Yuri On Ice Fanfiction Novels & Stories

“Layla, I think you have abandonment issues. Liam was never good for you. Xavier is. You should be hap—” My blood boiled. “What the fuck?! The girl who got herself pregnant and abandoned by a man is now telling me to be happy—” Slap. The sting exploded across my cheek before I even registered her hand moving. Yuri’s eyes blazed with anger. “I knew you would never understand.” Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall. “After you ruined my life, I don’t think I owe you understanding anyway. Take care of yourself and your child, Yuri. But don’t ever come in front of me again.”

The sound of his voice sent goosebumps trailing down my skin and a new feeling suddenly sparked between my thighs. I didn't think I should be talking to someone as high as the Lycan, but I wasn't doing okay and so I shook my head slowly, and managed to mutter, "I'm not." His hand came to my forehead and he groaned, "you're so hot." There was a deep frown on his thick eyebrows, his green eyes growing darker. I think my face must have been very red, I felt so hot. It felt as if there was a fire burning me and his touch made me feel cool. Can you touch me a little more, I thought to myself.

Americus shouts over the noise, throwing an arm around my shoulders with enough enthusiasm to slosh hot chocolate onto my sleeve. I look out at the ice. Freshly surfaced. Brilliant white under the arena lighting. The Yale Bulldogs logo at center ice, the boards carrying the marks and scuffs of a rink that has been used seriously for decades. I know this ice. I was standing on it less than a week ago, attempting a single toe loop on a knee that could not hold the landing. It looks different from up here. The teams emerge from the tunnel to a wall of sound that hits hard enough to make me blink.

While stimulating another point of pleasure, Yuri withdraws his fingers only when he transfers the heat of my body to another. With his clean hand, he lowers the strap of my dress and, shortly after, removes his fingers from me—wet with orgasm. He soaks my still-erect nipple, squeezing and twirling it between his two fingers. "Yuri," I moan his name in a plea. I'm answered when his warm mouth takes the place of his fingers, sucking vigorously, nibbling, and then showcasing his tongue as if savoring its taste in the same way he did with the vodka.

But when I looked at his feet, my eyebrows rose. It's like the poison I felt earlier has also disappeared. He was wearing white socks and Nike slides. "Hello Wines," said Yuri who silenced my two friends. But later Wella screamed again. Thrill, thrill fifty. "Calm down, you already have a jowa. Yuri also has one okay?" Wella's eyes immediately shifted to me because of what I said. "Yuri already has a girlfriend?!" I shrugged. The room was suddenly silent. Cali turned off the loud speaker and paused the video.

Her facial muscles twitch with a mix of cringe and rising heat as she reads the digital frenzy. @WestCoastQueen: Oh my god, did she just touch his bicep? @DonutJuice: She looks so professional, but the way he's looking at her? Elias Weston doesn't 'relax.' Ever. And yet, he hasn't flinched once. My jaw is on the floor. @LoveOnIce: I am officially shipping this! The gorgeous, mysterious doctor x the untouchable Ice King? The tension is literally melting my screen! Mia's breath hitches, but it's the last few comments that truly make the blood turn to ice in her veins.

Kai took another dangerous step forward, his voice dropping to a low, threatening growl. "This isn't a game, Asher. She's off limits. You know that." Asher's smirk only grew, slow and cocky, the kind of grin that probably scored him goals and girls off the ice. He didn't remove his arm from my shoulder. Instead, he drew me closer with a smooth tug, his strong hand sliding down to rest at the small of my back, fingers pressing lightly against my skin in a touch that felt both protective and deliciously possessive.

The sheer size of him, the strength, the violence he carries so naturally on the ice, all of it restrained beneath the unbearable tension of obedience freely given. Waiting. Not weak, never weak. That’s what makes it devastating. I imagine stepping closer, trapping him between my naked body and the wall, until there’s nowhere left for him to look except at me. Imagine sliding one hand around the front of his throat, not enough to hurt, just enough to feel the immediate shift in him, the sharp inhale, the pulse jumping hard beneath my palm while his expression goes perfectly still. God. In the fantasy, he melts under command with terrifying grace, like he’s spent his entire life waiting for s

he whispered, his voice dropping into that dangerous, velvet tone. Selena froze, her hands resting instinctively on his broad shoulders for support. She looked up and found herself drowned in those piercing blue eyes. They were so close she could see the silver flecks in his pupils. Is this jerk really Sam Valenti? she wondered, her mind a complete fog. The same arrogant man from yesterday? Or am I still dreaming at my desk? She could feel the heat of his palms through her blouse, pressing into her waist. The world around them vanished; there was only the sound of her frantic heartbeat and the scent of his expensive cologne.