Marvel One-Shots

Mother Spider

Prompt Credit: welivefortayvis
–———————

Natasha Romanoff was many things: a former assassin, an Avenger, and someone who could end a man's life with a flick of her wrist. But there was one thing she never expected to be: a mother figure to Peter Parker.

And yet, here they were.

Peter sat in the kitchen of the Avengers Tower, watching as Natasha sliced an apple with terrifying precision. He had a habit of hanging around her, probably because, in his own words, she was "badass and like a cool adult."

But lately, Natasha had noticed something else—a certain level of dependence that was slowly evolving into what she could only describe as a weird mix of hero worship and motherly reliance.

"Peter," Natasha said, not looking up from the apple, "How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me when I'm in the kitchen?"

Peter grinned sheepishly. "Uh... only like twelve times?"

"It's fifteen," she corrected, "Not that I'm counting."

He leaned back in his chair, looking around the kitchen as if expecting someone to save him from this lecture.

"I was just checking if you needed help. You know, superhero stuff. I could, like, swing around and grab you some more apples if you want. Faster than a grocery delivery."

Natasha rolled her eyes, slicing the apple in half with one swift motion. "Peter, I don't need you to be my personal errand boy. I'm capable of getting my own apples."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off with a glare. He immediately closed it, nodding.

"Right. Of course. You're Black Widow. You can do anything."

"And don't you forget it," she muttered, tossing a slice of apple his way. "But since you're offering... I could use some help with something."

Peter perked up immediately. "Really? Anything! Just name it!"

She smirked, setting the knife down and turning toward him with that dangerous gleam in her eye. "I need you to stop getting yourself into situations that require me to rescue you."

Peter blinked. "I don't need rescuing!"

"Really?" Natasha raised an eyebrow. "How about that time with the malfunctioning web-shooters? Or the bank robbery where you got stuck under that pile of debris? Or that... what was it... rogue squirrel in Central Park?"

Peter flushed red. "Okay, that squirrel was intense. You weren't there, you didn't see the way it looked at me. But I had everything under control."

She placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning down so her face was level with his. "Peter, you webbed yourself to a tree."

"It was tactical!" Peter protested, squirming under her gaze.

"Tactical or not," Natasha said, grabbing another apple slice and taking a bite, "you need to start thinking before jumping headfirst into every situation. You're not indestructible."

Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat, muttering under his breath, "I know that."

"And stop muttering," Natasha added without missing a beat. "It's rude."

"Yes, Mom," Peter replied sarcastically.

She paused, one eyebrow arched, before slowly standing back up and crossing her arms. "What did you just say?"

Peter's eyes widened in panic. "Oh no, no! I didn't mean—"

Natasha smirked. "Oh, so now I'm 'Mom,' huh? Maybe I should start grounding you when you come back with rips in your suit. Or take away your web-shooters when you miss curfew."

Peter groaned, slumping in his chair. "I don't have a curfew!"

"You will if you keep acting like a kid," Natasha teased, enjoying the sight of him squirming.

She ruffled his hair as she walked past, causing him to groan again and try to fix the mess she'd made.

"Man," Peter mumbled, "I get enough of this from May."

Natasha smirked over her shoulder. "Well, maybe you should listen to your 'mom' more often then."

Just as Peter was about to respond, Tony Stark walked into the kitchen, looking at the pair with mild amusement.

"What's going on here? Family therapy session?"

Natasha grinned. "Just teaching the kid some manners."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Kid? Since when are you the maternal type, Romanoff?"

Peter pointed at Natasha accusingly. "She's calling herself my mom now! Can you believe this?"

Tony chuckled, leaning against the counter. "Hey, if anyone's the mom of this team, it's Natasha. I'm more like the cool uncle."

Peter shook his head. "I don't need an army of parents, guys."

Natasha threw another apple slice at him. "You need something to keep you in line."

Peter caught it with a web, then took a bite. "Yeah, well... thanks, Mom."

Natasha just shook her head, unable to hide her smile. Maybe being a mother figure wasn't the worst thing in the world.

Besides, someone had to keep Peter Parker from getting himself killed. And if that meant teasing him relentlessly while also keeping him alive... she could handle that.

"Now finish your apple," Natasha said, pointing to the slice in his hand. "You've got training with me in an hour."

Peter groaned but complied, stuffing the rest of the apple in his mouth. "Yes, Mom."

Natasha smirked, feeling oddly proud. Maybe this whole 'mother figure' thing wasn’t so bad after all.