He Gets Protective

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(Y/T/N) - Your twitter name

Harry

You were out with Harry in your favorite little cafè, glancing nervously at the door. You'd been getting some threatening twitter messages for the past few days, and every little thing had you on edge, whether it was noises in you and Harry's apartment at night, or just the ding! of the cafè's door. It was slowly driving you insane. You couldn't get a decent nights rest, or even talk on the phone without the constant fear that you were being watched. Harry seemed to notice this after taking you out a few times, and you'd noticed he'd always tighten his grip. Feeling a presence behind you, you tensed up, terrified that it was a crazy fan- it was just your server, though.

"Alright," Harry sighed, finally speaking. "What's going on?"

"What're you talking about?" You forced a nervous laugh, but stopped upon seeing Harry's serious expression. You sighed, tracing the outlines of your fingers. You didn't wan to tell him and risk having him getting angry, or saying it was silly of you. You knew your fiancée wasn't like that, but you still had your doubts. You sighed again before replying.

"I've been getting some hate lately, and it's just kind of got me on edge.."

Immediately after the words had left your mouth, you felt his fingers slipping into yours and you looked up at him. His green eyes looked angry, though not at you.

"(Y/N), I wouldn't let anyone get close enough to touch you, none the less hurt you. You're safe with me, I promise."

Later on, he tweeted about it.

'Harry_Styles: Sending threats to my fiancee isn't a good way to get my attention.'

Liam

You were out shopping with Liam in the mall, and having no luck at all. You needed to find a dress to wear to your cousin's wedding by tomorrow, which was when the wedding was. You were known for being super last-minute, and of course, even with Liam as your boyfriend, this was no exception. Liam had already gotten his tux (he'd had one left from a red-carpet event), and every store you two had been in hadn't had anything good.

"One last try?" Liam squeezed your hand, nodding towards a vintage clothing store. It wasn't exactly what you had in mind, but it was your last hope. You nodded, leading him into the sepia-lighted store.

"This is actually kinda cool," you mumbled to him, scanning through the first rack of dresses you saw. You searched for a few more minutes before moving on to the next rack.

"You need any help?" a voice came from behind you, and you turned to see not Liam, but a guy about your age, maybe a bit older. His dark grey eyes locked on to you, though not necessarily your face.

"Er," you picked a dress quickly, holding it up, then grabbed a few more, wondering where Liam might be. "I'd like to try these on."

"I think you should try something smaller, maybe tighter. It's fit your body better." He suggested with a smirk.

"I think we'll head elsewhere, thanks," Liam materialized arm around your waist protectively. He put the dresses back, ushering you out of the dimly lit shop quickly. Later, he tweeted about it.

'The_Real_Liam_Payne: before u hit on my gf, make sure I'm not around.'

Louis

As Louis Tomlinson's girlfriend of three years, it was no secret to anyone that you loved anything to do with pounding music, dim lights, and hot, cramped spaces. There was just something about being jam packed like sardines in their aluminum tin, dancing with Louis quite, er, intimately. You were sitting on the tall bar stool next to your boyfriend, your short dress just barely hiding the meat of your thighs. Glancing over at him slyly, you made sure you had eye contact with his incredible blue-green eyes before lifting your drink to your lips, finishing it off, then licking your lips. His gulp, bobbing his adam's apple, was not missed. Rather, you smirked before sliding off the stool, and then leaned over and whispered in his ear, giving it a little tug with your teeth.

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