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author: LazyPerfectionist (on ao3)
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You awoke to the drip, drip, drip of an improperly closed faucet to your left and the creak of a puttering, old ceiling fan overhead. It took you a couple of moments to force your eyes open, but you were no stranger to sleep paralysis, so rather than panicking over the fact that you had lost control over your limbs, you relaxed and gave yourself a few moments for the rest of your body to wake up.
Those few moments passed and you opened your eyes, only to realize that you truly were being bound with some type of four point restraint by an imperceptible force. Using Gyo, you realized the substance was a stretchy pink material, like a sticky gum, that wrapped around your wrists and ankles and was surprisingly difficult to stretch.
You started to panic. Laying flat on your back and being restrained like this was not your cup of tea for obvious reasons. This was especially fear-inducing when you realized this was nothing close to the quaint hotel room you had spent the last night in. Heart pounding in your chest, you closed your eyes again, as you tried to recount what had happened in the last twenty-four hours.
You had caught the eye of an oddly dressed, but charming young man while seated at the hotel bar, lamenting the fact that you had been stood up for the third time in the past two weeks. You had been starting to wonder if something was off-putting about your online profile, or maybe the way you spoke to these potential dates, or the simple fact that an easy Whoogle search brought up your brutal mixed martial arts history. 36 fights and undefeated. A history of possible overboard cruelty in the ring. It didn't help that most of your opponents were disarmed by your soft features and airy voice the moment they stepped in the ring with you, and the way you transformed into a creature of nightmares the moment they landed their first hit. You probably were scarier than you thought, and this did not bode well for your love life.
Despite the fact that those men did not seem to want you, evidenced by the fact that they never showed up at the expected time, this man seemed to have clearly wanted you. He approached you in almost a swagger - the man was so confident - and sat beside you, ordering you a drink and saying just the words you had needed to hear. That you were beautiful, that you immediately grabbed his attention from across the room, that he'd heard about your battle history and was both impressed and interested in sparring sometime. You were elated that he was a fighter too, with most of his matches at Heavens Arena, a dream destination for you. You'd let him sweet talk you into following him up the floors of the high-rise and into a hotel room, where you'd engaged in raunchy, desperate sex, the kind only between strangers who would never again see each other in daylight. You had such a need... and he had fulfilled that for you with perfection. You'd fallen asleep in his arms, and now... now here you were.
It had to have been him who brought you here. Had he drugged your drink? You were unsure, you remembered every detail of the night before, every touch, caress, kiss, thrust, every word he whispered into your ears.
How embarrassing to have been caught off guard. You had never thought it would be you, trapped like prey. It was always other women. That's what everyone thinks. It can never be you. You are too smart, powerful, careful...
"What has you so tense, love?" His deep, honeyed voice rang out from your left side. You struggled against your restraints one more time, only to hear him chuckle softly at your agitation.
"Let me go!" You yelled back at him, as his face came into view once he had walked over to you, arms crossed, his impeccably maintained fingers grazing his chin. Those same gold eyes that had appreciated you, the same lips that fed you with words of affirmation just to fatten you up for slaughter were no longer beautiful, just horrid reminders of how silly you had been to trust him.
Your tears were free-flowing now as he sat by you on the bed, a large hand delicately stroking your face. You didn't know what it was like to be fragile or powerless. This wasn't you. This couldn't be you.
He leaned in, so that his warm breath tickled your nose as he spoke:
"Don't cry. All I want is for us to continue to make lovely memories together."
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