#IM IN LOVE FURTHER THAN I ALREADY WAS??? NOT CLICKED BAIT.

[shuruzy]

i know this is my art acct but ghkn,g... cannot stop thinking about that feh channel 4th anniversary Shannan art..... GGOH.. HE!!!!!

[derryqueenx]

YOUR USED AS BAIT FIC IS SO GOOD maybe a sequel with the hurt bingo prompt “collared” ? im so excited to see what happens next AHH

Collared.

Word Count: 1887 (kinda short one sorry. I didn't want to drag it out and start going into other whump tropes or prompts.)

TW: Swearing, kinda dehumanization? small graphic violence, mention of blood THIS IS A WHUMP FIC SO READ AT CAUTION

There’s only 4 prompts left to be claimed!!

Send through your prompts and any Noel/Julian related characters (if you have one in mind! If not I’ll just write whatever I feel works best for said prompt)! The Free Prompt square is if you want me to write a fic based on something that’s not already written! You can send them in and just say it’s for the ‘free prompt’ bingo. Let’s cause our favourite characters some hurt (with small comfort. I’m not a monster.) blue = already submitted

Lyle had a habit of leaving Vince alone for undisclosed amounts of time, and with no view to the outdoors, it was impossible for Vince to tell how long he’d been here. He thinks only a few days, but it could very easily be a week by this point, however Vince didn’t allow himself to think that.

If it had been a week than that means what Lyle said about Naboo finding him was true. The Shaman would have been here the second he located Vince, and if he wasn’t here yet that means he hasn’t located him, which means who knows how long it will take until he does… If he does.

And Howard…

That means that Howard has spent an entire week both without Vince and without even knowing where Vince was or if he was okay. The concerned words of Howard replayed over and over again in his mind, telling him how he didn’t want Vince to go into the club, how he didn’t trust the plan, how he was worried about Vince’s safety, and all Vince told him was that he’d be fine and not to worry.

What a lie that turned out to be.

But Vince truly did believe it at the time because nothing bad ever happened to him. No matter the threats or the implications, Vince always walked away without so much as a scratch. Which could hardly be said for how he felt now…

For the past however long it had been, Vince had been sat on the cold hard concrete floor, legs crossed as comfortably as he could manage, with his wrists bound behind his back with rope, which further attached to a construction pole at the back of the room, only allowing him a few meters of range before he was yanked back by the resistance. His wrists hurt from the friction, his shoulders hurt from the strain, and his legs hurt from being sat for too long, but it was still hardly the worst pain he’d felt so far.

That belonged to when Lyle left him bound to the chair for over 24 hours with no food or water, a gag shoved in his mouth for good measure. Vince had cuts on his wrists and ankles from where he’d tugged too harshly against the restraints, and his jaw was throbbing by the time Lyle had removed the gag. Vince really didn’t want to be put in that position again.

So as much as this one also sucked, he was silently grateful he could at least move and talk this time around. But that didn’t mean he was going to be appreciative.

After what felt like an eternity of silence and loneliness, the door to the room clicked open, exposing Lyle in the bright hallway light as Vince had to hide his head from the sudden brightness. He’d already become so accustomed to the darkness of the room over the last few days he was starting to worry about how long it would take him to adjust back to the sun when Naboo finally did rescue him.

“Good morning, Vince. How are we today?” Lyle cooed as he walked into the room.

Morning? Had another day passed already? “Oh you know, just peachy.” Vince spat back at him sarcastically, looking back at with a glare in his eyes. “Love being held prisoner. It’s my favorite past time actually.”

“Ah. Still the same as always then, good to know.” Lyle commented gleefully as he walked closer to Vince, who instinctively stood up and shuffled back a little to keep some distance between them. “And I’ve told you Vince, you’re not being held prisoner. You live here now. This is just as much your place as it is mine.”

Vince scoffed, laughing loudly as he rolled his eyes at the man. “Oh yes, I can certainly feel the equality between us from where I’m standing with my hands bound behind my back.”

Lyle smiled at Vince in a way that could quite easily be mistaken for sweetness, but Vince knew better than that by now. Lyle found Vince amusing. “Think of it the same way that a cat lives in its owners house. The owner technically is in charge of whatever the cat does, when it eats, where it goes Et cetera, but that doesn’t mean that cat still doesn’t live in the house. The cat still knows its home and who it belongs to.”

“I’m not your fucking cat.” Vince snarls at him, once again testing the bounds on his wrists in frustration as he wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug look off Lyle’s face. “And you don’t own me. I don’t care how much money you wasted, I’m not your property, you got that? And once Naboo and Howard get here you’re going to regret ever thinking you can own me.”

Lyle simply looked at Vince with an unreadable expression for a moment, eyes squinting as if he was studying the other man expertly, before breaking out into a wide smile, a dark chuckle escaping his lips and filling up the room around them. “Funny you should say that, Vince, because I actually had my shaman friend make you a welcoming gift.” Lyle reached down into his pant suit pocket, and Vince didn’t dare break his gaze from the man’s hand when he pulled out something. At first Vince wasn’t sure what it was, his brain unable to register the possibility, but once Lyle held it up proudly for Vince to see, his heart dropped in his stomach. “I thought black would be the best color, don’t you agree?”

Vince took another step back, eyes wide as his nerves started to kick in. “Im not fucking wearing that!” Lyle was holding a thick black leather collar with a buckle on the back, a tag and loop on the front. From here Vince couldn’t see what the tag said, and there was no chance in hell he was about to find out.

Lyle’s expression didn’t change, despite Vince’s outcry and movement. He still looked as smug and proud as ever as he watched the man before him, taking a step closer every time Vince took one further away. “Weren’t you just listening? A pet doesn’t get a say in what it does. It does whatever the owner tells it to, and right now I’m telling you that that you need a reminder on your current circumstance. Your friends aren’t coming for you, Vince.”

“Yes, they are!” Vince cried back, anger starting to take over as he cut off Lyle.

But Lyle continued on unfazed. “And I like my properties to know who they belong to.” Lyle took another step closer and Vince suddenly found himself backed up against the wall, nowhere to go as Lyle loomed over him.

“Get the fuck away from me!” Vince shouted, not thinking clearly as he tried to make a run for it past Lyle, momentarily forgetting about the rope keeping him in place. He made it only a few steps before Lyle, clearly fed up and impatient with Vince already, simply stood down on the rope between Vince’s bound wrists and the pole, jolting him back harshly and dropping him to his knees, preventing him from moving any further away. Vince continued struggling regardless, trying to pull and tug on the rope as best he could, but from the angle he was bound he couldn’t put too much pressure into it without risking a dislocated shoulder. “Fuck you!” He screamed, settling on using the last weapon he had left to his advantage; his voice.

“Easy now. This will only take a moment.” Lyle remained where he stood on the rope, reaching forward to grab a tight hold of Vince’s hair on the top of his scalp to keep his head still as he roughly pulled it back, exposing his neck and Vince continued to squirm and cuss underneath him.

Before too long, Lyle has successfully placed the collar around Vince’s neck, securing it tightly at the back in a way that left Vince feeling rather claustrophobic, his breathing not as easy as it was before due to how tight Lyle had made it. It instantly felt uncomfortable, like it was burning his skin at the mere implication of it being on him.

When Lyle released him, Vince thrashed about, trying to loosen the buckle without the use of his hands, and of course that did absolutely nothing. It felt wrong. It felt foreign. It felt like betrayal.

Lyle intended this to mark his property, but Vince didn’t belong to him. If Vince belonged to anyone it would be Howard, but now this was on him and it wasn’t for Howard. What would Howard think if he saw Vince like this? Would he think Vince was okay with it? That Vince wanted it?

“Ah, there we go. Perfect. ” Lyle’s voice soothed, seeming rather pleased with himself as Vince continued to struggle for a few more moments, before realizing it was no use. He couldn’t do anything about it when he was like this. He’d just have to wait until his hands were freed. Vince glared back up at him from where he kneeled on the ground, imagining fire burning out Lyle’s eyeballs. “Now don’t pout. I think it suits you. It’s specially made, of course. No one can take that off you except me. Not even you.” Lyle seemed rather pleased with himself.

“Howard’s going to kill you.” Vince spat in response, a repeat of his previous statement that he’s made sure to tell Lyle every time he’s seen him. A reminder to himself that Howard was coming. He just had to wait for him.

“He’ll have to find us first.”

“He will.” Vince answered matter-of-factly. “He won’t give up until he finds me.”

“You seem awfully confident in this ‘Howard’ of yours.” Lyle crossed his arms curiously. “Wonder what he would think if he saw you like this.” Lyle reached forward, playing with the tag that hung from the front of the collar, but Vince had had enough by now. His hands were bound, he was being forced to stay with this psychopath, and now he had a restricting collar around his throat. One couldn’t blame him for being pissed.

When Lyle reached forward, Vince took his opportunity to once again use his only weapon available to him, biting down hard onto Lyle’s finger when it got too close.

Lyle cried out when his skin was pierced enough to draw blood, managing to yank his hand away in time before Vince bit down too much to cause any serious damage, holding his fingers to his chest in pain as the blood ran down his hand, seeping onto his shirt and dripping to the floor, all while Vince just smirked proudly up at him. “How’s that for a fucking cat you twa-“ But Vince was cut off when Lyle backhanded him across the face, sending him sprawling down to the ground.

“You fucking- Ugh! I think you need to learn some manners.” Lyle cussed, his bleeding hand still being held tightly to his chest as he stared down at Vince, his nostrils flaring with rage. “Good thing we have all the time in the world to teach them to you.”

-

oyoyoy the Vince whump has returned after a small lil hiatus. NOW if you’ve made it this far PLEASE lemme know if I’m on the right track with what you guys want! I’m all for doing more damage and making this even more whumpy, but don’t wanna scare y’all off. Hahah