Chapter3- 4
Evil Angel
A/N: Alright, so one of my reviewers did in fact raise the point *cough* how did you notice ? That I was sort of rushing things in an effort to get it posted. Plus it was my dad's birthday so Iwas like screw it, I like it so I posted it. Anyhow, I also have been keeping an eye on the Fanfiction police. I'm not sure if there ARE, but I didn't want my account ot be discontinued just because I like writing deep angst BUT you know what. Guidelines, are merely guidelines right? :D. For those of you who wanted the nice, sweet little fluffy Ch.3 and 4, ENJOY. But for those who are looking for a more realistic ANGST in Bakura and Mariku and Marik then READ THIS ONE AQUI. I give thanks to Fakiashi, for helping point out my rushedness and while you were kind in your review, you were HONEST so thank you! Also, I thank Pharoah Silver for being supportive and all you other lovely viewers!~
Evil Angel
Chapter 3
LEMON ~
Bakura hissed as he felt Mariku continue his advances. He had to think of a way out of this, but how could he? He was trapped and he knew it. He felt Mariku's victorious laugh reverberate throughout his body and bounce off his core like a hornet's sting. Oh, how humiliating this was. Bakura's head still throbbed to top it off. He didn't know how to reach to Marik, it seemed he was currently …blocked.
/ Marik…come on!/
But there was no response. Bakura bit his lip as he felt Mariku's long fingers slip past his boxer's waistline again and around his member, firmly gripping it. He gasped.
"NO!"
"Oh, yes…" Mariku smirked devilishly at Bakura, enjoying Bakura's momentary shock which quickly developed into a glare.
"Don't think I don't know…" Mariku purred, sending small physically pleasant and yet nauseatingly creepy shivers up and down Bakura's spine.
"Hnn…you don't know a lot of things…" Bakura spat.
"…. I know for a fact you like my hikari…" Mariku said silkily, and Bakura glared at Mariku.
"…Like? I'd say I tolerate his prescense," Bakura snarled, stiffly.
"Tolerate? Hmmm…is that all?" Mariku said, an edge of amusement in his voice. Bakura gasped as he felt his legs being forcibly parted…His boxers were slid down his legs and Bakura swung a kick at the side of Mariku's left arm but Mariku deftly intercepted with a sharp dark grin. "Ah," he tutted, gripping Bakura's length harder and Bakura hissed in pain, trying to shy away but finding that he couldn't as he felt himself being stroked.
"L-let go! Fucking assfaced dipshi-" Bakura's string of insults was interrupted when he felt the rod's blade end pressed against his groin, and he sucked in his breath.
"hmmm? Much more tolerant when your family jewels are in danger…aren't we?" Mariku purred. Bakura's heart pounded in his ears.
"G-go ahead…I'm not afraid," Bakura grit his teeth, glaring icily at Mariku.
Mariku paused for a moment. Then, a slow dark grin spread back across his features. "Oh? Giving up already?" he moved the blade to Bakura's neck.
"Bastard…" Bakura spat, but he was weary now. He was pissed as hell but weary…and tired…and his head HURT goddammit. Mariku responded by sliding out his long tongue and licking up the side of Bakura's member with it. Bakura grit his teeth again, his breath hitching in his throat as his member twitched from the oral attention.
This was DEFINENTLY worse than any physical abuse. Mariku knew this and he knew that Bakura knew this as well. Bakura tried to close his legs, but the rod was pressed too close to his neck and he knew if he moved a hair, he'd be sliced. Cursing his helplessness, he remained silent, not wanting to give Mariku ANY satisfaction if he could help it.
"Why so quiet?" Mariku purred, and his hands found an interest in teasing both of Bakura's nipples to hardness. Bakura began to squirm a little with every small action. He was trying his best to stay disconnected from the attention his body was physically receiving from Mariku but he knew, if he opened his mouth, it'd be all over because Mariku would insult him for sure about his breathlessness. Bakura's mind screamed at him to run, to kick, to do something. "As I said before…I wonder…how many times have you touched yourself like this?...while thinking of my dumb weak sniveling, hikari?"
Bakura glared at him vehementously and a small growl emitted from his throat. Mariku's tongue ran over his fangs as he looked down at his captive, feeling proudly and smugly dominant.
With a quick pump, he managed to wrestle out a small groan from Bakura's throat. Bakura though, was proving to be very stubborn and Mariku was getting impatient with Bakura's silence. He wanted to humiliate, to torment, to have complete control over the tomb robber. Looking down at the thief's silvery hair, splayed about his neck and shoulders loosely, his brown eyes flecked with mahagony flare, his mouth in long thin line, and fists clenched, restrained above his head by the handcuffs, indeed, Bakura looked very domitable and Mariku found himself starting to begin to get…curious. He could almost see why his dumb obviously gay, hikari had a crush on Bakura. Not that he did. No, Mariku's sole purpose was to humiliate Bakura…make him so dominated that the tomb robber would be scarred forever. It sounded so entertaining and Mariku grinned psychotically, making the hair on Bakura's neck rise. Mariku kept Bakura's legs spread with a rough impatience. Bakura grit his teeth, trying to think of ways to stall the inevitable. Bakura may have been in the ring for 5000 years, he may not be a socialite, but even he could tell where Mariku was planning on taking this… and Bakura couldn't stop it. He didn't want to harm Marik.
How could he harm Marik? Yet, Bakura knew that if he didn't try to knock out Mariku then he was in some serious shit. Mariku meanwhile was calculating and observing Bakura's exposed body.
Bakura was sensually pleasing to look at.
His will to fight back despite the odds was entertaining.
Dominating him would serve to be…most satisfying. Mariku felt an unfamiliar feeling warm down in his pants and realized that he was getting a little…excited. Mariku tilted his head to the side. He wanted the pleasure of killing Bakura but his mind began to think of other pleasure that he could extract from the tomb robber. Mariku decided that he would…take his time with this. Instead of flat out just tormenting Bakura and then slitting his throat, Mariku devised that dominating Bakura would prove to be most satisfying. Most satisfying indeed.
Bakura hadn't taken his eyes off of Mariku the whole time. Bakura was very unsettled. He wasn't quite sure what Mariku was up to. He eyed the gash on Marik's arm and could feel the dried blood on his stomach. It wasn't that Bakura was bothered by blood, it was just…it was Marik's…which was enough to make his stomach lurch. Yes,….YES he had a crush on Marik. He had no idea that Mariku was smart enough to even care to pay attention to all the hints he'd dropped.
He'd underestimated Mariku.
Mariku hadn't loosened up on stroking Bakura's member and Bakura hissed when he felt his package beginning to be fondled. Shuddering, Bakura wanted to kick Mariku in the face. He couldn't though. Once again he tried reaching out to Marik desperately.
/ MARIK, goddamit!/
/ eh…Bakura…I'm…sorry…/
Bakura frowned.
/ Ra, Marik! What's wrong with you! Get your ass out here!/
/….I…I can't…Mariku has …has…he's feeding off…of my…my anger…/
/….You're STILL mad?/
The fight that those two had had had been about Bakura finally blowing his top at Marik's incessant name-calling, and derpiness. Bakura had been in a bad mood because of the rather bloody hot weather outside earlier in the day and the broken air conditioner wasn't helping. Neither was Marik. Bakura was pissed because he was devising a plan to steal the puzzle from Yugi but all Marik wanted to do was just "hang out" and try to devise a plan later. Bakura was too grouchy to want to wait until "later". Now, finding himself in this very BAD turn of events, Bakura mentally didn't know what to do.
Bakura was broken from his reverie when he felt a pair of lips smash against his own. With a cry of surprise and annoyance, he found Mariku's tongue dart into his mouth before he could stop it. Quickly, Bakura instinctively –and without intending to—kicked Mariku hard, in the crotch, and to his immense satisfaction, the other Psychotic Yami rolled off him, snarling a string of wheezed curses.
"Oh, you'll pay for that dearly, tomb robber," Mariku growled, and Bakura had no doubt in his mind that he was indeed, going to pay for that. He glared Mariku down though. Inside, his stomach was churning. He was delaying the inevitable but he had a nasty feeling he'd just sped things up.
Mariku grinned again, as psychotic as ever and Bakura narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what it was that Mariku was up to. He saw the blade move and hover over Marik's already injured arm and Bakura watched in silent horror as Mariku made to slash much deeper this time.
"WAIT!" Bakura gasped in obvious panic.
Mariku paused. "You going to behave? Or will I have to cut up your precious boy toy to ribbons? Or..I wonder…would you be the bigger bitch in this relationship?" Mariku smirked down at Bakura once again, straddling him.
Bakura gulped, and growled in response. He tensed, but didn't kick Mariku again even as he felt his legs be parted and two impatient digits insert inside of him dry. With a hiss, Bakura turned his face away from Mariku, his eyes shut tight, as he grit his teeth, his back arching like a tightly strung bow. The pain was making his insides scream but Bakura refused to let out the pained little gasps, merely breathing as regularly as he could and trying to think of other things. Anything that wasn't what was going on just then. Mariku kept a hand on Bakura's hip, stopping Bakura from arching completely and began to scissor him, enjoying the strangled groan he managed to wrangle from Bakura. Now things were getting interesting.
"My Hikari can't come out right now…he's ah…otherwise contained," Mariku growled, as he leaned in to Bakura's chest and licked a long saliva trail up to Bakura's nipples where he paused for a moment, stroking one nipple and still fingering Bakura inside. Mariku, was fascinated at how tight and warm Bakura was around Mariku's fingers. Feeling Bakura squirm and bite his lip so hard it bled was very…arousing for Mariku. Why? Maybe it was because he found pleasure in the torment of others? Sadistical? Mmm, yes indeed. He leaned in and licked at Bakura's lips and all Bakura could muster was a small groan of displeasure. That only fueled Mariku. The satisfaction of being able to torment the tomb robber in this manner was indeed, satisfying, but Mariku was …experimental. True, he was created from Marik's anger and had been around long enough that he'd actually developed an identity completely separate from Marik's, and that meant that he shared a body with Marik. Mariku mused about Bakura's rather…amusing reactions and attempts to hide the obvious pain he was feeling. It made Mariku only want to torture him more. He curled his fingers sharply in Bakura, even thrusting in a third, and was satisfied to see Bakura bite a pillow in desperation with his small pearly white fangs.
"I said this before…I want to hear you moan," Mariku said silkily.
"N-never…" Bakura gasped out, his wrists clanking as he began to feel himself beginning to succuumb. Bakura cursed his damn yadonushi's mortal body.
Mariku grinned nastily. Oh, he was going to enjoy this abuse. Mariku steadied himself at Bakura's entrance, withdrawing the fingers. He was a little dissapointed because the rumors were that virgins bled. It was alright though, Mariku knew he'd have Bakura bleeding soon enough. It was enough to put a sadistical grin on his face.
Before Bakura had a moment to react, he let out a sharp howl of pain as Mariku entered him without any preparation…without warning…all Bakura could feel was agonizing pain as he virginity was brutally ripped from inside him with each bloody thrust Mariku forced into him. Panting and feeling only pain, Bakura couldn't think any more. He refused to acknowledge the pain, but it was there. It was there, present, and screaming inside of him. It was worse than having his nails pulled out one by one. It was worse than a thousand hot irons pressed against every bit of his skin. He knew he was bleeding, and his eyes stung. Ra, he didn't want to cry. He wasn't that weak. He wasn't weak, but his body was psychically. The tears rolled down his face before he even realized they were there and he bit Mariku has hard as he could on the hand, shivering, trembling, his breaths ragged and sharp. Mariku grinned wider, he didn't care for the pain. It was rather amusing to watch Bakura writhe and groan and cry. THIS was what he'd been waiting for. Bakura couldn't speak, his voicebox seemed to be shut down. He wanted to sleep, for it to be over, but Mariku wasn't having any of that. He growled and he re-adjusted himself, searching for that G-spot inside Bakura. Bakura had no idea what Mariku was doing…He only felt pain, excruciating pain. He howled curses at Mariku and tried to beat him, but his hands were restrained and all he could do was groan and moan and writhe. Mariku felt Bakura's inner landmark and he began to ram it and was satisfied to see Bakura throw his head back, moaning like a whore now.
Bakura gasped and groaned. He tried his best to not be vocal. Fuck if he ever gave Mariku that satisfaction. He wondered in a small bit of his mind as he was pulled in and out of the present, if Mariku was letting Marik watch this. What would Marik think? What would he think of Bakura? Bakura's heart sank and with each thrust, it was like Mariku was taking another stab at Bakura's heart. Bakura hated it. Hated being vulnerable. Hated this powerlessness that he was forced into against his will. But most of all, he hated Mariku even more than the Pharoah. His rage was diminished by the pain he was feeling. He felt almost numb. He felt the foreign pleasure but mostly he felt pain. So much pain. He shuddered as he felt something warm, and hot, and sticky release inside of him and his muscles clamped around Mariku. Letting out a shuddering gasp, Bakura felt Mariku stroking him again. How long had Mariku been stroking him? Bakura didn't know. He was too out of it, but he felt a strange sort of high as he released on the sheets and down Mariku's hand and a little on his chest and inner thighs.
Mariku pulled out of Bakura to study his handywork. He was only interested in bringing Bakura pain and humiliation…claiming him as a trophy…his sniveling hikari would be heartbroken. Mariku grinned, pleased to have taken Bakura's virginity along with pride and whatever else the thief formerly had.
Bakura on the other hand panted, knowing he'd been dominated and seething. He wanted to sleep…his head hurt, his ass was in so much pain, Bakura couldn't even speak…only breath irregularly. Mariku kissed along Bakura's inner thighs and Bakura groaned, feebly.
Mariku's smirk set Bakura on edge.
"You didn't think we were finished? Did you? That was just the appetizer…I plan on having the main course and dessert still…" Mariku purred, breathing hotly on Bakura's ear. Bakura found Mariku's tongue in his mouth a second later and shivered, moaning into it from frustration. He was numb from the pain and didn't have enough strength to try contacting Marik again. What was the point? He didn't want Marik to know this happened…
"St-stop…" Bakura croaked.
"I own you now, tomb robber," Mariku grinned nastily, licking his lips. "…I won't tell my sniveling Hikari…if you do as I say, exactly…"
Bakura knew then that it was going to be a very long, uncomfortable…hellish night.
Bakura panted, his throat incredibly sore from his cursing out Mariku. He winced with every slight shift, and groaned with every thrust. Bakura's stamina for pain was inhuman, and although he normally bragged himself for his stamina… for once, he resented this. It was the third time, and Bakura felt sticky and gross all over. He thought it was finally over as Mariku pulled out with a panty satisfied grunt after releasing once again inside of him and oh, how Bakura's insides burned. He didn't have the strength to lift up his head, much less yell at Mariku. He lay still, and was only hazily aware of Mariku undoing his handcuffs. He attempted to instinctively scramble but Mariku pulled Bakura to his chest, with that stupid, stupid dominating smirk, and Bakura was forced to rest his heavy head against Mariku's chest. "Bast…ar..d…" Bakura croaked, feebly.
"Yes, I know…fluffy pie," Mariku crooned, cackling satisfied. Bakura shook visibly with indescribable rage. But Mariku knew that Bakura's attack power was less than 1%. Bakura hoped that Mariku would slink back into Marik now. He feebly attempted to punch Mariku but Mariku merely rolled over on top of Bakura, who was at this point, too achey and worn to fight back. "Oh? If you still have energy…we should fix that…" Mariku pinched Bakura's abused nipples and Bakura whined in the back of his throat, his hands, now freed, feebly scrabbling at Mariku's hands, trying to remove them from himself. Mariku looked at Bakura's full body, in the light, and he enjoyed the view. Bakura's hair was a mess, his top was in shreds because Mariku decided to have some fun slicing it in various places and Bakura's inner thighs and legs had some red welts where Mariku gripped hard during orgasm. Bakura's inner thighs also showed a small trail of white and red trickling down his legs while his stomach showed merely some white random trails mixed with Marik's dry blood. With Bakura's glossy eyed mahagony glare, he truly looked…spectacular. Mariku wanted to control that and knowing that he was the reason for this side of Bakura, his purple eyes glowed possessively. Oh yes…Bakura was claimed as his…
He hadn't planned on that, to be honest. But still…why let go of such an interesting toy?
He decided since he was in such a good mood, to let his hikari out. "You've entertained me well," he purred into Bakura's ear, as he nibbled it, and Bakura merely quivered in Mariku's grasp. Oh, how he loved this powerhold he had over the insufferably sarcastic tomb robber right now. Now and forever, Mariku was convinced. "I'll let my hikari out…but first…you should shower and change…" Bakura trembled with unimaginable rage. His head throbbed, his ass hurt like a thousand…no ten thousand hot irons had been pressed up his ass at once while someone shot a hot glue gun up his sides and spine. The worse part was that he had been powerless to stop it. Powerless to do anything escape yell and bear the pain.
He trembled, rage boiling him down to his very core, but he had no energy, absolutely no stamina to back this up. He felt a shift and Mariku grinned at him nastily. "My hikari knows nothing of your crush on him…as long as you continue to be as good as you were tonight, I'll make sure to keep it from him…" Before Bakura could respond, he watched silently at the transformation. He turned his face away, his insides and legs and everything burning, and curled up into a small quiet ball.
If Marik was as straight as he claimed to be, Bakura had no doubt that his reaction would be bad. Sure enough, a pair of wide-eyed amythst eyes rested upon Bakura's curled up in the covers form. The room was silent. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop on the carpet.
Marik slipped out of bed quietly and Bakura listened for rustling sounds. He knew that Marik was getting dressed. Bakura figured he'd clean himself up in the morning. His eyelids drooped, feeling heavy. He felt so exposed. If the bed could swallow him up, he wished it would. His anger at Mariku was fueling and spiralling in his stomach but his throat hurt too much to say much of anything.
Marik was shocked. Beyond it. Marik was horrified. Stunned. He didn't know what ot say. How to react. Bakura was being deathly quiet and Marik was seething at his Yami. His Yami not only used HIS body to violate Bakura, but this was a new low, even for his yami. He should've seen it coming. If he thought he could under-estimate his yami, now he had no doubt that his yami should NEVER be under-estimated.
Marik opened his mouth but closed it, looking like a fish out of water. He had no idea how to comfort Bakura. The experience he'd been forced into must've been horrible although Mariku had actually blocked Marik the whole time so Marik was graced from having to watch. His anger had caused Mariku this opening. Marik felt a guilty wieght in his stomach. He could see the blood on the sheets and knew that right now, Bakura needed him. Marik knew that he claimed to be straight, and he didn't want to give Bakura the wrong idea, because he wasn't interested in Bakura's body at all, but he knew, that right now, Bakura needed someone to lean on for support. Marik also knew that leaning on someone for support was something that Bakura normally despised. Still, Marik had to do something. He felt so useless. He felt horrible. He knew this wouldn't atone for the horrible experience that Bakura had just had, but he had to do something. He didn't know what else to do.
Bakura heard Marik's footsteps leave the room and heard the water running in the bathroom. He wondered hazily if Marik was taking a shower? He let out a small grunt of surprise when he felt a light touch on his shoulder. He didn't want to look at Marik still. He felt so ashamed. "…Bakura…" Marik said, hushed.
Bakura continued to ignore Marik. He felt Marik's weight leave the bed and then lifted his head when he felt a small tug back of the covers. With a small growl of weak protest, Bakura tried to pull the covers back over himself but Marik was stubborn as he was stronger. He managed to with little to no resistance from Bakura, pick him up bridal style. Bakura hissed in pain but Marik held him gingerly and Bakura had no choice but to cling to Marik for support as Marik made his way to the bathroom. Gently, he set Bakura in the shower, and Bakura felt still numb. Marik was also very quiet. Much quieter than normal. Bakura didn't know how to handle this situation. He knew that Marik was in the same boat as he was on this. He gave a little start when he felt a warm cloth begin to rub his shoulders and looked up, seeing Marik keeping a poker face. This wasn't like Marik that Bakura had come to know. He was quiet and serious and Bakura was worried about what may be going on inside Marik's mind right now.
"Marik, you don't have to-" Bakura started, his tone obviously pained for multiple reasons although Marik would only connect it to the obvious.
"I want to help my kitty," Marik said quietly. Bakura noticed how Marik's voice quivered slightly. Marik hoped Bakura hadn't detected it, but Bakura had indeed. The only sound between them was the sound of the rushing water from the faucet. Bakura didn't even complain that Marik had called him a kitty. Again. Marik stopped after a couple minutes which felt like hours, toBakura, and turned his back on him. Bakura looked at him questioningly. "…I'll leave you alone..to…" Marik's voice trailed off and he left the bathroom, closing the door with a small *click* and leaving Bakura alone, with the warm water, and his thoughts. Bakura closed his eyes, leaning against the wall of the shower, allowing the water to run down his back a little while after he'd managed to clean himself. He winced with every slight movement, and his ass felt like someone had stuck a hornet's nest up it. But Bakura grit his teeth. He painstakingly got into the pajamas that Marik had left on the toilet seat for him. They were red with gold band like designs on the upper arms and lower legs. Bakura slipped into them with difficulty. He had time in the shower to think of Mariku's threats. Bakura's vision swam before his eyes as his head ache suddenly split open, and with a thud he collapsed on the tile floor of the bathroom. He heard the door click open from what seemed to be far away, felt Marik gently trying to wake him up but now that it was all over, Bakura just wanted to sleep.
Marik meanwhile, had run in when he heard the thud and he quickly hoisted Bakura up over his back and piggy backed him to the bed where he instantly tucked him in. With a worried frown, Marik climbed into the bed as well. Normally, if he had a nightmare, Bakrua would slip into the covers and stay with him until he'd calmed down. Now, Marik wanted to let Bakura know that he was there for him. Marik's gaze was passive. He sighed as he turned on his side, watching Bakura's features finally relax to a sleeping look. It wasn't often that Marik had the chance to see a peaceful sleeping Bakura. Watching him sleep, looking unpained and free of his chains, Marik wondered what would happen once he woke up. Would Bakura blame him?
Marik's heart sank. He'd let his anger best him. For that, Bakura had to pay in the worst way. Marik hesitated, brushing some of Bakura's stray locks of hair out of his eyes. He didn't know why he did what he did then…maybe it was because he felt guilty, or maybe it was just because …Marik kissed Bakura's forehead briefly. Marik didn't want Bakura to know that he'd done that. Marik didn't know himself why he'd done that. Marik used his magic to heal the obvious wound on himself and the head wound on Bakura, and after busying himself with cleanup, he slipped back into the bed. Bakura mumbled something and began to nuzzle Marik. Marik froze but then relaxed. Bakura was just dreaming. Bakura was dreaming. Marik wondered what the tomb robber, the great infamous King(Prince) of Thieves dreamed about. Marik bit his lower lip. He wanted things to be normal between him and Bakura. He just didn't know how.
Mariku watched with a hiss, intterupted from his after-glow gloating as he saw his hikari kiss Bakura's sleeping forehead. No one was allowed to touch Bakura in that manner! Mariku growled, knowing he couldn't let his hikari go any further with his toy. Yes, Mariku refused to let his hikari steal what he stole first! "I wouldn't touch him, if I were you," Mariku hummed, with a dark cackle. Oh, he had plans for his hikari if he tried. Mariku mused, his hikari always claimed to be straight. Mariku decided to test that theory. Blackmailing not just Bakura but Marik sounded so entertaining. Mariku cackled to himself. Things were finally getting interesting.