𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤

Undivided Attention

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → none

Summary → The reader's not used to getting attention, but Peter's different.

☆・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

The cafe was bustling with activity, the scent of freshly baked cookies filling the air. You stood near the counter, nervously tapping your fingers against the cool marble. It was one of those moments where you felt the need to perform.

The group of your classmates-people you barely considered close friends-sitting at a nearby table, laughed at something someone said, their energy loud and infectious. You smiled, though it didn't quite reach your eyes. You grabbed a plate of cookies and walked over to them, putting on your best bubbly expression.

"Hey guys! These are fresh from the oven, I made them," you announced, setting the plate down with an exaggerated flourish.

They paused for a moment, looking at the cookies. "Oh, thanks," one of the girls said absentmindedly before returning to her conversation. The others followed suit, barely sparing you a glance.

You stood there awkwardly, the heat rising to your cheeks. They didn't even notice the effort you'd put into baking them, didn't ask how long it had taken or if you'd made them from scratch.

Eventually, you drifted back to the counter, your shoulders slumping. You'd done it again-gone out of your way to get someone's attention, only to be met with indifference. It always left you feeling hollow, but you didn't know any other way.

---

Two months into your relationship with Peter Parker, things felt... different. Good, but different.

You sat across from him at your favorite diner, nervously stirring your milkshake with your straw. Peter was already halfway through his, occasionally sneaking fries off your plate. You didn't mind. What caught you off guard was the way he was watching you.

"What?" You asked, your voice uncertain.

Peter blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. "What do you mean?"

"You're staring," you said with a small laugh, trying to hide the nervousness creeping up your spine.

Peter grinned sheepishly. "I didn't realize. I just... I like watching you."

You froze, the words settling in your chest like a warm, unfamiliar weight. "Why?"

He tilted his head, genuinely confused. "Because you're interesting."

"Interesting?" You repeated, laughing softly. "I'm not interesting."

Peter frowned, leaning forward. "Yes, you are. Like, just now-you were stirring your milkshake in this little circle. You always do that when you're thinking about something."

Your brows furrowed. "I do?"

He nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. And earlier, when we were ordering, you asked about the specials even though you already knew what you wanted. You always do that too. It's like you like hearing your options, even if you're already set on something."

Your cheeks burned as his words sank in. No one had ever paid attention to you like this-not without you going out of your way to make them notice. And here Peter was, noticing things about you that even you hadn't realized.

"That's... weird," you said softly, though your voice lacked any real conviction.

"It's not weird," Peter said firmly. "It's you. And I love learning about you."

The warmth in your chest grew, spreading to your fingertips. You looked down at your milkshake, feeling almost shy under his gaze.

---

Later that week, you were sitting on Peter's bed, flipping through one of his textbooks while he tinkered with something on his desk. The quiet hum of the room was comforting, a stark contrast to the noise of your usual environment.

"Hey," Peter said suddenly, turning to look at you.

"Yeah?"

He stood up and walked over, sitting beside you on the bed. "You're really quiet today."

You shrugged, unsure how to explain the thoughts swirling in your head. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip. "About how... I don't know. I feel like I've been trying to get people to notice me my whole life. Like, I have to do something for anyone to pay attention."

Peter's expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand. "You don't have to do anything for me to notice you."

You looked up at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. "You always say that, but I don't get it. Why? Why do you pay so much attention to me?"

Peter smiled, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand. "Because I care about you. And because you're worth noticing. You don't have to put on a show or bake cookies or do anything special. You're already special, just by being you."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away. "No one's ever said that to me before."

"Well, get used to it," Peter said with a grin. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

You laughed softly, leaning into his shoulder. For the first time, you felt truly seen-not because of something you'd done, but because of who you were. And it was enough.

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