GET YURIO LAID! He’s a very good boy and he’s had a very tough year. This is all healthy, life-affirming porn here:
Explicit, 1570 words. Texting turns into flirting turns into sexting. Cringingly realistic depiction of teenage awkwardness and nervous excitement, and so funny (and so, so hot). Comes with a smutty sequel, [eggplant emoji].
The picture comes out pretty good, Yuri decides, slapping a filter on it and sending it before he gets cold feet. He'd do himself, probably. Maybe Otabek would do him too.
He puts his shirt back on and buries his face in the pillow. Ugh, feelings. They're the worst. Why does Otabek have to have that serious, cute, seriously cute face, and that ass? Why does his opinion have to matter so much to Yuri?
When his phone dings, Yuri has to take some deep cleansing breaths before he can look at it. But when he does --
holy shit. I want to make you look like that
Mature, 5007 words. Another long-distance phone sex fic, in an alternate timeline where Yuri doesn’t medal at the GPF, and Otabek does. Achingly lovely.
After that, Otabek starts sending Yuri more pictures of himself. Shots at the rink; a video clip, short and shaky, of him not quite landing a quad Lutz. In front of a Tim Hortons, making a face at a cup of coffee while two girls laugh at him. That one, Otabek captions, don’t worry, they’re dating each other. Yuri sends back do you think you’re funny, and, because words alone cannot capture the depth of his disdain, refuses to answer Otabek’s messages for three days.
He doesn’t send back pictures often. Otabek follows him on Instagram, anyway, and it seems like admitting something to take photographs just for him. So he mostly just talks: short, idle thoughts he drops into the ether. What’s Canada’s deal with this Tim Horton guy. Beat Georgi at nationals. Do you like cats.
Explicit, 14526 words. More long-distance fic, in which Yuri keeps dropping hints. Suuuuper hot, and also comes with a deliciously dirty sequel, you catch on like a bonfire.
Otabek looks at the clock; it’s past two a.m. in Saint Petersburg. He had no idea they’ve been talking this long.
“Do you wanna—” Yuri starts at the same time as Otabek says, “Are you planning on staying upright tomorrow in practice? Because that might be a problem if we keep this up.”
Yuri snorts unattractively. “Please, I could keep myself upright in my sleep. My balance is amazing.”
Otabek remembers the wide-eyed, bird-boned boy, executing a perfect arabesque so effortlessly it almost made him cry, the shame of his own inadequacy burning in his throat.
Of course.
Explicit, 15485 words. Three years on, Yuri is living with Victor and Yuuri when he confesses something to Otabek. Gorgeous pining, flawless characterization, and one of my favorite Yuuri+Yurio scenes EVER:
Katsuki watches him carefully. “Teach you,” he repeats, like a statement rather than a question.
“Yes. How to…how to do that. Everything you know.” Yuri swallows, and then reaches out and rests a couple of fingers on Katsuki’s knee. Those big, dark eyes go wide suddenly, as he realizes what Yuri means.
To his credit, Katsuki a couple of years ago would have probably jumped a foot in the air, screamed, left a pig-shaped hole in the farthest wall in his haste to get away. But he's changed since coming to Saint Petersburg. He's more relaxed, smiles more, makes more stupid jokes. Even so, he draws in a long, unsteady inhale, and says quietly, “Oh, Yurio, no.”
Explicit, 10456 words. Otabek is clueless, so Yuri decides to make his meaning clear by taking Otabek “on the date of a lifetime … He’s going to date the shit out of Otabek.” Funny and awkward!
“Are you actually going to eat any of that?” Otabek asks when Yuri buys a large popcorn, Milk Duds, an Icee with every flavor, and a questionable-looking hotdog.
“I’m going to eat all of this,” Yuri says. “In about thirty seconds. As soon as we sit down.”
They find their seats. Otabek moves to push the armrest between them down and before Yuri can even think about it, he backhands it into the upright position. The corners of Otabek’s mouth turn up very slightly, but he doesn’t say anything about it.
BONUS:
General Audiences, 5799 words. Yuri and Otabek are dating, but Yuri hasn’t gotten laid yet. The gang attempts to help. No actual porn, but a hilarious ensemble fic, in which everyone is delightful.
v-nikiforov: The purpose of this chat is to get Yurio laid!
yuri-plisetsky has left the chat.
Go forth and shower these writers with praise!
I said last time that I wanted to do more first-time recs, which I almost completely fucked up. Sorry?
Teen and Up, 5880 words. Victor and Yuuri aren’t speaking the same language. Lovely, lyrical examination of their relationship’s evolution from Victor’s POV.
Yuuri seems to communicate best through euphemism, through metaphor, through talking around the subject rather than approaching it head on, and so Victor tries his best to mimic him, to take his words and echo them back. If Victor lets Yuuri set their pace, lets him choose how to frame the conversation, Yuuri stops shrinking away. If Victor meets Yuuri where he is instead of bounding ahead and hoping he’ll catch up, Yuuri inches incrementally closer, closes the space between them. So Victor lets Yuuri set the starting conditions (Yuuri is katsudon) and Victor will mirror that back to him with modification (Victor loves katsudon). It’s a convoluted method of communication, especially given that neither of them are speaking their native languages, but after so long dashing ahead and looking back to see Yuuri running away, Victor will take anything that works.
Mature, 2924 words. Victor gets a tattoo. Yuuri gets publicly embarrassed. Funny and charming.
“You’re so cruel,” says Victor. “Of course I’m not skating in a wedding outfit. That’s for our wedding skate.”
“Wedding skate?” says Yuuri, and eyes Victor suspiciously. Unfortunately it is completely impossible to tell the difference between Victor’s joking grin and his I-am-deadly-serious grin. “Victor, are we doing a wedding skate?”
Teen and Up, 7237 words. Another beautiful story about languages, really nice domestic fluff featuring the whole Team Russia ensemble.
Victor speaks Russian with him at the rink too, unless it’s easier to get Yuuri to understand something in English or Japanese, and even when he’s tapping his foot in full, calculating coach mode it’s an education in Russian zoology. Yuuri is porosyonok when he flubs his third jump of the day, ribka when he struggles to articulate the changes he wants to make to his step sequence for the free skate, voronyonok as Victor buttons up his new black wool coat against the winter cold.
He laughs, though, when Yuuri asks him what kind of animal a kotletka is.
“Oh, a very fierce and dangerous one. Your mother hunts them down every week at Super Yuki and smothers them to death with egg and dashi.”
Yuuri tries to mitigate his blush with an eye roll. “Did you have to start calling me a katsudon in multiple languages?”
Explicit, 2875 words. Crazy-hot first-time PWP. Best tag: “Yuuri Katsuki: Craving Cock Since 2007.”
Almost half his life has been spent training for the day that Victor Nikiforov takes him to bed, so when it finally happens after the Grand Prix Final, Yuuri's prepared. More than prepared: he's ready. No one's ever touched him as a lover, sure, but there's nothing that he hasn't already dreamed about doing or having done to him to make anything that could happen a shock.
But he's said it before and he'll say it again: Victor lives to surprise him.
Explicit, 9086 words. Three times Yuuri and Victor had sex. Hot and funny and adorable.
"You're gorgeous," Victor said, making Yuuri squirm even harder. Victor laid two fingers against Yuuri's collarbone and dragged them slowly, slowly down to his stomach. "All mine. My delicious katsudon."
"Stop bringing that up," Yuuri huffed. "You're the idiot asking me about eros when you knew I'd never had a…" Yuuri hesitated. He'd never had an anything.
"Boyfriend," Victor finished. "Well, you've got a boyfriend now, haven't you? We can talk more about your eros now, if you want."
Go, enjoy, and comment!
Filling this journal with more Content ... Victor Nikiforov/Yuri Plisetsky, because I’ve been telling Melody how fascinated I am by their relationship and although I honestly (!) really truly (!!) meant it in that one-sided angry crush/idol/older brother kind of way, this totally works too. (And I would still like to do something with the other thing! Eventually! Ahhhhh too many ideas/too much fic) Obvious warning is obvious: these are all set in/before canon, with everyone’s ages the same, and you’ll probably end up hating Victor a little.
Teen and Up, 3213 words. AU where Victor is tasked with coaching/mentoring Yuri, who he meets for the first time as Yuri makes his senior debut.
“What do you want?” Yuri’s gaze falls somewhere down and to the side, scowl now armed with a layer of unease. “Are we supposed to be friends now?”
Just because Viktor showed him a bare minimum of empathy, and slapped a bandaid over a cut? It’s impossible to say what answer Yuri is waiting for, and which one he’s dreading. Viktor gives him a wide, amicable smile that he knows must ring false. Perhaps a little vacant.
“Friends? Don’t be absurd. We’re teammates.”
He watches Yuri swallow, compulsively, as if it hurts him to do it.
Mature, 4208 words. Pre-series, with flirting, public teasing, and a bit of exhibitionism.
Victor was turned away again, absorbed – or at least pretending to be – in what the representative was saying. Not for long. Yuri slouched in his seat a little, working the shoe off his right foot. Then he just needed to extend his leg out a bit and—
Yuri hid his laugh in a cough as Victor let out an undignified gasp, and watched the colour flood his cheeks. Yakov was looking at Victor like he was crazy, and it was far too entertaining watching him try to recover his composure, all while Yuri was still rubbing his toes gently along the line of Victor’s inner thigh.
Mature, 1834 words. After Hot Springs on Ice, Yuri goes back to St. Petersburg, where he keeps texting Victor back in Hasetsu.
He considers digging out a dance belt, then decides—and heat runs down his spine— to skip it. His costume hangs in his closet. As he shimmies into it, he’s glad it doesn’t have any sequins or crystals that he can accidentally pop off. (Agape is stressful to get into. Well made as it is, Yuri’s always very careful. He doesn’t want to pay for repairs.) He runs his hands over his body, checking for wrinkles, and arranges the collar just so.
Something about the slick, clinging fabric holds him together. His nerves coalesce into pure excitement. Victor wants to talk to him, and Yuri’s going to get what he wants from him. Just as soon as he decides exactly what that is.
Explicit, 5454 words. Yuri is pushy and goes after Victor with a vengeance. Very underage.
"Yura," he says, teasing. "Your face is so red! Are you jealous?"
"Like I'd be jealous of a loser like that," Yuri snarls. He is jealous. He knows he's jealous. But like hell is he going to let Viktor see it.
Viktor ruffles his hair, like Yuri is a little kid. "Maybe next time, hm? See you on the plane, I have interviews."
Yuri can tell it's a joke, that Viktor isn't taking him seriously, and probably won't until Yuri debuts in Seniors and knocks him off the top of the podium.
Yuri isn't going to wait until then to have Viktor take him seriously, and he isn't going to wait to get what he wants, either.
Explicit, 2211 Words. Complex, very dark, very underage. Read if you feel like getting gut-punched!
The best thing about Victor is that he doesn’t nag. For example, if Yuri complains about school to his grandpa, he’d most likely get I wish you would apply yourself better, Yura! Skating isn’t forever, you should think about the rest of your life! Tch. Like skating is some baby phase to be indulged.
When he complains to Victor, Victor tells him to start talking to some loser who does his homework, and copy. If you can win the Olympics, you’re not going to need her stupid math. Networking is much more important for real success.
Yuri sits astride his thighs and thinks, Damn right. Grandpa doesn’t know much about real life anyway.
(My personal headcanon is that Victor Would Never, and Yuri eventually realizes that Victor and Yuuri are his friends and they love him, but never in that way, and he gets over his ragecrushes on both of them (with the help of time and his age-appropriate Kazakh boyfriend, natch) and they all live happily ever after, and Yuri sleeps over in their guest room at least once a week and goes back to Japan with them every chance he gets and cries at their wedding. But a great story can convince me of just about anything, and these are all great stories. Go and leave their authors some love.)
I forgot to post these to DW! Some sweet, charming “first kiss” stories. Filthy hardcore porn to follow. *thumbs-up emoji*
Teen and Up, 2736 words. Chris won’t let Yuri into the GPF banquet after-party, and neither will anyone else. I could gush forever about Hal’s Yuri voice; she writes a note-perfect awkward adolescent rage machine.
"They wouldn't fucking let me in!" There were other chairs, but Yuri was already there, so he sat down on the edge of Otabek's, feet on the ground, back to Otabek. "Like I'm some kid!" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to snatch them back so they couldn't get to Otabek's ears. Now that's what he would think too, Yuri's such a child, too young to hang out with. "No one's even posting any pictures!"
"There's an email list for photos. I'll send them to you if you really want to see."
"You're on the list?"
"I keep trying to unsubscribe."
(Also check out Gross by the same author, an “everyone thinks they’re dating” fic, with clueless Yuri, which is similarly delightful and hilarious.)
Teen and Up, 2407 words. In which Yuri starts to figure some shit out. Also there’s Yuuri and Victor, fashion advice from Christophe, and a scene at a gay club, which, hallelujah. Fantastic Yuri POV.
Yuri and Otabek are at a restaurant, lingering over their sodas, talking about the future. "I want to make Kazakhstan proud of me," Otabek says, toying with his straw, "and I want to play the perfect set." He takes a long drink of soda and raises his eyebrows at Yuri.
Yuri has dreams -- awesome dreams -- but what comes out of his mouth is, "I want to have sex."
Otabek's soda sprays out of his nose.
General Audiences, 4840 words. Yuri makes Otabek download Snapchat while they’re in different countries. Comes with wonderful social media fanart, which is my primary form of sustenance these days.
They send photos back and forth as they walk, sharing scenery from their respective parks, using the flash when the lighting is too poor. It has Yuri smiling at his phone for the entire walk, until Otabek reluctantly heads home so he can go to bed. Yuri sighs once they've exchanged good night messages, tucking his phone back into his pocket.
He looks up to find Victor and Yuuri watching him with identical smiles.
"What?" he asks, belatedly realising that he's been so distracted for the entire walk that he's somehow forgotten to be annoyed at their displays of affection.
"I'm glad you're having a good time, Yurio," Victor says with a wink.
With a growl of frustration, Yuri turns around and goes straight home.
Teen and Up, 10215 words. Yuri experiments with kissing, learns how terrifying his fans can be, and realizes he has a giant, moon-size crush on Otabek fucking Altin. Great dialogue and funny, too.
‘Yuri, I,’ Otabek says, and frees one of his hands to scruff his hair awkwardly. This is more endearing than it ought to be. ‘I didn’t expect this.’
‘Neither did I.’ Yuri folds his arms. ‘This genius plan just occurred to me now.’
‘I wanted… I wanted to be friends.’ Otabek says this rapidly, looking down as he does, like it’s an embarrassing fact.
‘We are friends,’ Yuri points out. ‘We shook hands on it.’
‘I’m concerned this might… affect that. Our friendship.’
‘We only just started our friendship. We can be friends who make out.’ Christophe’s got lots of friends he makes out with - all signs point to this list shortly expanding to include Katsuki and Viktor simultaneously. Yuri thinks he can have one making-out friend, at least.
General Audiences, 4415 words. Yuri introduces his new friend to his grandpa, who makes some assumptions. Awkward and sweet.
"Yeah," Yuri replies. "We're gonna play video games now."
"Yes, yes." A slight pause. Is it Yuri's imagination or is Grandfather's face slightly red? "But, Yurochka… keep the door open, okay?"
"Huh?"
Yuri gives his grandfather a questioning look, then shoots a glance at Otabek, who is wearing his blankest expression, so maybe he hasn't understood either.
"Don't get me wrong, I like your young man," Grandfather continues. "But you're still only sixteen, so while you're under my roof, keep the bedroom door open."
Go, enjoy, and comment!
For Izzy! After putting this together I realized these are all established relationship stories, which … I guess comes with the territory, but next time I’ll try to summon up some first-time fics for ya.
Mature, 12773 words. Back in St. Petersburg with Yuuri, Victor struggles to come back to what he left behind. Painfully realistic and beautiful.
In the afterglow of the Grand Prix Final, the idea of coaching and competing simultaneously had seemed... not easy, precisely, but doable with hard work. Anything worth doing took hard work, and Victor was an optimist by nature. Kneeling on the floor rinkside, with Yuuri straddling his lap, he had been certain that he could make it work. Only now he could not remember exactly how he had intended to do it.
Mature, 2904 words. There's two types of dates Victor and Yuri go on in St. Petersburg. Charming and sexy. I love lazulisong’s voice.
Victor has not said, but Yuri has concluded that Victor fucked his way through a lot of beautiful people in places like this. It's fine, of course, but Yuri always feels like wrapping his palm around Victor's tie when they see one of Victor's "old friends", feels like making sure they know who, exactly, Victor kisses early in the morning, murmurs quietly to until Yuri blinks sleep out of his eyes. Who Victor falls asleep with. Who caught Victor, and means to keep him.
Explicit, 1340 words.
God, the things they’re going to do together.
Pure fucking porn. For incendiary smut, read anything by this author, you can’t go wrong.
“Oh my god,” Victor whispers, because the big guy upstairs could’ve given him a little warning. Victor, I have given you Yuuri Katsuki, for he completes the other half of your soul and also sucks cock like the world is ending.
General Audiences, 7609 words. Yuuri’s mother waits for Yuuri and Victor to come home from Barcelona after the Grand Prix Final. Utterly gorgeous and heartbreaking.
The exhibition skate, with the ghost of silver still around Yuuri’s neck, is something else. Her heart aches as she watches her son skate to Victor’s old program. Hiroko can’t remember the music - she never saw Victor skate it originally, but she recognizes Yuuri’s dance for what it is. The longing, the loneliness, the way he looks for someone…
When Victor joins him on the ice, Hiroko forgets to breathe. The smile remains. No one sees the tears resting on her eyelashes. No one looks at her – why should anyone look at her? They are all in awe, their eyes glued to the television. Her tears never fall. Her smile never falters.
She knows then. She knows without a single doubt.
Mature, 11790 words. Gorgeous slice-of-life of Yuuri settling into St. Petersburg, with gorgeous instagram-style artwork.
It still feels strange, though, and almost inappropriate to hang the jackets and sweaters he’s owned since he was eighteen, worn and soft with age, next to Victor’s Burberry coats and Armani suits. More than anything else, this is what hammers home the message that the two of them come from two completely different worlds.
And yet—Victor came to Hasetsu with the force of a hurricane and managed to make himself right at home at Yu-topia, somehow fitting into the quiet rhythm of their lives. Maybe this means that Yuuri will fit into Victor’s life in Saint Petersburg, too, against all odds or reason. Yu-topia, somehow fitting into the quiet rhythm of their lives. Maybe this means that Yuuri will fit into Victor’s life here, too, against all odds or reason.
Go give the authors some love!
In an attempt to use this space more and also to low-key recruit everyone I know into loving Yuri on Ice, here is a recs post I just made (on Tumblr, sorry, I'm the worst):
What’s this called, victuurio? At the request of a dear friend who probably doesn’t want to be credited (lol), I dove into the AO3 for Yuuri Katsuki/Victor Nikiforov/Yuri Plisetsky fic. There are fewer than 80 completed stories in English! What the hell, fandom?! Here are five I particularly enjoyed:
Explicit, 4281 words. Victor and Yuuri decide to invite Yurio to be their third. Pure smut, but hot and funny, with amazing dialog (by one of my favorite Yuri/Otabek authors).
"We," Viktor announces, wrapping one arm around each of them, "are taking you on a date."
"A date," Yurio repeats, squirming a little under Viktor's affection. "Seriously?"
"We're very serious," Yuuri assures him, putting an arm around his shoulders to make it a sort of triangular huddle. "Unless you don't want to."
Yurio huffs. "Are you going to drink?" he asks hopefully.
Explicit, 3203 words. Victor and Yuuri discover Yurio’s stash of photos--of Yuuri. Smut with exhibitionism (plus a little humiliation, maybe?) and feelings.
Victor tugs the coffee table back and sits on it, right in front of Yuri. He’s got his phone out.
Yuri throws his arms over the back of the couch and tilts his head. His hair spills over his shoulder. “Shoot away,” he says loftily. “I don’t have bad angles.”
“What was your nickname—the ice princess of Russia?” Victor’s looking at the screen.
“Tiger,” Yuri snarls.
The phone clicks. “Nice! I like your angry face.”
Explicit, 8761 words. After Yuuri’s retirement, Victor starts coaching Yurio. He apparently has exactly one coaching technique. Sweet and hot with lots of pining.
Yuri realizes with a sharp pang that something's changed in the past few months. He never used to spend this much time skating by himself. But lately, practicing under Viktor makes him tense, oversensitive, too aware of Viktor's eyes on him. His stomach clenches just thinking of it.
But a small part of him still wishes Viktor were here, right at this moment. That he had come after Yuri, when he stormed out like he was fifteen years old again.
Longing, he thinks suddenly, and stumbles.
Explicit, 16814 words. Victor decides that Yuri needs to be punished for talking shit, and Yuri finally manages to ask for what he wants. Which is BDSM.
He knew this feeling, the curl of frustrated want and arousal, distracting and always happening at the most annoying times. It wasn't that he didn't want Victor. He'd wanted Victor as soon as he knew what want was, and wanted to beat him, too. It was only that he was fucking mad right now, and all his body could do was feel the pain in his scalp and send it straight to his dick.
He didn't pull away, still in Victor's grasp, staring him down. More than half his bravado had waned, replaced with an off-balance feeling that sat wrong in the pit of his stomach.
Victor's eyes didn't leave Yuri's, but it felt like he saw everything from that piercing, unblinking look, from the way Yuri's hands were also shaking to the inconvenient and completely fucking unwanted boner he was developing.
Mature, 6459 words. Yuri has two problems: growth spurts, and kinky fantasies about Yuuri and Victor. He choreographs a program about it. No actual Y/V/Y content, just lust and wanking (and a strong Yuri&Otabek friendship, yay).
It’s okay, he tells himself after, the shower spray hot on his upper back, breathing in the steamy air rising around him. It really is. Sure, it’s embarrassing because it’s them, but they’ve been getting handsy in front of Yuri every day for pretty much the last year, so it’s probably their fault anyway. And the websites he’s read are very clear on none of this saying anything about him as a person.
It’s just something that’s happened, and he’ll skate it out.
Enjoy!!
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squonk and bironic, among others, and now I have a TOS Tumblr where I’m documenting my thorough rewatching of the entire series, plus movies, plus probably all the other Star Trek series, and then the reboot … with pictures!! If that’s something you’re into, you should watch along with me. bironic and I might organize a thing, or I don’t know, maybe not, because I’m not so good at organizing things, or for that matter at “things.”
sarken