Abuse (AVENGERS CAST X READER)

                                    

                                          
My friend, R/n wanted to be an actress first. Had me practice lines with her and help her. Forced me to join our high school's drama club so she wouldn't be alone. I found some joy there. Away from the cruel realities of the world. Escape. Eventually she realized that she just wanted the famous life and didn't care too much for the actual art of it. That's when she realized I could do it. I did after some local gigs here and there. Although I lost her in the process. My only friend. 
                          
	But recently I was casted in a real movie. Marvel's newest movie. It all became possible when someone recognized my talent and had me audition for Samantha Alexander or better known as Nova. We've worked for a few months now. 3 and a half to be exact. 
                          
	Ring... Ring...
                          
	I went to pick up my phone quickly. Noticing the caller ID even quicker I stepped away to take the call.
                          
	"You're late. Get home now or I'll come to get you myself." My dad shouted through the phone. Slightly slurring. His temper and slight alcoholism combined was like water to hot oil. Explosive. 
                          
	"Yes sir, I'll get home as soon as possible." He hung up. I scanned the crew and cast all working before finding one of the Russo brothers talking to one of them. I speedily walk towards him, trying not to be too noticeable. 
                          
	"Hey Anthony?" I asked.
                          
	"Yeah, what can I do for you Y/n?"
                          
	"I know I don't have any scenes left for today so can I get back home? My dad needs me."
                          
	"Yeah of course. I'll see you tomorrow then?"
                          
	"Absolutely, thank you! Bye!" I rush off to my trailer. I grabbed my bag and car keys and practically sprinted to my car. 
                          
"Hey Y/n, what's the rush?" I turned to see Chris whose face had a confused look plastered on top. 
                          
"Nothing, just gotta get home. Family stuff..." I throw on a fake smile. 
                          
"Okay then.. See you tomorrow then.." He turns back as I jump into the car. 
                          
I speedily make my way back home where my dad is waiting patiently inside the living room. I open the door warily and peak slightly before walking in. Knowing what is to come. He chugs the rest of the beer before smashing it on the ground. 
                          
"Where were you?" He shouts and slurs at the same time.
                          
"I was at work... I'm sorry sir."
                          
"Sorry isn't good enough," He stands up and walks around me, stumbling slightly.  He strikes me in the face harshly, enough to leave a rather large bruise by morning.  I'll have fun making an excuse... 
                          
	"I'm sorry, work ran late.."
                          
	"And you didn't think about me? About the house? About.." He trailed off. "I gave you permission to work, not to just.. Be a lazy piece of shit!" He hit me again, this time I fell to the ground. Landing on my side in a bad position. 
                          
	"Please.. It hurts.." I whimper in pain.
                          
	"I'm your father! You do as I say!" He pauses as he gets closer, pulling me back up. Dangling with my feet barely brushing the floor. "Not the other way around!" He throws me toward the coffee table leading to me splitting my skin. He walks away to the takeout menus we have stored in the kitchen. After regaining some strength I get up and head to the shower to clean up the blood on my arm and head. 
                          
I wake up from a drastic headache. I reach over to my nightstand where I have some painkillers laying along with water to swallow them down. I lay in bed for a moment more, waiting for it to kick in. I slowly got up and made my way to the mirror where my reflection was nothing but hideous. I'm not a morning person but even after my coffee I wouldn't look any better. My cheek was already a deep shade of purple. I can't hide that or the scar on my right temple from the fall. I could hopefully pass it off as clumsiness. Say I tripped over the rug and fell into the coffee table. I threw a matching hoodie and sweats in my favorite color along with some tennis shoes.