a bae thing

Unfinished Zevran scribble, three years post Blight.

Me Against You

( Request: Reader and Spiderman being on opposite sides in Civil War.

PART 2, PART 3

A/N: This is my first time writing for Peter Parker, and I hope I’ve done this request justice!!  Feel free to send in more requests about this cutie pie!!  Please don’t post this elsewhere without my permission!! 


“Keep going, (Y/N)!” Sam hollers. “Get to the jet!”

You hunker down behind a bench. From your vantage point, you can see Spiderman kicking Sam and Bucky into a pane of safety glass. You duck your head to shield your eyes, so you don’t actually see the windows explode. But you hear it. You feel it, too. Those little shards of glass hurt as they pelt onto bare arms and legs.

You wish you’d thought to wear jeans.

“Go!”

You go. You rise from behind your cover and sprint. Coach would be so proud, if he could see you now.

“Your, mission, should you choose to accept it, is to get through enemy territory, and hijack their jet.”  So Captain America hadn’t said it in those words exactly, but the point he’d been trying to get across was essentially the same. Bucky and Sam would keep you from having to engage anybody, leaving you free to slip over to the Hangar and get the jet prepped and ready to go. You would have loved to pilot a jet – say, maybe, after about ten years of lessons, not after some hastily given instructions from ex-Agent Barton – and had told Captain America as much. You only had a learner’s permit for driving a car, not some fancy, high-tech jet, but he was adamant on having you as the getaway driver.

And, if you were being honest, having Captain America relying on you for help was pretty darn awesome.

“Behind you!”

Bucky’s warning comes too late. As you run onward and duck into a hallway, spandex-covered arms embrace you from behind – one around your shoulders, one around your waist. You put on an extra spurt of speed. The hands latch on. A shrill scream splits the air. It sounds like you. But it’s a futile effort – Sam and Bucky are securely trussed up, sticky webbing keeping them pinned to the floor. Even if they wanted to help, they couldn’t.

Let me go!” You demand, twisting and kicking. “Let me go right this instant!”

Inexplicably, the arms around you slacken; drop gracelessly back to their owner’s sides. You scramble away, with wide and frightened eyes, until the small of your back hits the concrete wall.  

(Y/n)?” You stiffen. Oh, no. Please, no. The voice, though woolly and quiet, is thoroughly familiar to you, from years of studying with him, talking to him, being friends with him. “Oh, God. Oh, God, why are you here? (Y/n), you shouldn’t be here.”

“Peter?” You blurt out. “Peter, is that you?”

“I – I’m not –” He’s nervously tripping over his words, trying to come up with a suitable lie. “I’m Spiderman, not –”

Your lips twist up in a sad smile. “You’re a rotten liar, Peter.”

And this time, he doesn’t try to deny it.

The two of you had been best friends ever since the second grade, when your nanny had forgotten to pack your lunch one day, and Peter had given you half of his tuna and mayo sandwich. You’d shared every day, every moment … Every secret.

However, it would appear, not every  secret.

“So … Spiderman, huh?” You manage, letting out a watery laugh that doesn’t hold any real humor in it. Spiderman might have saved you once, but this side of Peter is new and entirely foreign, much like the new and shiny suit that he’s sporting. “You’ve – You’ve really been busy, huh?”

You wonder when Peter was going to tell you; or if he was even planning to. Ever since Uncle Ben had passed, Peter had been acting strange: Showing up to school bruised and bloodied, cancelling days out together with only the flimsiest of excuses, showing up late to the appointments he did agree to go for …

And now you finally, finally know why.

“I-I’m sorry, (Y/n),” Peter says miserably. Even under the mask, you know that his forehead is creased and puckered up, warm chocolate eyes downcast. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t – There was never a good time.”

Of course not.

“So what you’re really saying is: You don’t trust me.” It bursts out of you. You’ll admit there’s a sour surge of satisfaction when Peter recoils, even though you haven’t raised a hand to him. It comes out again, louder this time. “That’s what it all boils down to, doesn’t it? I thought we were friends. I trusted you. I told you everything – the boys I liked, the crushes I had. I thought –”

Me?” Peter’s glumness turns into irritation, and you realise your mistake. “I’m not the only one keeping secrets! You didn’t tell me that you’d be running around with Captain America and a bunch of –”

- Criminals. He doesn’t say it, but you know that’s what he means. The word hits you like a ton of bricks. You stare at Peter, not moving, not even blinking. A day ago, that wouldn’t have meant you. A day ago, you and Peter would have been in school. A day ago, the two of you would have still been friends.

When you had accepted Captain America’s request for help, you didn’t think that you’d have to face off with your best friend in the process.

(Y/n), I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean –”

He’s cracked something in you wide open. You stride away from the boy you once knew, but you can’t leave yet.

“Fine,”  You say, infusing the word with venom. “Then arrest me. Take me in. I’m just a criminal, right?”

Your voice rises in octaves, building up to a high crescendo. Your anger rises up, blooming in your chest like a poisonous flower, and you focus on that, since it chases away the chill that permeates deep into your bones. Blind now with a mingled combination of hurt and anger, your hand lashes its way through the air in a flicking motion, forcing the powers sleeping deep inside you to the surface. Even though Peter’s standing motionless at least six feet away, he’s shoved up into the air by an invisible force, slamming into the window behind you hard enough to crush bones. He flies out the window with a shriek.

You turn away from the remnants of shattered glass and a broken friendship, gloom already gathering atop your shoulders to weigh you down. In another life, you might have been fighting by his side, the two of you working together as Avengers. Now you’ve become public enemy number one.

Criminal, criminal. Your mind chants it over and over again, in a sing-song, lilting voice, matching each syllable with your racing pulse. I’m a criminal.

Reasons why you should watch WolfBlood

Not only does it have wolves

But wolves that can have fun with it and act like puppies

It has…

Fierce girls

And shy girls

Girls that do well in school

And girls that don’t do well in school

Sporty boys

And artistic boys

Boys with tempers

And supportive boys

Girl friendships

And boy friendships

And girls and boys being friends with each other

Girls being protective of boys

And girls being protective of girls

Boys being protective of girls

And boys being protective of boys

Girls being emotionally vulnerable with boys

And boys being emotionally vulnerable with girls

Girls being emotionally vulnerable with girls

And boys being emotionally vulnerable with boys

Girls talking about their problems with other girls

And girls talking about their problems with boys

Boys talking about their problems with other boys

And boys talking about their problems with girls

A lot of physical affection

Boys having female friends, despite their crush’s jealousy, without it interfering with their relationship with their crush

Girls that can be friends with their rivals

Girls that are not responsible for the feelings of their guy friends

Teenagers that act like teenagers regardless of how mature they are otherwise

Teachers that care about the emotional and physical well-being of their students

… And that actually do things to support that duty of care

It has great relationships and an awesome ensemble. I absolutely adore the canon romances. It is very worth checking out.