“Can only move the eyes” for Leo please? Preferably with an extreme gag. Like one where his mouth his stuffed with cloth (so much that his jaw hurts), then forced shut so it can be sealed nicely. By sealed I mean wrapped in layers of tape. Or perhaps glued shut and then taped shut to make Leo feel extra stuck
@badthingshappenbingo
prompt: can only move the eyes
word count: 0.7K
content warnings: intimate whumper, non-con touching (not sexual), non-con kissing (not sexual, on the head), captivity, leather restraints, manhandling, extreme gag, non-con drugging, knives, cutting (of another person)
Leo was yanked from unconsciousness before Roy was finished strapping him down to the table. His arm sluggishly lifted up in the haze of it all, and he was hardly even able to register when the mercenary gently brought it back down to the leather loop, fastening him in.
He blinked a hazy sheen from his eyes, the stark lights above him making him whimper. It was too late to do anything by the time Roy entered his field of vision, lips curved into an amused smirk and his eyes shimmering with that fox-like nature. He shushed him quietly, the noise making him wince.
“You’re alright, lion,” he hummed under his breath, leaning over him to retrieve what Leo could barely make out as a white cloth. “Keep still for me.”
A sudden shock of fear stabbed through his heart. His limbs suddenly surged upwards in an attempt to get away from him, panic seering through his nerves, but he realised he couldn’t. He lifted his head up, glossy eyes widening in horror when he realised he was strapped securely to a cold, metal table. It was digging uncomfortably into his spine, but no matter how much he jerked and wriggled, they wouldn’t budge.
Fingers tangled in his hair, yanking his head back down to the table. A wretched cry of pain escaped his lips, but it was cut off when Roy stuffed the rolled up cloth into his mouth. He wrenched his head to the side, panicked breaths choking in his throat, but the man only gripped his locks tighter, pain stinging his scalp.
“Come on, lion,” he smiled, fingers prodding the cloth further into his mouth, dragging along his tongue and making him gag. “The more you fight, the slower this is gonna go.”
Without his hands to grapple at the man’s wrists, Leo was panicking.
The gag was being forced so far into his mouth, he was sure it was about to hit the back of his throat. No matter how much he tried to spit it out, it was lodged on his tongue and violent heaves were shaking his lungs. The familiar screech of duct tape made him blink the hot tears out of his vision, frantically shaking his head.
Roy didn’t acknowledge it, instead smoothly applying the duct tape around his head, sealing his mouth completely shut. Each ragged breath suddenly became lodged in his throat, and Leo screamed into the gag in terror. The leather restraints dug uncomfortably into his skin, rubbing it red raw. The secretary tried to breathe in through his nose, but the spots still began guarding the edges of his vision, reminding him of his predicament.
There was a sharp prick on the side of his neck, and he couldn’t stop the confused whimper that sounded in his throat. Roy’s hand began gently brushing away the hair on his clammy forehead, his watery eyes wide and staring up at him.
“It’s just a muscle relaxant. Don’t worry, lion,” he cooed gently, leaning down and kissing his temple. Leo turned his head away abruptly, but the man was already fastening it in place with a strap that ran along his forehead. The sob was muffled against the cloth in his mouth, drying it out within seconds.
He could feel the effects of the drug hit him rather quickly. It was as though his whole body was floating, not quite here with him, and his panicked struggles were extinguished swiftly enough. Even when Roy pushed his shirt up, exposing the skin of his belly, all he could do was watch him in horror, his eyes darting from the smug expression on his face, and the knife in his hands.
“I need this to be perfect,” Roy hummed, ghosting the blade along his flesh. He felt a shudder hurdle down his spine, and he wanted nothing more than to leer away from the touch. His eyes wearily pinched shut, before flickering open again. He could only stare at the bleak ceiling, stinging under the bright lights. “I need everyone to know that you belong to me, right, lion?”
Leo’s throat closed up when the blade slowly sliced across his flesh, his lungs contracting painfully. Even with the intense rush of adrenaline, the pounding of his blood through his veins and the thundering bass of his heart, he couldn’t move. Each drag of the knife made it painfully aware of what he was spelling out.
Because apparently the initial carved into his wrist wasn’t enough for the mercenary.
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