by Marian Tee
The fourth song played.
One Last Time.
And then it was completely quiet.
“Maybe...69?” a young cameraman hazarded.
At the suggestion, Seri and Vassi’s viewers nodded. That would probably be it.
Then the fifth song played.
Love Me Harder.
The crew looked at each other in interest. How would the Russian god interpret this? Perhaps he would fuck his woman so hard she would see stars? Or maybe he would end up breaking furniture like that guy from Twilight?
And then they heard Seri scream, “Oh God. That’s. So. Hard. I’m. Practically. Seeing. Stars!”
A moment later, they heard something crash and break.
They looked at each other in awe.
Vassi had actually managed both!
Another moment later, and they heard Seri plead, “Not my butt!”
A collective sound escaped the crowd.
Woooooooooow.
Thirty minutes later, Vassi had to carry Seri out of his trailer. When she had tried to walk, she had almost fallen immediately on her face, with her legs having turned to jelly after Vassi’s little “game.”
“I’m never going to play any games with you again,” she muttered as Vassi stepped down.
Vassi didn’t answer, but he was grinning at something behind her.
Frowning, she turned her head around and almost screamed.
Oh my God, what was the whole crew doing here?
A second later, she noticed the way they were all red-faced but smirking.
Oh my God, had they heard?
“D’err mo,” she heard Vassi suddenly mutter behind her.
Following his gaze, she realized what he was looking at and muttered, “B’lyad.”
Her family was here, too.
Davey rushed to her, mumbling, “I’m so sorry. I tried, I really tried to distract them and prevent them from coming here, but you know how weak I get when Misha threatens me with bodily harm. But I swear, I really tried resisting still – but then Sergei threatened me, too, saying when he’s finished with me—-”
Davey shuddered.
And knowing Davey, Seri thought, it was probably out of pleasure.
Fyodor walked forward, saying in a steely voice, “Come here, baby.” To Vassi, he said curtly, “Put her down.”
Vassi looked at Seri and only lowered her to her feet at her nod. She took one step, and her legs still gave way, making Fyodor curse as he caught her.
He pulled his daughter to him before looking at Vassi frostily. “You—-” As if his English was no longer enough, the rest of his words was delivered in a furious stream of Russian.
When he was done, he looked down at Seri. “We’re going home now.”
“Yes, Papa,” she said meekly.
As soon as she turned away, she heard the sound of scuffling. Unable to help it, she stole a look behind her, and her eyes widened as Misha punched Vassi in the gut.
“Vassi!” She tried to go to him, but Vassi held his hand up, forcing her to stop.
“Stand back, leech.” And the foolish man was actually grinning when he spoke. “This means they accept me.”
“What? Are you crazy?”
He started to answer, but Sergei had stepped forward and punched him in the jaw.
“Oh my God, Sergei, stop!”
Vassi rubbed his jaw. “It’s okay.” He grinned at his older brothers. “Sergei and Misha wouldn’t have punched their little brother for anything, but it’s a different matter altogether if they see me as the boy who’s taken away their little sister’s precious vir—-”
Vassi’s grin disappeared when he realized it was Fyodor standing in front of him.
His father had once earned his wages as a pugilist.
He cleared his throat. “Ah, Papa, I was just kidding—-”
“Your mouth needs cleaning, boy.”
B’lyad.
And then he was flying at the force of Fyodor’s blow. His back hit the trailer, and he slid down to the ground.
Seri rushed to Vassi’s side the moment her father moved away, sinking to her knees as she demanded, “Are you okay?”
His lips curved in a teasing smile. “I will be...if you kiss me to make me feel better.”
Behind Seri, he saw his father and brothers gnash their teeth.
Even though she was embarrassed, she placed a quick kiss on the bruise on his jaw. “Now, let’s go—-” When he shook his head, she demanded exasperatedly, “What now?”
“You kissed the wrong place.”
“I did?”
“You need to kiss me where it would make me feel good.” He looked down pointedly, and Seri moaned.
Seri’s boys started cracking their knuckles very audibly.
Vassi laughed.
“Oh, will you stop messing with them!” She helped him up and couldn’t help but wince a bit at his weight.
“I can’t help it,” Vassi answered honestly. “It feels too damn good.”
“Are you a masochist?”
“You don’t understand.” He cupped her face. “You were my most painful secret for years. And now I can let the world know I love you.”
Oh.
He kissed her forehead. “Solnishka moya...lyublyu tebya vsem sertsem, vsey dushoyu.”
Her eyes started to sting.
I love you with all my heart, with all my soul.
She beat his chest feebly. “You’re not supposed to be this sweet in public. Dammit.”
He only grinned. “But?”
She mumbled, “I love you, too.”
“If you do,” he teased, “say I’m your favorite boy in the family.”
Their father and brothers groaned.
“Vassi—-”
“Please?”
Unable to refuse him when he looked at her like that, she said helplessly, “Of course you’re my favorite boy.”
“Good girl. As a reward, I’m going to fill you with my cum—-”
Seri suddenly found herself snatched from Vassi’s arms, and she looked up at Fyodor in confusion. “Papa?”
“Your brothers are just going to play,” Fyodor told her reassuringly. Over his shoulder, he told Sergei and Misha, “Net nikakogo miloserdiya.”
Her brow furrowed.
It was only when they had reached Fyodor’s limousine when she finally managed to translate what that meant.
No mercy.
She looked at Fyodor in dismay. “Papa!”
The End
Author's Note
01 April 2020
Hello new and old readers. It's already April Fools Day where I am, and while I have nothing against those who would still like to play pranks on other people, it goes without saying than any prank about the ongoing pandemic might be a little...off. As an alternative, however, why don't we use this day to exert extra effort in making people smile and laugh?
Here in the Philippines, I admit to experiencing fear and misgivings at the start, wondering how we would cope against the virus, considering we're a Third World country. But as the days of our quarantine have turned into weeks, I realize that the size of our economy became immaterial when one took into account the Filipino spirit. I've been moved to tears countless times, seeing how my fellow Filipinos have worked together and helped each other. There's still room for improvement - there always is - but we're doing our best, and that's what matters the most. The change starts with us, and as Mother Teresa said, "Kind words are short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless."
There are harder times ahead for all of us, but we need to focus on the positive and keep our faith in God.
Rooting for all of us,
Marian
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P.P.P.S. Excerpts on the next pages are for books connected to My Russian Stepbrothers.
My Russian Billionaire
(Story of Sergei Grachyov, Vassi and Seri's eldest brother)
Professionally accomplished but socially awkward, Fredericka Spears can’t ask for anything else in her life except for one thing – to know the pleasure of a man’s possession. The truth is, she’s tired of being a virgin. She’s tired of pleasuring herself while fantasizing about a man she can never have.
A man who’s beautiful, powerful, and well six years younger—-
Like she says: he’s a man she can’t ever have.
To put an end to her agony and stupid fantasies, Fredericka decides to take a lover, but guess who volunteers for the job?
The beautiful, powerful, and younger Russian billionaire Sergei Grachyov – also known as that man she can’t ever have.
*****
Fredericka was in the middle of pulling the covers up when she heard Sergei walk back into the bedroom. A moment later and he was standing in front of her, and her eyes widened when he started unbuttoning his shirt.
“What are you doing?” she demanded shrilly.
“I never sleep with my clothes on.” As he spoke, the billionaire had already dispensed with his shirt, leaving him bare-chested.
Her throat went dry, and her heart started hammering against her chest again.
Abs.
Too, too much abs.
“You’re staring at me again,” Sergei drawled.
Shit.
She whipped her gaze away, muttering, “It’s because you’re so ugly.”
But the billionaire only laughed, his ego immense enough to be insult-proof.
“You’re doing this to torment me, aren’t you?” she accused him.
“Not at all,” the billionaire dismissed as he placed his neatly folded shirt on the bedside table. “I’m just ticking another item off our bucket list.” Dark eyes gleaming, he looked at her, saying silkily, “See each other’s naked bodies and not be grossed out.”
Oh!
She remembered reading that line from the bucket list—-
And then she saw the billionaire reach for the buttons of his pants.
Shit.
Fredericka quickly turned around and switched the light off, the same time she heard the faint but distinctive sound of a zipper being pulled down.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
Fredericka scooted to the edge of the bed as she felt it dip, and her body tensed when she felt the billionaire get into bed with her.
You asked for this, Fredericka Spears.
Darkness prevented her from seeing anything, but the thought that Sergei Grachyov was lying next to her, without a stitch of clothes on, was tortuous and made her barely able to breathe. Swallowing, she asked in a small voice, “ Are you really naked?”
Instead of answering, Sergei started moving closer.
Love You Again
(Story of Yuki Himura and Katerina Chariot)
Let’s just call him X - the first and only guy I’ve ever loved – also the first and only guy who’s broken my heart. I used to think that trauma caused by ugly breakups was only a thing in books, movies – and yes, manga – until of course it happened to me.
On hindsight, I really should have known better. He had so many issues it was only a matter of time before one of them drove us apart. And even if that hadn’t happened, we still wouldn’t have worked out. He was this perfect, gorgeous guy who had everything going for him while I...well, let’s just say I didn’t turn out to be this super-smart girl everyone thought me to be.
I hate him as much as I fear him, so much so that even in my dreams I can’t make myself think of his name, much less say it. It’s like my mind’s completely blocked the sound of it, and now his name works like a breakdown trigger. If I let myself say his name, that’s it, and believe me – what happens after isn’t pretty.
So yeah, it’s that bad between us, but I’m determined to put it all behind me now. I’ve moved to another country, doing my best to get my shite together. I’ve even made myself attend a goukon (a group dating thing) in hopes of finding love again.
Everything’s going well...
Until I bumped into him.
X.
Bloody. Bloody. Bloody hell.
The sight of him has my world spinning out of its axis, my face draining of color, my throat locking oxygen out—-
I can’t remember feeling more terrified than I was at that moment. But the worst thing is – I can’t remember when the last time I felt so alive either.
*****
Yuki is no longer moving, but he doesn’t turn to face me either, and bloody hell, but it has me torn between crying and laughing again. Oh, Yuki. Only a god would tear a girl’s heart into pieces and then expect her to run after him.
My knees knock against each other as I slowly make my way to him. With every step I take, a part of me waits for something to stop this from happening, for someone to interrupt us, just for the fates to prove I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.
But nothing happens, and gradually the inches between us fade into millimeters, until there’s no room to change my mind. Once again, azure meets emerald in an untouchable second, and oh. This part never changes. He’s still the Ursula to my Ariel, and the sheer beauty of him takes my voice away.
Time waltzes by, and sunlight flickers between us. I draw my breath then draw another. “So...”
“What do you want?” The hardness of his voice is jarring and incisive, smashing the whitewashed grip of nostalgia on my reality.
And just like that I’m back in the present, and I remember the most painful truth: the only boy I’ve ever loved...no longer wants anything to do with me. It’s in the way he looks at me, talks to me. The way his entire body is so tense, like he can’t wait for me to disappear.
Why? Why are you like this? Why?
I see his jaw harden, and it’s only then I realize that I hadn’t just cried the words out in my mind. They’re out in the open, like an exposed wound I can no longer deny.
“Why should it matter?” he snarls. “And shouldn’t this be the other way around? Shouldn’t you be angrier with me?”
“G-good question.” And this time, my laughter wins over the tears, but the sound comes out ugly and choking, and it only makes his jaw start ticking.
“So why the fuck aren’t you?”
“Because I can’t.” Again, the words are out before I can think them through, and again they’re not making me look any stronger. It’s the opposite, and if all he knew earlier was that I was hurting, what he knows now is worse.
But I’m way past caring.
Lifting my chin, I say haltingly, “I k-know what you asked Seiji and Momo—-”
He cuts me off with a mocking laugh. “And that’s all it takes for you to forgive me?” His voice turns scathing. “One nice little deed and it’s enough to wipe the slate clean?”
“Why are you being like this?” I demand shakily. “You would never have asked your friends to check on me if—-” I manage to stop myself, but the cold contempt in his gaze tells me it is too late.
“Since you seem to need me to spell it out – no one,” he stresses in a hard voice, “is asking you to figure out anything. But if you want to know the truth, then it’s that I made a fucking mistake. I wanted you to have Momo as a friend as a way of making up for dumping you. I never thought you’d be stupid enough to read anything else in it, and that’s my mistake.” His voice
becomes grim. “That’s all this is. A mistake. Is that clear enough for you?”
I don’t answer.
I can’t.
Mistakes like me don’t have the right to.
