yurionicekink | Prompt Post 1

Prompt Post 1

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.
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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.
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_{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}

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

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The leader forced Victor into a kiss, and he went quiet, deflated. Yakov felt sicker than he had been the whole time he'd been touching Victor, knowing that he was about watch Victor get forced down and raped by these awful people, that there was nothing else he could do about it. (Goddamn fucking useless police.)

Then the leader abruptly drew back and slapped Victor across the face, so hard he stumbled and fell to the floor. Yakov took a step forward, only to be stopped by the woman's grip on his elbow. "The kid bit me," the leader spat, a hand up at his mouth.

"I thought we gave him to his coach to soften him up!"

"Yeah, shouldn't he be fighting less, not more?"

"Shouldn't have given them so long afterward."

"Nah, should have had him suck him off, that would have shown him."

Victor climbed back to his feet by himself, just before someone came and grabbed him again. He stood there, visibly trembling, glaring, tears glinting in his eyes but not spilling from them. He probably shouldn't have done that, but Yakov couldn't help but feel a little proud of him anyway. The leader stepped forward and gripped Victor's hair again, not smiling, meeting Victor's glare. "Don't make this harder for yourself, pretty," he murmured, and the rest of the room quieted down.

They went just quiet enough that Yakov realized he could hear distant shouting. He wasn't the only one. A young man – very young, he could have been Victor's age – standing by the door turned, curious, then went to peer down the hall.

The leader took longer to notice, but he'd dropped his hands from Victor's hair by the time the young man ducked his head back into the room. "Boss, looks like there's trouble."

"You take care of him," the leader snapped, shoving Victor into the person holding him, who promptly passed him on to the same woman who had cut his shirt, and went to investigate. She herself didn't look particularly eager to hang back.

Yakov glanced over at the door and saw the woman who had been standing next to him now crowding around the entrance with everyone else (and still holding her gun incorrectly, nevermind that she was going to shoot someone on her own side if she kept waving it around like that. Not that Yakov would be upset if she did).

He took a cautious step over and found that absolutely nobody was paying him any attention. He took another, and the woman holding onto Victor – who was still squirming in her grip, trying to pry her off – gave him a long look. Then she shoved Victor at him, giving him a look like I already know you're not going to get him killed, so don't before going to join the rest of their kidnappers.

Victor cried out and tried to pull away before he seemed to realize who it was he'd been pushed into and blinked, looking more than a little confused. Yakov hastily pulled him into the nearest corner. "Watch your feet," he said, trying to shove the larger pieces of rebar and chips of concrete out of his way with his shoes. As soon as they were reasonably well into the corner, and thus far away from the commotion at the door, he said, "Show me your hands."

Victor did so; Yakov pinned his coat underneath his arm and untied them. It took a little more than two seconds, but not much more. He didn't wait for Victor to finish rolling out his shoulders, rubbing at his wrists, making tiny pained sounds, before he settled his coat over Victor's shoulders. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.

He wanted to look Victor over, to check he wasn't hurt, but there was nothing to do for him right now if he was, and he could go a few moments without Yakov trying to touch him, so he merely watched as Victor shook out his hands, rubbed at his shoulders, before reaching up to clasp at the coat. Yakov was about to grumble about how there were buttons, he didn't have to hold it closed (and maybe start doing them up for him), when a gunshot from the hall made him flinch.

"Get down," he snapped when Victor tried to peer around him to see what was going on. Victor came down to the floor with him, still trying to see, until the second shot made him jump and he opted to bury his head in Yakov's chest instead.

Yakov draped an arm around him, careful. It was something of a relief that at least for now, Victor didn't seem to be wary of him. He tried to get a glance at what was happening himself, but most of their captors had disappeared by now, and this angle wasn't a good one.

But it seemed that the police were finally doing their goddamn jobs and had finally shown up. There was more shouting, not so many gunshots as he might have expected. He and Victor stayed put while the voices outside rose and fell, until people who were not their captors entered the room and came over to confirm their safety.

Yakov helped Victor to his feet, and when he still kept holding on to the coat, began to do up the buttons before he froze to death. "Ah," Victor said as he started to button them, like he hadn't even noticed the buttons were there, and watched him do half the rest before shrugging his arms into the sleeves.

Now, it seemed, there was a lot of talking to do – to the police who whisked them to a warmer, less debris-filled room, to the medical staff who declared him to be fine. They seemed less sure about Victor, who besides looking like he'd probably been assaulted, had also gotten thrown around and banged up more than Yakov had.

But Victor didn't want to go to the hospital. "I want to go home," he insisted stubbornly even as one of the medical people brought Yakov over after asking if he might talk some sense into Victor. He cast Yakov a pleading look. Someone had given him a blanket, which he had draped over his lap, and his hands were clutching at it.

Of course he wanted to go home. Yakov sat carefully beside him – not too close – and said, "Vitya," which made him look away, which sent a tiny stab into Yakov's overworked heart. It was tempting to indulge him, but.... "Do you want to end up skating on an injury that needs to be treated and make it worse?"

As the seconds of silence ticked on, he ignored the look from the man standing next to them and waited for Victor to finally go, "No." He glanced up at Yakov again. "I don't have to," he started to say, stopped, and then asked, "But we can go home after that? After they check my x-rays or whatever?"

Yakov nodded. Another thought came. "And I'll call someone to look in on the dog, so don't go worrying about her," he added.

The corner of Victor's mouth twitched up for a moment. "Right, Makkachin's probably getting hungry." And then he looked away. Looked up at the man from EMS who was waiting. "Okay," he said.

He should have been feeding his dog right now, not trying to reassure someone that no, he hadn't hit his head that hard, his face so calm given what had just happened. Feeding his dog and fawning over her and using that ridiculous baby talk on her that Yakov could recognize from several rooms over.

Yakov hoped that their captors would pay for what they had done to them.

The police weren't done asking him questions, so Yakov started to rise; Victor's hand grabbing at his sleeve stopped him. "You'll be with me at the hospital," Victor said, halfway between a statement and a question, a thread of uncertainty in his voice.

He looked at Victor's hand and tried not to think about his own hands on Victor's skin. "Of course," he said gruffly. "Unless you wanted me to call your parents—" and given past experience with Victor and injuries and illness, he wasn't too surprised at the frantic way Victor shook his head. "Then let me go finish with them," he said, his voice coming out softer than he meant for it to.

Victor's hand tightened. Then it relaxed, let go. Yakov left him to the medical professionals and ignored the part of him that still wanted to check Victor over himself, as though he'd only fallen down a flight of stairs like he had last month. Then, Victor had acted impatient with him, but hadn't actually pushed as Yakov made sure that he wasn't hurt worse than a skinned knee and a bruised arm. Now, he slowly pulled his arms from the coat's sleeves and answered questions far too quietly as his wrists and hands were inspected.

Yakov turned away and went back to the questions and the talking. He had done what he could for the both of them, and Victor seemed to be doing well at holding up for now. Victor probably wasn't injured, and it appeared he didn't hate Yakov for what he had done; Yakov thought tiredly of how things could have turned out much worse, and then tried not to think of that, but of how in some hours they could go home.

OP here, thank you so, so much for this awesome story. I hopefully have told you before but I need to tell you again how much I love your writing style and your characterizations.

I'm really glad for both Yakov and Victor that the police did come in time to spare them from even more suffering and that Victor still looked to Yakov for comfort and security afterwards.

Thank you <3

PS: Will you, by any chance, upload this story on AO3?

Thank you for your kind comments, OP! I'm so glad to hear that you liked it.

I do plan on uploading it to AO3, but it may be a few days as I am currently traveling and have limited internet access from my laptop. I'll drop a link on the Fills post when I do so.

Excellent story. I really felt for Yakov here, and Victor.

Thank you!

I'm glad this got finished. Good job.

Thank you!

Ack, it's taken me so long to leave a comment on the final chapter, sorry! ;_;

But I love this so much!! I was eagerly reading every update as soon as it came out, and you never disappointed. Every word was so painful but fuck if I don't love whump. But I love how Victor still has his fighting spirit (yes, bite him!!), and getting Yakov's perspective on being forced to have sex with Victor... hating that it feels good, trying to do what he can to protect Victor in such an impossible situation. It's wonderful.

Aw, thank you so much, I'm glad you liked it.

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Prompt Post 1

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Re: Any/Any, Fuck or Die and/or Bad guys made them do it - Fill, Ashes on the Water [4b/4]