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ticklygiggles · 4 months

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New Year's Resolutions| Victuuri

Collab with @otomiyaa ✨

A/N: Our first Collab of the year 🥺 Even though Ginny already retired, I keep bothering her, asking her to do collaborations together. Thanks for accepting again, my deeear! I have a blast as always~ I looove you ❤️

Summary: it's the fresh start of a new year and Victor and Yuuri find themselves talking about their resolutions.

Words: 1.8k

The first couple of days of the new year found them curled up in bed, sleeping with their legs intertwined, hugging each other and their faces so close together, breathing the same air. It was warm and cozy, in their hearts they couldn't wish to be anywhere else than in each other's arms. They would stay in bed until their bellies started to rumble and right after breakfast, they would jump back to bed to enjoy each other some more.

A hand sneaking here and there would lead to a giggle or a kiss and then another hand going further down would make one of them let out wonderful pleased sounds that would guide them to consummate their love with kisses and caresses until their bodies got tired and they had to take long naps together.

It was a lazy routine and at first they both felt a little uncomfortable, especially Victor, who really liked to go out and have a good time, but neither of them could resist the other's warmth and kisses.

“Yuuri?” Victor had mumbled one morning, his voice still hoarse with sleep as he comfortably laid on his side with Yuuri snuggling against him; his long fingers carding through his lover's hair.

“Hmm?” Yuuri nuzzled closer to Victor, taking a deep breath when his nose touched Victor's throat.

“When are you going to tell me your new year’s resolutions?”

Yuuri didn't immediately answer him, and after a few seconds, Victor thought he had fallen asleep again, but he didn't and when he talked again, Victor jumped slightly.

Yuuri giggled when he felt Victor flinching and he hugged him tightly. “Are you supposed to share your resolutions?”

“Hmm, I don't see why not. I can share mine with you and maybe you can join me in some resolutions and I can join yours?”

“... I see. Alright.” Yuuri yawned. “You first.”

A charming low chuckle could be heard from his husband. Ah, husband… Yuuri was still stuck in his sweet bubbly feelings when he felt Victor pinch his lower side playfully, making him let out a weird strangled noise.

“Don’t be mean Yuuri, I asked you first,” Victor argued, making Yuuri giggle.

“Okay okay!” Yuuri huffed, and he was very aware of Victor’s hand that remained on his side, but it did not move again, so he held his breath and thought for a moment.

“I would like to try more recipes. Learn to cook more good food for you, Vitya. Also eat good food together.”

“That sounds nice,” Victor agreed.

“I’d also like to visit more places. We talk more about traveling and don’t actually do it. Let’s visit some new places this year,” Yuuri continued, now feeling inspired.

“Oh, and pick up my old workout routine. Maybe you could help me, coach,” Yuuri said playfully. He tingled when Victor’s thumb rubbed his side in approval.

“I’ll help you, student,” he said.

“Another resolution is… To tell you that I love you, more than I did last year. Hmm… Yeah,” Yuuri said, and he yawned sleepily.

“I’m touched, Yuuri,” Victor said fondly.

“Now, tell me yours?” Yuuri moved closer against him if that was even possible. He was pressed tightly against Victor and nuzzled him like a cat.

“My new year’s resolution…” Victor thought out loud, and Yuuri could feel his hands on his body climb up - the one on his side trailing up his ribcage, the other moving from his waist further up as well, and he tensed up.

“Victor?” he whispered curiously, but Victor was still humming, deep in thought.

“Ah, yes. My only resolution is to tickle Yuuri more.” And suddenly his fingers dug into Yuuri’s sensitive torso, drawing out a loud pitchy laugh from him.

“Vityahaha! Nohoho!” he howled, but he had given himself quite the position in his lover’s arms and it seemed he was going to be stuck there for a while as Victor continued to tickle him with quick and playful scribbles.

“What do you mean no, Yuuri?” Yuuri’s cheeks flushed hearing Victor's teasing tone as his fingers wiggled against his ribs, making him throw his head back with loud laughter. “You have to help me with my resolutions since you're in them!”

Yuuri shook his head, shrieking as Victor moved down to his tummy, under his shirt. “You tihihihickle mehehe plehehenty ahahalreahady!”

Victor only hummed and Yuuri cackled, jumping and jerking as his lover's hands jumped from spot to spot, gently squeezing, scratching, poking and jabbing at his warm, ticklish skin. No matter how hard Yuuri tried to cover his weakest spots, Victor already knew the map of his body by memory and his fingers found every little patch of skin that had him shrieking.

“Yuuri!” Victor whined when Yuuri almost caught his hand. “Stop trying to stop me! I'm trying to do something here!”

“Dontticklemethere! Dohohon't tihihickle me thehehere- ahahaha!” Yuuri squeaked when Victor grabbed one of his wrists and pulled it above his head, exposing his underarm. “Plehehehease, Vihihihictor!”

“Don't act as if you don't enjoy this, my love,” Victor purred and so his fingers finally touched his very vulnerable underarm.

Yuuri’s eyes widened before squeezing shut and he threw his head back, howling hysterically. It tickled so bad! It was way too early for this! And yet… he felt warmth and happy tingles spread through his body. Victor wasn’t wrong, it’s not like he didn’t enjoy this particular feeling. Laughing at his relentless husband’s mercy.

“Lehehehet go ohohof my ahaharm ahahahaha!” Yuuri kicked his legs when Victor wouldn’t stop tickling his helplessly exposed underarm.

“Alright, but promise you won’t move.” Victor was quick to agree and buried both hands under Yuuri’s arms, thumbs rubbing into the center areas of his armpits and tickling Yuuri so bad he was shrieking.

“Nahahaha Vityahahaha!” He flailed his arms and instinctively tried to push him away.

“You promised not to move!” Victor gasped.

“I dihidn’t prohohomise ahahanything huwhaha!” The last bits of sleepiness were completely gone as Victor pinned him down and tickled Yuuri’s sides and ribs with admirable determination.

Yuuri tried to keep in his laughter in an attempt to make Victor lose interest, but that was an impossible task when he was already laughing like a mad man, especially when he felt Victor chasing after his hips. He shrieked, panicking, trying to squirm away from those mean fingers wanting to dig into the soft and terribly ticklish flesh of his hips.

“Hey, what are you hiding from me, huh? Why do you keep moving away, Yuuri? Am I going for your best spot?”

Yuuri shook his head, but he then screamed with laughter when Victor finally grabbed at his hips and started squeezing them. He jolted and squirmed wildly, tears of laughter falling down the sides of his face. Victor laughed too, teasing Yuuri with comments about how ticklish he was and saying that his resolution was going just fine.

Yuuri could barely speak as he was cackling his lungs out, his hands uselessly trying to catch Victor's, but noticing that wouldn't work, he gather the bit of strength he had left and moved both his hands under Victor's arms, his fingers wiggling into the warmth of his armpits. The sound that left Victor's mouth was inhuman and Yuuri laughed even harder as his lover's hysterical laughter replaced his own.

“Oh my god, Yuuri!” He said in English before throwing his head back in ticklish hysteria. “NAHAHAT THEHERE! YOU TRAHAHAITOHOR!”

It was actually hilarious that Victor tickled him so much when he was this ticklish himself. Yuuri blushed at the reconfirmation: he really didn’t mind Victor tickling him to death sometimes. However right now…

“Traha-traitor? Me? N-now why would you say that, honey?” Yuuri teased breathlessly as he managed to overpower Victor with tickles. Victor fell back, and Yuuri chased after him and continued the tickle attack under his arms, taking along some of those sweet spots on his upper ribcage as well.

“YUUREhehehe! Nohoho! Hohohonehehey!” Victor could return the pet names or anything, but nothing was better than this. Yuuri smiled fondly and wiggled his fingers mercilessly against his husband’s tickle spots.

“You’re the one training me, coach. Don’t tell me you forgot I’ve got stamina for two?” Yuuri asked, still out of breath a little but handling his teases toward Victor quite well. Victor cackled and squeaked, flopping adorably underneath him.

“I knohohow! Buhuhut my rehehesolution - ahahaha!”

Yuuri cocked his head and concentrated on that great spot between Victor’s ribs. “Your resolution?” he asked dreamily, staring at the blush on Victor’s cheeks as he tickled him.

“Tihihickle you - wahhaah! Nohohot thihihis!”

Yuuri nodded, taking in that sweet laughter. “But I like this a lot, too. I might add one more resolution,” he said. “Also, didn't you say we could join each other's resolution? I might want to tickle you more this year as well!”

Victor shook his head as he shrieked with laughter. “Mehehercy on thihihis old mahahahan! Ack! Yuhuhuhurihihihi!”

Yuuri giggled, “now you're an old man? Don't act as if you don't enjoy this, Vitya,” Yuuri giggled brightly, seeing Victor's cheeks flush pink. It was true that Yuuri was the one that really liked being tickled, but maybe after so much time together, Victor had started to like it as well and that made Yuuri's heart jump excitedly inside his chest.

“I dohohon't- ahahahah, Yuuhuhuhuri! Leheheave my poohohohor ahaharmpihihits alohohone!”

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” Yuuri said, and he couldn’t hold back a giggle at his own bad joke. He could hear and understand each word Victor sputtered through his hysterical laughing fit, but that didn’t stop him and his fingers from enjoying this game a little bit longer.

Only when Victor started to sound really tired, Yuuri slowly stopped his attack, and he smirked. “Mercy?” he asked, poking Victor one more time. Victor nodded tiredly and snorted.

“Yeheheah whahatehehever!” he laughed. Yuuri finally moved back in their previous embrace. They were now both all messy; messy hair, sweaty, teary and blushy faces, and each wearing a huge smile as they caught their breath while staying in each other’s arms. They both sighed deeply and looking at each other's eyes, they couldn't help but break into loud laughter again.

Yuuri thought holding each other like this, laughing and giggling and sneaking some tickles here and there, was the perfect way to start the year and he hoped dearly inside his heart that he could spend all this new year with Victor like this, loving each other and enjoying silly little moments together.

“Yuuri?”

“Hmm?”

“We'll have a great year,” Victor said softly, his eyes a bit droopy, feeling sleepy after their little tickle fight. “We’ll go to new places and eat yummy food together and I'll tickle your little head off every chance I get.” Yuuri giggled, feeling fingers walking up the curve of his waist. “So be ready, Yuuri, because we'll have a blast! People will get mad they only see our pictures on Instagram.”

Yuuri smiled and nodded before kissing Victor's lips gently. “I love you, Victor.”

He knew every year would be enjoyable if Victor was with him.

#yuri!!! on ice #yuri on ice #yoi #katsuki yuuri #victor nikiforov #victuuri #ticklish!Yuuri #ticklish!Victor #tickle fic #mia's things #mia's collaborations

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nerohellsing · 5 months

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Remember long hair Vitya? ☺️

Young Victor Nikiforov by me ( Nero Hellsing ) @nerohellsing

Yuri !!! On Ice cosplay

Ph/Ed: dokura

#yuri on ice #yoi #victor nikiforov #Victor nikiforov cosplay #yoi cosplay #cosplay #cosplayer #コスプレ #anime #yuri on ice cosplay

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viktortittiforov · 7 months

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viktuuri week day 4: reinvention

yeehaw i'm a day late but AT LAST i have managed to finish at least one of the things i had planned for @viktuuri-week 💫 very lazy bcs i doodled this while attending a conference 🫡 godspeed

anyways vitya is weak for long haired yuuri and frankly so am i

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smol-lydia · 1 year

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Lyds, I love your HC of Jewish Viktor. Could I entice you to write a little holiday one shot of either Viktor sharing a quiet sweet Hanukah night with his SO, or perhaps being invited to his SO’s family’s Hanukah and just being quietly overwhelmed with gratitude and joy to be sharing the holiday with a loving family?

My Irish Catholic agnostic ass is no where near qualified to write such a thing, but I’m longing to see both Viktor have a slice of holiday happiness and to see greater representation of the joy of the season in all customs and religions.🖤

YES. You have no idea how much joy it brought me to get this request in my inbox and anything for you bb. <3 <3

Shoutout to @uwuboowoo and @uniquedeerwitch and @zaunitearchives for helping me brainstorm the plot points for this oneshot in the server.

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"Kindling The Light": Viktor x Fem! Reader SFW Chanukah oneshot

(no y/n, some suggestive themes for later in the evening <.< use of Czech/Yiddish/Hebrew; there will be a note at the end with translation!)

The knock at the washroom door is soft, a quiet rap of knuckles against the worn wood, and yet you still startled a little, letting out the breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding.

You had been staring at your reflection in the mirror above the sink as though in a trance. Not out of some sense of vanity—more the opposite; you couldn’t help but wonder if you would measure up.

“Zajíček?” Viktor’s nickname for you—apparently the word meant bunny in his native tongue—normally brings a smile to your face and color to your cheeks.

Tonight, your nerves get the better of you.

“I’ll be right out,” you reply through the door.

“I was just making sure you’re all right,” he says, and though you can’t see him, you can imagine the wrinkle in his forehead as he knits together his thick, dark brows in worry.

That was Viktor at his essence: the gentle assistant to the Dean cared far more than he let on, and worried constantly over those he loved.

“I’m fine,” you say. “Promise.”

You won’t give him any reason to think otherwise, smoothing down your dress. It’s a black ruffled thing, tying at the waist with a sash, printed with small fuschia blooms. The finest thing you own; tying up your hair with a big fuschia bow. Sheer black thigh highs and black heels, your only formal heels you drug out of the back of your closet.

You open the door and based on Viktor’s expression, those thigh highs were definitely the right choice. His honeyed eyes widen taking you in, pupils darkening with desire as his gaze travels up your legs to the (admittedly) shorter hem of the dress, which hits mid thigh.

You glance down at the floor.

“Should I put on something else? I could—“

In a few steps, he is by your side, grabbing you by the waist with his free hand.

Viktor’s breath is warm against your neck. “Don’t you dare,” he whispers in your ear.

His hand on your waist burns through the fabric of the dress and you feel lightheaded as though you’ve had cups of wine already. And then his teeth catch your earlobe; your knees nearly give out in response.

“Vitya—“ Your voice has gone from thin with nerves to thin with need, yearning coiling in the pit of your belly.

“Yes, my dove?”

His hand has moved from your waist to tracing the line of your jaw down to your collarbone, teasing right above your bodice. His mouth has moved too, letting go of your earlobe to press the lightest of kisses against your exposed shoulder.

Viktor is an attentive lover, always has been from the moment your relationship changed from colleagues to….well, more. And somehow his attentions always make you feel as though he’s worshiping your body for the very first time.

“Our guests will be here any minute,” you remind him, loathe as you are to do so, your own head in the clouds as you want nothing more than to pull Viktor into the bedroom and finish what he’s started.

But it’s the first night of Chanukah, and his family is arriving to celebrate with the two of you.

“They can wait,” he growls in an undertone, and that voice goes straight to the aching need that's settled between your legs, leaving your lace underwear damp.

He kisses you hard then, your hands reaching up to knot themselves in his thick, messy dark hair, savoring the groan he lets out when you tug.

Lust drives you forward in moments like this but you feel like your heart will burst with the love you feel for Viktor, both now and every other moment the two of you are together.

Sometimes you can hardly believe that the inventor feels the same way about you—the foundling from Zaun who knows nearly nothing about your family of origin. A quintessential street kid who grew up into an untamed adult that somehow succeeded despite the odds.

You heard, in the foundling home, that one of your parents belonged to the same ethnic minority as Viktor did, but unlike Viktor you never grew up in the culture. You know nothing of the traditions or language. Your other parent was a native Zaunite, which is where you get your bright hair from.

Viktor never judges you for your lack of knowledge about the culture you both share; rather, he’s eager to help you learn, to experience all the things you never got growing up in the foundling home.

Hence why he volunteered to host the first night of the holiday at the small apartment the two of you share; his extended family making the trek Topside.

“Mílačku, držíš mi celé srdce.” His fevered kisses have left you both breathless, his forehead pressing against yours, hands tracing over the ruched fabric of the bodice of your dress. Your arch into the touch, unable to suppress the mewing sound that slips out.

The sound of the doorbell startles you both. You jump back as though you’ve been caught, cheeks burning.

It takes Viktor a moment to respond; he blinks slowly, waking from a dream, almost intoxicated on you.

“I’ll get the door,” he says quietly, and you nod, smoothing down your dress.

“Vitya!” A gaggle of dark haired, honey eyed cousins pile into the small apartment, all babbling in their native tongue and the language you speak here in Piltover. At the tail end of the pack is an older woman with silver hair braided down her back, dark eyes sharp with sarcasm and wit.

This, you knew, was Viktor’s Savta, the woman who raised him after the death of his parents. A knitted black shawl was wrapped around her shoulders, a patched grey apron hanging on her hips.

She carries a small crockery jar in her arms lovingly wrapped in an old scrap cloth. Viktor towers over her in height but as he bends down to give her a kiss on the cheek and take the jar from her, it’s clear she misses nothing.

“Put it on the counter, Vitya, it’s for the frying,” she says. “And you have hidden this beauty from us for so long! Ach! Useless boy. Never comes home to visit, doesn’t bring his girl home….”

Something stirs in your chest at being referred to as his girl—yes, you’re your own independent person; Viktor would never consider you anything but. Even so, there’s a part of you likes the sound of it.

“Hello,” you venture.

Much to your surprise, Savta pulls you in for a hug. “What a shayna maydel. Call me Savta.”

You don’t know what she’s said to you but it sounds like a compliment.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “Can I help in the kitchen.”

“Yes, yes.” Savta waves her hand. “You and Sonja will peel potatoes. Sonja!”

One of the dark-haired cousins, this one tall and thin like Viktor, who has been engaging him in some animated talk, leans in.

“What?”

“Come into the kitchen. You’re peeling potatoes for the latkes.”

“Aw, Savta, really?”

“You know this is part of the process, Sonja.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“You can annoy Vitya later.”

“Oh, I’m certain she will.” Viktor gives you one of his rare smiles and it has you glowing as brightly as the oil lamp in the window.

It turns out that Savta and Sonja make quick, light work of peeling the potatoes you bought at the market in Piltover the day before. You are not as adept with a knife—even when you were growing up in Zaun the blades made you nervous and shaky.

Still, neither of them comment on your shoddy potato peeling skills, and you’re thankful.

“So how did you and Vitya start dating?” Sonja asks you.

Her amber eyes are full of curiosity and you can’t really blame her. You remember being her age—sixteen—and caught up in romantic daydreams.

You sigh. “I started in the lab as an assistant, actually. Recommended by Professor Heimerdinger—I didn’t know it at the time but I had actually taken Viktor’s job as the Professor’s assistant after he had left the position. If you work on campus you get a tuition waiver, you see. And if you don’t have the benefit of a patron….”

“There aren’t many people from the Undercity at the Academy, are there?” Sonja tucked her dark hair behind her ears. “Vitya says he’ll pay for my education if I want to go. With the HexTech profits.”

You smile as you set aside a potato. “Do you want to?”

Sonja nods. “Very much. Anyway, keep going.”

“Well, I started at the lab. My specialty is ancient languages, so I was helping Jayce and Vik translate some of those runes.”

Your heartbeat picks up as you think of that first day in the lab, when you met Viktor. You had been drawn to him immediately but he was cold, distant.

“I actually thought he disliked me at first. It took me a few weeks to gather the courage to ask Jayce one day when we were working alone together if Viktor hated me. And he told me no, he just doesn’t socialize much.”

Sonja rolled her eyes. “Believe me, you would know if Vitya disliked you.”

“Eventually, he and I spent more late nights working together than Jayce and I ever did. And it turns out Jayce was absolutely correct. Viktor…well, you know how he is. Incredibly intelligent, very focused on what he’s doing. And I….” You feel the warmth rise in your body as you speak. “I kept my feelings to myself the entire time, convinced they were one sided.”

“But they weren’t?” Sonja puts the last potato on the bowl.

“Sonja, get an egg and the meal out.” Savta says, hands on her hips, and the teenager does as she’s told.

The older woman cracks the egg into a bowl, mixing it in with the shredded potatoes and the matzo meal to create a mixture. “See, my dear, now we get the schmaltz for the frying.” Savta points at the crockery jar she had brought with her and you hand it to her.

She scoops the schmaltz into a cast iron pan on the stove, watching it heat up.

“They weren’t,” you say to Sonja, continuing the story. “We were pulling an all nighter, Viktor and I. He had made coffee the way he always does, and we drank far too much of it. Kind of made me manic and at some point around 3 am we went from translating runes to….I don’t even know. Joking? And somehow the jokes got wilder and wilder and I can say it was the insanity of it all but I just—I felt something. Like the crackle in the air before an intense summer storm? I don’t know what came over me but I just leaned in and kissed him. I was starting to apologize and he told me…that it wasn’t necessary.”

Sonja took a handful of the potato mixture and flattened it between her palms, putting it into the frying pan with a plop!

“For the record, Vitya is a dork, but that’s a sweet story and I like you.”

You laugh. “Thanks, I think.”

The latkes fry quickly and smell like heaven; in no time the kitchen is crowded with cousins clambering for a taste, shooed out by Savta who tells them to wait until she’s done cooking.

“Set the table, Vitya,” she says when Viktor wanders in, tempted by the smell of the food.

Soon enough there’s a plate stacked high with the potato pancakes, you’ve run out of the mixture, and Savta has you scooping the applesauce and sour cream you bought at the Piltover market into small glass serving dishes.

At the table, food and wine flows freely, Savta intoning the bracha for both before everyone is served. Over the food and chatter, Viktor reaches over to squeeze your hand, or give you that sweet smile that has your heart turning over in your chest.

Your refill his wine glass more than once and the alcohol brings a pretty flush to his pale skin; his eyes glassy as he grows tipsy.

He leans in to whisper in your ear in a low tone.

“The things I am going to do when we are alone for the rest of the evening,” he murmurs, the scent of sweet wine hitting you strongly, the warmth of his breath against your ear sending a shiver down your body, heat coiling between your thighs.

The younger cousins have gathered on the floor by now, playing some sort of betting game that involves small candies and ginkgo nuts, a clay top spinning between them.

“Let’s light the candle!” Sonja jumps up once the dishes are cleared, turning her attention to the silver chanukkiah that Viktor had pulled out of a cupboard a few days previous. It had belonged to his parents, he had told you.

“Let Vitya do it, Sonja,” Savta says.

“Aw.” Sonja pouts.

“She can if she wants,” Viktor offers, and Sonja beams.

“Wait!” Sonja pauses. “Why don’t both of you do it together?”

You bite your lower lip. You don’t know anything about the ritual, and the shame threatens to choke you.

“I—I don’t know the words,” you mumble, looking down at your shoes.

“I’ll help you, Zajíček.” Viktor gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and you give him a tight smile.

“All right.”

“Repeat after me,” he says. “First we light the chamash, the lead candle. That candle will kindle the light for the first night’s candle.”

You nod, and Viktor strikes the match, lighting the chamash, and handing it to you to light the first candle in the chanukkiah.

“Baruch atah Adonai Eloheinu melech haolam asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tsivanu l’hadlik ner shel Chanukah.”

The words are a struggle and you want the ground to open you up and swallow you, and yet, there’s a part of you that feels connected, your and Viktor’s reflection in the flickering of the candles, displayed prominently in the apartment windiw. Viktor presses a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“My love,” he whispers, quietly enough that only you can hear him and you feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

It’s later, after his family has gone home, that he gives you your gift. You had gotten him a soothing ointment for the aches and pains he gets in his joints and with the rough edges of his leg and spinal brace, the gratitude in his face evident.

You open the small box, genuinely with no idea what he’s gotten you. You gasp at what you see: a hammered silver necklace with a small HexTech blue crystal in the center. The silver has been shaped into a six pointed star, a shape that’s associated with Viktor’s people—yours too, you suppose, even if you struggle to claim your seat at that table.

“It’s beautiful,” you manage to choke out, completely overwhelmed. “Thank you.”

“May I?” He asks, and you nod.

He fastens the necklace on you, and presses kisses down your neck; you sigh in pleasure.

“Now, my love…” he pauses to leave a bruise of a love bite and you gasp. “I want you in bed, wearing nothing but that.”

“I think I can make that happen.” You take his hand, gently tugging him towards the bedroom.

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Glossary/translation:

Mílačku, držíš mi celé srdce: you hold my whole heart

Savta= grandmother

schmaltz= chicken fat; kosher alternative for frying; common in eastern europe Jewish culture; honestly i'v had french fries fried in it and its bussin

Shayna maydel= pretty girl

Bracha= blessing; there are specific ones said for wine bread, other food, etc

Chanukkiah= so I think most non-Jews think this is called a menorah. but a menorah only has space for seven candles. a Chanukkiah has space for 8, plus the chamash, so technically nine.

The blessing Viktor and his S/O say over the candles: Blessed are you, Adonai our God, ruler of the Universe, who commends us to do the mitzvah of kindling the Chanukah light.

#viktor arcane #arcane viktor #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader fic #viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor x y/n #viktor imagine #arcane fanfic #my fic writig #my fic

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viktorfanpage · 2 years

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viktor smut now

Anything for you, anon

NSFW MINORS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

content warnings: blowjobs, gender neutral reader, insecure viktor, cum swallowing, praise, body worship

Viktor was an amazing lover. Sweet, kind, attentive. But one thing that he couldn't stand, was his body. He was always insecure that he couldn't do the same as other men could, and that led to him being very... avoidant of sexual situations. Presenting his body to you, to him, would be nerve wracking. He was scared that if you saw him, the real him, you would leave. That, of course, was opposite of the truth.

You loved Viktor. No matter what. Even if there were days where he couldn't do much, you loved him. And you wanted to prove that to him.

It wasn't rare for Viktor to come home late, exhausted after a long day in the lab, pondering over questions, over what could be added to the hexcore to make it better than it already was. So when he tumbled into your shared apartment, hair messy and unkempt, bags under his eyes, stifling a yawn with his arm, you weren't surprised. The poor man looked tense; hours on end at a desk would do that to you.

"Welcome home, love" You spoke, guiding him over to the bed and helping him take off his shoes and overcoat. He was obviously grateful, if his expression of pure relief was anything to go by.

"thankyou, lyubov, you always know how to comfort me."

You gave him a slight smile. "Do you want a massage? You seem tense."

The idea of a massage was heavenly to him. He gave you a quick nod, making himself comfortable on the bed, clothes still hung over his lean body.

"Love, I wont force you, but... I think a massage would be easier to give if you weren't wearing so many layers..." You brushed a gentle hand over the buttons of his vest, hoping that the softness of your touches would show you wouldn't do anything he was uncomfortable with.

"Oh right, ah....of course." His beautiful russian accent always sent shocks up your spine. It was perfect. Everything about him was perfect.

You watched as he slipped off his vest, leaving him in just his backbrace, on which the moonlight shone off. He grew more tense, obviously not used to being this vulnerable. His body shook slightly, and it only took you a moment to realise that he was crying. Immediately worried that you had crossed a boundary, you cupped his cheek, caressing his face with a thumb.

"Viktor? I'm sorry, i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable in any way-"

He cut you off. "No no, not at all.. I have just.. never been this... exposed before. I don't want you to think of me any differently because i'm not as...." he pondered the words he wanted to use. "able, as everyone else."

You let out a sigh, your heart-breaking at the thought that the perfect man you love has been holding this burden in. "My love, you are perfect the way you are. I love everything about you.. Can I show you?" The hand on the pale mans cheek slowly went downwards, until you had a firm hand on his waist.

His face flushed, Viktor, obviously nervous, gave a slight nod. "I would like that."

After being given consent, you gave chaste kisses down the russians neck, letting out soft sighs from the man. He already had a bulge growing, your other hand running across is gently.

Viktor squirmed in your grasp, obviously craving more friction.

"I love your face. Your moles are so beautiful." a kiss to his face. "I love your eyes, they are the most beautiful honey colour I have ever seen." a kiss below his eye. "I love your lips. You always know how to kiss me just right." a kiss to his lips.

You continued murmuring praises, relishing in his shiver of excitement at every small kiss.

You pulled his hands up to your chest. "I love your hands. I can always find comfort in them." You let out a slight moan as he moved his hands to play with your breasts, nipples hardening under the touch.

"Ah... Vitya, this is supposed to be for you.." You closed your eyes, moving yourself down between his spread legs. "You can touch me another time, I promise my love. For now, let me show you how perfect you are."

Viktor let out a moan akin to a whimper as you unzipped his trousers and pulled down his boxers, letting hiss length spring free. You chuckled slightly, pressing open mouthed kisses across his girth, hearing his moans grow louder with every one. "You're so perfect Vitya, I could never leave you."

He covered his eye with a free hand as tears of happiness fell down his pale cheeks, the other hand lacing with your h/c hair, tugging slightly, trying to ground himself from the immense pleasure you were giving him.

You used your tounge to stimulate the sensitive parts of his girth, using your hand to move his foreskin out of the way. His dick was throbbing, flushed red at the tip, precum pooling onto his abdomen. You knew he wouldn't last much longer.

"krasivyy, im close..." Viktors hand tightened in your hair, his back arching slightly as his thighs trembled. "AH, Y/N!" you relished in your boyfriends screams as he released into your mouth, feeling his dick twitch and soften.

You pulled off gently, swallowing the warm cum before rubbing a hand along his still shaking thigh. "Do you believe me now?"

"Yes, Lyubov. I'm sorry I ever doubted you."

#arcane x reader #arcane requests #arcane viktor #viktor #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #arcane smut #arcane imagines #viktor smut #arcane x gender neutral reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #viktor x you #arcane fanfiction #arcane fanfic #requests #im sorry not sorry #viktor my beloved

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lines-on-ice · 4 months

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Fics Masterlist

Works list on AO3 :

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naelia/works

Yuri!!! On Ice Fandom :

Completed :

Our Melody : https://archiveofourown.org/works/43290984

"He hears a bright note, then another. He hears them again, the same two notes, as he is entering a layback spin, and even in dreaming, he smiles. He knows what it means.

An AU where soulmates hear the same music in their heads. An AU where Victor is notoriously Tune Deaf and can't hear anything like that."

Magic in the Air : https://archiveofourown.org/works/45095416

"Yuri snorts, taking the wooden spoon out of the caldron and waving his hand to magic out the flames under the recipient. Viktor is already disposing the glass vials next to it, ready to be filled with tonight’s potion.

“Yeah, right. You don’t like this house, Viktor, you just like the neighbor. You’re always flirting with him. And that’s disgusting, by the way, stop it.”

An AU starting at Halloween and ending on Valentine's day. The best stories are made of magic, aren't they?"

[Explicit] Stinging Rain : https://archiveofourown.org/works/47901193

""Color, Vitya?”

The sub turns his neck this way and that to relieve some of the tension. Next thing will be new, something they’ve been discussing lately and something Viktor is very curious to try. Anticipation makes his skin prickle and he nods swiftly:

“Green. Very green.”

A hand under his skull lifts his head up and soft lips press to his own, before Yuuri murmurs against them.

“Good.”

Or: Victor and Yuuri celebrate Pride discovering New Kinks.

For Yuri on the Web Discord Pride Event 2023 - Contains exclusive fan art."

Queen Mila, Driver of Passion : https://archiveofourown.org/works/49831387

""The Queen once again turned her attention to the roses she had been sitting next to. The vibrant purple of their petals was the exact same shade of her lover’s eyes, and Oh! How she longed for her sweet embrace."

Mila, Queen of the Kingdom of Hearts, is the Driver of Passion. Yet, her own passion has taken over her heart and she now longs for the One She Loves...

For the Yuri On Cards collaboration"

Knight Sara, Borrower of Sorrow : https://archiveofourown.org/works/49831570

"Unthinkingly, her hand reached out to the Red Rose that adorned her dark hair. Her fingers traced every petal in a well-practiced manner.

Sara is the Knight of Sorrows, destined to fight other's sorrows, but could she still find happiness?

For the Yuri On Cards collaboration"

Until My Feet Bleeds And My Heart Aches - Official French Translation : https://archiveofourown.org/works/11333628

Ongoing :

The Chocolate Guy : https://archiveofourown.org/works/45342445

""I can't wait to see next season, I bet he has so many surprises in store…"

Yuuri is now finishing up the Chantilly, and setting it to cool, closing the refrigerator with a dreamy sigh that doesn’t escape Phichit’s notice. He smirks, pulling out his phone while asking:

"Speaking of the next season of 'The Chocolate School'... On a scale from one to 'I'm packing my bags right now', how much would you like to be in it?"

----

Viktor Nikiforov is The Chocolate Guy, undisputed ruler of the pastry world, Chocolatier Extraordinaire and Yuuri's inspiration. But it is one thing to emulate his idol's creations in his own kitchen, and a whole other deal to end up meeting him in person participating in his TV show..."

You Are The Star I Am Dancing For : https://archiveofourown.org/works/51452398

"Yuuri sighs and locks his phone to put it back in his pocket. He really doesn’t like that his friend seems to worry more about his reaction to last week’s debacle than about the incident itself. Since Monday night, Phichit simply act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, remaining his bouncy chipper self, eager to dance whatever it is they have to dance to this week, and every bit as confident in their ability as the first day they met and he had declared in front of the camera that he couldn’t have had a better partner to win this thing.

How Yuuri hates having let him down so thoroughly…

“We were almost eliminated, Phichit.”

----

A Dancing With The Stars AU where some characters are still skaters but others are pro dancers... Yuuri gets to compete with Victor! Hop in to see how it goes...

The fic is rated Explicit for a smut chapter that will come (very) later on and will be fully signaled in the previous chapter. If any other adulty content happens (again, in later chapter) it will be fully signaled in beginning notes and in the chapter itself to be skipped.

Contains original ART by YOI artists!

- Updates Monthly-ish -"

Write Me In C Major - Official French Translation : https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722560 - hiatus from original author

#yuri on ice #masterlist #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #my writing #writers on tumblr

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thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai · 3 months

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For the @ficwip Word Game Wednesday I chose a scene from my post-canon YOI fanfiction Did My Heart Love 'Til Now. This week's word was outside and like every week picking just one snippet took hours.

“Stop!” Yakov’s gruff voice echoed through the rink. “Vitya, what was that?" The ice crunched under the violent force of blades digging into it as Viktor stopped. He flung back his hair. “A quad Lutz.” “That was almost a flip. Where was your outside edge, Vitya?” Viktor eyed his coach, one hand at his hip, the other stroking his chin. In the two weeks since he had prepared Yuuri for Nationals, more pressing matters than practising jumps had occupied his mind. Has Yakov decided to make me suffer for taking time off? “I was leaning towards the outside edge, so…” Yakov let out a long, low grunt. “Not enough. Every technical panel would give you an edge call for that disaster of a take-off! Did you do nothing but fooling around in Japan?”

Poor Vitya has just moved back home and is already being scolded by his coach.

I love how this game inspires me to refine snippets of my wips I would ignore otherwise🥰

#yuri on ice #viktor nikiforov #ficwip #word game wednesday #did my heart love til now #ADTLTBAverse #yoi fanfic #my yoi fanfic

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aphfanficwriters · 10 days

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Every month we will pose a question and collate responses as a fun and informal little exercise in getting to know each other and spark discussion. This month's question is:

“Who is your favourite character to write for and why?”

Beetroot / @council-of-beetroot: Feliks is a fave for me because he seems straightforward when writing but everything he says and does is only a small piece of how he feels and there's a lot of things that are subtly implied that you have to take into account. He's fun to write too because of his style of speech is so out there. There is a lot of humour that is mixed in with the angst of Feliks so it's incredibly fun to get to work with that and put it on to paper to dive deeper into what canon hints at.

Fed / @fedpawstered: Kiku is my favorite for doing most things with.. Idk I just have a lot of personal headcanons about him I really like sharing or showing off, not to mention my uselessly vast knowledge of eastern history finally has a usage when I write works for him. He’s an interesting character, and I love seeing fandom interpretations as well as creating my own! :)) silly little creature is what he is

Lacy: I think Yao is my fave to write because I am the most comfortable with his character design, maybe I just like a guy with long hair. I just vibe with him slightly more than other characters in hetalia for most of the stories I intended to write.

Tama / @delgumofics: I love to write Alfred the most. I think he's super cute and charming and he just inspires me like no one else. His silly little face begs me to torment him!

WhiteWings / @smuttyandabsurd: To the surprise of absolutely nobody, Ivan is my favourite Hetalia character to write for. He's multi-faceted and malleable and doesn't give me any trouble with characterisation; I can dream up practically any situation and he just pops up in my head fully formed and ready to take the leading role. He's fun to explore the silly things I come up with, but I'd like to give him a role with depth too some day.

Eru / @eruverse: My Kazakhstan OC is the one in my head. I’ve worked hard on his characterization and he’s evolved a long way from his early days until today; he’s not only someone who is based off of his dynamics with other countries (boring, plainly), but he is also his own individual. I like writing him bc I love his character; a formidable ball of intense drive that he tries to package underneath a smooth and neat persona because he loves to seem like a cool guy. In fact tho, he is anything but cool — but he has a lot of faith and pride in his abilities, and he will achieve his ambitions even if he has to forsake his health and sanity sometimes. He’s like your overachieving classmate with chronic insomnia due to stress. However he also has a lot of gags and humor potential, also why I love him.

Moss: My favourite character to write for (and my favourite character in general) is Ivan. I wish I could write him well enough to make readers love him as I love him ) he is my darling and my baby boy, I enjoy everything about him.

Vitya / @veetyuh: My favourite is (historical) Sealand, because of the insane things he has survived. A direct hit from a Nazi bomb, abandonment, piracy, several invasions, a coup, stalking and a bombing attempt from England, and framed for drug smuggling and Versace's murder — all over a family of four living in international waters. That, paired with the contradictions of his character: smallest country, yet he canonically has Russia's level of physical strength. Built to serve England, but must prioritise his own sovereignty. So dramatic. I love dissecting him, and I hope to make him feel like more than just a gag character. 💕

FoLightening / @folightening: Thought hard about this, and I still can't figure out who I like writing more so: Spain and Switzerland. I like thinking about how they think, how they interact with others, what makes them who they are. They both have so much to them that makes them fun to write - for different yet similar reasons I can't find the words for. I suppose it helps that Spain's my favorite character in general and I adore Switzerland.

#hetalia writers' association #post: talking prompt #april 2024

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suspendedcosmos · 1 year

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Stardrop Ale

He comes to Yuuri for the first time on the fifth day of spring.

word count: 0.7k

part one of Opalescents

open on ao3 or read below the cut;

He comes to Yuuri for the first time on the fifth day of spring. He slides along the bar with a flourish, cheeks pink and braid tossed back from his shoulder, eyes exuberantly wild. His voice lilts gently in the middle of Yuuri’s name when he greets him, accent sharp around the consonants. Word must get around fast in such a small town. He leans over the bar, heart of a smile gracing his mouth. “Can I get you something to drink? A snack?”

Yuuri just barely manages to ask for his recommendations through a stuttering tongue and they settle on stardrop ale, indigo and iridescent swirling in a glass, nothing like Yuuri has ever seen or drank before. “I hope you like it, lapotchka.” His voice is liquid saccharine and he winks with the thrum of Yuuri’s heart.

His name is Vitya, he says, he’s lived here for four years. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind his own ear and his bottom lip between his teeth, and asks Yuuri what he thinks of living here. Has he met everyone? Have they been kind? Does he like living on the farm?

Vitya listens attentively with his chin in his hand and a softened smile, humming and nodding and asking more questions between Yuuri’s answers. He stays until the blond further along the bar — Yura? — starts grumbling about somebody too busy trying to get into someone else’s pants to do his fucking job. Vitya smiles apologetically and slips away to attend to Yura, elven braid swishing down by his hips.

The afternoon slips into the evening and Yuuri’s on his third glass. It loosens his limbs and his lips just so, and Vitya’s back with him at the end of the bar, has a drink himself, only leaving to attend to the increasing number of residents rolling in. It’s usually like this at night, Vitya says, everybody likes to spend time together here. He asks if Yuuri will come regularly, he’d like it very much, Yuuri is wonderful company. And how can Yuuri say no to that blissed smile and the graceful fingers brushing his around a glass?

Yuuri finishes the fourth and decides he’d like to dance. He’d like to dance with Vitya. It doesn’t take much convincing — Yuuri can barely say please before Vitya’s asking Seung-Gil if he can handle the drinks by himself for a bit.

He twirls Vitya by the jukebox, dips him and pulls him into his arms. Vitya laughs freely, hooking his arms behind Yuuri’s neck, forehead dropped to Yuuri’s shoulder. They sway and spin and stumble their way through the hours, and Yuuri can barely remember the knots in his stomach earlier today, or the reasons he moved to the valley at all. All there is to think of is Vitya’s half-lidded eyes, the hair falling from his braid, the lipstick print he leaves on Yuuri’s cheek at the end of one of the songs.

“I can walk you home?” Vitya breathes at the end of the night. Most of the townsfolk are leaving or have already gone home to sleep but they’re still there by the bar, arms clasped around one another, giggling about something or other, Yuuri can’t remember. Vitya’s grinning though, so he doesn’t really mind. “Just let me close up first?”

Yuuri sits on one of the barstools and watches Vitya flitting around behind the bar, turning the lights off in the back room, unplugging the jukebox until tomorrow. He pours them each a glass of water and they just sit for a little while, cooling off. Vitya hasn’t had that much fun in all the time he’s lived here, he says. The flush high on his cheeks is awfully sweet. Yuuri tells him as much, and gets to watch it deepen.

Vitya takes his hand when they leave, squeezes it gently and doesn’t let go until they’re at Yuuri’s door. Their goodbye is longer than it needs to be, probably, but the second cheek kiss of the night leaves Yuuri’s heart stuttering long after Vitya’s gone, into the small hours as he turns off his beside lamp. He dreams of indigo and cerulean and rouge. For the first time in recent memory, he looks forward to tomorrow.

#yuri on ice #yuri!!! on ice #katsuki yuuri #victor nikiforov #victuri #victuuri #viktor nikiforov #vikturi #viktuuri #yuuri katsuki #myfics

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