Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man Chronicles: Gang War (Male Reader Insert)

Great Responsibility

~6 days later~

I laid on my bed immobile. It was snowing today. The day before it was stormy, the day before that it rained, and the day before that, fog. It was as if the world was becoming more devoid of life with every day dad wasn't in it.

Mom knocked on the door.

"Come in," I mumbled.

"Y/n..." she started. "You need to start going back to school," she said.

"But mom-"

"Don't argue with me, please. I know this is hard, but you need your education."

"Okay," I sighed.

She closed the door back and let me be. I covered my head with the pillow and screamed. It was all my fault. I was irresponsible with my power, and he paid the price. The best man on the planet was dead because of my selfishness, and I can't do anything with all this rage. The last time I let it out, another person died.

But, mom was right. Everything isn't gonna go my way now just because I'm mourning. I got up and pulled out my sketchbook. Even if I couldn't save dad, he was right. Maybe this is a gift. Maybe it's a curse. Either way, it's my responsibility to help who I can. With that in mind, I got to sketching.

~Fisk Tower~

Kingpin P.O.V.

"Frank's dead boss. Zipped up in a body bag and everything," my right hand Tommy told me. I clicked my favorite pen on and off.

"He... probably got clipped by the Maggia."

I kept clicking.

"They've been wanting to take over for a while."

I stopped clicking.

"Then... we'll send them a message."

~Y/n's Home~

Y/n P.O.V.

I was experimenting with my webs and testing them out. They were oddly convenient. They were strong enough to hold my weight, stretched out to a full 59.8 meters, dissolved in 117 minutes, and could be shaped in any way I wanted. It hurt a little to release them though.

I told mom I was going out, and she just said to be home by 7:30. I ran up to the roof in a red sleeveless hoodie, which had a spider emblem painted on it, black basketball shorts, and tennis shoes. I put a red ski mask and goggles over that, along with some thin gloves.

I made my way up to the roof of my apartment, and let me just say: it's way higher than it looks. One look down would have had a normal person running back down to street level, but I'm not normal.

"I'm invincible, I'm invincible, I'm invincible, I'm invincible, I'm invincible, I'm invincible," I quickly repeated to myself. I backed up, retied my shoes, and flipped off the ledge.

I was falling at 78.4 meters per second, and screaming at the top of my lungs. I could hear the wind piercing my ears, and I could feel my clothes rippling. I shot a web, which smoothly went through the opening in my sleeve.

I screamed again, this time in sheer excitement. I swung some more webs before finally perching myself on a low rooftop. I looked around, and saw a police car chasing a group of criminals, who were swerving all over the road. I hopped off the roof, this time with no fear, and swung onto the thugs' car.

Suddenly, my fingers unstuck and I fell headfirst into the road.

"That was embarrassing," I grumbled, my voice muffled by the mask and pavement.

I quickly recovered and shot a web at the hood.

I missed and hit a lamppost.

"This day just keeps on giving doesn't it?"

I sprinted after the car, which turned too fast and flipped over. I jumped over it and caught the car in midair.

Then, I turned it back over and the police exited their vehicles. Everyone has their own way of mourning, well bringing bad guys to justice is mine.

"My work here it done," I said proudly.

"You didn't do anything!" a random pedestrian shouted, throwing a hot half-drank coffee cup at me.

I dodged it of course.

"Kid, just leave this to the professionals," one of the cops said.

I didn't respond, I just swung off.

~Midtown High: The Next Day~

I walked through those doors, and I could tell from the looks I was getting that everyone knew. I was the center of everyone's focus. People were staring at me; some condescendingly, others with pity. I kept my head down and kept walking.

When I got to my locker, a crowd of people in that area dispersed. It was like I had a force field around me keeping people from getting close. My first class was algebra, which I had with Peter.

"I heard what happened," he whispered.

"I'm sorry. If you want to talk about it-"

"Thanks Pete, but I really don't," I whispered back.

I hate this. It's like the only thing I can do is sit back and watch people either pity or ignore me, with everyone afraid of acting normal. As if they all need to be sad with me.

"Y/n L/n please report to the Principal's office," I heard over the PA.

I sat across the table from Mr. Morita. There was no one else there so it was quiet and awkward.

"I heard about your father... I'm sorry for your loss."

I didn't say anything, just slightly nodded.

"You can take as much time from school as you need. Grieving is important for moving on in your life."

"Thanks, but I'm good."

"Holding in feelings like this can be detrimental to someone your age, whose mind is still developing."

"Okay."

The bell rung.

"I should get to my next class," I pointed out.

"Of course," he agreed.

"Just know that if you need anything, we're here for you."

"Yeah, thanks," I said, leaving.