𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤

Head Scratches

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → fluff

Summary → Peter loves getting head scratches from you.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

It was a lazy afternoon in Peter's room, the glow from his laptop casting soft light across his bottom bunk bed. You were sitting upright, and Peter was sprawled out across your lap, his head nestled comfortably on your thighs. The movie playing on the screen was halfway through, but you weren't really paying attention. Without realizing it, your fingers started absentmindedly brushing through Peter's curly brown hair.

He didn't say anything at first, but his body melted into your touch like it was the most natural thing in the world. You smiled at the peaceful expression on his face, oblivious to the fact that your hand had become a source of pure comfort for him. It wasn't until you felt his breathing slow, his chest rising and falling in an even rhythm, that you realized Peter had fallen asleep. He looked so peaceful, so content that it made your heart swell.

That was the first time.

Now, it's practically become a routine. Peter has never outright asked for it, well....not until today, but the way he'd melt into your touch or whine softly whenever you pulled your hand away made it clear. He loved it.

You were both in your room this time, sitting on your bed as you finished up your homework. Peter sat beside you, occasionally sneaking glances your way, and you could feel his hesitancy as the silence stretched between you. He shifted slightly, his fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he cleared his throat.

"Uh... so," Peter began, his voice soft and hesitant, "I was wondering if...um...if you could... you know... scratch my head again?"

You blinked at him, taken aback by his shy request. He was avoiding eye contact now, cheeks slightly pink, but you could see the hopefulness in his expression.

"You want head scratches?" You asked, your voice gentle, almost teasing.

Peter nodded, biting his lip before adding quickly, "I mean, only if you want to! You don't have to or anything, but... it felt really nice last time, and, uh... yeah."

Your heart melted. How could anyone say no to this adorable boy?

With a soft smile, you patted your lap. "Come here, Peter."

His face lit up instantly, his shyness dissolving into excitement as he practically dove onto your lap, settling in with his head resting comfortably against you. You started running your fingers through his curls, scratching lightly at his scalp the way you knew he liked.

Peter sighed in contentment, his eyes fluttering shut as his whole body seemed to relax at once.

"This... this is the best," he mumbled, his voice muffled by your lap. "You have no idea how much I love this."

You chuckled, your fingers moving rhythmically through his hair. "You're like a cat, you know that?"

He gave a sleepy, playful smile. "Maybe I'm part cat," he joked, snuggling closer into you.

You couldn't help but notice how utterly relaxed he was, how his earlier shyness had melted away completely. It was moments like this that reminded you how much you adored Peter. You leaned down a little, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, and his smile widened in response.

"Mm, I could get used to this," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

You scratched a little harder, and Peter let out a low groan of approval.

"Oh yeah, right there," he said, his voice deep with relaxation. You couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, feeling proud that you could make him this happy with something so simple.

But then, you absentmindedly pulled your hand away to adjust your position on the bed. Peter immediately let out a whine, his eyes popping open as he pouted up at you.

"Hey! Why'd you stop?" He protested, looking at you with wide, puppy-dog eyes.

You laughed, unable to take his whining seriously. "Relax, Peter. I was just moving."

He huffed dramatically, turning his head slightly on your lap to get more comfortable. "Well, don't stop for too long. It's too nice..."

You rolled your eyes playfully, your hand returning to his hair. The moment you resumed scratching, Peter hummed contentedly and closed his eyes again, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"I don't know how I survived without this," he said after a moment, his voice muffled and sleepy.

"Survived?" You teased. "That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?"

He shook his head lazily. "Nope. I'm being totally serious. You have no idea how good this feels..."

"Maybe you should be a little nicer to me, then," you said, giving his hair a playful tug.

Peter whined again, his face scrunching up in protest. "I am nice to you!"

You raised an eyebrow, smiling down at him. "Uh-huh. But you still whine like a baby whenever I take my hand away."

"I can't help it!" He defended, a hint of a smirk on his lips now. "You've turned me into a head-scratch addict."

You grinned. "That's not a bad thing, is it?"

"Nope. Not at all." He shifted slightly, pressing his cheek against your leg. "If anything, I need more."

You shook your head fondly, continuing to work your magic on his scalp. The gentle rise and fall of Peter's chest told you how relaxed he was, and the longer you scratched, the quieter he became.

"Peter?" You whispered softly, glancing down at him after a few minutes.

No response. His breathing had slowed, and you realized that he had dozed off again, a soft, peaceful expression on his face.

You smiled, running your fingers through his curls one last time before settling back against the pillows. Watching Peter sleep so soundly on your lap filled you with warmth, and you felt a sense of contentment wash over you.

As he slept, you couldn't help but think about how lucky you were to have him, how someone as brilliant and brave as Peter could be so soft and sweet around you. You'd give him all the head scratches in the world if it meant seeing him like this, peaceful and happy.

And from the way he mumbled in his sleep and snuggled deeper into your lap, you knew Peter felt the same way.

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