He Comes Home From Tour to Find You Crying Over Hate

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Harry: The tears just kept pouring from your eyes as you read tweet after tweet from Harry's "fans". Don't cry. Don't give them the satisfaction of letting their words get to you. You kept thinking to yourself, but the tears just wouldn't stop. It was exhausting to hear how fat, ugly, and undeserving you are... as if you didn't already think of yourself as those things before. Next thing you know your bedroom door opens and Harry's head peaks through. You had been so wrapped up in your Twitter feed, you forgot that Harry was coming home from tour within the hour. After getting up and hugging him tightly, you tried to hide the tears but it obviously didn't work. "What happened, Darling?" He asked wiping the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. "Just got sucked into the black hole of Twitter hate..." You explain. He shook his head and wrapped you tightly into his arms, "I'm so sorry... If I could, I'd make it all disappear."

Louis: He knew what he was coming home to, for some odd reason there had been a swarm of hate coming for you over the last few days. How did he know that? The hashtag trended worldwide. #GetAwayFromLouY/N. He was disgusted, to say the very least. When he walked into the door, the house was silent, until he heard you let out a sob. Immediately, he runs into the kitchen to find you sitting on the floor with your head in your hands. "Babe..." He sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug. "Why do they hate me? What did I do?" You sobbed onto his shoulder. He rubbed your back, "You didn't do anything Y/N, those are just nasty people. They're sad excuses for fans. If they can't see how wonderful you are and how happy you make me, well, they can just fuck off."

Niall: Right now, you needed him more than anything. Right now, shit was hitting the fan. Your phone was blowing up with constant hate tweets, they never seemed to stop. How the hell did they find your Twitter? It doesn't have your name or picture on it and you barely ever use it. Niall was right, his fans are better than the FBI. It was obvious that he had gotten your texts because your apartment door flew open within a half hour after he had landed. "I'm gonna fucking lose it!" Niall growled through his teeth, "How dare they?" You ran into his arms, "Niall, please don't make a big deal out of this." He kissed your head, "You bet your ass I'm going to make a big deal, no one touches my girl."

Liam: He was probably seeing all this just after getting off of his long flight home, could he ever cut a break? All hell was breaking loose on Twitter, the fans were relentlessly harassing you to the point where you couldn't even stand to leave your apartment. Your phone sounds with a notification from Twitter, Liam just tweeted. @Real_Liam_Payne: if you ever hurt y/n, don't even bother calling yourself a fan. You hurt her, you hurt me. After reading that you couldn't help but start to sob, this was all your fault. Before you could manage to let out another cry, Liam walked into your bedroom, threw your phone across the room, and just laid on your bed cuddling with you. No words, just cuddles.

Zayn: He was so mad at himself, he wished he had done more to protect you from this. He wished he could somehow save you from all of this hurt but he knew that he couldn't. Sniffles echo through your shared flat as he enters for the first time in months, with his suitcases in hand. "Zayn?" You weak voice called for him from the living room, where you sat on the couch with your laptop open to your Twitter feed. He shut your computer when he walked in and just said, "Fuck them." You looked up at him questioningly. "You heard me, Love. Fuck them. They're just a bunch of insecure trolls who have nothing better to do than sit behind their computer and hate on beautiful people like you." You cracked a smile and hugged him tightly, "Welcome home."

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