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.
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.
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!
Status: Complete @ 16 chapters
Archived @: Archive of Our Own
Summar: When Harry sacrificed himself at the Battle of Hogwarts, his conversation with Dumbledore went a little differently than he let on to everyone. He was allowed to come back - but only for five years. Harry kept the secret for two and a half years until eventually confessing the truth to none other than Draco Malfoy.
Lady B's Observations: Better have a box of tissue handy. It's sweet/funny/angsty/sad/happy all at the same time. I was crying buckets by the end.
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!
Yuri on Ice, Yuri Plisetsky/Otabek Altin, 7451 words, Explicit. It wasn't the first time he'd been horny after a competition. He was fifteen, he was horny all the time.
Yuri gets a world record, a gold medal, and laid. He’d had no idea having a friend could be this much fun.