spiderling ; reader imagines

Beta reading || P.P.

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: just Peter getting jealous, fluffy

~

You consider yourself to be a person of many talents. Whether that be studying for advanced physics or memorizing the dates for your history class, you're kind of a gentle learner.

It was at school during lunch when Layla, one of your friends from English class, was sitting with you and Liz and MJ and asked for a "beta reading." She'd come to you specifically, and you couldn't deny the girl with how vulnerable she was being. You'd insisted on reading whatever she was comfortable with and, after some consideration, she'd decided she'd send you the stories that night.

The trouble is, it's a Thursday, which means Peter's coming over after his nightly patrol. You're insistent on reading Layla's work, though — she wants your honest and most critical opinion on how to improve. She trusts you enough to take a hit, and you don't really want to procrastinate reading this.

So, when the knock on your window rings through the peaceful air of your bedroom, you let out a simple "it's unlocked!" and don't take your eyes off the screen.

"Baby, how many times have I told you not to keep your window unlocked?" Peter chuckles while stumbling into the bedroom. His Spider-Man suit is a refreshing black and red, and though you normally spend minutes gazing at Peter's ass, you're too into this story to really pay him any mind. "Baby?"

You inhale sharply, looking away from the words and rubbing your eyes. "Hey, Pete."

"Hey," he holds his mask with the other hand and strides over to give the top of your head a loving kiss. You're sitting up against the headboard, space on the other side of the bed for Peter to sit. "Whatcha up to?"

"Just... reading."

Peter hums before pointing to the bathroom. Nodding in understanding, you watch as Peter leaves the room to change into a hoodie and sweats. Immediately, you turn back to the story, which happens to be a reader-insert — a fanfiction, if you truly will — about the one and only Steve Rogers. Yeah, Layla has good taste.

"Still reading?" Pete says as he exits the bathroom and rolls his suit into a ball before shoving it into his navy Jansport backpack.

"Mhm," you smile, making grabby hands for him. Peter chuckles but gives in, basking in your embrace for a moment before adjusting to sit next to you. However, as he's getting up, his eyes take in the words on the screen, and his brows furrow.

"What's this?" He attempts to grab your phone, but you pull it back to your lap.

"Nothing just some... writing."

"Yeah, about what?"

"Just... stuff. It's not really important."

"If it's not important then why won't you let me see it?" He's standing beside where you're seated, looking at you in bewilderment. His hair is slightly tousled from the mask he'd previously been wearing.

"Because it's... private."

"Too private for your own boyfriend?"

"Peter-"

"No," he cuts you off. "I wanna know what you're reading."

"It's just writing!"

"Then let me see it!"

"No- Hey!" You exclaim as he quickly snatches it from your lap. Unfortunately, you don't have insanely quick reflexes like the spider boy in front of you. "Peter give it back!"

His eyes scan the page, and you watch his finger scroll up and down on the screen before his eyes glance up from the screen and down at you. "You're reading... fanfiction?" He says softly.

"It's just-"

"About Captain America? About- about Steve Rogers?"

You blink and click your tongue. "Look, it's not that big of a deal, Pete."

"Why are you- what?" he shutters and shivers in thought. "You're- what, is what we have not enough or something?" he says softly while sniffling.

"That's not it at all, Peter," you stand up quickly. "I swear- I promise."

"I mean," a bitter chuckle, "At the very least, you could be reading fanfiction about Spiderman. Not about some one-hundred-year-old man who kicked my ass back in Germany."

"Peter," you plead, "Please don't be jealous. This isn't what you think."

"If it's not what I think then why were you trying so hard to keep me from knowing?" You bite your tongue. Peter rubs at his eyes and his forehead in frustration. He drops your phone on the mattress and turns around to avoid your eyes.

"Are you angry at me?"

"I'm..." he swallows, "Sorta?"

"Are you..." you pause to gauge his reaction. "Jealous...?"

"No. What? No, I'm- of course not." You hum sarcastically, teasingly, and Peter groans. "So what if I am?"

"Baby," you run a hand through his hair and bring him up against your chest lovingly. "I'm only reading this for a friend."

"What?"

You nod, "Mhm. She's a bit insecure about her writing and asked me to beta read."

"Oh," he physically softens. "I'm sorry. That's actually kinda sweet."

You chuckle, linking your hand with his. "Besides," your nose nuzzles his, "Why would I need to read fanfiction when I have you?"

Peter blushes and looks at the ground to avoid your eyes.

"C'mon. Don't get all shy on me now." You nuzzle his nose again and he hums in content, eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

"I still feel kinda guilty for getting angry."

"Just forget about it, Pete." You assure him, "It's fine. I promise. I'd probably be angry too if I were you."

"Yeah..." he exhales. "Can we still make out?"

A giggle escapes, and you nod, leading the two of you to your comfy bed for some late night kisses.