Our Friendly Big-Dicked Web Slinger

Black Widow (Natasha Romanova)

As he swings through the air, Peter Parker finds himself conflicted. Clad in his costume, he’s currently not Peter at all, but rather the ‘Amazing Spider-Man’. Only, even with the mask on, he’ll always be Peter Parker beneath it, and he can’t escape Peter Parker’s problems by hiding behind it. Especially when those problems are partially due to being Spider-Man.
 
A low sigh escapes from the web-slinger’s mouth as he continues to make his way across New York’s nighttime skyline. At this point, flinging himself at high speeds from skyscraper to skyscraper is like second nature to the wall-crawler, and he knows his city like the back of his hand. He has been doing this hero thing for years now after all.
 
And that’s where the problem stems from, in the end. Six months ago, Mary Jane Watson had made him the happiest man alive when she’d married him in a nice quiet wedding attended only by his Aunt May and a couple of their closest friends. Peter had been thrilled to finally tie the knot with the woman he loved more than anything. Only, that love was already being tested and Peter just wasn’t sure what to do about it.
 
It’d started a couple months ago, maybe three at most. He’d come home from a fight with the Lizard looking a bit battered. Honestly, it hadn’t been THAT bad. Thanks to his minor healing factor, Peter was confident that his bruised ribs and his fractured arm would be well on the way to recovered by the morning.
 
Unfortunately, he’d been more than a little bloody, and the claw marks that had gone through his suit had not left MJ happy with him. Plus, he’d had to fight the damn villain in the sewers, so of course he’d smelt like shit on top of everything else. His darling wife had taken out the first aid kit and helped him patch himself up. Then, after all was said and done and he’d been laying in bed with her cuddled into his side, his good arm wrapped around her… she’d said it.
 
She’d told him that she didn’t want him to be Spider-Man anymore, and Peter honestly hadn’t known what to say. It was just a little… cowardly of him, but in the end the web slinger had pretended to be asleep that night, doing a bang-up job of dozing, until eventually MJ had just let out a little sigh and nestled in to his side a bit further before falling asleep herself.
 
Peter had hoped that would be the end of it, but no, the next day it’d come up again. His gorgeous, vivacious wife had walked into their room with breakfast in hand as he’d slowly woken up. She’d fed him directly, even though he still had one good working hand, and then she’d dropped the bombshell on him while he was still groggy and trying to clear his mind and focus past the dull ache spread across his entire body.
 
She’d said it outright, that she wanted him to stop being Spider-Man, that she wanted him to stop with the heroics altogether. She wanted him to hang up the tights so to speak. Peter still hadn’t known what to say, and in the end, they’d had an argument that day that had created a divide between them. The next night, he’d been well enough to get back out there, and so he had, putting on the costume in direct defiance of his wife’s desires. He’d gone out to fight crime that night, and when he’d got home he found MJ asleep. She hadn’t waited up for him.
 
Since that time, things had only gotten worse. Peter loved his wife with all his heart, and he knew Mary Jane loved him back, else she wouldn’t be so worried about him. But she just didn’t understand. There weren’t many others who could do what he did. There were even less that DID what he did in the first place. Ultimately, Peter knew that Spider-Man was needed, and so long as he was needed, he couldn’t stop. He just couldn’t.

 
Unfortunately, this line of reasoning had not swayed his spouse. No, their arguments had gotten worse and worse, until finally they’d had a huge blow up fight that ended with him leaving their small apartment over an hour early. Peter figured it didn’t matter much. After all, he was meeting with a SHIELD Agent. He figured that the Black Widow of all people would appreciate him getting there ahead of schedule.
 
Hanging in midair for a second, Peter realizes he’s just about to miss his turn. His hand comes up and a string of web fluid flies out of his shooter, striking against the corner of a nearby brick building as he swings himself around. It’s a bit more air pressure than his body is used to, but Peter can handle it, and in the end he completes the last second turn with room to spare. Swinging further down the street for a few minutes, He sees a window up ahead with the light on but the blinds drawn.
 
The thing that catches his eye however, is the paper cut out of his mask taped to the inside of the window, plastered in front of the blinds. The things are like, five cents down at the flea market, and he’s seen plenty before… but tonight it’s also the signal to show him which window to come through, so after making sure no one else has the paper Spider-Man mask taped to THEIR window on the building before him, the web-crawler launches himself over and lands lightly on his fingertips and his toes against the glass.
 
He pulls at the bottom of the window and finds it unlocked, and a moment later he’s tumbling in under the blinds as he slides it open. Coming to a stop in a crouch, the wall-crawler looks about and immediately sees a familiar head of red hair as Natasha Romanova, aka the Black Widow, spins around in her computer chair, looking away from whatever she was reading on the monitor before her.
 
… Peter slowly straightens up as he very carefully tries not to stare, and ultimately fails. Honestly though, he’d never seen the beautiful woman in anything but her skintight cat suit before, and while that was certainly a gorgeous piece of attire that afforded the super spy all sorts of range of motion, there was something about her wearing nothing but a tank top and a pair of shorts that had Peter salivating, inappropriately enough.
 
He feels the sudden need to avert his gaze, like he’s seeing something that he shouldn’t be, even if her actual assets are less distinct here, then they are when she’s wearing the skintight body suit.
 
“You’re early, Parker.”
 
Coughing into his hand through his mask, the young man fidgets from side to side.
 
“Yeah, uh… yeah. Thought I’d make sure I was punctual. Or something.”
 
Natasha is staring at him with a piercing gaze that makes him feel even more insecure than usual. The Black Widow doesn’t need her uniform to be menacing, as it turns out. She can manage an unnerving stare in nothing but a tank top and shorts if she really wants to. As he squirms under that look, Peter wonders just what the hell is running through the super spy’s mind.
 
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