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    Summary

    This piece was originally written for Patreon and split into to separate posts.
    She shifted her body again, pushing his other leg open and seating herself between them. Her arms danced from side to side for a moment while she tried to figure out the best position to get at the spot she was working on. Finally she settled herself, pushed his briefs up a couple of inches to give herself more room, and went back to work.

    “Yeah well Harry Styles didn’t want to risk more of his personal information being made public,” he grumbled.

    Y/N chose to ignore that comment, grasping onto whatever shreds of professionality she had left to her name. But that didn’t last long, when upon pushing the gun down a little harder in order to fill in one of the eyes, Harry let out a moan from above her.

    A moan. A fucking moan. Harry fucking Styles let out a fucking moan while she was working on his thigh piece.

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