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Killer's room is rather small in his opinion. The ceiling is low and he regularly bumps his head on the doorway on his way into it. But despite how small it is, there's just enough room to hold a large bed pushed into a corner that is overtaken with blankets, pillows and a large collection of stuffed animals.
The stuffed animals all belong to you (almost all of which have been gifted or stolen by Killer) aside from a small weasel one that's named Killer 2.0. That one, unfortunately, belongs to him courtesy of Heat. Killer 2.0 was gifted to him following an incident where a very drunk Haikei had loudly told Killer that he resembled a weasel he had met that day and proclaimed him "the weasel man."
Of all the stuffed animals that populate the bed, Killer 2.0 is your favourite one. It's not unusual for Killer to walk into the room and find it cuddled to your chest as you lounge about the space. Killer 2.0 is well loved; often treated like your son much to his dislike. Though it's rather childish, Killer is jealous of that stupid stuffed toy that gets most of your attention during the day and your cuddles during the night. The jealousy makes him feel too much like his Captain but he can't help it when he sees you kiss it goodnight before him.
This is how he finds you tonight. After dinner clean up duty had gotten too loud with Noe and Hip, Killer had found himself slipping out of the kitchen in search of the quiet calmness that is your shared room. Upon entering the room he had found you sat up on the bed, surrounded by enough stuffed animals to start an army and Killer 2.0 held delicately in your lap as you read one of his many books that pile up on the floor of your shared room. A rise of pride growing in him at the sight of you reading his book and clothed in an oversized tshirt that he knows belongs to him, despite how later you'll claim it's always been yours.
Killer, who will always be a fan of the quiet domestic moments he shares with you, finds himself coming to a still and leaning against the doorframe in an attempt to savour the sight to his memory so he can treasure it for the rest of his life with you.
"Hey Kil." Your voice breaks the silence, pulling him from the trance you've accidentally dragged him into and causing a smile to break out on his face under his mask. Sometimes he thinks it's fascinating how you have him so whipped and so in love. He's especially fascinated with how you make him so complete, devoid of any of the imperfections he sees in himself.
"Hey sweetheart." The sound of his voice has you looking up from your book and greeting him with a wide smile that causes Killer to feel the familiar feeling of butterflies scattering in his stomach. When Killer continues to stand there, taking you in and savouring the view you return your gaze to the book. Although, you find it rather difficult to concentrate on any of the words when he's staring at you so intently.
"Are you just going to stand there and stare at me?" His gaze on your form feels heavy and intimidating, but at the same time it feels familiar and safe. However, having him standing just out of reach is getting rather annoying considering both of you have been feeling starved of each other's touch all day.
"Maybe, why? Do you have a better idea princess?" His tone is teasing and light, but it sends flickers of heat along your spine all the same.
"You know I do Kil, get over here."
You really don't need to tell Killer twice, he's already pushing himself off the door frame and makes his way towards the bed before you even finish speaking. Upon reaching the bed, Killer allows himself to fall face down onto the soft memory foam mattress that you had bought after he kept complaining about back pains caused from looking up at Wire all the time.
The action has you giving up on your book in favour of kicking your legs out and curling up on your right side next to the blonde. After all, as interesting as books are, your boyfriend is just that more interesting. But not before you can gently place Killer 2.0 back in his rightful place, at the head of the pile of stuffed animals next to Killer.
"Was clean up duty that bad?" Your left hand reaches out to touch the soft blonde locks, grinning to yourself when Killer spins his body onto his right side so his back is facing you and pushes his head closer to your hand. It's a silent demand for you play with his hair.
So you play with his hair. Your fingers gently intertwine themselves in his hair, searching for the few knots that they might find in his hair and begin to slowly untangling them. The process should be quick but you drag out the experience for Killer, knowing that under his mask the blonde's eyes are shut and that he's holding in satisfied hums. He's always loved you playing with his hair and you know how much it relaxes him.
"It was so much worse than whatever you're thinking." His voice is quiet and muffled under his mask, so you sit up and carefully hook your left leg over his hips, pulling the blonde onto his back and allowing you to climb on to his lap. From there it's easy for you to lean forward and begin unclasping the buckles at the back of his mask. When it's finally been unhooked, you carefully pull it free from his head and place it on the bed beside you.
Then you lean forward again to attempt to place a gentle kiss on his lips, but you're stopped by Killer's voice.
"Stay still."
Killer's voice comes out husky and his words are followed back by a groan as he grips onto your hips, desperate to stop them from shifting over his like they had been moments ago. But his words and his actions don't exactly match what his body is telling you, as Killer's head is titled back and his purple mouth is hanging open.
So it's only natural that the sight would have heat pooling between your thighs. Heat so strong that your brain begins shutting down, only thinking with the feeling and getting relieve for it. So it's also only natural that the solution is to begin gently rocking your hips back and worth.
"Sweetheart, please." His words come out slurred and mumbled, intended as a warning for what you've just started for yourself but his focus is so entirely drawn to the feeling of your clothed cunt pressed so tightly against his covered cock.
"Please what Kil?" Your tone comes off as teasing and calm, but Killer can see how your thighs tremor slightly from the already growing exhaustion of dragging your hips across his. He can hear how your breath comes out all shaken and heavy.
Killer, ever the gift giver, decides then to take the initiative and begins to use the grip he has on your hips to drag you along his groin. Up and down, up and down. The pleasure has your eyes fluttering shut and dropping your head onto his shoulder as a series of moans and whines for him to "go faster" and make the grinds "harder, do it harder" fall from your mouth.
Touch starved and desperate, Killer begins to feel his brain shutting down to the pleasure and already getting drunk on it. He wants more. His right hand slides under the shirt you wear, sliding further and further upwards until his hand comes into contact with one of your breasts. Then, he grips it in his hand and squeezes down. The resulting whimper that falls from your mouth has his hips bucking up towards yours.
Completely unaware to him, his clothed cock nudges into your clit and you find yourself having to bite down on his shoulder through his shirt to muffle the loud cry that rises up in your throat. The last thing you want right now is an irritated Wire banging on the wall like he had last week.
The feeling of your teeth biting down has Killer throwing any remaining parts of self restrain out the window, he's always been obsessed with the pleasurable aspect of pain. Especially when it comes from you.
"Fuck princess. You don't know what you do to me." His voice is shaky and breathless, something that is rare for the blonde who is usually so serious and put together. But you've always been able to break the restraints on him and break down Killer's walls without even trying.
When you pull your teeth away from Killer's shoulder, to respond you are greeted with a sight so beautiful you wish you could take a photo to savour for it forever. Killer's head is thrown back against the sheets, his mouth hanging wide open and his eyes fluttering shut. Killer is even so lost in pleasure beneath you that his grip on your hips has loosened and he has halted his guidance of rocking your hips into his.
"I think I have some idea." Your tone is teasing and light, somehow being more put together than the Supernova trapped underneath your thighs. Then, as if to prove your point, you begin to slowly roll your hips against his. Your hands trace up to grip onto his shoulders as an attempt to use them as support.
His thumb begins to slowly caress the flesh of your breast. The touch is gentle and soft, to the point that it appears like Killer isn't aware of what he's doing. That is until his thumb gently caresses over your nipple and he takes it as the perfect moment to pinch down on it.
"Oh do you now?"
You can then only let out a loud whine and attempt to nod your head in response to his question, the sharp pain radiating from your breast distracting you too much.
But your lack of verbal response appears to displease Killer, as his right hand withdraws itself from underneath the shirt you wear to grip your chin tightly. His left hand tightens on your hip to stop any potential movements from occurring.
"Words sweetheart."
"Sorry Kil, yes...fuck, yes I do."
"Good girl." The praise has your eyes fluttering shut and your mouth falling open in a loud cry. Pure desperation and a strong overwhelming need for pleasure overtaking your body. When you look back the morning after this, you might be ashamed of the needy actions you find yourself doing to get Killer to touch you where you needed.
But in the moment all you can think about how good his touch feels and how much you need him to touch you harder. How much you needed him to make it hurt and to get rid of the ache between your thighs.
So it's only natural that you find yourself yanking at the shirt covering your body, attempting to put your brain back together so you can get it over your head and get Killer's hands back on your breasts. Killer, a man known for his observation and people reading skills, is quick to notice this and release his hands from their tight grip on you so he can help you get your shirt off.
When the shirt is over your head, it's thrown across the room to land somewhere between the piles of books and your clothes you had ditched in favour of Killer's shirt earlier. From there Killer is eager to allow you to guide his hands back to your breasts, letting out a satisfied groan when you push his hands harshly against them in an attempt to get him to grip them tightly (which he is very quick to do).
However, as much as Killer enjoys playing with your breasts and rolling your nipples between his fingers to get you worked up, he wants more. He wants his mouth on them.
So that's what Killer does. He leans up and wraps his mouth around your left nipple, causing your hands to fly up to tangle in his hair. It's a known fact that his hair is a weakness for Killer, something you often take to your advantage to get him worked up and has him once again beginning to buck his hips into yours.
However, the weird angle Killer finds himself at whilst attempting him to do both tasks begins to cause his back to ache and it's then he decides to have an impulsive position change. He drags his hands down from your breasts to their previous position on your hips and then using them as supports, he rolls you both so you find yourself suddenly lying on your back underneath with him hovering over you with both his calfs placed next to your thighs and his hands next to your head. Miraculously, Killer finds a way to keep his mouth firmly wrapped to your nipple.
It's already a known fact that you can make him vulnerable and tear down his walls without even trying, that you make him 'weak' as Kid once put it. But unknown to those around you, Killer is at his most vulnerable when it comes to moments like these with you. When he becomes complete and utterly focused on the pleasure shared between you, loosing all grasp of what's going on around him and what he finds himself doing.
However, your voice is once of the few things that can pull him from this state. Which is why when you call out to him now, it pulls him out of his jumbled state and causes him to halt his movements, his lips still wrapped around your nipple. He can only respond with a muffled hum as he impulsively sucks in harshly and delighting in the feeling of your hands tighten in his hair due to the resulting vibrations sending shock waves up your spine.
"We...we need to turn them around." Your voice comes out more whiney than normal and Killer finds himself looking up to see what you're going on about. But the resulting sight he's rewarded with sends a burst of heat down his body towards his groin. Above him, you lay weak and defenceless, your eyes unfocused and your mouth hanging wide open as you pant out heavy breaths. Then he watches as you feel his heavy stare and find yourself turning your head to the side to avoid it.
Hiding such a beautiful sight from him is unforgivable in his opinion, so he finds himself reluctantly pulling himself away from your chest, (but not before he places a small and delicate kiss to your nipple that had just been the victim to his assault) as he moves himself upwards so that his face level with your face again.
"What do you mean darling?" Killer asks as he carefully places his hands next to your head so he can lean over you, delighting in the way you look so powerless underneath him. However, when you continue to look anywhere but him, he finds himself starting to get irritated.
Adjusting his weight onto his right arm Killer uses his left hand to grip your chin and turn your face so he can look down at you properly. But you continue refuse to meet his eyes, choosing to focus on some other less important thing in the room, forcing Killer to lightly slap your cheek. Immediately your eyes flicker to meet his and Killer momentarily savours your responsive reaction.
"The- the toys Kil." Your eyes flicker away from him to focus on the toys that surround the two of you. "We need to turn them around, we can't let them watch."
The resulting laugh that bubbles up in his throat at your request is entirely voluntary and it has you whining underneath him in embarrassment. He's long past being insecure when it comes to you, you've both seen the worst and the best of each other anyways. Killer is also well aware of what the sound of his laugh does to you, having been witness on multiple occasions to the way your legs subtly clench together at the sound. So to him there's no point hiding something that you adore so much, especially when it results in such a beautiful effect.
"Alright princess, give me a moment."
It breaks his heart a little to have to pull away from you, but it's for the important cause of making you feel more comfortable and that's never something he would refuse to do. Making sure you always feel comfortable around him is what Killer sees as his most important job. Arguably even more important than being his Captain's First Mate.
The task is one he's familiar with, having it done countless times before when committing the various sins that have occurred within the sheets of your shared bed, so he's well practiced in turning the many, many stuffed animals so their backs face you. All except one however.
"Hi handsome." When the task is 'complete' he returns to his previous position of leaning down over your body, his hair falling down around both of you to create a sort of veil around your faces, hiding you from the collection of stuffed animals. Your right hand moves up to cup his cheek, a touch that he eagerly leans into and accepts happily.
"Hey beautiful."
The compliment is one you'll never get used to hearing it, despite the thousands of times he's reminded you how beautiful and breathtaking you are. Your cheeks feeling flushed, you turn your head away from him to the stuffed animals. Letting your eyes trace over the army of stuffed animals that now face away from you. That is, all of them except Killer 2.0 that is definitely not where had you placed him before and is instead seated right next to you both, staring you down.
"Killer...what about Killer 2.0?"
"Let the little bastard watch, he needs to learn his place." You can't help the laugh that rises in your throat. Sometimes you tend to forget how much his best friend has rubbed off on your boyfriend over the years. The childish jealousy Killer displays is a perfect example of this.
However, the laugh is quick to die out when you feel Killer begin to pull apart your thighs and start kissing his way down your torso to settle between your open thighs.
"Let me show you how much better I am than that stupid stuffed animal."