Natasha x reader x Wanda
Notes; Trigger Warnings. Past rape. Sexual harassment. Skip fucking Westcott. Panic attacks.
You and your brother had a thing called 'Parker Luck.' Parker luck struck whenever and didn't care who got hurt or what it ruined. Parker luck had killed Mary, and Richard Parker, had stolen Uncle Ben, almost killed Peter, and tried to destroy you, your brother, and your Aunt's lives.
But the three of you were strong and so far had beaten the Parker luck. May, ever the optimist, liked to point out that the results of Parker luck weren't all bad.
May had gotten to raise you and Peter, something she said she was incredibly proud of. Peter had joined the Avengers and worked alongside his heroes. And because of Peter, you were able to meet Natasha and Wanda, your partners of three years.
Being with the two was the most natural thing, and the best decision, in your life.
About a year ago, the three of you had made the decision to move in together. You were all together at the Tower, and life was great because you were surrounded by those you loved.
You felt happy about where you were in life. Until Parker luck had to strike again.
"I'm going to pick up our dresses," Natasha told you, picking up her keys.
"You know you two don't have to come to this, right?" You asked, pulling your hair up. "It's just a gala."
"A gala where your work will be displayed. We want to support you." Natasha said, kissing your cheek. "Let us be the proud girlfriends and brag about you to anyone who'll listen."
"You already do that." You pointed out with a smile.
"Well, we're going to keep doing it." Natasha shrugged. "I'll be back in an hour. I'll pick Wanda up on my way." She told you.
"Okay, be careful." You said, standing to kiss the woman. "And give Wanda this from me." You added, kissing her again.
"Will do. Love you, dorogoy." Natasha said, giving you a soft smile.
"Love you too, Natty."
After Natasha left, you moved into your 'office.' It wasn't a traditional office, technically it was an art studio, but it was your space. A space where you could usually forget everything and everyone bothering you.
But not today.
'I miss you, sweet girl.'
The words seem to jump off the screen as your heart stutters. You were suddenly sixteen years old again, and you couldn't breathe.
'You and my little Einstein. The two of you look so beautiful.'
Bile rose in your throat at that one.
'I want to see at least one of you again. Should I see if I can find Peter?'
You were going to be sick. You were so sure you were going to be violently ill.
Skip fucking Westcott. The perverted bastard had seemed to have vanished off the face of the Earth nine years ago. You thought he was out of yours and Peter's lives for good. You'd prayed to anyone who would listen that he was gone for good.
Damn Parker luck.
'Don't you dare go fucking near him.' You typed back.
'What's to say I already haven't?'
You dropped the phone to the ground as you leaned against the wall.
"Miss Parker, you seem to be experiencing some distress. Should I alert someone?" JARVIS asked you.
"No. No, thank you, JARVIS." You breathed heavily, forcing yourself to calm down. "I'm fine, thank you for your concern."
"Of course."
"Is Pete in the building?" You asked. "Is he okay?"
"Peter Parker is currently in the lab with boss, his vital signs are well within the normal range. Would you like me to alert him you're looking for him?"
"No, thank you, JARVIS." You sighed, sliding down the wall.
You didn't know what to do. You couldn't tell Nat or Wanda, and you didn't want to scare Peter if Skip hadn't contacted him.
No-one could know, you decided. No-one could ever be told the shame you felt.
"Agent Romanoff would like me to inform you she and Miss Maximoff will arrive in ten minutes," JARVIS said, drawing you out of your head.
Natasha and Wanda could never know, ever, you reminded yourself. You pulled yourself from the floor, took a deep breath, made yourself look presentable, and forced the memories to the back of your mind.
They didn't need to know.
Skip hadn't stopped. Skip hadn't left you alone. Skip had continued, messaging and calling to the point you barely turned your phone on.
You blocked the first number, thinking you were incredibly smart, but he'd just got a new number.
And he did it every time you blocked him.
You’d been keeping a closer eye on Peter, you’d called May for check-ins every night now. You’d been watching, waiting, for any changes in his behavior, to see if Skip would contact him.
So far it seemed as if he was leaving your brother alone.
"I'm going to get going now, zaika," Wanda announced, entering the kitchen in her yoga attire.
She and Bruce attended a yoga class every Wednesday, and you loved seeing her walk around with her high pony and in her yoga clothes.
"Here, hon." You smiled, handing her two thermoses. "Yours is the yellow one, and I've put green tea in Bruce's."
"Have I said I love you today?" Wanda asked before kissing you.
"Not yet."
"I love you." Wanda grinned cheesily.
"I love you too. Now go, Bruce is waiting for you." You laughed, pushing her towards the elevator.
"Yes, ma'am. I'll be back soon. Love you!" She rushed out her sentence as the doors closed.
With Wanda gone and Natasha in the gym with Clint, you let the smile fall off your face.
On the counter behind you, was a bomb. Not a literal one, though right now you would prefer it, a figurative bomb.
On the counter behind you, sat a letter.
A handwritten letter. A handwritten letter, with a small red heart drawn onto the envelope. And you immediately recognized the scrawl that had written your name.
Squaring your shoulders, you picked up the letter opener and moved back to the bomb.
The envelope felt dirty. It felt disgusting in your hands as you cut it open.
Out fell two newspaper clippings and a card.
The clippings were of you, Natasha, and Wanda at the gala. The three of you were smiling in both pictures, and you had their arms wrapped around you.
'Look at how they wrap their arms around you, whore. Would they look at you like that if they knew who you were?'
Was written onto the back in black sharpie.
Ignoring your shaking hands, you picked up the card on the table. It was your business card.
'Check your email.'
Your phone was immediately in your hand, and you rushed to open your inbox. There were several business inquiries, and the sixth email was labeled, 'Whore.'
You swallowed harshly before opening the email and felt your breathing hitch as you saw the attachments.
Photos of you. But they weren't recent, they from nine years ago. Your phone fell to the floor with a clatter, and you rushed to sink.
The contents of your stomach emerged from your lips, the acidic smell causing you to gag again.
It took several minutes before you were finished. Your eyes and throat burned, your stomach hurt, and your head was pounding.
You felt disgusting. You needed to get clean.
You were in the shower for an hour. Your skin was raw, your eyes stung, and you were exhausted. Emotionally and physically.
When Natasha came into the bedroom, you were in half-asleep in the bed. You had forced yourself off the shower floor and crawled onto the mattress.
"You not feeling well, dorogoy?" Natasha asked, laying beside you. You didn't have the energy to respond, so you only grunted. "Go to sleep, dorogoy. Everything will be better when you wake up."
But it wouldn't. It would never be better.
"This was a fantastic idea." You sighed, taking a long drink of the raspberry mimosa. "I'm so glad you talked me into this."
"I'm glad we got Wanda to not come in her pajamas," Natasha smirked.
"I like my pajama pants," Wanda whined, cutting into her waffles. "They're silk."
"We're in public, hon. And those pants leave little to the imagination." You reminded her with a smile. You felt lighter than you had in weeks.
"I'm an Avenger. I save the world, I should get to wear whatever I want." Wanda reasoned.
"Unfortunately, it's illegal to walk around nude," Natasha said, rolling her eyes fondly as you giggled.
Wanda and Natasha both stared at you and smiled brightly at you.
"What?" You asked, raising a hand to your face. "Do I have something on me?"
"No, you're perfect," Wanda assured you, taking your hand.
"We just haven't seen you this relaxed in a while," Natasha said, looking at you and Wanda with a soft look.
"I'm sorry. I've just been so distracted lately." You said, looking down.
"It's nothing to worry about," Wanda promised, raising your chin with a finger. "It's just not a state we want to see you in."
"Maybe you should take a step back from work. Give yourself a week's break, and we could go on a trip." Natasha suggested.
"That sounds really good." You smiled shakily. "I'll be right back. I need to use the restroom." You said, standing from your seat.
Guilt coursed through you as you locked yourself in a bathroom stall. They’d noticed. They’d noticed what a mess you were.
You couldn’t continue being a burden to them. You needed to be better. Happier.
You took several deep breaths before you decided to rejoin your girlfriends. You’d opened the stall and froze at what stood before you.
“Hi, sweet girl.” Skip smirked, leaning against the sink. “Miss me?”
“This is the ladies room. You need to leave.” You stuttered.
“Don’t say that. I just wanted to see my girl.” Skip said, pushing off the sink and moving towards you.
“I’m not your girl.” You told him. “I have never been your girl.”
“We both know that’s not true.” Skip chuckled. “There was a time you were mine.”
“You raped me.” You spat out. “You raped my brother. You ruined our lives.”
“You and Petey used to be so sweet. I don’t know what happened to you.”
“You did.” You stated, shuffling along the wall. You tried to rush for the door only to be stopped by Skip holding it closed.
“What’s your rush, sweetheart?” Skip asked as you backed away into the wall behind you. You gasped as your back hit the tiled wall and Skip’s body suddenly caged you in. “We’re just getting started.”
Your mind went blank as Skip’s hands were on your body. You were suddenly sixteen again and you were too scared to move.
“Hey!”
The door slammed open.
His hands left you.
You slumped to the floor.
You couldn’t breathe.
“Zaika, breathe. You need to breathe for me. You’re okay, zaika.”
“You’re having a panic attack. You have to breathe for us, dorogoy. That man can’t hurt you.”
It took an eternity of coaxing before you were able to focus. To breathe. You were still on the bathroom floor, Skip had disappeared, and now Natasha and Wanda were kneeling before you.
“There you are.” Natasha smiled, holding her hands in front of her.
“Where is he?” You whispered, voice breaking.
“In avengers custody.” Wanda informed you. “The police wanted to take him but he said some things that made it clear he knew you. Steve came and took him.”
“Can we go home?” You asked, looking down.
“Of course.” Natasha said. “Can I touch you?” She asked, and you nodded. Natasha helped you stand and you slumped your head against her shoulder.
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Wanda said as the three of you drove home. “But we’re here for you, always.” She added.
You didn’t say anything, simply continued staring blankly out of the backseat window.
“He was our babysitter.” You announced.
It had been three hours since the incident. After returning to the Tower, you had locked yourself in the bathroom. You’d almost boiled yourself alive as you sat on the shower floor sobbing.
You didn’t come out for two hours, despite the water turning to ice long ago. But Natasha and Wanda had been there. They sat on the bed three of you shared, neither made a move or said a word until you crawled onto the bed between them.
None of you had said a word since. You laid there, silently crying, as Natasha and Wanda soothingly ran their fingers through your hair.
“He was our babysitter.” You repeated, fingers tracing the duvet pattern.
“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.” Wanda reminded you. “We won’t push you.”
“I have to.” You murmured. “I have to say it out loud.”
“Go as slow as you want.” Natasha said. “We’ll wait.”
“Pete was eight. I was sixteen. I found my girlfriend after she hung herself. I couldn’t sleep for months, so May got me a prescription for sleeping pills. They knocked me on my ass, it was impossible to wake me up.
I wasn’t in a good place to look after Pete. And Skip lived next door. He was twenty-five. I was always asleep when he came over. He was raping Pete in the room next to me for weeks, and I didn’t know.
I started getting better, not sleeping so much, but Skip still came over. It took him a week before he pinned me down. Pete and I were too scared to say anything to May or Ben.” You explained.
“How long did he,” Wanda began slowly. “You?” She asked, unable to say the word.
“Two months.” You whispered. “At least while I was awake. Apparently he did it while I was unconscious too.”
“Why didn’t he go to prison? Did you not report him?” Natasha asked.
“We did. His father paid people off and he was never charged. The whole family moved a day later.” You told them. “He’s been contacting me for a month.” You added after a second.
“What? Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I didn’t think you’d want me.” You said, beginning to cry again. “I’m filthy. I’m disgusting. I couldn’t stop him, I couldn’t protect Pete. I don’t want me. I should’ve tried harder, done better.” You listed, breathing becoming a struggle again.
“Zaika, you need to breathe. You’re going to send yourself into another panic attack.” Wanda soothed, pulling you closer.
Natasha and Wanda took their time to calm you, and continued whispering soothing words after you had calmed yourself.
“We always want you, dorogoy.” Natasha said, breaking the silence. “We’re never not going to want you.”
“You can’t blame yourself for what happened. No-one blames you. Peter doesn’t blame you. The only person that can be blamed is him.” Wanda added.
“I hate him. I hate him.” You said. “I hate Skip so much.”
“And you’re allowed. You’re allowed to hate him with everything you have.” Natasha told you.
“But you’re not allowed to hate yourself.” Wanda added.
“I’m tired.” You whispered, body sagging into the mattress. “I’m so tired.”
“Go to sleep, zaika.” Wanda murmured, pushing the hair off your face.
“We’ll be here when you wake up. We’ll always be here.” Natasha added, squeezing your hand.
Peter came to you in tears two days later. Crying because of the fantastic news he had just received.
Skip Westcott was going to be behind bars for the rest of his life. He could never hurt either of you again.
You joined Peter in his crying as the two of you embraced each other on your couch. Peter fell asleep there and you left to seek out Wanda and Natasha.
“I love you.” You murmured against their lips as you kissed them with tears streaming down your cheeks. “I love you so fucking much.”
“We love you too. Always.”