(My friends' fanfic)
If you want to hate me then hate me. I don't care. I'll still get what I want, anyway. Honestly, Marik, your feelings aren't worth shit to me, because if they were, I wouldn't have gone through the trouble of getting the two of us alone like we are as of the moment.
This isn't going to be a happy ending, I'm afraid. Guilt won't cause me to fall in love with you, and you won't forgive me. We will remain bitter enemies until the end. All I ask is for one night to give you what you deserve.
I stare at your nearly nude figure upon the bed before me. You're not awake, and I highly doubt that you'll open those lovely eyes of yours anytime soon, either. But I can wait. After all, the second that I sense your consciousness, you're mine.
Until then, I'll humor myself.
It's quite hard to say what began this little infatuation with you. I suppose it all started during Battle City, where you took full reign of your host and terrorized the pharaoh and his idiot friends. I knew I wanted you because of your unbelievable attractions to control and power, both of which were so similar to my own. But, unlike myself, you had the audacity to act as if you were some unknown deity, demanding respect and submission from everyone you came into contact with. You should have been more sensible than to behave that way around me, Marik. Selfishness seldom has its rewards; look at where it's gotten you. You're sprawled out like the whore you always should have been. Unfortunately, no one's ever held the amount of courage that I do, which is a major disadvantage for yourself.
An hour passes, and my signature smirk has not left my face. I am far too excited to think of anything more than what I am about to do to you. And, whether you admit it or not, you'll like it. I know you'll like it. You enjoy giving pain, right? Well, how can receiving that same pain be any different?
I remove my last article of clothing before slowly climbing atop the bed, predatorily crawling your way. "I know you're not asleep anymore, Marik," I hiss, taking a seat upon your muscle-clad stomach.
You groan, "Bakura?" You then spend a minute or two trying to see clearly, but once you accomplish that, your confusion settles. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I want to play a game, Marik. It's called, 'Putting the Fucking Slut in His Place'. Sounds like fun, doesn't it?" I mock. Shaking my head, I laugh as you desperately try to untie the ropes that bind your wrists to the bedposts. "You're not getting away."
"Get the fuck off of me!" you scream, bucking your hips upward. But I am much too quick for that and I cling to you like a parasite. "I'm warning you, Bakura, let me--"
"Yes, that's right, Marik, keep struggling. It's more fun that way!" I must look absolutely sadistic, judging by the fear in your eyes. "If you're going to cry, then get it the hell over with. I don't want to deal with your pussy tears while fucking the feeling out of you." I fold my arms against my chest, waiting. But I know that you won't do what I say because that's just who you are. And, in a way, I admire that about you. If I hadn't chloroformed your ass half-way to the Shadow Realm, it would have been so much more difficult to have you to myself right now. "May I begin?" I focus, magically undressing you to reveal such a perfect body. Every limb, every inch of you has the potential to pleasure me beyond my wildest dreams. It is only right that we test that theory, isn't it?
It doesn't take much to completely dominate you. I think that the shock of losing the last shreds of dignity plays an important role in this scenario, does it not? You've become speechless, but the absolute horror that elicits is just priceless. I don't need you to beg me, for I know how terrified you are. But, being the arrogant fool that you are, you'll never vocalize your anxiety. Such a brave, brave boy. Ra, I love this too much, Marik.
"C'mon, Marik, be a man," I whisper before viciously dragging my tongue along the rim of your ear. You shudder and squirm beneath me, whimpering like a five-year-old brat. But your shivering is a sign of want, in my opinion. "You want this, Marik?" I taunt. One of my curious hands makes its way across the soft, tanned skin of your chest, stomach, and finally, your abdomen. I caress the area with great intensity, forcing myself to prolong this for as long as possible. Whatever it takes to make you suffer, I guess.
"I-I don't," you reply. The tone of your voice isn't the usual cockiness. No, it sounds a bit more like Malik's, which I find quite strange. Are you that afraid of me?
"Oh, I think you do. And I'm sure that you'll be happy to know that I am willing to give it to you." I sit with a look of triumph upon my pale face, gazing at you through glazing eyes. "Ready?" Suddenly, before I can make any move at all, you curse and thrash, condemning me with a verbal assault. Some of this cussing consists of words spoken in fluent Egyptian, all of which I understand without any trouble at all.
And now, you allow the tears to fall.
I've won, Marik. This isn't a fucking round of Duel Monsters, where you can make a godly return and win the game. No, I have you beaten. You never had a chance, actually. "I hope we can still be friends after this." You and I both know that this is false, but I honestly love to fuck with you that much. But now, the time has come. I'll show you what true pain is, whether you want it or not.
I lean forward, pressing my mouth against your quivering lips. My wandering tongue slides between your teeth, massaging your own tongue, completely lust-driven. I pull away for a moment, giving myself just enough time to say, "If you bite me, I'm not so sure that you'll ever leave this room. Understood?" You don't move, don't reply, but you lie as still as a corpse, waiting.
I continue to kiss you in a way that you, more than likely, are not accustomed to. You're probably used to being in control, but, and I am sorry to say this, those days are over. My experienced lips nearly bruise your skin as they heavily push on the flesh of your shoulder and travel downwards, unable to wait another second. I reveal my sharp, menacingly white canines, which I use to angrily draw blood from you, earning yelps of undesired groans. I shift, lowering my current position to the area between your legs to get one hell of a view. "Damn, Marik!" I laugh after noticing your impressive size. You turn away from me, mortified, cheeks on fire with embarrassment. "It's a good thing that I'm not the one being raped here, isn't it?" I plant a kiss upon your sensitive inner thigh, relishing each spasm of trembling I receive in return.
"C-can't you just stop?"
"Ah, so my victim's finally summoned his voice!" I say. "That was a ridiculous question. I've come this far, Marik! You're not going anywhere!" You can no longer hold that emotionless expression upon your gorgeous face. Wailing, you allow the mixed feelings of fear and hatred to release themselves, increasing my fun.
"No, no! I don't fucking want it!" you howl. "I-I-I'll give you the Millennium Rod for nothing at all! I swear, Bakura, I'll do anything but...this!"
"Enough!" I silence you with a light smack of the face. "If I were really that interested in the Millennium Rod, I'd have taken it by now. I want you, Marik. What is so hard to comprehend?" You fall into a pool of wordlessness once more, and I am obliged to thank you for that. "Now...where were we? Oh, yes, I remember!" Smiling, I throw myself at your entire package, admiring it for a moment. "I must admit; you're quite the looker." Moving beyond your limp cock, I, without hesitance, glide my tongue into and out of your cavern, slightly surprised at how tight it truly is. You gasp, overwhelmed by the sensations as I smother your two sacs with saliva before glancing at your face, amused with your reaction. You're simply lying there, eyes closed, with a tear-sodden face. Beautiful, yes, but more importantly, vulnerable. This is going to be one of the most exhilarating experiences that I'll savor for the rest of my life, Marik. It's such a shame that you aren't enjoying this nearly as much as I am, though.
I move forward, resting my chest upon yours. Two of my fingers slide into your own mouth, where I lubricate them. Before either of us know it, these same digits are widening your entrance, encouraged by your pained moaning. You bite your lip hard, continuously chewing on it to escape the discomfort until the point where you spit blood, carelessly allowing it to splatter all over my fucking face.
"You know, I actually thought you'd be decently intelligent about this," I remark, pulling my fingers out of you. "I guess that I was wrong, wasn't I?" My anger stands no chance while comparing it to my frustration, which is all I feel right now. But before I make a stupid move and ruin this opportunity, I mentally count to ten, calming myself before hiding the irritation with a collected composure. "Oh well."
I rise to my knees, the movement bringing with it the sound of the creaking springs of the mattress. Stationing myself between your legs for the second time tonight, I take my own length into my hand. Sooner than later, I am as hard as a rock, prepared to take you until I'm good and ready. You stare at me, gaping, those lavender orbs showing nothing but the want for an end. I don't sympathize with you one bit, though. You had this coming, anyway. Remorse? Heh. Remorse is for quitters.
"Count to three, Marik. Do it."
Miserably digging your nails into your palms, you mumble, "O-one..."
I guide the head of my eager member along the outside walls of your passage, smirking.
I push forward just a bit, my heart racing.
I am inside of you.
Maliciously grinning, I immediately begin thrusting, grunting with each and every movement. Your cries grow louder and even more strangled by the second. Soon enough, I am moving at such a pace that your head is actually smacking against the backboard of the bed, which I am highly entertained with. If I was not thoroughly focused upon reaching my release, then I'd have laughed.
Every thrust is another reminder of my aggression towards you and everyone else within this pathetic excuse for a world. And this is your own fault; you brought it out of me. Isn't it clear, Marik? I wouldn't have even thought of doing this if you hadn't stepped on others, just as I've been stepped on so many times. I'm sick and fucking tired of it, and if I can stop you from doing making innocent people feel like dirt, then I can stop every other self-centered asshole. And if that means that I have to forcefully take each and every one of them, too, then so be it.
"Mar-Marik!" I breathe, shoving inside of you mercilessly. You're crying just like a baby. "Ra, s-so tight, so..." Needless to say, you're liking it, on account of your newly formed erection. I laugh at the loss of your self-control. "I-I'm coming...I'M FUCKING COMING!" I prove this statement with a sudden burst of hot, oozing seed, filling your lower regions with my essence. "Marik..." I desperately try to regain my breath, but once that is accomplished, I separate our bodies. "Now that was a good fuck, wasn't it?"
And you lie, motionless, possibly unable to move.
But it's your own damn fault.