PeterMJ + 19 ❤️
19. things you said when we were the happiest we ever were
MJ's breath tickles his ears. He squirms and snakes a hand around her waist. She leans her head on his shoulder as he categorizes his photos.
"You have an awful lot of pictures of me, Pete," she says as he drags and drops another photo of MJ—this time one of their personal photoshoots, a black and white shot of her in the bathtub—into a folder marked MJ then another folder titled FAVORITES.
Peter feels her smile. Drag, drop and repeat. "I'm a photographer," is his way of explanation.
"I don't even think my craziest fans have"—she pauses to read the number—"11,092 pics of me."
Drag, drop, repeat. Peter scoffs. "Well, I'm your number one fan and I have husband privileges."
"Half of your favorites folder is just me, you dork." MJ laughs. "I should catch up to you. Can I do a photoshoot with you?"
He twists so he's facing her. "I can think of much better ways to use my camera than pointing it at me."
"Peter!" she gasps dramatically, but her eyes are bright. "I take it the set would be the bedroom?"
He grins, shoving his laptop back onto the coffee table. Peter tugs her closer until she's on his lap. He leans up to press his lips to her, not kissing, not quite. "Doesn't have to be."
mini fic prompts | send one <3
