The Deal | Dan x Reader 1930's Mobster AU

Red Angel

Heyyyy

I decided to update today on Christmas rather than Monday, so Merry Christmas!! But...

Guess who's back? Back again. *whips*

...

Okay maybe you didn't want me back, I don't either -_- idk why I act like this.

Enjoy~

(Y/n)'s POV

I didn't stop the work after that, the feeling of other human being's blood spilled crawling all over my skin. I began sinking deeper and deeper, my eyes swimming in the dark bruise colored pools under my eyes. I wasn't eating, I couldn't, an uncomfortable ache in my stomach to accompany the ache in my heart. Prickles along my skin arose every time someone passed as if they were Satan himself coming to present the list of sins I had created for myself.

I spent most days in my quarters, only speaking when spoken to, gripping onto my sheets or my clothing. My personality had lost all its lackluster as did my hair and my eyes and my skin. I was a ghost patrolling the city; dark, power-hungry shadows guiding me along like a puppet, my strings cutting into my wrists and ankles.

He visited me everyday, consistently and purposefully reminding me why I'm here, why I'm in this state. My teeth chattered and fog came from my mouth as I climbed into the car. My hands began their usual wringing, snarling henchmen of the upper Man loading another body in the trunk.

London would be dead by dawn if this kept up, a red angel sweeping over the streets and sucking the life from each building and person in them. Me. My new nickname, evolved from an endearing 'red' to a daunting 'red angel'.

I was no angel.

My knuckles were battered and bruised from every run in imaginable, my fingers naturally curling around a gun half the time. These were not the warm hands of an angel. I am a modern Azrael*, painting over my face to disguise the true figure underneath. These hands have pulled down the eyelids of too many.

I gritted my teeth.

The car sped away, leaving me to sit on my sins, letting them trace up and down my spine and I shook, almost uncontrollably. The driver left me in the garage, leaving with the body and the 2 men who had done the grunt of the physical work.

I had taken the mental work.

I pulled a cigarette from my pocket, lighting it as I walked. I took a drag, eyes set heavily on the elevator door in front of me. I had resorted to smoking, something I never wanted to do, but want to do now. Indulging myself on yet another aspect of life. By the time I reached the door I had gone through one cigarette which I stomped out, watching ash crush into the pavement.

I let myself back up into the penthouse, pulling off my trench coat and putting it on the coat rack near the entrance. I listened to the rhythmic footsteps end as I stepped on the carpeted stairs, only muffled thumps now.

I opened the door to Howell's office, walking in on him and Andrea enjoying each other's presence. Too much. I said nothing, not an apology for barging in nor an outburst of protest to the sight I had walked in on. I don't give a shit. I only pulled papers from the cabinet and a pen from the holder knocked over, most definitely from Andrea's behind against the edge of the desk. Howell had trapped her there.

"Another?" Andrea asked, pressing against Howell's chest to move him out of her view of me leaving.

"Per your request Persephone*," I hissed, slamming the door behind me. Persephone and her Hades, somehow gaining control of everyone in and out of their own little Underworld. My own personal Hell. I knew he was following me, and I resisted the urge to crumple the paper in my hand or snap the pen I had in the other.

"Brat."

I turned, my lip and my nose hooking upwards in a twitching snarl. He met eyes with me, both ends of the glare dark.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Filling out your papers. Doing your job. Running your business." He watched me carefully. He approached, his lips in a firm, pursed state, dropping with resentment.

"Come here," he jeered, gripping my wrist and dragging me into my room. He shut the door, grasping me and holding me to the door, pinning me there. He, hands shaking with anger, gripping at my waist, agressively attacked my neck, his face hot against my cold skin.

This wasn't the first time.

I was often I would come home to have him take his claim over my neck and collar bone, but never my lips. He was angry, his pent up aggression shown through the teeth marks along my paling skin. And I let him.

My head always remained firmly against the door, my hands slack beneath the tight shackles at my wrists. I could fight back but I found no point. I was just a punching bag he would never take it further. He can't even kiss me.

If he could I would still let him, there was no point in resisting. This was punishment for what I've done. A taste of what I do longed for but nothing more as the list of wrongs I've committed lengthened.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop killing?"

I didn't answer, my eyes watching the wall blankly. I couldn't want him anymore, we had both changed. The security and comfort I had reached for was not achievable. It was gone and it wasn't just his fault it was mine too.

"How many?!" He asked, sinking his teeth into a sensitive spot on my neck. My mouth parted slightly, but I didn't wince, I only closed it again. "Bitch."

He pushed me aside and left, closing the door roughly behind him so that my wall would shake. I only let my body stumble and shake to the bathroom where I would trace the teeth marks on my skin.

Just like always.

*Azrael is an angel of death
*Persephone is the queen of the Underworld

~Calymari