Harry:
Harry rolls his eyes as he slides your coat on for you.
He mutters at the paparazzi. You were just about to leave the hotel and make your way to the airport to go back home, when commotion started to stir outside, a bunch of paparazzi figuring out where you and Harry were.
"Relax baby," you rub his arm, "We just have to get to the car. We'll be okay after that." Harry nods at you, though he doesn't seem to be paying much attention, rather he keeps glaring outside and he's clenching his jaw in frustration.
You ask, grabbing his hand and he nods with dark eyess known to be a protective boyfriend. As soon as you feel the cool air hit you, Harry pulls you as close to him as possible. One hand is on your waist while he uses the other to push his way through to his car.
"Y/N! Y/N! Is it true Harry's cheating on you with Taylor Swift?" Someone yells beside you, and both you and Harry roll your eyes.
"Y/N! How do you feel about Harry going on tour? You worried he's gonna hook up with other girls?" You feel Harry's hand tighten around you at this, he always hated the rumour of him being a womanizer and how they always came back to him screwing you over, but you calm him down by rubbing his arm, stepping through the crowd. "Y/N! One quick question before you leave? Why have you gained so much weight? You're at least double the size since-" But the paparazzi doesn't get to finish his sentence because Harry has sent him flying backwards with a punch to his jaw.
"Why don't you keep your mouth shut, yeah? Leave my girl alone. Keep your rumours and bullshit comments to yourself. All of you. Now move, let us through before I punch the rest of you as well," Harry yells, and they all quieten down, scared of Harry's sudden outburst. Eventually you get to Harry's car and pull out onto the road, Harry's chest rising up and down harshly.
"You okay?" You whisper.
"Yeah... yeah, I'm okay," he keeps his eyes on the road.
"Don't listen to them, alright? They all talk shit, like they know you, like they know us. They're a bunch of idiots with no lives. And you're beautiful," his voice softens as his hand rests on your thigh, "you're perfect and they're jealous of what we have. They just like drama," he ends, and you lean over to rest your head on his shoulder, thankful you knew you could count on him.
Niall:
"Well aren't you a pretty little thing," you feel someone's warm breath on the back of your neck, and you turn around slowly to look at who the voice belongs to. It's a stranger, some man with dark hair who looks well into his thirties and you nearly gag at the thought of him coming any closer.
"Um, thanks," you mutter, eyes on the search for Niall in the busy club who had left to go to the bathroom.
"You look thirsty, let's get you a drink," he says, nudging his head to the busy bar tender, but you shake your head.
"No thank you," you say politely, trying to leave, but he presses you up against the bar instead.
"What are you doing? I have a boyfriend, let me go," you push against him.
"Aw, so what? I have a girlfriend," he shrugs, and you cringe at his attitude.
"She's so lucky," you say sarcastically, and he laughs at this, his lips moving closer to your neck.
"Back the hell up," you try to move away, but he's got muscles and is keeping you in place.
"Come on, baby," he whispers, and you turn your head away, hands punching at this chest when you feel a loud yell from behind you that makes the two of you stop.
