Just the typical sad marvel thing /Peter

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Peter's pov:
I stand up in front of him and slap him as hard as I can. Then I kick him on the knees to make him unable to stand up. At least that's what I thought. "Ow," he growls. I step back, thinking through what I just did but when he stands up I regret everything. "You hit me HUH?" He screams into my face. "Wasn't that enough? Mhm okay." He forces me to go into the kitchen. His grip has never been this strong around my wrists so that's not good. I assume something really bad will happen and I'll really try to get away then. I don't have to wait too much until I find it out. He opens the drawer filled with cutlery in the kitchen. Shit. He takes out a knife. "Does my little Peter still cuts himself?" He pulls my sleeve up. "No? Wow, you had a good time at the stupid avengers then!" My breathing quickens as he brings the knife closer to my arm. "Let's change that" he whispers. "No, no stop, stop," I beg, almost crying. I realize I'm panicking. I'm hyperventilating and shaking. He doesn't stop. He brings that knife closer and closer and I'm trying to get out of his grip. "Stop trying Peter. You won't get out of here" He pushes that knife deeply into my skin. "Shit" I hiss to the pain. He's smiling, he enjoys this. He cuts my arm a few more times, deeper each time. "Ah stop" I grunt and cry in pain. "Better yeah?" He asks and slides the knife lightly along my chin and jawline. "Mhm," I gulp, closing my eyes as he pushes that knife a little more, enough for my jawline to bleed a little. He accidentally or purposely, I don't know but cuts my cheeks as well and then he finishes this whole session with a usual slap. It causes the cut on my chin and cheeks to bleed. "Clean that blood up from the floor" he points to the blood drops from my arm.

I quickly do that and then go to my room. I don't even care, I just lay in my bed and cry. It's been a few hours since I've been crying constantly. I make myself get up and notice that my hoodie is stained, and so is my bed a bit. I clean the bed and when I'm about to pull up my sleeves, I feel how much it hurts. The blood dried, and my sleeve dried into my cuts. It hurts like hell but I pull my sleeve up and rip my cuts open again. They bleed pretty badly, so I wet a towel and put it on my arm, on the cuts. After a time they stop bleeding. I notice one of them is much deeper and it might need stitches but I just bandage them with the extra bandages I got from Bruce and say it's done.

Then I look in the mirror and find the cuts on my face. Then a ton of bruises and marks. And then I notice the marks of him choking me multiple times. I know that these will take more time to cover and I have just a few more hours until May's home so I need to start right now. I manage to cover the bruises but I can't cover the cuts for sure, nor the marks. I can't cover them no matter how hard I try. It makes me so anxious, what am I gonna do? How will I see May? I'm so helpless, it's so seeable. That mark is the worst on my neck. I'm crying again. I'm getting so exhausted. Mentally and physically. I hate everything here. I go back to my bed and cry for a couple more hours. I realize I cried off the makeup so I take it off and then go back to bed. This time I actually fall asleep. Headphones in my ears with my hoodie on and a cozy blanket on me.

May's pov:
I'm standing in the doorway, digging for my keys in my bag. Finally, I find it and step inside. I find Matthew sitting on the couch, reading something. Go there and kiss him. Then I go to Peter's room to check on him. I knock but no one answers. I go inside and find him turned to the wall with his hoodie on and a blanket over him. I walk closer and notice the headphones and that he's sleeping. I kiss him on the head and decide to leave him. He must've had a hard day.

I go down to Matthew and ask what did they do with Peter. He says that they played board games and cards. So I wonder what happened. "I know he has bullies in school, maybe that's why he's so tired and sad," I say. Matthew just nods. We ate lunch without Peter this time.

Peter's pov:
I wake up after a good hour of sleep. My arm is aching, it's so bad. I check my phone and see messages from Bucky. I look at the time. Oh no. We were supposed to meet today. But we can't do that. I can't cover anything. I quickly text him that it's not good today and that we have plans with May and Matthew. I'm kinda nervous he'd find out I'm lying, my intuition telling me he'd find out somehow but my cuts need some time to heal first. He leaves me on read and doesn't text anything. Did I make him mad or upset? I text 'I'm sorry' to him after. He must be angry now. I lay back in my bed with my headphones in and just stare at my ceiling.

I see a shadow from the corner of my eye in my window. I take out my headphones with my hoodie still on my head, making sure I don't reveal my identity to anyone. And of course to cover the bruises. I turn and see Bucky pushing my, now not-closed, window up with his metal hand. "Bucky? What are you doing here?" I ask. "Hi, Peter. We need to talk" he says as he comes in. "So you broke into my room?!" "I know you lied," he says. "I didn't! We're... we're going shopping" I try to find an excuse "I talked with May. She told me that they're going to the cinema with Matthew but you'll stay." I just sigh. He knows and I can't do anything now. I have to talk with him and he's mad because I lied.