Chapter 34: Mirrored Ruin
The bass from the Inferno Club’s main floor pulsed through the polished marble floor like a diseased heartbeat, a counterpoint to the frantic hammering of Dabi’s own pulse against his ribs. The VIP bathroom was an oasis of cool, sterile luxury – gleaming chrome, blinding white marble, bathed in an ethereal blue light that did nothing to dispel the shadows clinging to the corners. The air hung thick with expensive sandalwood cologne and something sharper, darker, an echo of Dante’s siren song that still vibrated faintly in Dabi’s bones. He’d followed Dante back here after the performance, drawn like a moth to a lethal flame, the memory of Dante’s teeth on his shoulder, his cock buried deep, still a fresh, aching brand.
Now, cold marble bit into Dabi’s cheekbone. His knuckles were white where he gripped the edge of the vast sink basin. Dante’s heat pressed against his back, overwhelming, suffocating. Claws – sharp, black points erupting from Dante’s fingertips – dug into the meat of Dabi’s hips, piercing skin, anchoring him brutally. There was no preamble, no gentle slide. Dante’s cock, thick and unforgiving, slick only with Dabi’s own reluctant arousal, slammed into him with a single, brutal thrust.
"FUCK!" Dabi screamed, the sound ricocheting off the hard surfaces, swallowed by the distant thrum of the club. The pain was immediate, searing, tearing through unprepared muscle. Dante didn’t pause. He pulled back only to drive forward again, ramming into Dabi with piston-like precision, each thrust a calculated assault designed to split him open.
Dabi’s eyes flew open, locking onto their reflection in the vast mirror above the sink. His own face was a mask of agony and shock, sweat-slicked, lips parted in a silent scream. Behind him, Dante was… changed. Not fully monstrous, but undeniably other. Obsidian horns, thick and ridged, curled back from his temples, catching the blue light. Leathery wings, vast and shadowed, were half-unfurled, brushing the chrome fixtures, casting monstrous shapes on the walls. But Dante’s eyes… they glowed with an infernal light, molten grey pits fixed on Dabi’s reflection, burning with primal possession.
"Mine," Dante snarled, the word a guttural rasp vibrating against Dabi’s spine. He pistoned harder, deeper, the wet slap of flesh against flesh echoing obscenely loud in the confined space. Claws tightened, drawing beads of blood that welled dark against pale skin. Dabi’s vision blurred, tears of pain and overwhelming sensation stinging his eyes. He felt stretched impossibly wide, invaded, owned with every brutal snap of Dante’s hips. "Say it," Dante demanded, his voice thick with demonic resonance, punctuated by another punishing thrust that drove Dabi’s hips hard against the sink’s edge. "Whose owns this?"
Dabi choked, unable to form words, only ragged gasps escaping his bruised throat. Dante’s free hand tangled in his hair, yanking his head back, forcing him to stare directly into those glowing eyes in the mirror. "Look at yourself," Dante hissed, his breath hot and sulfurous against Dabi’s ear. "Look at you taking my cock like you were made for it. Mine." Another thrust, deeper still, grinding against Dabi’s prostate with agonizing force. Dabi convulsed, a strangled cry ripped from him, his cock jerking traitorously against the cold marble beneath him.
Before Dabi could even process the brutal rhythm, before the promised climax could crest and shatter him, Dante wrenched him backwards. Claws released his hips only for powerful hands to spin him roughly. Dabi stumbled, his back hitting the cold marble wall beside the sink, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs. Dante was on him instantly, pinning him against the unforgiving surface. One hand slammed against the wall beside Dabi’s head, claws scraping marble. The other gripped Dabi’s thigh, hiking it up high around Dante’s waist, spreading him obscenely open.
There was no pause. Dante’s cock, slick with Dabi’s blood and spend, found his entrance again and plunged back in, hilting himself in one savage stroke. Dabi screamed again, the sound raw and desperate, echoing off the tiles. Face-to-face now, Dabi was trapped by the sheer, terrifying reality of Dante’s partial transformation. The horns loomed close, the wings cast them both in shadow, and those glowing eyes bored into his, stripping him bare.
"See me now, prince?" Dante growled, his Detroit accent warped by the demonic timbre. He began fucking Dabi again, hard, deep strokes that rocked Dabi’s entire body against the wall. The angle was different, more intimate, more invasive. Dante’s cock dragged over that sensitive bundle of nerves with every inward thrust, sending jolts of white-hot pleasure-pain radiating through Dabi’s core, warring violently with the tearing ache of the penetration. Dabi’s hands scrabbled against Dante’s shoulders, against the hard muscle of his back, finding no purchase on sweat-slicked skin. His gaze locked onto the obsidian horns, so close he could see the intricate whorls in the dark material.
Driven by a surge of defiance, terror, and that dark, addictive need Dante always ignited, Dabi’s hands shot up. His fingers closed around the base of Dante’s horns. They were warm, solid, vibrating with a low, powerful hum that resonated up Dabi’s arms. He gripped them hard, anchoring himself against the storm, pulling Dante’s head down slightly, forcing their eyes to meet even closer.
Dante froze mid-thrust, buried deep. A low, dangerous rumble started in his chest, building into a snarl. But his eyes… the infernal glow flared, then softened infinitesimally, replaced by a fierce, possessive heat. The snarl morphed into a dark, triumphant grin. He leaned in, his lips brushing Dabi’s ear, his voice dropping to a rough, intimate rasp that cut through the demonic resonance. "That’s it," he breathed, his hips grinding deep, making Dabi gasp. "Hold on tight. Take it all. Fuckin’ good boy."
The praise, raw and filthy in this context, slammed into Dabi with the force of Dante’s thrusts. A shudder wracked him, pure, electric submission coursing through his veins. He tightened his grip on the horns, meeting Dante’s burning gaze. Dante’s rhythm changed instantly. It became less brutal, more deliberate, deeper, grinding. Each powerful thrust was aimed perfectly, dragging over Dabi’s prostate with relentless, devastating accuracy. Pleasure detonated, washing over the pain, consuming it. Dabi’s head thudded back against the marble, a broken moan escaping him as his cock, trapped between their sweat-slicked bodies, jerked and pulsed untouched.
"Come on," Dante urged, his voice thick with his own building release, his breath hot against Dabi’s neck. His thrusts grew faster, harder, losing their measured precision, driven by primal need. "Give it to me. Come for me, good boy. Let me feel you fuckin’ milk my cock." His hand slid down, fingers digging into the flesh of Dabi’s ass, spreading him wider, forcing him to take every inch deeper.
The command, the relentless stimulation, the sheer, overwhelming possession broke Dabi. He came violently, a hoarse shout tearing from his throat as his body arched, clenching spasmodically around Dante’s invading cock. Hot stripes of release spurted between their pressed stomachs. Dante roared, a sound that shook the chrome fixtures, his hips slamming forward one final time, grinding deep as his own climax ripped through him. Dabi felt the scalding flood fill him, pulse after thick pulse, marking him internally as Dante’s claws marked him externally.
Dante slumped forward, his forehead resting against Dabi’s, his horns framing Dabi’s face. His breath came in ragged, sulfur-tinged gusts. Dabi trembled violently, pinned between the cold marble and Dante’s scorching heat, his hands still locked around the horns, Dante’s softening cock still buried deep inside him, leaking proof of his claim. The blue light glinted off the blood smeared on Dabi’s hips, the sweat on Dante’s brow, the mess between them.
Slowly, Dante lifted his head. The infernal glow in his eyes had faded to smoldering embers, the wings retracting into shadows that vanished against his back. The horns remained, solid and warm beneath Dabi’s trembling fingers. Dante’s gaze, intense and utterly possessive, swept over Dabi’s wrecked face. A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips. He leaned in, his lips brushing Dabi’s, tasting of salt and sulfur and dominance.
"Remember the taste," Dante murmured, his Detroit rasp fully returned, laced with dark promise. His hand slid possessively down Dabi’s flank, coming to rest on his hip, claws retracting but leaving stinging crescents. "Remember whose." He pulled out slowly, the drag agonizingly intimate, letting Dabi feel every inch of the withdrawal, the loss, the emptiness filled only by the demon’s cooling seed leaking down his thighs. Dante stepped back, adjusting himself with casual arrogance, his gaze never leaving Dabi’s. "Clean yourself up," he ordered, his voice dropping to a low, commanding rumble. "The night’s still young. And I’m not nearly done with you." He turned, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving Dabi slumped against the blood-streaked marble wall, trembling, marked, and utterly claimed in the sterile blue light. The distant bass thumped on, a mocking reminder of the world outside Dante’s dark dominion.
The distant bass thumped on, a mocking reminder of the world outside Dante’s dark dominion. Dabi stood there, trembling, the cold marble leaching the heat from his skin, the ache in his hips and thighs a constant, throbbing reminder of what had just happened. He stared at the closed door, his breath still ragged, his body still trembling from the aftershocks. The silence in the bathroom was deafening, broken only by the distant thrum of the club’s music, a world away from the violence and intensity that had just unfolded.
He pushed himself off the wall, wincing as his muscles protested, the ache in his ass a deep, insistent throb. He looked down at himself, his reflection in the mirror a mess of sweat, blood, and come. His skin was marked with Dante’s claws, the bite on his shoulder still oozing blood, the bruises already forming on his hips. He felt raw, exposed, and yet, there was a strange, twisted satisfaction in the pain, a dark, addictive need that Dante always seemed to ignite.
Dabi turned on the faucet, the cold water a shock to his system as he splashed it on his face, trying to wash away the remnants of Dante’s possession. But the marks on his skin, the ache in his body, the memory of Dante’s cock buried deep inside him, those weren’t things he could wash away. He looked up at his reflection, his eyes dark, haunted, and he knew that no matter how much he tried to deny it, Dante had claimed him, body and soul.
Hours later, the club was still alive with the pulse of the music, the crowd a sea of bodies moving in sync with the beat. Dabi sat at the bar, a glass of whiskey in his hand, the burn of the alcohol a welcome distraction from the ache in his body. He could feel Dante’s presence before he saw him, the air around him thickening with a dark, oppressive energy. He turned, his eyes locking with Dante’s, the demon’s gaze burning with a predatory hunger that sent a shiver down his spine.
"Thought you’d left," Dante said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that cut through the noise of the club.
Dabi shrugged, the movement causing a fresh wave of pain to shoot through his body. "Where would I go?"
Dante’s lips curled into a dark, triumphant smile, his eyes gleaming with a feral light. "Nowhere," he said, his voice a rough, intimate rasp. "You’re mine, remember?" He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, his heat searing against Dabi’s skin. "And I’m not done with you yet."
Dabi felt the words like a physical blow, the possessive claim igniting a dark, twisted need deep inside him. He didn’t resist as Dante’s hand closed around his wrist, the grip firm, unyielding. He let himself be pulled through the crowd, the music fading into a distant hum as Dante led him back to the VIP area, the same bathroom where he’d been claimed earlier.
Hours later. The door clicked shut behind them, the silence of the room a stark contrast to the noise of the club. Dante pushed him against the wall, his body pressing against Dabi’s, the heat of him searing through his clothes. "You’re still mine," Dante growled, his voice thick with need, his eyes burning with a feral light. "And I’m going to make sure you never forget it."
Dabi’s breath hitched as Dante’s lips crashed against his, the kiss brutal, possessive, claiming. Dante’s tongue forced its way into his mouth, the taste of whiskey and sulfur overwhelming. Dabi’s hands flew up, tangling in Dante’s hair, his fingers brushing against the base of his horns, the familiar warmth sending a shiver down his spine.
Dante broke the kiss, his lips trailing down Dabi’s neck, his teeth sinking into the already bruised skin, drawing a sharp gasp from Dabi. His hands moved to Dabi’s belt, the sound of the buckle coming undone loud in the silence of the room. Dabi’s pants were shoved down his thighs, Dante’s hand wrapping around his cock, the rough, calloused skin sending sparks of pleasure shooting through his body.
"Fuck," Dabi gasped, his head falling back against the wall, his eyes closing as Dante’s hand moved in slow, deliberate strokes, the friction just shy of painful. "Dante—"
"Shut up," Dante growled, his voice rough, dark, his breath hot against Dabi’s skin. "You’re mine, and I’m going to take what’s mine." His hand tightened around Dabi’s cock, the pressure just shy of painful, the sensation overwhelming. Dabi’s hips bucked, his body arching into the touch, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Dante’s lips found his again, the kiss brutal, possessive, claiming. His free hand moved to Dabi’s ass, his fingers probing, pushing inside, the stretch a familiar, welcome burn. Dabi moaned into the kiss, his body reacting instinctively, his hips pushing back against Dante’s fingers, seeking more.
Dante broke the kiss, his lips trailing down Dabi’s neck, his teeth sinking into the already bruised skin, drawing a sharp gasp from Dabi. His fingers pushed deeper, stretching him, preparing him, the sensation overwhelming. Dabi’s hands flew up, tangling in Dante’s hair, his fingers brushing against the base of his horns, the familiar warmth sending a shiver down his spine.
Dante pulled his fingers out, the sudden emptiness a shock to Dabi’s system. He didn’t have time to protest before Dante’s hands were on his hips, lifting him, pinning him against the wall. Dabi’s legs wrapped around Dante’s waist, his body instinctively opening for him, the anticipation a sharp, electric current running through his veins.
Dante’s cock pressed against his entrance, the thick, blunt head pushing inside, the stretch a familiar, welcome burn. Dabi’s breath hitched, his body arching into the penetration, his hands tightening in Dante’s hair, his fingers brushing against the base of his horns. Dante pushed in, inch by torturous inch, the stretch overwhelming, the sensation a mix of pain and pleasure that left Dabi gasping.
"Fuck," Dabi gasped, his head falling back against the wall, his eyes closing as Dante bottomed out, the feeling of being filled to the brim overwhelming. "Dante—"
"Shut up," Dante growled, his voice rough, dark, his breath hot against Dabi’s skin. "You’re mine, and I’m going to take what’s mine." His hips snapped forward, the force of the thrust driving Dabi harder against the wall, the sensation overwhelming. Dabi’s nails dug into Dante’s shoulders, his body arching into the thrusts, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Dante’s rhythm was brutal, unforgiving, each thrust driving deep, the force of it pushing Dabi up the wall. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the room, the wet, filthy sound of their fucking a stark contrast to the sterile, cold surroundings. Dabi’s legs tightened around Dante’s waist, his body reacting instinctively, his hips pushing back against Dante’s thrusts, seeking more.
"Fuck, Dante," Dabi gasped, his voice raw, desperate, his body trembling with the force of the pleasure coursing through him. "Harder—"
Dante growled, his hips snapping forward with increased force, the intensity of the thrusts driving Dabi harder against the wall, the sensation overwhelming. Dabi’s nails dug into Dante’s shoulders, his body arching into the thrusts, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The pleasure built, a coil tightening in his gut, the sensation overwhelming, the intensity of it driving him closer to the edge.
"Come on," Dante growled, his voice rough, dark, his breath hot against Dabi’s skin. "Give it to me. Come for me, good boy." His thrusts became faster, harder, the force of it driving Dabi up the wall, the sensation overwhelming. Dabi’s body tensed, the coil in his gut tightening, the pleasure building to a crescendo, the intensity of it driving him closer to the edge.
Dabi’s body convulsed, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as his orgasm ripped through him, the force of it overwhelming. Flames erupted from his skin, the heat searing, the intensity of it driving Dante’s thrusts harder, deeper, the sensation overwhelming. Dante roared, his hips snapping forward with increased force, the intensity of the thrusts driving Dabi harder against the wall, the sensation overwhelming.
Dante’s release followed, the force of it driving Dabi harder against the wall, the sensation overwhelming. The flames around Dabi’s body intensified, the heat searing, the intensity of it driving Dante’s thrusts harder, deeper, the sensation overwhelming. Dante’s hips snapped forward with increased force, the intensity of the thrusts driving Dabi harder against the wall, the sensation overwhelming.
Dante’s hips slowed, his thrusts becoming softer, more deliberate, the sensation overwhelming. Dabi’s body trembled, the aftershocks of his orgasm rippling through him, the intensity of it overwhelming. The flames around his body subsided, the heat fading, the intensity of it overwhelming. Dante’s lips found his again, the kiss brutal, possessive, claiming. Dabi’s hands tightened in Dante’s hair, his fingers brushing against the base of his horns, the familiar warmth sending a shiver down his spine.
"Remember the taste," Dante murmured, his Detroit rasp fully returned, laced with dark promise. His hand slid possessively down Dabi’s flank, coming to rest on his hip, claws retracting but leaving stinging crescents. "Remember whose." He pulled out slowly, the drag agonizingly intimate, letting Dabi feel every inch of the withdrawal, the loss, the emptiness filled only by the demon’s cooling seed leaking down his thighs. Dante stepped back, adjusting himself with casual arrogance, his gaze never leaving Dabi’s.