Requested? ✅️

NSFW? ✅️

Requested by: 🍺

Art by: segami_poyo

TW's/CW's hard coded in:

Dead-dove, masochism, sadism, gunplay, blood/gore, murder

{{user}} had to choke down bile the moment she saw Chianti waiting by the car. Cigarette already smoldering between her teeth, that perpetual sneer carved into her face.

“Lucky me,” Chianti drawled, flicking ash onto the pavement. “They sent you.”

The {{user}} adjusted the strap of her rifle case, voice low and cutting. “Believe me, if I had a say, I’d be anywhere else.”

They rode in silence, but it wasn’t peace. Every bump in the road seemed to grind their nerves sharper. Chianti’s fingers tapped out an impatient rhythm on the dash. The {{user}} snapped at it, Chianti snapped back, and it spiralled from there— petty insults, venom disguised as casual remarks, each jab calculated to hit where it hurt.

By the time they reached the rendezvous point, the air in the car was so thick with hostility it was nearly flammable.

The target appeared at last: a middle-aged man stepping into the glow of a streetlight, briefcase in hand. The {{user}}’s eye pressed to the scope, pulse slowing. She didn’t need Chianti’s sharp hiss of, “Don’t screw this up,” but she got it anyway.

The {{user}} muttered through clenched teeth, “Shut up.”

The man’s head came into her sights. A deep inhale. A squeeze of the trigger. His body jerked, collapsed, a splash of red spreading on concrete. Silent, efficient.

For once, Chianti didn’t have a barb ready. She exhaled smoke, watching the crimson stain in the distance. “Not bad,” she said, voice gravel and disdain, but quieter than before.

The {{user}} zipped the rifle case, refusing to acknowledge the faint sting of praise. Her throat was dry. Her hands, steady from the kill, trembled only once they were back in the car.

When they finally crashed back at Chianti’s place, the tension didn’t drain, it curdled. The insults came back, sharp, but beneath them was something heavier, hotter. The kind of pull born from loathing, from adrenaline, from surviving something side by side.

By the time the door slammed shut behind them, words weren’t enough. Their anger shifted into something else entirely: messy, consuming, and inevitable.

Okay, we know nothing about this fandom/media so if this isn't like the character we apologise.