Fic - Restraint (1/1)
Feb. 10th, 2016 10:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
redfiona99Title: Restraint
Author: Red Fiona
Fandom: WWE Wrestling
Characters: Maryse/Randy Orton
Prompt: 28. Dominant
Word Count: 381
Rating: 15 - mostly for swearing
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, they themselves and the WWE do. No money is being made from this. This is complete fiction and doesn't resemble real life in any way.
Author's Notes: For those that don’t watch wrestling, this is Randy Orton and Maryse is the middle person in this picture. Picture chosen for inspirational value :)
Summary: She feels the weight, the power, the joy of it, more when they're lying together like this, rather than when she's actually giving him orders.
She feels the weight, the power, the joy of it, more when they're lying together like this, rather than when she's actually giving him orders.
They know each other beyond words, she can lead him with just a touch. A move of her fingers here means more, and a different move there means less. She guides him to where she wants him to be with the flat of her hand. When she does it now, the spiky stubble of his hair prickles against her palm. She misses his longer hair, running her fingers through it down to the nape of his neck, but neither of them were in charge of their looks, what Vince McMahon wanted in his workers he got, especially since he was the only show in town.
She's supposed to be hot, always, no matter what else is going on. Which is difficult when you’re bumping your ass off under megawatt lights, caked in more make-up than a clown just so no-one can tell you might be human underneath.
She supposes that she's just feeling frustrated today because the match didn't work the way she'd intended it to go, even though she has been practising hard. She's annoyed at herself, the whole wrestling thing, and the fact that she's broken a nail, which she shouldn't even notice but was apparently was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Randy, unintentionally, made it worse by him fussing over her back at the hotel when all she wanted to do was to be alone and scream. She managed to stop him with a look. He's a very good boy that way.
She'd been especially gentle while they were fucking, because she doesn't want to take it out on him, although he’d let her, he’d eat it up because she’d be the one flogging him. She won’t though, not when she feels like that, because she’s better than that, he’s worth more than that, and together they’re greater than all the stupidity that frequently surrounds them.
She feels much more relaxed now, letting Randy take what he wants, now that she’s been satisfied. Tomorrow she might give Randy the kind of hell he likes best because she’ll be in a better frame of mind then, and that’s what they both deserve.
Author: Red Fiona
Fandom: WWE Wrestling
Characters: Maryse/Randy Orton
Prompt: 28. Dominant
Word Count: 381
Rating: 15 - mostly for swearing
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, they themselves and the WWE do. No money is being made from this. This is complete fiction and doesn't resemble real life in any way.
Author's Notes: For those that don’t watch wrestling, this is Randy Orton and Maryse is the middle person in this picture. Picture chosen for inspirational value :)
Summary: She feels the weight, the power, the joy of it, more when they're lying together like this, rather than when she's actually giving him orders.
She feels the weight, the power, the joy of it, more when they're lying together like this, rather than when she's actually giving him orders.
They know each other beyond words, she can lead him with just a touch. A move of her fingers here means more, and a different move there means less. She guides him to where she wants him to be with the flat of her hand. When she does it now, the spiky stubble of his hair prickles against her palm. She misses his longer hair, running her fingers through it down to the nape of his neck, but neither of them were in charge of their looks, what Vince McMahon wanted in his workers he got, especially since he was the only show in town.
She's supposed to be hot, always, no matter what else is going on. Which is difficult when you’re bumping your ass off under megawatt lights, caked in more make-up than a clown just so no-one can tell you might be human underneath.
She supposes that she's just feeling frustrated today because the match didn't work the way she'd intended it to go, even though she has been practising hard. She's annoyed at herself, the whole wrestling thing, and the fact that she's broken a nail, which she shouldn't even notice but was apparently was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Randy, unintentionally, made it worse by him fussing over her back at the hotel when all she wanted to do was to be alone and scream. She managed to stop him with a look. He's a very good boy that way.
She'd been especially gentle while they were fucking, because she doesn't want to take it out on him, although he’d let her, he’d eat it up because she’d be the one flogging him. She won’t though, not when she feels like that, because she’s better than that, he’s worth more than that, and together they’re greater than all the stupidity that frequently surrounds them.
She feels much more relaxed now, letting Randy take what he wants, now that she’s been satisfied. Tomorrow she might give Randy the kind of hell he likes best because she’ll be in a better frame of mind then, and that’s what they both deserve.
