#actor harry

Especially now, with his lazily affectionate words falling from his pink, puffed lips, how was she supposed to just pretend her heart didn't flutter and her tummy didn't bubble full of honeybees and butterflies at his words. How was she supposed to ignore all of that when he was looking so cozy that (Y/N) swore she could cuddle into his chest and earn back her interrupted sleep from this morning.

His unstyled hair flopped over his forehead in lazy curls that matched the hood of his eyes. A rumpled green top covered his torso with the back decorated in large, pink hearts, something about self-love scrawled within the emblems. A soft pair of sweatpants encasing his legs, a rainbow gradient working over the fabric as he sat in the blanket draped chair at the cent of the vanity installed in his trailer. The amber colored bulbs were dimmed to his morning preference, the light bathing him in a golden haze that made him too pretty to be fair this early in the morning. He was the perfect lazy dream, and she couldn't ignore it if she tried.

But, no matter how much of a school-girl crush she felt, she knew this was nothing more than puppy love for a kind person who was acting as her boss for the next couple of months.

"Maybe you did," she answered him with a soft smile, hoping he didn't notice the rise in temperature behind her cheeks, "I'll be back to get you for hair and makeup, okay? Let me know if you need anything before then."

Harry gave her a soft nod, a wave of his ringless fingers being tossed in her direction. "I'll be waiting," he said, "Thank you again, (Y/N)."

Stepping out into the slowly warming morning air, (Y/N) couldn't be more grateful for the role she found herself in. Even if she was getting a little tired of these early morning call times.

—————

"Cut!"

The sound of the director's barked caused (Y/N) to jump, not having excepted the loud call in the middle of such an intense scene. While the shout made her and the other unsuspecting PA's and crew jump, the actors in front of the camera, including Harry, seemingly relaxed at the barking tone.

In a split second, Harry, who had previously donned a murderous scowl as he recited his whispered lines, slipped back into his true persona with a soft set in his shoulders, brow raised as he looked to the director for any instructions. Even now on the set of her fourth movie working as a crew member, and three weeks into his specific production, it still astounded her how actors like Harry were able to flip that switch so expertly.

He was set to play a morally grey character, allowing him the chance to enact some dark scenes (Y/N) got the privilege of witnessing first hand, just like today. Currently the set they were shooting in was meant to be the dark alleyway between a pair of abandoned buildings, the shot filled with dark crevices and menacing lighting that drained the scene to grayscale. She didn't have the firmest grasp on what the movie was about and what each scene was to entail (this specific director was known for leaving members of the production in the dark in an effort to gain the most organic reactions from actors and allow him to fully guide the film), but so far (Y/N) was entranced by Harry's character. She couldn't wait to see what everything looked like when it all came together.

When no other instructions other than a call for a break was given, Harry nodded with a smile to his scene partner before striding off set and out into the real world. Though he was no longer in character, he still looked the part as he gave her a smile from across the camera line. His tan, pressed slacks were ripped and frayed at the hem, matching the dishevelment of the white t-shirt tucked into the waistline, something the wardrobe department mixed up to look like blood staining the collar. His skin had been scrubbed clean of his collection of tattoos that morning, the ink now buried under layers of carefully applied makeup. His skin was clean and glowing, a sheen over his features sure to be emphasized in editing to highlight his features and the cut lines of his face. His hair had been meticulously styled to look perfectly disheveled, as if he really had ran his hand through the strands a thousand times before appearing on camera.

Seeing him like this, it was a wonder he wasn't cast for any and every movie, right smack as the lead.

She knew she'd go to the theater more often if that was the case.

His smile grew larger the closer he drew to her, his hand coming up to absently scratch at the patch of his chest exposed by the less than buttoned state of his shirt. "Hi," he said, his chipper greeting being a complete turnaround from the deep gravel that touched his voice during the scene, "How was that?"

He looked to her eagerly with his grin wide and dimples deep, seeking her honest opinion. He always did this when they cut for a break and (Y/N) was lucky enough to have the time to watch, always asking what she thought of the scene and if there was anything he should do to make the performance carry more impact. Today, just like almost every other day, she had nothing but glowing reviews for his acting.

"It was perfect, Mr. Styles," she praised, skipping into step beside him, "You looked really scary for a little bit, not going to lie." She gazed up at him with a smile, hoping he knew just how honestly she meant her kind words.

"Really?" he asked, looking down at her as he worked to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt, readying himself for the lunch break, "Didn't mean to scare you, (Y/N)."

"But that's the point, remember?" she countered, "You're supposed to be scary, that's how I know it was good. Even without all the special editing, and angles, and everything, it still scared me. It looked like you meant it, what you were saying. It was really, really good."

His smile turned crooked as he dropped his eyes to the ground where their steps were in line. "Yeah? You think so?

From a few of the conversations they'd had regarding the movie, Harry had shared with her some of his nerves over the role. He'd only ventured into something dark like this once before, but never on a scale like this one. He had told her he was worried he wasn't quite cut out for this all, despite having been vetted through the same auditioning process like everyone else, having earned the role and proven himself like the rest of the cast.

"I know so, Mr. Styles."

A bashful smile curved his lips, dimples denting his cheeks. Harry flicked his gaze to her through the vignette of his lashes, the intensity of the contact showing her how sincerely he appreciated her. "Thank you."

"Of course," she peeped, cheeks growing hot under his attention. She feared, after these weeks with him, that she'd never get used to that level of engrossment from him, eye contact and all. Being nothing more than a personal assistant to such large stars on movie sets made it something of an impossibility to be taken note of, so Harry's attention made even more of an impact than she's sure he knew. It made her feel important. "Um," she started, shaking herself from her thoughts though her brain lagged behind her mouth, "Before you go change, I can take your lunch order so its ready when you are, if you want?"

Harry let out a hum as he considered her words, taking on the opposite cuff now that the first was loose. After a moment, he finally looked to her with his brows raised, "What are y'getting?"

"Probably that salmon that we had last week again, the one with the lemon and capers," she answered, already eager to break off and finally eat since the short breakfast she had at four a.m. before coming to set. "Did you want the scampi again, or try the crab cakes you missed last time?"

Another contemplative hum left his throat as they approached the small stack of stairs to his trailer, both Harry's name and his character's name plastered to the door. "I'll be brave and try the crab cakes, I think," Harry joked, stopping in front of the small case to face (Y/N).

"Okay," she chirped, cataloguing the entree away next to the same sides he asked for every time—a side Caesar salad and the sage butter peas served daily. "I'll go pass that along and bring it to you when you're ready!"

"Wait, wait," Harry stopped her, a gentle hand cupping her elbow before she could get too far. (Y/N) spun on her heel, a question raising her brows as she looked to him. Maybe he wanted to try the kale salad instead today. His question only made her brows shoot higher in confusion. "What are y'doing for lunch?"

"Oh," she sounded, caught off guard, "I was probably going to go around back, like I usually do. Why?"

He rolled his lips between his teeth, his brows pulling to a furrow. He ignored her own question in favor of posing another of his own, "Alone?"

"Most of the time, yeah," she nodded, "Depends on who's on break at the same time, and everything."

Harry nodded his head slowly at her words, his grip on her elbow loosening until falling away to hang his hand at his side. His gaze only flitted from her own to take stock of her features for a moment. "Would y'want to eat with me, instead?"

Never had she had a boss ask her to take her lunch with them. They were usually much too busy or in need of space after being fussed over for hours on end (or just plain divas who didn't believe they had time to sink low enough to have a meal with their assistant).

"Are you sure?"

His expression never swayed, staying firm on his offer. "Yes."

How was she supposed to say no to something like that?

A bright smile bloomed across her features, her fingers itching to tuck on the tiny locket clasped around her neck. "Okay, yeah," she sighed, "I'll come back when everything is ready, if that's okay. Thank you, Mr. Styles."

He shook his head, curls flopping over his forehead, "Don't need to thank me or anything, jus' come back soon."

(Y/N) lagged in her spot for a moment, the toe of her shoe scraping the pavement beneath them. He wanted her to come back to him. He wasn't making this easy for her.

She nodded her head to him biting back a smile that stuck on her face the whole way to the catering tent.

—————

"I didn't know y'worked on that movie. 'S one of m'favorites."

(Y/N) keened under Harry's attention, having become completely enveloped with it since walking into his trailer with their lunch. She had barely kept it under wraps when she was placing their orders and awaiting the plates to be put together while she stood with the rest of the assistants and crew under the tent, bursting at the seams with the excitement of her lunch invitation. Under her own accord, she figured it would be better to keep this to herself for the time being, knowing just how quickly the rumor mill turned on productions like these. Whether or not Harry's invitation meant anything, it would no doubt be taken in as many different and scandalous ways possible just to give the bored crew something to talk about (and potentially sell to the press).

But, the second she scaled those short steps to his trailer, (Y/N) had felt both high and grounded at the same time. Harry was just as genuine as he had come across in their daily interactions; his attention never swaying from her as she spoke, even when she shared stories she had no doubt were pale in comparison to the arsenal he walked around with. He seemed to be actually interested in her.

Nodding her head, (Y/N) tucked herself further into the corner of the small couch pressed against the wall of the trailer. Her lunch was only halfway finished despite the fact they had less than ten minutes of the promised break left, too occupied to focus on eating. "Mhm," she hummed, "It the first real movie I ever got to work on. I didn't know it was your favorite, Mr. Styles."

Harry was quick to shake his head at her words, swallowing down the bite of crab cake with a furrow to his brow. "Don't have to call me that, you know," he said after his mouth was no longer full, looking to her through the curls that fell over his forehead, "I know 'm technically your boss, or whatever, but y'don't have to call me that. 'M okay with Harry, or H."

(Y/N) hesitated for a second. She'd never been explicitly invited to work around the chain of command like that before. "I don't know, Mr. Styles..."

While it wasn't exactly against the rules, she doubted their director and hoard of producers—legends in Hollywood, known for their traditional approach to productions—would be privy to the idea of her cozying up to the star of what was slated to be a blockbuster film.

"We're friends, right?" he asked, prodding her gently with a raised brow as he scooped up a bite of peas.

A smile pinched at the corners of her mouth. "I'd hope so."

"Then, please, call me Harry. I want y'to call me that."

Glancing up through her lashes, she found him looking to her with that moss green intensity simmering in his eyes. He was being honest. He considered them to be friends, and wanted her to treat him as such, not as the talent on set that happened to also be her superior.

"Okay, Harry."

A dimple-inducing smile molded his features, the smile too big for him to even take the bite of peas he had queued up. She was happy he had his eyes pointed downward at the plate in his lap for the time being, so he wouldn't see her testing the heat hiding behind her cheeks with a brush of her fingers.

Adjusting his posture, Harry placed his almost finished plate to the side, resting on the vanity that lined the front of his trailer. His attention was placed solely on her, his phone nowhere in sight.

With his elbow propped on his knee, Harry fit his chin in his palm. "If y'don't mind me asking, what other movies have y'been a part of?"

She shrugged her shoulders in response, "I haven't worked on a lot or anything, I don't have a bunch of cool stories outside of the one I just told you."

At that, Harry let out a small laugh, the sound permeating the small trailer.

"What's funny?" (Y/N) asked though a smile was already picking at the edges of her lips at the sound of his happiness. Whatever she did to draw that from him, she hoped he'd tell her so she could do it again.

"Nothing," he said shaking his head, "You're jus' cute. I want to hear all of your stories, even the ones y'don't think are 'cool'. Besides, I think you're plenty cool for the both of us, so I can make up for it."

Before (Y/N) could formulate any kind of response, a breathless laugh fell from her lips. The sound was tugged out from nothing other than utter happiness in that moment. She'd never met anyone like Harry Styles before, especially after moving to L.A..

Though she could have reveled in the knowledge that not only did he think she was cool, but he said she was cute, too, but she was too aware of the fact he was waiting on her and the handful of stories she had left to share. She'd scream into her pillow later tonight about those sweet words wrapped in his graveled voice, but for now, she was going to pick out her most impressive stories and hope that gleam he saw in her never lessened.

"Well," she started, canting her head, "A couple of years ago, I was working on a movie with Anya Taylor-Joy and..."

As (Y/N) pattered on with her story, she couldn't help but notice that Harry's eyes never moved from her and the smile on his lips never lessened.

—————

"They were all out of croissants today, but I did grab that brioche and egg sandwich you've been smelling in the morning," (Y/N) introduced as she brought in Harry's breakfast the following morning. She'd only been here for about an hour, and her cheeks already hurt from how large her grin was at the prospect of seeing Harry again after their lunch the day before.

Though she knew the croissants were his favorite, when she shared the change of plans with him, Harry's expression never swayed from the silent contentment that touched at his eyes and threatened the corners of his lips.

"You're the best, (Y/N)," Harry praised her, morning voice especially deep due to the early call time today. He had to get his entire body scrubbed of his tattoos today, not just his forearm and the birds on his chest, the project going to be nothing less than a couple hours long for the makeup department.

"And you're too sweet," she countered, unable to match his eyes as the gentle compliment left her lips, feeling too shy. There was a certain barrier that was lacking now after their shared lunch break the day before, but she still wasn't as free-wheeling with the praise when it didn't pertain to his acting. With his coffee and food safely in his hands, (Y/N) began to edge out of his trailer, "I'll be back to grab you for hair and makeup in about twenty minutes, but let me know if you need anything before then."

Harry nodded his head as he sipped his coffee. "Before y'go," he interrupted her exit, waiting as (Y/N) lifted her chin in acknowledgment, "You're eating lunch with me again today, right?"

If not for the fact that she could hear her blood pumping through her ears and the heat she felt behind her smiling cheeks, (Y/N) would have thought her heart stopped in that moment.

"Do you want me to?

A crooked smile took home on Harry's lips, the curve being seen around the rim of his paper coffee cup. "Unless y'have plans."

She was quick to shake her head, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip in effort to bite back the grin tugging at her lips. "No, no. I'll be here."

"Good."

All the while (Y/N) ran around, getting Harry's things ready for the day, she carried that good around with her.

—————

As (Y/N) watched Harry shoot, once again returning to the murky alley way they had filmed in over a week ago, she noticed the circles lingering under his eyes. Makeup hadn't bothered to cover them since they paired well with the distress his character was meant to be under for the scene, but seeing them and knowing they were real chipped at (Y/N)'s heart just a bit.

She knew he was entrenched in some album decisions, lots of final calls being presented to him the closer the record pressing deadline came. (He was deadset on releasing vinyl versions of this album he had told her, in several different colors too, no matter if the deadlines were crashing into his filming schedule). This morning, when she dropped off his breakfast, he had already been dressed and put up in character after shooting a set of early scenes, earlier than even her own set time, only a skeleton crew being used until five a.m.. He had shared just a bit of his woes with her, telling her he had been up on a conference call with his label and manager until the late hours of the night to finalize the album rollout and promotion strategy that went along with it. He barely made it to bed after midnight, before his alarm was screaming at him to wake a few short hours later.

While (Y/N) usually loved to sit in and watch him work, today wasn't as magical as she was used to. He had no shortage of talent like he lacked sleep, but knowing what was happening underneath his character made her want to tug him away and set him up in his trailer with a warm blanket and permission to nap.

"Let's break for lunch!" (Y/N) heard called across the lot, the voice of the director reaching through to where Harry had been loosening up after nailing that scene.

She heard another stream of instructions, Harry's scene partner needed back in an hour while Harry could be off for the next couple. At the news, the stiff set in his shoulders fell before he almost brought his hand up to run through his hair. Just in time, he remembered the gel sculpting his hair into perfect waves that would no doubt need to remain the same for whatever was planned after his break. Nonetheless, a deep breath was released from his lungs as he strode off set. His eyes scanned over the line of cameras and crew, peering through the lights trained on the set.

With the way his eyes brightened when he caught sight of her, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel like he had been looking for her.

"You're staying with me for lunch again, right?" Harry asked, skipping the usual question of what she thought of the scene.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," (Y/N) hurried to reassure him, falling into sync with his steps, "Still tired?"

Harry let out a sigh, eyes facing the ground as they approached his trailer. "Yeah," he confirmed, the weight of the sleepless hours settling in his voice, "'S been a long day already and it's not even noon, yet."

Letting out a breathless laugh, (Y/N) wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him in sympathy. "I'm sorry, H," she said, peering up at him with a sympathetic pout puffing her lips, "At least you have a little bit of a break now. You can relax after we eat."

A crooked smile took home on Harry's lips as he shifted his gaze to settle on her, "Not your fault, don't apologize," he murmured to her, his voice quiet just for the two of them. With the way he was looking at her, (Y/N) hadn't even noticed they made it to his trailer until she felt his warm hand wrap around her arm, stopping her from continuing to walk off without him. Harry flicked his gaze up to the door of his trailer before returning to (Y/N) with a slight furrow to his brow though he never lost his lopsided smile, "And where did y'think y'were going?"

Instantly, a heat was felt behind (Y/N)'s cheeks. All the blood that wasn't rushing to where Harry was touching her, flooded to her cheeks and warmed her skin. "Oh-I," she stuttered, her tongue fumbling behind her lips, "I didn't realize..."

Harry shook his head, his grin growing. "You're so cute."

Taking in a deep breath, (Y/N) bit back her smile. Though reluctant to leave his grip and the blanket of his shadow, she gestured behind her shoulder towards the set and the catering tent. "I should go get our lunches and everything," she said, her words coming out in something of a daze, "I'll be right back."

Her words were meant to be a statement, a short promise of her return, but in the end a little curved her tone like a question.

"Okay," Harry answered, his hand falling from around her arm though the phantom of his fingers still remained, "Hurry back."

And, that she did.

—————

After hearing a faint Come in! called through Harry's trailer door, (Y/N) maneuvered her way inside while juggling a pair of plates stacked with their chosen lunches for the day. (Ever since the day he tried the crab cakes, whenever they were served Harry didn't waste time in assuring that's what (Y/N) was packing for him). Once inside, while she'd never seen it before, (Y/N) couldn't be all that surprised with what she found with how the day was going.

Typically, Harry was the kind of person to have as much light filtering through his trailer as possible, the space bright and sunny as they worked throughout the day. But, with the fact he was working on less than enough sleep and the eye bags that hung under his lashes, she shouldn't have been that surprised that he finally utilized the heavy curtains pinned around the windows and had the minimum amount of lights on while still allowing him enough of a glow to see.

While it was most likely no where near as comfortable as the bed he surely wanted, Harry still tucked himself into the quilted couch pushed against he sidewall that he and (Y/N) usually ate at. He had changed out of his character clothing, the articles carefully folded and set on the vanity. Seemingly forgetting—or no longer caring—about the amount of gel used to make his hair the perfectly-unperfect mess that was becoming his character's trademark the more the film progressed, Harry even succumbed to using the stiff decorative throw pillows he usually complained about, his head pillowed by the unforgiving foam.

Eyes fluttering open at her arrival, Harry made the massive effort of leaving his relaxed position laid out on the couch, to sit up with a sigh. "You're back," he announced sleepily, "I kind of fell asleep for a little bit, sorry."

"No, no, don't be sorry," (Y/N) murmured, keeping her tone quiet to match the ambiance of his trailer, "I can leave you be if you want. You don't have to eat with me if you're so tired."

The sleep mussed curls on his head fell over his forehead as he shook his head. "No, I want y'to stay."

Her heart began to glow in her chest at his words. Though she felt a bit guilty to be distracting him from his needed break time that he could use to nap, she wasn't going to deny him (or herself, really) from his wants.

"Okay," she peeped, taking her usual spot in the cushioned corner of the couch once she passed his plate off.

Maybe it was the way the sun filtered though in gentle slivers, or the feel of the plush blanket that hung over the back of the couch, or just the sound of another being so close to her, but (Y/N) was halfway sure this is the closest to home she'd ever felt while being on set. If not for the close quarters and the fact the closest bathroom was through a series of hallways through the studio, she would have convinced herself this was some new overpriced apartment she managed to snag in the middle of the city, Harry only becoming another anchor that urged her to curl up and stay awhile.

His presence covered her like the warm blanket pressed into her back, keeping her warmer than the lattice of sunlight that spotted through the trailer. In the ambiance of the confined space, (Y/N) didn't feel the usual need to fill the silence with any kind of conversation, feeling comforted by the quiet that could settle between them. Through the weeks, he'd become a good friend to her. Of course, he was the kind of friend that had the power to boss her around and made her heart flutter every time he smiled at her, so she figured it was a bit of an unconventional friendship. Nonetheless, she truly hoped this would be something that followed her after filming wrapped and she had no excuse to be around him day in and day out.

"You're alright outside of being tired, right?" (Y/N) questioned, stealing a glance at the way Harry didn't do much more than take a couple bites of his food before pushing around the rest.

A quiet nod was offered before he found his voice, a heavy hand running through his hair. Hair and makeup was going to hate him later.

"Yeah, 'm jus' a little exhausted, honestly," he told her, a sleep-soaked smile curling his lips.

Rolling her lips between her teeth, (Y/N) plucked together an idea with the feel of the down blanket brushing against her form. Looking to Harry, she found those bags persisting under his eyes as he gazed at her with his cheek cupped in his hand and elbow propped on his knee.

"You can lay down again, if you want," she offered, grabbing for Harry's plate before pushing them both off onto the vanity just within reach of her side of the couch. Reaching behind her, she tugged the quilt thrown over the back of the sofa, "Take a nap, and I'll wake you up when its time."

Passing the comforter to him, (Y/N) made a move to desert her spot on the cushion to give his long form full reign over the couch, but was promptly stopped with a gentle hand on her shoulder. Harry didn't say much as (Y/N) settled back in her spot, her mouth falling into a small gape. He maneuvered himself to sprawl across the sofa, feet on the other end where he had been sitting with the blanket now covering his form. (Y/N) knew what was coming before she felt it, but even as he laid his head down to be cushioned by her thighs, she swore her heart stopped all together.

(Y/N) couldn't have been more grateful for the new lack of gel in his hair as the strands flared out in her lap, baby curls framing his face. Highlighted by the slivers of sunlight peeking through, his cheekbones looked especially high, the remaining sheen of his makeup shimmering in the light. If not for the darkened circles under his eyes, (Y/N) would have sworn he was the prince in a storybook, even if he was dressed in an oversized crewneck with visible tears in the collar.

Through hooded lids, lashes fluttering, Harry gazed up at her. "Is this alright?" he murmured.

With her voice stuck in her throat, (Y/N) nodded her head, a tender smile tugging at her lips. She acted on instinct as she brought her hand to his hair, a single finger brushing a stray curl from his eyes. Harry only reacted with his eyes trying to follow the motion, the lilpads going crossed in his efforts. The laugh that drew from (Y/N) caused Harry's own smile to unfurl on his lips, his body sinking further into the small reprieve offered in that moment.

That single finger caress of (Y/N)'s turned into her fingers trailing through his hair now that she knew he wasn't perturbed by her touch. She combed the strands through her fingers, dismantling the few remaining constructed waves as she went. Harry's eyes fluttered closed at the touch, a deep breath expanding his lungs while a look of contentment molded his features and sunk his shoulders into the cushions.

"That feels nice," Harry murmured, voice lazy as she worked.

"Want me to keep going?"

His quiet smile widened further at her question, dimples popping into his cheeks, "Mhm. Please."

At his request, (Y/N) glazed her attention over him like honey. She worked her fingers in gentle strokes through his hair, fingertips brushing along his hairline in cautious touches to satiate the urge to know what it felt like to touch his skin and feel his face under her hands. Harry was a willing participant in the way he practically lent into her touch like a kitten, keening as she stroked his skin. In a daring move (at least to (Y/N)), after tracing over the baby curls lining his hairline, (Y/N) strayed from her familiar path. The tip of her index finger grazed over his cheekbone, touching over the sheen she had been familiarizing herself with as she laid her affection all over him. The planes of his face directed her further over his features, drawing her to the line of his nose and the curves of his brows. It was only when she dared graze over the hills and valleys of his Cupid's bow that she realized he was smiling.

"What?" she asked, taking the opportunity to poke at his dimple.

"Nothing," he whispered, blinking his eyes open to look at her. The tension his eyes had held through the day had dissipated, having floated away now that he wasn't under the pressure of the lights and producers trying to squeeze the best out of him. He used his eyes like (Y/N) used her hands, tracing over all of her features, seemingly cataloguing them away for another day. "'S nothing, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) made a move to take her hand away from his skin, intending on tucking it underneath her thigh so she didn't do anything embarrassing now that he could see her. She didn't get very far before Harry gently grabbed at her wrist, fingers wrapping around her arm.

"Don't stop," Harry murmured, his request simple though his eyes were intense on hers.

He kept her hand pressed to his cheek, fingertips dipping into his hairline while her palm fit to the curve of his cheek. Harry was in control of her movements then, using his grip on her wrist to tug her hand over his skin. Slowly grazing his face, feeling every curve and dip of his features, the rough stubble he had grown for his character, she swore she felt the faintest heat rise to his cheeks. In a slow glide, Harry brought her fingertips dangerously close to his lips.

Stopping just before she could touch the raspberry colored skin, (Y/N) flicked her gaze from her hands to find Harry looking at her just as intently as when they began. Her mouth suddenly felt dry under his attention, this moment feeling different than any they had shared before.

Swallowing, (Y/N) struggled to find her voice. "H-Harry, I—"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

(Y/N) jumped in her spot, her movement effectively jerking her hand out of Harry's grasp. Someone was knocking on the trailer door.

"(Y/N)? Are you in there?"

The familiar voice of one of her fellow assistants, Meredith, sounded on the other side of the door. She was one of the few that knew where she spent her lunch breaks these days, and (Y/N) knew she wouldn't bother her if it wasn't important.

"Y-Yeah," (Y/N) croaked, cringing at the crack of her voice, "Is everything okay?"

"Russ needed some help unloading costumes for the cocktail scene," Meredith explained, "It's kind of a lot with all of the extras, so I was hoping you could help a little. If you weren't busy anyway."

Her final statement was tacked on at the end like an afterthought. Though (Y/N) wished she could take advantage of that out, she knew she really wasn't busy with anything else other than indulging herself.

Looking down at Harry still tucked in her lap, he gave her a gentle nod of his head.

"No, I can come help. Give me a second," (Y/N) called back, feeling the fragile thread that had weaved to tie them together in that moment become severed.

Meredith called out and Okay, thanks! before the other side of the door went silent, leaving a less-than perfect quiet to settle in the trailer.

Harry's movements were lethargic as he moved to sit up, leaving (Y/N) cold as she stood from her spot. She didn't know what to do with her hands now that she knew how much she'd rather be raking them through Harry's hair and grazing the peaks and valleys of his face.

She shuffled on her feet as she looked at him, "I'll—um—I'll come back after, and everything. Okay?"

A tender smile stretched Harry's lips, his fingers coming up to pluck at his bottom lip. "Okay. Hurry back."

All through the task of unloading the wardrobe trailer, (Y/N) never stopped thinking about just how close she was to feeling the edge of Harry's lips. What a privilege that would have been.

—————

"Cut! That's it for today, everybody go home. Good work!"

Harry's eyes immediately scanned the team behind the camera line, (Y/N) watching as he lit up once he caught sight of her. He only lagged behind a second, sharing quick goodbyes with his scene partners and the crew that helped craft the scene, including a shaking of hands with the director, before he was stepping past the line of ready crew to where (Y/N) was waiting a few paces back.

"Hey, you," he greeted her once he was close enough, smile bright.

"Hi." She reciprocated his grin, falling into step with him as they moved, "That was really good, H. You have to promise to take me to the Oscars when you get nominated for this role."

Peering up at him, (Y/N) got the perfect view of a dimple thumbed into his cheek and what she swore was a blush tinting the tip of his ear red.

"Y'think I'll get nominated?"

"And win," (Y/N) added, a definite nod emphasizing just how much conviction she held in her claim. She didn't know what would look better: him on the big screen for two full hours or him glowing with an Oscar statuette in his hand?

Speaking through his smile, Harry mumbled out a shy, "Thank you, (Y/N)," her name just barely catching over the sound of their feet scuffing over the pavement.

As Harry's trailer came into view, with the knowledge that today had officially wrapped and (Y/N) had one last task of walking him to his trailer before setting off herself to go home, she dreaded the remaining paces.

Harry had been insanely busy all day, getting the smallest of detail shots done before specific sets were set to be torn down to leave the rest of the time for the major scenes that needed more time to refine. Aside from the short breakfast they had that morning and a twenty minute lunch, there wasn't much time leftover to spend together like (Y/N) was becoming so used to. And, now she was going to go home and hope she had more time with him tomorrow, even though she knew the closer the final shoot day came, the less and less time he would have for her.

"What's got y'looking all sad, hm?" Harry asked, his words fragranced with he smile she was sure was pinned to his face. Nonetheless, (Y/N) kept her eyes trained on their steps, the yards disappearing much faster than she would have liked.

"Nothing," she shrugged, "Just tired. If it's been a long day for me, I don't know how you're still standing right now."

With her eyes trained forward, (Y/N) didn't see the way Harry was gazing her and especially didn't see him nudge closer before throwing his arm over her shoulders. The weight was a welcome heft over her form, tugging her into Harry's side as he gazed down at her. He was warm against her, just as warm as she caught a glimpse of in his trailer a week ago and just as warm as the sincerity in his eyes suggested.

"What are y'doing after this?" he asked, his tone gentle between just the two of them.

(Y/N) feared her tongue had gone numb as she struggled to find any kind of footing in that moment, nothing threading together in her head as she matched his eye contact. Harry seemed like he knew exactly what she was struggling with as his grin turned crooked, a break in his eye contact happening as he flitted over her softened features. A soft squeeze was delivered to her bicep with the hand he had thrown over her shoulders.

"Y'alright?"

That was enough to knock (Y/N) out of her stupor and take stock of the rest of her body that wasn't in direct contact with his. It was then that she realized that their feet had slowed a fair amount, the length between them and his trailer now taking much longer to cover.

"Y-yeah, sorry," she murmured, "I'm—uh—I'm not doing anything after this, no."

Harry rolled his lips between his teeth at her words. The moss coloring of his irises were what held (Y/N)'s attention even as his own eyes trailed over her face, tracing along the dips of her features and even daring to go as low as the curve of her neck and slope of her shoulders.

If he was thinking anything near what she was thinking...

The sound of another's trailer door slamming to a close seemed to shatter the bubble forming around them. Harry used the reprieve to suck in a breath (Y/N) hadn't realized he was denying himself. Though the weight on her shoulders remained, his hand dangling over her shoulder, he lessened the impact from the heft that slowed their steps.

Harry cleared his throat with a rumble, his gaze drifting from hers as he faced forward. "That's good, y'should go home and sleep. 'S supposed to start getting a little crazy soon, and I don't want y'getting sick or feeling unwell while you're running around for me."

(Y/N)'s lashes fluttered in a series of blinks. When had everything around Harry turned into a blur with him being the only steady focal point?

"Right," she agreed, only half processing his words though she knew it wasn't exactly the response she had been anticipating. She had sworn she saw him look at her lips.

Now at the doorstep of his trailer, Harry's last stop for the day to get out of costume before going home, (Y/N) had never wanted to stay at work this badly before. She didn't care about the rest he had suggested for her, she would much rather see if she had really caught him looking at her mouth, or if she just just falling victim to the whims of her heart.

"But, I'll see you in the morning, right?" Harry said with an air of finality, his arm falling from her shoulders as he turned to face her with the trailer behind him.

"Of course," she nodded her head, a bright smile worming its way on her lips out of habit, "Bright and early."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Harry murmured, a quiet smile on his lips that felt a lot more intimate than should be fair in the middle of a crowded studio lot, "You're m'favorite to see first thing in the morning, you know that?"

A conflict arose as (Y/N) realized that she didn't know if she wanted to smile at him, or allow her mouth to gape in awe of what he had just shared with her. No, she hadn't known that, but now (Y/N) was sure she wasn't ever going to forget that, even if just for a small amount of time, she had been Harry's favorite person to see first thing in the morning.

He must have been able to catch onto her floundering, as Harry only giving her a lopsided grin, a single dimple winking to her in the fading sunlight. "You're cute, (Y/N)," he said, obviously on a mission to kill her with a heart attack, "Let me know when y'get home safe, yeah?"

A soft yeah fell from (Y/N)'s lips as she managed to nod at him. With one more shake of his head, Harry backed into his trailer.

She'd never been more ready to go back to work, her time at home suddenly seeming like a burden when all she wanted was to be behind that door with him.

—————

With only a couple weeks left of filming, (Y/N) didn't want to squander any remaining time she had with Harry. That's why she didn't hesitate before running off to craft services and picking up their lunches as Harry finished off the scene they had taken all morning to shoot and get just the way the director envisioned it. She practically skipped all the way back to his trailer, her smile bright as she passed by fellow crew members and production assistants.

Carefully juggling the pair of plates in her hands, she scaled the stairs to his trailer and plucked open the door. (Y/N) practically jumped in her spot when she heard his deep voice filter through the small space, the same voice she only heard him use when he was in character and on set. She didn't know he was practicing lines for his lunch break today.

As she carefully crept in, (Y/N) held an apologetic smile as she continued her cautious balancing act with their food. "Sorry, I didn't know you were running lines today, I ca—"

"What?"

Harry's question brought (Y/N)'s eyes up from the plates, finding him sat on the sofa by himself with his script in hand.

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, now feeling especially silly after having walked in like she did, "I thought you were running lines with someone, sorry." She ended with a huff of a laugh, moving to pass Harry's lunch off to him instead of leaving it on the vanity.

"No," Harry smiled with a shake of his head, "'M jus' running it with myself. I've got this big monologue we're shooting on Friday that's been tripping me up, so 'm trying to get it down before then."

(Y/N) sat down in her designated corner of the couch, her brows raising as she listened to him. "What's the scene about?"

The script showed signs of wear as Harry placed it on the arm of the couch, folds on the corners of the pages as well as rips in the paper. It was obvious he had been trying to get this down for a while now, though (Y/N) couldn't figure out when he had the time since she was with him more often than not when he wasn't in front of the camera. With his eyes trained on the plate in his lap and brows pinched in a furrow, Harry pursed his lips before speaking. "'S the big love confession between mine and Vic's characters, after I find her in the basement," he mused, "But I can't get it right. None of it feels real, not like when I've read for the other scenes."  "Oh," (Y/N) sounded, eyes falling to the script on the other side of the couch, "Do you mind if I read it over? You can show me where you're hitting that wall, and I'll see if I can help."

Harry nodded his head, passing the staple bound pages to her. Thumbing through the pages, he brought her to the monologue he was referencing. "'S this part right here," he mumbled, unpainted fingernail pausing at a large paragraph of dialogue with Harry's character's name typed off to the side.

Scanning over it, (Y/N) read the confession with wide eyes. Even though she was a part of production, on high profile movies like this, often times, she and other crew weren't cleared to know the ins and outs of the film just to preserve the mystery around the scenes and lessen the chances of any leaks. This was the first real peek she was gaining into how the movie would all tie together, even with the few moments she's been able to watch behind the camera line.

God, she though, she couldn't wait until she got to see this all on the big screen.

Just the idea of Harry uttering these words, the sound of his rough, in-character voice, wrapping around the monologue made her mouth run dry.

"And-um-what part were you having trouble at?" she floundered, aware of the dazed quality to her voice as she tried to shake the echo of his voice from her head.

Swallowing the bite of food in his mouth, Harry pointed to a specific line, "This one. 'M supposed to be angry, in a way, at how much I love her. 'S supposed to be some kind of revelation that I've been doing all these things because I love her and not for myself."

(Y/N) had to hold back the lame sounding "oh" that threatened to fall from her lips. To save herself from a loose-lipped response, she looked to the script in her hands, tearing her gaze from Harry across from her. She read over the paragraph again, adding in the cues she learned from him, a frustrated undercurrent working its way under the confession inked on the pages.

She could see how it might be hard to execute out loud, the words needing to come together with the right pacing while allowing for the drama of the moment to sink in for both the audience and Victoria's character. Maybe he needed that energy to play off of, another in the room with him to react off of, to make it all feel real for him.

Knowing that Victoria was busy with other scenes not including Harry, (Y/N) allowed a wild hare of an idea to skitter through her mind.

They did have another hour and a half before he was needed again...

"I'm not any good or anything, but if you wanted to run your lines again with me just so you can have someone to play off of, I don't mind helping."

The offer ended in a lilt of (Y/N)'s voice, a question that he had every right to turn down if he would rather work alone.

"Really?"

The perky tone that held up Harry's voice caused (Y/N) to look up from the script. She found him gazing at her with a brightness in his eyes and brows raised. He looked excited.

"Yeah, if you want. I'm not Vic or anything, but I think I've been on enough sets to get the gist of it." (Y/N) worked her bottom lip between the blunt of her teeth, a fresh set of nerves touching at her.

A small smile bloomed on the corners of Harry's mouth, "Yeah, I'd like that. Thank you, (Y/N)." When she made a move to pass the script back to him, a proposal that they could read off the same page together forming on her tongue, Harry stopped her with a shake of his head and a melted hand pushing the pages back to her. "I can remember, y'keep it."

Their lunches were long forgotten, (Y/N) moving them to Harry's vanity where they sat half-eaten as Harry pointed out the section he wanted her to start at. Then, he settled into his cushion across the couch from her. Harry sat with his elbows on his knees, his entire body angled towards her with his head inclined her direction, chin up and expecting.

She felt transparent under his gaze, not a single secret having anywhere left to hide with the lilypads of his irises inspecting each and every single one of her movements.

Was this what is was like to work a scene with him? How anyone was able to keep their head on straight, let alone a scripted facade, she didn't know.

"Um," she floundered sucking in a deep breath, her rattled hands displaying a slight tremor as she scanned the script. "Ready?"

Harry only gave a hum in response, the tone deeper than even the voice he had been using a minutes prior.

A quick muttering of okay fell from (Y/N)'s lips before she started speaking. Using her best Victoria impression, and cues she had picked up while watching so many scenes, (Y/N) recited, "H-How do you know all of this? You're not making any sense, Ha—Keaton."

Ignoring the her stumble over his real name and character's name, Harry continued on from memory, "I think you already know the answer to that, sweetheart."

Whether it be the will of his character, or Harry acting on his own free will, (Y/N) couldn't ignore the way his eyes crawled over her face before dropping along the slope of her shoulder and down to the neckline of her top. His breathing was even and paced, nothing to give away that he might be reciprocating any of the buzzing (Y/N) felt beneath her skin.

"You didn't... that wasn't...," (Y/N) swallowed around her tongue like she was really in the dark basement described at the head of the scene, feeling exposed with Harry's eyes acting as the camera. "Keaton, don't tell me that you—"

"They were trying to hurt you, Piper, I saw them. You didn't see what I saw in them, but they weren't good people. Every time you turned your back, I saw them plotting to take something from you and ruin you." Harry ground his teeth, taking cues from his character.

"But, Josh, he didn—"

"Especially Joshua," Harry shot back, cutting off her stuttering, "You didn't see him for what he was, saw what he did when you weren't looking. He was the one taking things from your apartment and making you feel crazy when you noticed. He was the one taking you to all these places without telling you what was waiting in the dark when you got lost. He was the worst of them all, and I couldn't stand back and watch another person hurt you."

"Why would you do that?" she whispered, voice delicate in the space between them. If not for needing to read the script in her hands, (Y/N) never would draw her eyes away from Harry's, this moment sucking her in better than any film could achieve.

"Because, I love you," Harry paused for dramatic effect, his tip of his tongue drawing along the seam of his lips as he examined her, "I've been there every day, watching you be torn down by people who weren't good enough for you, tricked you into trusting them, or even made you love them before they left. I was here every time, on the other side of that wall, hearing you cry and scream and hope for something new. I couldn't hear you cry anymore, sweetheart, I couldn't.

"If you had to go through one more disappointment, one more elevator ride with red eyes, one more day being anything less than perfectly content, I was going to lose my mind. So, I fixed everything. For you." Harry's gaze finally fell from her own, the cage of his eyes freeing her as he dropped to her slightly gaping lips as she listened to him. "I did all of this because I love you. And I would do it again, just to give you even one more happy day."

Silence hung in the air as Harry finished his dialogue. Where he had been struggling, (Y/N) didn't pick up on it for a second. He complained about the moments, the wording, the dialect not coming out naturally and not feeling real, but (Y/N) would love to beg to differ.

If not for the hazy, warm lighting filtering through the clean trailer, (Y/N) would have thought she was in the dingy basement with a corpse shoved in the corner with her partner trying to explain it all away. In this moment, she felt like a prop to hold up Harry's performance, and she couldn't be more enchanted by the man sitting across from her.

Dropping her gaze to the script in hand, realizing just how long she had sat and stared at him, (Y/N) just about froze when she read the next set of directions.

"It says you're supposed to kiss me now." (Y/N) didn't know when she became so breathless, but the squeeze in her lungs was evident in her voice.

"Okay."

In a second, the script in her hand fell to the floor of the trailer and Harry was on her. His hand wrapped around her waist as his mouth sealed itself over her own, the pillows of his lips molding to the curves and dips of her mouth. This wasn't the kind of kiss between their characters instructed by the script, this was Harry and (Y/N). The knowledge allowed for a shot of adrenaline to shudder through (Y/N)'s body.

If not for the instinctual act of fluttering her eyes closed, (Y/N) would have yearned to know what he looked like when he slipped his mouth over hers and crawled atop her. Instead, she saw him with her hands.

Her first touch came with a fluttering of her palms over his shoulders before settling on the broad stretch of muscle covering his back. She scoured the length of his body under her palm, the ridges and dips of his muscles undeniable. He was completely solid, though it wasn't much of a surprise given the way she got a good view of this when he worked out on set and tucked under t-shirts he wore during breaks in between scenes. Her palms slid up his shoulders before her fingers carded through his hair, the baby curls bordering the hairline twisting around her touch as if they were keening into her. He hovered his weight above her, his hand on her waist and the one behind her on the armrest kept him from falling into her, though (Y/N) swore she could feel every inch of his body.

His breath came in puffs through his nose that fanned out over her skin, unwilling to pull away for something as trivial as breathing. His hand on her waist clenched as (Y/N) snuck the tip of her tongue out and sampled the curve of his mouth, just as she had seen him do not even ten minutes prior. A soft, choked groan wrapped in Harry's voice melted into her lips. She'd bet that if she opened her eyes in that moment, the dark brows that hovered over the cage of his eyes would be drawn into a pinch, as if he were concentrating on what it felt to finally have her.

"(Y/N)..." Harry murmured against her mouth, drawing away just enough to get the syllables out before he melted into her kiss again.

At the sound of her name floating on the grit of Harry's tone and the breath from his lungs that she was stealing as her own, (Y/N) adjusted her position underneath him. Her thighs split to accommodate the width of his hips, ankles hooking around his calves as he struggled to keep up the precarious hovering game he was doing instead of sinking into her form.

"(Y/N)," he tried again, more girth to the call now as he pulled away just enough to feel the full of his lips brushing against her mouth, "What are we doing?"

She knew what he was asking, but she wasn't sure she had an answer for him.

As far as (Y/N) knew and felt in her heart, this was the culmination of those threads she'd felt since the second week of filming that strung her to him finally unravelling. The knot she'd felt separating them whenever even the ghost of intimacy floated in their vicinity that stopped them from getting closer—whether the interference came in the form of a nosy crew member came pounding on his trailer door, a call time that made their moments together agonizingly short, or even her awareness that came in the form of a blinking reminder that he was her boss, it always won—came apart in tatters. It left nothing but the liquid velvet of the disintegrating tension to melt over her. She was finally getting what she wanted since the first day she was too aware of the shape of his lips and the light that filled his eyes when she greeted him in the morning with coffee and breakfast.

But that wasn't much of an answer when he tugged at her shirt with wandering hands and inky pupils that gazed lazily into her own from centimeters away.

"Anything you want, that's what we're doing," she settled on. It was safe. He got to call the shots and set the pace. (Y/N) would happily take whatever was given, even if it began and ended on this couch with his lips sealed to her own.

A long moment transpired as Harry gazed at her, unfocused eyes matching her own. A breath she hadn't known he was holding flared out from his nose, fanning over her skin just before he'd had enough of the space and pressed his lips to hers in a hungry kiss.

He seemed to like her answer.

(Y/N) followed his cues as he eased her mouth open with his own, his lips capturing her bottom one between his two with a sighing inhale. She chased after him, wanting to taste her the same way he was getting the privilege to do to her. With her hands in his hair and thighs clamped around his hips, she slipped her tongue out and touched at his mouth.

Something akin to a groan bubbled from Harry's throat, his hand on her waist tensing into something almost considered painful if not for the fact (Y/N) was only registering each of his touches with nothing but pleasure. Using his grip on her, he adjusted her to lay completely beneath him, head propped up by the stiff decorative pillow shoved against the armrest of the sofa.

With his body lain almost totally against her, (Y/N) felt each of his breaths that puffed out his chest before the exhale was felt on her face. The training that he had gone through to be fit for the movie role was blatant as she felt each of the packed muscles of his abdomen against her tummy, his thighs strong and thick between her own.

The hand on (Y/N) waist snuck a trail down her side before the hem of her top was revealed and thus moved out of the way by his greedy fingertips.

"How much time do we have?" he breathed against her lips, peeling away just enough to get his words out and for her to form a response.

Harry had a call time of two this afternoon, and it had been one-oh-five when she found herself on the doorstep of his trailer. "A little more than a half hour, I think."

A pleased smile was felt against her lips, something smug woven into the curl. She would have wanted to see if not for the fact she got to feel it.

"That's enough for me."

(Y/N) all but melted into the cushions at his words. He was going to have her worked over in less than a half hour before he was called back to set to play his Oscar-worthy character, her kiss on his lips. That was enough for her, too.

"Please."

That was (Y/N)'s lame response that garnered a deft reaction from Harry that had her positioned on his lap as he now sat back against the sofa, his lap now a chair for her. His now familiar mouth abandoned her lips—her lungs certainly weren't complaining when she realized how oxygen-deprived she was—and worked a trail down her neck and to the shelf of her collarbones. Though her eyes were closed with her head tipped back, (Y/N) knew that if she dared a glance in the mirror to the left of them, she would no doubt see his swollen lips dotting spit-slicked kisses over her skin that would shine in the small light offered through his windows.

"Still doing what I want, right?" Harry murmured, his words were felt more than they were heard.

"Mhm," (Y/N) hummed though she felt dangerously close to a whimper, "Anything."

"Take off your shirt."

As much as his command was direct and swift, it was equal parts soft and compromising. If she said no, there would be no retribution. Though they were playing the game of whatever Harry wanted, the game would be no fun if she wasn't a willing participant that helped him shape the rules.

Her compliance came in the form of her arms crossing over her torso, before her fingers grasped the hem of her top and pulled it over her head to be dropped to the floor. Harry's hands were warm on her now bare waist, though they still elicited a layer of goosebumps to appear on her skin. Her chest heaving inches from his face was enough to draw Harry's eyes from her features and down the expanse of bare skin that now greeted him like the breakfast she offered every morning.

Dipping his head down, Harry continued his game of planting kisses down her chest until he met the swells of her breasts. The paisley print of her bra no longer felt as silly as it did when she was getting dressed this morning—under his attention, she felt sexy now with the swirls accentuating the roundedness of her chest, the curling tips of the print directing him to the cleavage in the middle and the tips of her breasts that pushed against the minimal padding sown into the garment. Harry followed each of those directions, a contented hum when he reached the line of her cleavage before he sunk his chin in and continued pressing kisses down the obscured valley.

(Y/N)'s breathing came in shuddering inhales, the exhales being nothing of a thought when all she wanted was to catch each molecule of Harry's scent that lingered between them. His kissing was enough to make her feel more scatterbrained than any raging director or uppity producer ever could. His hands on her waist traveled as a team up her sides, tracing the form of her ribcage before landing on the sides of her chest. His thumbs curled into the flimsy straps that kept the garment bound to her form.

"May I?" he mumbled, tips of his fingers tugging at the very curve of the cup before it transformed into the nylon straps.

His brows and eyes posed the question more than his mouth did, words muffled by her own skin.

Her response came in the form of a half formed nod, her consent being compounded by the tightening of her hands in his hair. In a moment, the cups of her bra were tugged down and the full of her breasts were revealed as the garment was trampled under Harry's grip.

He didn't waste any time before he flitted his mouth to follow the swells to the tip of her breast, tucking her nipple between his lips. Her deep inhale pushed her chest further into his face, his hand reaching to cradle her other breast in his palm.

His touch was gentle as he slathered his attention over her form, lips kissing and sucking before flitting to another patch of untended-to skin. By the time he was done, his kisses were commemorated in the form of spit-slicked kiss marks, pinched nipples glinting in the light. Harry continued his affection down the line of her stomach, his hands following before he was stopped at her belly button.

"H-Harry," (Y/N) breathed, her voice a lot more broken than she remembered. Her fingers were cramping in his hair, the grip unsurrendering.

Harry hummed against her skin, a slick sound acting as punctuation as he kissed at her tummy one more time before blinking his eyes open and gazing at her. (Y/N)'s hands fell from his hair, following the curve of his neck before landing on the broad of his shoulders.

The fabric felt offensive under her hands. "I want yours off, too," she whispered, fisting the shoulders of his top in her hands. If she could, she would have instead ripped it apart at the seams so he wouldn't have to part from her skin for even a second.

"Yeah?" he smiled, his voice a grumble against her skin. The green of his eyes was outcast to just a ring around his pupils though something tender lingered in his gaze.

"Uh-huh," she breathed, arching her back under the force of his hands as he slid his palms to the small of her back, "Please."

"What else do you want?" he asked, a teasing lilt to his town that she'd never heard before.

"You," she murmured, "Just you." Something about the fact she was saying it out loud allowed for something like a release to filter through her form. She'd never really said that she wanted him; liked him as more than a colleague, a friend she'd made on set. It was liberating in a way that pressed a weight on the center of her stomach and clenched her insides.

It was true, she did want him. She wanted him so bad, and she didn't care how much longer they had in this cramped trailer. She was going to have him.

With his grip on her waist and a satisfied, lazy grin on his lips, Harry tugged her harshly against his lap. Her hips ground against his own, though his lap had something a lot more substantial situated between his thighs. He directed her with his hands, dragging her over the lump of his cock in lazy strokes she hoped to feel more of with less clothing between.

With her breath caught in her throat, Harry took his opportunity to press his lips to her cheek, her jaw, the space just under her ear. "Y'want me? Want this?" Another teasing drag.

The weight in her stomach grow impossibly tight. She couldn't cum from just this, right?

"I-I do, Harry, please," she keened, "Let me touch you."

It seemed Harry had distracted himself in the process of playing with her, her original request of taking his shirt off becoming lost in the sea of rose-scented lust that was overtaking the small trailer. After a single smudged kiss pressed to the corner of her mouth, Harry pulled away reluctantly.

Much like she had done, Harry tucked his fingers into the neckline of his shirt and tossed it away as soon as the fabric cleared his head, joining hers in a Valentine colored pile—pink and red mashed together in the shape of a lopsided heart. Before he had a chance to paste himself back to her skin, (Y/N) stationed her hands on the set of his shoulders, eyes gleaming as she took in the shape of his body. Her hands mimicked her eyes as they trailed down his chest, blocky muscles defined by the tattoos inked onto the tanned skin. Just the very tips of his swallows were concealed with the help of the makeup team, leaving the rest to be completely and totally Harry.

The blocks of his muscles directed her further and further down, the laurel tattoos on his hips acting as a road map that only enticed her along. His arms reached out to encircle her waist though he didn't stop her expedition, only drawing her closer and subsequently over the hardness between his legs. A trail of hair sprouted in between his pectorals before sparsing out until the return of the down came just underneath his belly button. A thin line of dark, curling hair carried her down the line to the waist of his sweats before the hair and the rest of his skin disappeared.

"Having fun?" Harry teased, the curl of his lips heard before (Y/N) saw it.

"Definitely," she decided on the truth, her voice no louder than a whisper. A flick of her gaze through her lashes let her know Harry was much too busy cataloguing the expressions on her face to make much note of what exactly on his body had her gaze so entranced.

Harry seemed pleased by her words as he cut her off with a tug around the curve of her waist, sticking their bare chests together before he captured her lips with his. This round was nothing but sloppy, lazy kisses that came in quick succession. Harry peeled her lips apart with his own, his tongue peeking inside her mouth before disappearing once more. Before (Y/N) could catch up, he had pulled her away.

"Stand up," he said, another compromising demand.

Making room between his legs, (Y/N) helped her on her bambi-esque unsteady legs before he grabbed for the top of her leggings. The material quickly gave way under his fingers though Harry was slow with his movements until he looked up at her in that questioning way that let her know she had more than one choice in that moment.

Once a small nod was given, Harry stripped her of her leggings in a quick series of tugs that left her to step out of the puddle of fabric at her ankles and a white thong nestled against her modesty.

From his seated position, Harry helped her kick her pants to the Valentines scramble of clothing on the floor before he planted his lips against her skin. The entire waistline of her thong was imprinted with the shape of his lips as he dragged them over her skin. Once he was satisfied on that front, Harry slipped his hands to settle on her hips, palms covering the hem of her underwear as he descended upon her thighs. The curls of his hair tickled her skin, the slightest of touches felt through her panties as he took his time commemorating her skin.

At the feel of his teeth glimpsing her hip, a sharp touch that was quickly soothed by his tongue, (Y/N) let out a wobbly call of his name before planting her hands on his shoulders for balance.

Her eyes had closed without permission, (Y/N) only noticing when she felt Harry heave a sigh before his forehead was felt against her hip bone and his breath fanned out over her freshly kissed skin. Looking down, all she was granted with was a view of the swirling curls on the top of his head, messed up by her own fingers though the memory of the act was hazy.

Chancing a look into the mirror to the side of them, (Y/N) found herself stood on a pair of legs she didn't quite feel in that moment, hips cupped by a hair of hands she'd seen every day for the last month and a half though they looked alien pasted to her skin. Her chest heaved in breaths that were laborious, her bra askew on her form, the twisted straps and mangled cups mimicking that of her hair. But, the real draw was Harry's reflection.

His eyes were closed as he lent his forehead into the soft of her tummy, lashes curling outward as if they ached to touch her as much as the rest of him did. The straight line of his nose was warped as he whispered something to himself, raspberry lips wrapping around the silent words that (Y/N) only felt the ghost of against her skin. His shoulders were cradled in her own palms, fingertips making small dents in the muscle.

(Y/N) watched in the reflection as a decision seemed to be made in split second, Harry's hands abandoning her hips as they rounded her body and landed on the back of her thighs, thumbs pressing into the crease just under her ass.

"C'mere," he grumbled, tugging her with his new vantage points on her thighs.

She broke her gaze from the mirror, instead opting to look at the real thing. Harry's jaw looked especially sharp with the way he looked up at her before she dropped into his lap, the middle of her panties situated directly over the bulge in his sweats. His hands disappeared from her form though she was quickly distracted by his swollen mouth that was now sealed over her own.

"I wish I could take m'time with you, (Y/N)," he murmured into the kiss, a brush of his knuckles felt along her inner thigh, "And I will next time, darling, I promise. But, we don't have lots of time, do we? Gotta make y'cum before I go back out there."

The promise of a next time rattled her so much that she almost missed the petname that drawled from his lips, the first time she had heard him call her anything other than her own name.

(Y/N)'s back bowed as she curled into him, cutting off his kiss as she cushioned her head in the crook of his shoulder. His chest became her safe space as she keened into him. "I want you, anything you'll give me. Please, H."

It was when her lips brushed against his neck as she spoke that she realized just how close she was to the thrumming of his pulse. Pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot, she reveled in the fact his heart was racing just like her own. That knot she had blamed as the entity separating them now became a velvet bow that wrapped around her and tethered them together.

"Gotta do something for me then," he murmured, his own head dipping down and pressing a chaste kiss to her available shoulder, "Can y'reach my bag behind you?"

"Hm?" she hummed, confusion etching her brows together.

A huff of a laugh flared from his nostrils and over her exposed skin. When had it gotten so hot in here? Her skin was on fire and his breath chilled the sheen of sweat that covered her.

"I've got a condom in m'bag, I just need y'to grab it for me," Harry explained, a tint of amusement in his voice.

(Y/N) let out a small oh, at his words. Unfurling herself from his form was enough of a task that she didn't know if she was going to be able to reach away from him towards the duffle that laid behind her. But, if she had any hope of getting even closer to him, she was going to have to do it.

With Harry bracing the small of her back with his palms, she reached towards the army green duffle he lugged to set every day. Her fingers caught on the strap before she hauled it over to him. One arm of his wrapped around her waist, securing her to his lap while the other made quick work of unzipping the clasp.

"Do you always keep condoms in here?" (Y/N) asked, watching as he knew exactly which pocket to unzip before a square of foil was in hand.

A lopsided smile took him on his lips as he looked at her through his lashes. As quick as he had it, Harry tossed his duffle back to the floor, adding to the mess of his trailer. "Not until the day y'played with my hair and almost kissed me in here."

An astonished laugh made it way through (Y/N)'s throat. "And that was enough to make you think we were going to have sex?"

A half shrug was offered. "I think I was hoping more than anything. Worked out jus' fine in m'opinion."

She couldn't really argue with that.

Not much else was to be said when (Y/N) felt a brush of Harry's fingers between her thighs with the edge of the condom wrapper tickling the sensitive skin. When she glance between them, she found Harry had tugged the waist of his sweats down before pulling his cock out. Any kind of underwear line was missing. The whole time they had been reading lines and kissing and doing anything to get closer, he hadn't had a single thing on under his pants. The thought made (Y/N) sweat.

His hand wrapped around the thick of his shaft, the mushroom head glazed in a layer of precum that shone in the light. Harry groaned at the contact, a deep noise that both relaxed his shoulders while also winding the muscles in his forearms tight. (Y/N) did her best to guess what it was going to feel like when he sunk himself inside her, but she only managed to further soak her panties when she realized that just as they sat, the head of him reached just below her belly button.

As much as she could tell he was pandering for any kind of release of the pressure bunching his stomach, Harry didn't waste time as he rolled the condom over his length. Only a cursory stroke of his fist was granted to ensure the rubber fit him as needed.

"Hold your panties to the side for me, darling," Harry instructed, a compromise in his eyes.

No compromise was needed as (Y/N) readily plucked the soaked middle of her panties to the side, exposing her wetness to the warmth of Harry's gaze and beams of peaking sunlight. His arm on her back stiffened, a gentle tug that drew her closer. Something that sounded like a curse fell from his lips, but (Y/N) couldn't process much after she felt the first bump of his head against her clit.

"Oh, m—" (Y/N) choked, her exclamation ceasing when Harry's lips made contact with her own.

"Shhh, shhh," he hushed her, his hand an unrelenting weight that positioned her perfectly over his cock, "I know, but we've got to be quiet. Only have a little more time with you, don't I? Don't want anyone snooping around and cutting this short, right?"

"Right, right," she nodded, feeling something close to panic at the thought of another Meredith stripping of her this moment, "Sorry, I'll be quiet."

A pleased smile was felt against her lips. "Not too quiet. I need to know 'm doing good, still."

She could do that, she figured, she could definitely let him know how good she was feeling and that she was already planning the next time he offered. Harry smiled when she told him as much (minus the next time mention, she didn't want to get too ahead of herself though she was sure that idea ran away the send she let her winged heart out of its cage).

"Ready?" Harry prompted, his arm around her waist falling to land his hand on her hip in a steadying grip she hoped would leave bruises on her skin.

"Uh-huh," she breathed, nodding her head, wild tendrils of hair fluttering at the motion.

"Hang onto me, darling," he murmured, waiting until her arms were comfortably wrapped around his neck before he tugged her down with his gentle grip.

The head of his cock nudged at her opening, her slickness kissing at him and clinging to him. A shaky breath was exhaled through Harry's nose, enough to flare his nostrils and make (Y/N)'s thighs clench. She moved with him despite the fact the weight in her stomach wound her muscles even tighter the closer she drew to his form.

She was stretched around the girth of his head before she felt him clear her entrance with a tight pop, the ridges of her walls sucking him in the more of his length her fed to her. A breathless call of his name fell from (Y/N)'s lips, a shameless whine that she hoped let him know how good this was for her already.

"Relax, darling, relax," he coaxed through gritted teeth, his grip on her hips demanding. His now free hand came up to flutter around the small of her back, bracing her as she sunk lower and lower onto his prick. "Shit, (Y/N)."

Harry's head fell to her shoulder once he bottomed out, (Y/N) seated on his lap with nothing separating them. He sucked in deep breathes before they were exhaled against her skin, his curls tickling her neck.

She hadn't meant to, but (Y/N) felt her walls flutter around him the longer he sat unmoving, a silent call to please, do something. Another round of curses with her name tucked between was smeared over her skin before one of the hands stationed on her waist slipped lower and found the apex of her slit and the small pearl tucked between her folds.

"Bounce on me, darling," Harry murmured to her, "I'll help, jus'—jus' need to see y'do it for me first."

The first brush of his thumb over her clit jolted (Y/N) enough to kickstart her rhythm. With her back arched and panties to the side, she used the tense of her muscles to her advantage and rocked herself over his cock. Tentative lifts of her hips were integrated once she became used to his size, used to the nudging deep in her stomach, pulling him a little more than halfway out before she dropped back down and swallowed him whole. Every time she sunk down, Harry made an accompanying brush of his thumb over her clit, a reward for being so strong for him and riding him like he asked.

His head nudged far at the back of her walls, the veins brushing her ridges as if to emulate the grazing of his thumb on her clit, pushing for more and more of her breathless, quiet moans to spill from her mouth. The pulsing of his cock could be felt inside her, echoing against her snugness in its own tease. An area she had only ever reached in her own lonely sessions in bed, was taken hostage of with the help of his thickness brushing her walls in unrelenting runs. Each bounce of her hips allowed another graze of his tip against her g-spot, shudders wracking through her body every time.

They played this game a while longer with Harry pressing kisses to her chest and neck before he paused to look at where he was entering her. (Y/N) kept her promise and tried to stay quiet, but every once in a while, a call of his name was loud enough to warrant a shushing from her lover before he pulled her in for a silencing kiss.

"K-Keep going, darling," he told her, his grip on her hip intensifying just like the weight in her stomach, "I'll help in a second, jus'—jus' want y'to get close like me first."

It was then that (Y/N) chanced a look at him, the mention of him being close, enough to wrench her eyes open from where she had her head thrown back towards the ceiling. As promised, he showed all the signs that she felt in her own body. His abdomen was pulled taut, muscles straining in his arms with tendons and veins making appearances in the same moment she felt his fingers flex around her form. His face was flush with a red blush, a dewy sheen over his cheeks. Hair and makeup was going to have a fit when they saw him after this.

Underneath her, Harry's hips jerked and thrusted upwards. "Told y'to keep going, darling," Harry grumbled, throwing his head back to loll over the couch cushions, "Don't stop now. Can feel y'getting there, right?"

In her haze of examining him, (Y/N) hadn't realized she stopped her bouncing to only give him rolls of her hips. Resuming her pace, she felt the assistance of his hand on her waist lifting her before the snap of his hips meet her halfway. All the while, tight circles were traced onto her clit in strokes that made her thoughts make less and less sense.

"S-Sorry," she stuttered, "You're just so-so—I couldn't stop look-king at you. Don't want to forget this."

"Not gonna give you a chance to, darling," Harry murmured, rushing forward and planting kisses along the line of her jaw, "Gonna do this again and again, y'won't have enough time to forget. Next time, 'm gonna have hours to make y'feel good. Gonna—fuck—Gonna have y'in a real bed yelling m'name as loud as y'want. Never gonna forget me."

(Y/N)'s hands on his shoulders didn't do much in the way of steadying her anymore now that she had his promises lingering in her head. She wasn't going to last much longer; not with the thrusting of his hips, the touching to her clit, and the words murmured into her skin. She wasn't going to be able to fend off the weight in her tummy anymore.

"H-Harry, Harry," she stuttered, his name making more sense than anything else in her head, "I'm gonna cum—oh my god."

"Give me one more kiss, darling, c'mere. That's all I need," he shuddered, his hips lagging for just a second before picking up the pace, "then I want you to cum with me."

Her hands on his shoulders made quick work of landing on his cheeks, jaw cupped in her palms. Tipping her chin, (Y/N) pressed her lips to his in the dance they now had down like second-nature. Though it was her turn to get a taste, no longer following after him in a chase before he cut the game short. The bounce of her hips and the snaps of his own under her didn't lend to the most stable kiss in history, but (Y/N) still managed to slip her tongue past the defenses of his mouth the touch over his own. He played with her then, responding to her call with gusto.

Harry's hand on her hip tightened, his thumb on her clit now working at a lightning pace. "Cum with me, darling. Need to feel y'cum around me; give me what I want."

This demand didn't sound as comprising as the ones in the past. He wanted her to stick to her word and do anything he wanted right now, and he wanted her to cum.

So, she did.

(Y/N) felt her form crumble under the force of the unraveling weight in her stomach. Her body felt wound unbelievably tight despite the fact she'd never felt more relaxed than in that moment, ease lapping over her in waves that were Harry scented. His touch was the only thing that kept her grounded; his hips between her thighs, his cock snug inside her, unrelenting hand on her hip and thumb on her clit, all the while his mouth was sealed to hers. Her body clenched and released around him, drawing him deeper and deeper despite the fact there wasn't much else Harry could go.

But, that seemed to be enough to set Harry's own release off. Warmth filled her through the condom as his form shook under her. It was him who cut off the kiss though he only managed to get far enough away to tuck his face into her neck and smatter soft kisses to the skin in between coos of her name and whispers of curses. All the while he held her.

Once the squeeze in her lungs lessened and (Y/N) realized just how much like jelly her legs felt, she curled into his form. Aftershocks came in the form of half shudders down her spine and teasing clenches of her pussy around his softening cock.

"Harry?"

"Give me a minute." His voice was a breathless grumble, the baritone vibrating her skin more than she heard him.

She unfurled in that moment she gave him, her arched back relaxing before she slumped into Harry. Her arms slipped down his form until she hit his middle. She wrapped him in a hug, their bare skin pressed against one another. Harry mimicked her movements, abandoning her hip and  between her legs to loop his arms around her waist and keep her close to his chest.

God, she hoped they really got a next time. If not for the mind-hazing, vision-robbing, lung-squeezing orgasm, then for this.

Out of nowhere, (Y/N) felt a huff of a laugh exhaled into her neck. Then another. And another. Before long, Harry was laughing with a smile pressed into her skin, sounding just as exhausted as she felt.

"I can't believe we did that. And before anyone's had to come looking for us," he mumbled, the tip of his nose wiggling against the curve of her throat.

Had everything that transpired really taken less than forty-five minutes to get her here?

The thought made (Y/N) laugh, too.

"Or, everyone saw your trailer shaking and though they'd come back another time," (Y/N) offered, drawing back just enough to indulge herself in the sight of his dimples and soft-lipped smile, "If that's the case, then we're fucked."

"Yeah, we are fucked." Harry laughed even harder, dropping his head to her bare shoulder.

With the help of his huffed laughter, a set of goosebumps broke out across (Y/N)'s skin, a tickling shudder working down her spine.

After pressing a delicate kiss to her skin, Harry reached blindly behind him and grabbed for the blanket hanging off the back of his sofa. The same one that had been draped over him the day she played with his hair and Harry decided there could be something more between them.

"You're cold," he mumbled as he wrapped the cover around he two of them, (Y/N) still situated on his lap and his cock soft inside her.

"Thank you," she said, snuggling deeper into his hold as they shared the warmth of the blanket.

(Y/N) closed her eyes as she finally relaxed into him, the panic of lust no longer taking from the fact that holding and being held by him was enough. Her hand that had been splayed over his back rounded to his front where (Y/N) stroked over his heated skin in what she hoped was soothing runs over his skin.

She only made a few passes before her hand was captured in Harry's. He brought it to his mouth, a tender kiss pressed to the knuckles before he brushed them over his cheek.

"Would y'want to go to dinner with me Friday?"

She hoped he could feel the smile stretching across her face as her cheek pressed into his chest. "I'd love to."

That velvet bow that bound them together tightened in that moment, the ribbon thicker than even the real blanket draped over their forms. (Y/N) didn't know how much time they had left before someone would come looking for them, but she was happy this was how she was going to spend those last minutes with Harry before venturing into the real world.

"I really lucked out with you, didn't I?"

His voice wasn't much more than a whisper but (Y/N) heard it like a shout.

As she sunk into his hold, (Y/N) didn't know which was more gratifying: the affectionate words that now dripped over her in a new context, or the knowledge that there was forever going to be a movie out there crediting her as his assistant?

He was right in that she'd never forget him.

—————