Chemistry: (NEW) Spiderman X Reader [ DISCONTINUED ]

Stalker Stalker

Have you ever been stalked? Me neither. Unless, that is, if you're someone like Peter Parker. Someone who deserves stalking. Not in an evil way I suppose.
The bell rings and the stampede forms in the hallways. There's nothing better than getting trampled at noon. We only had one last class left, and for me, that was Spanish. And now that I think about it, Peter and I have the same class. I want to get there just before the bell so Peter can't get the chance to talk to me. Not that I don't want to. I really want him to. But not when I've been snooping in his business.
I wait it out by the door and then turn right into class when there's approximately twenty seconds left before the bell. I walk in and go to my seat which was in the back by the wall. I sit down and lay my backpack against the leg of my desk, which was connected to my seat like most annoying high school desks. I don't understand why when we have all this work to do in high school, they give us such small space compared to a first grader's massive table just to draw shapes on.
Sure enough, Peter was looking at me from across the room, his dark brown eyes looking at me with disbelief, almost as if he knew I was avoiding him. This makes me nervous, so I grab my Spanish binder out of my bag. He grabs the edge of his desk and stands up, about to come over to me, but thank god, the bell rings. Talk about saved by the bell.
He sits back down and looks at me, turning back to the teacher as she takes no time at all to get class started. She starts by having us write English phrases en Español.
Halfway through class, I notice Peter gets up and asks to go to the bathroom. I notice he eyes me before he walks out the door. He is acting so weird. Like unusually weird. After a few seconds, I ask the same question to the teacher, and she lets me go. I go out the door just in time to see Peter's dirty yellow converse turn the corner. I hurry to the corner and peek around it, watching Peter run cautiously down the hallway. He turns to look around and I pull myself back behind the wall. I peek out again after that and watch as he then-get this-LIFTS A DAMN LOCKER SECTION. Yeah, if the capitalization wasn't enough.
    He then crouches down while holding it up, his hand going underneath it to a bag. I watch as he grabs another backpack. I'm not surprised. What does surprise me is why he's hiding it under the lockers? Isn't that what a locker is for?
     After that, he carefully and somehow quietly puts the lockers back in place, sliding them down. He then starts running out the school door. I didn't think Peter Parker as the type to ditch school. Not even class. As a matter of fact, I never thought he could lie about going to the bathroom, either.
     Of course, I chase after him, going out the door to watch him jump right over a fence.    
     "That's weird.." I say under my breath, climbing through the poles of the gate to get out. They lock during school hours. I watch as he runs down the street, looking around him constantly as he crosses the busy streets, which gets annoying because I have to keep ducking out of sight. He finally turns into an alley, and so I wait, wondering why he went in there. I crouch behind a newspaper stand, watching the alley from across the street.
    But I never see him walk out the other side. I squint with suspicion and confusion as I cross the street, walking down the alley. No Peter Parker in sight. I walk further down the alley until I feel something skim across the top of my head. I look up and swat it, realizing it was the straps from a backpack hanging down from a web connected to a clothesline. "What...?" I ask myself quietly. That looks like... Peter's backpack-
    Suddenly I feel something sweep me off my feet and fly me into the air, my body bouncing and hanging from my foot, everything turning upside down. I look up in panic, seeing the same kind of white silky, stringy material of webs caught onto my foot. Something blue and red lowers into my vision from a thread of web, upside down too. My body swings to and fro from the quick motion, my head barely banging into the brick wall behind me. Then the figure in front of me says in a familiar, quick and high pitched voice, "Sorry, sorry!!" And the person comes towards me as they hang upside down from a web with their feet, their hands reaching out to- surprisingly gently- cup their gloves around my head, bringing me forwards, but, closer to his face. I can feel his thumb stroking the back of my head and it makes me blush as I realize Spider-Man himself was in front of me.
    I stare at him, and he stares at me. Then, we both look away, Spider-Man letting go of me, but taking my wrist to prevent me from swinging backwards. I can feel the blood rush to my head. Spidey notices and easily takes the webs off of my foot, his arms holding my body. I can feel his muscles around me, his tight but comfortable fabric suit rubbing against my skin. That's probably a detail I could've left out if I didn't have a major crush on this guy by now. (Assuming it was a guy at all.)
    He lowers all the way to he ground with one hand holding onto the web, the thread somehow extending to keep lowering. He looks at my blushing face the whole time, which makes me blush even more, damnit.
    When we reach the ground, which didn't take any time at all, he sets me down on my feet. I just look at him. I look past him at the webbed backpack and the clothes hanging out of it, noticing they were also Peter's clothes. I look back at "Spider-Man" and then turn around to run, not wanting to be confronted, nor get in trouble for not reporting Spider-Man's identity to the NYPD. Because I know I won't rat him out. I start running, but then I feel him grab my hand with a firm and strong grip, noticing he holds my hand just like Peter did yesterday in his apartment. I blush darker and turn back around to face him. Only, this time, he has his mask halfway up. I look at his lips and chin, able to tell it was him, only because I may be obsessed with him. Maybe.
    "(Y/N)- I mean- ma'am? Can I take you to the roof?" He asks. He sure acts like Peter Parker. You would think he wouldn't be asking for my permission to take me to the roof when he just flung me to space a few seconds ago. I nod a 'yes.'
     He puts his arm around my waist as he walks to the wall, climbing up the side of the building. I find this way too strange. Sure, I've seen the YouTube videos, but for what reason would I actually believe they were legit?
     He climbs over the edge of the building and stands on the rooftop, walking down to the center of it where some random plastic chairs were trashed. I guess that's one way to use a rooftop. Pigeons fly away with a 'coo' as we go to them. He's still holding onto me. Once we reach the chairs, he lets me go and picks one off of its side, standing it up. He then offers it to me, so I sit. He goes to the other chair and sits down in it across from me.
     "You weren't supposed to see that.." he says, looking at his web patterned sock shoes like he just committed the biggest failure ever.
     "Well I did.." I say awkwardly, trying to recollect myself as I look at him. Nothing more casual than sitting across from Spider-Man, having a conversation while on a trashed apartment rooftop.
      "Yeah, only because you were following me." He says, looking up at me, "..Why did you take my notes?" Now, Peter is smart, of course he would figure out I stole his papers. I'm the one looking at my shoes now, feeling guilty now that I have to tell him to his face that I did, indeed steal his notes.
     "You were acting weird! What was I supposed to do? And your notes, what isn't suspicious about a bunch of papers titled 'Web Notes?'" I sigh and look up at him. "I'm sorry." He looks at me, his spider lenses squinting and making a little robotic sound.
"It's okay. Wait-no! No, it's not okay. You can't know about me!" He worries. I sigh and look at him.
"Peter, I'm not going to tell anyone. You know that much." I say. A long moment drifts between us before he pulls off his mask, holding it in his hands. He makes an ashamed facial expression as his hair flops down in the way of his forehead.
"Okay." He says, trusting me. And that's how I solved the case. Now what do I do with that information?

AN- Hello Webheads/Hollanders! Have a merry Christmas!! ~Faith