Bite Sized Bits of Fic

Star Wars, Anakin Skywalker +/ Obi-Wan Kenobi +/ Padme Amidala, Anakin and Padme are fashion models with Obi-Wan as their preferred photographer. One or both (preferably both) slowly seduce him through the camera

From:

vanillafluffy.livejournal.com

MCU, Bucky Barnes, mistaken for a Hugo Boss model

From:

The Flash, Barry Allen +/ Any, Virgin-Killing Sweater

From:

Any, Any, wearing significant other's clothing for sleepwear or to lounge around in

From:

helsinkibaby.livejournal.com

Not for the first time this evening, Nick finds himself cursing Jimmy Palmer with all the names he can think of, even making up a few new and creative ones in the process. Which he knows isn’t fair. After all, Jimmy is trying to help him out, making a link between the marine sergeant whose death Nick is investigating and another, apparently unrelated, accidental death that was recorded a couple months ago - apparently digitising all those old records has turned Jimmy into something like Rain Man when it comes to remembering crime scene details. What he’d noticed had given them a lead, which had turned into a suspect in interrogation which had given them an even more viable suspect and a “well done” from Gibbs.

So yes, Jimmy had done the absolute right thing in calling him.

But what Jimmy didn’t know, and what Gibbs shouldn’t know but probably does because he’s Gibbs, is that when he’d called Nick, Nick had been in the middle of something that he really hadn’t wanted to be interrupted.

Namely, pressing Ellie back against the cushions of his couch, his fingers working their way under her shirt as his moved through her hair, his lips tracing a path on her neck that made her gasp...

Even thinking about it makes him want to strangle Jimmy who is now perched on Ellie’s desk, adding insult to inherit as far as Nick is concerned, and who just won’t stop talking.

Except now he is and he’s looking at Nick strangely. “You ok, Nick? I thought we might head out for a celebratory drink...”

Nick looks at his watch, winces at how much later it is than he thought. He’ll be lucky if Ellie hasn’t disappeared back to her place by now. It doesn’t take much thought to shake his head, affect a doleful expression. “I’d like to, man,” he says. “But I just realised... I rushed out when you called, I think I left something turned on at home.” Which, he thinks, has the virtue of not being a lie. “I’d better go see about it.”

Jimmy nods quickly, all understanding concern and Nick is out the door before he offers to go home with him and see if anything is wrong.

Arriving at his apartment he lets himself in, doesn’t even bother to hide his sigh of relief when he sees Ellie’s bag sitting by his front door, right where she’d left it. He drops his beside it and seized by an irresistible impulse calls out in his best Desi Arnez impression, “Lucy, I’m home!” A step inside and he sees that the couch where he left her is empty, that the television and the movie they weren’t even pretending to watch is turned off. Figuring she must have crashed, he turns to head to his bedroom.

And stops dead.

Because leaning against the doorframe, a tilt to her head and her hips, is Ellie. Her lips are curved in a knowing smile, her arms crossed over her chest which does not do a damn thing to hide the fact that it’s one of his t-shirts she’s wearing, an old faded Dolphins one that barely skims the top of her thighs. His eyes linger on her legs, crossed at the ankle, which he’s pretty sure she intended him to do so he doesn’t feel bad about looking. When he drags his eyes back up to her face, her smile is wide, teasing and he finds himself grinning right back.

“You went snooping through my drawers?”

He makes his voice as suggestive as possible and she doesn’t blink, just shrugs one shoulder. The shirt’s a little big on her tiny frame so the movement causes the neck to slip downwards, exposing more of her neck to his gaze. The thought crosses his mind that she might have planned it; when she quirks one eyebrow at him, he knows she did. “You told me to make myself comfortable,” she says. Her eyes widen, the very picture of innocence. “You don’t like it?”

Nick shakes his head as he takes a step towards her. “Well, I wouldn’t say that...”

His arms go around her waist, her arms go around his neck. “Because I can take it off, if you want...”

“Baby...” His lips find the junction of her neck, the area exposed when the shirt slipped. “Trust me, that’s a done deal.”

From:

Thank you so much for this, it's awesome!

From:

helsinkibaby.livejournal.com

I’m so glad you like it, I was afraid I’d gone a bit off spec with it!

From:

Any, Any,
"Is that ...flannel?"
"You didn't seriously think I wear suits 24/7?"
"How do you pull off hot businessman and sexy lumberjack!?"

Edited Date: 2018-05-04 08:17 am (UTC)

From:

helsinkibaby.livejournal.com

When Cho opens his front door, Michelle stares at him, her mouth dropping open slightly. He’s wearing jeans, not unexpected on a Saturday, but a new enough sight to make her look twice nonetheless. His shirt, meanwhile, like the dress shirts he wears around the office, stretches nicely around his chest and shoulders but for once that’s not what makes Michelle stare.

“Is that... flannel?”

She reaches out her hand as she steps past him into the hallway, her hand lingering on the material covering his bicep which manages to feel as soft as it looks. There’s nothing soft, though, about the look he gives her as he closes the door.

“You didn’t seriously think I wear suits 24/7?” he asks. His lips are curling up in a smile, but his eyes... his eyes tell a story all of their own.

So do his hands as they slide around her waist, run down her back.

Her hands move to his chest, playing with the buttons there. His eyes follow her every move. “How do you pull off hot businessman and sexy lumberjack?” She asks and he grins at that, a sight she only sees at moments like this and one she could easily get used to.

“It’s a gift,” he tells her, lowering his lips to hers and they don’t talk for a long time after that.

The next morning, when she’s standing in his kitchen watching him make pancakes, she finds out that the shirt feels as good on her skin as it looked on his.

When he looks at her though, he tells her that she wears it better but that doesn’t stop him taking the shirt off her right there in his kitchen and kissing her breathless.

She doesn’t complain.

From:

Any, Any,
Finding the perfect outfit to show off how much you don't want your ex back.
Ever

From:

nagi-schwarz.livejournal.com

Stargate Atlantis, Evan Lorne +/ Ronon Dex, fashion model AU

From:

Stargate Atlantis, Rodney McKay/John Sheppard, Rodney went from making clothes for his little sister as a kid to becoming a top fashion designer

From:

Hawaii Five-0, ensemble, shooting a Five-0 calendar for charity

From:

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, helping Bucky figure out his fashion sense

From:

Any, any, preferring to make their own clothes rather than buying store bought

From:

BBC Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes +/ John Watson, Sherlock's signature blue scarf is lost or stolen and John buys him a new one

Edited Date: 2018-05-04 03:43 pm (UTC)

From:

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Tony Stark +/ Steve Rogers, buying Steve a whole new wardrobe

Edited Date: 2018-05-04 03:48 pm (UTC)

From:

Any, any f/f, owning a fashion boutique together

Edited Date: 2018-05-04 03:44 pm (UTC)

From:

a kim (from livejournal.com)

The sun was shining in a way typically associated with Disney movies and greeting cards, and the birds were singing. Miho was driving, which meant her foot was glued to the accelerator while the other cars on the road shot out of her way like the vehicular cowards they were. Her beautiful girlfriend was sitting in the passenger seat, eating sunflower seeds and flipping idly through one of Miho's car magazines, while the book she was *supposed* to be reading, a Times New Roman monstrosity with print so small it practically qualified as hazardous sat on the dashboard with its pages flapping.

Sadly, all of these very promising indicators of a good day weren't doing much for her: very nice girlfriend and slightly less nice car were both, regrettably, headed for the same bad idea at oh, 85 miles per hour. And it was, even to a connoisseur like her, a whopper of one.

Miho, peeved from the top of her baseball cap to her much-abused boots, took a curve in glorious violation of the orange "slow" sign with less than her usual enthusiasm and leaned back,

"You do realize, the last time either of us even *saw* a high heel was high school, right? It's going to be fish out of water -- no, fish on *Mars* at your grandma's boutique."

Elin, who at six foot one was a solid wall of plaid to her right, blinked and set down the magazine. *Carefully,* without creasing the cover; Miho glowed. Abruptly, she tilted her head back and groaned,

"God, why'd you remind me. I can see it all: prom, those stupid streamers we were supposed to walk under." She made a horrified noise like a deflating balloon that went on for three full seconds -- Miho counted. "*Anthony-verfluchter-Lewis.* Miho, shoot me: I'd forgotten how much *stupid* there was..."

That set her on a tangent, as interesting things tended to do. It was usually one of her more endearing traits, but right now Miho saw her veering from let's-reconsider-the-bad-idea-land. Like what business two people whose closets were primarily composed of workmanlike jeans and button-up shirts had in a fashion store out west.

"Heels? Remember?"

Not to be dissuaded, Elin was still in full dramatic flow,

"...homeroom! Hall passes. Dress code! *Who got which lockers.*

She seemed inclined to on like this for a while.

"Baby, I'm a mechanic," Miho said with mild desperation. Outside, an elderly couple had their Sunday drive rudely interrupted by a small, neon-blue bullet cunningly disguised as a simple car.

Elin, her mouth full of sunflower seeds, made a potato-potahto gesture with one hand. "Tighten wheels, sell heels, what's the difference?"

"What's the difference!" Miho gripped he steering wheel like she was trying to protect it from this particularly shocking bit of heresy, "Apart from everything, you mean? It's *fashion* -- I don't do aesthetics."

Elin, comfortably wedged in the custom-leather passenger seat, feet propped up on the dashboard's copper detail and one hand dangling out the window over the paint job it had taken Miho *weeks* to get just right, made a small choking noise.

In her mirror, which had 270 degree visibility and no small expanse of polished wood, Miho caught a glance of herself and saw the face of hypocrisy. Hot and very well groomed hypocrisy, but still...

Like a general hopelessly surrounded by the enemy marshaling a doomed salvo, she groped around for a water bottle -- maybe it would stop Elin's snickering. She, by way of gloating, had opened the glove compartment, and was contemplating a tire gauge that had a case like a luxury watch.

Miho, driven to incoherence, made to hand over the bottle with as much insult as she could, then made the mistake of looking over at her girlfriend. Her face -- buzz cut and all -- was angelicly adorable, and very, *very* hard to be insulted at.

Miho sighed and chucked the bottle into the backseat. The muscles in her extremely impressive forearms bulged.

From:

a kim (from livejournal.com)

"Seriously, Elin, why does your grandmother expect this to work at all? Doesn't she have other options: I mean "butch couple" isn't most people's first pick to take over a boutique. It's like getting dogs to run a cat-food store!"

"Dogs're cute, I'm sure they do fine -- actually..."

The image of her mom's Labrador, shedding and drooling in unfair mental detail, briefly derailed her thought process. She floundered, during which time Elin managed to draw a complicated analogy about cross-species compatibility and something called "hybrid advantage." Time for strong measures,

"Eli!"

"Ok, ok!" Elin sat up straight, bringing her feet down with a thump, and ticked off on her fingers,

"Mama: probably yelling at someone on live TV *right now*. Papa: who knows, but not near a middle-of-nowhere family business. My uncle -- the one you met, not the fighter-pilot one -- Antarctica. Other uncle..."

Miho, inured to the vagaries of Elin's family by the fifth cousin wrestling polar bears professionally or something, ventured a comment,

"You could have just--"

A stern finger interrupted her. Miho had seen that finger immobilize mice, aggressive rats, and memorably, an opossum with rage issues. She shut up.

Elin continued,

"And finally Oma. Small, sweet. Also, terrifying: *Very* determined letter-writer -- she'd track me down and kill me with nice handwriting if I didn't come and help."

She was quiet for a while, during which time Miho took a ramp off the highway, making her hair-- an inch long and gelled harder than some plastics -- wave in surrender to centripetal forces.

"Also, I owe her," she added. There was a slight suggestion of strain around her eyes that Miho noticed immediately, and felt guilty about only slightly later.

The road was turning from asphalt to gravel now; Miho eased up on the accelerator until she could take one hand off the wheel, and set it on Elin's shoulder.

"Don't explain. If the universe wants me to spend the summer holding frilly things upside-down and mispronouncing brand names, who am I to object! Come on, we'll be the most interesting people in town: two sad butches trying to make sense of femmy fashion."

"Two sad butches in a clothing store?" Elin repeated with a trace of amusement.

She leaned her head on Miho's hand.

"Sounds like a country song," she said, and then hummed obnoxiously all the way to her grandmother's storefront. Miho, who when very, *very* drunk would admit to a certain fondness for whistles, banjos, and harmonicas -- It's the flannel I swear, Eli -- let her.

//Late. I'll finish this another time.

From:

I know you're not done yet, but thank you for the fill!

From:

Stargate Atlantis, Ensemble, Project Runway AU

Edited Date: 2018-05-04 03:45 pm (UTC)

From:

Any, any m/m, spring cleaning their closet aka The Great Purge

Edited Date: 2018-05-04 03:44 pm (UTC)

From:

Kingsman, Harry Hart/Eggsy Unwin, AU where Eggsy's a model

From:

any, any m/m or f/f, dressed to impress

From:

The Magicians, Eliot Waugh & Margo Hanson, fashion house AU

From:

Jumanji (2017), Martha Kaply/Bethany Walker, Bethany teaches Martha to appreciate fashion

From:

High School Musical, Chad Danforth/Ryan Evans, wearing each others clothes

From:

Hawaii Five-0, Steve McGarrett/Danny Williams, photographer and model AU

From:

Any, any f/f or f+f, doing each other's hair/makeup for some event

From:

Veronica Mars, Veronica Mars, hemming her own jeans to save money instead of going to a tailor

Edited Date: 2018-05-04 08:04 pm (UTC)

From:

Angel the series, Angel/Cordelia Chase, Angel's shopping trip to buy Cordy new clothes in 2.17 "Disharmony"

From: