yurionicekink | Prompt Post 1

Seconded like whoa

“He was a heartbreaker!”

“Phichit!” Yuuri protests, blushing, and tries to hide his face in his shoulders.

“You were, though. You totally were, oh my god. And the worst part was, get this—”
“He didn’t even realise it?” Viktor says, smiling, finishing his drink.

“ Viktor. ”

They’re getting married, and Phichit and Chris showed up early, stating best-men-privilege. Honestly, he’s grateful because he’s gotten tired of reading up on the symbolic value of violets versus that of tulips.

“Nope, not a clue. It happened every year, without fail. He showed up at some party, went home with a dozen numbers scrawled all over his body and just. Never called back. And then he complained about being single! . Also, do not get me started on pole dancing classes,”

“Minami lives two hours away, he’ll be delighted to be my best man, Phichit.”

“I don’t mind sharing,” Chris says, deeply interested, “What about pole dancing classes?”

“We-ell,” Phichit says, “So. First day. We both show up, right? And the class is full of these gorgeous, gorgeous men. Yuuri nearly bolts when he sees them but I hold him back, because I’m nice like that. Anyway, he fumbles for a bit but by the third class, everyone’s just gawking at him, clearly interested and is it turns out, our Yuuri has a bit of a crush on this tattooed hottie called Rithvik,”

“Please don’t.”

“So I,” He says, “Being the awesome wingman I am, shove him towards him. It’s a little awkward at first but then they begin to talk, and they’re smiling, and I’m like, yay, but then. He takes his phone. And,” Phichit looks at Viktor, “The background image is you.”

Yuuri burrows further.

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Poor Rithvik just goes, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you had a boyfriend,’ and Yuuri never shows his face there again.”

They laugh, Yuuri threatens to leave a few minutes later.

“Okay, okay, that’s it! But seriously, Yuuri,” Chris says, “That’s your MO, huh? Pole dancing?”

He shrugs, “Easier than talking, I guess.”

More effective too, Viktor thinks.

The thing is, Viktor knows he’s attractive. And he’s perfectly alright with abusing that. He’ll shamelessly flirt his way into restaurants, out of difficult situations, get discounts, entries. He’s got it down to a formula, knows exactly on whom it will work, and how it will work best.

Yuuri’s not like that.

Yuuri doesn’t have to be, people just agree with him. He doesn’t notice it at first, but when he starts to, it’s impossible to ignore. It’s raining and suddenly they’ll be sharing an umbrella that neither of them brought, Yuuri’s wallet will be lying forgotten in the flat and he’ll come back with takeout anyway, strangers willingly switch seats with them if they get bad ones, they stay at a hotel and two days later they have a better room because oh, the manager is just so sweet .

Sometimes he looks guilty afterwards.

But never, never does he seem to try.

omg please someone, fill this.

Yuuri is mistaken for a good listerner and people come to tell him gossips and secrets; Yuuri being who he is just smile politely and say some generic advice while screaming WHY! inside his head. Overtime he has collected so many rumors and secrets he has no idea what to do with aside from using them to get free coffee, and people still wouldn't leave him alone.

i am digging this a lot!

I just want Yuuri fucking Minami through and through. And please without aging the characters!

I would like to read about a scene that is completely connected and/or is a continuation to this masterpiece here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10023470

Viktor is safe from any blackmail or damage his rapists could have done to his career, but he isn't safe from them, and the terror they still can inspire to him.

I would like to see one of them turning to Viktor and saying something like "You are older now, but still so pretty and fuckable, you know that?", "I would still bend you over a couch, like in the old times", "Look at you, you are still delicious", etc. And that hits Viktor hard, really hard. He has flashbacks, he comes to the cruel realization that he hasn't healed yet from all that trauma, that he is still very mentally vulnerable.

Bonus points for protective Yuuri, and for any scene of him reassuring and taking care of Viktor, "I will never let anyone touching you against your will. Ever."

Seconded so hard!

Thirded!

Based on Mitsuro Kubo's interview, where she joked about Victor's tears being a national treasure, that could grant an eternal youth, start wars and attract goblins.

So, Fantasy or Sci/fi AU. Victor's tears for some reasons are special. They could heal any wound or illness (or maybe turn stones into gold). For this reasons he is always hunted by bad guys. His captors usually do terrible things to him, to make him cry and produce more tears. They physically, emotionally or even sexually abuse Victor every day, and every new his captor is not better than other.

Than, one day, Yuuri steals or buys Victor. Yuuri really needs his tears, because he has some incurable illnes or someone form his family is hurt. But, after meeting him personally, Yuuri just can't bring himself hurting Victor. Instead, he decided to make sure that Victor will never cry again.

oh nonnie, don't tempt me! I have so many other things to write! but this particular thing is so ridiculously iddy! D: I already wrote 6.4k of Victor having a hard time lol

but still, I wonder if you'd object to the original writer writing a continuation (maybe), though I do wanna see someone else give it a shot

~~I'm still very tempted~~

OP here! Oh boy, I absolutely have nothing against it! In fact, I totally loved the writing style of the first work, so yeah, it will be awesome to see the continuation written in it!

I hope this is tempting enough, tbh! *.*

This is awesome omg, i'm seconding this so hard

How is Yuri sexist in canon, please?

Yuuri gets off on making Victor cry.

Orgasm denial, begging, humiliation, roleplay, I just want Yuuri to make Victor cry in bed, and Victor to be very into being overwhelmed.

Bonus points if they didn't expect the crying to become the kink.

Please no bdsm honorifics (ex "sir"), I prefer informal dynamics.

Not OP, but your writingis great, I'd love to see your sequel!

5.For the ease of prompt finding and email tracking please use full names from the official site in the comment title,

It really only happens because Phichit and Chris don't know how to stop trying to one-up each other sometimes. They've made their way up to Phichit's hotel room after the NHK Trophy banquet, giggling and tipsy on champagne and the success of a silver and a bronze, respectively. Phichit has him back against the door as soon as it’s closed, dragging him down by the collar for an open-mouthed kiss.

It was only supposed to be a one time thing after last year’s GPF, a bit of fun and consolation for taking the last two places. Instead they've been fucking for almost a year now, at shared competitions and during the off-season when they were in the same country, then more recently over Skype when they’d realized that only seeing each other naked every couple of months wasn’t enough any more. Lately Chris has been wondering if they should have the discussion about what they are to each other, but at the moment he’s too into this to want to stop for talking about feelings.

Phichit breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead against Chris’s chest for a breath, then pulls out his phone for a selfie while dragging Chris back down into the frame. He goes willingly, kissing the other man's neck as the shutter clicks, surprising laughter from Phichit. “You know I’m still posting this, right?”

Chris winks at him. “Make sure to tag me in it. This is absolutely the kind of content my followers expect.”

Phichit’s fingers are already tapping away, and Chris’s phone chimes an instant later with the notification. After party with @christophe-gc ;) #nhk #osaka Unsurprisingly, given how many followers Phichit has, there’s already several likes. He clicks the button himself and replies with a smiley of his own. It’s not like they’re trying to keep their...whatever this is...a secret, but that’s probably the most blatant they’ve been about it on social media so far. He looks up and smiles slyly.

“I should get a picture of us to upload too, wouldn’t you agree?”

Phichit grins back at him. “Trying to upstage my selfies, Giacometti?”

“Only with your consent, of course,” he replies, making his tone as oily as possible, and is rewarded with Phichit’s bright laughter.

“That was so sleazy, Chris. Of course I’ll help you upstage me, what else are friends for?” he’s already shedding his suit jacket as he speaks. “Let’s try to keep it semi-classy, okay? I don't want to give any of the Juniors that follow us heart attacks.”

The picture that Chris eventually posts is the only one of the lot that could even vaguely be considered classy. They’re both shirtless and cracking up, Phichit’s free arm wrapped around his back while Chris is fluffing up his hair. It’s adorable, frankly, and since in most of the rest they’d been distracted with making out, it’s the only one that makes the cut. Phichit makes an approving noise as he watches Chris post it and tag him.

“That’s definitely going to blow mine out of the water,” he sighs. “I’m such a good person, how will you ever make this up to me?” His grin has gone about as filthy as his face is capable of as he leans back against the headboard.

Chris tosses his phone on the bedside table and rolls over onto all fours, bracing himself over Phichit’s body. “Oh, I have a few ideas.”

He’s halfway down Phichit’s torso, small bites that barely show against his skin, when Phichit sits bolt upright, hands on Chris’s shoulders. “We should record this,” he breathes, a mixture of lust and excitement coloring his voice, sounding like it’s the best idea he’s ever had. Chris stills, and Phichit beams down at him. “It would be really hot, don’t you think?”

That sunny smile is far too innocent to belong to someone who can suggest so blithely that they should film themselves having sex, but what the hell. It’s not like he’s wrong. The thought is...definitely arousing, and a frisson of excitement shivers through him. Chris is the farthest thing from shy about his body or his sexuality, but he’s not stupid either - he’s an international athlete who has to watch his reputation, and he’s never been with anyone he trusted enough to not take advantage of something like that, at least not who’d be interested in the first place. Phichit, though, he trusts - and he’s obviously interested. Phichit is still watching him expectantly, and he leans in to lick a long line up the side of his throat, ending at his ear with a whispered, “definitely hot.”

He can feel Phichit shudder underneath him. “Let- let me set it up, it shouldn’t take long.” His voice sounds slightly strangled, and Chris sits back on his heels, pleased at the reaction. Phichit is usually almost entirely unflappable no matter what outrageous things Chris says or does - part of the reason Chris likes him so much - so seeing him even a little flustered is novel. He bounces back quickly though, digging a portable tripod (of course he has one of those, Chris can’t help thinking) out of his luggage and setting his phone on it, fussing with the settings. He makes a quick lap of the room to turn on all the lights - “Proper lighting is important, or we won’t be able to see anything,” he explains - before setting back on the bed, staring at Chris. He’s a little flushed, and a lot hard. Chris licks his lips, staring back, then turns to wink at the camera.

Laughing, Phichit curls a hand around Chris’s neck and catches his lips as he pulls him down. He tastes like mint chapstick and the remnants of champagne and Chris chases the taste as he deepens the kiss, licking at the inside of his mouth. Phichit makes a soft noise underneath him, and Chris tilts his head down, sucking a series of hickeys into Phichit’s collarbone.

“Mm, Chris, come on,” Phichit grinds up against him, getting both hands under Chris’s waistband and squeezing a double handful of his ass, long fingers rubbing between his cheeks. Chris moans, pushing back into Phichit’s hands as he busies himself attempting to unfasten Phichit’s trousers, finally succeeding in getting them open.

There’s a tangle of limbs as they briefly separate, trying to remove the last of their clothing, and they’re both laughing when they finally manage it. Chris is pretty sure he’s still wearing one of his socks but is far past caring as he dips his head to kiss the inside of Phichit’s knee, slowly working his way inward. Phichit’s hands are curled loosely in his hair, tugging him gently but insistently onward. Chris obliges and licks a long, slow line from the crease of his ass to his balls, sucking on them briefly before tonguing at the head of his cock. Phichit is keeping up a not particularly quiet litany of moans interspersed with soft curses, his fingers tightening in Chris’s hair. Chris bobs his head, taking it a few inches at a time, and Phichit’s moans are well on their way to becoming shouts before he tugs at Chris’s hair, pulling him off.

“I don’t want this to be over yet, come up here-” Phichit lets go of Chris’s hair, gasping a little. Chris brushes his hand down over Phichit’s ass and rubs at it, trying to catch his breath.

“Do you want to fuck me, or the other way around?” Neither of them has a particular preference, and they’ve fallen into the slightly ridiculous habit of letting whoever placed higher choose.

“I think you should take care of me tonight,” Phichit says thoughtfully, spreading his legs wider. Chris smirks at him.

“I’ll make sure to thank you very thoroughly with my body, then,” and Phichit is laughing again, handing over the bottle of lube from the bedside table. He uncaps it as he mouths mindlessly at Phichit’s neck, slicking up his fingers and pressing one into him, breaching the resistance easily. He adds a second finger as Phichit’s hand brushes over his achingly hard cock, featherlight strokes that do nothing but stoke the heat pooling in his belly.

“Ah, Phichit, you tease~” he has three fingers pressed sloppily into him now, stretching him open as quickly as he dares.

“I’m ready, come on--” Phichit rips open a condom and rolls it onto Chris’s erection one-handed, barely looking, the other hand occupied with pulling on Chris’s hair as he sucks a mark into the side of Chris’s neck. He pulls away as Chris gets a hand under his knee, and Chris dips his head for another sloppy kiss that turns into mostly teeth as he pushes into Phichit. Phichit’s arms come up to wrap around him as he rolls his hips slowly, teasing, and Phichit writhes under him impatiently before getting his legs behind Chris’s back and digging his heels into his ass, goading him on. And well, Chris is only human. He snaps his hips, picking up the pace as Phichit moves with him.

They’re both close almost embarrassingly quick, and Chris spares a glance at the phone. Not that they haven’t both been making a show of it already, but maybe...his hips still, and Phichit whines involuntarily as Chris slips out of him. “Let’s try something a little different,” Chris suggests, sitting back on his heels and hooking his arms under Phichit’s, pulling him upright. He nudges at his shoulder and Phichit hums in sudden understanding, turning to face the camera, his back against Chris’s torso and legs splayed to either side. Chris’s hands on his hips guide him back down onto his cock until he’s flush against him. Phichit’s thighs are spread, trembling slightly, his body on full display for the camera. Judging by the breathy noises he can't seem to stop making and the flush on his face, Phichit’s realized it. Chris wraps an arm around Phichit’s chest, holding tight, and wraps his other hand around Phichit’s cock. He carefully fucks up into Phichit’s body, jerking him off in time with his thrusts, his thighs protesting the abuse even as he finds a rhythm. Phichit’s hands run restlessly over Chris’s arms, his head thrown back on Chris’s shoulder, and Chris bites gently at the base of his throat. Within a few strokes Phichit is nearly there, and Chris turns his head to whisper in his ear.

“Smile for the camera, sweetheart.” Phichit chokes on a laugh that deepens almost immediately into a throaty moan, coming hard all over Chris’s hand and his own torso.

Phichit goes boneless and suddenly heavy after he comes, flopping forward onto his elbows, and Chris follows him up, grabbing hold of his hips and driving into him in desperate, jerky strokes before finishing with a cry. He manages a last tired wink at the camera as he licks the come off his hand, sucking on his fingers, the other still wrapped possessively around Phichit’s hip as his orgasm ebbs.

He carefully eases out of Phichit, who gives a blissed-out moan against the sheets, then ties off the condom and tosses it in the vague direction of not the bed before falling carefully back on the pillows and coaxing the other man up next to him. “Not that I’m complaining, but where did that come from?”

“Ah, well,” Phichit shrugs from within the circle of his arms, still boneless and pliant, “you can only take so many suggestive instagram selfies before a man starts getting ideas, you know?”

“You have the best ideas,” Chris tells him firmly.

“I really do.” Phichit curls in against him for a moment, still catching his breath, then tilts his head up. “So…you want to watch it now?”

He really, really does.

It must show on his face, because Phichit grins. “I’m not getting out of this bed until tomorrow, so you’re gonna have to go get it.” Chris makes a face at him, then rolls up with a groan - that last position might not have been the smartest idea, so soon after a competition - and grabs the phone off the tripod. By the time he gets back on the bed, Phichit’s managed to sit up, wincing just a little as he folds his legs under him. He hands the phone over and Phichit stops the recording, then hits play. It’s...something else, sitting next to Phichit while they watch themselves on the screen.

Chris watches himself giving Phichit one of the several impressive hickies he’s now sporting. Phichit’s face is deliberately tilted toward the camera, playing to it, and the faces he’s making as the slightly tinny gasps echo from the phone’s speakers...well. He’s never regretted the unfortunate fact of the male refractory period more. He nuzzles at Phichit’s neck, who turns his head from the screen and uses his free hand to pull Chris’s chin up, capturing his lips in a sloppy, drawn-out kiss. Chris moans against him, more than a little frustrated with the knowledge they won’t be able to go again tonight, not after such a long day. Phichit nips his tongue and draws away with a wink, turning back to the video.

“Mm, the angle for this bit is all wrong,” Phichit pouts, tilting his head to get a better look at the phone screen. “You can barely see any of the good parts.” Chris drapes himself over his back, squinting at it.

“Unless we’re involving more people in this, I don’t think we’re getting dynamic angles in homemade porn,” Chris remarks. “Of course, if that’s what you’re angling for…” he raises his eyebrows suggestively. Phichit just laughs and burrows back against him with a yawn, still studying the video.

“I bet I can get a better angle if I’m holding the phone while I fuck you,” he muses, and Chris smirks.

“Are you saying you’d be able to focus on camera angles and fuck me at the same time? I know I’m more distracting than that.”

“Camera angles are serious business, Christophe Giacometti,” Phichit mock-scolds. “This, though…” on the screen, Chris is manhandling Phichit upright, and Phichit licks his lips absently as he watches. “This part looks great.” They’re both quiet, watching, and Phichit makes a soft noise as Chris licks his hand clean on the screen. He hits pause, setting his phone carefully to one side, then turns in Chris’s arms and bears him down into the mattress before kissing him thoroughly, biting roughly at his lips. Chris only breaks the kiss for the necessity of breathing, and Phichit rests his head against his shoulder, gasping quietly. They’re both running on the dregs of adrenaline now, and Chris can’t quite fight a yawn.

“So I’d give us a +2 on our grade of execution overall,” Phichit says brightly into the silence between them, and Chris groans at the bad joke, batting at Phichit’s shoulder with a lazy hand. “A stationary camera was a beginner’s mistake. We’ll have to try it the other way next time.” He yawns, then flops over next to Chris, still muttering something about better methods, his words starting to slur together.

This would probably be a good time to bring up the lack of explicit definition in their relationship, considering they’re both automatically assuming that there will be a next time without having to even think about it - and have been for months, if he’s being honest - but fuck it. Chris can feel sleep sneaking up on him even as they pretend to argue about camera angles, and he blearily rolls over, slinging an arm over Phichit and pulling him in closer. They can talk about it later.

And then they wake up, watch the video again, and go for round two. Chris continues avoiding having to talk about feelings. THE END. Title comes from Brooklyn Nine-Nine because I think I’m funny.

Apologies. I typed that late and followed the way the comment above mine was set.

OP here and AHHHHHHH I LOVE IT!! It's so playful and fun and amazing. You're my favorite nonny right now! <3

That night, they exit late and tipsy, waving cheery goodnights to their friends though it’s technically morning. “Wait—gotta shut the door,” Viktor says, extricating himself from his fiancé and closing the door carefully. Someone hoots at that, probably Chris.

There are skilful fingers slipping inside his robe before he can respond.

“Yurachka,” he says softly and turns his head. Yuuri’s eyes are half-closed, mouth open and red, hair carelessly pushed back.

“Hm, darling?” Yuuri breathes into his ear and curls his leg around his like a tail, “Have something to say, sweetheart?” Viktor feels like putty.

“N-no,” He’s blushing hard and his blood rushes down fast enough to leave him dizzy, “Yuuri.”

He leans up and kisses him. Viktor immediately reciprocates, tongue reaching out for more and lips desperate and sloppy but Yuuri pulls back. He makes a needy noise and Yuuri laughs. He slowly undoes his tie and lets the robe partially fall from his shoulder and tilts his head, “On the bed.”

Viktor nods and almost trips on the carpet. Yuuri’s sauntering around in the room, opening drawers, “Lube, lube..” and Viktor knows, Viktor knows he’s perfectly aware of where they’ve kept it. “Eyes away from me, gorgeous,” Yuuri says, sing-song.

Viktor grits his teeth and buries his face in the pillow, facing away.

There’s the hand, again. Resting cool on his nape. Yuuri asks him to turn, and he obeys. They’re looking at each other now, his hair’s partially fallen on his forehead, and he glasses are gone. “Tease,” Viktor accuses, raising his hands and keeping them secure over his head.

And Yuuri blinks. It fades. A blush blooms across his cheeks like a bruise, “I—uh,” He says, looking away, hand fisting over his thighs.

Viktor’s eyes goes soft, “C’mere,” He says, and pulls him close. Yuuri goes willingly and they kiss, again, this time he’s the one deciding the pace, and he’s deciding to keep it slow. “My beautiful tease,” he says between kisses, taking the lube from his hand and keeping it aside. Yuuri’s hands seek out his body again, and his hips press down on his to rub their cocks together and Viktor hisses like burned.

“Wrists back in place, Viktor.”

Later, much later, he’s boneless in Yuuri’s arms with a satisfying ache radiating through his arse and hips. “Do you, um—do you need anything? Water?” Yuuri pets him, so gentle, “I mean, I know you like it a little rough but, um.”

Viktor turns and hugs him closer, smiling into his neck, “It was perfect.”

The wedding’s tomorrow, they’re still sorting out the main hall. Yuuri’s still doubtful if the water theme had been the right choice, despite how adamant he’d been when he’d picked it.

Viktor thinks it’s perfect.

“Vicchan! there’s someone waiting for you in the lobby,” Hiroko says, in slow Japanese. She goes away with a carton of streamers.

He’s a little confused until he reaches the place.

The lobby is filled with people rushing about, except one woman in the corner, studying an ornate bow. She’s tall, taller than Viktor, with long silver hair.

“Tosya!”

“Vitya!” She smiles when she sees him and walks towards him, “It’s been such a long time,” She says and hugs him for a moment before letting go, “congratulations.”

“I didn’t think you’d make it.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s your wedding! I got lost on the way, though I admit. Is auntie here yet?”

He nods, “Yes, mummy came yesterday. Are you alone or with family?”

“Sasha’ll be here in the evening. I packed a suit for him, in case he messes up the outfit too badly,” Tosya laughs, “Anyway, that’s not important. I want to meet the boy who stole your heart.”

“Yuuri slept in, but he should be out any minute,” Viktor says, “You’ll love him.”

They decide to have breakfast together, or at least, it’s breakfast for Yuuri. Viktor keeps stealing glances. “So, Yuuri. Meet my cousin, Antonina Petrov. And Antonina, this is Yuuri.”

She looks faintly amused and a little curious, “Hello.”

Yuuri’s nervous, “Hello!”

“I suppose auntie’s already given you the speech. I don’t need to repeat it, do I?” She says, sipping her tea, focusing entirely on him, eyes unblinking. Viktor know how that feels and he feels a little sorry.

“You don’t. I’ll never do anything to hurt him.”

She leans in a bit, “That’s not very convincing.”

Yuuri startles, but then his eyes go hard, “I don’t think you’re the one I need to convince, quite honestly.”

She smiles wider. Viktor’s attention shifts. “Excellent! Now that’s taken care of, has anyone shown you his childhood photos, yet? He was adorable .”

Tosya and he get along well, but he can still detect the vein of ice between them. He eats and is summoned by Mari to meet some guests. Viktor immediately turns to her, “What was that?”

“I’m sorry for making fun of you.”

Viktor frowns, “What?”
“You know?” She gestures vaguely, “Right after—Sochi? Yes, Sochi. When you were constantly gushing about him. You never really had a chance, cousin dear.”

It takes a minute. Viktor swallows and his palms get sweaty, “Is there,” His voice goes softer, “Is there something I should know about Yuuri? Something he hasn’t told me?”

“Oh, Vitenka,” She says, “That boy couldn’t hide a thing from you if he tried, he’s head over heels. But he can’t tell you what he doesn’t know.”

Tosya props her chin on her knuckles, “I’m going to get you a late wedding present. I think you’ll find it very useful.”

“Veelas.”

“Excuse me?”

“Veelas. They’re part of slavic folklore,” Viktor says, looking up. He’d read the page so often that the book now naturally fell open to it, “They’re like sirens, except they use their dance to enchant humans and can turn into vicious harpies when angered.”

Yuuri settles in beside him, pressing their sides together so he doesn’t fall of. The book’s beautiful, really. Leather bound, and illustrated. He reads the text, “they sound a little like Ningyo,” he murmurs, and then focuses on the illustration.

It’s a woman, with light coloured hair and striking features, swaying her hips and men gathering around her with entranced expressions. Yuuri strokes the drawing, his fingers stopping at the hair of the veela.

“They sound a little like you.”

And Viktor just laughs.

(sorry, idk how to work dreamwidth, the order got messed up)

That night, they exit late and tipsy, waving cheery goodnights to their friends though it’s technically morning. “Wait—gotta shut the door,” Viktor says, extricating himself from his fiancé and closing the door carefully. Someone hoots at that, probably Chris.

There are skilful fingers slipping inside his robe before he can respond.

“Yurachka,” he says softly and turns his head. Yuuri’s eyes are half-closed, mouth open and red, hair carelessly pushed back.

“Hm, darling?” Yuuri breathes into his ear and curls his leg around his like a tail, “Have something to say, sweetheart?” Viktor feels like putty.

“N-no,” He’s blushing hard and his blood rushes down fast enough to leave him dizzy, “Yuuri.”

He leans up and kisses him. Viktor immediately reciprocates, tongue reaching out for more and lips desperate and sloppy but Yuuri pulls back. He makes a needy noise and Yuuri laughs. He slowly undoes his tie and lets the robe partially fall from his shoulder and tilts his head, “On the bed.”

Viktor nods and almost trips on the carpet. Yuuri’s sauntering around in the room, opening drawers, “Lube, lube..” and Viktor knows, Viktor knows he’s perfectly aware of where they’ve kept it. “Eyes away from me, gorgeous,” Yuuri says, sing-song.

Viktor grits his teeth and buries his face in the pillow, facing away.

There’s the hand, again. Resting cool on his nape. Yuuri asks him to turn, and he obeys. They’re looking at each other now, his hair’s partially fallen on his forehead, and he glasses are gone. “Tease,” Viktor accuses, raising his hands and keeping them secure over his head.

And Yuuri blinks. It fades. A blush blooms across his cheeks like a bruise, “I—uh,” He says, looking away, hand fisting over his thighs.

Viktor’s eyes goes soft, “C’mere,” He says, and pulls him close. Yuuri goes willingly and they kiss, again, this time he’s the one deciding the pace, and he’s deciding to keep it slow. “My beautiful tease,” he says between kisses, taking the lube from his hand and keeping it aside. Yuuri’s hands seek out his body again, and his hips press down on his to rub their cocks together and Viktor hisses like burned.

“Wrists back in place, Viktor.”

Later, much later, he’s boneless in Yuuri’s arms with a satisfying ache radiating through his arse and hips. “Do you, um—do you need anything? Water?” Yuuri pets him, so gentle, “I mean, I know you like it a little rough but, um.”

Viktor turns and hugs him closer, smiling into his neck, “It was perfect.”

The wedding’s tomorrow, they’re still sorting out the main hall. Yuuri’s still doubtful if the water theme had been the right choice, despite how adamant he’d been when he’d picked it.

Viktor thinks it’s perfect.

“Vicchan! there’s someone waiting for you in the lobby,” Hiroko says, in slow Japanese. She goes away with a carton of streamers.

He’s a little confused until he reaches the place.

The lobby is filled with people rushing about, except one woman in the corner, studying an ornate bow. She’s tall, taller than Viktor, with long silver hair.

“Tosya!”

“Vitya!” She smiles when she sees him and walks towards him, “It’s been such a long time,” She says and hugs him for a moment before letting go, “congratulations.”

“I didn’t think you’d make it.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s your wedding! I got lost on the way, though I admit. Is auntie here yet?”

He nods, “Yes, mummy came yesterday. Are you alone or with family?”

“Sasha’ll be here in the evening. I packed a suit for him, in case he messes up the outfit too badly,” Tosya laughs, “Anyway, that’s not important. I want to meet the boy who stole your heart.”

“Yuuri slept in, but he should be out any minute,” Viktor says, “You’ll love him.”

They decide to have breakfast together, or at least, it’s breakfast for Yuuri. Viktor keeps stealing glances. “So, Yuuri. Meet my cousin, Antonina Petrov. And Antonina, this is Yuuri.”

She looks faintly amused and a little curious, “Hello.”

Yuuri’s nervous, “Hello!”

“I suppose auntie’s already given you the speech. I don’t need to repeat it, do I?” She says, sipping her tea, focusing entirely on him, eyes unblinking. Viktor know how that feels and he feels a little sorry.

“You don’t. I’ll never do anything to hurt him.”

She leans in a bit, “That’s not very convincing.”

Yuuri startles, but then his eyes go hard, “I don’t think you’re the one I need to convince, quite honestly.”

She smiles wider. Viktor’s attention shifts. “Excellent! Now that’s taken care of, has anyone shown you his childhood photos, yet? He was adorable .”

Tosya and he get along well, but he can still detect the vein of ice between them. He eats and is summoned by Mari to meet some guests. Viktor immediately turns to her, “What was that?”

“I’m sorry for making fun of you.”

Viktor frowns, “What?”
“You know?” She gestures vaguely, “Right after—Sochi? Yes, Sochi. When you were constantly gushing about him. You never really had a chance, cousin dear.”

It takes a minute. Viktor swallows and his palms get sweaty, “Is there,” His voice goes softer, “Is there something I should know about Yuuri? Something he hasn’t told me?”

“Oh, Vitenka,” She says, “That boy couldn’t hide a thing from you if he tried, he’s head over heels. But he can’t tell you what he doesn’t know.”

Tosya props her chin on her knuckles, “I’m going to get you a late wedding present. I think you’ll find it very useful.”

“Veelas.”

“Excuse me?”

“Veelas. They’re part of slavic folklore,” Viktor says, looking up. He’d read the page so often that the book now naturally fell open to it, “They’re like sirens, except they use their dance to enchant humans and can turn into vicious harpies when angered.”

Yuuri settles in beside him, pressing their sides together so he doesn’t fall of. The book’s beautiful, really. Leather bound, and illustrated. He reads the text, “they sound a little like Ningyo,” he murmurs, and then focuses on the illustration.

It’s a woman, with light coloured hair and striking features, swaying her hips and men gathering around her with entranced expressions. Yuuri strokes the drawing, his fingers stopping at the hair of the veela.

“They sound a little like you.”

And Viktor just laughs.

I love this idea, I may not be able to resist!

Please don't resist, anon! /enable you

I neeeeeed this!

Prompt Post 1

Re: Victor/tentacles, Bahamut Universe; TW: Non-Con

Fill, part 2: Victor/Yuuri - Yuuri is a Veela (HP Wizarding World AU)

Re: Modern ninja! Yuuri

Yuuri Katsuki, the accidental secret keeper

Re: Fill, part 2: Victor/Yuuri - Yuuri is a Veela (HP Wizarding World AU)

Yuuri Katsuki/ Kenjirou Minami

Viktor Nikiforov/MOB + Yuuri Katsuki/Viktor Nikiforov, mentions of rape/non-con

Re: Viktor Nikiforov/MOB + Yuuri Katsuki/Viktor Nikiforov, mentions of rape/non-con

Re: Viktor Nikiforov/MOB + Yuuri Katsuki/Viktor Nikiforov, mentions of rape/non-con

Yuuri/Victor, Victor's tears are magical, TW: violence, hurt/comfort

Re: Viktor Nikiforov/MOB + Yuuri Katsuki/Viktor Nikiforov, mentions of rape/non-con

Re: Viktor Nikiforov/MOB + Yuuri Katsuki/Viktor Nikiforov, mentions of rape/non-con

Re: Yuuri/Victor, Victor's tears are magical, TW: violence, hurt/comfort

Re: Yuri/anyone, Yuri tops!

Yuuri/Victor - tears

Re: Viktor Nikiforov/MOB + Yuuri Katsuki/Viktor Nikiforov, mentions of rape/non-con

Re: Yuuri/Victor - tears

Kind, Sober, and Fully Dressed [Christophe Giacometti/Phichit Chulanont, sex tape]

Re: Yuuri/Victor - tears

Re: Kind, Sober, and Fully Dressed [Christophe Giacometti/Phichit Chulanont, sex tape]

Fill, part 3. Victor/Yuuri - Yuuri is a Veela (HP Wizarding World AU)

Fill, part 3: Victor/Yuuri - Yuuri is a Veela (HP Wizarding World AU)

Re: Yuuri Katsuki, the accidental secret keeper

Re: Yuuri Katsuki, the accidental secret keeper

Re: Yuuri Katsuki/Victor Nikiforov - underage AU, seduction