**Warnings:**
• Profanity
• Mentions of Sexual Abuse
• Mentions of Drugs
• Homophobia
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Chapter 2: There's Only One Thing Worse Than A Rapist
Peter's POV:
My hands prop my head up on the interrogation table as I stare at the unconscious man across from me. His wrists and legs are tied to the chair, his head lolled to the side, causing his hair to fall in his eyes.
He almost looks too pretty to be a criminal. And so young too. Is he even out of highschool? He has to be about my age.
My eyes glide over his sharp cheekbones, marked with scars and scratches, and then over the smooth droop of his slightly parted lips. A light scruff of hair covers his jaw and chin, almost invisible.
I glance down at his body. He's clothed in a see-through, white dress shirt with short sleeves that's tucked into black jeans. The shirt seems as though it could burst open at any moment with how tightly stretched it is over his broad chest. Through his shirt I can see an assortment of tattoos smothering his arms, chest, and...abs.
I swallow.
My eyes lazily slide back up his body, but when I reach his face, I yelp in surprise and shoot up out of my chair, stumbling as I try to regain my balance.
His startling green eyes are now open and staring directly into my soul.
I expect him to move, to flail, to struggle against his bonds and try to escape; but he just sits there, entirely still, and watches me with those frightening eyes, head still slightly lolled.
I force an awkward smile and give him a small wave. "Hi."
No response.
Bruce?" I call, feeling nervous as the intimidating man never looks away from me with that almost predatory gaze.
From the corner of the room I hear Bruce snort awake and rise from his chair. "What? What is it? Are you okay, Peter?"
I don't respond as he scurries over to where I'm standing. I gesture to the chilling gaze.
"Ah, you're awake again." Bruce drops into to seat I was just in, bringing out several clipboards, files, and a box of medical equipment. "I hope your coherent this time."
The man simply continues with his intense glowering.
"Right, well, it seems you've gone to the opposite side of things. You know, before, you were giving all kinds of information, but you were barely understandable. It was quite sad really. I think Steve must've hit you pretty hard." He shakes his head. "I already checked you over a bit though, and there doesn't seem to be any permanent damage; so no worries, Jackson."
The man's head lifts slowly from its sideways state, but the intimidating look never leaves his eyes. "You what?" A deep, gravelly voice falls from his lips, cracking on each word.
Oh my god, that was not the voice I was expecting.
Bruce looks up at him as he scribbles information on his clipboard. "I checked you over for any permanent damage. But like I said, you'll be fine."
The man, Jackson apparently, glances down at his body and then twists to look behind him, seemingly checking for something.
"If you're looking for your weapons, we've removed them all, of course. As for your backpack, we couldn't get it off of you or open it. Those are some complicated straps you've got on there, kid. It's a little ridiculous."
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Gang Life (PercyxAvengers) (PeterXPercy)
Fanfic**Mortal AU** Percy Jackson ran away from his abusive stepfather at the age of 11 to live with a well-known gang. He becomes someone he never imagined he would, addicted to drugs, alcohol, sex, and cigarettes. However, he has no choice but to contin...