𝐕𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, one shots & headcanons

Butch DeLoria

Traveling with you has been the best part of Butch's life and he would never put anything above it. However, he hates going into bars and seeing all of the stares you get. You were quite the sight, he definitely knew that, but he didn't want others to look at you... well, basically the way he looked at you when you didn't notice.

Of course, you were oblivious to the stares and went on to order a drink for yourself and Butch. He waited patiently, with his back against the bar as he stood beside your stool. Butch narrowed his eyes at a guy who licked his lips, seemingly ready to get up and make a move. But once he saw the threatening glance the gang member was sending his way, he sat back down.

"Try this," You hand Butch a drink you just stirred together. He took a sip and his face immediately scrunched up, causing you to laugh. "Well?"

"That's fuckin' disgusting." He passed it back to you, instead taking the whiskey in your other hand and downing a gulp of that. You shrug, sipping on the drink he didn't like and spinning around slowly in the bar stool. Butch takes this as a sign you would like to stay, getting himself comfortable by sitting in the stool beside you. "You know, I've got to say you're—"

"Excuse me, miss." A stranger approached you, a sly grin over his face as he studied your features. You nod to acknowledge him, but say nothing in hopes that he'll leave quicker. "I don't want to waste your time, so I'll make this quick. I couldn't help but to see you from across the room and you are just– absolutely stunning. How about I treat you to dinner tonight?"

"Actually, I—"

"She has plans already." Butch quickly interrupted, not diverting his cold glare away from the man. He looked as if he wanted to say something in return but swallowed back his pride and backed away, leaving you to question Butch for his quick outburst.

"What was that?" You laughed, noticing his cheeks turn a darker shade of red.

"He was bothering you." Butch replies timidly, taking a sip of his drink.

You take the bottle from him and set it on the counter, "You, of all people, know I pack a punch, say it comes down to it. I had it handled, you knew that."

Butch was defeated, releasing a quick sigh. He didn't want to confess his feelings for you or the pit of jealousy he always carried around with him whenever you got too much attention that wasn't from him. He was afraid of your rejection and the fact of ruining your friendship after it took so long to mend it.

"Were you jealous, baby?" You attempted to imitate his smooth accent, making him chuckle and meet your eyes.

"No way I sound like that. You completely butchered that." Butch defends himself, avoiding your question until you meet his eyes. He inhales deeply, knowing it would be best to come out now rather than later. "I like you, yeah, like more than a friend. And it really ticks me off when guys like that asshole come up to you, or they stare too long— I just— I want you to be mine, so I know they won't take you away from me."

His full-hearted confession makes your mind go blank with loss of any sarcastic remarks or a cheesy line. At your silence, he felt rejected. Before he could stand up, you take his hands in both of yours. "You had me from the moment I saw you out here."

"I came for you, doll." Butch suddenly gains enough confidence to flirt back.

You roll your eyes, standing up and dropping one hand but interlocking your fingers with his other. "I know that's a lie, but us being together is definitely the best thing to come out of it."

"Couldn't have said it any better myself, baby."