Prompt Post 1

[makkachin]

Notes: This post might contain adult contents. Proceed at your own discretion.

This is the place where you can request fics and fill requests

Rules (May change later):
1.Anon not necessary but recommended.
2.Put pairings/kinks/tropes/warnings on the comment title.
3.Any kink is fine. Fic or art fills is fine. Multi fills is encouraged.
4.If you see anything you don't like scroll down or use Dw blocker.
5.For the ease of prompt finding and email tracking please use full names from the official site in the comment title, except please write Yuri Katsuki as Yuuri Katsuki to differentiate him from Yuri Plisetsky.
6.For email subscription you must have dreamwidth account, then click on the bell icon above this post and choose 'email me when someone comments on this post'

<sub>Names:
-Yuuri Katsuki
-Victor Nikiforov
-Yuri Plisetsky
-Seung Gil Lee
-Emil Nekola
-Otabek Altin
-Georgi Popovich
-Cristophe Giacometti
-Guang-Hong Il
-Jean-Jacques Leroy
-Phichit Chulanont
-Michele Crispino
-Kenjiro Minami
-Leo De La Iglesia

-Toshiya Katsuki, Hiroko Katsuki, Mari Katsuki
-Takeshi Nishigori, Yuko Nishigori, Axel / Lutz / Loop Nishigori
-Minako
-Hisashi Morooka
-Yakov Feltsman
-Celestino Cialdini
-Mira Babicheva
-Lilia Baranovskaya
-Sara Crispino
-Kolya Plisetsky</sub>


Ao3 collection:
https://archiveofourown.org/collections/YuriOnIceKink

Comments

Katsuki Yuuri/Viktor Nikiforov, anonymous online friends

[(Anonymous)]

Yuuri and Viktor have another common interest besides skating - a TV show, videogame, book, film... anything. They're both active in the same fandom and become friends there long before they meet irl during the Grand Prix, and continue interacting online after Viktor becomes Yuuri's coach.

Give me the boys bonding both offline and online! Secret identity shenanigans! Online crush vs real life crush dilemmas! Dramatic reveals!

No particular requests other than a happy ending.

Yuri Plisetsky/Victor Nikiforov - hair braiding

[(Anonymous)]

Victor shows affection by fussing over someone's hair (or fur, in Makkachin's case). At some point, he began fussing over Yuri's hair too.

Re: Yuri Plisetsky/Victor Nikiforov - hair braiding FILL

[(Anonymous)]

"Yura," Victor said in his most disapproving voice, "your hair is a mess."

Yuri scowled back at him. It wasn't his fault; Lilia was sick with the flu, so he'd been forced to try doing his hair himself this competition. He could braid, but the fancy stuff she'd decided on had turned out to be nigh-impossible to do by himself – he couldn't see what he was doing, and he had no idea how he was supposed to move his fingers. He'd given up halfway through when he'd hit a point that looked okay. "It's fine."

"It's not. Come here, I'll fix it for you." Victor sat on the nearest bench and patted the wood beside him. Yuri rolled his eyes, but went to join him. They had time; Victor was here for Yuuri's sake, not his own, and there were still several groups to go before either of them would get to skate. "Where's your comb and brush?"

"In my bag."

Victor went to get them for him before he started pulling apart Yuri's own attempt at hairstyling. He pulled the elastics off and onto his wrist, and carefully undid the braids. Yuri tried not to stiffen when Victor began to comb his hair out, using just the right amount of pressure: not so much that it hurt, but not so little that he didn't catch every layer of hair. His mother had never managed the right balance when he was a kid.

It was nice, actually. But Yuri knew Victor had a thing about hair.

Yuri hadn't picked up on it for a long while. It was only natural for Victor to fuss over his dog's fur, after all, always running his fingers through her curls and smoothing them down, making sure she looked neat. Yuri was the same with Potya; he liked taking a few minutes at the end of the day to comb her long fur, making sure there were no knots in it, smiling at her when she pushed her head into the bristles.

And it was one thing for Victor to help Georgi that one time with that wild hairstyle he'd wanted to try for his program. And for Victor to comb Yuuri's hair back for him before Onsen on Ice and, presumably, other competitions. Victor was all image and aesthetics. It made sense.

Yuri had only started to really clue in when he'd caught Victor smoothing down Yakov's frazzled hair, or what was left of it, when he'd fallen asleep at an airport during a long layover. Victor had been smiling, a soft little thing, and his touch had been so gentle that Yakov hadn't woken up at all.

And now it was Yuri's hair that he was brushing smooth. Because he liked it when things looked pretty. Definitely.

He braided quickly, without tugging too hard on the strands, and Yuri went to look at it in the wall mirror as soon as he was finished. It looked just as though it was Lilia who had done it. No frizzies or anything. Yuri couldn't help but stare a little.

"Why are you so surprised?" Victor asked, smiling from behind his shoulder. "Lilia taught me when I still had long hair." He reached out to grasp the end of one of the longer, loose strands between his fingertips. "Yours is really nice to work with. And it suits you."

He pulled away. "It's not like I had a choice about it." He preferred it when people complimented him on things he did. He'd done fuck-all to have blond hair or big green eyes; he'd poured his soul into those raised-arm jumps (third position, Yura, you are not a helicopter) and the layback spin Victor had insisted he try for this program (hold that first position a beat longer, you're not getting the full rotations in).

"Not just the color," Victor said. "It's nice that you're growing it out. You should let me play with it sometime."

"Yeah, right," Yuri said, but he still dragged Victor away from Yuuri a couple of days later to do his hair for his free skate. This style was less complicated, but Yuri didn't feel like breaking his wrists trying to get it put together. And it was supposed to have a few little jewels glinting from the braids, red to match with his costume and contrast against his hair, which would be easier for someone else to work in.

Victor braided patiently, taking the time to smooth the strands down as he crossed them over, and undoing one portion when he didn't quite get all the hairs off of Yuri's neck. Yuri watched him in the mirror. It was always something to be the center of Victor's attention. Irritating, sometimes. Yuri couldn't help himself from wanting it anyway.

Finally, everything was in place. Victor paused when he was done, looking at Yuri's hair. Admiring his handiwork, Yuri guessed.

"Victor," called Yuuri, but whatever it was that he had to say died as he approached them. Now he was staring at Yuri, too. He sat up a little straighter. "Wow," Yuuri said after a long moment. "That looks really good, Yuri."

"Doesn't it?" Yuri couldn't see, but he could hear Victor beaming. "See, having it up like this makes his neck look so long, especially with this—"

He drew a hand down the back of Yuri's neck. Down to where his costume was low-cut in the back. Yuri wanted to flinch away from the touch – why did that feel like that, the light brush of his fingers – but there was nowhere to flinch to. He was sitting on the edge of the bench already.

Victor's hand lingered. Yuri didn't hear what he was saying over the sudden thump of his heartbeat in his ears. He swallowed against the sound; Victor didn't move his hand.

Until he did. So he could get up, and go deal with whatever it was that Yuuri needed. They both left with smiles for him; he managed a tiny wave back. He could still feel the heat of Victor's touch on his neck.

For his exhibition, Yuri had intended to just leave his hair down. It would be tangled afterward – he was now well-aware of how much time Victor must have spent with a comb as a teenager – but it would look awesome, so it was worth it.

Victor showed up anyway. Yuri didn't notice him at first – he was still sulking over his bronze (losing gold to Yuuri was a pain but at least understandable; losing silver to JJ was just infuriating) and didn't look up until Victor tugged on the end of his hair. "I'm not doing anything to it," he said.

"I thought it might be nice to put a few little braids in," Victor said. "You know. Like the vikings in movies. Don't you think that would look good with your music?"

Yuri thought about it, imagining a couple of tiny braids lining the loose strands. "Yeah, okay," he said. Not all of Victor's ideas were dumb.

Victor had brought the brush and the elastics this time. He chattered away as he braided. "You've got too much eyeliner on. Are you taking makeup lessons from Georgi?"

He had, a couple of times. "It looks great, thanks." He liked the heavy effect of all the black, the sharp edges he'd managed to achieve after a long struggle with the brush.

Victor clicked his tongue. Yuri scoffed at him. They fell into silence as Victor finished the last braid. "There," he said. "How does it look?"

Yuri turned his head back and forth in the mirror. It mostly looked fine, and the effect was as cool as he'd hoped it would be. Maybe it would help keep the strands out of his eyes a little bit, too. "That one's kind of weird."

"Mm. This one? Yeah, it's too far back. Hold on." He took the elastic off, careful not to take any of Yuri's hair with it, and undid the braid. Yuri watched their reflection as he started the new one, how his hands turned and turned in the familiar over-over-over pattern. "That's better," he said when he was done.

Victor didn't move away as Yuri inspected himself in the mirror. In fact, when they stood to return to waiting with everyone else, he draped an arm over the top of his shoulder. It didn't matter that there were two layers of fabric, jacket and costume, between his skin and Yuri's; Yuri could feel his body heat anyway. Yuri tried to shrug his hand off, but Victor just moved it further down. He insisted on smoothing Yuri's hair down one last time, too, right before he skated out.

Yuri didn't take the braids out until the next morning. No matter how much he combed his hair, the crimped waves stayed.

Yuuri KatsukixVictor Nikiforov+Yuri Plisetsky, omegaverse, masturbation

[(Anonymous)]

For whatever major reason, Alpha!Yurio has to stay a couple of days at Victor's and Yuuri's apartment. Unfortunately, it coincides with one of Victor's heats...

Man, are the walls of the guest room (that is right by Victor's and Yuuri's room) so, so thin...

Since poor Yurio can hear every single thing happening in their room, he ends up masturbating furiously at the sound of Yuuri claiming his omega, at the sounds of Victor mewling and moaning lewdly as Yuuri fucks and knots him through and through, while saying the dirtiest things to him.

And Yurio has weird and super specific fantasies about Victor while jerking off. Imagine stupid stuff like fucking him in the middle of the ice rink in the middle of the training just to show to everybody who he belongs to, or making him wear a collar with his name; of Victor displaying the mark bite of his claim and giving interviews about how much "Yuri Plisetsky is so virile and strong! I'm completely and utterly his!"; of going back to "their" home and finding Victor waiting for him using just an apron or a maid outfit, etc... go wild with whatever silly sexual fantasy Yurio has. The more absurd, elaborated and cliché, the better.

Extra points: if he also fantasies about dominating and fucking Yuuri too, showing him who is the Manliest Alpha™ in his own house or something.

Yuri Plisetsky/Viktor Nikiforov noncon

[(Anonymous)]

I want young Yuri (however old the author sees fit) discovering his sexuality with Viktor... while Viktor is unconscious. Viktor is in his twenties and famous and so whenever they share a hotel room at competitions he always stumbles in at 3 AM drunk, and in various states of undress. Yuri knows exactly what he gets up to, and one night out of curiosity and jealousy he fucks Viktor while he's passed out drunk. And then he does it every time Viktor comes home drunk after that.

Re: Yuri Plisetsky/Viktor Nikiforov noncon

[(Anonymous)]

Enthusiastic +1

Mob Alpha/Yuuri Katsuki - Omegaverse /Cheating/Underage

[(Anonymous)]

Yuuri is a lonely omega househusband that gets fucked by the neighboring teenage middle school alpha boys. You can write Victor witnessing the action and joining in or just getting off from a distance. Bonus points if Yuuri gets impregnated by said teenage boys.

Re: Mob Alpha/Yuuri Katsuki - Omegaverse /Cheating/Underage

[(Anonymous)]

NICE

Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov consensual somnophilia

[(Anonymous)]

Victor doesn't have as much stamina as Yuuri, so after a busy day of training he often exhausted and falls asleep right after getting into bed. But he knows that Yuuri gets horny after training, so Victor gives Yuuri permission to do whatever to his body even when he's out cold.

Please no watersports/scat/pain/humiliation/etc, but other than that go wild! Bonus points for Victor waking up in the morning and getting off to any marks and stains Yuuri left on him the previous night.

Re: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov consensual somnophilia

[(Anonymous)]

:D

Yuuri Katsuki/Viktor Nikiforov, butt plug during ice training

[(Anonymous)]

(Pre-relationship) Victor asks Yuuri to wear a butt plug one practice to help him get used to skating when there are distractions. Yuuri's embarrassed, but willing to do anything Victor suggests to help him win. Victor helps him inserting and removing it and Yuuri can't help but react.

fill: Sysiphus (Victor Nikiforov/Katsuki Yuuri, fingering, butt plugs, so much thirst)

[(Anonymous)]

This is hell.

Why did he even agree to this in the first place? Oh yeah sure, it seemed reasonable when Victor said it - Yuuri had found himself nodding along before the words fully registered ('Wait what? You want to put what where for training?), and now here he was.

Bent over a bench in the locker room as Victor slowly works another finger and more lube into him. His knuckles are white where they're gripping the bench and his dick is painfully hard.

Victor's fingers brush against that spot inside him and the metallic tang of blood fills his mouth when he clamps down on his lip - biting back a mortifying moan. He isn't sure how much longer he lies there, spread and suspended in this never ending purgatory until finally, finally, finally he feels Victor withdraw, the heat of his fingers replaced by the cool press of the plug sliding into him - slick and snug and heavy.

Before getting on the ice, manages to make an excuse and rubs one out in the bathroom to try to take the edge off. This is both a good and terrible idea - good because his dick isn't trying to escape his clothes and terrible because in his post orgasmic sensitivity the plug feels larger, more present (more distracting when it presses against him as he laces up his skates).

He was wrong - this is hell.

The way that every movement on the ice, ever turn, every spin every jump jars the heavy glass plug resting snugly in side him, a never-ending press right up where he feels most sensitive and raw. He's not even halfway through practice and he's soaked through with sweat his knees feel weak.

All he wants is to crumble over the boards, hips tilted in the air just so, and maybe then Victor can push right in and -

He misses his next jump, the harsh landing sending a bloom of pain and pleasure racing through him. He can feel the dampness in his pants from the blurt of precum at the sensations.

It'll be a miracle if he makes it to lunch break without coming in his pants... twice.

No, no he had it all wrong before - this is hell, the deepest most excruciating circle of hell.

He's bent over the bench again - his muscles and coordination shot - loose and pliant and exhausted. If Victor noticed the mess when he took of his shorts he didn't comment.

He feels to large for his skin, tingles racing along his nerves as Victor slowly coaxes the plug out of him. Softly murmuring praises of how well he did at practice today. The words wash over him like a balm - but not enough to fill the space left behind when the plug is finally pulled free.

The initial relief is quickly obliterated by how empty he feels - the absence of the plug bringing into sharp focus the absence of what he's wanted all morning (if he's being honest what he's wanted since Victor pulled that plug out - eyes piercing and wicked).

He wants and wants and wants, wants Victor's cock splitting him open, filling him to the brim, getting him sloppy wet and letting it trail down the backs of his thighs as he lies here, finally finally satisfied.

This want is a dull throb, beating in time to where his hole is twitching around nothing but the coolness of open air.

Yuuri Katsuki/Victor Nikiforov "Will you please tell him his hair looks sexy pushed back?"

[(Anonymous)]

In the movie Mean Girls there's a scene where someone says "will you please tell him his hair looks sexy pushed back" or something like that, and I was hoping for a group dinner between or the skaters or something, and the topic of Yuuri's hair style pops up, and Victor does the whole pushes-Yuuri's-hair-back thing with his hand and asks the group at large the questions + everyone's answers.

Yakov Feltsman x Victor Nikiforov, noncon

[(Anonymous)]

Since he was a little kid, Victor is abused and raped by Yakov. He is in the man's hands, both physically and psychologically. Even nowadays, Yakov still takes advantage of him, and he doesn't know how to escape from this situation (because Yakov is really powerful, is part of the Mafia, etc).

Please include in there some nasty and disturbing graphic scenes or descriptions of what Yakov did/does with "his Vitya".

Bonus points if it has victuuri and Victor does everything to hide this from Yuuri, because he is afraid that if Yuuri finds out, he will abandon him, will be disgusted with him, etc. And also because he is deeply ashamed of his situation.

Yuri Plisetsky & Otabek Altin, misunderstanding & embarrassment

[(Anonymous)]

So I had this idea and since I'm not sure when/if I get to write it:

Due to some serious miscommunication, Yuri's grandfather thinks that Yuri and Otabek are a couple (even though actually they are just friends). But he'll support his grandson no matter what and wants to make sure that when Yuri and Otabek do have sex, they'll do it savely so he gets basically everything needed from condoms to lube to guides on gay sex and discreetly leaves it on Yuris bed.

Bonus if he, for some reason, gets Otabek from the airport without Yuri and tells him how he should be careful with Yuri and how he's happy for Yuri etc. etc. All the while Otabek is confused, especially when certain topics come up and he is too embarrassed to correct him or he tries and Yuri's grandfather thinks he's embarrassed. Which might make for a very awkward conversation between Yuri and Otabek.

Another Bonus if Yuri grandfather conveniently leaves the two alone in the flat and visits someone else and maybe for whatever reason mentions what he thinks is going on between Yuri and Otabek. Which of course leads to rumours (maybe he meets up with Yakov or runs into Mila... go as wild as you want).

JJ Leroy/Yuri Plisetsky - first times, not as expected

[(Anonymous)]

JJ was waiting for marriage and Yuri for someone he liked. Neither of them expected their first time to go like this.

Bonus if it's fail!sex.

Re: JJ Leroy/Yuri Plisetsky - first times, not as expected - FILL 1/2

[(Anonymous)]

Jean-Jacques Leroy lay slumped on the bar counter, one hand nursing a drink and the other clutching a ring. For once, there was no smirk to be found at the corners of his lips, but rather a weary, down-turned frown.
He spoke, to no one in particular and to everyone in the room at the same time. The establishment had a quieter, more mellow atmosphere than most in the area, so JJ had no problem in carrying his voice across the room. "I thought she want'd it too, y'know. I tol' her from the start so there'd be no mis'nderstandings. So why's this hap'ning?"
The bartender's hand paused on the cup it was wiping. "Sir-"
JJ sat up from his stool and leaned forward towards the bartender, who now looked taken aback. "D'you know who I am?"
"Sir-"
"I said, d'you know who I am?"
"No, however-"
JJ slammed back down into his stool, nearly falling backwards but catching himself in time with a surprisingly steady hand on the counter. "That's OK. You can call me King JJ. Nice to meet you."
"That's great. Now if you could try keeping your voice down in consideration for the others here, I would appreciate it."
It was as if JJ hadn't heard a thing: "So now you know who I am, King JJ," he paused for emphasis, and then continued, "d'you see how berzarre this sich--sichwation is?"
"Yes, this is quite a bizarre situation indeed." The bartender nodded slowly, surreptitiously eyeing at the direction of the door. The two large men in all black who stood near the entrance nodded.
"She tol' me she couldn't wait anymore. Even though she agreed to it. Even though-" JJ's voice quivered and his face screwed painfully together. He swallowed the knot that caught his throat and mumbled out, "Even though we were about t'get married."
The bartender's so far stoic expression softened a fraction. "I'm sorry to hear that, sir."
JJ stood up abruptly, knocking the stool onto the ground with a loud clatter. "I am sorry too! But y'know who I am more sorry for?" He climbed onto the counter and spilled the rest of his drink onto his pants. "Isabella! Why, you ask? Of course because she is not longer with King JJ!"
The next thing he knew, JJ was pulled off of the counter by two strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and being dragged across the floor.
"Hey! Hey! Stop this now, JJ is in pain right now! Watch for the table over there--oh-auch!"
He was thrown carelessly outside of the establishment, barred from re-entrance as the door behind him slammed shut with a click of finality. "What's wrong with marrying before sex?" He shouted to the sky. "Why couldn't she wait for one more fucking month?"
-----
And that was how Yuri Plisetsky found JJ, kneeling pathetically on the ground in front of a seedy bar. He stood before the man for a silent moment, deciding whether he'd rather laugh hysterically or sneer snidely at Jean-Jacques fucking Leroy.
He chose both, working up his chuckles that grew into a laugh as he approached JJ, and then sneered into the stupid man's face extra close, just for in case he couldn't see.
"This is fucking hilarious. Your fiance broke up with you?"
JJ closed his eyes and turned away. "Go away, little boy. King JJ has no time for you."
"Hah!" Yuri grabbed JJ's collar and pulled their faces closer so he could get a good look in his eyes. "So it's true." He continued gleefully, "And it's because she couldn't wait anymore. You wanted to have sex after marriage and she couldn't wait anymore."
This was the best fucking night Yuri ever had.
They were still nose to nose, eyes locked in a frozen moment in time. He hated JJ's guts so fucking much--he would ruin him tonight, and later on the ice. Yuri tightened his grip on JJ's collar and smiled. "Still feel like waiting for marriage is worth it?"
JJ hesitated for an instant, gaze unmoving but unsure.
Yuri tilted his head to the side, still gripping JJ's collar as he leaned even closer. When the other man brought their lips together, Yuri internally crowed with triumph.
So much for holding out after marriage.


a/n: omw to writing the rest!! ;)

Dark!Viktor/Yuri P.(/Any)

[(Anonymous)]

Non-ice skating au. Viktor is Yuri's guardian for some reason, and most nights he brings somebody home, drugs them, and rapes them, often in front of Yuri without shame, sometimes talking to Yuri about how good it feels while he does it. Eventually he wants to show Yuri how to do it too. I want it to be really casual, like Viktor is raping someone on a couch in the living room while Yuri's playing video games 5 feet away.

Re: Dark!Viktor/Yuri P.(/Any)

[(Anonymous)]

Duplicate thread, original here: https://yurionicekink.dreamwidth.org/881.html?thread=221297#cmt221297

Phichit/Celestino, somnophilia

[(Anonymous)]

Because why should the Yuris have all the fun?

Celestino passes out easily. Phichit has needs, damn it. Consensual or noncon, go crazy.

Re: Phichit/Celestino, somnophilia - FILL

[(Anonymous)]

Phichit has cash in his pocket just for these occasions. He thrusts a handful to the stone-faced taxi driver before shoving her out of the door. It was great of her to help him haul his drunken mess of a coach from the car to Celestino's hotel room, but the line is drawn here.

The rest of this is belongs to Phichit.

He doesn't hurry because there's no need to. There's time enough to lean his sweaty forehead on the cool window and really look at Beijing. The city spreads out below him with its flashing lights and millions of people, and one day he'll come back here. Not to skate but to explore it like an ordinary tourist on a holiday. Ideally, Celestino is still with him.

Phichit sighs and turns around. He didn't turn on the lights but it's not so dark that he can't see Celestino. He's a long line of dark clothes and messy hair and a profile Phichit could recognize anywhere.

They'd made a game of it once when Yuuri was still with them. Close your eyes and let your fingers see instead of your eyes. Celestino had laughed but he'd let them touch him too, map his brows and nose and the cleft on his chin. Everything had been easier with Yuuri as an excuse and a partner in crime.

They used to do this together too, sometimes, because Yuuri could drink anyone under the table and still stand up straight. He could certainly outdrink Celestino who usually ended up hanging on their shoulders like a sack of potatoes. They always got him on his couch or his bed with minimal amount of bumping and bruises, and then Yuuri left. He never asked why Phichit stayed and Phichit never asked where he went on the nights he didn't come home at all. It just wasn't any of his business.

But Yuuri's gone now. It's just Phichit and whatever help he can get at the moment, not that he needs any help with this part.

He crosses the room and unties Celestino's shoelaces first. The mismatched socks follow the shoes on the floor and Celestino doesn't even twitch. Objectively, he has kind of ugly feet. Hairy toes that have been broken too often to be a perfect line anymore. There are scars from old injuries and Phichit knows his right ankle hurts when it rains. Anyone else and Phichit might wrinkle his nose and okay, he does that because Celestino has been on his feet all day. Moving on, then.

Phichit has had a lot of practice dealing with the belt.

He gets on the bed and hovers over Celestino just for a moment. He's still breathing deep and steadily, hands curled into loose fists by his head, tangled in his wild hair. Phichit draws a finger down his nose (big, Celestino had laughed, and distinguished, Phichit had insisted and laughed too) to his lips and pushes down a little, just to see what Celestino will do.

Nothing, which means that Phichit can go on with this.

Celestino's lips are never chapped and one of these days Phichit will actually get to kiss him.

He kneels above Celestino so low that he's practically sitting on his muscled thighs. The belt slides free easily enough when Phichit gets a hand under a firm ass and lifts it up. He has to swallow down a mouthful of saliva because he's never gotten used to this part.

Celestino's cock is soft but it's still big against Phichit and hot even through their layers of clothing. There are enough rumors circulating their rink that Phichit knows it can get bigger still, that taking it is a challenge for anyone and that it's the reason Celestino usually lets the other guy do the fucking. He's nice and generous man like that.

Unlike his very considerate coach, Phichit is getting hard. He rarely needs more than his imagination to get going, so this is always more than enough. He throws the belt aside to get both hands under Celestino's ass and heft him even closer. He never wakes up for this so Phichit doesn't even try to be careful when he grinds down and rubs his dick against Celestino's.

Phichit has never owned a blow-up doll so he can't say for sure, but maybe using one is a little like this. It obviously can't be as good as this is because Celestino isn't just heavy and pliant, he's also radiating heat and Phichit can hear him breathing.

It'd be better if they were both naked but that's an invisible line Phichit has drawn in the sand. He pops the button open and unzips Celestino fly, but that's as far as this road goes. When he gets his hands on Celestino's cock for the first time, it's because Celestino takes his pants off himself.

Phichit can and does draw his own dick out though. It's hard and wet at the tip, and his jeans were getting way too tight to be comfortable. And anyway, he can't step out of this room with a mess in his pants.

Then he pushes Celestino's soft shirt up to his armpits and leaves it there. It's too much of a struggle to try to get it off when Celestino isn't helping any. Phichit is pretty sure that Celestino's coat is on the floor by the door, so at least he doesn't have to sleep in that. Or maybe the taxi driver stole it on her way out. Phichit wasn't really paying attention to her anymore.

Right now he has eyes only for the expanse of skin and body hair below him.

Phichit doesn't mind being short and it's downright fantastic when he has Celestino under him like this. He's so much bigger than Phichit is, taller and wider all over. He's not young or skating anymore and it shows, but under the thin layer of fat is still hard muscle and solid bones. Phichit has seen his old programs and it's a testament to Celestino's strength that he could throw all that mass up in the air into a perfectly executed jump.

Phichit wants him to use that strength to pin him against a wall and fuck him until he screams. Hopefully sooner rather than later, but Phichit is still working on that.

For now Celestino's chest rises and falls steadily under his palm. Phichit learned through trial and heart-stopping terror that the dusky nipples are a no-go zone unless he wants to wake Celestino up for real. As tempting as they are, it's much safer to rake his fingers through the wiry chest hair, not that Phichit minds. He wants to rub himself all over Celestino's chest and feel it against his own smooth skin. His skin would be so red and tingling and sensitive to touch after that.

Phichit grabs his cock and gives it a few strokes, and then he moves up until he's sitting on Celestino's hips. His breath hitches when a bead of precome drops from his cock to his knuckles and then down onto Celestino. Nothing short of a gold medal could make Phichit look away from that until the heavy drop has soaked into the hair on Celestino's belly. Then he lifts his eyes to Celestino's face.

Celestino is still sleeping if that kind of heavy sleep even is sleep instead of plain old unconsciousness. His eyes are closed and his lips are parted and Phichit bows down until he's leaning on his elbow and they're sharing a breath. His other hand is working on his dick, twisting around the head and fingers dragging all the way down to his tightly drawn balls.

He's so fucking close already.

The room is silent save for his heavy breathing and the wet, filthy sounds of him jacking off. It never takes long when he gets this far, when he's a hairbreadth away from a stubbled jaw and a kiss. It's another line drawn in the sand so he doesn't, he just looks and soaks in the closeness until it's too much and he's drawn so tight he knows he'll snap any second now.

He sits up, back straight, and it doesn't take more than one well-practiced flick of a wrist to come all over his sleeping coach. Phichit bites his tongue to keep from shouting and watches as his jizz paints Celestino's chest and belly. Phichit's fingers itch for his phone before he even gets his breath back, and this is a line he crossed months ago.

He gets his phone out of his back pocket with sticky fingers and doesn't even mind the smudges on the case. He can clean that later.

He's done this often enough to remember to turn off the flash and then he just hopes for the best. The quality will be low without a brighter light source but that's fine. He doesn't need an HD photo of this, a suggestion of what happened here is enough. He knows his brain is all too eager to fill in the blanks and sexy details later.

Still, it's kind of unfortunate that he's not idiotic enough to take a picture of Celestino's face tonight either.

Sometimes Phichit wonders what would happen if someone stole his phone and saw the rows and rows of photos of a hairy chest striped with come. He really should delete them but his heart and dick are weak and he never does. Maybe when he finally gets to look at the real deal every night.

The real deal hasn't even twitched in his sleep and is, in fact, drooling on his pillow. It's really cute and Phichit smiles when he stuffs his softening cock back into his pants and zips up. He considers pulling Celestino's shirt back down but no, it's better to leave it like that so Phichit's jizz dries on him and not on his shirt.

Phichit gets up carefully and adjusts his clothes, looking at his coach. Celestino looks like a lazy wreck so once again, Phichit considers it a job well done. He knows that Celestino won't say anything about this in the morning because he never does.

Phichit used to wonder if Celestino even knew who did this or if he just assumed he'd gotten blackout drunk and lucky with some random guy. Then he realized that Celestino wouldn't believe for a minute that Phichit left him alone or with a horny stranger if he was that drunk. For all Celestino is more than twice Phichit's age and his coach, he sure as hell isn't the responsible one when they drink together.

Considering that, there's exactly one suspect left in the game of Guess Who Came All Over Me While I Was Passed Out Drunk.

Since Celestino keeps quiet about it, Phichit takes it as a tacit permission to continue. He'd really like to do this when they're both sober and awake, but that time just isn't here yet. He needs to prove himself first and show that he's not a flighty kid anymore.

He reaches out to tug a strand of hair behind Celestino's ear and sweep his thumb across a high cheekbone. Celestino's eyelids flutter and Phichit is at the door almost faster than he skates at the rink. He can't get caught here, not now.

With a one last look over his shoulder, he opens the door and steps into the hallway. His room is across Celestino's and his phone burns in his pocket. If it weren't for the competition tomorrow, he'd have more than the one orgasm tonight. As it is, he'll just shower, sleep and wake up again. Then he'll meet Celestino's eyes over the breakfast table and smile, and they both will carry on as usual.

Just like they always do after a night like this.

Katsuki Yuuri: solo, object insertion

[(Anonymous)]

Teemaged Yuuri gets himself off with makeshift dildos (the handle of a hairbrush, a shampoo bottle, a zucchini, whatever) because he doesn't own any real sex toys since he's still living with his parents.

Re: Katsuki Yuuri: solo, object insertion

[(Anonymous)]

Hahaha yes! Please let it be to thoughts/pictures of Victor, that would be amazing

Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky - bb!delinquents

[(Anonymous)]

Yuri's a bit of a delinquent. Nothing serious, he just grew up in kind of a shitty neighbourhood/had a weird family life and picked up petty vandalism to let off steam. Breaking into abandoned houses and spray painting, carving his name on fences, stuff like that. He has skating now, but he still goes home in the off-season and he's young, he doesn't have anything else. Otabek, even with all his motorcycles and his DJing and his mischievous friends, stayed pretty much on the straight and narrow. Always had acceptable outlets for his stress.

One day, visiting Yuri at his home, Yuri takes Otabek out at night and they break into an abandoned house and break stuff and tag the walls and generally fuck around and let off steam. They hadn't addressed their attraction to each other before, but they end up kissing. Or more. Prompter is easy like that.

Yuuri Katsuki/many, a loving gangbang

[(Anonymous)]

College!Yuuri has needs and way too much stamina to be satisfied after just one round of sex, no matter how enthusiastic or drawn out. Thankfully, there are a few people (like an entire hockey team for example) who will happily take on the task of satisfying Yuuri.
In other words, Yuuri in the center of a loving gangbang! Preferably no canon characters except Yuuri, because as much as I love them, I can't see them in this scenario.

+ for Victor finding out about it years later

Yuuri Katsuki/Yuri Plisetsky cheating

[(Anonymous)]

Yuuri is with Victor, Yuri is with Otabek, and they cheat on their respective partners with each other. Would love all the 'standard' elements of infidelity, like sneaking around, making up fake works trips to meet up in secret, hiding hickeys/marks, secret texting......... and a dramatic reveal, of course!
Yuuri/Yuri endgame would be lovely but not required.

Any/Any, Fuck or Die and/or Bad guys made them do it

[(Anonymous)]

There is still a lack of these tropes in the fandom. Any pairing (preferrably m/m, but anything goes for me), any reason...

(If you happen to write about a rarepair I'll shower you in glitter.)

Re: Any/Any, Fuck or Die and/or Bad guys made them do it - Fill, Ashes on the Water [1/?]

[(Anonymous)]

You said any pairing.

None of them were paying any attention to Yakov, not even the woman who still had a hand clutched in his jacket and who was supposed to be making sure he didn't try anything – not that there was anything he could do in this situation, at least not now.

None of them, that was, except for Victor, who had barely looked away from Yakov since they were kidnapped. Cheerful, fearless Victor who had been smiling and chattering like normal only an hour ago, and who now, for the first time Yakov could remember, looked terrified under the façade of calm he was trying to plaster over his face. He kept looking at Yakov with his eyes gone huge, as though Yakov knew exactly what to do, as though he could fix this.

Yakov wished those things were true, too, especially since the moment they'd been forced into this dusty room with its boarded-up windows. Aside from the bits of stone and metal scattered in the corners on the bare concrete floor, the only thing in here besides the people with knives and guns was a wooden chair. Sitting in the chair was a man, a leader of some kind, who might have been handsome if it weren't for the cruel twist to his smile.

Yakov had been able to tell, right away, that this man probably liked young, pretty things. Probably liked breaking them. And Victor was young, only a teenager, and very, very pretty.

"Oh, what have we here," the man had said, his eyes lighting up as Victor was pulled in after Yakov. Yakov had been shoved to the side, unable to do anything with the gun trained on him, heart sinking as he realized that no, they wouldn't just be put in a side room while some ransom was demanded. The faint hope had turned to a sick feeling as Victor was walked up to the man, who was already running his eyes up and down his frame. "Perhaps we could have some real fun while we wait to hear about the money," he said, and several of the other people in the room had started looking quite pleased, too.

And then he'd pulled Victor sideways into his lap, causing laughter to break out. Put an arm around his shoulders. Touched a hand to his face and laughed as Victor tried to flinch away. He hadn't even untied Victor's hands from behind his back, so Victor was left struggling to keep his balance as he attempted to move away.

If Yakov had thought shouting would help, he would have yelled himself hoarse right then. But his hands were tied, too, and there were a good dozen people in here, all armed. If he reminded them of his existence, as they gradually became distracted by their leader playing with Victor, he wasn't sure what they would do to enjoy both of them suffering at once.

The man pulled the elastic from Victor's braid and started to undo it slowly. "What lovely hair," he said. "So long. And it really is silver, can all of you see it? I thought it was just editing in the pictures, and he was really platinum blond, or maybe bleach, but no, even his eyelashes are silver."

"Are you sure we can't keep him?" someone called out.

"I'm starting to consider it," the leader laughed.

Victor kept looking back at Yakov, his breath picking up. That calm front of his was beginning to break. Yakov wasn't sure if he'd ever felt so awful for not doing anything, so angry at his own helplessness. Here was Victor, begging him for help, and Yakov had always tried to help him, when it was reasonable, and here he was, doing nothing. Surely – there had to be something, surely, if only for a short while. To buy some time. He was fairly certain that the police were looking for them. Maybe he should make a nuisance of himself and see if they wanted to make Victor cry by hurting him, instead of watching him protest as they kept running their hands over Victor. Or maybe their idea of fun would be even worse, which was the only thing keeping him still for the moment.

"Lovely," the leader said again as he finished pulling apart the top of the braid. He ran his hand down Victor's hair, brought part of it forward over his shoulder. "I can't imagine why you would ever put it back. Hiding it. Why did you have it back?" He was trying to catch Victor's gaze; it worked, for a moment, before Victor's eyes skittered to the ground, then back to Yakov, and then back to the ground. "Hm? Why did you braid it?" He tugged on the section he was holding. "Come on, you can speak, can't you?"

Victor glanced at Yakov, who jerked his chin down. Yes, play along, don't let him get angry yet, he tried to communicate. Maybe it worked, because Victor swallowed and looked back at the leader. "It was in the way," he said, and his voice only trembled a little. He was being so brave. Yakov hoped that would help in some way.

"I see." The leader stopped playing with Victor's hair and touched his face again, crooked a finger under his jaw and went to kiss him. Already? Yakov bit back a curse. Victor tried to fling himself back. He almost tumbled off the man's lap and to the floor, and was only barely caught in time. "Come on," the man said. "It's just a little kiss. It's not gonna hurt." He tried once more, but Victor squirmed and turned his face away, the disgust and fear evident in his expression.

Eventually, the man tired of this and grabbed Victor, jerked him in and forced him into a kiss. Yakov watched him struggle even more, heard him make a little cry, and felt sick. Felt furious. This man had no right to be touching anyone, let alone Victor, who for all his annoying points had done absolutely nothing to deserve being hurt. Who had no business reeling as the man let him go, looking like he was on the verge of angry tears, when he should have been cooing over his spoiled dog or trying to convince Yakov of his latest crazy idea for his programs or sitting in the window and studying that French textbook he'd been so attached to lately.

"He's a fighter," someone chuckled, though Yakov could barely hear over the sound of his teeth grinding against each other.

"Good," the man said, sliding his arm from Victor's shoulders to his waist, pulling him closer, leering. "It's always so much fun when they—"

Yakov couldn't stand to see it for a second longer. "Get your hands off him," he snarled, stepping forward and pulling his surprised guard along with him.

Everyone else started and looked over at him. "Oh," the man said after a second of staring. His eyes slid to the woman, who had readied her gun again. Yakov noticed, though, that she wasn't holding it right. "Weren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on that one?"

"I'm very sorry, sir, it won't happen again."

"It's fine," he said, still eyeing Yakov, who kept glaring at him. "Although, you know... why don't we play a game? What do you think, pretty?" he asked Victor, tugging on his hair again, that creepy grin on his face. "I'll even let you choose what we play."

"What are you talking about?"

Yakov was pretty sure he had an idea after the man helped Victor to his feet and stood himself, then gestured for Yakov to be brought closer. "Untie his hands."

Victor looked lost. The leader was still holding him firmly by the shoulder, and he cringed away when he went after his hair again. Yakov kept his eyes squarely on the man as he rubbed his freed wrists. Following more directions, he shrugged off his trench coat as slowly as he dared (anything to buy more time), then draped it on the back of the chair before sitting down. He put his hands on the arms and stared back at the leader.

"This is your coach, isn't he, pretty. How long's he been teaching you?"

Victor sent him a questioning look. Yakov made a tiny motion again. Anything that would keep him talking instead of touching. "I don't know." Victor paused. "Seven or eight years?"

"You like him? Is he nice to you?"

"Yes?" Victor leaned away as the man tugged him in, started to play with the hem of his shirt.

"How nice?" he asked in a teasing tone.

Yakov try to banish the nausea he felt at where this was going. Victor didn't seem to get it, or if he did, hid it well; his eyebrows knit together with confusion. The man laughed, and Yakov was ready for him to ask something more blunt, or at least lewd enough that Victor would catch on, but apparently he decided that it would be more fun to force Victor into another kiss, rough and long.

Yakov's hands tightened on the arms of the chair until he could hear the wood creak, aching to get up and do something. If only there weren't so many of them. He would have enjoyed dragging this man off Victor and punching him in the face.

"Here's the game, pretty," the leader said when he finally released Victor, who panted and tried to pull away from him. "Option number one." And he threw Victor into Yakov's lap.

Yakov caught him before he could overbalance, or fall back on the ground. Victor struggled to right himself without the use of his hands, but then he snapped his head up and stared at Yakov, expression blank.

"You let your dear, precious coach fuck you first," the leader continued, prompting another outburst of laughs with some comments thrown in. "Or, you decide that you'd rather he just watch from up close as we have some fun. What will it be? Oh, wait, you're nice and young, aren't you? Maybe it's not fair to ask you to make such a big decision. I should be asking your coach. Which will it be, Mr. Feltsman?"

Yakov spared a moment to glower at him over Victor's shoulder – which only made him grin more widely – before looking back at Victor. From this close, he could see the bruise starting to form on Victor's jaw, the way that he was trembling. "Vitya," he murmured lowly, hoping it might calm him momentarily. Which option would hurt him less? One would give them more time, hopefully, but the thought of forcing Victor through something so cruel was making him taste bile at the back of his tongue. But watching these people do it instead, letting them touch him without even delaying them, seemed just as awful for Victor.

Victor ducked his head, though due to the way he was kneeling on the chair, Yakov could still see his face through his hair falling around it. He mouthed something; Yakov wasn't an accomplished lipreader, but it looked like please. Please what? That didn't tell him anything. He tilted his head, and Victor glanced up at him, pleading. Scared. His fingers were digging into Yakov's arm to the point of pain. Another word – no, two. Not them.

Fine. If Victor preferred it this way, then fine. Yakov would make himself do it. He could try to be as kind as he could, try to make it not hurt, at least. And if, even with that, Victor couldn't stand to be near him afterward – if it came to it, and there was nothing else to do, Yakov could help him find a new coach. He had connections. Almost anyone would be willing to take him on, no matter how disobedient he was, with his natural grace and beautiful skating and the way he cheerfully followed his whims to such effect.

He heard feet shuffling. They were getting impatient. He slowly wrapped an arm around Victor, glared up again. "I'll do it," he growled. Victor's hand tightened even further on his arm, then relaxed.

If only a look could kill. The leader looked far too pleased (and healthy) as he smiled at Yakov and took a couple steps back. "Then by all means. Get started."

Victor Nikiforov/Young Victor Nikiforov/Chris Giacometti, time travel threesome

[(Anonymous)]

Teenage Victor somehow ends up in the future. Lucky for him, both older Victor and Chris are there. Maybe a competition has just ended, maybe one of them　is visiting the other, whatever. Up to filler if younger Victor knows who Chris is yet.

They spend the next day or two until younger Victor returns home taking turns with him, giving him the time of his life and fucking him into absolute exhaustion.

Bonus: Victor is really into the idea of seeing younger Victor get utterly debauched, maybe giving him hickeys and so on.

Re: Victor Nikiforov/Young Victor Nikiforov/Chris Giacometti, time travel threesome

[(Anonymous)]

PLEASE

yuuri katsuki/victor nikiforov, time travel, virginity and ust

[(Anonymous)]

Somehow 28 year old Victor finds himself in Detroit, with 18 year old Yuuri.

They try to work out why Victor got sent back in time, and Victor is trying very, very hard to not overstep any boundaries because 18 year old Yuuri is so shy and so beautiful and, look ,"innocent eros" is 24 year old Yuuri's thing - no one does it better, okay? - but 18 year old Yuuri is an actual virgin and just exudes "please ravish me against the nearest flat surface while I look up at you with big, pretty eyes".

Which is to say, the UST is ridiculous.

Victor's not sure if he wants to spread him across the bed and give him the softest, sweetest first time in the history of first times, or if he wants to shove Yuuri over the shitty dorm-room desk and fuck him until he forgets his own name.

Victor is fairly sure he can't just have been sent back in time to deflower to love of his life - no matter how much his dick seems to support that theory - right?

(Yuuri seems to be grappling with the same idea, judging by the blushing and wordless, wide-eyed "oh god, boner, not now" look he's almost permanently wearing.)

Re: yuuri katsuki/victor nikiforov, time travel, virginity and ust

[(Anonymous)]

All the +1 because this is an amazing prompt and I hope it gets filled.

Yuri Plisetsky/Otabek Altin - orgasm denial, begging, D/s

[(Anonymous)]

Otabek only gets to come if he asks Yuri nicely.

(Bonus points if you make him cry)

Re: Yuri Plisetsky/Otabek Altin - orgasm denial, begging, D/s

[(Anonymous)]

:D

someone challenges Yuuri to a skate off

[(Anonymous)]

Inspired by Skygem's Retirement AU: someone who doesn't know about Yuuri challenges him to a skate off, expecting an easy win. BUT BOY ARE THEY WRONG.
This is all I need in life.

Yuuri Katsuki/Victor Nikiforov Supernatural/Secret Agent AU

[(Anonymous)]

Victor Nikiforov, leader of an incredibly competent secret agent team, considered by the underworld as one of the deadliest human beings alive, is In Love. Victor and his team (Mila Babicheva, Georgi Popovich, Yuri Plisetsy aged up Yuri Plisetsky tho, and handler Yakov Feltsman) are exhausted, physically, mentally, and emotionally, after a long stream of incredibly high risk and harrowing missions. It's time for a break. The world can live without them for a few months because none of them can live this life anymore. So Victor has Yurio do some research (hacker!yurio is awesome) and they find a nice little town in Japan, not too isolated but not too crowded, completely non-suspicious, plus hot springs fuck yeah, and the team goes on a long vacation. Victor was not counting on meeting Yuuri, the owner of the hotsprings, who is so kind and sweet and adorable and takes Victor's breath away in ways that hasn't happened in, well, ever. The entire team loves him, actually. It's hard not to, even for prickly Yurio. But how can Victor protect a civilian from the dangerous life he leads? He'd never forgive himself if something happened to Yuuri. He's never wanted something so badly and yet been so aware of the dangers should he go for it.

Yuuri Katsuki, witch from a long line of witches, owner of Yutopia Hot Springs for Spirits and Other Deities, has A Problem. Because he has gone and fallen in love with a mortal. And not just any mortal no. It had to be Victor Nikiforov, who so happens to be in close connection with many goverments and secret agencies due to his line of work. If he were to find out what Yuuri was and the kind of(nonhuman) patrons the hot springs truly catered to, it could spell disaster for the supernatural world. He's not even sure what made the humans come here, the entire town was made to look as unappealing and BORING as possible to discourage human tourists. But the longer they stay the more Yuuri grows fond of them, especially Victor. And now he's torn between two worlds.

What happens next is up to anon but happy ending please!

++++Phichit Chulanont/Yuuri Katsuki bromance. I love their friendship.
+++protective Victor not realizing that Yuuri is capable of literally turning someone into a newt. Or setting them on fire with a gesture and look.

Yuri Plisetsky/Other - team jacket swap

[(Anonymous)]

What it says on the tin: Yuri wearing another skater's jacket. Preferably in public.

Why is up to the author! Maybe it's mutually possessive Otayuri, the result of a viral meme that starts with a photoshopped pic of Yuri in Victor's jacket, a situation that forces him to accept JJ's jacket as cover, or maybe he accidentally grabs Chris's jacket while trying to hide from his fans.

Any pairing is fine. Make it serious, make it crack. Bonus points if Yuri is only pretending to be outraged.

Yuuri Katsuki / Victor Nikiforov - exhibitionism/voyeurism

[(Anonymous)]

Yuuri and Victor are fucking, but someone is watching them (maybe they didn't shut the door all the way, or they didn't close the curtains, or they think they're alone in a public place but they're not). Yuuri - and only Yuuri - notices that he and Victor are being watched, and Yuuri takes the possessiveness/exhibitionism to another level.

No preference on who's watching them! I like that it could be anybody.

Re: Yuuri Katsuki / Victor Nikiforov - exhibitionism/voyeurism

[(Anonymous)]

Seconded! Possessive Yuuri is my fave