn’t help but shake your head at the antics of your boyfriends.

You pat at your jacket pockets and count to see how much cash you had before deciding to break off to get overly expensive concert water.

“I’m gonna be back,” you pulled slightly from Dwayne, who gently held your wrist as you pulled back.

“What’s up, sweetheart,” he asked.

“Just thirsty, I’ll be back,” You gave him a quick peck on his lips weaving a bit.

You gently lay a hand on David’s shoulder; his crystal blue eyes stare up at you his hand touching yours.

“Water,” you respond to his look. “I’ll be fine you keep thinking about dinner, okay?”

David didn’t say anything, just gave you a mildly annoyed look before scoping the crowd letting your hand slip through his.

It was a surprisingly short line, most likely due to the booth running out of alcohol and everyone moving on to a different one. Yet it seemed to take a lot longer for the attendant to get your water, you didn’t mind waiting. It was nice to step away from the crowd a bit, and take a breath of… not exactly fresh air but air not suffocating from the stench of body odor and general wet-butt-concert smell.  

It was a wonder your boys could stand the stench.

You leaned against the counter of the booth, back turned slightly from the crowd, tapping on the wood to the drum beat as best as you were able. Two cold and thin hands ran over your ass, a smile on your face assuming it was Paul or Marko only to turn and be shocked to see… some guy.

Great. “How much do they pay you,”

“What?”

“To have all of them all over you, they gotta pay good to gang bang you, eh?” He grabbed at your face, but you pushed him off.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” David’s voice was loud.

Relief of not needing to fight some asshole washed over you.

“C’mere kitten,” He called you, and you morphed into the group of biker punks.

Marko looked like a ticking time bomb about to explode on the guy. He thought he was being slick. Smooth. Trying to get on their mate.

That wouldn’t happen.

Ever.

“Oh, you who I talk to about how much a fuck with them is?” he said right to David’s face.

The platinum blonde sneered, tossing his cigarette to the ground. But Marko was quicker. His fists flew hard, potentially breaking the bone of the man.

They were crowding around ready to tear him apart, Dwayne the only one holding back to keep you from getting involved.

They only stopped when security arrived, throwing the whole fighting group out of the venue.

“You guys don’t have to do that,” you tell them, walking back to their bikes.

You mount Marko’s feeling like you need to hold onto him the most. He joins you on his bike, allowing you to wrap your arms around his middle.

“Doll, we won't let you be disrespected like that,” David said, lifting your chin with his gloved finger to face him.

His touch elicited a happier feeling than that of the groping bastard. A smile cracks on your lips, and David presses a quick kiss to them.

“At least we have dinner now,” Paul said, pinching your cheek playfully before mounting his bike.

You lean against Marko, cheek against his patterned jacket. “Thanks for defending my honor, Marko,”

“Of course, dove. What kind of mate would I be if I let someone treat you like that,”

With that, they kicked off their bikes and recklessly took you back to the cave.