V/O fics :P
In response to this post...
Disclaimer: No profit is made and no disrespect is intended.
Author: me, laeglass
Pairing: VigOrli
Rating: let’s say R
Beta: Sadly, none, so all mistakes are solely mine and I apologise in advance.
1.
jeyhawk asked for: Smoke and lemming. Orlando on his knees.
Summary: Viggo and Orlando are taking some much needed time off…
“Baby, there’s nothing wrong with this cottage,” Viggo said for the twentieth time since their arrival some hours before. “Like there was nothing wrong with cottage number six, either,” he added under his breath.
After a five-hour drive he was itching to take a shower, grab something to eat and cuddle with his boyfriend in front of a roaring fireplace, but said boyfriend had decided to get picky. It seemed he wanted everything to be perfect for their romantic little getaway whereas Viggo was happy just to have Orlando for himself and spend some quiet quality time, alone.
“Other than some mold in the fridge and a fucked-up fireplace?” Orlando said, running a frustrated hand through his short curls. “Sure, nothing wrong.” He sniffed and cast a suspicious look around. “You smell something?”
Viggo shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary,” he said, and raised his eyebrows as Orlando dropped down on his knees. “Um, baby? I’m not sure if I’m ready to --”
“Shush,” Orlando said and crawled on all fours across the floor, sniffing loudly as he went. Viggo’s eyes followed Orlando’s rump in quiet appreciation, and he was startled when the younger man suddenly cried out. “There’s something under the sofa!”
Viggo crouched on the floor and peered under the living room couch, spying a small, dark lump lying on the floor. “Is that a… lemming carcass?” he asked, trying to get a proper look.
“Ewwww!” Orlando shrieked in abject disgust, jumped up and grabbed his backpack from the floor. “That’s it. I can deal with smoking fireplaces, moldy refrigerators and even used bed linens, but I’m not sharing the house with dead rodents!”
With that, the Brit was out of the door and soon Viggo heard the car door slamming closed. He sighed and picked up his own duffel bag. Seemed like they’d be heading to cottage number eight next.
END.
2.
lee_ashburn asked for: VO - cliff and rain.
Summary: Orlando is feeling wistful.
Heavy rain poured down from the grey sky, and Orlando wrapped his arms tighter around himself. Cold wetness seeped through his green anorak and he shivered when another gust of wind hit him, wrapping itself around his slender frame and caressing his cold, reddened cheeks. His socks were wet inside his boots and he curled his chilled toes, willing them to warm up.
The cliff was but a few feet away, but Orlando’s feet refused to take him nearer, or walk away entirely.
Fall freely to whatever fate, Orlando thought. Old meme; he had done that already.
It was simple curiosity that made him take a step forward and peer down. He took in the jagged rocks some forty feet below, contemplating the fall, and winced. You wouldn’t walk out of the hospital after a fall like that. In hindsight, his fate hadn’t been all that bad, but Orlando still couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine. He stepped back, turned around and oomphed as he ran into something solid.
“Going somewhere?” Viggo’s warm breath ghosted across his cheek, and strong arms wrapped themselves around his wet form. “Silly elf, what are you doing up here all by yourself?”
Orlando closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the warmth enveloping him. “I remembered you saying something about the view, and thought I’d check it out.”
“And you just had to choose the rainiest day of the season?” Viggo’s voice was amused as he steered his young co-star in the direction of his car. “You Mirkwood elves…”
“It wasn’t raining when I left,” Orlando said, too cold to sound petulant, and exhaled softly as Viggo’s mouth covered his. “What was that for?”
Viggo’s hand found his, and squeezed. “For remembering to take your mittens,” he said. “Come on, I’ll run you a hot bath. Can’t have a sneezing elf, can we?”
END.
3.
belle_lestrange asked for: v/o tears and paparazzi. orli as a model.
Summary: Sometimes it’s just too much, you know?
The door slamming closed raised some heads, but Orlando just didn’t care. He tore his woollen cap from his head and threw it away, shrugging off his coat as he went and letting it fall down on the floor.
“Orli?” His assistant, Sarah, was the only one who dared to approach him when he was like this, and normally he appreciated her quiet tones and her subtlety, but not today.
“Fuck off,” he snarled. “Just leave me the fuck alone!”
The door of the men’s room closed behind him, and finally, finally he was alone. A tearstained face stared back at him from the mirror, and Orlando flipped a bird to his mirror image.
There were days when he hated his face, hated the fame it had brought, hated his goddamn career and how it ate up his privacy. Fucking paps. They respected nothing, didn’t give a shit about anything other than the perfect shot, and him crying, his feelings all over the place was just the best thing to happen all week what with Lohan and Hilton and Spears being in rehab and all.
Orli Bloom, the model, the Face. Orlando sneered at his image and wiped his cheeks angrily. This was why he never got involved with anyone. He wasn’t a real person, he was just a face and a body and a bank account. He was his new Corvette and the Rolex on his wrist, but not Orlando. Never just Orlando.
A sudden knock on the door broke his reverie and his head whipped around angrily. “Sarah, piss off,” he said.
“Um, I kind of need to use the toilet,” a male voice said, sounding slightly amused, “and since this is the only one in this floor I was hoping you would kindly let me in.”
Orlando opened his mouth to tell the man to go away, but before he could say anything the door opened and the guy stepped in. He didn’t work for Orlando, was his first thought; in fact, he had never seen the man before. Darkish blonde hair and blue eyes, and a captivating mouth, Orlando’s brain registered, and it took him two whole seconds to remember that he was supposed to say something.
“You can’t barge in here like that,” he said, and couldn’t help his eyes dropping to the man’s mouth as he smiled.
“Sorry,” the man said, and Orlando’s gaze was glued to the small scar that adorned his upper lip. “Figured you wouldn’t open the door, and since it wasn’t locked…”
“Fine, do whatever you want,” Orlando said and stuck his hands into his pockets, hoping to find a tissue to blow his nose with, but the jeans were so skin-tight one couldn’t fit a coin inside the pockets. He raised his eyes in surprise as the stranger handed him one, and quietly accepted it.
“It’s clean,” the man said, and Orlando had to answer his smile. It made him feel all weird inside, like small butterflies flying around inside his stomach. “I’m Viggo, by the way. I'm the guy taking the photos today.”
“Thanks, Viggo,” Orlando said, and blew his nose, aware of the way the other man was looking at him. “What?”
“Have you hurt yourself?” Viggo asked. There was a dark bruise forming on the left side of Orlando’s face, reaching from his temple to his cheekbone.
Orlando shook his head quickly. “Just.. a little accident with the car,” he said. “Fucking paps. Fucked up my Corvette.”
”Your car’s wrecked?” Viggo asked, and Orlando nodded a little. “I can give you a ride home, if you’d like. We can leave through the door on the back.”
Orlando contemplated the suggestion, knowing full well that trying to get into a cab would be a total nightmare, cameras flashing and people shouting at his face, and he wasn’t ready to deal with that today.
“Sure,” he said, and smiled. “Sure, I’d really appreciate it.”
The warm fluttery feeling that had settled into his stomach wouldn’t leave him all day.
END.
Disclaimer: No profit is made and no disrespect is intended.
Author: me, laeglass
Pairing: VigOrli
Rating: let’s say R
Beta: Sadly, none, so all mistakes are solely mine and I apologise in advance.
1.
jeyhawk asked for: Smoke and lemming. Orlando on his knees.
Summary: Viggo and Orlando are taking some much needed time off…
“Baby, there’s nothing wrong with this cottage,” Viggo said for the twentieth time since their arrival some hours before. “Like there was nothing wrong with cottage number six, either,” he added under his breath.
After a five-hour drive he was itching to take a shower, grab something to eat and cuddle with his boyfriend in front of a roaring fireplace, but said boyfriend had decided to get picky. It seemed he wanted everything to be perfect for their romantic little getaway whereas Viggo was happy just to have Orlando for himself and spend some quiet quality time, alone.
“Other than some mold in the fridge and a fucked-up fireplace?” Orlando said, running a frustrated hand through his short curls. “Sure, nothing wrong.” He sniffed and cast a suspicious look around. “You smell something?”
Viggo shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary,” he said, and raised his eyebrows as Orlando dropped down on his knees. “Um, baby? I’m not sure if I’m ready to --”
“Shush,” Orlando said and crawled on all fours across the floor, sniffing loudly as he went. Viggo’s eyes followed Orlando’s rump in quiet appreciation, and he was startled when the younger man suddenly cried out. “There’s something under the sofa!”
Viggo crouched on the floor and peered under the living room couch, spying a small, dark lump lying on the floor. “Is that a… lemming carcass?” he asked, trying to get a proper look.
“Ewwww!” Orlando shrieked in abject disgust, jumped up and grabbed his backpack from the floor. “That’s it. I can deal with smoking fireplaces, moldy refrigerators and even used bed linens, but I’m not sharing the house with dead rodents!”
With that, the Brit was out of the door and soon Viggo heard the car door slamming closed. He sighed and picked up his own duffel bag. Seemed like they’d be heading to cottage number eight next.
END.
2.
lee_ashburn asked for: VO - cliff and rain.
Summary: Orlando is feeling wistful.
Heavy rain poured down from the grey sky, and Orlando wrapped his arms tighter around himself. Cold wetness seeped through his green anorak and he shivered when another gust of wind hit him, wrapping itself around his slender frame and caressing his cold, reddened cheeks. His socks were wet inside his boots and he curled his chilled toes, willing them to warm up.
The cliff was but a few feet away, but Orlando’s feet refused to take him nearer, or walk away entirely.
Fall freely to whatever fate, Orlando thought. Old meme; he had done that already.
It was simple curiosity that made him take a step forward and peer down. He took in the jagged rocks some forty feet below, contemplating the fall, and winced. You wouldn’t walk out of the hospital after a fall like that. In hindsight, his fate hadn’t been all that bad, but Orlando still couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine. He stepped back, turned around and oomphed as he ran into something solid.
“Going somewhere?” Viggo’s warm breath ghosted across his cheek, and strong arms wrapped themselves around his wet form. “Silly elf, what are you doing up here all by yourself?”
Orlando closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the warmth enveloping him. “I remembered you saying something about the view, and thought I’d check it out.”
“And you just had to choose the rainiest day of the season?” Viggo’s voice was amused as he steered his young co-star in the direction of his car. “You Mirkwood elves…”
“It wasn’t raining when I left,” Orlando said, too cold to sound petulant, and exhaled softly as Viggo’s mouth covered his. “What was that for?”
Viggo’s hand found his, and squeezed. “For remembering to take your mittens,” he said. “Come on, I’ll run you a hot bath. Can’t have a sneezing elf, can we?”
END.
3.
belle_lestrange asked for: v/o tears and paparazzi. orli as a model.
Summary: Sometimes it’s just too much, you know?
The door slamming closed raised some heads, but Orlando just didn’t care. He tore his woollen cap from his head and threw it away, shrugging off his coat as he went and letting it fall down on the floor.
“Orli?” His assistant, Sarah, was the only one who dared to approach him when he was like this, and normally he appreciated her quiet tones and her subtlety, but not today.
“Fuck off,” he snarled. “Just leave me the fuck alone!”
The door of the men’s room closed behind him, and finally, finally he was alone. A tearstained face stared back at him from the mirror, and Orlando flipped a bird to his mirror image.
There were days when he hated his face, hated the fame it had brought, hated his goddamn career and how it ate up his privacy. Fucking paps. They respected nothing, didn’t give a shit about anything other than the perfect shot, and him crying, his feelings all over the place was just the best thing to happen all week what with Lohan and Hilton and Spears being in rehab and all.
Orli Bloom, the model, the Face. Orlando sneered at his image and wiped his cheeks angrily. This was why he never got involved with anyone. He wasn’t a real person, he was just a face and a body and a bank account. He was his new Corvette and the Rolex on his wrist, but not Orlando. Never just Orlando.
A sudden knock on the door broke his reverie and his head whipped around angrily. “Sarah, piss off,” he said.
“Um, I kind of need to use the toilet,” a male voice said, sounding slightly amused, “and since this is the only one in this floor I was hoping you would kindly let me in.”
Orlando opened his mouth to tell the man to go away, but before he could say anything the door opened and the guy stepped in. He didn’t work for Orlando, was his first thought; in fact, he had never seen the man before. Darkish blonde hair and blue eyes, and a captivating mouth, Orlando’s brain registered, and it took him two whole seconds to remember that he was supposed to say something.
“You can’t barge in here like that,” he said, and couldn’t help his eyes dropping to the man’s mouth as he smiled.
“Sorry,” the man said, and Orlando’s gaze was glued to the small scar that adorned his upper lip. “Figured you wouldn’t open the door, and since it wasn’t locked…”
“Fine, do whatever you want,” Orlando said and stuck his hands into his pockets, hoping to find a tissue to blow his nose with, but the jeans were so skin-tight one couldn’t fit a coin inside the pockets. He raised his eyes in surprise as the stranger handed him one, and quietly accepted it.
“It’s clean,” the man said, and Orlando had to answer his smile. It made him feel all weird inside, like small butterflies flying around inside his stomach. “I’m Viggo, by the way. I'm the guy taking the photos today.”
“Thanks, Viggo,” Orlando said, and blew his nose, aware of the way the other man was looking at him. “What?”
“Have you hurt yourself?” Viggo asked. There was a dark bruise forming on the left side of Orlando’s face, reaching from his temple to his cheekbone.
Orlando shook his head quickly. “Just.. a little accident with the car,” he said. “Fucking paps. Fucked up my Corvette.”
”Your car’s wrecked?” Viggo asked, and Orlando nodded a little. “I can give you a ride home, if you’d like. We can leave through the door on the back.”
Orlando contemplated the suggestion, knowing full well that trying to get into a cab would be a total nightmare, cameras flashing and people shouting at his face, and he wasn’t ready to deal with that today.
“Sure,” he said, and smiled. “Sure, I’d really appreciate it.”
The warm fluttery feeling that had settled into his stomach wouldn’t leave him all day.
END.