marie-in-the-hallway - Tumblr blog

marie-in-the-hallway · 3 years

Text

Watermelon Sugar pt2

Part One: https://marie-in-the-hallway.tumblr.com/post/653978559241682944/watermelon-sugar-pt-1

warnings: minor sexual content, swearing, alcohol

wc: 2.9k

...

They don't get suspended, thank God, but Jenna and Nick still receive an earful from their producer, Fiona. Nick just laughs through it all, while Jenna maintains that it wasn't her fault. She did her part. How was she supposed to know that Harry Styles was going to go rogue, forget his media training, and talk about bums, of all things?

The answer: she wasn't. So Jenna just goes home, snakes her hand down her pants and gets off to the vision of Harry on top of her, before trying to forget it ever happened. It doesn't really work, because her best friends Miley and Cody call her up dying from laughter, the video of the interview is immediately Radio 1's most popular video, 'Harry and Jenna is, apparently, trending on twitter, his follower count seems to be increasing by the hundreds, and her mentions are blowing up because, apparently, Harry Styles tweeted her.

Harry Styles. (@Harry_Styles)

@Jenna_Taylor thanks for the bum-tastic interview!!

Harry is not funny. He really isn't.

"Is it sad that I kind of miss 'Taylorshaw'?" Jenna asks Nick as they leave Radio 1 together the next day, scrolling through her twitter mentions. Everybody seems to be replying to the tweet with some type of variation of a jumble of capital letters, and Jenna doesn't know what to make of it. "I mean, this is insane, Harry and I have got, like, sixty fanfictions of us already."

Nick just snorts beside him, leaning over to peek at Jenna’s phone. "You do not miss 'Taylorshaw'. You ranted about how disgusting it was to the producers when it started and asked them if you could be teamed up with Greg James instead."

That's an overreaction.

"That's an overreaction," Jenna tells him primly, eyes still glued on her phone before her. She wonders if there are actually words in these. Some of Harry's fans seem to be having a conversation in jumbled, capital letters. "Besides, you asked to be transferred to Scott Mills as well, if I recall correctly."

"Because Scott is nice," Nick says, running a hand through his quiff. "You brought a water gun to work every single day and sprayed me with it at the most random times. Sometimes you filled it with coffee instead of water."

"You must never let your guard down, Nicholas," Jenna says ominously. "In war, you get shot when you least expect it." She locks her phone and pockets it, before turning to Nick with a quirked eyebrow. "And anyway, don't lie, you yourself enjoyed 'Taylorshaw'."

Nick groans, laughing. "Like I've said a million times, I was drunk and sad. Besides, you kissed me back."

"And what a mistake that was," Jenna sighs, covering her face with hheris hands and pretending to cry. "I didn't know what I was thinking, almost getting myself suffocated by your highly flammable hair fumes."

Nick shoves her on the shoulder, laughing good-naturedly. " Just answer the tweet, mate," he says as he turns around and dramatically walks away from Jenna.

She looks like an idiot. Jenna makes a mental note to bring her water gun tomorrow. She also makes a mental note to fill a cup of ice water and dump it on Nick's head.

But first things' first.

She quickly types out her tweet, reading and re-reading it, before quickly pocketing her phone and walking to her car. She ignores the way her phone burns in her pocket on the drive home, and tries not to think of her mentions and her follower count again.

Jenna Taylor (@Jenna_Taylor)

@Harry_Styles no problem pal!! didn't expect you to be quite so cheeky ha!!

. . .

Nick takes to mentioning the interview anytime he can in the next week, laughing and teasing Jenna about it, so he obviously deserves it when Jenna 'accidentally' drops honey into his quiff. Miley and Cody also take to teasing her about it, which, Jenna doesn't understand how they even have the time to do so, seeing as Miley is off on her latest tour, being a pop star and all that, and Cody is probably with her, 'coincidentally' being a model in the same cities Miley is in. Jenna knows more is going on but figures they’ll tell her in due time.

The views of the interview increase, and her mentions are now full of people asking him if she thinks Harry Styles is fit. Which she does, but she doesn't need to let the thirteen-year-old girls know that. They also ask her if she and Harry are going to date in the near future. Which makes her pause, because, last she checked, Harry has a girlfriend. A hot, model, french, perfect girlfriend.

Eventually, it does trickle down, the ship ‘Jenrry’ losing momentum after a few weeks. Her mentions stop blowing up with questions about Harry Styles, Nick stops mentioning the interview, and life pretty much goes on as it did before. At least for a while.

She doesn't encounter Harry again until two months later, while Jenna is storming the backstage of BBC Radio 1's Big Weekend looking for Nick. They're hosting it, because the producers clearly want Jenna to die a premature death, and Nick had grabbed Jenna’s hair spray and fucked off to do something with it. Probably style his hair some more. Whatever. In any case, Jenna needs it back right now.

She’s just in the middle of composing a very angrily-worded text to Nick when she bumps into someone's really firm body. It sends her phone clattering to the floor, and she winces at its impact.

"Fuck," she sighs, crouching down to retrieve her phone. "Sorry, mate."

She’s just finished picking her phone up when she realizes that the body hasn't moved from its position in front of her. She looks up curiously, and is met by familiar green eyes and dimples.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Harry Styles says, his voice low, lower than Jenna remembers. His lips are curved in a smirk, and his eyes are shining bright. His curls are full and bouncy and frames the shape of his face and there is a hat perched on his head and he looks good, looks better than Jenna has ever seen him, even under the harsh fluorescent lights back stage. "It's the second time I've met you and the second time I've heard you swear."

Jenna swallows, because Harry is standing in front of her, looking for all intents and purposes, like some sort of God, and Jenna is so painfully attracted to him.

It just so happens that Harry is so painfully not single.

"It's a free country, mate," Jenna says breezily, her inner turmoil thankfully not inflecting itself in her speech. "I can say what I want."

Harry sighs dramatically, the corners of his lips curved up. "Maybe, but it's sad that such words come from your mouth." Jenna is certain she imagines the way Harry's eyes dart down to his lips, before finding its way to her eyes again. Harry raises a hand and takes his hat off his head and holds it out to Jenna, bottom-side up. "Put a pound in the swear jar."

Jenna laughs. "A swear jar? What the hell are we, ten?"

Harry pouts at him. "Heyyy," he says, as if insulted, but his eyes are still shining with barely-concealed humour. "That's two pounds now."

"Expensive swear jar, that," Jenna mutters, lips twitching as he makes a show of patting her pockets. "Back at my mum's we only put ten pence in."

Harry shrugs. "It's a special swear jar," he says, putting his hat back on. It's a little lopsided, but Jenna doesn't tell him. He looks cute either way. "We can use it, the money, to like, do good things."

"Do good things?" Jenna asks, incredulous. "That's incredibly vague. I'm pretty sure that's how people get scammed out of their money."

"Oh, come on," Harry says, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. "Do I look like someone who would steal your money and run?"

"Well, you said that you would 'Steal My Girl'," Jenna jokes, albeit lamely. Sometimes, she honestly doesn't know why she's allowed to speak to the greater population of the United Kingdom.

Harry still throws his head back and laughs, though, so Jenna’s counting at as a point in her favour. Harry finds her funny, so the United Kingdom must find her funny too. But then again Harry's a pretty bad basis; his humour is made up of horrible puns, really bad knock-knock jokes, and penis jokes.

Oh, and bums.

"Jenna Taylor, everyone knows that you don't have a girl or guy to steal," Harry says, grinning widely.

Jenna gasps, mock-offended. "Are you saying that nobody wants to date me? Are you calling me ugly?"

"No," Harry answers, rolling his eyes. "I'm saying that you're bi. Because you came out as bi, didn't you?"

And, well, yes. She did. But she didn't really come out as bi, more like she was outed, but, whatever. She doesn't want to think of it that way.

"I did," Jenna says slowly, "but that doesn't mean I don't have a girl you can't steal. Like, my sister's my girl. What if you stole my sister from me? Or like, my mum. Do not steal my mum." She points a finger at Harry, so she looks very threatening. "Or date my mum, for that matter."

"Wasn't planning on it," Harry says, shrugging. "She's not really my type."

"What is your type, then?" Jenna can't help but ask.

Harry smirks. "Someone with a nice bum."

And, Jenna has to admit, that was her fault. She walked right into that.

But at least they're not on air anymore, so Jenna can answer back. Hopefully she can get Harry flustered. It'd be fun, he'd look really cute.

"I don't know," Jenna says, thinking. "I think bums are overrated. I prefer a nice, large cock. Or nice tits."

Harry doesn't really get flustered, much to Jenna’s disappointment. Instead he barks out a large laugh, before slapping a hand over his mouth. There's a slight flush on his cheeks, though, so Jenna counts that as a win.

"Nice to know," he says, still grinning, when he puts his hands down from his mouth. "I'll keep that in mind, for...whenever I need that information."

"Maybe you could find me someone with that criteria," Jenna jokes.

"Yeah," Harry says mischievously. "I mean, Nick."

Ew. Harry is disgusting. Jenna can't help but wrinkle her nose, shuddering at the disgusting thought of actually sleeping with Nick. Drunken make-outs are one thing, but sleeping together? No, thank you. Jenna would choke over Nick's hair fumes and her own vomit.

"Yeah, thanks for that Harold," she says. "Now I have to bleach my brain of the mental image. Eurgh."

"No problem," Harry says cheerfully, and God, what is wrong with him?

"Hey, speaking of," Jenna says, suddenly remembering why she's been going through the backstage. "You haven't, by any chance, seen him, have you? He stole my hair spray and fucked off somewhere."

"Three pounds in the swear jar," Harry says, grinning, but he schools his expression to something less happy."Um, I saw him in the loo a few minutes ago. He was, yeah, he was in the loo."

"Oh, thanks," Louis says, turning away from Harry to go to the loo. He's taken a few steps away when Harry grabs him by the elbow.

"Just so you know," Harry says casually, pulling Jenna closer. He's so close to Jenna, his breath ghosting against the shell of her ear. "I think your hair looks better down than it does up." And then he's letting go of Jenna’s arm, walking away towards where his dressing room probably is. Jenna can do nothing but stare.

It's just friendly advice, isn't it? Mates tell each other what makes them look good all the time, don't they? And she and Harry are obviously mates. They've had two conversations and a handful of shippers and Jenna is pretty sure that constitutes friendship. Or at least mate-ship.

She ignores the sudden pounding of her heart and slams into the bathroom, where Nick is, as she predicted, styling his hair.

"I hate you," Jenna says, deadpan. "Use your own."

"I ran out," Nick explains, while spraying half the can.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't use it that liberally, then," Jenna says, reaching over to snatch her hair spray from Nick.

"Well, you don't need it," Nick snaps, but lets Jenna have it anyway. "Your hair looks better when it's down."

Jenna just ignores him and makes her way to her dressing room, where she proceeds to leave her hair down. For aesthetic purposes. Cause if two people said she looked nice with her hair down, then who is she to argue?

. . .

Harry finds her again a few hours into the after-party, sidling up next to hiherm at the bar. His curls are a bit sweaty now, and he seems to have lost his hat, but his eyes are still bright, his face is flushed, and his voice still sends shivers down Jenna’s spine.

"Hello again, Jenna Taylor," he says, voice still deep and smooth like honey, "I believe you owe me money."

Jenna quirks an eyebrow at him. "And I told you, your swear jar is far too expensive for me to participate in," she says slowly, wrapping a hand around her third martini. "You can't even give me a decent enough reason to participate except for 'it's for a good cause'."

Harry simply dimples at her, looking radiant and beautiful and happy. He looks a bit tipsy, and Jenna feels a surge of want throughout his whole body. She lifts a hand a gulps down at least half of her drink, hoping that the alcohol will kick in much sooner than later. She doesn't feel drunk enough to handle a radiant, happy, beautiful Harry Styles yet.

"Why don't you trust me?" Harry asks, batting his eyelashes innocently. "Do I not look trustworthy enough?"

"I automatically don't trust people with curls, sorry," Jenna says, as she leans forward.

Harry purses his lips into a pout. "That's unfair," he accuses lightly. "You're insulting everyone with curls out there. See, this is why we need the money from the swear jar."

"You are so weird," Jenna says, shaking her head. "I never knew. If all your fans knew how weird you truly were, they'd drop you faster than a hot potato. It's tragic, truly."

"I think my fans like me for me," Harry argues.

"No, I'm pretty sure they see you as this cool rock star persona thing, like a Mick Jagger of their generation," Jenna says, squinting at him. "You do kinda look like Mick Jagger, to be honest. But whereas Mick Jagger is cool, you are 'tragically cool', meaning, you aren't. At all."

"I am cool," Harry argues. "You're still talking to me, aren't you?"

"I mean you're kinda cute, if that's what you were wondering," Jenna says, and then she's momentarily blinded by the reappearance of a dimple. It's really deep, his left dimple. Jenna wonders if anybody has tried to take a shot out of it.

"Has anybody ever tried to take a shot out of your left dimple?" Jenna asks, because she's drunk and he has no filter. "Is it deep enough to hold liquid?"

Harry blinks at her, confused. "Um, no," he says. "But you can try if you want?"

"I'll pass," Jenna says. She takes a sip from her martini. "Leave it to your girlfriend."

There's a brief moment when Jenna sees a flash of emotions go through Harry's face, before he's back to normal, dimpling really hard and leaning forward, closer to Jenna.

"I see you took my advice," Harry says, and Jenna has a brief moment of confusion before Harry is reaching out to card a hand through her hair. He's so close, close enough that Jenna can probably count his eyelashes, should she want to. His breath fans across Jenna’s face when he speaks. "You look much better with your soft hair down."

"Excuse me," LJennaouis says, looking down at the drink in her hand as Harry plays with the strands of her hair. Harry is probably drunker than Jenna thought. "I think I look good all the time."

"Well, that's true," Harry says, leaning back, and before Jenna can open her mouth to respond to that, Harry's pulling her hand. "Come dance with me!"

Harry leads them to a spot in the crowded dance floor, and moves closer to Jenna. Jenna has a brief moment of wondering how platonic this looks, before she shrugs, gulps down the rest of her drink, and places it on a nearby flat surface. It doesn't really matter at this point. If it looks compromising, she can always say that she was drunk. Drunk people become more touchy, don't they?

They dance for a bit, Harry moving like some sort of drunk giraffe, and Jenna laughing at him when one of his flailing arms hit other people. They don't really speak much, choosing instead to smile and twirl at each other when they deem it appropriate. Jenna tries to ignore the way Harry moves closer and closer to her, the long length of his body pressed to her own. She ignores the way she can smell Harry's cologne on his neck, something that smells rich and expensive, and instead focuses on bobbing to the music.

By the eighth time one of Harry's long arms knock into a person, Jenna pulls him to the bar where they proceed to do four shots in succession, before exiting the venue and walking to the nearest McDonald's. They order Happy Meals and trade toys and share stupid drunk stories and take stupid photos of each other and it's the most fun Jenna’s had in a long time.

#Harry Styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #watermelon sugar #fine line

17 notes · View notes

marie-in-the-hallway · 3 years

Text

Watermelon Sugar pt 1

wc: 2.3k

warnings: minor sexual content, swearing

...

Jenna doesn't know how her life came to be like this.

She was a good person; she had partied hard in uni, yes, but she studied hard enough to make up for it. She's nice enough to leave at least a twenty percent tip every time she gets the check, and certainly nice enough to drop coins in the tip jars of the baristas who make her coffee. She calls her mum a lot and she loves her sisters and she takes good care of her plant, a cactus she'd named Steve. She’s hilarious and witty, her friends love her, and she makes a decent enough living.

So it doesn't explain why she's lying on the floor, with Harry Styles, of all people, planking on top of her.

As in, seventeenth most influential person in London, pop-star-turned-rock-star Harry Styles. The same Harry Styles who has had countless model girlfriends, left, right and centre. One right now, in fact: Camille Rowe. Also the same Harry Styles who has been the subject of Jenna’s sex dreams since she was about eighteen.

(What can she say, she's consistent. The kid might change her look every few years but the libido wants what it wants. Or something.)

Anyway, the point is that, currently, Jenna is looking straight into Harry's gorgeous green eyes and she can feel the heat of Harry's body radiating onto hers. She can also feel one of Harry's soft curls brushing against her forehead, and she knows that if she looked down, she'd see Harry's pink lips, quirked amusedly, like Jenna is something of a particularly endearing animal.

In summary, Harry looks like something straight out of Jenna’s masterbating vault, and Jenna is especially thankful at this moment that she does not have a cock because it would be hard as a rod at this very moment.

"Do you, uh, work out a lot?" She blurts out, her mouth temporarily disconnecting from her brain, and she watches as Harry blinks, his long lashes brushing the tops of her cheekbones.

There's a pause, and then she hears a snort.

"Is this a dating show, mate?" Nick Grimshaw, the twat, says, half-laughing from his seat at the radio console. He raises his voice in a poor imitation of Jenna, stuttering out a ‘do you, uh, work out a lot’ in between his giggles.

Jenna turns her head to look at him and scowls. "Shut up," she says, trying to ignore the cute way Harry is giggling on top of her. It doesn't really work, but at least she tried.

Nick raises his hands defensively. "Hey, I'm bringing us back on track. You're supposed to be asking him questions about his new album, not asking him if he works out. You're tiring out the little pop star there."

"Nah," Jenna hears Harry's low voice drawl from above her, and she turns her attention back to the hot boy on top of him. "`m not tired yet. Besides, I'm kind of enjoying the view." He shoots Jenna a cheeky wink, and Jenna feels her face flush.

"Okay," she says loudly, mostly for the benefit of herself. She vaguely wonders how red she looks on camera, and whether or not she can get the ground to swallow her whole right about now. Maybe she should retire after this. Radio 1 would just have to look for another person who won't choke in the vicinity of Nick's hairspray fumes.

Every day at one to four pm, Nick and Jenna host "The Future is Now", a radio programme where they play music, talk about celebrity gossip and tease each other. It's supposedly nothing special, just two childhood friends making fun of each other and making fun of celebrities and their drama and occasionally talking about football, but apparently their banter has made it the most popular rated programme on BBC Radio 1. So popular that a few months ago, their producer sat them down and told them to "come up with more shenanigans", an order Jenna was happy to comply with. Her and Nick have then proceeded to do almost everything, from innuendo bingo with a twist to organizing a huge water fight in Radio 1.

Their latest shenanigan is interviewing their celebrity guests in the weirdest way they can, and last time Nick had interviewed Taylor Swift through trying to interpret her answers through drawing. It was massively funny, a huge failure, and also very exhausting, according to Nick, because who knew that Taylor was such a terrible artist?

Which is also why it's Jenna’s turn to do the interviewing this time.

However, she's ninety-nine point nine percent sure that Nick did this on purpose. Drunk Jenna might have let it slip a few weeks back that she has a not-so-small crush on a certain very famous Harry Styles, and Nick, because he was apparently close friends with Harry, invited him to plank over Jenna.

Jenna’s going to light a match near his hair and watch his twatty quiff burn down.

"Okay," Jenna says again, because no matter how much she wants to go back in time and ensure Nick was never born, Harry Styles with his hair and his dimples is still above her, smiling like it takes no effort to plank like this at all. He's the most attractive man Jenna has ever seen in her entire life. "We're going to have a quickie--" and she resolutely ignores Nick's sniggers from the console and the way his face heats up, "--which is like a lightning round of questions, until you feel you need to lower yourself down or until the timer runs out. Alright?"

Harry nods at her, grinning even wider, and Jenna decides to pin her focus on Harry's left dimple so as not to be distracted by the rest of his face.

"Nachos or Tacos?" She asks, starting the game immediately.

"Tacos."

"Red or Blue?"

"Blue."

"Favorite emoji to use in a text message?"

"The tongue and the peach." Jenna ignores the almost-obscene way Harry says it. She also ignores Nick's snorts from the table. She can do this. She just needs to ignore the way she’s wet from this small interaction and get this done like the professional she is, before she can go home and masterbate herself away to oblivion.

"Favorite song from your new album?"

"Um," Harry says, and Jenna feels his forearms shift from where it's beside her head. "Watermelon Sugar?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Jenna asks Harry's left dimple. See, she can be normal.

"Watermelon Sugar." Harry repeats, much firmer. "It's about oral sex."

Jenna’s eyes fly off Harry's left dimple and into his eyes. "I don't think you can say that on radio."

Harry just shrugs, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Sorry."

"Cheeky," Jenna mutters, before plunging on. "Most important feature of your ideal girlfriend?"

"I don't know if I can say it on radio," Harry shoots back almost immediately, his smile widening.

Somewhere from his place on the radio console, Nick cackles. Jenna hopes he chokes on his own saliva.

"Something radio friendly, then," Jenna answers, keeping her voice level.

"Well," Harry drawls out, seemingly lost in thought, "I'm much more of a bum kind of guy," and Nick's cackles get louder and louder. "I like a nice, firm, handful of bum. But if it has to be radio friendly, maybe the smile."

"I'm going to get suspended because of you," Jenna deadpans.

"`s the truth." Harry smiles innocently. He shifts on his forearms again, and his long curl brushes over Jenna’s eye. His cross necklace also falls out of his shirt, brushing against the hollow of Jenna’s throat. "Do you like bums, Jenna?"

"I like mums? I like my mum," Jenna says absently, half blinded by Harry's curl. She feels more than hears Harry laugh from above her, his abs quivering from above her body. Which, hey. Why is Harry laughing at her? She’s just trying to keep this show together, for the sake of her job and her listeners and because Nick is a useless idiot.

She clears her throat. "Ideal date?" She asks, blinking her eye against Harry's rogue curl. She focuses on it, tries to get it off her eye with just the power of her blinks and her eye lid muscles. It doesn't really work.

Harry wiggles his eyebrows above her, and Jenna feels a slight sense of dread settle against him.

"A walk on the beach, then a candlelit dinner, then back to my place--"

"Favorite hobby?" Jenna interrupts, because she cannot do this. She can't. She’s two innuendos away from being soaked through her pants, and she’s positive there will be a wet spot if Harry continues to imply vaguely sexual things.

"I like to bake," Harry answers easily, as if he wasn't on the verge of saying obscene things a few seconds before. Jenna hates him. Jenna also kind of wants to suck his dick.

"Last thing that made you cry?"

"Um," Harry furrows his brow and bites at his bottom lip. Jenna can't stop staring. "I...fell?"

"Fell where?" Jenna asks.

"I was getting out of the shower," Harry answers slowly, still seeming deep in thought. Jenna tries not to imagine a naked Harry, with little droplets sliding down his skin. She mostly fails. "Then I, like, slipped and fell. There were a few tears."

Jenna makes a noise of sympathy, her eyes glued to Harry's lips. "What did you hurt?"

"My bum."

That makes Jenna tear her eyes away from Harry's lips and into his green eyes, which are already shining with mirth. "What is it with you and bums?"

"I told you, I'm a bum man." Harry winks. He shifts on his forearms, and Jenna realizes that the planking must already be taking a toll on him. He doesn't seem close to giving up though, and Jenna admires his determination. Her sex drive admires the rippling of the muscles in Harry's forearms and the strength of his core.

"You seem to be a little bum crazy to me."

"Heyyy," Harry says, a cute little pout making its way onto his face. "Only for certain bums. The nice ones."

Jenna doesn't answer. "Favorite app on your phone?"

"Instagram."

"Last photo you took?"

"It was, like, a photo of my sister's dog in, um, space buns."

"Space bums, nice," Jenna says, because she can. She might get suspended from radio for a few days, but she's already aroused on camera and they've been talking bums since a while ago, so.

"Yep," Harry says, playing along. "They were out of this world."

Jenna opens her mouth to ask another question when her phone starts ringing, signalling the end of their quickie. Harry unceremoniously drops himself down, his entire body now in contact with Jenna’s own. Jenna can feel her skin heat up from where Harry's touching her, their entire lower half aligned. She shifts in surprise, discovering Harry’s (not so) little problem, so Jenna just. Speaks.

“Did you know the average whale penis is ten feet long?”

She wonders if she can probably retire gracefully and run away to Guam.

Nick is still cackling like a madman but ten times harder. Jenna doesn't think he's even stopped to take a breath since he started.

Good, she thinks viciously. Maybe he'll run out of oxygen.

"I did not," she hears Harry whisper to her, his voice almost drowned out by Nick's laughter.

"Fuck," Jenna whispers, without opening her eyes. "Leave me here to die." She can't believe she ended up here, embarrassed and horny in front of the guy she's been wanking to since she was eighteen. She doesn't think life can get much worse than this.

"It's okay, you know, I blurt out things all the time" Harry whispers, his breath ghosting over Jenna’s face. "Also, you're not allowed to say ‘cock’ on radio."

Oh, so now he's concerned about radio content. What is Harry Styles.

"Please do not try to make me feel better about this," Jenna says through her teeth, ignoring his second statement. They're going to get taken off air because of this interview, anyway. She raises an arm to cover her eyes. "Just....ignore it. Please."

Harry, because he's nice, doesn't say anything anymore, instead pulls himself off of Jenna, so that he's sitting on his knees beside Jenna on the carpeted floor. Jenna takes three deep breaths before she opens her eyes, sits up, and runs to the radio console, where Nick is still cackling obnoxiously. She lets Nick take care of the goodbyes, shakes Harry's hand once and refuses to meet his eyes, and doesn't say anything until Harry has left the room and Watermelon Sugar is playing on air.

"So?" Nick hedges, nudging Louis with an elbow. "That was fun right?"

"I'm going to murder you in your sleep," Jenna answers, glaring. "That was fucking humiliating."

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad," Nick says, dismissively, wrapping an arm around Jenna’s shoulder. Jenna wants to saw it off his arm.

"You're not the one who started talking about whale cock in front of like, three cameras," Jenna hisses back at him.

"You could barely hear it anyway," Nick says, rolling his eyes. He pinches Jenna’s shoulder, waggling his eyebrows . "But Harry, eh? That was some intense flirting you had going on there."

"Nick," Jenna says, deadpan. "He's not single. You should know this, he's one of your best friends."

Nick frowns, but before he can open his mouth to say something, Jenna beats him to it. "Never mind him. He's probably going to get us suspended anyway, with all his obscene answers and talk about bums."

Nick cackles again, with his head thrown back. "That was pretty funny."

"Yeah, well let's see how funny it is when we get taken off air for a week straight," Jenna answers, rolling her eyes, before reaching over to queue up the next song.

Nick, the twat, just keeps laughing.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x oc #harry styles writing #watermelon sugar

23 notes · View notes