𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞 | Billy Butcher [ON HOLD]

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖳𝗐𝗈

«Do It Love»

Maybe I've officially lost my mind. Billy Butcher, really? (me trying to understand why the fuck I'm obsessed with him and let me tell you one thing, my friends mock me for it)

                                 

"Where are we?" Hugh asked as we both followed Butcher into a dark alley.

"Keep your mouths shut," he said roughly, everything about this man is rough and it scared me.

We ended right in front of a service entrance door behind a tall, ornate, old downtown building. Butcher strode to the door, Hugh and I in tow.

After a few knocks, a nervous security guard answered.

"Harry. Got your message. Thank you for being an upstanding citizen," Billy told the guard.

"You know this is fucking police brutality, man. You know what they'll do to me, they catch me letting you in?" the guy said as I stood there watching this exchange, curiously.

"Not half of what I'll do if you don't," Billy said, his words sending shivers down my spine. He was a freak for sure.

"Did he just say you were police?" Hugh asked.

"Yeah, you know, cop, fed, all the same to twats like that."

The Security Guard opened the door handing over three security badges which Billy passed for each of us before he walked inside while Hugh and I hesitated.

The rough tug of Billy on my hoodie caused me to almost stumble forward and fall to the ground if I hadn't grabbed his shirt which drew a smirk on his face.

An elevator led us into a private club and our jaw hit the floor. Dark. Thumping music. Lots of side rooms and various nooks and crannies. AND SUPERHEROES. Naked. Having sex as they float in the air.

"Holy shit," Hugh gasped.

"Pick your jaws up off the floor and try to blend in. This is the only place where the Supes can scratch their filthy little itch without the paps taking snaps," Butcher told us.

"I can't, what if someone recogni-" I said but was cut off by Billy.

"They won't love, keep that fucking thing on yer head and you'll be just fine," he said harshly.

"Wait, wait, wait. That's Ezekiel. The "Capes for Christ" guy... preaches all that 'pray the gay away' shit," Hugh said as I followed his gaze to find Ezekiel stretching his body toward two men.

"And now he's the meat in the Manwich. fucking hypocrite," Butcher said the moment Ezekiel started kissing one of the guys causing me to look away.

"What the hell are we doing here?" I hissed as I struggled to keep my gaze away from all the shit that was taking place in this room but where ever I looked I caught something nasty.

"How old are you?" Butcher asked.

"Twenty," I said.

"Good, come on."

Again we let him lead us into God knows where, as I kept my eyes fixed on the floor afraid that any of the Supes would recognize me.

Right outside a backroom, a security room, the anxious Security Guard checked if the coast is clear before he let us inside the room full of monitors recording every room.