Prompt Post 1

[makkachin]

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

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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.
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<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

Victor/Yuuri - toy, edging, DP - [FILL] 1/2

[(Anonymous)]

The prompt kinda mutated on me. It's been a while since I wrote smut, so I'm not sure it's as filthy as it should have been, but I hope you like it.


*

They've been at it for hours.

It started with Yuuri pushing him down on the bed, Viktor's laughter at Yuuri's impatience cut off when Yuuri swallowed him at once, and Yuri blowing him hard and fast. It took Yuuri two minutes and nothing but his cheeks hollowed in suction, not a hint of tongue, fingers keeping Viktor's hips tight in place, to suck the orgasm from Viktor's dick, and what felt like Viktor's brains with it. Two minutes and Viktor was undone, breath gone fuck knew where, burning up under his clothes, post-orgasmic before he even knew it.

Yuuri didn't even bother to spit, just swallowed the load. There were a few drops threatening to trickle down at the corner of his lips, shinier than his slick-shiny lips, catching Viktor's eyes. His tongue darted out and swiped it down like he didn't even need to think about it, as he stood up again, pinning Viktor under his gaze, and Viktor thought he was in it for good this time. This was it, he was going to die, pulled apart under Yuuri Katsuki's ruthless mastery of his body, if Yuuri didn't give him a heart attack first.

That didn't happen. Instead Yuuri scrambled to straddle him, the fly of his pants barely open, tented over his hard-on. Viktor lifted a brow, the world made soft and warm with his orgasm, filled with tenderness for Yuuri's impatience even in the face of his imminent demise.

"Need a hand?" He didn't wait for an answer before slipping his fingers down Yuuri's pants, stroking him, marvelling – Yuuri was so hard already, it was going to be amazing.

"Ah—" Yuuri caught his wrist. "—don't."

Viktor looked up at him, smile stilled in confusion. Yuuri's cheeks were bright already, sex flush or blush. Yuuri's bashfulness caught up with him at the most outrageous times, and it was impossibly endearing to see Yuuri barrel through his own inhibitions.

Yuuri licked his lips, more resolved than seductive.

"Let's make this last."

Viktor's breath stuttered, and he nodded in understanding. He was in it for good. Good thing tomorrow was their rest day; when Yuuri choose to make it last, he'd fuck Viktor for hours and hours, long past Viktor started begging for mercy. Viktor never was in a state to skate without embarrassing himself the day after. Not because he'd pull something – god, Yuuri was never more dizziyingly, maddeningly gentle than when he reduced Viktor to a sobbing, whimpering mess, gagging on his own need – but he needed the whole day to become solid again, for his bones and joints and muscles to emerge out of his liquefied state.

Yuuri's Adam apple bobbed.

"Help me get these off," he said, and he sounded wrecked.

It took a while; or at least longer than Viktor thought it would, given Yuuri's earlier urgency. Yuuri was getting distracted taking Viktor's shirt off, running his hands on Viktor's shoulders and down his arms, his chest, again and again. He only helped taking his own pants off when Viktor lifted him, pants and boxers pushed down mid-thighs, and then he rolled off and tore them off.

"Yours, too," Yuuri said, walking around to the bedside table, cock jutting up against his stomach. Viktor swallowed, and looked away, stripping down faster.

The mattress dipped when Yuuri straddled his thighs again. He had the bottle of lube in one hand, the six-inch blue dildo in the other, and an expression that suggested that if the floor opened up under his feet he'd wrestle his own blush into the abyss himself.

"It's. If you want. For me."

Anything.

"Yeah, okay," Viktor agreed, like he would have agreed to any demand Yuuri made with that choked, determined voice, and tried to spread.

The dildo fell from Yuuri's grip and bounced off of Viktor's side. Yuuri put the flat of his hand on Viktor's chest and pushed, stopping him.

Viktor looked up,. He followed the toned lines of Yuuri's arm until he was gazing at Yuuri's face, Yuuri's lips red from the blowjob, hair a mess from shucking his shirt off, his eyes intensely focused.

"I mean I want you to use it on me."


This was three hours ago.

Since then, they've prepped Yuuri up. They've lubed him up, and they've filled him with their fingers, Yuuri's and Viktor's, curling inside Yuuri as his back arched. Yuuri's index finger crooked, forcing Viktor's to bend as well, and Yuuri's breath exploded in tiny, bitten off gasps. They've poured more lube on the dildo, and they've stretched him with it, fucking it slowly in and out, until Yuuri's hole loosened enough that Viktor could position the tip and tuck it in with one smooth slide, watching Yuuri's face for signs of discomfort and only finding naked, hungry bliss.

At some point – Viktor's not sure when, between Viktor slipping in a finger next to the dildo when Yuuri told him to (then another, and another), and Yuuri giving his own balls a brief, sharp squeeze to stall off an orgasm – Viktor got hard again.

Then Yuuri – still propping himself up on Viktor – guided him inside, dislodging the toy off just enough to make room for Viktor's dick to push in. Viktor's cock nudged the toy with every micro-inch he pressed inside, Yuuri's body a furnace around him. Yuuri was gritting his teeth on shouts or whimpers, Viktor too stunned to ask him to let out. He was struck dumb; he could feel the other shaft stuffing Yuuri rubbing against him with every breath either of them took, like a punch low in his belly. Yuuri was bracing himself on Viktor's arms, clasping hard to make up for the sweat he'd worked up, and he worked at sliding down, inch by incremental inch. His eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"You don't have to, Yuuri, we can stop," Viktor babbled.

Yuuri's grip tightened on him in answer. "I can do this. Just stay with me."

"Okay." Viktor ran his hands down Yuuri's chest, the skin hot under his touch, muscles taut. "You've tensed up. Slow down," he said, ignoring the way his dick was pulsating when he thought about Yuuri taking him whole, Yuuri's ass split open on the toy.

Yuuri closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell slowly, until his head was hanging low.

"Maybe push in yourself? I don't have enough hands to hold myself up and fuck myself with the dildo and your cock," he said, short and blunt like he got when sex or skate lit him enough. It made Yuuri an incandescent creature, all laser-like focus and unknown limits, inhibitions blazed away. "Get it in me already."

"My hands and cock are all yours," Viktor promised.

Yuuri let out a silent exhale, maybe a gust of a laugh, that brushed hot against Viktor's skin. Viktor groped for the base of the dildo and held it as he pushed in, slow, slow, and Yuuri pushed out a low, long moan. Halfway in the water in Yuuri's eyes spilled over, and Viktor almost stopped.

"Don't you dare!" Yuuri's voice whipped, rough with effort. "I'll be better when you're in me, it's just frustration."

Viktor opened his mouth to check Yuuri was really sure – Yuuri didn't mind tears in bed, but so far they'd all been Viktor's – but Yuuri cut him off by pushing down, taking him by a good half inch.

"Fuck!" Viktor's hands flew to Yuuri's hips – to steady him – more probably to slam him all the way down, Yuuri was so hot and close and full, Viktor's dick wanted so badly to be inside – but by the time he touched Yuuri's hips he'd come back to his senses. Steady. He breathed in and out. He was the one who needed steadying, more than Yuuri.

Yuuri who smirked.

"Right. Stay just like this, if you can't do as you're told."

"Yes, coach," Viktor replied, lips curled in a smile.

Yuuri huffed. "You do talk back."

"Aren't I good enough to afford to?" As they bantered, Viktor put his fingers on the base of the toy again, so he could hold the toy in place while Yuuri screwed himself down. The tip of his fingers skimmed against Yuuri's rim in time with Yuuri's rocking, feather-light against the tender flesh, and Yuuri hissed every time it happened.

It was the work of minutes that stretched like the most delicious torture until Yuuri finally stopped, seated on Viktor's lap, mouth slack.

"I—oh, god."

Viktor smiled, smug.

Yuuri's throat worked silently for several seconds. His thighs shivered, suddenly free from the exertion of holding him up. Viktor stroked them comfortingly.

"That's it, you're in – you're all inside, right? And the dildo, all of it?"

"Almost," Viktor said, and he finished pushing the toy in as he thrust just slightly out – and then the other way around, out with the toy, in with his dick, just a few millimeters, just enough to cause friction.

Yuuri almost fell down on him.

"Fuck, Vitya, don't--" he braced himself back up. "I don't want to come yet, all right? Let me feel it, I want to enjoy this."

Viktor was sheathed to the balls, a dick-sized dildo snug against him inside Yuuri, so hard he could dril a hole in the plastic, and Yuuri hadn't even come once yet. Was telling him he wasn't planning on coming any time soon. Unreal.

Until he and the dildo had both been buried in Yuuri's ass, he'd had doubts they would even fit. He'd never have said it, of course, not when Yuuri was giving it his all, but he'd seen what size the toy was and he'd remembered how when he's inside Yuuri, he feels the vibrations of Yuuri's noises squeezing around his cock.

Clearly he should have had more faith.

Now they're here, Yuuri riding Viktor, grinding in slow rotations that fill the air with wet sounds, from how much lube they've used and Viktor's precome mixing inside Yuuri and squelching out, the most intimate song of their obscene soundtrack. His hair is slicked back with sweat, his eyes blown-out. He looks like he's going for gold in sex, trying to set a world record for fucking his own brains out. Viktor's the one holding that title, but he'll gladly relinquish it tonight if it means Yuuri making them slowly lose it in this bed.

Viktor's muscles scream for release, palms flat on Yuuri's thighs. Yuuri allows them so long as Viktor keeps still, with no regard for how much Viktor wants to touch him, to run his hands all over him, chase the shivers breaking under his skin and feed them caresses.

His own breathing has grown labored like Yuuri's. He's holding his orgasm in, but at least Yuuri doesn't ask him to also hold his voice in.

"You're amazing, zolotse, you take me so well."

Yuuri's dick dribbles when Viktor praises him, so he makes to swipe the tip with his thumb, but Yuuri seizes his hand and pins it to the bed.

"Do I need to handcuff you?"

Oh, fuck. Heroically, Viktor refrains from ramming up.

Viktor wonsiders calling his bluff; the rhythm of Yuuri's hips is far too regular for for him to be able to up and go all the way to the bedside table, but on the off-chance Yuuri would, he keeps his mouth shut. There's absolutely no way he won't shoot his load if Yuuri goes through the process of fitting him inside again, alongside the dildo. Not for the first time, Viktor wishes Yuuri believed in cock rings.

"No. Sorry."

"I want to come just from your cock," Yuuri says, and Viktor's dick pulsates. Yuuri's eyes widen – he's definitely felt it – and his hand trembles when he reaches up, fingers of his right hand lacing with Viktor's, fingers of his left hand curling to brush Viktor's cheek. "Can you do that for me?"

Viktor takes a deep breath. Tears his eyes away from Yuuri's painfully red dick, and the way it visibly throbs when Viktor nods. Tries for a smile that probably comes off watery.

Yuuri starts moving again, slow, bends until he can whisper in Viktor's ear. "Tell me again how good I am."

This time, Viktor's laughter comes out broken.

"You're going to kill me, Yuuri. Do you know what you do to me? I want you to use me until you can feel the memory of me when you dream. I want to fill you up until you're never empty again."

Yuuri sobs. "Not yet, not--"

He's been teetering on the brink of orgasm for hours now, teasing himself with Viktor and denying both of them. Each of his gasps comes more ragged than the previous, drives him down deeper onto Viktor's cock; Viktor can feel Yuuri's breathing through his dick, through how close they are to each other. Yuuri's thighs, framing Viktor's sides, are trembling with the strain.

At first he'd welcome Viktor's attempts to turn him on further, be it with small touches or with encouragements, but now it seems even that's too much. He's slapped his hand on Viktor's mouth, and so close, Viktor can see how Yuuri's pupils have eaten his irises, nothing left but a thin, burning circle of brown, like the halo of a solar eclipse. If it means going blind watching him, Viktor won't tear his eyes away.

"If you make me come before I say so," Yuuri breathes out, "you're not coming at all." He takes a breath, licks his lips. "Nod if you get it."