Tangled in the Web / Gwen Stacy x Sibling! Male Reader
Y/n Stacey, Gwen's adopted brother, struggles with feeling inadequate as a fellow spider hero. He pushes himself too hard on patrols, trying to prove his worth. Gwen, worried for him, finds him one night and reassures him that he doesn't need to be perfect, reminding him that being himself is enough.
A/n: This was requested by an anon. Enjoy it!
Y/n Stacey hung upside down from the Queensboro Bridge, the city's lights glittering below him. The cool night breeze swept across his face, but it wasn’t enough to chase away the exhaustion settling into his bones. He'd been patrolling for hours—again. His muscles ached, and his head pounded, but there was something about the quiet of the night and the hum of traffic below that kept him tethered to the city.
Somewhere out there, Gwen was probably asleep, or maybe getting ready to call it a night after her patrol. Y/n didn’t want to check in with her. Not yet. Every time he swung next to her, he felt like he was in the way, like he didn’t belong. She was Spider-Woman. She had been doing this for years, saving the city, and making a name for herself. He was just... there.
His phone buzzed. A message from Gwen lit up the screen.
“You out there? Haven’t heard from you in a while.”
Y/n stared at the text, thumb hovering over the screen, debating whether to respond. He wasn’t ready for her questions. Wasn’t ready for her to see just how out of sync he felt.
Instead of replying, he pocketed the phone and pushed off the bridge, firing a web at the nearest building. He shot across the city, his movements sharp, almost reckless. The city was quieter than usual, but Y/n’s spider-sense tingled as he landed on a rooftop overlooking a back alley. Two men were breaking into a shop, their movements quick and practiced. He sprang into action without hesitation.
Within minutes, both men were webbed up, dangling from a streetlamp as Y/n crouched on the roof above, catching his breath. The satisfaction of the takedown was fleeting, the familiar feeling of inadequacy creeping back in. This was nothing compared to what Gwen faced regularly—she was out there dealing with real threats, real villains.
‘Why can’t I be better?’ He thought bitterly.
Back at their shared apartment, Gwen was pacing. She had checked in with Y/n a few times already that night with no response. Her stomach churned with worry. This wasn’t new—Y/n had been avoiding her more and more lately, pushing himself on longer patrols, working himself to the bone. She could see how hard he was trying to keep up, but that wasn’t the point. It wasn’t a competition.
Gwen sighed, running a hand through her hair. She knew where this was coming from, this relentless drive to prove himself. Y/n admired her, and while she appreciated his dedication, it killed her to see him running himself ragged trying to be something he already was—enough.
Grabbing her mask, Gwen headed out. She wasn’t going to let him slip further into this spiral.
Y/n was midway through another swing when Gwen’s voice cut through his earpiece.
He winced. He had hoped to avoid this conversation. “On patrol,” he replied curtly.
“Where?” She pressed, her voice carrying that familiar edge of concern.
“Downtown. Near Tribeca,” He lied, knowing she would find him soon enough. She always did.
A moment of silence stretched between them before Gwen sighed. “You need to slow down. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”
“I’m fine,” Y/n snapped, his frustration slipping through. He landed on another rooftop, hands clenched into fists. “I’m just doing my part.”
“This isn’t about doing your part, Y/n/n. This is about you running yourself into the ground.”
Y/n clenched his jaw. “You don’t get it, Gwen. You’re better at this. You always have been.”
“That’s not true,” Gwen said, her voice softening. “We’re a team. You don’t have to compete with me.”
“I’m not competing with you,” Y/n muttered, though even as the words left his mouth, he knew they weren’t entirely true. He was competing—with her, with himself, with the idea that he wasn’t good enough.
“You are,” Gwen countered gently. “And you don’t have to. Y/n, you’re already enough. You don’t need to prove anything to me, or anyone.”
Y/n stared out over the city, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He wanted to believe her, wanted to believe that he didn’t need to keep up, but every time he saw her in action, he felt like he was falling short.
“I just... I feel like I’m always one step behind,” he admitted quietly. “You’re out there saving the world, and I’m barely keeping up.”
“You’re not behind,” Gwen said firmly. “You’re doing exactly what you need to be doing. You’re saving lives. You’re making a difference.”
Y/n’s shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”
Gwen landed beside him, pulling off her mask and offering a small, reassuring smile. “It is enough, Y/n/n. You don’t have to carry this on your own. We’re in this together. I’ve got your back, always.”
For a moment, the two stood in silence, the city’s hum filling the air around them. Y/n finally let out a long breath, the tension in his chest loosening.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “I’ll try to slow down.”
Gwen smiled and slung an arm over his shoulder. “Good. Now, let’s get home. I think we both deserve a break.”
As they swung through the city, side by side, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. Maybe he didn’t have to be perfect. Maybe being himself—just Y/n—was enough. And with Gwen by his side, he knew he didn’t have to face it all alone.
The apartment was unusually quiet when Y/n and Gwen got home. Normally, there’d be the sound of music playing from Gwen’s room, or the clatter of her making a late-night snack, but tonight, neither of them had much energy left. The exhaustion from their patrols, especially Y/n’s, had set in deeply, weighing down their bodies and minds.
Gwen dropped onto the couch, letting out a long sigh as she tossed her mask onto the coffee table. Y/n stood awkwardly in the doorway, still feeling the echoes of his earlier frustration. The conversation on the rooftop had lifted some of the weight off his shoulders, but there was still a knot of unease lodged deep inside. He didn’t know how to untangle it.
“You okay?” Gwen asked, glancing at him from her spot on the couch.
Y/n shrugged, moving toward the window. He couldn’t bring himself to sit down yet, his body still humming with the tension of the night. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Gwen raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but didn’t push further. She knew her brother well enough to give him space when he needed it. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready, but just... don’t shut me out, okay?”
Y/n nodded but didn’t turn around. He stared out over the city, the lights twinkling in the distance. The same city he’d been protecting all night, the same city Gwen had been protecting for so much longer.
It wasn’t that Y/n didn’t appreciate her support—he did. But there was this constant, nagging feeling deep inside him, telling him that no matter how hard he tried, he would never measure up. Not to her, not to the expectations he had placed on himself.
“You know,” Gwen said after a long moment, breaking the silence, “when I first started doing this—being Spider-Woman—it wasn’t easy.”
Y/n turned around, surprised. Gwen rarely talked about her early days as Spider-Woman, at least not in any real detail. He knew the broad strokes—how she had gained her powers, the struggles she faced—but she had never really opened up about the weight of it all.
“I didn’t know what I was doing half the time,” Gwen continued, her voice softer now, more thoughtful. “I was constantly second-guessing myself. Every decision felt like life or death, and sometimes... sometimes I made the wrong call.”
Y/n frowned, stepping closer. “But you always seemed like you had it together.”
Gwen gave a small, humorless laugh. “That’s because I got good at hiding it. At pretending. But trust me, there were plenty of nights where I felt just like you—like I wasn’t good enough. Like I wasn’t worthy of being a hero.”
Y/n stared at her, his mind racing. It was hard to imagine Gwen, confident and capable Gwen, ever feeling anything like he did. But the sincerity in her voice made it clear she wasn’t just saying this to make him feel better.
“I know you’re struggling, Y/n/n,” she said, her gaze meeting his. “And I know it feels like you’re never going to measure up. But you don’t have to. You don’t have to be me. You don’t have to live up to some impossible standard.”
Y/n let out a slow breath, finally sinking into the armchair across from her. He ran a hand through his messy hair, the weight of the night starting to catch up to him. “I just... I see everything you do, and it feels like no matter how hard I push myself, I’ll never get there. I’ll never be... enough.”
Gwen leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You’re enough, Y/n/n, You’ve always been enough. I know it’s hard to believe, but being a hero isn’t about being perfect. It’s about doing your best, even when you’re scared or unsure. It’s about getting back up when you fall, and knowing that you’re making a difference, even if it doesn’t always feel like it.”
Y/n bit his lip, the knot in his chest loosening a little more. “But what if I mess up? What if I make the wrong choice?”
“You will,” Gwen said simply, her tone firm but not unkind. “We all do. But that’s part of the job. You learn, you grow, and you keep going. And you don’t have to do it alone. I’m always going to be here, Ri. We’re in this together.”
Y/n looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the sincerity in her eyes. It wasn’t pity or condescension—Gwen wasn’t trying to downplay his feelings. She was just telling him the truth.
“I guess I’m just... scared,” he admitted quietly, the vulnerability in his voice surprising even himself.
Gwen stood and crossed the room to sit beside him, draping an arm around his shoulders. “You don’t have to be scared alone. We’re both in this, and I’ll always have your back.”
For the first time in a long while, Y/n let himself relax, leaning into her comforting presence. He wasn’t alone. He never had been.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows, and for once, Y/n hadn’t woken up with the weight of the world pressing on his chest. He and Gwen had stayed up talking late into the night, sharing stories, fears, and moments they had never really discussed before. For the first time in weeks, he didn’t feel like he was drowning in expectations.
Still, that nagging feeling lingered. It wasn’t something that could be fixed overnight.
Y/n slipped into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Gwen was already up, sitting at the small dining table, flipping through her phone. She looked up and smiled when she saw him. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Y/n mumbled, grabbing a bowl of cereal. “You heading out early today?”
Gwen shrugged. “I figured we could go out together. Maybe take it easy, and swing by some quieter areas. What do you think?”
Y/n hesitated the familiar urge to dive into his patrol rising. But then he remembered the conversation from the night before, how Gwen had opened up to him, how she had reminded him they were in this together.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I think that sounds good.”
Gwen grinned, standing up and tossing him his mask. “Let’s go save the city.”
As they headed out into the bright morning, side by side, Y/n still felt the weight of his insecurities. But this time, it didn’t feel quite so heavy. With Gwen by his side, he wasn’t in the shadow of Spider-Woman anymore. He was Y/n Stacey—his person, his hero. And that, he realized, was more than enough.
Y/n Stacey sat on the fire escape of their apartment, staring out into the city. The late afternoon sun bathed the skyline in gold, casting long shadows over the streets below. He absentmindedly spun a web between his fingers, the events of the day replaying in his head.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Mary-Jane Watson. The girl he’d saved earlier that afternoon.
It had been a standard patrol at first, nothing too out of the ordinary. A car chase had broken out, and he’d swung into action, webbing up the criminals before they could escape. But when one of the getaway drivers had lost control and veered toward a crowded crosswalk, Y/n had dived in to save a redhead in the path of the oncoming car.
She had looked up at him with the brightest green eyes, flashing a smile that nearly knocked the air out of his lungs.
“Thanks for the rescue, Spider-Boy,” she had teased, her voice full of playful warmth.
It was such a small interaction—just another save in the grand scheme of things. But something about the way she smiled at him, the way she had called him “Spider-Boy,” made him feel like his brain short-circuited. He had managed to mumble something awkward and swing off before he could embarrass himself further.
Now, hours later, he was still thinking about her.
“I know that look,” came Gwen’s voice from behind him, snapping him out of his thoughts.
Y/n turned to see his sister leaning against the window, a knowing grin spreading across her face. She hopped onto the fire escape, sitting beside him and nudging his shoulder.
“What look?” Y/n tried to play it off, but his voice cracked slightly, and Gwen’s grin only widened.
“The look that says, ‘‘I’ve got a crush,’ Gwen teased, folding her arms as she leaned back against the railing. “Spill it.”
Y/n felt his face heat up, and he quickly turned away, hoping Gwen wouldn’t notice the flush creeping up his neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, Y/n/n, I’ve known you my whole life. You’ve been distracted since you got back from patrol. And you haven’t even been practicing your web-shooting like you normally do when you’re stressed. So... who is it?”
Y/n groaned, running a hand through his hair. There was no escaping this—Gwen was like a spider sleuth when it came to picking up on his moods. “It’s no one. Just someone I... saved.”
Gwen raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued. “Someone you saved, huh? Was she cute?”
Y/n shot her a glare, but his blush gave him away. “Gwen.”
“Oh my God, she was cute.” Gwen’s grin turned into a full-blown smile, and she nudged him again. “You totally have a crush on her, don’t you?”
Y/n buried his face in his hands, groaning again. “It’s not a crush. I just... I saved her, that’s all. It’s no big deal.”
Gwen crossed her arms and leaned forward, watching him intently. “Okay, okay, sure. So what’s her name?”
Y/n hesitated for a second, but he knew there was no point in hiding it anymore. “Mary Jane.”
Gwen blinked. “Mary Jane Watson?”
Y/n frowned. “You know her?”
Gwen nodded, her smile growing mischievous. “Oh, I know her. She’s in my theater class at school. She’s amazing. Total life-of-the-party type. Super confident, and always has a witty comeback. No wonder you’re crushing hard.”
Y/n let out a frustrated groan. “I’m not crushing on her.”
Gwen waved her hand dismissively. “Right, right, because saving a beautiful girl and thinking about her for hours afterward is just everyday Spider-Boy stuff.”
“Spider-Man,” Y/n corrected, his tone a little sharper than he intended.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Spider-Man,” Gwen laughed, clearly enjoying this. “You should’ve seen your face. You looked like a deer in headlights when she called you ‘Spider-Boy.’ What, did you swoop down all heroic-like and catch her in your arms?”
Y/n rubbed the back of his neck, knowing that anything he said would only make Gwen tease him more. “Kind of.”
Gwen’s eyes widened, and she clutched her stomach, laughing even harder. “No way. Oh my God, that’s priceless. Did she give you her number? Ask you out on a date?”
“No!” Y/n shot back, more embarrassed than ever. “I—I didn’t stay long enough for any of that. I just made sure she was okay and left. Besides, I don’t think she’s into, y’know, spider people.”
Gwen calmed down from her laughter, giving him a more sympathetic look. “Trust me, Y/n/n, She’s into you. Mary Jane doesn’t just smile at anyone like that.”
Y/n shook his head, trying to downplay it. “It’s not a big deal, Gwen. She probably just thought it was cool to be saved by Spider-Man. She won’t even remember me tomorrow.”
“Uh-huh,” Gwen said, unconvinced. “Well, if you’re so sure about that, maybe you won’t mind if I mention you to her the next time we’re in class?”
Y/n froze, his eyes widening in horror. “Don’t you dare!”
Gwen’s grin turned wicked. “Too late. I think she’d love to hear about her knight in shining spandex.”
Y/n groaned, burying his face in his hands again. “Gwen, please.”
“I’m just kidding!” Gwen said, though there was still a playful glint in her eyes. “Relax. I won’t say anything—yet. But if you keep mooning over her, I might have to step in and be your wingwoman.”
“I am not mooning over her,” Y/n muttered, though he knew his protests were falling on deaf ears.
Gwen gave him a teasing shove. “Sure, sure. But for real, Y/n/n, it’s okay to have a crush. Just... don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re allowed to like someone. It doesn’t make you any less of a hero.”
Y/n sighed, leaning back against the fire escape. “I know. It’s just... weird. I don’t even know her, and yet...”
“Yet, you’re already smitten,” Gwen finished with a knowing smile. “Trust me, it happens to the best of us. Just take it slow. Maybe you’ll run into her again. You could ask her out.”
“Yeah, right,” Y/n scoffed. “What would I even say? ‘Hey, remember me? The awkward guy who saved you from getting hit by a car?’”
“Exactly,” Gwen said, giving him a thumbs-up. “Girls love confidence.”
Y/n shook his head, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re in love,” Gwen teased, standing up and ruffling his hair. “But don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me—for now.”
Y/n watched as she climbed back through the window, her laughter echoing in the air. Despite the embarrassment, he couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. Maybe Gwen was right—maybe it wasn’t so bad to have a crush.
As the sun set and the city began to glow with evening lights, Y/n let his thoughts drift back to Mary Jane Watson. He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again, but the idea of running into her—maybe, just maybe—didn’t seem so impossible after all.
