[ SMUT ] ink x killer ⁉️⁉️⁉️

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STARTING THIS OFF WITH A BANGER LETS GO

okay so im thinkin,

Killer's wrists are bound together by Ink's paint, and attached to the wood of the bed.
Ink laughs at Killer's struggling, the way he pathetically tugs at the binds and pushes his hips back and forth.

"Please..!" Killer cried, back arching beautifully, and Ink found himself rubbing small circles on his soft thighs, born of magic but made with real nerves, sending waves of pleasure up their spines.

"Hm? Please what?" Ink snickered, thrusts slow- agonizingly slow, Killer whines.

Typically, Killer wouldn't find himself wanting Ink like this-

Typically, his knife and flexibility clashed against Ink's magical creativity and paintbrush.

Not Killer's neediness again Ink's teasing and agonizingly slow thrusts into him.
If only Ink would hurry the fuck up, Killer wouldn't be so close to tears, so worked up just for Ink to hardly move at all.

It was too slow, but felt too fast st the same time, it wasn't enough, but he felt like he could keep Ink inside of him forever, if Ink had not touched him so much right before this.

"Killer~" Ink purred, and Killer shuddered, tears stinging his sockets.
(Absentmindedly, he wondered hoe that would actually work, given that skeletons didn't have tearducts.)

"What." Killer bit out, although it came out less confident that he wanted, and more needy than anything.

"Don't use that tone at me." Ink narrowed his eyes, emphasizing that tone with a harsh thrust, and Killer yelped, wrists instinctively tugging at the binds that he'd forgotten were there.

And then, after that harsh tone, Ink switched up so fast that, if Killer weren't so focused on wanting his brains to be fucked out, would've given him whiplash.
"Please what, Kills? What do you need."

"You- You know what I need..!" Killer whined, hips twitching- in return, Ink dug his hand into Killer's hips, leaving harsh indents in soft flesh.

"I'm afraid I don't. Use your words. You can speak, can't you? You're rather good with your mouth!" Ink smiled, and for a moment, Killer wanted to break instantly at the sight of it.

"You don't know what I want? But I thought immortals knew how to think and have common sense." Killer retorted, and he found a jolt of lovely electricity shoot up his spine, when Ink visibly got upset at the attitude.

"I can leave you here, you know? I can pull out, and leave you here all worked up and wet. It's up to you." And although Killer had tried to refuse humiliating himself by saying what he wanted out loud-

Well, his resolve crumbled instantly.

"Ink please- please go faster, please..!" Killer finally said, with a frown.
You can't blame him- he wanted this so bad. Needed it.
And he wasn't about to be left all high and dry!

"There we go, that's it. Good boy."
Ink hummed, and with that, Ink once again flipped a switch, slamming his dick in and out of Killer's tight heat, grunting from effort and Killer audibly sobbed at the sudden onslaught of pleasure.

He felt magic swirl and twist where his abdomen would be and the muscle itself tensing, and he gasped, losing control of his hips bucking up wild.

"Oh god- fuck- fuck! Ink- holy shit-" Killer sobbed, tears slipping down and mixing with liquid HATE.
Ink panted, and leaned down to steady himself better, Killer's legs that had rested upon Ink's shoulders testing out his flexibility, thighs touching his own chest.

"Wow! I didn't know you- haah.. -could bend that far!" Ink panted, "Does- ngh.. -Does it hurt?"

Killer shook his head. "No- ah- fuck!! No- doesn't hurt-"

"I see! Fascinating." Ink remarked, moving to put all his weight on just one of his arms- after realizing that wouldn't work, pushed himself up, and using his forearm to carry all his weight while pushing forward on Killer's legs, until his knees touched the mattress, and Killer nearly screamed, the new angle allowing Ink to go so much deeper.

At this new angle, Ink rubbed along the back of his thigh to feel the tightened muscle.
"Your bones arent even dislocating. Not a single stress put on them... can see it through your body." Ink observed aloud.

It was just a simple observation, but that was all it took for Killer to cry out an amalgamation of Ink's name, clenching hard around Ink's dick, vision a blinding white as he came.

"Oh, you're doing so well." Ink purred, "So needy, so tight- your such a pretty little whore, aren't you?" Ink semi-praised, and Killer found his focus blurring as he began tugging, twitching, sobbing amalgamations of begs and pleads, while he was pushed into overstimulation.

"How many times do you think you'll cum just for me? I assume you want me to use you like a doll, isn't that right?"
Ink knows Killer won't respond due to the amount of overstimulation pounded into him, so he doesn't bother to actually wait for an answer.

"So pretty. When we're done, it'll look like a masterpiece. A work of art."

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"How many times do you think you'll cum just for me?"
Yeah...

That question was burned into Killer mind when he woke up the next day.

The fact Ink ACTUALLY counted, too!

Killer sighed, drinking some hot chocolate at the table in the castle...
"You were gone forever yesterday!" Chara huffed, sitting on the table, chewing on ghost-food chips.

".....I know." Killer flushed.

"Being all alone isn't exactly very fun. What were you even doing??"

"Adult stuff."

"Adult stuff?? You literally came back mumbling stuff about Ink!"

"Look.. we can talk about it when you're not 14."

"I'm always gonna remain 14- wait."

Killer braced himself for Chara's shouting with a sigh.

He supposed this was called for.

He should've known that when Dust said 'fuck around and find out,' he hadn't meant literally.

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