fic: Branded - Jalex
Title: Branded
Fandom: Wizards of Waverly Place
Warning: possesiveness, incest, the usual
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Pairing: Justin/Alex
Summary: He's always been hers.
If Max was bullied, she'd enact vengeance without a backwards glance. The same is true with Justin; it's just the thoughts behind it that's different. With Max it's all about pride and family and being a big sister. With Justin it's all territory and rights; a growling voice in the back of her head claiming, "Mine."
She and she alone own the rights to Justin Russo, and has since as far back as she can remember. Since the first time a spell went wrong (ice cream tastes so much better than peas) and he was there to chastise her for not eating her vegetables ("They'll make you healthy ") and then stopped her tears (the creamy coolness still tasted like those evil little green monsters) with a hug, leaving stray thoughts and impressions floating around in her head; warm, home, hers.
It was weird when her big brother got his first girlfriend. Suddenly, there was another girl in his life (their mother didn’t count; she wasn't really a girl). Someone he gave his special Alex Smiles too, and bought cup cakes for. She didn't like it, but she kept quiet and waited. The girl came suddenly; surely she'd go away just as fast. And she did, as did all the other girls who thought they could stake claim to what was rightfully hers, and Alex relaxed.
She always knew he'd never marry. There would be no signing of a legal document, no ceremony with a proclamation of ownership, no girls joking of "catching herself a good one" over bridal magazines, no symbolic collar around his finger (he already had an owner); just as she never worried about her current romantic interest being "the one." She'd never marry either.
"Why'd you do it?" He tries for confusion and fails.
"Do what?" She never did like to make things easy, but he needs to hear the words and isn't in the mood to play games.
"He's talking of pressing charges." She's not a minor anymore; consequences are far more severe now.
"For kicking him in the balls?" She laughs as she shrugs it off. "I'll just say it was self defense." She sobers at his stony expression, turning her eyes away as a soft sigh of resignation escapes from parted lips. "I just…" one hand goes out from her side in a vague meaningless gesture, "didn't like what he said. It's true," a teasing glint enters narrow eyes as she looks at him, "you do deserve a good ass kicking, but-" once again her eyes dart away from his, her voice lowering, getting softer, more honest, "it's not his to kick. You're mine." He jerks back a little, and her eyes jump up to lock with his as she back tracks, "My brother. You're my brother, just like Ma-"
"You're mine too." She shouldn’t have heard him, the words the softest of sounds in the still room. They both just stand there, each staring, each understanding. Nothings ever spoken, not fully, and yet too much is revealed, exposed and bare. So raw it nearly physically hurts hanging between them.
She breaks first, moving through the suddenly too thick too dry air to embrace him. He's frozen beneath her hands, unnaturally still in her hold before slowly his arms come up to wrap around her like steel bands and she can't move away, not that she even wants to try.
When he pulls back slightly, head tilting down to hers, she doesn't try to stop him. The kiss burns like a brand, scorching her lips before seeming to spread over the rest of her skin. It hurts, but she can't, won't, stop, her own mouth coming into play as she presses back, teeth biting too hard, determined to leave her own mark.
She wears tanks tops the next few days, proudly displaying the dark hand shaped bruises on her arms. Harper asks questions of concern that she blows off, and Justin smiles knowingly every time. She doesn't comment, her face mirroring his when she sees the remaining signs of a bloody lip he never bothered to magically heal.
Alex wakes up sore after every night she spends with Justin, but she can't bring herself to complain. Instead she finds herself cutting an inch off her favorite shorts; showing glimpses of the perfect imprint of her brother's teeth on her inner thigh.
The bruises and bite marks don't stop and Harper becomes increasingly worried over her best friend's new found desire to show off every blemish to her once flawless skin.
"Are you sure it's healthy? I mean, he's hurting you." Her voice drops down and she leans forward conspiringly.
Alex lets out a sigh of exasperation, she's heard this all before, and turns to the auburn headed girl. "Maybe I like it," she nearly snaps.
Dark eyes widen before taken this bit of news in stride; years of learning to handle the mischievous young woman having taught her to adjust quickly. "Oh, well sadism and masochism is much more accepted in today's culture as a sexual norm, and I for one plan to fully embrace this new side of you." She pauses, hands come up and fingers twirling as she hurries to clarify, "Just not, you know, with actual pain part. Or with the actually embracing, cause I don’t really think of you that way and I don't think your boyfriend would like that. By the way, who is your boyfriend?"
"We want to keep it a secret. More exciting." The lie slips easily from her tongue and she's completely unsurprised when Harper buys it without question.
The campus is big, but she knows his schedule and she sees him bent over a text book during his lunch, the top three buttons on his oxford undone, allowing peeks at smooth skin and red scratch marks. Possessive pride swells within her and after his Advanced Chemistry but before his Anthropology class Alex shoves him behind the stairwell. She runs lips over the reddened skin, soothing the sharp intakes of breath on ever nip of blunt teeth with gentle kisses. Pink tongue darts out to taste smooth skin and dip into the sensitive flesh of his belly button before moving down to the sprinkle of dark hair above the button fly of his jeans. He's panting above her, hands grasping at empty air as she oh so damn slowly releases the metal from its denim prison. She chuckles at his startled yelp when she yanks hard, pulling both materials down to his ankles. Hers.
It's no surprise she has admirers. Young men and boys alike look on from afar with a kind of painful longing; if the fact that she's out of the majority of Justin's alumni's grasp, the symbols of ownership, his signature, proudly displayed on her exposed skin should be warning enough that's she's claimed. Should be, but isn't.
Shane's a nice enough guy; a little geeky, a little awkward, but nice. It takes her nearly twenty minutes for her to realize that he's flirting with her.
"What are you doing?" She tries to bite back a laugh, biting her lip to hide the smile threatening to split her face at the ridiculousness of it all.
"Asking you to dinner." He blinks rapidly, shifting his backpack. She notices that his eyes are rather pretty, and his hair flips and flops in an endearing way. A year ago she may have said yes.
"No." It's easier on him if she's quick, blunt. And if she moves the strap of her tank top, rubbing the fabric against the fresh abrasions (soft flesh and concrete walls) it's just to make her point a little clearer.
She doesn't notice the dark eyes watching the exchange.
Later, while eating lunch with her brother, Justin's hand comes up and rests on the back of her neck, fingers lightly stroking the bared skin there. She looks up to give him a smile, failing to notice Shane pausing in his walk by, eyes fixed on the position they're in, and leans into his touch. She doesn't miss the smile that splits Justin's face as she rests her hand on his knee and steals a strawberry out of his fruit cup.
Hoping to get all previously updated stories on other sites on here within the week. Here's hopin'.
Fandom: Wizards of Waverly Place
Warning: possesiveness, incest, the usual
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Pairing: Justin/Alex
Summary: He's always been hers.
If Max was bullied, she'd enact vengeance without a backwards glance. The same is true with Justin; it's just the thoughts behind it that's different. With Max it's all about pride and family and being a big sister. With Justin it's all territory and rights; a growling voice in the back of her head claiming, "Mine."
She and she alone own the rights to Justin Russo, and has since as far back as she can remember. Since the first time a spell went wrong (ice cream tastes so much better than peas) and he was there to chastise her for not eating her vegetables ("They'll make you healthy ") and then stopped her tears (the creamy coolness still tasted like those evil little green monsters) with a hug, leaving stray thoughts and impressions floating around in her head; warm, home, hers.
It was weird when her big brother got his first girlfriend. Suddenly, there was another girl in his life (their mother didn’t count; she wasn't really a girl). Someone he gave his special Alex Smiles too, and bought cup cakes for. She didn't like it, but she kept quiet and waited. The girl came suddenly; surely she'd go away just as fast. And she did, as did all the other girls who thought they could stake claim to what was rightfully hers, and Alex relaxed.
She always knew he'd never marry. There would be no signing of a legal document, no ceremony with a proclamation of ownership, no girls joking of "catching herself a good one" over bridal magazines, no symbolic collar around his finger (he already had an owner); just as she never worried about her current romantic interest being "the one." She'd never marry either.
"Why'd you do it?" He tries for confusion and fails.
"Do what?" She never did like to make things easy, but he needs to hear the words and isn't in the mood to play games.
"He's talking of pressing charges." She's not a minor anymore; consequences are far more severe now.
"For kicking him in the balls?" She laughs as she shrugs it off. "I'll just say it was self defense." She sobers at his stony expression, turning her eyes away as a soft sigh of resignation escapes from parted lips. "I just…" one hand goes out from her side in a vague meaningless gesture, "didn't like what he said. It's true," a teasing glint enters narrow eyes as she looks at him, "you do deserve a good ass kicking, but-" once again her eyes dart away from his, her voice lowering, getting softer, more honest, "it's not his to kick. You're mine." He jerks back a little, and her eyes jump up to lock with his as she back tracks, "My brother. You're my brother, just like Ma-"
"You're mine too." She shouldn’t have heard him, the words the softest of sounds in the still room. They both just stand there, each staring, each understanding. Nothings ever spoken, not fully, and yet too much is revealed, exposed and bare. So raw it nearly physically hurts hanging between them.
She breaks first, moving through the suddenly too thick too dry air to embrace him. He's frozen beneath her hands, unnaturally still in her hold before slowly his arms come up to wrap around her like steel bands and she can't move away, not that she even wants to try.
When he pulls back slightly, head tilting down to hers, she doesn't try to stop him. The kiss burns like a brand, scorching her lips before seeming to spread over the rest of her skin. It hurts, but she can't, won't, stop, her own mouth coming into play as she presses back, teeth biting too hard, determined to leave her own mark.
She wears tanks tops the next few days, proudly displaying the dark hand shaped bruises on her arms. Harper asks questions of concern that she blows off, and Justin smiles knowingly every time. She doesn't comment, her face mirroring his when she sees the remaining signs of a bloody lip he never bothered to magically heal.
Alex wakes up sore after every night she spends with Justin, but she can't bring herself to complain. Instead she finds herself cutting an inch off her favorite shorts; showing glimpses of the perfect imprint of her brother's teeth on her inner thigh.
The bruises and bite marks don't stop and Harper becomes increasingly worried over her best friend's new found desire to show off every blemish to her once flawless skin.
"Are you sure it's healthy? I mean, he's hurting you." Her voice drops down and she leans forward conspiringly.
Alex lets out a sigh of exasperation, she's heard this all before, and turns to the auburn headed girl. "Maybe I like it," she nearly snaps.
Dark eyes widen before taken this bit of news in stride; years of learning to handle the mischievous young woman having taught her to adjust quickly. "Oh, well sadism and masochism is much more accepted in today's culture as a sexual norm, and I for one plan to fully embrace this new side of you." She pauses, hands come up and fingers twirling as she hurries to clarify, "Just not, you know, with actual pain part. Or with the actually embracing, cause I don’t really think of you that way and I don't think your boyfriend would like that. By the way, who is your boyfriend?"
"We want to keep it a secret. More exciting." The lie slips easily from her tongue and she's completely unsurprised when Harper buys it without question.
The campus is big, but she knows his schedule and she sees him bent over a text book during his lunch, the top three buttons on his oxford undone, allowing peeks at smooth skin and red scratch marks. Possessive pride swells within her and after his Advanced Chemistry but before his Anthropology class Alex shoves him behind the stairwell. She runs lips over the reddened skin, soothing the sharp intakes of breath on ever nip of blunt teeth with gentle kisses. Pink tongue darts out to taste smooth skin and dip into the sensitive flesh of his belly button before moving down to the sprinkle of dark hair above the button fly of his jeans. He's panting above her, hands grasping at empty air as she oh so damn slowly releases the metal from its denim prison. She chuckles at his startled yelp when she yanks hard, pulling both materials down to his ankles. Hers.
It's no surprise she has admirers. Young men and boys alike look on from afar with a kind of painful longing; if the fact that she's out of the majority of Justin's alumni's grasp, the symbols of ownership, his signature, proudly displayed on her exposed skin should be warning enough that's she's claimed. Should be, but isn't.
Shane's a nice enough guy; a little geeky, a little awkward, but nice. It takes her nearly twenty minutes for her to realize that he's flirting with her.
"What are you doing?" She tries to bite back a laugh, biting her lip to hide the smile threatening to split her face at the ridiculousness of it all.
"Asking you to dinner." He blinks rapidly, shifting his backpack. She notices that his eyes are rather pretty, and his hair flips and flops in an endearing way. A year ago she may have said yes.
"No." It's easier on him if she's quick, blunt. And if she moves the strap of her tank top, rubbing the fabric against the fresh abrasions (soft flesh and concrete walls) it's just to make her point a little clearer.
She doesn't notice the dark eyes watching the exchange.
Later, while eating lunch with her brother, Justin's hand comes up and rests on the back of her neck, fingers lightly stroking the bared skin there. She looks up to give him a smile, failing to notice Shane pausing in his walk by, eyes fixed on the position they're in, and leans into his touch. She doesn't miss the smile that splits Justin's face as she rests her hand on his knee and steals a strawberry out of his fruit cup.
Hoping to get all previously updated stories on other sites on here within the week. Here's hopin'.