NIALL: You and Niall are out enjoying a nice dinner together at a sports bar and grill that you both love. While Niall pays the bill you excuse yourself to the restroom. On your way to the back of the restaurant where the restrooms are located, someone grabs you by the elbow and pulls you to a halting stop. “I see you’re with that blonde guy over there,” the man who had grabbed you observes. “Yeah,” you respond, jerking your arm free, “so?” “Come on, baby, what are you doing with that loser?” “I beg your pardon?” you ask, taken aback by the man’s boldness. “You can do so much better than him,” the man explains. “Oh, yeah, because you are clearly so much better, Scumbag. Now if you’ll please excuse me,” you spit out venomously before turning to make your way back towards the restrooms. Niall, noticing your confrontation with the guy, has approached you both and asks, “Is there some kind of problem here?” “No,” you quietly respond, just wanting to get as far away from the situation as possible. “Nothing wrong here, except that your girl here is a little rude,” the guy explains with a cocky laugh. “Something tells me it’s only because you were being rude to her first. Come on, [Y/N], let’s go home,” he says, placing a gentle hand to the small of your back and guiding you out. “Hey! I’m not done with you yet!” the guy yells from behind you, grabbing Niall by the shoulder, whipping him around and giving him a swift punch to the mouth all in one fell-swoop. “Oh my God!” you shriek. Niall’s lip begins bleeding as you lead him out of the restaurant and take him back home. As you nurse his wound with a warm cloth, Niall keeps apologizing for ruining the evening. “It’s not your fault he thought he was some macho guy who could do whatever he wanted,” you say with a soft smile, brushing your hand lightly across Niall’s cheek.
ZAYN: ”Hey, here comes the wanna-be pop star now!” You and Zayn hear a guy yell from a crowd nearby. You both try to just ignore the comment and keep walking, but the man is quickly following you, taunting you with every step. Finally, enough is enough and you turn around to face the guy. “Could you please just leave us alone? We haven’t done anything to you, and we’d really like to just go about our business peacefully,” you snap angrily, but the man doesn’t quit it. “I think you need to get your girlfriend under control,” the guy chortles. “Sir, please don’t speak about my girlfriend that way, just let us be on our way,” Zayn calmly asks, turning you back to face the direction you’d been headed in. The man makes a whipping sound, indicating that Zayn is whipped and you wear the pants in the relationship. That being the final straw, Zayn turns back towards the man. “Look,” he says sternly, “my girlfriend and I are just trying to enjoy our day, and we’d really appreciate it if you back off and let us be.” “Oh yeah?” the guy asks childishly, giving Zayn a light shove. Unable to resist, Zayn shoves him back. “Yeah,” he confirms. “Zayn, don’t start, let’s go,” you say, but your words are lost on him. After taking a moment to stare each other down, the guy takes the first swing. Partially in self-defense and partially because he just can’t help himself, Zayn retaliates. A few punches are thrown back and forth before the fight is broken up. Zayn remains virtually unscathed, save for a cut on his left cheek. “SSSSS!” Zayn hisses in as you press the medicine to his cut once you’re back home, and he feels the stinging sensation of the medicine. “Remember this next time you decide to get into a brawl.” “It was all in your honor, my dear,” he smirks at you cheekily and you respond by applying more pressure to his wound. “OW!” he cries out and you chuckle lovingly.
HARRY: ”What the hell happened?!” you gasp as Harry comes through the back door, entering the kitchen where you’re standing at the stove cooking dinner. His nose is dripping blood and his eye is beginning to bruise. “Nothing,” he states simply, making his way towards the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. You switch off the stove and follow him. “Where’s the ointment??” he asks, angrily shoving things from side to side. You slap his hand away from the shelves. “Go sit down; let me get it.” He obliges, heaving a frustrated sigh as he takes a seat on the lid of the toilet. You pluck a few tissues out of the box and hand them to him to stop his bleeding nose. After giving him a few seconds to calm down you ask, “Mind telling me what happened, now?” “It’s not even worth getting into. It was dumb.” “Not gonna argue with you there,” you mutter placing a bandaid laced with the ointment to the cut on his nose. “Ouch,” he winces at the pressure against his tender nose. “You’re a mess,” you observe. “Tell me about it,” he says sarcastically. You run a cloth under warm water for a minute before placing it to his darkening eye. “Come on, let’s go lay down for a little while,” you suggest and Harry follows you into the bedroom where you two cuddle up on the bed to give him some time to recuperate after whatever it was he had just gotten himself into.
LOUIS: You and Louis are sitting at home watching a movie on a Friday night when you can hear someone sneaking around the outskirts of your home. After checking out the window, Louis confirms that it’s a paparazzi. “This is so ridiculous. Taking pictures of us out and about is one thing, but when we are sitting in our own home, it’s a bit over the top,” Louis seethes, folding his arms tightly over his chest. “Just come back over here and sit down. They’ll go away eventually,” you try to persuade. “No, they won’t! They’ll camp out there for days if they have to. They are wankers like that.” “Can’t we just deal with this later?” you ask, not in the mood to put up with all this drama. “No, I’m gonna deal with this right now,” Louis says as he swings the front door open. Not wanting to get involved, you stay put on the couch. You hear a little bit of arguing that soon escalates to more threatening tones. You can’t quite make out what’s being said. Curious, you get up to find out what’s going on and you catch the sight of Louis stumbling back a couple of steps, as a result of being hit, when you reach the doorway. You run over to him, as the sleazy paparazzi runs away. “You are such an idiot. I told you to just let it go,” you reprimand him as you get him back into the house. “Argg,” he grumbles, holding his jaw in one hand. You sigh, “Come on, let’s get you an ice pack.” “I love you,” he says despite his pain, trying to get back in your good graces. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too, ya moron,” you say and flash him a quick smile.
LIAM: “Don’t talk about my girlfriend that way!” Liam is yelling at the man who had just insulted you repeatedly. You’ve never seen him so heated up like this. The guy is not letting up, despite Liam’s anger, and before you know it, fists are flying. You can’t help but notice Liam never throws a single punch. He manages to secure the guy’s arms and stop him from taking any more swings. “I’m not kidding. Leave her alone. Be a man and treat her like the lady that she is,” he says in the most menacing tone you’ve ever heard him use. He gives the man a little shove to emphasize that he isn’t afraid of this stranger. The man skulks off, shooting more insults over his shoulder as he goes. “Liam?” you ask, a bit tentative. He turns around to face you, smiling as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occured. “Oh, Liam, your face is bruised.” He shrugs it off. “All in a day’s work to protect my beautiful girl.” You smile at his statement. “I appreciate it, but let’s agree to not let this happen again, shall we?” He chuckles. “Works for me,” he agrees. “Good.” You stand on the tips of your toes to reach up and give him a gentle kiss to his bruised face. “Now let’s get you home and get some ice on that bruise before it gets any worse.”
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One Direction preferenceFanfiction
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