sporadic | avengers

TEN / when black widow had a fear of spiders

"natasha?" peter bellowed throughout the flat.

"what?" she called back.

"come to the kitchen," he sat on the breakfast bar. his tarantula played between his fingers. natasha came down the stairs and when she got a view of what he was holding, she backed up against the back of the couch.

her hand scurried for the magazine on the cushion and she cocked the folded paper up like a baseball bat.

"what the hell is that?" she was white as a sheet and her knuckles looked pasty.

"his name's winfred," peter smiled at the furry creature. the creature paused in peter's hands. it seemed to be looking at her. she shivered. "i think he likes you." peter stood.

"the feeling is far from mutual," she held her weapon up. "i'll kill it peter, don't you think i won't!"

"you're scaring him," peter whined. he looked at her. peter held his hand out, and winfred sat casually in it.

winfred seemed to be mocking her.

"go ahead, pet him. come on. he won't hurt you unless you hurt him," peter urged her on.

natasha tucked the magazine into her butt pocket. she watched winfred. winfred watched her. she cupped her hands and stuck them out reluctantly.

the same woman who took down hydra spies, sokovian robots, and an evil god from asgard, was afraid of spiders.

peter dumped winfred in her hands.

"i'm going to shower!" he called out and left her.

"peter! peter!!" she yelled, petrified to move. "i hate you!"

"love ya too, natty."

she scowled at the creature in her hands. winfred looked at her, decided she was alright, and began to crawl around. winfred strode between natasha's fingers. he even dared up her arms.

she would've stopped him if she could bare it. for now, she was completely and terribly terrified.

she soon realized that winfred meant her no harm. winfred simply wanted to explore natasha. he wandered her, not because she was scared anymore, but because she didn't mind.

she was sitting on the couch, reading the weaponized magazine with winfred on her shoulder, as if he were reading too.

peter walked in, still toweling off his hair. he almost stumbled from shock.

"how's winfred doing?"

"winnie's great."

"winnie?"

"winnie."