![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
amorette.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rarepair_shortsAuthor: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
amorette
Recipient:katmarajade
Title: Muse
Pairing: Parvati Patel/Colin Creevey
Request/Prompt: workplace romances, realistic body types, crushes
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,230
Summary: Colin is a professional photographer. Parvati needs her photo taken.
Author's Notes: Written for rarepair_shorts wishlist event as a gift to katmarajade. I hope you enjoy this, sweetheart!
He had never had this much trouble holding the camera steady when shooting anyone before. Colin had been taking pictures for as long as he could remember. It was his thing. Everyone knew he took the best pictures; every celebrity in the wizarding world came to his studio for the most glamorous shots.
But he had never felt so unprofessional.
“Is this good?” Parvati asked. She sat on a high stool in front of a luxurious black velvet backdrop, arching her back until her small, pert breasts stood out. The lace shelf bra barely covered her nipples.
Colin swallowed. “Yeah,” he said, his voice gruff, “yeah, that’ll do.”
Parvati smiled. “Have you ever done a lingerie shoot before?”
“Yes.” He had done loads of these types of shoots, seen loads of bony models half naked in frilly bras and knickers, giggling and posing and blowing pouty kisses at his camera. But none of them had made his breath stop in his throat—or his trousers tighten so painfully—as Parvati did sitting atop his stool in a lacy bra and knickers.
Parvati wasn’t a model, and perhaps that was the difference. She did do the modeling, but she wasn’t a model; her boutique just opened that year and she designed all the garments herself. She wanted to be the face of her business. And the body.
And Colin liked her very curvy body.
He looked into the camera and worked the lens, trying to blur the background around her and bring Parvati into focus.
+
Stay professional, stay professional, you utter burk, stay professional.
It was his constant mantra the morning before their second shoot. The entire week since had passed in a tedious blur of work and counting the days until he’d see her again. He both craved and dreaded it, for it would be both sweet relief and terrible torture. At night he would think of her in bed and touch himself, reliving their shoots like a film playing in his head. Like he were looking through his lens. He imagined pulling down her bra and exposing her tiny tits and cupping them in his hands.
+
“This one’s new,” she said, turning around and showing him her back side.
Colin’s blood all rushed south, leaving him feeling lightheaded. And overly heated.
Her small waist flared out at her love handles and rolled into sensuous, full hips and a rather plump behind. Colin wanted to do dirty, dirty things when he saw it. His cock reacted very positively to the size of it, all that body just waiting to be gripped and grabbed and manhandled. He wondered if Parvati could take a good manhandling.
He didn’t like the thin girls; no, Colin was the kind of bloke who wanted something substantial in his hands. He wanted a bit of a rounded tummy and thighs that smacked together and a big fucking arse… Fuck, he wanted to stick his dick in that. It was all his body was telling him to do, like some base instinct in him that wanted to just rut against things.
“You like them?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder.
Colin let out an unsteady laugh. “I don’t know anything about fashion, I just take the pictures.”
+
He was running late—on a Monday, of all the miserable days—when he bumped into her. Quite literally.
“Oh, goodness, I’m so sorry, Parvati!”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, “you must be in a real hurry.”
“Have to meet a new client,” he said, thinking he might like her even better in clothes. There was something pretty about her hair flowing around her face and the scarf billowing around her neck. She wore autumn-thickness robes and looked as stylish as usual. She was such a doll. He would have liked to take her picture like this, rosy-cheeked and smiling.
“Well I won’t keep you, then,” she said, and made to walk around him. “It was nice bumping into you,” she giggled.
“Wait—”
“Yes?”
He licked his lips, his mind blank when he desperately needed words. All he knew was he didn’t want her to go. “I’m free at noon for lunch. I’ll likely be around here, in Diagon. Will you… Are you… That is…?”
Parvati grinned. “I’ll be at my shop if you want to come by then and ask me to lunch properly. It’s right down the street there.”
He watched her walk that way, his heart thump-thumping.
+
He was late for the second time that day. In his haste, he Apparated basically on top of a woman just walking down the street. Almost gave the poor woman a heart attack. Just barely escaped before she hexed his ears off his head.
He only hoped Parvati didn’t have worse in store for him.
“I couldn’t get away,” he explained as soon as he ran through the door of her shop, breathing hard. “The client was horrible, kept making me retake the shots until he was happy with them. I’m truly sorry, Parvati. I hope I can make it up to you.”
“I don’t know,” Parvati said, looking away as she hung a satin camisole on a rack with countless others. “I don’t really like being stood up.”
“Please,” he said, meaning it with every fiber of his being, “let me make it up to you. Let me take you to dinner.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Do you usually take your clients to dinner?”
“Occasionally.” He gathered his courage and stepped forward. “But I don’t want to take you as a client.”
Her pursed lips relaxed into a hint of a smile.
+
Dinner turned into drinks; martinis and jazzy music in a smoky little hide-away bar. She told him she remembered him from school and his cheeks flushed hotly and he tried to hide his grin. He told her his father had given him his first camera, taught him how to use it, how to compose a shot, how to see the world through a lens. He still had it in his studio; he would keep it forever.
She wanted to see it.
He took her there, fiddling with the keys in the lock, giggling with her as she held onto his arm and whispered as though they were teenagers again and returning late from curfew.
And it was very late.
As soon as they got in, Parvati plopped down on the sofa with one leg bent at the knee. Her skirt balled up at her hips. She stared at him with that hint of a smile, fully aware she was showing him her knickers. Fully aware he was looking at them.
She spread her thighs a bit further.
The fabric was sheer.
“Would you take my picture, Colin?”
Colin licked his bottom lip, trying to make his brain remember what words were. “Soon,” was all he could say. “Soon.”
He would take her picture, over and over again. He would take her picture as they sat in bed together and regained their breath and cooled off from fucking. Lazily. Taking his time with the frame. Capturing her every curve.
But first he had to walk over to her and push her legs apart. He had to pull down the straps of her dress until her breasts popped out. First he had to fuck her senseless, the way he fantasized so many times.
And that was exactly what he did.
amoretteRecipient:
katmarajadeTitle: Muse
Pairing: Parvati Patel/Colin Creevey
Request/Prompt: workplace romances, realistic body types, crushes
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,230
Summary: Colin is a professional photographer. Parvati needs her photo taken.
Author's Notes: Written for rarepair_shorts wishlist event as a gift to katmarajade. I hope you enjoy this, sweetheart!
He had never had this much trouble holding the camera steady when shooting anyone before. Colin had been taking pictures for as long as he could remember. It was his thing. Everyone knew he took the best pictures; every celebrity in the wizarding world came to his studio for the most glamorous shots.
But he had never felt so unprofessional.
“Is this good?” Parvati asked. She sat on a high stool in front of a luxurious black velvet backdrop, arching her back until her small, pert breasts stood out. The lace shelf bra barely covered her nipples.
Colin swallowed. “Yeah,” he said, his voice gruff, “yeah, that’ll do.”
Parvati smiled. “Have you ever done a lingerie shoot before?”
“Yes.” He had done loads of these types of shoots, seen loads of bony models half naked in frilly bras and knickers, giggling and posing and blowing pouty kisses at his camera. But none of them had made his breath stop in his throat—or his trousers tighten so painfully—as Parvati did sitting atop his stool in a lacy bra and knickers.
Parvati wasn’t a model, and perhaps that was the difference. She did do the modeling, but she wasn’t a model; her boutique just opened that year and she designed all the garments herself. She wanted to be the face of her business. And the body.
And Colin liked her very curvy body.
He looked into the camera and worked the lens, trying to blur the background around her and bring Parvati into focus.
+
Stay professional, stay professional, you utter burk, stay professional.
It was his constant mantra the morning before their second shoot. The entire week since had passed in a tedious blur of work and counting the days until he’d see her again. He both craved and dreaded it, for it would be both sweet relief and terrible torture. At night he would think of her in bed and touch himself, reliving their shoots like a film playing in his head. Like he were looking through his lens. He imagined pulling down her bra and exposing her tiny tits and cupping them in his hands.
+
“This one’s new,” she said, turning around and showing him her back side.
Colin’s blood all rushed south, leaving him feeling lightheaded. And overly heated.
Her small waist flared out at her love handles and rolled into sensuous, full hips and a rather plump behind. Colin wanted to do dirty, dirty things when he saw it. His cock reacted very positively to the size of it, all that body just waiting to be gripped and grabbed and manhandled. He wondered if Parvati could take a good manhandling.
He didn’t like the thin girls; no, Colin was the kind of bloke who wanted something substantial in his hands. He wanted a bit of a rounded tummy and thighs that smacked together and a big fucking arse… Fuck, he wanted to stick his dick in that. It was all his body was telling him to do, like some base instinct in him that wanted to just rut against things.
“You like them?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder.
Colin let out an unsteady laugh. “I don’t know anything about fashion, I just take the pictures.”
+
He was running late—on a Monday, of all the miserable days—when he bumped into her. Quite literally.
“Oh, goodness, I’m so sorry, Parvati!”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, “you must be in a real hurry.”
“Have to meet a new client,” he said, thinking he might like her even better in clothes. There was something pretty about her hair flowing around her face and the scarf billowing around her neck. She wore autumn-thickness robes and looked as stylish as usual. She was such a doll. He would have liked to take her picture like this, rosy-cheeked and smiling.
“Well I won’t keep you, then,” she said, and made to walk around him. “It was nice bumping into you,” she giggled.
“Wait—”
“Yes?”
He licked his lips, his mind blank when he desperately needed words. All he knew was he didn’t want her to go. “I’m free at noon for lunch. I’ll likely be around here, in Diagon. Will you… Are you… That is…?”
Parvati grinned. “I’ll be at my shop if you want to come by then and ask me to lunch properly. It’s right down the street there.”
He watched her walk that way, his heart thump-thumping.
+
He was late for the second time that day. In his haste, he Apparated basically on top of a woman just walking down the street. Almost gave the poor woman a heart attack. Just barely escaped before she hexed his ears off his head.
He only hoped Parvati didn’t have worse in store for him.
“I couldn’t get away,” he explained as soon as he ran through the door of her shop, breathing hard. “The client was horrible, kept making me retake the shots until he was happy with them. I’m truly sorry, Parvati. I hope I can make it up to you.”
“I don’t know,” Parvati said, looking away as she hung a satin camisole on a rack with countless others. “I don’t really like being stood up.”
“Please,” he said, meaning it with every fiber of his being, “let me make it up to you. Let me take you to dinner.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Do you usually take your clients to dinner?”
“Occasionally.” He gathered his courage and stepped forward. “But I don’t want to take you as a client.”
Her pursed lips relaxed into a hint of a smile.
+
Dinner turned into drinks; martinis and jazzy music in a smoky little hide-away bar. She told him she remembered him from school and his cheeks flushed hotly and he tried to hide his grin. He told her his father had given him his first camera, taught him how to use it, how to compose a shot, how to see the world through a lens. He still had it in his studio; he would keep it forever.
She wanted to see it.
He took her there, fiddling with the keys in the lock, giggling with her as she held onto his arm and whispered as though they were teenagers again and returning late from curfew.
And it was very late.
As soon as they got in, Parvati plopped down on the sofa with one leg bent at the knee. Her skirt balled up at her hips. She stared at him with that hint of a smile, fully aware she was showing him her knickers. Fully aware he was looking at them.
She spread her thighs a bit further.
The fabric was sheer.
“Would you take my picture, Colin?”
Colin licked his bottom lip, trying to make his brain remember what words were. “Soon,” was all he could say. “Soon.”
He would take her picture, over and over again. He would take her picture as they sat in bed together and regained their breath and cooled off from fucking. Lazily. Taking his time with the frame. Capturing her every curve.
But first he had to walk over to her and push her legs apart. He had to pull down the straps of her dress until her breasts popped out. First he had to fuck her senseless, the way he fantasized so many times.
And that was exactly what he did.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 11:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 09:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 12:37 pm (UTC)I really loved this. It flowed so well and Colin had such a believable voice. And the crush! The UST! Her daring!
no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 09:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 02:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 09:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 09:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-07 10:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-06-09 04:55 pm (UTC)Colin being all adorkable and lusting over her was so great to read! I love how frustrated he was about it-- like he's totally used to dealing with ladies in their unmentionables and it's never bothered him before and he's always been a professional and then BAM! He turns into a bumbling, blushing, dirty teenager again. Hahaha! And Parvati is so matter-of-fact and just genuinely awesome. I loved her hesitation and saying straight up that she was uncool with being stood up. Go Parvati! I'm so thrilled to see these two together! (And totally cool with ignoring canon deaths in this case! Ha!) Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! *bounces*