in which...

...harry takes things out of the bedroom

request: Idk if you're still taking requests but I would love a blurb about Harry making yn cum in public omg like under the table at a family dinner or something

Y/N is playing a dangerous game she isn't so sure she can win.

It's not really out of her character, teasing is something she's always had a particular liking towards, especially if Harry is the one she's teasing. She knows he enjoys the mischief in her eyes, can tell she's up to no good as soon as he takes one look in them, it always keeps him on his toes.

What he doesn't like (or at least pretends that he doesn't) is being teased when he's around other people and can't put Y/N back in her place when he's had just about enough of the playful touches and filthy whispers in his ear.

It started when they were in the middle of getting ready, bending over with a clear purpose when she was sliding her dress on, an arch evident in her back, eyes meeting his in the mirror, making him approach from behind with curiosity. When his hands ran down her sides, from her waist to her hips, down until they were shy of squeezing her bum in his palms, she turned her head back and casually asked.

"Zip me up?"

In the hallway as she was getting her shoes on, sitting down and looking up at Harry with pleading eyes, she asked if he could help her with the strap on her heels because her dress was too tight for her to be able to bend down properly. He kneeled in front of her, always willing to do whatever it is she's asking for. But her hands were oh so gentle as they ran through his hair, nails scratching over his scalp, because she knows, she just knows that sends a tremor down his spine no matter where they are.

She uncrosses her legs slowly as she switches feet, slow enough to let him get a peek at her underwear, lacy and sheer, would be so easy for him to slip to the side, or even rip in half if he's feeling particularly impatient. His eyes are dark as they focus on her face, sending her a look that says 'I know what you're doing and it's not going to end well'. All she does is smile in return.

The car ride is eventful, consists of purposeful touches of her fingers down his thigh, sometimes trailing higher than would be deemed safe, making him grit his teeth.

"Not when I'm driving, love." To which he's met with faked innocence.

"I'm not doing anything."

By the time they arrive her hand is pretty much mere inches away from his crotch, palm hot and heavy over his skin, making him shift in his seat. Before he even gets to stop the engine though, she's already out of the car, waiting for him to catch up. So cruel.

Which brings them to right now, at her parents' dinner party in some fancy restaurant downtown, surrounded by people he doesn't particularly recognize, sipping on a glass of bubbly. And he's positively seething.

"You know this is not going to end well for you, right?" He grits harshly, fingers tightening their hold around his glass.

She just smiles, watching as her parents reappear from leaving their coats by the front desk, nodding her head. "But I think it will."

Harry hums, giving a curt nod himself, before turning to look at her.

"How about I take you under the table right now with my fingers?"

Her smile visibly falters at that, turning her head quickly, "Harry, my parents are coming."

He just shrugs and looks ahead as he leaves his glass on the table, hand coming to rest on her inner thigh.

"Guess you'll have to be quiet then."

It's about halfway through dinner when it gets to be too much, each press off his fingers too cruel, with a clear purpose, that of making her feel on the edge, but not quite letting her reach it, breaking her down one stroke at a time.

His fingertips were cold as ice at first from holding his champagne for so long, goosebumps spreading all the way down her body, a quiet gasp escaping her lips. She's been trying her best to act composed, well put together, not as if she's on the edge, slowly getting fingered underneath the table, the coil in her tummy aching to be released.

But Harry's having a blast. Not usually one to take these things out of their bedroom, he comes to find the sheer sense of power and control he holds over her right now to be satisfying. He knows he gets to decide whether she gets to come or not and he doesn't feel all too kind tonight.

"Please." She whispers, covering her mouth with her hand, faking a cough.

"Please what?"

"Please let me..." She exhales, the soft tune of the piano around them hiding the filthy squelch happening beneath the table, right under everyone's eyes.

"Hmm, you'll have to be a little more specific." He smiles sweetly at her, giving his girlfriend a peck on the nose, nothing that could possibly cause suspicion.

"Fucking..." She exhales a harsh breath, fingers grasping tightly onto his suit jacket, "come. Let me come, please."

He hums in fake interest, "That's not a very nice way of asking. But I'll make you a deal." His fingers curl upwards, thumb rubbing in circles over her clit, making her eyes squeeze shut. "Promise to behave for the rest of the night?"

"Promise, I promise..." She nods her head, covering her face with one of her hands, breath steadily increasing.

All Harry does is speed up, the sound of her wetness almost audible, but only if someone were to focus on it. It's enough for him to become painfully hard in his slacks. He knows she's close by the way her walls tighten around him, has been like that for quite a while now.

"Come for me then." And she does.

Her knee unexpectedly bangs into the table, a yelp muffled beneath her palm, before she closes her eyes so no one else can see them rolling in the back of her head in pure pleasure. Her parents concerned faces are enough to almost send Harry into a full blown laughing fit.

"Don't think she's feeling all too well." Harry responds to her mom's worried question. "Come on, love, I'll take you to the bathroom."

Helping her up on shaky legs, she clings onto his side as they cross the room over to the bathroom, locking a stall behind them. Harry turns around and pinches her chin between two fingers, eyes narrowed on her still blissed out expression.

"Now," he unzips his trousers, "go on and put that pretty mouth to good use for me, will you?"