i n c h a r a c t e r i n b o x

[helping_hands]

" W̶̧̡̱͉͉̜̺̞̿́̋͝ḣ̵͈̣̲̰̱̗̞̭ã̶̢͓͔̮̰̯̰̩͗͊̎̔̐̾ͅt̴̡̠̗̠̲͇͖̹̝̙̽̄̈́?̶̧̡̬̺̘̝͚͍͑ ̷̧̜̭͔͔͉̯͒͐̾̑͘W̸̨̻͛̇̿͂̒̐͒̈́h̸̰̤͖̪͎̏͌̈́͑́̓͐͜͜͝ò̸̙͇̘̖͈̩͐̌̓̔͐͝ ̷͎͓̟̠̽͋͑̋I̵̧͕̋̂͒̏̂̈́͠͝͝s̶̹͂͑̽͠ ̸̛̝͎͛̄̎T̷̢̖̠͇͔̠̪̳̗̞̾͘̕͘͠h̶̳͙̱̮͓̫̱̻̝͂̂̐i̷̭̺̽̅͋̃̀͑̉s̴̼̘͖̳̲͌̓́͒?̶̸̨̛̪̙̰̦̹̙̅̇͑̒̓̈́͘͠


H̵̝̤̪͇͈͓̒̒̓͛̇̌̾̿̚ͅò̸͉͕w̴̼͕̰̝̌ͅ ̵̢͚̝͒̓̒̏̄̾̃D̷̛̻̭̩̮͖̹̽͗͐ͅį̸̰̰͕̺̝̯̼̉͒̐̇͜ḏ̶̡̑̔̈́̆̆̔̈́̄͜͝͝ ̴̗̯͓͉̥͎̲̉̃͗̀Y̵̛̪͛̾͗o̴͕̮̜̦̭̭̙͎͆̃ͅu̷̫̘̹̮̼̫͋̊͑̄̎͊̓ ̴̛̮̩̘̆͐̏̍̈͘̕̕G̷̛͙̃̒͆́̽̇́̏e̶̠͔̅t̸͖̪̰̻̯̫̩̤̔̌͒͠͠ͅ ̵͎͓̏̒Ţ̶̫̠̱͔̅̉̀̈́́̑̍̑͝h̶̢̜̪͇̰̹̹̳͎̲̅ĩ̵̧͍͎̩̪̜̹̖̠̾̾ş̷̨͙̪͓͝ ̵̛̰̪̓͊̂̏̓̓̈́̚͝Ń̸͙̗̤̥̹͎̐̉͆̐̏̿̒͌̈́u̶̜̥̳̻̤̖͋̆̆͗̃̏̿̅m̷̼̙͓͎̬͔̦͚̍̾͌͌̔̓͘͝ͅb̷̰̐̏͊̓͝ȅ̵̹̙̩̪͙̗͚́̇̿́͘ŕ̵͙̽̄͆̓̉͗͆̂͠?̴͎̦̻̽͑̾̀͆̉̈́̌ͅ "

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[helping_hands]

If he knew Dito thought he was adorable that while during any of this encounter he thought him beautiful, he would have tried to stop and protest. He was used to looking like a freak, like a monster, ugly and threatening; he was used to making people uncomfortable, not arousing or pretty in the slightest. So Dito thinking of him in those ways was something Shigaraki would take time to get used to... If he ever got used to it at all, that is.

Leaning against the small man like he was, panting and twitching, cock pulsing as he was overstimulated by Dito's constant attention. Why was it so sensitive? Was that normal? Why did it still tense up and leak out a milky dribble with every other stroke and squeeze of his bodyguard's hand? What was he doing to him?

"W-what are you talking about? A-game? ... T-then... Then what was that?" He asked in a desperate breath, swallowing as he let his hands trail down from over Dito's shoulders, dragging his dull nails to pull at his shirt before he curiously gripped one hand at their wrist, to stop him from tormanting his spent cock, as his other gripped around the base of Dito's. His head tipped down like this had all that balanced hair fall around to cover his face.

[syncopathic]

Like any true sadist, Dito knew that milking every ounce of pain from a victim sometimes had the unfortunate side effect of causing them to shut down; to withdraw into themselves in an almost subconscious attempt to escape. Obviously that didn't much matter when it came to killing an adversary in battle, but when it came to torture, it meant that the prey essentially became useless. The fun was over. They just became another piece of meat. It was the same with pleasure-- give too much to someone at one time, no matter how enjoyable it was to torment them, and you risked burning out their brains.

It was a shame, really. Though he would only have admitted it in his own secret thoughts, Shigaraki was the most fun he'd had in a long time... in terms of dalliances, anyway. He grinned impishly at the other man as his wrist was taken, his eyes widening in mock shock-- good heavens, how did that get there?-- as his devious hand traced light trails across Shigaraki's stomach, smearing slick jism over the muscles as they clenched.

"Oh, that? That was a demonstration, my gorgeous-- ah?" Dito's words cut off in a sharp and almost feminine gasp as he suddenly felt Shigaraki take hold of his engorged cock. He'd been so fixated on reducing the other man to a whimpering, writhing lump of overstimulated pleasure that he hadn't realized how close he himself was; how sensitive he'd become to touch in only a few minutes. Dito bit his lip hard enough to taste blood as he struggled not to lose himself just yet. His body trembled, his hips froze, rigid with his refusal to move against Shigaraki's fingers.

Only one coherent thought blazed through his addled brain: How had this angry little virgin managed to switch the traces on him so quickly?

[helping_hands]

This was Shigaraki’s first sexual encounter, too, so he was easily overstimulated. Then again, his stamina and tolerance to pain and discomfort were higher than the average person. Not that Dito was hurting him or anything, no, quite the opposite. Whatever he’d been doing fell good, really good and Shigaraki wanted more of it, he just had to let his body get used to the sensation and stimulation, after all, the only time he’d came like this was by his own hand and this felt a hell of a lot nicer than his crusty dry skin wrapped around his cock, that was for sure.

His stomach twitched and tensed up as the now cooling mess was smeared around his muscles and dry skin, the colour in his cheeks flaming with heat, embarrassment and lust as he gritted his teeth and let out a strained sound. He wanted to tell him to stop it, that it was gross and he should play with it like that- And yet, something about that grin on Dito’s lips only encouraged him. Oh, but what’s this? What was that sound that just slipped from Dito’s lips? Did he mean to make such an alluring noise? Was he still fucking with him? Is this part of the game? Shigaraki, overthinking as usual tipped his head, eyes wide and alert as he shifted his grip and gave Dito’s cock a long, slow stroke from tip to base then back up again.

“Hah… If this is a game, I hadn’t been ready to defend myself… But now? … Now it’s turn-based and this is my attack phase, yeah?” Feeling confident and smug in the afterglow of having emptied his sack all over his tummy, giving himself time to settle down, was the perfect chance to see if he could get Dito off too.

[syncopathic]

Dito could barely comprehend what Shigaraki was saying, so focused was he on not succumbing to the other man's ministrations too quickly.

"Hhhh... You sadist... waiting for me to drop my guard..." Dito's voice was low, throaty with approval and lust. Despite himself he felt his hips begin to move; to rock against Shigaraki's hand as if the man somehow was controlling his motions. The concept wasn't as worrying as it probably should have been, but perhaps that was the stupid, pigheaded lust clouding his judgment.

He wasn't so far gone that he didn't feel the slight inexperience in the way Shigaraki handles him. The man's grip was rough-- not unpleasant by any means, but it was clear that he hadn't had much practice. Dito wondered, vaguely, if he'd ever even brought himself off before. Shifting slightly, the Disciple reached down to cover Shigaraki's hand with his own.

"Easy now, easy... I ain't a spear haft, y'know-- you don't gotta grip me so hard." Dito's laugh was little more than an exhalation of breath. He could feel the other man's heartbeat through their fingers, and wondered vaguely if Shigaraki could feel his own quickened pulse. Again, that thought didn't bother him as much as it probably should have.