Hello, everyone. Here is my attempt at a bottom!Viktor+ possessive!Yuuri fic. Enjoy! [title is a lyric from the song "Get You" by Daniel Caesar, which seems to be my go-to smut writing song now]

Call him possessive, but Katsuki Yuuri gets a twisted sense of satisfaction from knowing that the entire world wants Viktor Nikiforov, but Viktor only wants Yuuri.

So when Viktor decides to take him on a date to the Galeria shopping mall about a month after Yuuri moves into his luxurious apartment in St. Petersburg, Yuuri makes the conscious decision to wear Viktor's trademark red and white Team Russia jacket.

As they rifle through silk ties for Yuuri in the Armani outlet at Viktor's recommendation, word has spread throughout the mall that Russia's living legend is nearby. By the time Yuuri and Viktor exit the store, there is a horde of fans darting towards them. The sounds of boisterous yelling, cheering, and camera shutters fill the air, leaving Yuuri a bit stunned.

Viktor spends the better part of the next hour doling out autographs and photos to the massive crowd. Every time he flashes his charming smile and winks, the crowd goes wild. Yuuri sees the infatuated, starstruck look on practically every woman's face in the crowd. On the inside, Yuuri is going wild too, at the knowledge that Viktor has the entire world wrapped around his finger while Yuuri has Viktor wrapped around his own finger.

But that's not even the best part. Every few minutes, fans notice Viktor's iconic jacket draped on Yuuri's body and give him a envious and disappointed look, or a seemingly disparaging comment in Russian.

If this had happened a year ago, Yuuri would feel insecure, as if he wasn't good enough for Viktor and Viktor deserved someone better than Yuuri. But this isn't the same Yuuri as last year. Yuuri loves that he is the one stealing Viktor from the world.

Stay jealous, ladies, Yuuri mentally sneers. But Viktor chose me and I'm not giving him up so easily.

And he plans on showing Viktor exactly how he feels when they get back to Viktor's- or their - apartment.

The second the elevator door closes and they start moving up, Yuuri grabs Viktor's coat collar and pulls him down, crushing their lips together firmly. The sudden force of the kiss elicits a surprised noise from Viktor and causes him to drop one of their shopping bags, but he quickly reciprocates.

Yuuri pulls away slightly, relishing in the fact that Viktor is slightly flushed, his pupils dilated. The older man chuckles. "Wow, Yuuri! When did you get so bold?" Without breaking eye contact, Yuuri leans forward and presses his forehead against Viktor's, the way he did before his short program at the Cup of China. "Oh, I'm just getting started."

The elevator door slides open. Viktor picks up the dropped bag, and Yuuri wastes no time grabbing him by the coat sleeve and walking swiftly toward the door. As Viktor slides the key card into the electromagnetic lock, he laughs, "Wow, we're a bit impatient today!" Damn right we are, Yuuri thinks as he pulls Viktor into the house and shuts the door swiftly.

The instant they set the shopping bags down next to the door, Yuuri grabs Viktor's shoulders and pushes him against the wall, capturing his lips in another fiery kiss. As soon as Viktor kisses back, Yuuri captures Viktor's bottom lip between his own lips, moving his hands up to fist at Viktor's hair. He sucks roughly, feeling a pang of arousal as Viktor's wandering hands graze over his round butt and firm thighs. When Yuuri releases Viktor's bottom lip, which is warm and a bit swollen from Yuuri's teeth, he presses his tongue into Viktor's slightly open mouth.

The feeling of Yuuri's hot tongue sliding against his teeth and gums makes Viktor's body tingle with anticipation, and he inhales sharply when their tongues slide together. Yuuri smugly smiles into the kiss, and experimentally rolls his hips forward. They both gasp when the half-hard bulges in their pants collide gently. Viktor slides a leg between Yuuri's so they can rut against each other's thighs in a fast yet comfortable rhythm, and with maximum friction.

Viktor feels his mind go hazy, as if the only thing that exists in the world is the sensation of Yuuri's hot lips and tongue dancing with his own, the fingers entwined in his hair, Yuuri's toned, flexible body under his palms, and the rhythmic pressure against his quickly growing arousal. Yuuri is dominating the kiss, and Viktor gladly lets him.

After a few minutes of heated kissing, grinding, and groping, Viktor feels his gut tightening up. He breaks the kiss and shakily murmurs, "Dorogoy, please, I'm close."

Yuuri pulls away and steps back, terminating all contact with Viktor's body. Viktor, desperate for friction and so close to the edge, thrusts his hips forward in an attempt to find friction, but whines in defeat when he can't find any. Yuuri smirks at his desperation. "No. I don't want this to end so soon, Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov."

Viktor moans softly at that. "Love, that was so hot, call me that again…" Yuuri shakes his head. "No. You'll probably nut your jeans if I do." Viktor drops his head and lets out another defeated groan. Yuuri grabs his hand tightly. "Come on, let's take this to the bed," he says as he pulls him towards their bedroom.

When they enter the bedroom, Yuuri leans up to capture Viktor's lips in a short yet passionate kiss. When he breaks away with a loud smack, he takes a better look at the Russian.

Just from a bit of kissing and dry humping, Viktor's face is flushed, and his pupils are so dilated that the cyan in his eyes is barely perceptible. His silky silver hair is tangled from Yuuri's grabbing, and some of it is stuck to his forehead because of the sweat. His lips are slightly bruised and slick with spit from all that making out. His gray jeans have a big bulge in the front, as well as a small wet patch. Yuuri's mouth waters at the sight.

If I can do this much to Viktor in ten minutes, I wonder what else I can do tonight…

Yuuri grabs the lapel of Viktor's coat and slides it off his body. He feels his pants tighten even more at the way Viktor's sweater clings to his body and shows off his muscles and curves. He slips his fingers under the sweater and the thin t-shirt underneath, and pulls it up slowly and teasingly in an attempt to drive Viktor crazy without letting him come.

Viktor wants to complain and beg Yuuri to just take off the damn sweater already, but he actually enjoys the feeling of being teased and pushed to the edge without being able to cross the line. It makes him feel like a puppet on Yuuri's string.

When the sweater and t-shirt finally fall to the ground, Viktor sighs in relief. Yuuri swiftly unbuttons Viktor's jeans as well and lets them fall to his ankles, so that he is wearing nothing but his black briefs, which aren't doing jack shit to cover his hard, leaking, and flushed length.

Yuuri pulls down the briefs and flashes his Eros eyes at Viktor. "Wow, look how desperate you are for me," he declares, playing with the flushed tip and making Viktor gasp. "Yuuri, please!"

"Please what?"

"Please, just do me already…"

Yuuri wants to do exactly that, but teasing Viktor is always more fun. Seeing the Living Legend, rumored to be some invincible casanova, devolve into a horny mess in front of Yuuri is quite a sight.

One good way to do that is to use Viktor's own quote against him. "Wow, we're a bit impatient today!"

Viktor frowns. "Yuuri, don't use my words to mock me!"

Yuuri makes a stern expression. "Are you telling me what to do? I'm afraid I can't fuck you if you defy me so much."

Viktor bites his lip. God damn. Yuuri is inherently irresistible to Viktor, but he's a whole new level of sexy when he becomes like this. "N-No. I'd never tell you what to do off the ice, Dorogoy," he replies reverently. Yuuri smirks. "Good. I thought so too. So, you still interested in getting pounded tonight?"

Viktor nods desperately. "Yes, please."

Yuuri sighs. "Whether or not I want to give it to you depends on how well you behave tonight, okay, Coach Viten'ka?" Viktor nods, heart skipping a beat at the nickname.

"Good. Now get on your hands and knees so I can do this properly."

Half an hour later, the room is filled with obscene squelching noises as Yuuri pumps four lube-saturated fingers in and out of Viktor's sensitive pink entrance. Viktor's grunts and shouts are equally obscene, but they're muffled by the expensive Egyptian cotton sheets between his teeth. He sees stars every time Yuuri's fingers tantalizingly brush against his prostate.

Yuuri has been slowly taking him apart for the last thirty minutes, teasing him with one finger and adding one more at a time until Viktor's mind had grown fuzzy and unable to think coherently. On top of that, Yuuri has been clenching the base of his cock every few minutes to stave off any potential orgasms. Now Viktor is lying prone on the bed, quivering and nearly sobbing as Yuuri plunges his fingers in and out, avoiding his prostate on purpose. He looks and feels absolutely ruined.

But not ruined enough to satisfy Yuuri.

The bespectacled man laughs and pulls his fingers out of Viktor's body, causing him to whine. "Look at you, Viten'ka. You're so thirsty. I haven't even put it inside you and you're shaking like a washing machine."

Viktor's mind is bleary, and he just feels the overwhelming desire to come. He immediately reaches for his own length, but Yuuri slaps his hand away, resulting in Viktor grumbling in a mix of frustration and arousal. "Don't even think about it. That's cheating. Now, I'm going to get something, and when I come back, you better not be touching yourself. Understand me?"

Viktor just makes an incoherent, muffled hmm noise.

"No. Use your words, Viktor."

He raises his head sllightly and releases the cotton sheet from between his teeth. "Yes."

Yuuri smiles softly and innocently, as if he hadn't been messing with Viktor for the last half hour. "Thank you." He retreats into the living room and returns a minute later, holding a hundred-dollar black silk tie that Viktor bought Yuuri in the Armani outlet.

Yuuri ditches the innocent smile and puts his seductive smirk back on. Viktor adores how he can switch between cuteness and sexiness so easily. "I thought it would be a good time to debut this tie." He sits on the edge of the bed and leans forward. Viktor's half-lidded eyes shoot open as he feels the tie loop around his wrists firmly. "Oh, yes," he groans. He loves having his hands bound, rendered incapable; it gives him that feeling of being Yuuri's subject, or better yet, his toy.

Yuuri scoots back and admires his work. "You've been pretty obedient up to this point, so I guess I should reward you, but… I don't know how."

"You can fuck me," Viktor blurts out.

"Did I ask?" Yuuri narrows his eyes at Viktor, who responds with a sigh and a no. Yuuri shrugs. "I guess I'll fuck you. But not because you told me to. I want to get off, so you just got lucky this time." The Russian sighs in relief.

Yuuri leans in close so that he can whisper in Viktor's ear. "Also, I want you to know that you're mine." Viktor trembles slightly in arousal. Yuuri palms himself through his pants, sighing a bit.

"Yuuri darling, you look beautiful in my jacket, but your clothes would look better on the floor," Viktor quips, only half-joking. To his surprise, Yuuri complies. He immediately unbuttons his cuffed blue jeans, sliding them down to his ankles tantalizingly. He lets Viktor's Team Russia jacket slide down his shoulders and fall to the floor and reaches for his turtleneck sweater, making sure to take his time to mess with Viktor again.

When he finally slips off his boxers so he is fully naked, Viktor sighs in relief, but is left bewildered when Yuuri bends over to pick up the red and white jacket. "You know how I'm going to make you mine, Viktor?"

Yuuri puts the jacket on without zipping it. It looks quite baggy on Yuuri because his frame is smaller than Viktor's, but Viktor's mouth waters at how incredibly sexy Yuuri looks, wearing nothing but Viktor's jacket. It makes Viktor feel like he is truly Yuuri's.

"Now I can do this properly, until there is no question that you are mine only."

Vikor shudders in delight at the idea of being pounded by Yuuri while he is wearing Viktor's prized, iconic Team Russia jacket. He just wants to feel claimed, taken, and he wants it now.

Yuuri picks up the condom and the bottle of lube lying at the foot of the bed. He tears open the condom packet and rolls it onto his cock unhurriedly, drizzling the lube on it generously afterward. "Yuuri, please, please, just fuck me," Viktor half-shouts, tears forming in his eyes again.

The younger man smirks and smacks Viktor's sculpted ass, eliciting a gasp. "You're extra needy for your Yuuri today, huh? Just how I like it."

Yuuri brushes his tip against Viktor's fluttering pink rim, and Viktor's breath catches. At a maddeningly slow pace, he pushes in, inch by inch, sighing at the sensation of the tight heat surrounding him, and the way Viktor hisses and twitches and gasps. By the time Yuuri is fully inside, a shudder lightly passes through his body. "Shit," he mutters.

He pulls back at the same maddeningly slow pace. Viktor bites the expensive bedsheet again and moans in a mixture of pleasure and protest. " Zolotse , you're driving me crazy," he manages to shakily exclaim amidst his hazy thoughts. He can't see Yuuri's face, but he knows that there is a smug smirk there.

"I know."

Yuuri thrusts back in more forcefully, and a throaty, shaky moan escapes Viktor's lips . "More! Please!" Yuuri draws his hips back once more and starts legitimately pounding him until the room is filled with a mix of their lewd noises: Yuuri's thighs rapidly smacking Viktor's ass, and both of their throaty moans and grunts.

Viktor just wants to grab on the sheets for dear life, but he doesn't want to ruin a fine silk tie, so he balls his fists so hard that his nails leave pink crescent-shaped marks in his palms.

Yuuri digs his nails into Viktor's muscular butt and pulls him back so he can reach deeper. Every thrust sets each nerve in Viktor's body on fire, until all he can do is scream and tremble and babble.

Yuuri pants harshly. "Wow!" Viktor's breath catches in anticipation."You're Viktor Nikiforov, five-time world champion, and you used to be the most eligible bachelor in the world, correct?"

Yuuri is thrusting so fast, so hard, but he's missing Viktor's most sensitive spot on purpose. Nonetheless, Viktor can feel Yuuri's cock slamming against the back of his own cock, and his eyes roll back in his head.

"I saw how those girls were - nnh!- looking at you in the mall today. Everyone is obsessed with you, they looked like they wanted to eat you up. Well, I can't exactly blame them. They have good taste in men."

The sound of skin sloppily slapping speeds up.

"I wish they could see you now, though. You're a fucking w-whore, so needy for me. Totally wrecked and desperate for Katsuki Yuuri's dick to impale him." Viktor's cock throbs hungrily at the way Yuuri's filthy, sultry words are taking him apart as well.

"Not just any dick, only Katsuki Yuuri's dick. You love my Katsudon, don't you, you hungry-ass hoe?" Yuuri internally cringes at his awkwardness and inexperience in talking dirty. Seriously? Katsudon? Hungry-ass hoe? Regardless, it's clearly working on Viktor, and they're both too far gone to care that much, so he doesn't stop.

"You love taking my cock while I'm wearing your trademark jacket. That's how needy you are for me. That's how much you love being mine." Yuuri adjusts his hips slightly so that he can brush against a spot that makes Viktor throw his head back and yowl.

"Do you hear those desperate noises you're making, Viten'ka? I'm the only one who gets to listen to them. Nobody else in the world. Everyone wants you, but you only want me. Oh… you, ah, don't just want me, you absolutely need me."

Every rapid, rough strike against his prostate makes Viktor feel as if he's died and gone to heaven. Yuuri grins smugly at his reaction. "It's like you love to be my sex toy. You love when I tie you up and use your asshole, and fuck you like I mean it. Isn't that right, you perverted old geezer?"

Viktor feels himself getting close. His gut tightens, and his neglected, aching cock throbs in anticipation, purple at the tip, but he is unable to come.

"You don't want anyone else filling you up the way I can, right?"

Amidst his trance, Viktor manages to stutter out, "No, please, baby, only love you, close." Yuuri understands, and flips Viktor over so he's lying on his back. Viktor relishes the feeling of Yuuri's hands on his chest, pinning him down firmly.

"Viktor, you're mine, aren't you?"

"AH! I'm yours, yours, love you…"

When his eyes refocus, Viktor almost comes all over himself from seeing Yuuri's determined and hungry expression, and the way his own jacket seductively hangs off Yuuri's body. As if predicting his reaction, Yuuri grabs the base of his cock, denying an impending orgasm for what feels like the hundredth time that night.

"I want you to come while watching me fuck you. I've fantasized about doing it with you while wearing this jacket since I was a horny teen, y'know. If I let go, will you come?"

"Yes! God, please, YES!" He roars.

Yuuri lets go, and one thrust is all it takes for Viktor to shake and come hard all over himself, mouth hanging open in a silent scream. Yuuri keeps pounding his ass roughly until he is writhing from overstimulation. Viktor can tell that Yuuri is getting close too, by his breathy little moans and irregular thrusts.

"Viktor, I'm going to come all over your fucking body. Can you make this fucking cock come? Can you?"

Yuuri slowly pulls out of Viktor's body and yanks the condom off. Despite his exhausted, delirious state, Viktor reaches up to grab Yuuri's throbbing cock and pumps it as fast as he can, until Yuuri is coming with a yelp.

The viscous, white ribbons splatter all over Viktor's abs, chest, face, and hair, as Yuuri signs his name all over Viktor's body and claims him properly.

Sated and sleepy, Yuuri examines Viktor once more as he unties his wrists. Viktor is red, panting harshly, his hair completely messed up, his lips bruised, and his body covered in their mixed fluids. Just as wrecked as Yuuri wants him to look.

Viktor hears one last thing before slipping out of consciousness.

"Never take your eyes off of me."

When Viktor feels himself come back to Earth a minute later, he blinks rapidly until his eyes are focused. He feels sticky, used, marked, sore, and just well-fucked in general. He chuckles, and immediately groans because that chuckle makes his abs hurt.

Wow, he thinks. My Yuuri really went all out tonight. I'm truly becoming an old man, aren't I?

"Viktor!" That familiar voice breaks him out of his thoughts. He looks up and sees Yuuri holding a damp towel and a bottle of sports drink. That dominant sex god from earlier is gone, and the soft and sweet Yuuri is back.

Viktor will never get tired of how Yuuri can switch between sexiness and cuteness so easily.

Yuuri sets the bottle on the bedside table and wipes Viktor's body down, removing the stains of their mixed semen from his body. His concerned, bespectacled onyx eyes meet Viktor's. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't too rough, was I?"

Viktor chuckles. "Oh, you were rough. " He watches Yuuri's eyes fill with panic. "Oh, no, I'm so sorry. I totally lost control! I didn't mean to call you a whore, or a perverted old geezer! I totally went overboard, I swear I didn't mean the things I said! Well, mostly..."

"No, no, I loved it." Yuuri looks confused for a second, but relief washes over his expressions. Viktor smiles reassuringly at his anxious fiance. "It's so cute how you say such funny things while doing something so lewd. And you did so well, lyubov moya. So good for me. I love you."

Yuuri flushes at the praise and smiles. "I'm glad. Love you too." He slips off the red and white jacket and hands it to Viktor with a crooked, easy grin.

Viktor laughs, despite the soreness in his abs. "Wow, this isn't a team jacket anymore. You've turned it into lingerie, Yuuri!"

"W-What? Viktor, don't say things like that, it's so embarrassing…"

Viktor laughs and crushes his fiance into a hug. "I'm just playing. Come on, let's go take a shower together. We'll be even dirtier when we come out, hopefully."

"Viktor!"

The next morning, Viktor wakes up earlier than Yuuri, as usual. He watches his sleeping beauty adoringly. The steady rise and fall of his chest, his soft black hair sprawled underneath his head on the pillow, his long lashes casting a slight shadow on his cheeks, his parted pink lips.

When Viktor's eyes find the red and white jacket at the foot of the bed, he chuckles.

He'll have to try very hard not to get hot and bothered the next time he wears it to a competition, or he'll end up soiling the ice like Chris.

But it would be worth it.