a lazy sunday. a much needed one, considering the bruises peter had collected the night before.
damp air begins creeping out from under the bathroom door just as peter begins washing his hair - you can tell from the familiar crash of the shampoo bottle he always drops.
you fight the feeling of heavy eyes stubbornly, the sound of peter's shower threatening to lull you to sleep without him - only disrupted by the piercing ringing coming from peter's side of the bed.
it takes a while to track the noise of an alarm peter probably forgot to turn off in the mess of duvets, your fingers tapping the screen frantically once you find peter's phone.
there's only one big crack on his screen this time - peter's gotten better at taking care of his phones ever since he started calling you while out on patrol.
your own phone is elsewhere, either left behind in another room or out of battery and you need something to keep you awake until peter gets back. he should be almost done by now but each second feels like an eternity with such soft pillows under your head.
peter's password is muscle memory - if he could get your face to unlock his phone he would. instinct pulls you to the camera app to snap a few stupid photos but curiosity leads you to the contents of the rest of peter's gallery.
it's you, unsurprisingly. other than a few stray screenshots and some beautiful nature shots, it's you. you with a drink in your hand, you watching something on your phone, you with your back turned to peter.
dozens upon dozens, multiple scrolls worth of pictures of you - all of them probably the best anyone's been able to capture of you.
peter takes every picture of you with care - you're not sure there's a single photo where even the lighting looks off. even photos taken in five seconds tops were better work than you could've ever done.
you try to remember how many photos like these you have of peter. there's no shortage of photos of him on your phone but you're pretty positive the closest thing you've ever gotten is the photo currently on your lock screen - peter winking at you through a tall glass.
the bathroom door opens with a creak and peter sighs happily as he pads out of the bathroom, freshly washed and dried hair falling over his forehead even as he tried to push it away.
he's barely out a few seconds before he's jumped into bed with a groan muffled by the thick covers. it's not long before his face appears next to yours, sporting a cozy smile that makes your insides warm.
"watcha looking at?" peter hums, settling against his pillows and attempting to pull you into his arms.
he's surprised at your resistance, questions in his raised eyebrows as you only hum a response and lift yourself to hover over him.
you hoist yourself up and back up, aiming peter's camera carefully.
"what're you doing?" peter laughs, instinctively covering his face.
"shhh," you whisper, pulling peter's hand off carefully. you're really not sure how he does it but you do manage to get some photos of peter with a half-decent composition - though you'd argue that his face makes up for your lack of precision.
you let yourself lean into peter now, back to his chest with his arms wrapped securely around you as you analyze your new pictures. peter is greedy, nudging his nose into your skin right above where he kisses it.
"what's this about, hmm?" peter hums against your skin.
"nothing," you mumble, sending yourself all the photos. "you're just pretty."
peter's quiet, unusually so. his hand comes up from your waist to take his phone back and set it on his nightstand, arms coming to turn you towards him.
he's careful with you, hands holding your face, thumbs rubbing over your cheeks.
"come on, how can i not kiss you for that one?
YOU ARE READING
peter parker x reader oneshots
Romancecollection of (tasm!) peter parker x reader oneshots! gender neutral reader unless otherwise specified!