#noncon touch

A cool rag gently wipes across Diana’s forehead as she sits slumped in her chair, trembling. Silent tears roll down her cheeks. Whatever Hive had injected into those wasps packed a punch, to put it lightly. 

Vision blurry, Diana watched as Hive moved the rag downward. He wiped the blood and yellowish pus from her arms. The burst stings split her skin open, leaving a small hole where the stingers had been. “You’ll start to feel much better now, love, I promise,” he cooed, his touch gentle. The sensation made her skin crawl. Occasionally, after a bad fight, her handler would help tend to her injuries. At the academy, doctors patched her up enough that she wouldn’t die.

That was different, though. Those touches had been clinical. Hive’s palm lingered, caressing her. It was strange, she thought, as the room spun around her. There was a deep ache in her bones…. Her stomach churned, threatening to spew bile. Through the haze, she could feel a sense of satisfaction, and even…. Lust. The feeling was strongest against her thigh, where Hive’s hand rested. 

His thumb traced circles against her skin as she panted, trying to stifle her tremors. “I know, I know,” he said softly. “It feels bad now. Just give it time….” Before Diana could realize what he was doing, Hive stood. 

He leaned down. His lips pressed against her forehead. Every aching muscle went taut in her body, but the kiss was left as quickly as it had come. This time. “I’ll leave you to get some rest. When I come back, we’ll move you somewhere more comfortable…” Damien seemed to consider something as he looked down at her, those empty pits in his eyes piercing her very soul. 

Was he going to kiss her again? Touch her? A beetle crawled up the side of his neck. She shivered. A long moment passed before he simply declared, “I’ll also bring you some food and water. Be good, love, try to get some rest.” Then Hive turned to walk away. As he moved, the swarms of creatures on the subway floor parted for their king. Somewhere, a door shut. Then Diana was left alone with the dozens of insects left behind. In Damien’s absence, the low buzz seemed thunderous. That little circle of space around her chair was left untouched, but they were everywhere else. Wasps and bees, cockroaches, freakishly large beetles, moths, and spiders…. If she moved, would they pounce on her?

It didn’t matter. So long as she acted quickly, they wouldn’t notice. Insects weren’t like…. Capable of complex thought or strategy. Apparently, their leader wasn’t either. 

By popping her stings, Hive extracted the venom that had been stifling her powers. Diana hadn’t been certain until she felt his emotions while he washed the pus off her limbs. Exhaling slowly, she closed her eyes. Her hands twisted behind her. They were bound by zipties. All of the laboratory-enhanced-heroes had enhanced strength and accelerated healing. Her limbs still felt heavy with venom, but Diana thought that if she could just….

Eyebrows knitting together in concentration, Diana gave a quick jerk. The zipties snapped. Around her, the insects began to stir. Shit. She froze, hardly daring to breathe as she watched. A few of them crept closer, but they didn’t cross that invisible line that surrounded her chair. Could Hive communicate with them? She didn’t know how his powers worked, and she didn’t want to be here long enough to find out. 

Her hands thrust outward. Water burst from her palms, crashing against the concrete before her. A hundred insects were washed away. She leapt to her feet, legs aching and cramped from being restrained for hours, but she pushed herself forward.

The turnstiles were to her right. Past them were escalators, frozen in time. That would lead her to the surface. She just had to make it.

Cockroaches, moths, and wasps descended from above. Diana waved wildly. Water shot out from all sides, trying to swat them away, but there were so many, and her powers were fading fast. She was too dehydrated. Crying out, Diana launched herself over the turnstiles and pumped her legs faster, because the escalator was right there….

A sewer grate before her exploded. A geyser of…. Hundreds, thousands, of insects erupted and descended upon her. Diana had no choice but to fall to the ground, screaming. Water burst from her hands in a halfhearted attempt to force the creatures away, but there were too many, and she was too weak. Diana curled into the fetal position when her powers finally gave out, bracing for pain that never came. They weren’t attacking her. The insects just…. Circled her. Humming, incessant, their little legs and wings and antennae brushing against her goosebump-covered skin, trapping her in place.

An eternity passed. Or only a second. Truly, Diana couldn’t decide which, if it passed quickly or too slow. But if asked afterwards, she would have preferred to stay trapped within the insects dome than face the demon who ordered the creatures to part.

Hive didn’t speak. At least, not in a language that Diana could understand. For now, it was undeniable that he could communicate with the insects. With a wave of his hand, the thousands of winged creatures flew away at once, retreating into their crevices and shadows. 

His form was even more intimidating where she lay crumbled before him. Diana planted her hands on the ground, trying to push herself up, but his hand fisted in her hair first. A sharp cry escaped her. “No, no, no—”

Electricity shot through her, spearing through her neck into her very core. The woman ignored EI427’s screams. “When you are punished, you accept it with dignity,” she snapped. Diana was thrown into her cell, where other guards were waiting. They chained her arms above her head, facing the wall. Someone tore off her shirt to leave her back exposed. 

She couldn’t stop her whimpers, or how she shook her head. “Pl-”Agony coursed in her veins. It stole her breath. She doubled over, teeth gritted as the collar continued to shock her, unrelenting. Without mercy. When the whipping began, every scream that escaped her lips was met with a shock. 

The cycle continued until EI427 blacked out. When she came to, she was still strapped to the wall. Her lesson wasn’t learned yet. 

Diana clamped her mouth shut as she was dragged across the concrete. Her arms and legs scraped against stone, and all she could do was try to crawl after him enough to limit the searing pain in her scalp. Between their proximity and the contact, Diana could feel his utter fury, and a strange sense of…. Betrayal. A fierce sense of protection—no, not protection. More twisted than that. What he felt was closer to possession. 

He finally stopped when they reached a room down the tunnels. Originally, it was surely a supply closet, or maybe a break room, but it had since been turned into a bedroom. He threw her on the bed, and began to tie her limbs down. 

No. No, no, no…. Diana whimpered, shaking her head furiously. A scream begged to be released from her throat. Pleas for mercy. Cries that she couldn’t do this, didn’t know how, don’t, don’t, anything but that please…. Damien looked down at her. While his expression was stone-cold, his emotions were anything but. They were raging. Ever-changing, a fucking hurricane of feelings. Slowly, Diana grasped a sense of pity. His anger had turned to something softer, now that he saw her strapped down before him, unable to scream.

The mattress creaked beneath her as Hive perched on the edge. One rough hand reached out, caressing the line of her throat. Specifically, the burns left from years of wearing that cursed collar. 

“We will work on this,” he said softly. His thick eyebrows knitted together as he made the vow. “But we can’t yet. Not when you’re so insistent on leaving me.” The empty pits met Diana’s wild, sapphire gaze. He leaned down, teeth grazing at her earlobe. His breath was hot on her skin. 

Off. Get off, get off, get…. Get off…. Every muscle went taut, and she was tied down but she could pull free, she could, she had the strength. She could fight him. He would punish her, sting her again, but she could at least try it was just….

Diana couldn’t make herself. There was nothing stopping her except her own mind. But how could you fight your mind? 

She squeezed her eyes shut as Damien nipped her ear, then kissed and bit his way down her throat. Sucking. Teeth sinking into skin. Claiming her, even more than the burn scars already had. And she said nothing. Did nothing except lie there, shaking. “You know you belong here,” Hive crooned. 

There was mint on his breath.

“Why would you try to leave? I’ll just find you again…. Or the REIA will first. Do you really want that?” His hands were rough, groping her breasts through her bra and t-shirt.

No one had touched her like this. 

But he didn’t go lower. Didn’t take off her clothes. Hive stood, the bed shifting as his weight lifted, and a little, broken sob spilled from her lips. She didn’t cry, though. She felt like a dried-out grape after using her powers.

“I didn’t want to hurt you again, baby….” 

Something heavy hit the ground, then there was the sound of digging around in a drawer or box. Diana pried her eyes open and craned her neck to see. She didn’t want to see. But she needed to.

A bright red toolbox was in the center of the dirty, stained floor. Damien dug around in it until he pulled out a large hammer. 

It was hard to tell from across the room, but she thought he felt pity. Intermingled with that, though, was a sense of determination. “This won’t kill you,” he said softly. “You’ll heal fast, we both know that. As long as you’re a good girl, and don’t try anything stupid, it won’t completely cripple you.” Her eyes widened. She couldn’t make herself pull at the restraints, but she did lick her lips, trying to force out sound. “What…. Do you….” The words were so quiet. Her voice broke.

A shadow crossed over Damien’s face. Keeping the hammer in one hand, he turned around and dug in another drawer until he withdrew a washcloth. His shadow loomed over her as he returned to the side of the bed. “Open your mouth.”

She obeyed without thinking. He shoved the cloth inside. “Just for a moment, baby. I don’t want you to bite through your tongue.” Damien’s hand caressed the side of her face.

Then that same hand joined the other as he slammed the hammer down on her left foot once, twice, three times, until it was nothing but a demolished sack of bones and flesh.

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Tag List!!!! @stars-hide-our-fires, @watsonbee

The wooden steps creaked in protest under Whumper’s heavy boots. The tall man rounded the corner of the basement into the subterranean laundry room, where he found his favorite captive chained to the central support beam, exactly where he’d left him.

“Got a little something to keep you busy.” Whumper grinned, dumping the contents of the laundry basket he was holding onto the floor. “Turn around.”

Before he finished giving the command, Whumpee had already presented his captor with the zip ties securing his wrists behind his back. Normally Whumper would remove the binds the moment he got home, but he'd had already been back for hours. Maybe he was busy with something else. Or maybe he did it on purpose.

Whumper retrieved his switchblade from his pocked and flipped it open.

“So I saw something on the news again today.” Whumper informed his captive, snapping the plastic ties with his knife.

“Apparently someone found an old hat in the woods. They think that it’s one of yours. It started another search for you, if you can goddamn believe it, and it’s even bigger than before. There’s helicopters and scent tracing dogs and all.”

Whumper unbuckled his belt, sliding the leather strap through the loops of his pants. “That’s some crazy persistence, all for one person. Like, move on with your lives, people. What’s it been, a whole year now?”

“Ten months.” Whumpee replied weakly, rubbing the red marks on his wrists.

“Shietttt, has it really been that long? I was just kidding.” Whumper said playfully, his voice laced with something sinister. “Well, you know what they say: time flies when you’re having fun.”

Fun. Is that what this was?

“I’m just glad they haven’t given up hope yet.”

Whumpee knew he’d misspoke the second the words left his mouth.

“Wrong, Whumpee.” The air went heavy. Whumper shot a disdainful glance at Whumpee, his eyes narrowing with contempt. “People need to stop searching. They need to give up already.”

Whumper was still clutching his leather belt in his hands. For the sake of his physical wellbeing, Whumpee decided to ignore the comment completely.

“Uh, so separate these by color, then?” Whumpee asked as he pawed through the dirty laundry on the floor, desperate to change the subject.

Whumper’s mind was still on the search. “Hmm? Oh, yeah, like usual. Remember to run the sheets—“

“On delicate mode?” Whumpee finished his thought. “Mhmm. Got it.”

Whumpee busied himself by sorting through the dirty laundry pile while Whumper loomed by the room’s entrance. Whumpee watched him cautiously from the corner of his eye. The sociopath was silently brooding, his eyes fixed on Whumpee’s form.

He wished Whumper would fuck off and go back upstairs.

Doing laundry once a week was one of the only tasks he was allowed to do, and as depressing as it was, he actually looked forward to it. It was one of the only things he had to keep himself entertained with. 

In the early days of his captivity, Whumper had allowed him to watch the small tv in the basement living room and provided him with an endless supply of magazines and books. And to think, Whumpee thought he was a prisoner back then. Like most everything in Whumpee’s life, his privileges had been taken away one by one. 

Whumper removed the tv within the first month. He never gave Whumpee a reason why. Next were the books. Then the couch. And soon enough, Whumpee found himself chained to a pole with his wrists zip-tied behind him for ten hours at a time, praying that his captor would at least remember to feed him that day.

Whumpee started a pile of lights, darks, and colors, sorting each garment into its designated pile. Whumper remained in the doorway and watching his captive intently, his presence entirely unwelcome.

“So, um. Did you make something good for dinner?” Whumpee piped up, breaking the tension of the silence.

Ever since he’d been captured all his brain would fixate on was food, and the only thing he could think about currently was the sumptuous meaty smell that had been tantalizing his tastebuds for the past hour.

“Mmm.” Whumper nodded, crossing his arms and stepping into the room. “Roast chicken and mashed potatoes. Garlic bread too, just from the store.”

Whumpee’s eyes widened hungrily.

“No leftovers I’m afraid.” He added.

“Oh.” 

Whumpee crumbled in on himself. That meant no dinner tonight.

Whumpee opened the cabinet above the sink to retrieve a box of detergent. He popped off the lid and scooped the plastic measuring cup into the powder, leveling the mountain of excess with a swipe of his finger.

“You should wash your clothes as well, Whumpee.” The tall man remarked from across the room.

“Uh, yeah. I will.” Whumpee agreed, continuing to avoid eye contact. He placed the pre-measured cup of detergent on the counter, turning to gather up the sorted pile of white clothes from the floor. He chucked them into the washing machine, sprinkled the soap crystals on top, and closed the lid.

He really wished Whumper would go away now, but the tall man stood firmly in place. Whumpee knew where this was going.

“I said you should wash them, Whumpee. That means to take them off.” 

Whumpee stiffened. God fucking damn it. 

Not right now. Not that he wanted to go through this shit ever, but Whumper seemed to be in an especially odd mood this evening.

Whumpee did as he was commanded. It wasn’t worth the fight. He lifted his pale blue button-up over his head, not bothering to unclasp the buttons, and tossed it into the pile of colors. He removed his socks and pants and did the same. Finally he stood in nothing but his white boxer-briefs, awkwardly shimmying them down his thighs until they slid down his legs and hung at his ankles. Blushing, he stepped out of them and walked over to the washing machine, chucking the underwear into the load of whites as it filled with water. 

A chill rocked his body when Whumper approached from behind.

The larger man pushed his hips into Whumpee’s back, pinning him squarely against the machine as it hummed to life. “Mmm. I should make you walk around naked all the time. Don’t you think?”

“It, uh… it gets really cold down here.”

“Psht.” Whumper draped his arms around Whumpee’s neck. “So I’ll buy you an electric blanket. That’d be nice, right?”

“Sure. But, please, I really do need my clothes.”

Whumper’s arms traveled down the sides of Whumpee’s torso and trailed inwards to find his ass. One hand delivered a crisp smack, which immediately left behind a glowing red mark. He smiled, scooping a buttcheek into each palm, jiggling what little flesh was there.

“Your ass is so tiny.” Whumpee quipped.

Yeah, that’s what happens when you average 400 calories a day for nearly a year.

“Yeah. I’m pretty skinny now.”

“You look good like this.” Whumper purred into his ear as he delicately stroked the length of Whumpee’s back. “But I do miss the ass.”

Time to go away now, Whumpee thought. Please, please just go the fuck away.

Whumper smacked Whumpee’s ass again, scooping it up and grinding the denim fabric on his crotch against the thin man’s perfect, bare skin while caressing his neck with his hot, wet tongue. He took Whumpee’s earlobe into his mouth and suckled it lightly, biting down on the soft flesh with only a tiny amount of pressure.

“Mm, you have goosebumps.” Whumper murmured with a self-satisfied grin. “Did that turn you on?”

Two of Whumper’s fingers traced the curvature of his ass and found Whumpee’s entrance. The digits dabbed at the hole gently, teasing and prodding the skin but never pushing inside. The firm touch sent an involuntary shiver up Whumpee’s spine. Whumper smirked at his reaction and nibbled at the side of Whumpee’s neck.

He was so cold, the warmth on his neck felt good. But nothing else did.

“I keep thinking,” Whumper cooed, Whumpee melting into him for heat. “Maybe it’s finally time to give your friends closure. Feels cruel to keep dragging things out like this. They need to stop looking for you.”

For the first time in months, Whumpee felt a vague twinge of hope. 

“What? You mean that you’ll--?”

“What I mean is, they’ll be looking for a body.”

Oh. Oh no.

“W-what?” Whumpee stammered. He twisted out from under Whumper, his chain rattling against the floor as he side-stepped his captor. “What does that mean?”

“I feel a little guilty about it. The search for you has been going on for ages, and now they’re bringing out helicopters and shit? That’s a waste of taxpayer money. The cops could be out there doing real good.”

“No. What did you mean by ‘body’?”

“I was thinking we could chop off one of your legs or something. Maybe just a foot.” 

“No!” Whumpee shrieked. “You can’t!” He delivered a feeble push against Whumper’s chest, pivoting out from underneath him. His heart was pounding in his ears so loud, he pressed his hands to cover them and doubled over in fear.

The reaction took Whumper by surprise. “Bad joke.” he offered, placing a calming hand on the other’s shoulders. 

It wasn’t a joke.

The tall man rubbed his captive’s back until Whumpee’s breath finally evened out. It felt like a betrayal, the way his body responded so well to Whumper’s comforting touch. He jerked away from the sociopath’s reach.

Whumpee blinked incredulously at the man, his cheeks burning with anger. “Don’t.” he spat.

“What?”

“Don’t you fucking dare--”

“Excuse me? Don’t I fucking dare do what?”

“Don’t fucking joke about mutilating me!” Whumpee shouted.

“Hey.” Whumper cautioned. “You’re being too goddamn loud right now.”

Whumpee was frenzied, his chain skittered around as he paced around in a tight circle, pulling at chunks of his hair.

“How long are you going to keep me here?!” Whumpee demanded. “How much fucking longer!?”

“As long as I goddamn like.”

“Just let me go. Just please…” Whumpee pled tearfully, his emotions see-sawing violently between anger and complete despair. “You got what you wanted from me. Why won’t you let me leave…?”

Whumper shrugged. “It never was a part of the plan.”

“Fuck you!” The captive yelled. “I fucking hate you!”

“Whumpee.” Whumper warned with a stern finger, “it’s time to shut the fuck up.”

“I HATE Y—!”

Whumper grabbed a length of chain from the floor and yanked it towards him, forcing Whumpee to the ground by the shackle around his ankle.

Whumper continued pulling the chain into himself, dragging Whumpee’s body across the cold cement floor with every tug. It all happened too quickly for Whumpee to process.

“I should bash your face into the concrete again.” He growled, standing over his collapsed body. Whumpee could taste blood in his mouth. “But I’ll give you one last chance. I guess I didn’t say it explicitly enough last time, so hopefully this time it fucking sinks in: you are here to stay. There will be no more talk of kidnapping, or rescue, or freedom, or fucking escaping. No more of that. You’re here. You’re mine. This house--no--this room, is your whole fucking world, and I am your god. Get used to it.”

Whumpee lifted his head slightly and shot a fiery glance in Whumper’s direction.

“You better wipe that look off your pathetic face while you’ve still got one.” Whumper flicked his switchblade open.

He lifted one of his boots and rested its rubber sole on Whumpee’s back, pressing him into the floor. Brandishing the knife overhead, he commanded Whumpee: “Show me why I choose to keep you around. Remind me that you haven’t fucking forgotten your sole purpose in life, or I’ll saw your leg off right fucking now.”

Face-down on the floor, Whumpee let out a sigh so small only he could hear it.

He knew what he had to do. He didn’t have any other options. Silent tears rushed down his cheeks and fell soundlessly to the floor.

And so out of self-preservation, Whumpee thrust his hips into the air and pushed his face to the floor, his bare ass on full display. He shifted weight into his palms and spread his legs out, his dick and balls tumbled forward, swaying slightly while he found his balance. His hands reached back behind him, blindly tracing the outsides of his thighs, following a line up and over to the round cleft of his butt cheeks.

Choking down a sob, he forced his ass apart. He disgracefully presented his hole before Whumper’s shining, ravenous eyes.

The captor’s jeans fell to the ground. The man dropped to his knees, settling himself in the space between Whumpee’s open legs. 

“When I’m done with you, you are going to fucking thank me like your life depends on it.”

The sudden, high-pitched beep of the washing machine pierced the quiet of the room, signalling that the washing was done. 

Whumpee didn’t dare move an inch.

“And after I’ve filled you up,” Whumper’s hot breath hit his ear. 

“You’re going to tell me exactly which limb to cut off.”

How could they possibly know? 

He had the good sense to open his eyes slowly, hoping to look like he was exhausted, exhausted enough to excuse his sluggishness, not to look like he was taking Villain for a fool. Because he wasn't, he swore he wasn't.

Villain was standing next to him, looking down on him with a gentle smile.

-Here you are. 

They got on one knee right next to Leader. They cradled his cheek in their hand, humming with satisfaction. What was the procedure for this? Leader stayed still and tried his best not to let his fear seep in his expression.

He wanted to avert his eyes, to close them until this situation passed. Instead, he followed Villain's lead and looked in their dark brown eyes sprinkled with golden shards. They mused after a moment:

-You're so beautiful.

-Yes, sir.

He was practically sure he had whispered the wrong answer. Villain stood up and his heart fell. What was going to happen to him?

Villain took a golden and blue ribbon. He could hear blood thumping in his temples. Was he going to be tied up? He wouldn't be able to escape if it was permanent. But the ribbon was too small wasn't it?

Villain guided him to sit up. His body hurt less than expected.

-Turn around my Darling.

He numbly did as he was told. Turning around hopefully fast enough to please Villain and slow enough to brace himself. Villain reunited his strands of hair.

- Show me your neck.

He mutely kept his hair up, out of the way. The ribbon was passed around his neck. He swallowed, his throat moved the fabric.

He held his breath. It was stupid because he would only make it last longer. 

The fabric wrapped his neck and stopped before it got uncomfortable. Villain's deft fingers expertly tied a bow on his nape.

He was turned to face Villain. He fearfully looked up in Villain's eyes as they ruffled and straightened his hair methodically. Their warm hands stayed on either side of his head, fingers wrapped in his strands. Were they going to pull? They mused:

-Golden looks so good on you. White, blue and gold.

They got up and went to their desk. Leaving Leader to brace himself for what to come. A pencil scratched on paper. 

He grasped the tip of the dress, hoping it would stop his aching muscles from trembling. Was it possible to hide a device in a ribbon? For electric shocks or otherwise.

Villain came back to him, smiling softly.

-I made us breakfast, my little Darling.

Was Villain not going to explain what this ribbon was for? Didn't they want to intimidate Leader one way or the other? 

All he knew was that he would have to be grateful for the food. He pushed himself to stand, his legs strained. Villain uttered a small:

-No.

He fell back on the sofa, body tense. Villain got closer. His heart roared in his ears. What has he done? 

-I know you are glad to be able to eat something-

He was snatched into Villain's steady arms in an instant. Too quickly for him to even yelp. Somehow, this speed and strength reassured him. For a second, he had found a little bit of what Villain had been to him, a strong and skilled opponent.

-But I am carrying you there. It has been hard for you to walk yesterday, you are still in pain. Besides, you are my pretty doll now.

Leader nodded.

-My apologies.

Villain took him to yet another room. On the way, Leader held on to Villain's neck in case they would drop him. Maybe, if he did it well enough, he could make it seem like he accepted Villain as his…like he accepted Villain's treatment.

It could only be advantageous for the future, however ephemeral it may be.

He was smoothly passed from Villain's arms to the seat. They tapped his nose with a giddy laugh. He had never lived something like that before. He just stayed still, as long as he stayed still nothing bad could happen to him.

His eyes went to the banquet dressed in front of him. There was golden bread, different types of jam and butter, a fried egg and ham, cheese and fruits, waffles and cupcakes. It was colourful and ordered in a way that made everything pleasing to the eyes.

He would never be able to eat everything. How was he going to manage this? 

The idea would be to eat quickly before satiation comes, or, if Villain had time, he could make the breakfast last long so he could take breaks. He read somewhere that it was better to start with vegetables and fruits but he couldn't remember why. Maybe, it was to be able to eat more, start with things that don't give the sensation of satiation right away or maybe he could…

-What would you like to eat, Darling?

What? So he had to choose. Fall back, change of plan. Which food Villain would be more likely to like? They were strong so they would need protein but also something that looked good because they liked beautiful things. Was this too shallow thinking?

He already took too long to answer didn't he?

-The fried egg would be...nice to have?

Villain nodded, their smile was bright. This was either good news or spelled disaster. They gave him a warm plate with the fried egg. Its tantalizing scent got to him. But was he allowed to eat yet?

He looked to Villain who sat back in their own seat.

-Go ahead, you wouldn't want the food to go cold.

So he was allowed to eat on his own, no spoon-feeding then. He took a fork and a dulled knife and cut a portion of the egg under Villain's watchful gaze. He would have to eat correctly, what did that look like? He was making a mess wasn't he?

He was about to eat the piece of egg on his fork when a question interrupted him. What if it was poisoned or drugged? After all, Villain wasn't eating with him. His stomach gargled. Even if it was poisoned…

He took a bite. 

Although he could feel the fabric rubbing against his neck, relief flooded him. His muscles relaxed. His heart had a little reprieve. It felt good to have delicious food in his mouth, to eat peacefully. He could almost close his heavy eyes right there.

No…wait. 

He needed to stay on his guard. His gaze went back to Villain. They observed him almost fondly, they seemed proud. The carefully contained glee still radiated from them. They asked:

-It feels good doesn't it?

He nodded.

-Keep going, I love seeing you like that.

He obeyed and kept eating. He was more aware all his movements were being watched. He did all he could to be on his best behaviour. It was hard not to tremble beneath their heavy gaze. The few faceless mannequins themselves seemed to judge him.

When he finished, Villain took a napkin and wiped something above Leader's lips. So he had made a mess. Hopefully the ribbon had stayed clean. He forced his body to stay still.

-Is there anything else you would like to eat my Darling?

Not again. Was there anything that looked handmade? That way, he would be able to compliment Villain later. If only he was sure he was allowed to talk. Or maybe just an appreciative sound would suffice?

A burning sensation gripped his head. It was too much thinking in the morning.

His gaze landed on the cupcakes. One of them had a piece of icing on the paper. It was surely hand-made, hopefully by Villain.

-Perhaps a cupcake would be…

He used the same sentence twice. Villain completed:

-Nice to have?

He nodded. Villain picked up a cupcake with blue icing. A different one from the one Leader had looked at. Logically, Villain wouldn't bake only one of those.

-Go ahead, eat.

He carefully unwrapped it and took a bite. The filling was delicious, it was smooth and soothing. An involuntary sound did escape him. Villain seemed delighted by that. It relieved some pressure from Leader's chest. If Villain asked him what he wanted to eat again, he could ask for another cupcake.

He did ask for another one when questioned. Twice. It amused Villain and hopefully, in a good sense.

-Are you going to eat all of them?

He wouldn't be against that.

-If you'd like, sir.

Villain cradled his cheeks again, rubbing circles there. A hand combed through his hair, moving strands to the side, tucking them behind his ears.

-Too much sugar wouldn't be good for you. 

They tapped his nose. The proximity disturbed him. At least it didn't hurt, at least it was affectionate, albeit in an uncomfortable way.

Villain tapped his nose, again. He wished Villain would stop doing that.

-And call me Villain, will you?

-Yes, s-Villain. Yes, Villain.

They seemed pleased. Maybe, Villain would be easier to deal with than other captors. He couldn't have his hopes up but he was proud to have already figured out enough not to have been injured even once since his capture.

He was brought up in Villain's arms and carried away. Tension spiked, Villain didn't do anything other than hum a melody. He recognised a room soon enough. Villain left him on the podium in front of the mirror.

Not again.

At least, he had a better idea of what he looked like. The ribbon made a voluminous bow behind his head. The golden lines could be seen even under the dim light.

In the reflection, Villain came back with a bigger ribbon. This time, they would tie him up, make him into a present or something to that extent.

-Arms up, my Darling.

Up? He brought them to his head wondering why he didn't have to put them behind his back. Villain wrapped his waist with the ribbon. The touch was too intimate, too close to vulnerable parts of him although Villain kept their hands higher than his hips.

He was flustered in the worst way possible. He wished this would stop soon enough. In the meantime, he stayed still and schooled his features. Villain seemed pleased enough.

When they finished, Leader had another bigger bow behind his back. He couldn't stop the feeling that told him he didn't look like himself. He resembled more…a doll. Hopefully Villain wouldn't add make up.

He focused on his eyes, fearful and pained. Those were his eyes. Villain hummed:

-This is perfect.

Villain was pleased. It was what was important. They took him in their arms once again.

-Come Darling. We're going to take photos.

What photos? They had already mentioned those before. Would Villain collect incriminating documents for blackmail later? Who were they going to be sent to? Supervillain? Other villains? Civilians? A cold hand squeezed his heart. What if those pictures were sent to Superhero?

His mentor couldn't see him like this, couldn't see him the way he was. 

He had no recent scratch. No open injuries. No tell-tale sign of brainwashing…nothing. Perhaps he could say he was gathering more intel. How well would that go? No, no, no, no. He had to focus.

Deep breath…

…deep breath…

…one thing at a time.

First, pleasing Villain enough to have a decent chance at escaping. He needed to keep his hands from trembling, he grasped Villain's furry coat. Then, he needed to calm his racing heart. Who knew what might happen if Villain didn't want him to be scared in their arms? He hid his face in Villain's neck. They laughed affectionately at that. He was covered on that point.

All he could do was brace for what was to come.

———

Leader was aware of his own vulnerability. He was in a cutesy dress, posing in front of Villain's imposing camera, with a white background behind him. What choices did he make in life to get to this point?

Yet, he pressed on. He kept his face devoid of emotion, looking this way, unfolding his leg more like that. Uneasiness made it difficult for him to properly get a hold of himself. When he looked up, he could feel the ribbon on his nape. He had the impression to do an awful job. The twisted intimacy of it all felt wrong.

At least Villain was kind enough to not make him stand on his feet, not to make him take obscene poses. At least they soothed him with excited words of encouragement.

They were ecstatic. They moved more than he did. The clicking of the camera quickly became background noises. Despite everything, exhaustion still managed to make its way to Leader's eyes, weighing his eyelids down.

Villain came to him, jumping in excitement and practically falling on their knees to show some pictures of him. They exclaimed: 

-You're so beautiful!

They laughed giddily. Leader looked much more confident on those pictures than what he had felt. He looked regal, serene, in control. Everything he had not been since…well…

Villain wrapped their arms around him, cradling him energically, ruffling his hair.

A shy smile crept on his lips. Perhaps…perhaps he did look good. And Villain seemed happy enough so perhaps he was…safe too?

-When you'll be able to stay up I have something I really want to see you in. I can practically see it already. This is going to be amazing.

Leader nodded. Maybe, he didn't need to dread the next day. Maybe it will be worse but maybe he could hope.

Continuation Bound (part3)

Link to the Moodboard visualising this story (and Caged), by @cassiavioletblue

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