Darkness.

In a small, tight space.

Dazedly, Namjoon briefly wondered if he was back in the trunk of that mans car, but then decided it couldn't be.

For one, the trunk had been comfier. It had been lined with something soft, whereas his current living space was digging into his bare skin painfully.

Actually- very painfully. His whole back was throbbing at even intervals- and holy fucking shit his nose was searing with pain.

He quickly tried to sit up, to stand up, and promptly banged his head on something hard, and his whole prison shook with a loud clang.

Groaning, he brought a hand up to rub his now stinging forehead.

However, something was wrong with that.

His hand moved, but so did his other one as well. And they felt a little heavier. He couldn't pull them apart.

He opened his eyes, although he couldn't see much in the dark.

Then he tried twisting his hands to separate them, and that was when he felt the scratchy material that was wrapped around them.

He recognized it instantly with horror. Rope.

He had tied himself up in the past, another thing his watchers all loved. But not like this- this knot left him no way out, something he always made sure to keep very open whenever he participated in self bondage.

Sitting up very slowly, he backed up until he felt the same type of cold, hard material pressing against his back as it was pressing against his ass and the bottoms of his feet.

It was then he became aware of something else pressing against his ass. But more like...pressing in his ass, and his breath caught in his throat.

A plug.

He had fainted and his kidnapper had taken advantage of his unconsciousness to plug him and tie him up.

Choking back a sob at the severe and perverse invasion of privacy, Namjoon slowly became aware of even more horrifying facts.

He was wearing the lingerie that he had so desperately wished to avoid.

He was in a cage.

The man who had done all of this to him was not far away.

By the sounds of food sizzling and the aroma of garlic seeping past whatever was over his cage, keeping him in the dark (figuratively and literally), the man was just a few feet away in the kitchen, cooking.

Smelling the food reminded Namjoon he was hungry.

The last time he had eaten was lunch, yesterday. It was now evening the next day.

Namjoon raised his bound hands up, biting the thick rope to stifle a crushing sob.

There was no point in calling for help, the man would hear him and come over, which Namjoon absolutely did not want, and the man had also said the windows were all sound proofed. He could be lying, of course, to discourage Namjoon from attempting to contact help. But this man had done his research. He had planned- for how long Namjoon didn't know, nor did he really want to know- and the student had no doubt that the man had definitely installed windows like that. After all, he didn't seem like the type who liked the things he fancied to get away easily.

So Namjoon sat still inside the cage- the one he now remembered seeing briefly in the bedroom before he had been pushed into the bathroom- listening to the sounds of his abductor cooking.

Everything hurt- the cage didn't have a solid base. It was just painful little metal squares digging into his skin, nearly from all sides from how tall and broad he was. His nose was still extremely tender and hurt even if he poked it with a barely there tap, and his forehead no doubt had a red mark from where he had banged it on the ceiling.

Still, he kept any whimpers of pain from escaping, not wanting the man to come over and do something even worse than he had already done.

Because Namjoon knew this was only the beginning. The bath had been a vacation compared to what was going to happen next. It would only get worse, and yet Namjoon was already at his wits end.

He buried his face in between his knees that were drawn up to his chest, wincing at the tight feeling of the bra, and wished for the millionth time since the break in that he had never made that stupid porn account.

The sound of a door opening made his head shoot up.

"Hey honey!" The man called, and the sound of high heels clacking over the tiles.

"Hey babe." A females voice.

A kissing sound, followed by the sound of a bag being placed on the counter.

"What are you cooking?" The female asked.

"Your favorite." The man purred. "It's almost done."

"Aww, baby!" She squealed, and the sounds of more kissing; this time more passionately.

Namjoon's heart pounded as he listened.

Who was this female? Did she know what her boyfriend or husband or friend (Namjoon didn't know the nature of their relationship, but judging by the kissing that now incorporated a few moans, he suspected it was either one of the first two guesses) had done? Was she in on it, or would she be horrified to find out what the man had done to Namjoon? Whose side was she on?

Should he risk calling out- get her attention?

Conflicted, he decided to listen a little longer to see if he could glean any new information first before he started screaming.

"You know, our anniversary is today." The man said.

"How could I forget?" She laughed. "It sucked I had to work, but stupid old Jae wouldn't let me take the day off. Fuck him."

"Careful, I'll get jealous."

She laughed again. "Good. I like it when you get possessive."

"I like it when you know that you're all mine."

What in toxic relationship was this? The small hope of her being on Namjoon's side started to dwindle.

"Before we eat, baby, I got you a present."

"Really?" She squealed. "Aw, sweetheart!

"Come on, it's in the living room."

Namjoon's heart hammered away, pumping sick anxiety throughout his veins as he heard them approach. He pressed himself as far back as he could, as if that would do him any good.

"A puppy?" She gasped, sounding much closer now.

"Even better." The man assured her.

A brief moment of silence, as if the world itself was holding its breath, and then the covering was yanked away.

Blinking at the sudden bright light, Namjoon whimpered in fear, wincing away as he brought his hands up to block his face.

Humiliation pounded through him alongside the fear, knowing he was practically naked in front of these two strangers, who were leaning in close to examine him.

She gasped, her hand slapping against her open mouth. Her eyes were wide in recognition.

"Oh my God!"

Hearing the shock in her tone, Namjoon felt a small spark of hope. He risked lowering his hands, just enough to peek over the tips of them to see her.

She, like the man sitting beside her, was white. Blonde hair, blue eyes, thin, wearing an outfit that didn't at all hide her attributes.

In another life, Namjoon would've been attracted to her (What? He liked foreigners, so what).

"Is it really him?" She whispered, reaching her fingers inside the cage, as if trying to touch him to determine if he was real.

Namjoon snatched his legs away before her red fingernails could make contact, staring up at her in despair when she didn't immediately scream and call the police on his behalf.

"You bet it is." The man was smug, like he was showing off a cool car or some badge of honor, instead of his kidnapping of a human being. "Caught him last night."

"You bastard!" She laughed, playing fully pushing him. "You told me you were getting drinks with the guys!"

"Happy anniversary baby." He said, pulling her in for a more heated kiss.

Namjoon stared in disbelief, filled with crushing devastation.

She wasn't going to help him, she was elated that he was here. She knew him, recognized his face. She was in on the mans researching of him.

Namjoon was her present.

Their anniversary gift.

Now the pieces fell into place: they were two terrible individuals, entangled in a toxic relationship. They both watched his videos, grew obsessed. When their destructive relationship inevitably exploded into fights, she must have threatened to leave him. The man, with his violently powerful possessive streak, hadn't liked that at all, and had come up with a terrible plan to try and make her stay. Kidnap their favorite shared hobby, and give him as a gift to her.

And to Namjoon's extreme horror, it was working.

They finally pulled apart, out of breath and hair messed up.

"Shall we have dinner, my love?" The man cooed, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "And then take your new gift upstairs for dessert?"

Though he wasn't gagged, Namjoon was still speechless as he watched them.

He had always heard stories about murder and assault about terrible people, and what they were capable of, but he never thought about it happening to him.

"Mm, let's eat quick." She moaned as he kissed her neck. "And take dessert slow."

Namjoon felt bile in his throat, and he fought to keep it down. Something told him that they wouldn't treat him kindly if he made a disgusting mess on their floors.

And then the door opened again, catching all of their attention.