Molly's Fics Cause she Refuses to Read Them on Ao3

Who You Belong To

TW/Tags: Wall Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Love Bites, Biting, Mild Blood, Breathplay, Barebacking, Unhealthy Relationships
I didn't read this one <3

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Dazai notices it the second Chuuya walks in. Dazai notices it and his face drops ever so slightly just for a brief moment.

A hickey.

Nonchalantly, carelessly, Chuuya makes his way through Dazai's office with the usual indifferent expression on his face, hands folded behind his straight back, ready to do his daily job as the Mafia's second-in-command, being Dazai's right-hand man, torn between his duty to protect his master like a loyal dog, and the insatiable desire to kill him. These two opposites live inside Chuuya eating him alive, and Dazai takes great pleasure in seeing the slug so conflicted and frustrated, but always, always prioritising Dazai's wants and needs over his own.

He is unable to indulge in the pleasant fantasy of Chuuya's torment today, for the hickey is the only thing occupying his mind. It's mostly hidden underneath Chuuya's choker, blurry edges poking unevenly from underneath the smooth leather, mocking Dazai, ridiculing him, sticking out like a sore thumb, screaming at him that somebody touched Chuuya, somebody tried to claim him as his own. Somebody left their mark on the body that belongs to Dazai, and Dazai only. Somebody left their mark and Chuuya let them.

The day goes by as always, if only with some slight deviations from his normal routine.

Chuuya walks past Dazai's desk brushing a stray strand of hair off his neck absentmindedly, leaving the purple mark unobstructed by the fiery locks, like a blooming flower on his fair skin. Dazai slams the door and goes to the basement, shooting a random prisoner until his head is nothing but an unrecognisable bloody mess. An Executive asks Dazai for permission to send Chuuya on a mission with him, and the poor guy leaves the office sobbing and clutching his broken nose, blood staining the expensive carpet. Dazai sees Chuuya on his phone, texting somebody with a cocky expression on his face, and he yanks the phone out of Chuuya's hands, sending it flying at the wall. He signs papers and he sees Chuuya's hickey in the blotches of ink jumping up and down in front of him, taunting, laughing at him. He reads through the daily reports and finds himself rereading the same sentence over and over again, his mind occupied by the visions of somebody else's lips touching Chuuya's skin. He sits in the conference room while his subordinates speak in the debriefing, but he doesn't listen - the only sound replaying in his mind is Chuuya's moans so familiar to him, the moans no one else but him should be able to hear.

The day goes by as always, if only with some slight deviations from his normal routine.

"You wanted to see me, Boss?" Chuuya spits out disdainfully, closing the door behind him and casually leaning on it. Dazai stands up from his desk and crosses the room in three swift steps, looming over Chuuya, his breath strained, hands in tight fists. Chuuya smirks and turns the key in the lock without even looking. Dazai puts his finger under Chuuya's choker, feeling his Adam's apple bobbing, and pulls it down, revealing the hickey on his neck in its full glory.

"Care to explain, Chuuya?" he murmurs in a quiet voice, rage simmering in his blood.

"I don't owe you any explanation, Dazai," Chuuya says with a smug look on his face, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes, his hands in his pockets. The way he stands makes him look even more petite and it drives Dazai absolutely mad. Chuuya's coat is off and the top three buttons on his shirt are unbuttoned, tailored vest hugging his waist tightly, and Dazai can't do anything but leer at him hungrily. Chuuya chuckles internally - this little trick worked without a fail, as usual.

Dazai suddenly grabs the choker, tugging on it and blocking Chuuya's airways. "I think you are starting to forget who you belong to, Chuuya," Dazai growls, frustrated, annoyed at how even while being choked, Chuuya still has this shit-eating expression on his face, the look of superiority, of power. "You're mine," he whispers into his ear, feeling Chuuya jerk underneath him trying to gasp for air.