Jan. 20th, 2003 10:58 am
Ficlet: untitled, mo/vm
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fox_confessorDisclaimer: A work of fiction; the recognizable people in the story belong to themselves and have never performed the actions portrayed here. I do not know the actors nor am I associated with them in any way. If you are underage, please do not read this story. I am not making any profit from these stories, nor do I mean any harm.
Title: Untitled
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Lotrps
Pairing: MO/VM
Notes: crack het fic. scary.
Viggo slipped behind Miranda, looking at her shoulders where they were sliced by the thin white silk straps of her dress. He saw her upon canvas, formed from an artist's palette and smiled, wanting to savor that image.
"What does it make you feel?"
Miranda jumped at the sound of his voice so close to her ear. She fumbled for words, finally choosing what she hoped at least sounded reasonably calm. "Excuse me?"
"The painting. How does it make you feel?"
"Oh. The painting. It's very..." She replied uncertainly, suddenly nervous in his presence. She turned to face him and lost her words again. When he looked at her this way, she felt very exposed--naked--and she supposed that was his aim. A buzz started in her ears and her throat constricted. She opened her mouth and closed it again, unable to make a sound.
Placing his hands on her shoulders, Viggo turned her very deliberately towards the painting, smiling to feel her shiver.
"How does it make you feel?" He whispered again.
"Nervous. Scared."
He leaned down and brushed his lips over her shoulder, breathed in the scent of her hair.
"Don't." She turned to face him again, aware of how close they were standing. She meant to say more--don't touch me, don't kiss me, don't start this again--but couldn't think for seeing the look in his eyes. Could only remember long nights. Her hand fluttered to her throat and she closed her eyes against him. "Please."
When she opened her eyes again, she was alone.
Title: Untitled
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Lotrps
Pairing: MO/VM
Notes: crack het fic. scary.
Viggo slipped behind Miranda, looking at her shoulders where they were sliced by the thin white silk straps of her dress. He saw her upon canvas, formed from an artist's palette and smiled, wanting to savor that image.
"What does it make you feel?"
Miranda jumped at the sound of his voice so close to her ear. She fumbled for words, finally choosing what she hoped at least sounded reasonably calm. "Excuse me?"
"The painting. How does it make you feel?"
"Oh. The painting. It's very..." She replied uncertainly, suddenly nervous in his presence. She turned to face him and lost her words again. When he looked at her this way, she felt very exposed--naked--and she supposed that was his aim. A buzz started in her ears and her throat constricted. She opened her mouth and closed it again, unable to make a sound.
Placing his hands on her shoulders, Viggo turned her very deliberately towards the painting, smiling to feel her shiver.
"How does it make you feel?" He whispered again.
"Nervous. Scared."
He leaned down and brushed his lips over her shoulder, breathed in the scent of her hair.
"Don't." She turned to face him again, aware of how close they were standing. She meant to say more--don't touch me, don't kiss me, don't start this again--but couldn't think for seeing the look in his eyes. Could only remember long nights. Her hand fluttered to her throat and she closed her eyes against him. "Please."
When she opened her eyes again, she was alone.