Chapter 33: Morning Ruin
The velvet darkness of Dante’s bedroom pressed close, thick and silent. Dabi swam towards consciousness, the deep ache in his hips and ass a familiar, welcome throb after the library. Warmth enveloped him, Dante’s solid chest against his back, a heavy arm draped possessively over his waist. He sighed, sinking back into the pillow, the scent of expensive linen and Dante’s unique musk – sulfur, leather, and something ancient – filling his lungs. Peace. A fragile, unexpected thing.
It shattered instantly.
Sharp, blinding pain exploded in his shoulder as Dante’s teeth sank deep, a savage bite that tore a ragged gasp from Dabi’s throat. Before he could even register the violation, the blunt, insistent pressure breached him. Dante’s cock, thick and already slick – how long had he been preparing me? – pushed into him with agonizing slowness. Inch by torturous inch, stretching him wide, burning despite the slickness.
"Missed this ass," Dante snarled, his voice thick with sleep and raw hunger, muffled against Dabi’s bleeding shoulder. His claws dug into Dabi’s hips, pinning him down with bruising force as he finally bottomed out, hilting himself completely. The sudden, overwhelming fullness stole Dabi’s breath. Dante’s free hand snaked around his throat, fingers pressing just enough to feel the frantic flutter of Dabi’s pulse, the choked, desperate moan trapped there. "Gonna fill you so deep you’ll taste me for days."
Dabi writhed, pinned between the bite, the chokehold, and the relentless invasion. Pain warred with a terrifying, electric arousal that sparked along every nerve. Dante withdrew slightly, only to slam back in, hard and unforgiving. The rhythm was brutal from the start, no gentle build, just pure, driving possession. Each thrust jolted Dabi forward, the friction a searing brand inside him. Dante’s teeth worried the wound on his shoulder, sending fresh jolts of pain-pleasure down his spine. The hand on his throat tightened fractionally, forcing another choked gasp.
"Fuck… Dante…" Dabi managed, his voice strained, fingers scrabbling uselessly against the sheets.
Dante growled, a low, predatory rumble vibrating against Dabi’s back. He shifted his grip, releasing Dabi’s hip only to snake his arm under Dabi’s thigh, hiking his leg up higher, spreading him wider, allowing for deeper, more punishing penetration. The angle changed, and Dante’s cockhead scraped mercilessly over that spot inside him. Dabi cried out, arching violently, stars bursting behind his eyelids.
"Yeah?” Dante hissed, his breath hot and ragged against Dabi’s ear. He pistoned into him, the wet slap of skin echoing obscenely in the luxurious room. "That’s it. Take it. Take every fucking inch, you perfect little hole." His thrusts became faster, harder, driving Dabi face-first into the pillow. The pressure on Dabi’s throat eased slightly, replaced by Dante’s hand fisting in his hair, yanking his head back, exposing his throat. Dante licked a hot stripe up the straining tendons. "So fucking tight. Made for my cock."
Dabi was drowning in sensation. The pain of the bite, the bruising grip on his hip, the relentless pounding deep inside – it fused with the white-hot pleasure sparking from his core. His own cock was achingly hard, trapped beneath him, leaking onto the sheets. He felt stretched impossibly wide, owned, utterly at Dante’s mercy. And the terrifying part was how much he craved it. How the demon’s dark possessiveness ignited something equally dark and yielding within him.
Dante’s rhythm hitched, becoming more erratic, desperate. His claws dug deeper, drawing pinpricks of blood. He buried his face in Dabi’s neck, his breath coming in harsh gasps. "Gonna come," he snarled, the words thick and guttural. "Gonna flood this greedy cunt." He slammed home, grinding deep, holding himself there. "Come on, Dabi," he commanded, his voice rough with need. "Come for me. Be a good boy and fucking come."
The words hit Dabi like a physical blow. Good boy. The same words that had shattered him on the library desk. A visceral tremor wracked him, a moan ripped from his throat that was pure, desperate surrender. Instinctively, blindly, his hands flew back, reaching for Dante’s head. His fingers found the solid, warm base of Dante’s obsidian horns – the forbidden crown – and gripped them hard, anchoring himself against the storm.
Dante roared. Not in anger, but in overwhelming sensation. The grip on Dabi’s hair tightened painfully, his hips bucked erratically, grinding impossibly deeper. "Fuck! Good boy!" The praise was snarled, primal, as Dante’s cock pulsed violently inside him, unleashing a torrent of thick, scalding heat deep in Dabi’s core. The sensation, combined with the crushing grip on his horns and the dark, possessive praise, detonated Dabi’s own climax. He came untouched, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as his body convulsed, spilling hot stripes onto the sheets beneath him, clenching rhythmically around Dante’s still-spurting cock.
Dante collapsed heavily onto him, his weight pressing Dabi deep into the mattress. His breath was ragged gusts against Dabi’s neck, his body trembling with the aftershocks. Dabi lay pinned, gasping, the horns still clenched tightly in his fists, Dante’s softening cock still buried inside him, the demon’s spend leaking out around it. The air reeked of sex, blood, and sulfur.
Slowly, Dante lifted his head. His grey eyes, still holding the faintest infernal glow, met Dabi’s dazed ones. A slow, predatory smile touched Dante’s lips, sharp with dark satisfaction. He didn’t pull out. Instead, he shifted his weight slightly, his hand smoothing up Dabi’s flank, tracing the fresh claw marks on his hip before coming to rest possessively on his stomach. His thumb brushed the edge of a drying streak of Dabi’s own release.
"Told you," Dante murmured, his Detroit rasp softened by exhaustion and something else – a terrifying possessiveness. "You taste like me now." He leaned down, his lips brushing the bleeding bite mark on Dabi’s shoulder, a dark caress. "Mine." His hand slid lower, fingers pressing gently against Dabi’s abused entrance, feeling the mess they’d made, the proof of his claim. "All mine, good boy." He felt Dabi shudder beneath him at the words, a fresh tremor running through the spent body pinned beneath his own. Dante’s smile deepened. He settled his head back onto Dabi’s shoulder, horns casting long shadows in the dim light, his breath evening out against Dabi’s skin. The silence stretched, thick with the weight of what had been done, what had been claimed, and the terrifying, undeniable truth settling over them both in the aftermath.
The silence stretched, thick with the weight of what had been done, what had been claimed, and the terrifying, undeniable truth settling over them both in the aftermath. Dante’s heavy breath warmed the bite mark on Dabi’s shoulder, the metallic tang of blood sharp in the air. Dabi’s fingers, still loosely curled around the base of Dante’s obsidian horns, felt their faint, living hum beneath his palms. He felt utterly claimed, wrecked, the deep ache inside him a constant reminder.
Dante shifted, his softening cock finally slipping free with a wet sound that made Dabi flinch. The demon’s weight lifted slightly, but his presence remained overwhelming, possessive. A low growl vibrated in Dante’s chest as he surveyed the marks littering Dabi’s skin – the bite, the claw marks on his hips, the bruises forming on his thighs. "Fuck," Dante murmured, his Detroit rasp rough. "Made a mess of you, prince."
Dabi managed a shaky breath. "You always do." His voice was raw. He felt exposed, vulnerable, yet strangely anchored by the horns he still held. Dante’s gaze, molten grey and intense, dropped lower, tracing the lines of Dabi’s body. It lingered on his spent cock, lying soft against his thigh, smeared with his own drying release and Dante’s thicker spend leaking from his used hole. A different kind of hunger flickered in Dante’s eyes, replacing the brutal possessiveness with something darker, more deliberate.
Without a word, Dante slid down Dabi’s body. His movements were fluid, predatory. He ignored Dabi’s softening cock for a moment, his hot tongue instead lapping roughly at the mess between Dabi’s thighs, cleaning his own spend mixed with Dabi’s release from the crease of his ass and inner thighs. The sensation was startlingly intimate, filthy. Dabi gasped, his hips jerking involuntarily. "Christ, Dante..."
"Quiet," Dante ordered, his voice muffled against Dabi’s skin. His tongue was relentless, broad and wet, dragging through the sticky mess with possessive thoroughness. He cleaned Dabi with brutal efficiency, the rasp of his tongue sending shivers up Dabi’s spine, a confusing mix of humiliation and sharp arousal sparking anew despite his exhaustion. Dante’s hands gripped Dabi’s hips, holding him still, his thumbs digging into the fresh claw marks. When the area was mostly clean, Dante’s focus shifted.
He moved lower, his breath hot on Dabi’s balls. Then, without preamble, Dante engulfed Dabi’s softening cock in the wet, searing heat of his mouth. Dabi cried out, arching off the bed. "Fuck!" It was an electric jolt straight to his core. Dante’s mouth was furnace-hot, impossibly skilled. He sucked slowly, deliberately, his tongue swirling around the head, coaxing blood back into the sensitive flesh with agonizing expertise. He hollowed his cheeks, creating a perfect, tight suction that made Dabi’s toes curl.
Dabi’s hands instinctively flew back to Dante’s horns, his fingers wrapping around the warm, solid obsidian bases. He didn’t push, didn’t force. He just held on, anchoring himself against the onslaught of sensation, pulling Dante’s head fractionally closer, needing more of that devastating heat and suction. A low groan vibrated from Dante’s throat, sending delicious tremors through Dabi’s cock buried deep in that wet heat. The vibration, combined with the expert suction and the sinful swirl of Dante’s tongue, was overwhelming.
"Yeah," Dabi gasped, his voice cracking. "Oh fuck, yeah... right there..." His grip tightened on the horns, not controlling, just clinging. Dante responded with a deeper suck, taking more of Dabi’s length, his tongue pressing hard along the sensitive underside. He worked Dabi with unhurried, devastating precision, rebuilding his arousal from utter depletion. Each slow pull, each wet swirl, each vibration sent waves of pure, molten pleasure radiating outwards. Dabi’s cock hardened completely, thick and heavy in Dante’s mouth, the head bumping against the back of Dante’s throat.
Dante hummed again, the sound muffled and obscene. He released Dabi’s cock with a wet pop, his tongue flicking rapidly over the swollen head, making Dabi whimper. "So fucking good," Dante rasped, his breath hot on the slick skin before diving back down, taking him deep again. His hand slid underneath, fingers finding Dabi’s entrance, still loose and wet from their earlier fucking. One thick finger pressed inside easily alongside Dante’s sucking mouth.
The dual sensation was blinding. Dante’s finger curled, rubbing deliberately over that spot deep inside while his mouth worked magic on Dabi’s cock. Dabi bucked wildly, a strangled shout tearing from him. "Dante! Fuck! I’m gonna—" Dante sucked harder, faster now, his finger pumping in time with the rhythm of his mouth. The pressure built with terrifying speed, a white-hot coil tightening in Dabi’s gut. He pulled Dante’s head down harder with his grip on the horns, burying his cock completely in that wet, sucking heat.
Dante took it, swallowing around him, his finger still ruthlessly massaging Dabi’s prostate. The orgasm ripped through Dabi like a lightning strike, violent and all-consuming. He came hard, pulsing jets of come down Dante’s throat with choked, gasping cries, his body rigid, back arched off the bed. Dante swallowed every drop, sucking him through the shattering pulses until Dabi collapsed, trembling and utterly spent, his grip on the horns slackening.
Dante lifted his head slowly, his lips glistening, a drop of come escaping the corner of his mouth. He licked it away slowly, his eyes locked on Dabi’s wrecked face. The predatory satisfaction was back, deeper now. "Told you," Dante murmured, his voice thick and dark. He leaned down, his lips brushing Dabi’s ear. "You belong right here." His tongue traced the shell of Dabi’s ear. "In my bed. Taking what I give you." He nipped Dabi’s earlobe sharply. "Good boy."
Dabi shuddered, the words and the bite sending aftershocks through his exhausted body. He couldn’t speak, could only breathe raggedly. Dante shifted, pulling Dabi against his chest, wrapping a powerful arm around him. The horns brushed Dabi’s forehead. The silence returned, heavier than before, saturated with the scent of sex and sulfur and Dante’s dark promise. Dante’s hand rested possessively low on Dabi’s belly. "Sleep," he commanded, his voice a low rumble vibrating through Dabi’s bones. "Tomorrow’s another fucking day." The unspoken threat hung in the air, thick and inevitable.