Wally Darling AU oneshots

☆ Butcher Wally x Reader ☆

A cute dinner date. What could go wrong?

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The restaurant was dimly lit, the kind of place with candles on every table and waiters dressed in clean white shirts and black ties.

Y/n sat across from Butcher, their leg bouncing nervously under the table.

They weren't sure how they'd been roped into this, well, roped wasn't the right word. It had been more of a very persistent invitation that didn't seem optional.

He sat calmly, his unnervingly sharp eyes scanning the room with lazy disinterest. His work outfit and apron had been swapped for a suit (which wasn't buttoned properly and still had questionable stains),

Even seated, his presence dominated the space, every grin just a little too sharp to be friendly.

Y/n cleared their throat, their voice coming out more wobbly than they wanted. "So... uh, do you come here often?"

Butchers eyes snapped to them, and he chuckled, low and amused. "No, I don't typically go for places like this. Too... sanitized for my tastes."

They laughed nervously. "Right. Sanitized. Of course."

They both fell silent, glancing over the menus. Y/n pretended to read theirs while sneaking glances at Butcher.

His face remained impassive, but his fingers tapped idly against the edge of the table.

Finally, they couldn't take it anymore. "Uh, Butcher? You've been staring at that menu for a while. Can't find anything you like?"

His lips curled into a grin, a flash of teeth that sent a chill down their spine. He set the menu down with a soft thud. "Oh, I've found plenty of things I like, sweetheart. Just not here."

Y/n blinked, their nervous laugh catching in their throat. "What... what do you mean?"

Butcher leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, his grin widening. "Let's just say." He began, his voice dripping with dark humor. "The meat I prefer isn't exactly on the menu."

They stared at him, their brain spinning.

Was he joking? Was this one of his dark puns?

Before they could respond, Butcher tilted his head, his curls catching the flicker of candlelight, and added with a wink. "Don't worry, I'm not about to order you rare. Yet."

Y/n nearly knocked their glass over in their rush to grab it, taking a shaky sip. "Ha. Funny. You're so... funny."

He sat back, watching them with a smug expression that screamed cat with a cornered mouse.

The waiter arrived, thankfully breaking the tension, and took their orders.

They quickly chose something simple, not trusting their voice to hold steady much longer.

"And for you, sir?" The waiter asked the more unpleasant guest, who hadn't picked up the menu again.

"I'll take whatever steak you've got." He replied smoothly. "Bloody. Very bloody."

The waiter blinked, clearly unnerved. "Uh... rare, then?"

"Rare's a good start." Butcher said, his grin returning.

The waiter scurried off, and Y/n exhaled, trying to regain composure. "You're really something, you know that?"

He chuckled. "I've been called worse."

Y/n couldn't help a small smile.

As much as his dark jokes made their skin crawl, there was an odd charm to him.

He wasn't pretending to be someone he wasn't, and for some reason, that honesty, however terrifying, felt refreshing.

"So." Butcher said, folding his hands on the table and giving them his full attention."Tell me. What made you agree to this little dinner?"

They hesitated, fidgeting with their napkin. "I... I guess I was curious. And you, uh, insisted. You where very insistent."

Butcher let out a low laugh. "Fair. I do have a way of getting what I want."

His gaze was heavy, pinning them in place. But before they could spiral too deeply into their nerves, their food arrived.

As Butchers steak was set in front of him, he glanced at it with vague disinterest before raising his glass. "A toast?"

Y/n quickly picked up their glass, nodding. "Sure, uh, to... what are we toasting to?"

His grin turned wicked. "To new connections, darling. And to knowing exactly what you're getting yourself into."

They nervously clinked glasses with him, the sound ringing out like a warning bell.

As Y/n sipped their drink, they couldn't shake the feeling that Butcher wasn't talking about dinner.

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