Punk One Direction One Shots

Harry for Molly Pt. 2

Molly’s hand was encased with my large one as we strolled down the snow covered side walk away from the ice rink. Giggles of delight left her lips breaking the still silence of the night. Her long waves of hair curled around her hip bones making her look like the perfect blend of sin and innocence. Her laugh continued to fill the night, glancing at me every few seconds to make sure I wasn’t going to snap at her, scream down her throat in a dick way to not make fun of me.

“Oh shut up.” I moaned embarrassed. “It wasn’t that funny.”

“Yeah it was.” She chuckled bumping against my hip. Her warm body added to my heat, creating a familiar glow between the two of us.

“Okay, maybe it was a little funny.” I caved adjusting my arm so I had completely swallowed her into my chest.

“Harry, you just fell flat on your arse in the skating rink in front of fifty other people and you looked like an oaf instead of the punk you try to be. That’s more than just a little funny.” Molly bantered leading the way back to our flat. Our flat that was my new favorite thing to say, well aside from “Hey guys meet my girlfriend.”

I let out a laugh, knowing it would make her happy. She needed reassurance, a lot of it, but that was the good thing in our relationship. We were friends. Continuing home we passed the wanna be hipster place that every teenage girl went just to feel like she was an internet queen. Molly kept pressing on towards home never really loving the coffee shop or the dark. We passed the streetlamp that lit the patio where the forty year olds without lives mixed with the dickish wanna be hipster twenty year olds.

Molly suddenly stopped. I could feel the fear radiating off her. Glancing her way, I saw him. Leaned back against a chair, cigarette dangling from his lips, smoke drifting out way, was him. “Hey baby.” He cat called, pushing himself up.

“Just keep walking baby.” I assured her in a whisper near her ear.

“Don’t you miss me?” he slurred staggering her way.

“No.” Molly choked out, pushing forward.

“You don’t mean that.” He chuckled daring a hand toward her hip. “You miss me touching you? You miss the feeling of me inside?”

I could feel myself shaking with anger, blind to everything but the sweet open spot for my fist to connect with his chin. Molly shook, cowering murmurs rising in her throat. Quickly, without thinking, I connected my knuckles to his jaw. The satisfying crack echoed in the night. Pounding further into him, I could feel him punching back, cracking my nose.

Whimpers pulled me away, tugging me home. Blood dripped from my nose while Molly led me to the bathroom. “Idiot.” She murmured pressing a rag to my nose.

“No, I’m not.” I defended.

“You didn’t have to do that.” She continued.

“Yes I did.” I murmured.  “I’m your boyfriend, I love you, that’s my job.” Flicking my hair back, she brushed her hands through my curls tugging at them.

“Do you enjoy your job?” she husked grazing my skin with her lips.

“Very much.”  I confirmed for her, pulling my lips to hers.