Author Note: I apologize beforehand; my writing is shit and I haven't written drabbles/fanfics in like... three years, so expect this to be a load of pure, third person P.O.V bullshit. This drabble was actually based off of a thread I have going on on Tumblr, hah! It's also influenced by the fanfic, Stalker.
Pairing: Bronzeshipping [Yami Marik x Marik Ishtar].
Warning: Mention of kidnapping, very minor NSFW.
Anyway, enjoy? Pft!
Marik shivered when a calloused hand trailed up his leg and to the inside of his thigh. Letting his eyes flutter shut; his gut churned at the feeling of being touched by the man hovering over him. His captor, his everything. Marik's mouth felt dry and with every touch—every kiss to his skin, he shook.
How long had it been since he was kidnapped? A month, perhaps.. more? A year, even? He didn't know anymore. He stopped keeping track after a few months.
Biting his bottom lip when the man's hand slithered up his body, up his stomach then to his chest then his neck where the large hand grasped at his chin and forced him to turn his head to the side. Letting out a shaky breath, Marik cracked his eyes open a bit and whimpered with every kiss, lick and bite done to his collarbone and neck area. After time, the skin had become sensitive around there due to the frequent attention the man paid to it.
It could be now considered one of his erogenous zones.
"Uhn—!" he gasped when he was bitten, his body arching in response to the sudden shock of mixed pain and pleasure.
Furrowing his brows and parting his lips to exhale, he felt himself begin to feel breathless. His fear of being touched had worsened over time but, he had no choice but to endure this torture. When the man's hands gripped at the back of his knees and rose his legs up to straddle him, Marik's body froze. "M.. Mariku! W.. wait, wait! Please, I.. I'm—!" he pleaded but, was ignored in the end. The only response he got was a smirk and coos of 'I love you'.
Mariku. Mariku—the man who resembled his darkness; his nightmare. This was the man responsible for breaking Marik. He had been broken so many times by this man that he just didn't care; he played along.
He pretended to love Mariku. Pretended to like and enjoy the touches—but, his pretending would cease when he was eventually enveloped in a river of pure ecstasy.
He would do anything. Anything to keep himself alive, anything to keep himself sane. He had been broken beyond repair but, despite that—he continued to fight.
He wanted to be set free, it was the only thing he clung to.
But there was Mariku, too. He clung onto him for dear life, afraid to lose himself to the point where he couldn't be found. For now, Mariku was his everything; he couldn't survive without him, that much he knew. That much he was willing to accept.