“Come on, lets just go home” You plead, tugging at Harris’s hand. He’d just been talking to fans for the last few minutes but you could tell that paparazzi weren’t far away. Which meant in about a minute there’d be rude, directed comments being shot at you and Harris from every direction. “Just a second, Ari, I promise” Harris kisses your temple reassuringly and squeezes your hand. The fans give a short ‘aww’ and continue with the pictures, the questions, all of that fangirl business. “HARRIS! HARRIS! HARRIS!” You hear people scream as they run down the sidewalk to where you were. Great. They’re here. You kept your head down as the flashes and crowds of people surrounded you and Harris. “Hows everything going?! Pregnant yet?!” Here come the questions. “Whats your day job, Ariana?!” “Where do you two live?!” “Why would Harris go out with a prostitute?!”. The questions weren’t original, or new, you hear them everywhere you go. You know it’s the pap’s job to stir you up by making those comments. You weren’t a prostitute, you were a barista at a local coffee shop, just about everyone knew that, but the lies can hurt too when they’re being shouted at you from all around. Imagine being in a bubble where all you can ever hear is rude comments, and your insecurities, and other people confirming them. Harris notices your dejected expression and says a quick goodbye to the girls. “Come on, let's go” He mumbles into your ear before leading you through the crowd. They followed where the two of you walked. You cursed yourself silently for parking the car what felt like a mile away. “ARIANA!” They kept shouting, provoking cameras into your view. “SLUT!”. Harris’s head whipped around to glare at the pap who said it. You had never really been called a slut face to face by the paparazzi, so this was new. Especially for Harris. “What was that?” He said, gritting his teeth and squinting at the rude commenter. “I called her a slut” The guy shrugged innocently, a camera still perched on his shoulder, capturing every move Harris or you made. “Harris, he’s filming, come on lets just go” You warn carefully, tugging at his hand to go once again. The two of you start walking again, flashes blinding you as you do so. You feel a rough shove into your shoulder, and fall forwards a bit. Harris, mercifully, catches you from around the waist and holds you back up. “He just pushed you” Harris said under his breath, glaring at the same guy who’d called you a slut previously. “Harris i’m fine just–” “Slut!” the guy called once again. “Arii, wait here” Harris shoved you gently to the side before bravely walking up to the camera man. From what you could see Harris was saying something in a low whisper, as the man watched on, as if he was bored. He made another rude comment from the looks that Harris shot him. Harris glances back at you before winding his hand up behind his back and bringing it forward, punching the man dead straight in his stomach. The man groans and clutches at his stomach, still bringing in enough power to swing his arm by Harris’s face, missing it by inches. Harris shoves the man’s shoulders back, causing him to fumble into a bunch of other paparazzi’s filming on. Harris quickly jogs over to you, grabs your hand, and starts to fast walk away from the scene. You both make it to the car before being hassled again, and before Harris drives off you stop him. “Thank you” You whisper, leaning over and placing your lips onto his. He smiles into the kiss and starts up at car. “You know i’d do anything for you, right? Even if that means I get a pretty bad reputation from now on…”

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AND THIS IS LAST REQUESTED IMAGINE SORRY

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