Written for the Pimp my Bunnies Contest on Fanfiction.net for the prompt: "I want to see Jasper use his power to torture Edward in a public place, sexually, of course. Classroom, crowded night club, grocery store, whatever you fancy. I want to see Edward positively desperate and writhing without Jasper even touching him. Bonus points for a public, slightly humiliating orgasm, even more so if Edward gets some payback."

As far as Edward was concerned it could just take for-damn-ever if it wanted because that’s how long he could go without taking to the Bastard.

Show of hands, who didn’t read it as a porn prompt? anyone? anyone? bueller? Contains sort-of-public sex, oral and penetrative sex, some slurry retention.

Shawn goes undercover at a BDSM club and runs into Lassiter. He assumes Lassiter is undercover as well. He's wrong.

Honestly, Pat isn't sure how they got here. He's had a lot to drink, and they've been engaged in about four hours of what was Mario Kart war but turned into an epic Smash Bros. tournament, and somewhere along the way bets that required badges of honour were made, except instead of badges of honour somebody—okay, probably Pat—decided they were to be badges of shame, and somebody—again, probably Pat—decided the winner got to mark the loser so everybody could heckle him until it faded.

Sometimes, announcing something can be done without any words being spoken.

It takes Stiles four days to notice something’s wrong. Well it’s not like jerking off three times a day is unusual behavior. The third day, he has his usual good morning session, comes straight home from Lacrosse and jerks off without even taking off his jeans because it’s laundry day tomorrow and it’s not like he’s got standards. And everyone jerks off last thing at night; it’s like a glass of warm milk for your dick. Stiles has been hit by a jerking off curse. He might not make it through May unscathed.

It starts, like so many things do, with a dare.

Dorian is feeling frisky in the crowded Herald's Rest.

The Antivan language and sex on the war table: just two of Bull's varied interests.

Dorian can not believe this is happening. When he’d come down to join the Chargers for their evening drinks this time, rather than taking his usual seat next to Krem, his lover had grabbed him about the waist and pulled him into his lap. Dorian had flushed red and the Chargers had broken into a chorus of laughs and hoots. “This okay?” Krem murmurs the question into his ear when the hollering dies down. Dorian is still blushing but he nods. It’s not the first time they’ve done something like this, though he still can’t quite believe Krem wants this, pressed close to him in public, obviously affectionate, despite the watchful eyes of the tavern patrons.

"I got you this." He sets a tiny box on the table between you and nudges it in your direction with psionics. You stare at it. It's the right size to hold a human-style commitment-designation ring, which you sometimes think would be a cool thing to have but as far as you know he's never been interested in. "For those times when I'm being a jackass and you need to snap me out of it." A little smile, a hint of the smug asslord creeping back in around the edges of the apologetic matesprit. "Or when you just want a shortcut to getting my attention."

CRONUS: vwhat i'm trying to say here is that i vwant to engage in a mutual stimulation of erogenous zones vwith you, perhaps in a starbucks hygiene block, and then make a wvery humble request about possibly getting you to hop on the bandvwagon for my nevwest project. CRONUS: but i really can't emphasize enough the part vwhere i blovw you to obliwvion vwithout any expectation that this vwill affect your decision vwith respect to my musical endeawvors, because that's just the kind of selfless guy i am. CRONUS: vwhat do you say?

Sollux has been looking at you at least once every five minutes for the past hour, and you can tell by the way he's worrying his lip, hardly listening as John bullshits him about some shitty tech job he did last week, that he's just not going to last the night. You bet the fact that the buzzing between his legs is at a different tempo than the one playing over the speakers is really wearing thin on his patience.

"You kissed me in front of thousands of people." Viktor laughs, masking behind a gasp when Yuuri's grip on his hair turns deathly. "I did. I was so proud of you. You did so good." He pauses, relishing in the nervous tremble of Yuuri's shoulders. "We're in a bathroom, you know. You want everyone to see what you did to me?" "Maybe."

"Gokudera turns to Yamamoto, fixes him with the best glare he can manage. 'You didn’t bring a sleeping bag, did you?'" Yamamoto brings himself but not a sleeping bag to Shimon Island, and Gokudera is self-sacrificing.

Eddie briefly recalls some tentacle porn he’d watched just before Venom became a part of him. The copious vines holding her up and entering her every opening simultaneously. Fluids, from her or the monster who could tell, leaking from her mouth and pussy and ass. Oh, Eddie. Venom’s thought shook him, definitely not wanting to take their tongue out his mouth, How’d you keep this from us? Eddie had to be completely honest… he had absolutely no idea how he did either. ~ That good good tentacle fuckin' that Eddie so desperately wanted.

Noctis Lucis Caelum is evil, and he loves it when Prompto's body is a slave to his music.

Entering the games is a bargain.

The harvest god Kogane requires an offering of seed—and not the kind that you plant. Shiro is more than willing to provide.

The cascade of events that lead to this moment—Nie Mingjue in a mesh crop top and billowing pants and a snake shaped chain that connects the neck bit to his trousers, good god—started, like all chaotic things in Mingjue’s life do, with Huaisang. With Huaisang’s new boyfriend, to be precise. And Huaisang’s boyfriend’s brother’s boyfriend’s brother. Who just happened to be Mingjue’s high school almost-sweetheart. - in which Huaisang has an art show, Xichen wears a suit, and there are. Shenanigans.

Lan Wangji is going to die. Lan Wangji is going to die, and it isn’t even a hyperbole; she is entirely ready to collapse in her seat like a marionette with its strings cut off. The vibrator inside her pulses, and Lan Wangji can barely stop herself from lurching forward and letting out a loud groan. She resists a glance at the row of seats behind her; she knows that Wei Ying is there, watching, and she isn’t entirely sure she isn’t going to come at the sight of Wei Ying’s lazy little smirk. Truly—the things Wei Ying has made her do—shameless. (or; Lan Wangji wears a vibrator to class at the behest of her fuckbuddy Wei Ying, and it ends up a lot hotter and more emotional for both of them.)

“I still - I don't-” Shiro feels like his brain is broken. “I still don't get why this is necessary.” “All aspects of physical stamina are tested during the trials,” Kolivan replies, standing next to him as both of them watch the screen. “Awakening the blade is only the first step. Your friend is an omega, and all omegas currently serving with the Blades have lasted an hour or more on this device. It is protocol.”

The ancient people of the Zeffo contact the Jedi in a cry for help,they need force users who can connect to the living force,who can save something dear to them. But the price of life is itself something dear,and one Obi-Wan is not sure they can pay.

To draw out a likely blackmailer, Sui Zhou and Tang Fan have to manufacture some blackmail material.

If he hadn't seen a vibrating butt plug on top of the stack of "absolutely mission critical clothes" Wang Zhi had left for him, Sui Zhou would have dismissed the faint buzzing as a phone vibrating, and Tang Fan's look of shock as a surprising bite of food. It's not. He is definitely wearing a vibrating butt plug and it definitely just turned on. Sui Zhou is not sure what to do with this information.

“Really? Right now?” Wei Ying whispered, and Lan Zhan could only nod, a reckless pulse throbbing in his veins.

Song Lan likes Xue Yang, obviously. Song Lan likes folding laundry too. Xue Yang is not sure where he ranks in Song Lan’s likes, along the scale from folding laundry to Xiao Xingchen.

After a dangerous fight, Tamaki needs a... special kind of stress relief. Kirishima is more than happy to help his Senpai out, even when he has an unusual request.

Of all the potential downsides to anchoring his mind to his clone commander’s, Tae hadn’t ever considered this one.

“There’s still time to back out, you know,” Wei Ying says, quiet enough that even the attendants waiting at the corners of their table won’t hear. Lan Wangji pauses in the middle of reaching for the sash on Wei Ying’s—on his husband’s—outer robes. A pit opens in his stomach. His hand falls to his lap, and he lifts his eyes to meet Wei Ying’s. “Is that what you want?” --- The components of the marriage ceremony are easy in theory. The handfasting, the bows, the feast... and the Taking.

“Don’t worry A-Cheng, this is the kind of party that expects everyone to be using fake names. It would be horribly against the rules for anyone to acknowledge who you actually are, even if they do recognise either of you. Trust me, there will be far more interesting things going on than watching Chifeng-zun and Sandu Shengshou tonight. All you have to do is play it cool, make it seem like you’re there for the same reasons as everyone else, and nobody will meet your eyes. Piece of cake!” Huaisang sounds positively chipper, which means Jiang Cheng is almost certainly going to have the worst night of his life tonight. Or: Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue steal a sex party

When Loki and Thor are caught attempting to steal from a Temple they discover that the hushed stories about the the cruelty and perversion of its punishments are all true. But when Loki is involved, things are never quite as they seem.

The Ghost Valley and Prince Jin's forces have been at war for a while now; but there was nothing to suggest the Valley was so close to infiltrating the palace. Nothing, until they were flooding the grounds and taking captives. Nothing, until the Ghost Valley Guzhu himself laid eyes on Zhou Zishu and deemed him a worthy prize. *Don't be a sore loser, Wangye. To the victor go the spoils.*

It was Sid’s dirty little sneaky plug, buzzing merrily away inside his asshole, and they could hear it.

It looks like a seizure, Stiles falling down and twitching and writhing on the floor. His limbs are shaking, his body trembling, but afterwards Stiles always tells him it isn't a seizure. Derek isn't so sure. If it's not a seizure, what could it be?

Sid growls. He can’t help it. It’s wrong. Malkin is whimpering and crying and struggling against his restraints. His scent is all fear and chemicals and something deeper, something dark and oppressing. Sid thinks it’s anger but it’s too bitter to try and get a proper read on.

Navin is marrying Jaya today, and he’s overjoyed beyond belief, he truly is. Only, in his parts of the world, a marriage is a public affair. Very, very public. Goddess, help him.

After scoring his first game winner, Tyler takes care of all the Bruins, and by take care we mean blow jobs. Afterwards, Marchy takes care of him and his poor come-swollen belly.

since @doesntmaatta mentioned this to me: ‘Honestly I’m thinking about PK grinning at him at some team gathering and telling him, “I’ll give you a $100 if I can fuck your mouth,” and Gally grins, shrugging, “You’re on.” That’s when PK adds, “Right now, here.”’ and i am so easy for anything that shows gally b as a money-grubbing git who’ll do anything for more money– tagging for exhibitionism, ridiculous sex for money

When they drain the rink at the end of the season, he tells someone he's folding to superstition and he pays them for several buckets of the water and buys a few of those ice filled pucks they sell at the store. He purchases some Kraken shaped water bottles and fills them with his water. He's not sure why he's going this far, this fucked up, but he also doesn’t really care. He played well and the team actually did okay for their first season while trying to get their legs under them as a unit.

Quiet, easygoing Yagi who prods his fingertips together when he’s nervous and afraid of saying the wrong thing. He has a cheerful little bit of praise for every student, and makes a point of complimenting his coworkers; Nedzu’s lustrous fur, Nemuri’s manicured nails, Hizashi’s latest show. He’s the gentle structural support of All Might left bare, who he knows and has started to begrudgingly respect as a teacher. He's the last person Shouta would expect to see here. But fuck, he's hot.

“Now you get to help me stall them since you almost blew my cover.” Keith shifts in his lap and Shiro’s fingers tighten on his hips. “We gotta act like we’re into public shit. They’re gonna leave otherwise.” Shiro freezes where he’d been mouthing at Keith’s bare shoulder. “I’m serious, Shiro, don’t blow this fucking mission,” Keith hisses. “We’ll deal with this later.”

Hizashi treats it like a stim toy; absently running his fingers up and down the lips, circling the clit and tapping over the entrance when he starts to feel wetness against his fingertips. He pauses, lifting it to his face and, sure enough, the once dry pink silicone is glistening with slick.

“Poor thing,” he croons, patting over his pussy like he’s consoling it, not him and fuck that shouldn’t make him drip; the wet sound echoing in his ears. “Just want attention, don’t ya? Dumb fucks here don’t know what they’ve been given. Should be fuckin’ lined up to put you in your place.” Johnny’s skin heats and he can only hope it doesn’t spread far enough down for him to see as he shifts restlessly on the bed. “Big talk fer a man behind a wall,” he spits. “Harsh words for a slag flashin’ ‘is cunt,” he shoots back.

Tim gets off on getting off in public, and Jay happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. …Or, actually, maybe it's exactly the right place at the right time.