#chigurhxreader

TWs are sort of self explanatory, it’s a NCFOM oneshot. Guns, blood, drugs, death, etc.

He’d let himself get caught again, going through the paths taken that led him to where he was now; in a rusty, dusty warehouse in the middle of the desert, surrounded by cartel members.

“You been quite the troublesome hunt, ain’tcha?” The ringleader smiled snidely, sneering a silver capped tooth in Anton’s direction.

“Trouble for a few.” He replied, referencing the many replaceable peons the boss sent his way in an attempt to kill him. They’d all been shot to pieces, one bird falling out of the sky after the other. Even so, they hadn’t killed him yet, so perhaps sheer coincidence would kill them.

It’s what brought him here anyway, he supposed.

He heard the crunch of gravel and sand under rubber treads outside. He heard the infuriated slam of the door that followed after the engine was cut. The confusion in the room was palpable.

“Check.” The ringleader demanded to two pawns, and they set an explosive plan in motion they had no clue would be the end of them.

“It’s her.” Her. The one he was being paid to protect. A hotheaded spitfire who seemed to do well on her own. The one with the gift for cooking a product the cartel went crazy for. The one who he had left himself get caught for. He frowned.

This was the coincidence, wasn’t it? She’d never not had a plan cooked up in her clever mind. But when she was shoved into the building by two members without so much as a pocketknife on her, he felt that tight grip of anger around his heart.

She wasn’t stupid, she knew she’d have to be willing to die to do this job, and perhaps it was worth it for the money she made, but they both knew it wasn’t about that. It reminded him of himself. It reminded him of the first time he saw her kill someone.

“Please! I got money I can give ya, and we can jus’ walk away!” An older, white man in a business suit groveled at her feet, his hands raised in submission.

“Alright. How much is your life worth then?” She asked.

“I-I, however much you want!”

“What I want is your soul. What’s equal to that?”

“I, I got $20k in a lockbox around here and I-“

“$20k. Is that what your life is worth?”

“N-No, I-“

“Then it’s not good enough.”

“PLEASE-“

BANG!

She watched him for a moment. Watched the life drain from his eyes like sand draining through manicured fingertips. “Hm.”

She turned on her heel after holstering her pistol, and calmly walked out, and like the loyal guard dog he’d become, Anton calmly followed suit, seeing her in a new light.

But now this was different. She was on her knees with guns to her head, as was he, the only difference is he found cuffs hugging his wrists once again.

They’d emptied her pockets. The only thing she’d brought was the car keys.

“Evening gentlemen,” she smiled, “I thought I’d drop by since you got somethin’ of mine. I’ll take him, and leave, and that’ll be the end of it for y’all.” Calm as always, they made eye contact, and it never broke once.

“The end of it for us, huh, girly? Well I don’t know if you noticed, but you got yerself surrounded, with nuthin but a pair of beater keys.”

“Correct. You’re very observant.” She responded. “How about a trade then? My life for his? You keep me, you let him go. I stay, and I cook for your pack. How does that sound? Being the most successful cartel down south? You’re familiar with my product, ain’tcha?”

The ringleader eyed her suspiciously. “What, you love ‘im or somethin’? That it?”

“Something like that.” She said. “However, I do have one condition for this trade.”

“And what would that be?” He scratched his nose, huffing.

“You let me say goodbye to him.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Anton was thoroughly confused. Here you were, unarmed, valuable, and willing to trade your life for his in what you called an act of love? It’s not that he wasn’t familiar with the concept of love, just the thought of it being directed towards him, and from you of all people, was just not a possibility that had ever crossed his mind.

“Alright girly. We’ll let’cha say bye to yer boyfriend, but after that, it’ll be straight to cookin.” He turned to Anton, “And if you ever set foot on this property, I’ll put a bullet in her skull, got it?”

Anton’s dark eyes met the sinister bright blue ones of the ringleader. He nodded once.

She slowly got to her feet, her eyes never once leaving his, car keys in hand as if to hand them over to him so he could drive far, far away from here without her.

When she got close enough, she tackled him to the ground. Anton’s back hit the floor, and he grunted, bracing himself for his skull to smack onto the cold concrete. It never came, her hand cupping his skull in order to protect it, the other one pressing a button that popped the trunk to the car right outside. Suddenly, an onslaught of gunfire rang from outside, piercing the building’s corrugated metal exterior from side to side, and back again. Handfuls of bullets plunged into the cartel members each, and they dropped like birds, one by one out of the sky.

The gunfire lasted a few more moments, until the magazine was drained, and all was quiet except for the ringing in their ears, and the gurgling sounds that filled the room.

She got up off Anton, brushing herself off, she picked up one of the pistols the expendables dropped and pointed it at the ringleader, who made it out in one piece, but who was bleeding profusely.

“You think I was born yesterday? You take me for an idiot? I’m the most dangerous woman in the world, and you coulda saved yourself a world of hurt for just a while longer if you did well to remember it. Now look at you, I gotta make an example somehow, don’t I?”

“Please, I, I can give you money.” He groaned, tear filling his eyes as the pain became unbearable.

“That’s all I’m ever offered, but it’s never what I’m after.”

BANG.

She bent down, fishing a set of keys from the newest corpse. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“Not in the sense that you mean.”

“Good.” She walked over to him, unlocking the cuffs with one key, and picking another in hopes to find a new vehicle. “The car I drove here is shot, quite literally, so help me find a new one.”

She turned on her heels, and like the loyal guard dog he’d become, he’d follow suit, just as she’d followed him.

As they stepped out into the desert, Anton had caught a glimpse of the hidden contraption in the trunk of the beater. It was a machine gun on part of a bike with the pedal and chain, the wiring attached to a spare car battery helping the gun move back and forth. The passenger side of the trunk was shot to hell.

“It was a simple rig to put together. Trial and error though. The trigger was the car keys, the only thing I knew they’d let me have in my hand.”

“How’d you know it would work?”

“I didn’t. Coincidence.”

He looked down at her, one side of his lips quirking at her cleverness.

“Y’know, I’m thinking about quitting cooking. It’s just not fun anymore. I’m getting bored of it.”

She talked and he listened as they looked for a truck to match the new set of keys, finally finding one and getting in. She pulled a book out of a bag she grabbed from the beater, and continued where she left off as he began to drive like he always did.

“Your life is worth mine then?” He broke the silence, referencing the deal she was striking earlier. While it was unlike him to wonder about the past too much, choosing to focus on the present and the influence the past had, he was curious on if she had meant it, even if the deal was a ruse to begin with.

“Depends on if you think so too.”

“I do.”

She smiled to herself, eyes never leaving her book.

————-

Okay I hope y’all liked that. I know key fobs weren’t invented till the early 80s, but I figured it would be alright for the sake of the story.

I’m currently reading No Country for Old Men, and I could probably recite the entire movie word for word, so I thought maybe the first thing I’ll write on tumblr would be an Anton x Reader. This oneshot was based on my favorite scene in Breaking Bad.