Caught in a web - Spiderman x reader

Pens and portraits

We met the day I turned seven. At the train station, you sat across from me with a small smile. Our toes could hardly touch the floor then. I remember being so very cross with you all the time. How your teasing could get me so hot in the head and set a burning glow to my cheeks. But there was laughter. What a shrill chorus we made. Giggling over such naughty things. Cramming our thumbs into an occasional cooling pie on Aunt Mays windowsill, using the dumbwaiter as our own personal elevator, yowling at the neighbor's hounds till we had them foaming at the mouth. How gracefully you seemed to evade punishment. With such clumsy, tripping feet, I could never follow so slick a dance. You were always getting me into trouble, but then again, just as easily getting me out of it.

You know, I think it was the mischief that bonded us so tight. Do you remember the night we tried "knock and run"? I think the old copper down the street was ready to clap irons on us. What about the day we hung an "out of order" sign on the bus stop and people walked away instead of waiting? Or the week we placed an apple on Mrs Pritchard's doorstep every single day? Some people are are born as friends, others are made to be more, you my love are both.

You looked at Peter sitting next to you. He was biting his pencil again and you smacked it away from his mouth. You and him were suppose to be celebrating tonight not stuck at his house doing homework. You had finally gotten away from your abusive parents and had moved into your new apartment a few blocks away from his. Peter smiled at you "hey how are you doing" the words made you feel numb. Honestly you didn't know. You looked over at Peter memories from long ago filling up your head.

I was often over at your house when we were kids. It was a place to hide and you knew it, but not once was I ever made to feel unwelcome or hurried out the door. It was a safe haven when the storm invaded my own home, my own space. School was hell every day and home just rocked back and forth between comfort and harmful. Without you, without the love you gave in that understated way, without the gentleness of your personality, I don't know what would have happened. I was never stable, not really, shifting from one place to another in my teen years, but always there was you. Sometimes I ignored you for months, lost in some new crusade, but never once were you mad when I remembered you again. Always easy with honest advice, but carefully phrased not to cause harm. You've never just been a good friend to me, you've been one of the rocks of my life - an anchor point. I live an ocean away, but if you ever need me I'll be there in mind, body and soul. Just call.

You stood up dragging Peter off the floor with you. "Let's go" "where" he said ready to follow you to the ends of the earth. "Everywhere" "that doesn't make sense" he said but it was too late you had already dragged him out the door.

The city loves me in ways no person ever has. It listens to my fierce footsteps, the clicking of my polished heels against it's dirty pavements early on a Monday morning. It sees me smile ear to ear when I see the windows on it's skyscrapers reflect the orange glow of the afternoon sun. It empathises with my frustrated groan long past midnight when I can't flag down a taxi to take me home. It hears my satisfied sigh in winter as the first sip of a morning coffee warms my throat and thaws my freezing hands. It celebrates with me when I'm on top of the world and cries for me when life gets hard. The city sees and hears and feels every moment of every day of my life. The city understands. Peter laughed as you dragged him around New York taking him through side streets and abandoned parking lots. You finally stopped running when your muscles started to hurt and your legs began to shake. "That was the most fun I've had in ages" you yelled out to the night sky. You could hear Peter giggling behind you but you decided to ignored him.

Peter stared at you trying to memorise ever detail about you. It had been a while since he had seen you last, you were always moving either by running away or by being kicked out of your home only returning when you couldn't survive the harsh streets anymore. He loved you, he loved how brave you were, how strong you were and everything else about you. He tried to visit but during the day he was at school and at night he was Spider-Man. He mentally made a note to himself to spend more nights like this, were he wasn't Spider-Man, but instead your friend or maybe something more, for he couldn't help but fall in love with you.

Meeting you was a fate, being your friend; a choice. And falling in love, was bound to happen. You are the one who paints my world. You are the one who keeps me shielded, defends me from the brutality. You are the one I will die a thousand times for.

I chose you, and I am willing to repeat the action over and over. A million times over.

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