#meruem x reader

[justwinginglife]

The first time you get your period when you’re with Meruem, he completely freaks out. He wakes up to find you’re laying in a pool of your own blood and he, for the life of him, cannot find where you are injured. He immediately- and I do mean IMMEDIATELY- calls for Neferpitou to come and heal you but there’s nothing for her to heal. So he panics more.

He’s never felt so out of control in his entire life. The love of his life is bleeding out before him and he can’t do a damn thing to stop it. It isn’t until you stir awake (and find him frantically trying to rack his brain for any ideas on how to save you) that you give him a sleepy laugh and explain the situation. 

He’s horrified. You go through this every MONTH? How are you so CALM?

When he realizes that you’re still soaked in your own blood, he draws up a bath for you and carries you over to it gently. He watches over you, concern clear in his eyes, as you clean yourself up. He knows you’ve just explained how periods work but he’s still worried he’ll find some injury somewhere that’s causing all of this.

When you groan to yourself that the cramps are starting, it only furthers his belief that you have some sort of internal damage. He’s all over you in an instant- where does it hurt, where do you need him to massage, is the water too warm, is it not warm enough, what will make the pain go away, what can he do to not be completely, utterly, and totally useless? 

You ask for food and he’s ON it. 

When you finish your bath only to be presented with the largest banquet you’ve ever seen, you awkwardly clear your throat, and whisper to him that you had only meant you wanted a small snack. You eat as much as you can anyway, just to make him feel better, just to ease some of the worry afflicting him. You can tell he isn’t taking this well. 

It definitely takes him some time to get used to the fact that, for one week out of every month, the person he loves most in the entire universe is burdened by random pains, random cravings, and random hormonal outbursts, but eventually, after enough times, he’s got it down to a science. 

He knows how to massage you in a way that gets you melting in his hands. He knows when you want him to sing you to sleep and when you just want him to shut up. He’s got a cooled blanket for when you get too hot and a heated blanket for when you get too cold. He knows all your favorite foods and what you tend to crave more and when. If loving you was an art, he’d be Picasso and you'd be his masterpiece.

[quimichi]

↳ ❝ [PLAYING WITH THEIR HAIR] ¡! ❞

WARNING: I love Hanzo, but i had to-, Ging cause he's a crime, Hisoka, its more hair related situations than actually playing with it, but the vibe is comfy and chill, some are on crack but enjoy :)

SUMMARY: You play with their hair (if they have any lol)

CHARACTERS: HxH guys × F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 7.191

AN: it was super fun, for some reason my inner gremlin shows up if i write hxh

Chrollo

Chrollo lets out a soft huff of air as you start playing with his hair. He's sitting up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, focused on the book in his lap. A smile appears on his face, but he doesn't look up from the page he is reading.

"You're playing with my hair," he answers with a hint of playfulness in his words. "No.", you try to suppress a smile, but it's giving you away as you play coy. Chrollo glances up from the book, giving you a curious look.

"Are you trying to annoy me?" He quirks an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Sometimes." you smile.  He shuts the book in his lap with a quiet thump, setting it to the side before turning to face you, his body moving closer to you with a fluid grace. "You're terrible at teasing me," he hums, wrapping an arm around you. "It's almost adorable," he murmurs. Chrollo pulls until you are sitting in his lap, your back against his chest. His arms wrap fully around you, his chin resting on your shoulder. "Can't even own up to it," he says, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. He takes a deep breath, the rise and fall of his chest against your back steady and even.

"What will I ever do with you?" "Can I keep playing with your hair?" "You'll do it regardless of what I say," he murmurs, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

His breath is warm against your skin as he speaks, his words brushing against your ear like a whisper. "Yes, you can," he relents after a moment. Chrollo hums in contentment as you start to run your fingers through his hair, his eyes closing at the feeling. He nuzzles his face against the side of your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses against your skin. "You know, you're very distracting," he mutters against your neck, his voice muffled by your skin.

He pauses, burying his face further into the crook of your neck, his breaths warm and fast. "Very distracting," he murmurs again.

Bonolenov

His whole body stiffens when you touch his head; soft flick or no, he flinches, as though it's the first time someone has ever laid their hand on him. His breath shakes, and an inhale comes sharp, almost painful. Yet, he doesn't move away from you at all. Bonolenov stares at you.

"Don't…" He whispers. At your laugh, Bonolenovs glare transforms into something more hesitant— as if unsure of what to do with his face in response to your laughter. "Don't tease me," He mumbles, eyes flickering from your face to the floor. "No teasing." "Sorry, sorry." You keep softly laughing as you rub his bald head again. (Wtf am I writing) Bonolenov shudders again at the feeling of your hand on his head. He leans into it, slowly, a flower seeking the sunlight.

"You do this on purpose," he mutters. Despite his protest, Bonolenov can't seem to look away from you, or stop you from touching him.  He shivers ever so slightly every time your hand moves over his head, and he still hasn't moved away. In fact, he's almost… pressing his head against your hand.

"Or is this a ritual from your tribe?"

Dalzollene

Dalzollene stirs slightly from the gentle motions of your touch, tilting his head up, almost as if seeking to lean against your hand. Dalzollene blinks slowly, eyes half-lidded. He makes a soft, sleepy sound, a low hum that is more of a content hum than anything. He's half-asleep, completely at ease and utterly lost in this moment. "You're overworking yourself." You whisper as you carefully take a seat on the desk he's resting on. Dalzollene's eyes flutter as he tries to focus in on you more clearly.

"I am simply doing as I should," he says, his words slightly slurred from sleep. He lifts a hand to rub his eyes, before he blinks up at you again. "I have to—" his words interrupt themselves with a yawn, "—work." "Neon is draining you." Dalzollene frowns at the mention of her name, but he can't find it in him to speak against you. He knows it's true, even if his job means he has to spend most of it within a few feet of her.

"It is… tiring," he admits, trying to be subtle about his slight disdain for the woman. Dalzollene's eyes shut again as you run your fingers through his hair, his body relaxing further. "This is… nice," he murmurs, the last word coming out more as a hum than a spoken word. "Your hands…" His head tilts into your touch.

Feitan

Your hands are in his hair and he would love nothing more than to melt into you. But his temper is getting the better of him, and he’s trying all he can not to show you just how good it feels.

“Stop that,” he mumbles, a bit testily. “Stop what?” You ask, as if you don’t know perfectly well what Feitan was referring to.

Your hands remain in his black locks, running your fingers through the smooth strands. He huffs and turns his head away, trying his best to ignore the way gooseflesh rises on his arms every time your fingers comb through his hair. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?” He snaps back, but his voice lacks most of its usual sharpness. “You mean… playing with your hair?” You ask, feigning innocence.

Even now, as Feitan is glaring up at you like a petulant child, you continue to brush your hands through his hair. Feitans eyes flash, temper flaring like a candle in the wind. He glares up at you, teeth snapping in irritation.

"I told you to stop," he says, a hint of a warning in his voice. "Or are you really that intent on annoying me?"

Franklin

"I'm sorry for your loss..." you whisper as you run your hands through his short hair, trying to comfort him. Franklin can feel your fingers combing through his hair, gentle enough to leave an imprint on his soul. "Uvo-" He blinks, his brow furrowing as he remembers who you are mentioning. "You don’t need to apologize."

He lifts his head to look up at you, and his gaze softens. "You have nothing to apologize for." He leans his head back, moving closer to your hand like a cat craving attention.

"If I’m being completely honest," he admits, his voice almost as soft as a whisper, "I think Uvo deserved it." He grins, and his eyes crinkle in the corners. "Don't say that," you say softly, "he was your friend, you loved him." "He *was*." Franklin closes his eyes for a moment, then sighs as you continue to play with his hair. "He was a friend, and a partner." The words are almost a hiss, a whisper of a curse on his breath.

"And he lost that when he laid hands on you." Franklins eyes are open again, staring up at you. "I didn’t like him as much as you think I did." He says, his tone blunt.

"He was a good fighter, and a decent person, but…" He’s quiet for a moment, and his eyes lower as he looks at the floor. "He tried to touch you. How could I forgive something like that?"

Ging

For a moment, he is still like a statue, then his lips curled into an agitated snarl and he starts to pull away. “Enough!” He snaps, swatting your hand away. "Dammit old man lemme brush your hair-!" You snap back. “No! No, that’s—“

Gings words stop the moment he sees the expression on your face. He gulps the lump lodged in his throat down and his shoulders slump. “Fine,” he says, looking away from you. “You can brush it. Just— just make it quick…” While you work to untangle the mess that is Gings hair, the man grumbles and mutters to himself.

“I could’ve untangled it myself, you know,” he murmurs, his words a complaint more than a statement. “You didn’t need to do it for me.” "Stop pouting." "I am not pouting," Ging huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He glances sidelong at you, his expression a blend of annoyance and something else he doesn't want to admit.

"And for the record, I was perfectly capable of untangling it myself." "Uh-huh." With another grumble, Ging lets his head droop forward in defeat. He tries to steal a glance backwards at you through the tangled mess of dark hair before remembering that he's not supposed to look.

"How much longer is this going to take?... my neck is starting to ache..." "Till you fucking die." "That doesn't tell me anything," Ging mutters, his words clipped and quiet. The pain in his neck is starting to mount, but he's not quite sure how to ask you to be gentler. "Could you… try and be a bit… more… careful?" He winces, his shoulders involuntarily twitching as needles of pain shoot down his spine. "It… hurts…" "Manchild." "Women these day's, i tell ya."

Hanzo (you could totally play with his eyebrows tho, they look like lashes, what a queen honestly)

"Are you just bald or cant you grow hair at all?" You blurt out while you both cuddle. "Bald?" Hanzo flinches as you touch his head. There aren't words to describe the touch of your hand against his scalp. A shiver runs through his shoulders; he seems to be holding back, somehow. "Um, I…" He pauses, clearing his throat.

"I can grow it… if you wish." His voice is soft, like a child speaking up to their mother. "No." you laugh by the thought of him with hair. The look of relief that washes over Hanzo, you've never seen on anyone else. He sighs, shoulders relaxing into your touch.

"Good, I—" his voice cracks, almost as though he's holding back. "I'm not sure I want to grow it to be honest." "And I'm not sure you'd look good with it either." A surprised sound leaves him, almost like a breathless laugh. He shakes his head a little.

"I didn't think so either," he murmurs. "Not to mention! A good ninja never leaves behind traces!" he adds. He lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment, as if in thought. When he speaks again, his voice is low, a murmured admission. "I like it when you touch me." "Hmm?" You hum, "You do?" Hanzos breathing hitches, his chest rising quickly with each breath. “I…” his voice is breathless, a strangled whisper. “I do.”

He shivers again, and this time he doesn’t try to hold it back. He just closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

Hisoka

His head is tilted back slightly, leaning into your hand as you play with his hair. Like some touch-starved little dog, he can't help the low sound that slips out of his mouth.

"Ah," he gasps quietly as he looks up at you. And yet, the smirk at the corner of his lips betrays him. "OH-! You didn’t...." "... I didn't just what?" He asks, eyes full of mischief. "Moan like that you slut-!" That makes him laugh. A soft, sultry little chuckle that sends a shiver through his frame as he grins up at you. He's utterly shameless, and he knows it.  "And what if I did?" He coos, raising one eyebrow up at you. "Will you punish me, baby?" "Whore." A huff of air leaves his mouth, almost a sigh, but not quite.

"Maybe I am." He grins, not denying it. "And maybe I want you to do something about it." Hisokas breath is knocked out of his lungs as you pull his hair, and another soft, desperate sound slips out of his mouth. He can feel his body heating up, blood flushing under his skin as he lets out a little moan.

"Ahnn...!" He shivers, eyes squeezing shut as your hand is tangled in his locks. "That's it I'm done." You say with a straight face and leave. "Leaving me all hot and bothered?" He pouts. "How cruel."

It's a joke, of course— but he really is rather bothered.

Illumi

The gesture catches Illumi off guard, and he blinks in surprise. The feeling of your fingers in his hair is unlike anything he has known before. For a second, it's like the whole world has stopped in order for him to experience the sensation.

He has to resist the urge to lean into the touch. "Why are you touching my hair?" he asks. "Am I not allowed to?" Your hand stops in his hair, waiting for his answer. You never know what happens when you overstep the assassin's boundaries. Illumi almost stutters, but manages to respond in his usual even tone.

"You are allowed to do whatever you please," he murmurs. "It's just… I am unaccustomed to the sensation." "Did your mother never do your hair?"

"No." He doesn't look up as he says it, his eyes focused on the floor. "She didn't. I used to do my own hair from a very young age." "Not even maids?" “No.” The answer is short, sharp. Illumi takes a deep breath, forcing himself to stay still as you continue to play with his hair.

“Mother said that my last priority should be my hair, my first is to make the family proud and train. Maids weren't allowed to either talk to me or touch me.”

"So that's why it's so long." You laugh, trying to make a joke to lighten the mood. "What does that have to do with the length of my hair?" "....Nevermind"

Kite

"You…" Kites voice has a tinge of awe in it that only comes out when you are together. It is late. The sky is a canvas of stars. He sits next to you, so close that he can feel your warmth. His eyes are closed. Your hands glide through his hair, untangling some of its knots with a gentle, soothing touch.

"You would…" A brief pause, as if he cannot bring himself to ask. "...stay here with me?"

"Looking at bugs for a whole month or longer? Yep, with you always." You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder. A huff of laughter escapes him. As always, he is powerless against the light you bring to his mind, the warmth you give him when you are near. "A month…" he murmurs, repeating your words. The corner of his mouth quirks up in the smallest smile.

"You'd spend a month in a forest watching bugs with me?" "Romantic." His smile widens into an actual smirk. As he glances at you, Kite cannot help but think that you look the most beautiful when you are like this— lighthearted, carefree, at peace. He is entranced by the way you look in the moonlight. "Romantic, hm?" He shifts a little closer, until his knee is grazing yours. "...you’d think watching bugs with me is romantic."

"I can imagine better things, but I won't complain." Kite's smirk only grows. He is close enough now that his body is almost flush with yours. He reaches a hand up, resting it against your waist, tugging you just a little closer. His voice is low, deep, but there is an element of playfulness to his expression as he looks at you.

“You won’t complain?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow at you in a challenge, "That's a new one." "EY-!"

Knov

Knov doesn’t react when you reach for his hair, though his body jolts ever so faintly as you touch him, his eyes staring up at you the entire time. "Ew-!" you withdraw your hand.

His voice is very different when he replies to your exclamation, though, his voice taking on a hint of annoyance. “What?” He asks, brows furrowing. "The gel, it's ew." You scrunch up your nose. Knov's expression is a mixture of surprise and slight embarrassment. He looks like a puppy being told off for eating its owner’s shoes. “The gel isn’t supposed to be touched. It— it’s supposed to help control it.”

He reaches up and tries to pat his hair back down, which is only slightly successful, with a few black wisps falling back down to cover his forehead once again. “It isn’t supposed to… feel like that,” he says, still mumbling to himself, trying to fix his hair back into the pristine fashion it had been a moment previous. Then he looks up at you, eyes searching for approval.

“Better?” "When you wash it later, I wanna play with it." Knov's face turns a slight red color at your request. He’s still fiddling with his hair, trying to get it to behave. “You… want to play with it?” He repeats, like he can’t believe his ears. "Mhm!" His face heats up once more, the red flush spreading to his ears. “Ah…” His fingers stop trying to fix his hair, leaving it messy and unkempt. He looks a little disheveled, especially when compared to the perfect image he always has in public. “…sure.” He says, as if he can’t refuse anything you say.

Knuckle

"It's surprising how it stays up..." you mumble in slight amazement. His hair is surprisingly soft under your touch. He lets out a gasp at the motion, almost like a puppy who wasn’t expecting to be pet. "It.. it does that," he stutters out, face going pink. Knuckle is utterly flustered, but far from annoyed at the touch. "I… I don't know how it stays up."

"...you style it every morning tho." "Ah… I…" he falters, realizing that he's been found out.

"I use a little bit of hair gel," he admits, like he'd just confessed a terrible sin. Knuckle looks up at you through his eyelashes, face still flushed. "More like a whole container." Knuckle flushes a deeper shade of red. His mouth opens for a moment, wordless with protest, then he sighs and looks down at the floor.

"Fine," he mutters, his hands clenching into fists. "I may use a bit more than just "a little bit" of hair gel…but only because my hair keeps falling back down otherwise!" He adds, a slight defensive edge to his voice. "And if I'm not always perfectly presentable.. I-"  he falters, biting his tongue before he says, "I just…" He looks down, refusing to meet your eyes.

Finally, he looks back up at you and admits, "I can't look anything but perfect when I'm next to you. Not even a single hair can be out of place." "Awww baby." Knuckle blushes at the pet name, but doesn’t protest when you begin playing with his hair. He even leans into your touch, craving your closeness as if it was the only thing that would make him whole.

Kortopi

"It's so tangled..." you mumble as you brush his hair, the small male sitting between your legs. Kortopis eyes flutter shut, breath hitching as you brush through his long hair. He tries his best to keep still, a slight shiver rolling through his body. He's never been a fan of people touching him so intimately. With you it's a different story tho.

He'll hold still as long as you like. “Please be gentle. I don’t… I’m not used to this.” He whispers the words, eyes still closed.

The feeling of your fingers stroking through his hair and across his scalp is almost dizzying. Each brush of your touch sends a shiver down his spine, his breaths leaving his parted lips in soft gasps. "Am I too rough? I'm sorry." You quickly apologize. “No, no.” Kortopi is quick to shake his head at that, a hand lifting to reach hesitantly for your leg.

“It’s just… it’s a lot.” He mumbles, eyes fluttering open. He looks up at you, cheeks reddening a bit. “It feels nice. Keep going.” He can’t explain the feeling he gets from you just playing with his hair— the way that the slightest brush of your fingers makes his stomach clench and his heart flutter.

No one has been this gentle with him before. No one ever bothered to look at him with any form of compassion in their gaze.

He leans into your touch, his grip on your leg tightening when you scratch ever so slightly across his scalp. "I don't wanna overwhelm you." “It’s okay,” he says quietly, almost breathless. The feeling of your fingers against his hair, your touch against his skin, it almost makes him dizzy. He reaches his hand up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist as he guides your hand back down, silently asking you to keep going. He closes his eyes again, leaning against your leg.

Kurapika

A shiver passes over Kurapika, but he does not look up from the pages of his book. "You're playing with my hair," he notes, a simple observation. "I am," you say as your fingers slide through the strands. You twist a few around your fingers and pull slightly. He tries to keep his focus on his book, but the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his hair is quite distracting. You feel more than see the effort Kurapika makes to keep his attention on the words in his book, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.

"You're making it difficult to read," He says, but he makes no move to pull away from you. "That's the point," you reply, a light chuckle in your voice. Kurapika grumbles and makes an attempt at turning the page, only for one of your hands to tug on his hair again.

This time, he makes a soft noise and sets his book down, closing his eyes and sighing. "Why do you do this to me?" His voice sounds almost mournful, but there is a sense of joy in his words. It is almost as if he were grateful for the situation he has found himself in.

His hair is tousled from your ministrations, messy and disheveled. It is a sight that is both attractive and adorable. "Because I like to see you this way," you reply, still lightly pulling on his hair. The action makes Kurapika shiver. He turns to look up at you, a mixture of defeat and happiness in his eyes at the same time.

"This way?" He repeats, voice wavering faintly, "Disheveled? Frantic? Utterly distracted?" You nod. "It reminds me how cute you are." Kurapika lets out a huff, his cheeks growing a little warmer.  He tries to school his features into a frown, but he can't help the corners of his lips from twitching upwards.

Leorio

The touch of your fingers through his unruly black locks soothes Leorios mind. He leans into your touch, the tension seeping from his muscles, and his eyes flutter shut. He lets out a low, almost inaudible sigh, a mixture of exhaustion and relief. He's silent for a long moment, simply enjoying the gentle ministrations your fingers give to the hair around his face.

Finally, he speaks, his voice low and quiet, as if not to disrupt the peace that's settled over the two of you. "You are too good to me," he whispers, his eyes still closed. He slowly reaches up to take your hand. He pulls it from his head and instead places a firm, lingering kiss upon your knuckles.

His thumb caresses your skin, the pad of it tracing little patterns against the back of your hand.  "You've been so stressed lately so i-" "You are much too generous to me," Leorio mutters into your skin. His grip on your hand is tight, as if he's worried you'll pull away.

His eyes flick open, and he looks up to meet your gaze. "You do not have to be this kind to me. Yet you are. You are too kind, my God," he repeats, the words quiet and reverent. He lifts himself up, resting on his elbow as he looks down at you. He brings your hand to his chest, holding it just over his heart. His free hand reaches to cup your face, his touch gentle yet firm.

He brings his face down to your ear, and the sound of his next words are as soft as a whisper. "Why do you have to do this to me? Why do you have to be so damn good?"

Menthuthuyoupi

You stare up at the big guy, "can I try something?" Menthuthuyoupi blinks, then gives a firm nod.

No matter what you say or ask for, he will do it without question or complaint. He has been yours since the first moment he laid eyes on you. "Can i play with your hair?" "My hair?"

Menthuthuyoupis voice is quiet, bewildered. Never in his long weeks of life has anyone asked to touch his hair before. "You… you can." He tries to keep himself still, but his body is tensed up. It takes all of his willpower to keep from leaning into your touch.

"Does it… is it good?" He can't help but ask. "Does it feel strange?" Yes. Yes, it is. "Yes," he says bluntly. "Didn't even know i had hair." "What?!" A small huff of irritation. Menthuthuyoupi shakes his head. "Now I know have hair." His hand reaches up to touch at one of the red locks, wrapping it around his finger and giving it a small, harsh little tug.

"I've just never…" he continues, pausing as if he isn't sure how to say what he means. "I've never been taking care of it." "Figured, it's greasey as hell."

Meruem

His eyes snap up to your face as you drum your fingers against his skull. He frowns for a moment— the barest twitch of his lips down.

He doesn't quite register what you are doing, just that your fingers are against his skin. Meruem is silent for a single heartbeat, and then he tilts his head into you, leaning into the touch. That touch makes Meruem pause, tilting his head back to give you a look, one corner of his lip lifting in an almost smirk.

"And what makes you think you can do such a thing to me?" Meruem asks. His voice has a hint of challenge to it, like he's testing you. "I just can." You smirk, knocking on his head. Meruem's smirk grows, and he lets out a soft laugh. There's no sarcasm in his voice, just a hint of amused disbelief.

"And that makes you think you're above me?" He asks, the challenge growing with his smile.

"Above the great king? Everything of course." Another laugh. Meruem shakes his head, letting out a breath as though he can't believe what he's hearing. He's not bothered or annoyed— far from it. Amusement is written all over his face as he looks up at you with a wide, wolfish grin. "You think you're that powerful, do you?" He muses, still with that hint of challenge in his voice. "My love for you is." That makes Meruem pause, looking up at you for a moment. That hint of challenge turns to surprise, and then that surprise fades into a soft, warm look. His smirk is gone as quickly as it came, replaced with a small smile.

"Is what?" He asks, voice much softer. "Love? The strange pulling in ones heart? What we talked about?" "What we talked about, yes." "I doubt your pulling compares to mine."

Morel

"Ey old man! Come here!" "Eh? Old man?" He sputters as if the very notion offends him."I am not that old," Morel protests. "How old do you believe I am?"

"100?" "One hundred?" Morel stares at you incredulously. His eyes narrow. His shoulders tense up. For a short moment, it looks as if he’s holding back a snort.

"You think I am a hundred years old?" "You have white hair." You run your fingers through his hair as he sits down. "That does not mean I am old," Morel saya. "It just... means my hair is white. It always was." He falls silent, crossing his arms over his chest in a huff. "You wouldn’t ask others with white hair their age, would you?" "I was just joking." The admission seems to soothe his wounded ego a little bit. "You could have used a more believable number,” he mutters, but there’s hardly any heat in the words.

"For your information, I’m not a hundred. I’m not even close to that old." He huffs, rising to his feet and dusting off the dirt from his clothes. "Not that it matters either way,” he adds, giving you a sidelong glance out of the corner of his eye. "I don’t suppose my age matters to you, my love," Morel says, the reverent title slipping easily from his tongue.

“I could be a hundred or thousand, immortal or not, and still,” he stops suddenly, eyes fixed on your face as the words die on his tongue. For a moment, he swallows, as if suddenly unable to find the words. “I would still be yours...and i know you like em older anyways.” "Ey-!"

Neferpitou

"No one? Ever?" You asked in disbelief. Neferpitou leans ever so slightly into your touch, enjoying the soft feeling of your fingers against their hair. No one else has ever done this.

"No," they murmur, "never like this. No one ever touched me like this." "What a shame...it's pretty." The corners of Neferpitous mouth twitch, something like pride swelling in their chest at your compliment. Your simple words mean everything to them. Praise from you is more valuable than all the riches in the whole universe.

"You flatter me," they say quietly, although there's no attempt to deny it. Not only is their hair pretty, but so are they, and they know it— but they also know only you can tell them that. "Hmm, maybe." your lips crack a smile. Neferpitou stares up at you, eyes burning like fireworks. They're not blind— they know you're teasing them. Your smugness is something they adore. All of your expressions are so unique, from the look on your face when you're fighting a battle, to the curve of your lips when you smile, all the way to how your eyes crinkle at the corners when you laugh. Humans are interesting. You especially.

They know exactly what you mean, even if they're not willing to admit it. Neferpitous expression is mischievous, their tone bordering on dangerous. They won't admit it out loud, but they do love playing with fire. Especially when it comes to you. You're a feisty little inferior species.

"Don't smirk, my human," they murmur, leaning closer until they're a mere breath away from you. "We both know I'm more than just pretty."

Netero (me and my eyebrow or bald jokes in this post are wild)

You can't help but feel slightly upset, "Damn...why'd you cut it?" A soft sigh escapes him as you ask why he cut his hair.

“It would've gotten in the way, and it became difficult to manage,” he murmurs in response, his eyes still closed as he drinks in the feeling of you touching him. “Plus… it will grow back,” he says. For a few moments, Netero remains still, enjoying the feeling of your fingers in his hair, until he opens his eyes and looks upward at you.

“Are you really that fond of it long?” He asks,  in his voice, as if he’s worried he disappointed you by cutting his hair in the first place. "You could've at least cut your eyebrows." You add with a smirk. Netero rolls his eyes dramatically, but even the small action isn’t enough to disguise the soft, flustered look on his face. “You know I can’t do that,” he says, but there’s mirth behind his words. “Unless you want me to run around with no eyebrows at all.”

"That would be a sight." You imagine. “I’d look absolutely ridiculous,” he says, but the way he’s grinning gives him away. "And you think you looked better before, old man?" Netero shoots an unimpressed look at you, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he knows you’re only teasing him. “You’d rather I looked like a caveman?” He asks, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge. "You already d-" Netero cuts you with an indignant scoff at your comment and, for a moment, looks as if he’s about to protest, but then he stops, a small smile twisting his lips.

“Oh, quiet,” he says, his tone holding no bite. “I may be older than rocks, but I’m allowed to care about how I look.”

Nobunaga

"Washing is an option, yk?" "I know that," he mumbles, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. He shivers slightly under your palm, his body as sensitive to your touch as a rose to sunlight. "I've been busy," he clarifies as you play with his hair, trying to come up with a good reason to escape your chiding. "I don't have time to bathe, is all."  He lets out a sigh, leaning into your touch like a kitten against a hand.

"And it's not that bad," he says, though his voice falters slightly— he knows he's lying. "Yeah sure." You smirk. "I've been sweating!" Nobunaga protests, as if that will solve everything.

"That's not my fault." He mutters, but when you tug lightly on his hair, he shivers again. "Relax." You calm him down. "I can't relax," he hisses, his eyes snapping open to glare up at you. "Not when you're—" He cuts himself off, his gaze suddenly shifting away as his cheeks flush. "I'll wash it for you later, okay?" taking care of a mess like this men is actually fun activities in your book. Especially when you can see him flustered. It takes a moment for his brain to process your words.

Nobunaga blinks, lifting his head from your hand to stare up at you, his mouth falling open.

"You—" a beat, "—you'll wash my hair?" You can practically see the smoke coming from his head. Nobunaga blinks, once, his mouth slowly falling open again as he processes what you'd said. His throat works silently as he grapples with the situation.

"You…" the word comes out faint, almost a whisper, as he tries to grasp what you're offering. "You'd… wash my hair?" he finally manages to get out, his face already starting to tint pink. "Yes?" "I—" he starts, hesitating as he tries to form a sentence, his thoughts flying to every possible meaning and implication of your words. Finally, after a moment of silence, his face completely flushed red, he manages to utter a response.

"I'd like that," he whispers, voice barely more than a sigh, though his words speak volumes as to how badly he wants you to do this.

Pariston

"It's so smooth?" It sounded more like a question than a statement. With all the products he uses you were almost sure his hair was like hay. He leans into your fingers, closing his eyes, a satisfied hum escaping his lips.

"Of course it is," he mumbles back, pride and arrogance dripping from every word. "After all," he continues. "I keep it that way for you. Gotta look good for my girl." His head tilts into your hand, seeking more of your touch. You can't help but roll your eyes at him. "What?" Pariston asks, his eyes opening. He lifts his head just to look at you, a single eyebrow raised.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, I'm being sincere," he says, tone a mix of amusement and mock-offence. "Since when." "Oh, always." He says, sitting up a little straighter. He leans back on one of his hands and grins. "You just don't notice because you never pay attention to me," he retorts. "I think..." He speaks slowly, fingers dancing over the top your other hand. "I think you're just cruel to me. That's what it is," he says decisively.

"You have no idea," he continues, his tone going from teasing to serious for a moment, "how much I adore you, and yet you treat me so callously." He fake pouts, a frown on his face, but you can see his eyes are dancing with mischief. "It's very insensitive of you." He admonishes you, his fingers moving over your skin.

"You should feel very guilty for treating the person who loves you more than anything like this," he admonishes, though there is a hint of a smile on his lips.

"And the person that finances your very being."

Phinks

"No," Phinks insists, pulling a little away from you. He scowls, crossing his arms at his chest. "Just… No." He won't let you ruffle his golden locks. "Why?" You whine slightly. "I don't want you to ruin it," he protests, running his fingers over his hair. He glares at you as his perfectly styled locks get mussed. "It takes hours to make it look good." Phinks frowns, his hair tousled from your touch. He combs his fingers through the messy blonde strands, trying in vain to return them to some semblance of order.

"I don't understand why you always have to touch my hair," he complains. "You're just like a child, always grasping at what the world has to offer without regard to the consequences," he says, still combing through his hair and trying to keep it away from you. "You have the impulse control of a three-year-old."

"But you love me." You smile innocently. Phinks can't help but soften a little at your words. He lets out a huff, his shoulders slumping as he gives up on his hair. He can never resist you.

"Yes, I love you," he admits, running a hand through his hair one last time. "Now, don't ruin my hair or I'll punish you." He doesn't sound all that threatening. In fact, you can imagine a hint of a smile flickering at his lips as he glares at you.

"If you make me look awful, there will be consequences," he says, though you suspect he's more likely to give you a kiss than actually punish you. He lets out a quiet sigh, running his hand through his tousled hair one final time before admitting defeat. He's fighting a losing battle— his hair is messy and sticking up at all sorts of ungraceful angles, and he's only going to undo any progress he makes by touching it. With a huff, he gives up, looking back at you.

"You're going to be the death of me one of these days, you know that?"

Pokkle

Every time you even think of coming near his hair, he looks up at you like a frightened doe. "I'll bite your hand, you know," he adds, though it is a very empty threat. "Why not? Shy?" You tease. "I–It's a mess." Pokkle protests, lifting a hand up and attempting to tame some of the messy locks of messy hair. He quickly gets frustrated however, huffing as it just flies right back in his face. "Besides… You'll mess it up…" "Can I at least brush it? Make it better?" Pokkle bites the inside of his cheek, looking down as if contemplating.

He remains like that for a few moments, thinking it over. He can't deny he wants you to touch his hair. That much is obvious. He's simply very stubborn, and won't say it.

He mumbles something under his breath that sounds vaguely like a reluctant yes. He turns around, presenting his back to you. His hair hangs messily over his shoulders.

His spine is ramrod straight, almost painfully so, and he’s clearly trying not to look over his shoulder at you. He's expecting his hair to be pulled, not brushed. He stays completely silent once you begin to brush his hair. He is still as stone, like a statue, but you can almost hear the sound of his mind racing even when you touch the brush to his hair.

He doesn’t look at you the entire time. In fact, he appears to be trying so desperately not to look at you that it’s like he’s fighting a losing battle with himself.

"Good?" Pokkle is quiet for a few seconds. He seems to have to collect himself, closing his eyes in an attempt to process what's just happened.

Finally, he nods, answering your question in a single word. "Good."

Razor

Razor doesn't question your request for a moment. If you want to, he will allow it. His head dips down, allowing you better access.

"You may. It's yours." "...its so short." you mumble. "I never let it grow." Razor responds, then lets out a quiet little hum as you play with the strands of his hair. It is indeed short, just barely long enough to play with. His neck twists a little, tilting to the side as you ruffle his hair. Razor is surprisingly pliant at your ministrations.

"You like to play with it, I take it?" He asks, a touch of amusement in his tone. "Meh, it's alright." Razor lets out a quiet scoff, the corner of his lips twitching.

"Only 'alright'," he mutters, but there's a hint of a smile in his words. "Just say you like it." He leans closer to you, head tilting down to look at you. "I know you like it," he teases, the corners of his mouth twitching. "You love to play with this short hair. Admit it."

"Hmm,...no." Razor snorts. "Why not?" He murmurs, leaning in a little more, so his head is resting against your leg. "It's short and soft. I can tell you like it, don't lie." Razor lets out another quiet scoff, though it is not meant as rude. He is too comfortable to care how he sounds. "Your hand is still in my hair," he whispers, tilting his head a little more to give you better access.

"Admit it, you like it." He smirks.

Shaiapouf

Shaiapoufs head is leaned against you, his eyes closed as your fingers run through his golden locks. He shudders at your touch, a low hum of satisfaction rumbling in his chest like a distant storm. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he finally opens his eyes and speaks.

"What are you doing?" He asks, voice heavy with exhaustion and contentment. "Hmm, nothing." Shaiapouf raises an eyebrow, glancing up at you from his place beside you. He smiles a little mischievously as he leans into your touch. "Just playing with my hair for no reason, then?" He teases. Even through the weariness in his voice, there's a hint of mirth there, like he wants to see how you'll respond. "Yeah." "Liar,"

He laughs, reaching up and grabbing your wrist, moving you hand back to his hair. He gently guides your fingers through his locks once again, his eyes closing, a soft sigh falling from his lips. "You just want an excuse to touch me, don't you?" Shaiapouf rolls over, laying himself against your side, head resting on your shoulder, his body pressed against you like a shadow.

He slings an arm around your middle, pulling himself close. "Gods, you're warm." He mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Shaiapouf hums contentedly as he cuddles against you, feeling the heat of your body seeping into his skin. He pulls you closer, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly.

"You're soft," he murmurs, his breath warm and ticklish against your cheek. "So soft..."

Shalnark

The feeling of you sitting in his lap makes Shalnark hyper aware of you. He tries to stay focused on the computer screen, he really does, but it’s hard to when you’re playing with his hair.  “What are you doing…?” He asks, swallowing thickly as his eyes dart from the computer to your hand in his hair. "Playing, like you." You mumble, keep playing. He lets out a slight huff, but there’s no annoyance in it.

“Are you trying to make it difficult for me to concentrate?” He asks, giving you a light smirk. “Not that I would want you to stop,” he adds as an afterthought, his voice growing softer.

Despite his words, Shalnark still continues to try and focus on the computer screen rather than on how it feels when your fingers glide through his hair. After a few moments, it becomes too distracting. Shalnark lets out a small huff, his fingers resting on the keyboard, unmoving. He turns his head a bit to look at you. A light flush has dusted his cheeks; his gaze almost seems a bit petulant, but there’s no real annoyance in it.

“You are doing this on purpose.” "Noooo." Shalnark gives you an unconvinced look.

“Liar.” He mumbles, tilting his head back a bit. The bare expanse of his neck shines in the cold light of the computer screen. His eyes flutter closed, and he lets out a soft sigh as he feels your fingers running through his hair again.

“I know you’re too smart to do this unintentionally.”  Despite his words, he can’t hide the way he relaxes with your hand on him.

Shoot

Shoots eyes slip shut as you touch his hair. It's been a long time since he's felt the gentle caress of your fingers against his scalp. You would think this would be enough to soothe him, but his chest still rises and falls quickly, his breaths uneven and choppy in his chest.

"Thank you," he stutters, trying to control his breathing. "Your touch feels like paradise," he whispers, almost so quiet you can't hear it.

"Missed it?" You laugh as you keep braiding his hair. He nods, feeling the gentle tug of your fingers on his hair. Shoot opens his eyes and looks up at you, his gaze unfocused. His head is foggy and hazy, his mind slipping away as you continue to braid his hair. "Yes," he admits, voice quiet.

"Yes, I missed it." "So...the mission?" Shoots expression darkens a little when you mention the mission. The mere mention of those words turns his mind to memories he would rather forget. "It was complicated," he confesses, watching your fingers move through his hair. "The mission…"

He pauses, his eyes growing a little distant. "...It did not go as well as planned." "...oh." "It was…" He falters. Something in Shoot shifts, a change in the air; as if the very atmosphere around him has grown darker. His mind drifts back to the mission, replaying the events of the past few days.

"There were... issues," he states, trying to keep his voice steady. "Obstacles. Setbacks. It was not the success we were hoping for."

Uvogin

Uvogin ducks his head to avoid the brush once again, a quiet scoff leaving him.

"I can brush it myself," he mutters, and reaches up. His hair is tangled and messy after spending most of the day without his hair being brushed — but he doesn't like having others run their hands through his hair for him. He can do it himself.  "Do you even know what a brush is?" you ask as a joke. Uvogin narrows his eyes at the words, a quiet huff leaving him.

"Of course I know what a brush is," he says, and snatches the hairbrush from you, holding it with an almost possessive grip. "I'm not an animal." Uvogin mutters something to himself— probably something about you being annoying— but he sits down and starts to run the brush through his long locks.

He looks like he is struggling. A lot. But he won't ask for your help. His pride won't allow it. "I can he-" "No."It's a short, quick answer. Uvogin immediately shuts down any offer you may have had before you can even finish speaking. He's stubborn, and he doesn't want to ask for your help— even though he very clearly needs it.

It's a sight to behold, the brush sticking in his hair and him struggling to brush it through. You walk up and hug his back. Uvogin stiffens at your sudden embrace, but he doesn't try to push you away. He continues to struggle with the brush, until he finally— begrudgingly— lowers his hands.

"Fine," he says, and it's clear it pains him to admit defeat. "You can do it."

Wing

Wing practically melts under your touch. His head rests against you like a pillow, and he hums in contentment as you play with his hair. He is warm, his chest rising and falling in a deep, even rhythm. "Tough day?" A heavy sigh escapes Wing. He nods, just a fraction, his face pressed into your chest.

"Yes." His voice is quiet, almost as if he doesn’t want to speak too loudly, in case it breaks this perfect moment. He pauses, hesitating, his eyes closing as he listens to your heartbeat.

"You make it better," he confesses, the words whispered into your skin like a secret. His breath is gentle, a soft sigh falling from his lips as he relishes being this close to you. After a few moments, he shifts, wrapping his arms around your waist in a hug, and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"Being with you is my favorite part of the day," he admits quietly, breathing deeply of your scent. "Then I'm glad..." Wing nods his head, nuzzling into your chest a little more. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice barely loud enough for even you to hear. His body is flush with yours, his chest pressed against you. Every breath he takes, every rise and fall of his rib cage, you can feel against your own skin. Wings arms gently tighten around you, his grip almost desperate, like he’d die if he was torn away from you. "Love you too..." Wings hold on you tightens when you return the sentiment. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck and lets out a shaky breath.

“Say it again,” he whispers, a hint of pleading in his tone. The words are uttered as a near demand.

Forgot to answer it like an idiot omfg

[c-y-g-m-c-o]

Inhuman looking characters have no right to be so damn fucking hot

[bwabys-scenarios]

Could I get a yandere meruem x reader on her period? Tyy <3

Prized Possession(NSFW)

Yandere!Meruem x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: I wasn’t sure exactly what you wanted so I did a lil nsfw fic, but if you want something SFW/headcanons/etc then please feel free to send another request with specification ^^

warnings: fingering, pussy eating, dubcon, public sex, period sex, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, Pitou treats you like their queen and pampers you, Meruem is HORNY, obsessive and possessive behavior

Yandere NSFW: @lightshowerrr @highbats69 @jungtoast @nenggie @aliceattheart

If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information in my pinned post then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!

It had been two days since Meruem had tightened the metaphorical collar around your neck, keeping you stationed on his lap at all times of the day. His nose stayed buried in your neck, and despite your cries to at least do it behind close doors, his fingers stayed buried in your pussy, lightly pumping into you.

“Shh, shh, my princess. This is for your own good, so don’t complain.”

He curled his fingers in your cunt, pressing down on your abdomen and humming lightly. “Soon… I can smell it.”

Meruem had never been the type to keep you too far out of his reach, but lately his version of love had been absolutely smothering. It wasn’t always revolved around sex, sometimes he would force you into the little nest of blankets and pillows he built for you, or hold you so tight you’d have to remind him of his strength while gasping for air.

He couldn’t stop purring as he ran his hand over your abdomen, continuing to say how “close it was”. You didn’t even want to know what he was talking about, but by the way you started to feel kind of icky and tired, you were beginning to understand.

And you were terrified.

Now, you liked Meruem. He wasn’t as cruel as others made him out to be, and he sure did have quite the soft spot for you, but he still was an inhuman monster that ate humans. And because of his inhumanity, his knowledge of the human body was limited, besides what he read from medical text books and the own way his semi-human instincts reacted to the changes in your hormones.

And that’s how you found yourself being awoken in the middle of the night to Meruem lapping at your cunt, a dull ache in your abdomen.

“Ugh… Meruem…”

He glanced up, his hands on your thighs. “My princess… did I disturb your sleep?”

Although his words sounded sweet, there was a hint of mischief in his eyes. If he wanted you to stay asleep, he could have made sure you did, but instead he decided to gently push at your abdomen as he continued to gorge on your pussy.

It was then you noticed the red on his mouth, and fit a fleeting second you feared the pain you were experiencing was due to him LITERALLY eating your pussy.

But no, it wasn’t anything like that. With another soft push on your abdomen, you watched as blood dribbled into his mouth.

“I knew it was close… how I’ve waited for this time of the month…”

You whined in embarrassment and pleasure, gripping the sheets as you felt his tongue push into your sensitive pussy. “P-please… too much…”

He didn’t stop, and you knew better than to push him away or complain too much. Meruem would never hurt you in anyway, but you knew that no amount of pushing or complaining would make him stop. It would just make him purr and push harder, just enough to put you on the edge of pain and pleasure. A vague discomfort, but not enough to hurt.

So instead of pushing or whining, you whimpered softly, gently stroking his face. He quite enjoyed that, his eyes narrowing in contentment. “Such a good girl… there you go, almost there…”

Meruem took great pride in his ability to make you cum within minutes of being between your legs. He was a natural from the beginning. Of course he was, he was king.

He stayed there, between your legs for what seemed like hours, each orgasm helping to relive the ache in your abdomen. Once he was thoroughly satisfied, he moved up to your face, rutting his hips against yours.

At this point he looked almost feral, his eyes peering down at you as his thick cock rested on your belly. He rubbed it against you, growling as he lowered his blood stained face to yours.

“Kiss me.”

It was only a for a second, but your hesitation caused him to growl lowly. “I won’t repeat myself.”

He gripped your chin, squeezing just enough to make you uncomfortable. You whimpered softly as you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his.

As soon as Meruem felt the touch of your lips, he relaxed. It wasn’t long before you felt his cock prodding at your pussy, and his tongue prodding at your lip.

You really didn’t want to taste your own blood, but you also didn’t want to be scolded, so you obediently opened your lips, just as his cock sank into your bloody cunt.

He allowed you to whine, for your nails to scratch his back as he began to fuck into you. Meruem had the power to stop you whenever he wanted, but he didn’t. How kind he was to you, how lenient he was with his little pet.

“Shh… be a good pet and take it.”

Meruem preferred to be as close to you as possible when fucking you. His instincts told him to keep you pinned down and still, to breed you when he started smelling the sweet pheromones of your menstrual cycle.

Nights like this were exhausting. He needed you so badly, his brain filled with the need to breed you until your belly was heavy with his seed. It didn’t help that you were crying out and moaning beneath him in this sensitive state of yours.

How he loved the sounds you made, the cries and whimpers, the moans and whines. You really were his little princess, the perfect pet to play with in his spare time.

But… at the same time, you were much more than that. When the royal guard suggested he start spreading his seed among the many human women at his disposal, he became angry and almost… guilty. He didn’t want to impregnate some woman he didn’t know, he wanted you and you alone.

Perhaps he did love you. He had read many books, some being novels on romance. Meruem didn’t really understand it at first, but after meeting you he just couldn’t get you out of his head. It was an unhealthy obsession, you were supposed to be a way to waste away his spare time, but now he was beyond attached.

As he filled your womb once again with his cum, he placed a hand over your belly. “My little mate… yes, that’s what you are, my mate…”

He lightly traced circles in your belly with his finger, his eyes soft. The urge to mark you and cover you in his scent was overwhelming. He felt so possessive over you, even though you only interacted with his Royal Guards, he still felt the need to make sure everyone knew you were his.

As your blood soaked into the soft sheets of your shared bed, he finally pulled out, humming softly. “Pitou.”

They were by his side in seconds, not reacting at all to the scene in front of them. Meruem pulled you into his lap, petting you as if you were his exhausted puppy, rather than the woman he deemed his mate.

“Bathe her, dress her, then feed her.”

Without hesitation, they nodded. “Yes, King Meruem.”

You whined softly as Pitou carried you in their arms. One hand was on the soft curve of your ass, and the other was in your hair, soothing you softly. You were their queen, someone Meruem ordered they worship just as much as they worshipped him, so they did just that.

“My queen, I see you’ve come into heat.”

Pitou set you by the bathtub, filling it up with warm water as they used a rag to wipe away the blood from your thighs. After all the access blood was gone, they placed you in the warm water. “Heat..? I guess… that’s what you would call it.”

You relaxed as Pitou washed your body, their hands grazing your soft breasts and thighs. “It seems King Meruem has successfully bred you. It’s an honor to bear the King��s young.”

You watched as Pitou caressed your belly, right over your womb. You weren’t sure how they would know you were pregnant, surely there was no way you were already. “The King’s semen is potent, you’ll be with child soon.”

Ah, that explained it. They just assumed since you and Meruem had sex, that there was no way you weren’t pregnant. You’d laid with Meruem several times before, but this time… he was really adamant about filling you up.

Pitou rinsed you before scooping you up as if you were just a kitten. They dried you off, grabbing a pair of panties for you with the pad already applied. It was a bit humiliating how much the royal guards babies you, but you couldn’t do much about it. Once you were dressed, Pitou purred softly, butting their head against your hand.

Meruem didn’t allow for much affection, but you did. You smelled so much like him, and as the queen you were the second best, and the only one other than Meruem that Pitou would be so docile for. “Mmph, my queen…”

You let them carry you back to your chambers, where Pouf and Youpi were waiting with a meal, prepared just for you. Meruem sat on your now freshly cleaned bed, reading a book. He looked up for only a second, giving you a knowing smile.

“Eat, you need your energy. You’re losing blood, so it’s iron rich.”

You sat down, Pitou laying their head in your lap as you ate. You were surprised at how lenient Meruem was with Pitou, but the ant just saw Pitou as nothing more than your pet, and his servant. The cat like ant purred and mewed softly as you petted their head. It was a bit strange, but it was the only physical contact you got outside of Meruem. The other two royal guards didn’t seem to like you as much, more like they put up with your presence to keep their king happy.

After you finished your meal, Meruem set his book down. “Come.”

Pitou set up immediately so you could follow Meruem’s orders. You stood, wobbling slightly, causing Pitou to shoot up and accompany you. They acted like a mama cat, grooming your hair as they guided you to Meruem’s side.

Pitou set you down, the kneeled next to Meruem as he pulled you into his lap. “Sleep, you need rest. Do not think this was the only breeding session, this process will happen until your heat is over.”

You knew that Meruem was a lot of things, but he certainly wasn’t a liar, and he didn’t over exaggerate. If he said you needed rest, you would.

You slid your hair on his chest, closing your eyes as he ran his hand over your hair.

You weren’t looking forward to this week at all.

[dioslesbianwife]

How would the adult trio from hunter x hunter + kurapica and meruem react to there partner being kars can be gn

(kars the ultimate life from after their defeated landing in their world )

How would they react in the beginning meeting then fighting them and becoming partners with the ultimate life from from a different universe 🌌

that’s an interesting idea- thank you for requesting and hope you enjoy!!

hxh men with a powerful non human reader

Chrollo Lucilfer

Chrollo is endlessly fascinated by you. The idea of an ultimate life form, immortal, adaptable, and completely outside the known world, is exactly the kind of thing that would fuel his curiosity. He doesn’t just want to observe; he wants to understand you on an intimate level.

He’s intrigued by your sheer superiority over every living being. He views it as a philosophical question: if one exists beyond mortality and weakness, what is their purpose? He might even try to debate existentialism with you.

Stealing your abilities is impossible, which makes him both frustrated and even more obsessed. If you can manipulate your own body on a cellular level, how do Nen abilities even affect you? He sees you as a mystery to solve.

There’s a certain reverence in the way he interacts with you- not quite worship, but he does see you as something beyond human. He doesn't want to control you, but he does want to bind you to him through interest and companionship rather than force.

If you display cruelty or a lack of empathy for humans, he’d be completely unbothered. He understands the mindset of someone who sees humans as lesser beings, after all, he sees most people as pieces in his grander vision rather than individuals.

On the other hand, if you retain some level of fondness for humanity, he finds that even more compelling. It would remind him of himself, caught between his cold-blooded nature and his fascination with life’s fleeting beauty.

Hisoka Morow

Instantly obsessed. You’re strong? Immortal? Capable of adapting to any attack? Oh, he’s losing his mind with excitement.

He spends a lot of time testing your limits, trying different attacks, pushing you into situations where you have to fight seriously, just to see what you can do. It doesn’t matter how many times he loses; the thrill of seeing you evolve and counter him only makes him want you more.

Hisoka is a mix of lust, admiration, and competition when it comes to you. He doesn’t care about your origins, he just wants to experience you in your fullest form. If you indulge his battles, he’s practically devoted to you.

He teases you constantly, calling you his "perfect toy" or his "little demigod." He’s intrigued by whether you feel emotions like a human, and he’d absolutely try to flirt with you just to see your reaction.

If you’re dismissive of him, he finds it hilarious. He just keeps coming back, completely unbothered. If anything, your indifference makes him work even harder to get your attention.

In a strange way, he actually respects you. You’re the only being he doesn’t think he could ever truly defeat, and that makes you untouchable in his eyes. He wouldn’t betray you- at least, not in a way that would actually threaten your existence.

Illumi Zoldyck

At first, he’s unsettled by you. The Zoldyck family prides itself on their control, but you’re something outside the realm of human power. His mind races with possibilities- are you a threat to his family? To his control?

If he determines that you have no interest in interfering with his business, he switches tactics. Instead of eliminating you, he tries to align himself with you. If you’re an immortal being, what better way to secure his family's safety than by ensuring you’re on his side?

He���s strangely drawn to you, your inhuman logic and sheer indifference to human struggles make you a kindred spirit to him. Illumi never quite felt human himself, so there’s something comforting about your detachment.

He asks probing questions about your abilities- how you function, how you think, whether or not you experience emotions the same way humans do. It’s less about curiosity and more about understanding the best way to integrate you into his plans.

If you ever display dominance over him, he accepts it with eerie calmness. Unlike Hisoka, he isn’t thrilled by being weaker, but he understands power dynamics and he knows when he’s lost. If anything, he might even start seeing you as his superior in an oddly reverent way.

He sees potential in using your existence to create an unstoppable lineage. The Zoldyck family values strength, so if you showed even the slightest interest in reproduction (whether through science or otherwise), he would be invested.

Kurapika

His initial reaction is pure suspicion. An all-powerful being from another universe? He doesn’t trust you at all. He views anything beyond human comprehension as potentially dangerous, especially after everything he’s been through.

It takes a long time for him to drop his guard. If you express no interest in harming innocents or using your power for evil, he gradually starts to respect you. You’re not like the Phantom Troupe- you’re not needlessly cruel. But he still struggles with understanding your mindset.

Kurapika is incredibly intelligent, but your existence challenges his perception of the world. He might even seek knowledge from you, trying to understand how your biology works, how you perceive time, and what drives you if you don’t experience human mortality.

He wouldn’t fear you, but he’d constantly be assessing you, trying to predict your next move. His trust isn’t easy to earn, but once you do, he’s fiercely loyal.

If you express any sort of philosophical perspective on life and morality, he’d listen. He wouldn’t always agree, but he’d respect your experience. In a way, he might even admire your detachment- after all, his emotions have only ever led to suffering.

However, if you’re dismissive of human life, he’d be disgusted. He doesn’t care how powerful you are, he will fight you if he believes you’re a danger to others.

Meruem

The most complicated relationship of them all. Meruem is the closest thing to you in terms of sheer biological supremacy. The moment he senses what you are, he sees you as either a rival or an equal.

If you show any sign of superiority over him, he’d initially reject it- his pride as a king wouldn’t allow him to submit. But the more he observes you, the more he’d start to accept your place alongside him.

He’d want to test himself against you, not necessarily through combat, but through intellectual and strategic battles. He’d challenge you to games, debates, anything that could prove his worth in your eyes.

Philosophically, he’s deeply curious about you. He struggled with his identity as a being beyond humans but still connected to them, so how do you perceive existence when you’ve never been human at all?

If you show an interest in nurturing the weak, like he eventually did, he’d feel a deep connection with you. However, if you’re entirely apathetic toward lesser beings, he’d feel conflicted, should he follow your example or fight against that mindset?

You might be the only being that truly humbles him. And for that reason, he’d seek your companionship, whether as a trusted equal, a rival, or something in between.

[syerra-637]

Celebrate New Year's Eve with them (Leorio, Hisoka, Chrollo, Pakunoda, Meruem)

Leorio

With him, New Year’s Eve is a warm and classic moment. You’re invited to a party hosted by your mutual friends. Amid laughter, lively conversations, and a few shared drinks, Leorio makes sure you have a memorable evening. When midnight strikes, he gently pulls you close to wish you a happy new year, his warm smile reminding you that with him, every moment is simple yet precious.

Hisoka

With him, nothing is conventional. If you’re at Heaven’s Arena, he orders fast food, which you share while watching TV. After a few bites, he fixes his mischievous smile on you, a glint in his eyes. “What better way to start the new year than celebrating our love, huh, honey?” he murmurs before pulling you into his arms, ready to start the night his way.

Chrollo

New Year’s Eve is spent in a refined hotel, all about elegance. After a chic dinner at a Michelin-starred restaurant, you spend the last hour of the year in a suite at the top of the building. On the balcony, a glass of wine in hand, you gaze at the city lights. Ever thoughtful, Chrollo drapes his coat over your shoulders to shield you from the cold. At midnight, he marks the start of the new year with a kiss that is both tender and full of promises.

Pakunoda

For her, New Year’s doesn’t hold much significance, but she follows your lead. If you want to celebrate the occasion, she takes you to a cozy, intimate restaurant for dinner. The evening continues in your charming apartment. Wrapped in a blanket, you nibble on popcorn while watching a movie. At midnight, without any grand gestures, she wishes you a happy new year, a soft smile lighting up her face.

Meruem

First, you need to explain what New Year’s is. Intrigued, he commands his servants to prepare a celebration worthy of you: a lavish feast, elegant decorations, everything orchestrated to meet your satisfaction. When midnight strikes, he turns to you, slightly perplexed, as if expecting something spectacular to happen. You smile, and he finally understands that the special moment is simply being by your side.

[animeyanderelover]

Meruem?:>

Last request from the little event. Thanks s lot, I had fun♥.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, isolation

Tags: @jamayah @chxxz @leveyani @cynniical @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59

Quick, little Hc's

​👑​Meruem is the King of his species,a being who is aware of his superior status. However, as his partner and lover you have the option of taking a sliver of his power and using it to benefit yourself though only if he approves of it. Little bit of power that allows you to wield is for example to design the interior of the castle he inhabits to your liking or choosing different decorations like paintings or plants. To him it honestly doesn't matter how silly you may end up making the interior look as long as he knows that it makes you happy. Shaiapouf in particular is quick to lament about the choices you make only to be very swiftly silenced by Meruem who clarifies it to his royal servant that your decision is his decision and for that the butterfly should just shut up and obey. Different options to entertain yourself are given to you as well as you can requests for books or games that you would like to keep. Especially objects of personal interest and entertainment are something he likes to indulge in as well in order to understand better what your preference and likings are. That's why he ends up reading your books together with you, his chin resting on your shoulder whilst you sit on his lap.

[lav-bee]

HxH X Reader

PDA in public VS private

Character/s: Meruem

❤️- read as romantic

Warnings: 16+, This has spicy stuff in it but it’s not super detailed, I marked them sfw and nsfw if you didn’t want to read it ^_^

SFW

- Genuinely doesn't care where or when, how many eyes there are that can see you both, he will indulge in PDA

- Any prying eyes will be ignored because really, why should he care? He is the King

- However, if he notices you being tense because of the starring he will order the ant/ human away

- Your comfort is his priority and therefore will keep an eye on you -> trying to pick up on any cues

- Will try to keep his hands to himself but that doesn't mean he’ll leave you alone

- It's very rare for him to leave you alone, and if he isn't there with you he’ll assign Pieto to follow after you

- You're his, that means no one else will be allowed to touch you

- Possessive, you might say

- His reasoning is ‘To keep you safe’. After all, you are human, you're fragile

- It gets to his head sometime, there have been times that he was scared to touch you in fear he will break you. The smallest movement on his part could lead to you having a broken/ sprained limb

- You’ll have to reassure him a simple hug wont crush you

- I'm not trying to say he won't touch you at all, he definitely does. The touches are just more soft and gentle

- One thing he really likes is having you sit in his lap

- That way you have some control in how you sit, it also allows him to wrap his arms around you

- Will rest his chin on either your head or shoulder while playing against board game masters

- If the game he's playing starts to get boring he’ll begin to lay soft kisses along your neck

- Kisses will turn into sucking and sooner or later you’ll be sitting there squirming in his lap as he continues to mark you in hickies

- Won't admit it at first but he likes to see you squirm, in pleasure of course, not discomfort

- But again, if you don't like being all squirmy in his lap in front of others he’ll tune it down a bit, only a couple kisses

- In private isn't much different

- He is still careful where and how he moves in order not to hurt you

- But since there's no one around anymore it's free game, will cuddle and kiss you to his hearts content

- Cuddling is also one of his favorites, he's definitely the big spoon

- Will pull you into his chest by your waist and nuzzle his face into your neck

- Not many words are said, just enjoying each other in comforting embrace

- You’ll both fall asleep like that

NSFW

- Onto more spicy things

- You’ll have to convince him to do more sexual stuff

- Not that he doesnt want to do it, it's just he doesn't want to hurt you (no break it, its fine)

- Very slow to proceed once you do convince him

- Trust me when I say he can spend hours between your legs prepping you

- You’ll be a puddle of mush by the time he’s done, you might even pass out from how many times he brought you to release by just his fingers and tongue

- Will use it as an excuse that you need to rest and will once again prolong the real event

- Leaves kisses and hickeys everywhere along your body, it almost looks as if someone beat you up

- Back to the part where he sits you on his lap

- Let me introduce you to cockwarming

- He has spent hours playing against people, why not have some fun?

- There will be a blanket placed in your lap so the others in the room don't see anything, you're his and therefore no human or ant should see what's his to take

- Is very patient and has self control, but that doesn't mean he lets you do as you wish, he has a breaking point

- “No rocking your hips,” He mumbles against your neck. His hands stop you from any further movement, “You're distracting me.”

[kimbap-r0ll]

Thought up another one!

this one is illumi,

illumi realizing he’s in love but there is internal conflict within himself not just due to his family but his own emotions and thought if he can even bring balances / if he was what you want. A lil Angst and comfort? You can change it around and everything if ya want I don’t mind. I just like givin prompts lol. And if you’ve done illumi for a similar request or exact same can you do meruem , shalnark or Franklin if you write any of them.

Ooh, I have no idea if I had a similar request because I wrote so much and forgot to update my masterlist haha! However, I'll just write some for all of the characters because why not. Thank you for the request!

Illumi, Shalnark, Franklin, Meruem — Internal Conflict about love

Illumi

Unless you were arranged to marry him, he will be in a serious conflict with himself. Sure, the Zoldycks need a good heir, but Illumi knows himself that he's not meant for the title of Zoldyck head. Because of this, he probably has a bad thought that he shouldn't have interest in a love interest or *gasp* marriage. However, here he is wondering why his heart beats when you talk to him, why he can't see you getting hurt (unless it's training but :/)

I feel like, in a horrible sense, his first instinct is to try and kill you. If you're gone that means he won't have to go through the hurdles he has every night thinking about you. But he can't bring himself to do it. If it gets to the point he can't bear it, he might go through with it

He won't dare bring it up to his mother or father, but if his grandfather realize something's up he might have to talk to him. Zeno is definitely the more chill guy in the family, which means Illumi might be able to convince you to join the Zoldycks if you weren't invited already. The hardest obstacle would be Kikyo, but that's for later

Overall I feel like you would be able to see the internal conflict more than he would like to admit. He's staring at you for really long (concerningly long) times, he talks to you even harsher than before, etc. If you want to live, either cut ties with him or try to convince him love isn't a bad thing

Shalnark

I feel like he doesn't actually mind love that much, he just gets conflicted if you're a civilian or if you're someone he targeted originally. Think enemies to lovers

He would also try to murder you :/ but he might consult Chrollo first. Shalnark will never tell anyone about his crush, especially Feitan or Phinks. However, Chrollo is a mediator for the team and ultimately the only person in the troupe that probably knows what romance is (but it's only from books haha). This means you might be saved by Chrollo's recommendation to Shalnark that love isn't bad

Shalnark will be frank with you on his occupation as a world-renowned criminal. He doesn't want you to fall in love with someone who isn't him, and he wants to give you one more chance before he wants you to be his. If you leave, that means he'll just go on with his daily life. However, if you decide to stay, he might force you to move to Meteor City for "your safety"

You'll not be able to tell he's conflicted because of how he's just so good at hiding emotions. He's smiling, laughing as he usually does. However, something's off. You can tell he's watching you more intently than before while you're back is turned, almost like he's debating throwing a needle in your head.

Franklin

He's honestly also super chill about love, like it's hard to find him conflicted. However, the only time he would be conflicted would be if he found out you're just a regular civilian who could be subject to unneeded visitors from the Hunter Association or the mafia. He doesn't want to see you get hurt

Won't resort to violence! He'll sit down and talk to himself before talking to Chrollo about the matter. Similar to Shalnark's logic, Chrollo's the counselor and leader of the team. He wants to know if he should tell you about his feelings or if it's better for your well-being to not say anything.

Franklin eventually tells you. He tells you in a secluded and quiet environment just what he really does. He tells you he understands if you disagree with him, if you want to run away and tell the police (though this means he might have to resort to violence), but in the end he wants you to be safe. If you leave, that'll be the end of you two's relationship. If you stay, he'll be grateful and tell you he'll always make sure you're safe.

You could probably tell he liked you and had this internal conflict. He started to blush more and he would be quiet around you more than he did before. If you ask him before his big reveal, he'll originally deny these feelings

Meruem

Assuming you're Komugi, he goes through the entire Chimera Ant Arc and doesn't tell you until you two are literally dying :/

However! If you aren't the gungi genius then how this starts might've been similar. Meruem might've had you explain some human concepts to him or maybe he kept you around because it seemed like you had potential for something the ants would need. Nonetheless, his feelings were pure accident.

This leads to him having a conflict that all the rest of the royal guards can see. Pitou won't really mind the king's sudden interest in you, though Pitou might feel it's a little strange how such a weak person like you stayed alive for more than a few hours next to Meruem. Then there's Youpi, who could care less about who the king likes. This guy thinks as long as you aren't a threat to the king's power, no worries. The issue is Pouf. He'll try to convince Meruem you're worthless and whenever Meruem goes through the "should-I-kill-y/n" Pouf will advocate for your death :/. Meruem finds himself never following through this though, so at some point he just stops asking out loud

You will see the conflict in real time, also hear from him about his emotions. He doesn't actually tell you he loves you since he doesn't really know what "love" means. He'll tell you what he's feeling, and then tell you with no corners cut that sometimes he feels like he should kill you (seriously what is with these ants). Give him some time, he'll learn eventually that he's going through a crush and nothing that will kill him (until Netero happens but -_-)

[winxanity-ii]

HUNTER X HUNTER MASTERLIST

╰ ⌞🇲‌🇦‌🇮‌🇳‌-🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌⌝

⨂ LEORIO PARADINIGHT

⨁ ILLUMI ZOLDYCK

⨂ PARISTON HILL

⨁ SHALNARK RYUSEIH

⨂ KURAPIKA KURTA

⨁ GING FREECSS

⨂ POKKURU

⨂ CHROLLO LUCILFER

⨁ HANZŌ HATTORI

⨂ HISOKA MOROW

⨁ KAITO/KITE

⨂ MERUEM

⨁ KNOV

⨂ FEITAN PORTOR

⨁ UVOGIN

⨂ WING/UINGU

⨁ GON FREECSS

⨂ KALLUTO ZOLDYCK

⨁ KILLUA ZOLDYCK

⨂ NEFERPITOU

⨁ SHAIAPOUF

⨂ COLT

⨁ MENTHUTHUYOUPI

⨂ MULTI-SHIPS

**There will be NO smut/semi-smut work written about Gon, Killua, nor Kalluto—frankly any minor during the HunterxHunter era—1) they're minors and if you're writing sexual things about/having to do with minors, please go to the nearest police station and turn yourself in & 2) I grew up reading/watching HunterxHunter so they are practically my babies—no matter how beefed up they make them in Chimera Ant Arc; the most you'll get out of me is innocent highschool romance, lol.

[justwinginglife]

Guys- I wanna write a Meruem x reader fic so bad. Am I alone in Meruem hear me out land? 😭🤣

[quimichi]

¡! ❞ MAKING OUT WITH HXH GUYS

warnings: NSFW - MDNI, Ging Freecs, this man needs his own tw, kissing, making out, pet names, teasing, yeah i think thats it?

summary: Making out with hxh guys

characters: HxH guys x F!Reader + Neferpitou (they/them) dunno where to put that creature

word count: 5.940

a/n: any character you want added? Tell me lol

Chrollo

Chrollo is kissing you with a passion that borders on fervent. His hands touch the curves of your face— as if trying to memorize how you feel under his skin. He wants to memorize your smell, how each of your curves and dip fits against him.

His tongue sweeps along your lips, desperate for more. Chrollo is craving you; craving the sensation of your skin against his. Chrollo's hands slide down your chest and to your thighs, pulling you even closer against him, his touch insistent and demanding. He pulls back and gazes at you, his hand tilting your chin so that you're looking up at him. His eyes are dilated, almost completely black, and his voice is ragged as he speaks.

"Don't look away from me," he murmurs. "Your eyes. Let me see them. I need to see you." His mouth is on your neck, his hands roaming over your skin. He's desperate. His tongue follows the path of his lips, tasting the air with a fervour that borders on the needy. He lets out a ragged exhale that turns into a moan against your flesh.

"You're mine," he groans. "You're perfect. You're mine."

Dalzollene

Dalzollene is pressed against your body, hands at your hips. His head dips to kiss you, lips trailing across your jaw and down the column of your throat. "You're so good to me," he murmurs between pecks and kisses. "Good," he repeats. He presses closer against you, hands slipping under the hem of your shirt. Dalzollene's body presses hard against yours, pushing you back against the wall. One of his hands leaves your hips to come up under your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your stomach.

His other hand grips your hip, holding you in place. His lips find your sensitive point just under your jaw, and he nips you there. "My good girl." He says, as though he means it. "Gods, you're good to me." His kisses are hot, almost feverish, against your skin as his lips dance and suck to a new spot after just leaving the last. One hand grabs your hip tighter, pinning you to the wall behind you. The other slides down your chest and stomach, leaving fire in every place his fingertips graze you. "You're gonna make me weak if you keep being so good to me," he rasped against your neck. "Oh, you're so goddamn good to me." Dalzollene nips the soft flesh of your collarbone.

Feitan

"Ouch-!" Feitan lets out a soft laugh against your lips. His teeth nip at your skin, taking the tiniest tastes of you, relishing in the sweet moan that escapes your throat as he does so. His hand curls around your cheek, fingers tracing the line of your jaw.

"You are delicious," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. "I could feast on you for eternity." Feitan's hand slides back to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. He tugs, pulling your head back and baring your neck for him. He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Who do you belong to?" He whispers, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. "Say it. Let me hear those sweet little words." His hand continues to grasp at you, as if he cannot get enough of your touch. His teeth graze against the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along the line of your pulse. "Whose are you?" He breathes, his voice as soft and sweet as honey. "Tell me. Who do you belong to? Answer me. I will have my name on your hips, your back, everywhere. I'll carve it into you."

Ging

"Watch my-?" Ging stutters before cutting himself off, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. He blinks once, twice, before letting out a soft, almost inaudible exhale of breath. "My tongue?" Ging pulls you against him. One of his arms wraps around your waist, bringing you right flush against him. Gings other hand slides lower, slipping down to your hip.

"You're a brat, aren't you? No one ever complained about my kisses, ever." He murmurs, smirking. "Probably cause you never ever kissed someone, ever." You mock him. "You've always been a brat." Ging lets out a quiet laugh.

He tugs his hand from your hair, coming to rest it on your hip instead; his grip tightens ever-so-slightly. The hand at your stomach begins to rise, creeping just beneath the edge of your shirt. His hand slides higher, fingertips brushing against your skin, just shy of the waistband of your pants. Ging lets your ear fall against the crook of his neck, the action bringing you even more closely against him than you were a moment ago— it's as though he's attempting to meld the two of you together like an experiment.

He grins. "How long has it been since you've been on your best behaviour?"

Hanzo

Hanzo is a mess of kisses. He worships your lips like a shrine, he worships the curve of your neck, he worships the slope of your shoulders, the dip of your waist, everything. In a moment, he is a man drowning in an ocean of bliss— his body pressed against yours, his hands gripping you tight, holding you close to him.

The man is a kiss-soaked mess— his body a trembling mess, every kiss turning him to jelly. He holds onto you like he never wants to let go. "Did you ever-" but you were quickly shut down, "Never before." The answer comes in hushed, urgent tones. His hands trail over you like fire, tracing the curves and lines of your body like your skin is a map he wants to re-draw a thousand times.

"Never like this." His hands roam down your back. "Not with anyone like this." His words end on a gasp as his hand comes down to cup you, his touch possessive and almost reverent. It is a caress, but at the same time, it's claiming you.

"I have longed to touch you," he whispers, his words like a prayer. "To caress you… to hold you…" His words are like nothing he'd ever thought of before, but he seems to be spilling them without a care. It's as if he has been holding them back for years, and your touch has forced them out. For the first time, Hanzo is a man without a filter, no hesitation, no hesitance. "To touch you..." he murmurs, as he leans forward, pressing soft kisses to the side of your neck. "So desperately."

Hisoka

"Yes." He moans between kisses, arching up into you. He presses his body against yours, as close as two souls can be. Every kiss, every touch, only makes the fire inside him grow. His fingers, cold as moonlight, dance over your skin. His lips are soft, but his touch is hungry— he wants you, needs you, like a starving puppy that only a single meal will suffice. "Oh," he whispers against your lips, "OH~" he moans, "Mmm, yes, keep it coming." He lets out a shuddering breath. Hisoka's fingers dip into your hair and thread through the soft strands, grabbing the locks in a way that makes it hard for you escape from his hold.

"So good. You're so good, so—" He cuts off a moan, his breath hitching in anticipation of something. "Can you shut the fuck up, clown ass-" you blurt out.

Hisokas eyes gleam, sparkling like jewels as he looks up at you. He loves it when you take control like this. All those sounds he made before are nothing compared to his cocky grin now. "Mmm, make me," he responds, teasingly.

Hisoka's hand slides up your arm, all the way up and his fingers dig into your shoulder hard. His smirk is playful, but that look in his eyes… that's no joke. A low growl rolls past his lips. 

"I dare you," he teases. "Make me shut up."

Illumi

Kissing Illumis lips feels like kissing a statue. His body is rigid, like the very air around him has frozen. The only response you get from him is from the way he shudders against you, or from the soft sound that slips from his lips when your tongue touches against his.

The kiss feels as if it were frozen in time. Illumi is completely and utterly frozen. The only sign he makes of life in his body is his hands— they're resting on your shoulders, fingers curling and releasing.

Your lips part from his, it's pointless and in a way embarrassing for you to keep going. "Did you...ever made out before?" "No." His answer is simple. His fingers grip tighter against your shoulders, pulling you a little closer to him. The stiffness in his body grows to the point that you might believe he stopped breathing entirely.

"Mother has taught me." "WHAT?!" "She said that making out, or kissing is a waste of time and should not be part of the relationship process. It takes away too much time." "Ah-"

The little sound you make makes Illumi pause.

His fingers flex and loosen against your shoulders. He's tense, body frozen in place, when suddenly he pulls you a little tighter.  "Ah," he repeats, your single little sound is so perfect to his ears. Soft and breathy.

"Well, seems like you have to...teach me then."

Kite

"My everything." Kite's fingers trail along your jaw, over your lips, tracing the lines of your face. "My only love."  He buries his nose into your neck, breathes you in. "Please." He says, the word almost a whimper of desire.

"Please, don't ever jump so reckless into danger again." "...Promise." "I hope so." The corners of Kite's lips curl up into a slight, affectionate smile, but it's a shaky smile. He buries a hand into your silken hair and breathes against your throat.

"Promise me you'll run when i tell you to. You stay where you are when i tell you to. You do as i tell you to. We don't know what we might encounter in NGL."

"Good." Kite's entire body relaxed, a shudder coming over him as your word echoed through his mind. He breathed out against your skin, nuzzling into that sweet spot beneath your jaw. He closed his eyes, pressing his lips against you in a kiss, and again, and again. He wants to lose himself in you.

"Please, do as told and leave me behind if you must."

Knov

Knov's lips are as cold as his skin is warm. It's a strange sensation, one that seems both heavenly and sinful at once. His arms are wrapped around you as though he would never let go. There's an almost reverent expression on his face as his lips connect with yours, and his hands roam your body as if he is trying to prove to himself you're really there.

He kisses you. Deeply and passionately, as if he were starving and you were the first thing that wasn't ice in his mouth. Knov's lips are cold, his hands hot against your skin. He guides you closer to him, one arm curled around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. You can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, a stark contrast to the cold of his lips.

His other hand is buried in your hair, fingers tangled in your locks like a man who was desperate to touch you. "Gods, you're beautiful," he murmurs. Knov's eyes roam over you almost possessively, as though he wants to look at every inch of you. He's silent like this, for the first time in as long as you can remember. He's so focused, so intent on you, that he has forgotten how to hold a conversation. All of his attention is on you— your form, the way your hair bounces as you move, the way your clothes mould themselves against you— he's completely captivated.

When he finally does speak again, his voice is rough. Deep and husky.

"I've missed you."

Knuckle

"C-Chill out-!" Knuckle's reaction to that is quite a lot of things, most of them sinful, and you can't tell when he stops kissing you or when he pulls back. For a moment he just stares at you, eyes wide. "You-" he breaths. The words fail him, replaced by a soft, shaky exhale. For a moment he's too stunned to move, staring.

But then, you're pressed against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, holding you as close to his body as humanly possible. He buries his face into your neck, pressing kisses to the skin. The way he kisses is desperate, desperate like a man starving in the desert. His breaths are hot against your skin, and his hands are gripping your waist, holding onto you so tightly he fears you might disappear.

"What as gotten into you." you chuckle lightly as his lips and hair tickle your skin. "You," he chokes out, his voice coming as a sharp gasp against your neck. His head lifts, and he kisses down the column of your neck, and you can hear the way he says "you" between kisses, and it sounds like a prayer, like a plea, like a vow. "You've gotten into me—"

Kurapika

"Feeling better?" You ask him, holding his face gently in your hands. "The world feels less cold," he admits. His hands come up to hold your face. He's never seen anything as precious as you before, and there is a sense of reverence in the way that he looks at you.

"I've never felt... whole." His fingertips trace the lines of your jaw. "I'm better now," he says, voice barely above a whisper. As he speaks, Kurapika's hands are still tracing the expanse of your cheek, the line of your jaw, the curve of your cheeks— as if he's memorising how it feels to finally touch you.

His eyes have softened when they look at you. The tension in his body seems to have left at last. "I'm better when I'm with you," he says. He kisses you. His lips are soft and warm against yours, the taste like sweet wine against your tongue, a heady mix of sweetness and intoxicating desire.

His arms are gentle as they wrap around your waist, drawing you closer still. As if your proximity isn't enough, he pulls you over so that you're sat atop  of him on his lap. His lips are hungry— a desperate need against your mouth as he kisses you over and over again.

Leorio

Leorio kisses back fiercely, lips pressing against yours fervently, tongue slipping past your lips. His hands slide up to cup your face, fingers tangling gently in your hair, cradling you against him as if he cannot get enough of you. He melts at your touch, breath leaving him in soft, shuddering gasps. He pulls back just slightly, only by millimeters— his lips just barely ghosting over your skin, his breath hot and needy and soft against your neck. Leorio swallows, lips parting slightly. The sound of his breath against your skin has an unmistakable undertone of need. He presses closer, pressing his body against yours, body shaking against you. Every breath he takes has his name falling from his lips.

"Gods," he gasps, voice a desperate whisper. "Bab…I don't know how much patience I have left."

He presses his lips between your collarbones, leaving soft, reverent kisses against smooth flesh. "I'm going crazy." You are making him absolutely unravel.

He murmurs your name as he presses kisses against your neck. He's whimpering now, a litany of praise against your skin like a desperate prayer. "Your- Gods, I need you-" His fingers clutch at your shirt, body trembling. "-I need to be closer to you."

The way he's shuddering against you is like a leaf in the wind. A shudder, a press, another kiss to your skin. "I'm going to break if I don't have you now."-

Menthuthuyoupi

"Wait-! Not so r-!" Menthuthuyoupi gasps, a low, startled sound that catches in his throat. He blinks down at you. "Not so rough?" His words are muffled against the soft plush of your lips, but the sound is clear. He pauses, lifting his head slightly— his lips barely leave yours, and he's still close enough that his body is flush against yours. His mouth brushes against your lips, the sound of his deep and gravelly voice rumbling from his chest.

He leans closer, his eyes still fixed on yours, and he murmurs. "Or not so loud?"

"Rough-!" "Yes." His breath is hot on your face, his tongue flicking out to trace your bottom lip, a slow, deliberate stroke of heat. A shudder runs through him as he pulls back just enough to speak. He tilts his head, and he looks up you. "You like that?" He tilts his head, his mouth only inches away from yours. A smirk pulls at his mouth, and he teases you in kind. "Rough." Menthuthuyoupis breath hitches against your ear. He shivers, his body taut with tension as his hand moves to the nape of your neck, fingers tightening against the soft skin.

"Rough." He murmurs once more, his voice barely a touch above a whisper. He pulls back slightly, and the look in his eyes is like a wildcat stalking its prey.

"You want rough." He repeats, as though it is the most obvious thing in the universe.

Meruem

His lips move against yours automatically. He kisses you with a sense of reverence so intense, you'd think you were worshipping a god in the shape of a man. Meruem's heart is in his throat. This is all he's ever dreamed of, all he's dreamed of since the day you first turned your eyes onto him. He kisses you like a dying man who is being reborn (literally). A man starving who cannot fathom having food, but here it is, right in front of him.

Just before you pull away, Meruem murmurs.

"Mine." His mouth curls up at that. He grins, but there's hunger behind his eyes, and something else too. A sense of possession. A deep, feral need to keep what is his and his alone. "Mine to devour," he agrees. "Mine to love. Mine to hold. Mine to eat if i so desire." Meruem kisses you again, this time more aggressively, as if he's trying to memorize every detail of your lips so that he will never forget the taste again. His hands, large and strong, come up to rest on your waist; his fingers dig into your body, claiming you as his with a possessive force that takes your breath.

He breaks the kiss, only to move back in, kissing you again and again. Each time, his embrace around you deepens, becomes harder. His breaths are becoming heavier.

"My Human tastes so good."

Morel

Morel is a man who is all restraint. He is meticulous, precise, and disciplined. He has a reputation as a hunter for his precise, deadly combat, but he has also been known to be a slow, almost deliberate lover.

His kiss against your mouth is slow and unhurried. When his lips part from yours, he pauses to gaze at you, as if you are a precious gemstone. Morel will look at you as if for the first time, even after months of seeing you. No matter how many times he's been in your presence, every look is like the first. His expression is always one of reverent awe. His hands are cool, soft, and steady. They rest against your face when he kisses you. He holds you close, like a flower held in a gentle breeze that will protect you from all the storms of the world. His movements are deliberately slow, as if he is savouring every inch of you.

"Morel..." His name on your lips makes his body shiver with something he couldn't have prepared for in a million deaths. He is as if carved from stone. The word that slips from your mouth as if falling from the gods themselves makes him feel like he's been touched by lightning.

"Say it again…?" he whispers.

"Morel." "You'll remember to scream that later." "Wait what?"

Neferpitou

Neferpitou shivers at the sensation of your lips. Soft. Plump. Just the right amount of firmness. When your hand cups the side of their face, they tilt their head into your hand — as though they couldn't be more content to be in your grasp.

"Was...was that a kiss…?" They ask breathlessly. Neferpitou has always been quiet, but they are so very desperate for you. Neferpitou kisses you like a drowning man, with a desperation that almost seems to consume the room. There are no words that need be said to describe this, only actions.

When your back hits the wall, Neferpitou is flush against you, their lips still on yours, tongue tracing over your teeth. Their hand reaches up to grasp you by the neck, pressing against your jaw with the same sort of urgency.

Their breaths get deeper, more ragged with want. "You're mine…" Neferpitou breathes when they finally pull back from your kiss, leaving only a few inches of space between your lips. Their thumb brushes over your lip, lingering as if they couldn't bear the thought of letting it go.

"Say you're mine, human!"

Netero

His lips are warm, softer than they have any right to be. His arms are around you, firm as a mountain, but gentle in a way that says he's being careful. He tastes of the rain, like the afterglow of a storm. His arms tighten against your back in a way that makes it perfectly clear: he intends on holding onto you for all eternity. He is centuries old— but he feels young with you. He holds you against him like a relic, a treasure from the very first second that he's made you his.

Your body fits against his, the two of you slotting together like the final bit of a puzzle. He is warm against you, his head buried against the crook of your neck, as if you are a pillow, and all his thoughts are on you. His face is pressed into your hair, and he inhales slowly, your scent filling his senses and his eyes flutter shut. It feels as if a part of him has been missing all his life, and then you came along and you fit so perfectly into his arms that all at once he realises: you were always that missing piece.

"I've been waiting for so long," he mumbles. "I'm not going to let go of you now."

Nobunaga

Nobunagas head is in the crook of your neck. He is breathing deeply, as if you could drown out the whole world with the scent of you alone. "I love you," he breathes again, against your skin. "You're it… you're all I need…"

His hand gently runs up your arm, holding you against him. He's clinging to you like a barnacle. Nobunaga's breath hitches as your touch moves against his jawline. "You're too good for me." His words are barely a whisper.  His eyes close as soon as your hand touches his face, and he's completely quiet now, save for the sound of his breath.

If it weren't for his heart beating, one would almost assume that he's dead. He's as still as a statue, as if the mere whisper of your touch could bring him shattering to his knees. "You," he murmurs again, his voice low, "you're everything. More. So many good things I'm not. You're— I would die for you. I would."

His grip on your arm tightens. "I'm lost in you… I'm—" he trails off, swallowing thickly.

Pariston

"Somebody might-" "Let them," Pariston murmurs against your mouth. He's breathless, his face a few inches from yours, eyes wide and fixed in a mixture of reverence and adoration. "Let them look. Let them see your good man; your beautiful lover." He pulls you closer, bringing you flush against him. There's something almost feverish in the way he looks at you. "Let them see that you're mine. Let them know you're the only one that matters." "But-" "But?" His tone matches yours; gentle, questioning. "But what?"

His eyes search yours, as if he's almost afraid that you'll tell him to stop— that he'll be forced to part from you, even for a second. He holds his ground, unmoving, his body pressed close to yours. Pariston smiles at you, a tender curve of the lips. It's a smile full of warmth and adoration.

It's the kind of smile that is utterly unguarded, a simple, unburdened smile that comes from nothing but love and affection. Pariston's tongue peeks out from behind his lips to moisten them. He brings a hand up to hold your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin.

"You look pretty when you're flustered," he comments. "And so flustered," he teases, his finger trailing lower down your face to brush against your neck playfully. "Are you scared that they'll think I'm taking advantage of you, my love?"

His hand slides down your arm; a shiver goes through you as his fingertips linger over your forearm. "Scared that they'll think that I'm making you mine?"

A pause, before he adds in a husky drawl that sounds more like a growl, "Scared that you'll like it?"

Phinks

"Only strong for you," Phinks murmurs with a soft gasp, breathless and trembling.

His arms tighten around you, fingers gripping your shoulders as he pulls you closer, needing to have you in his embrace. The only thought his mind is able to form is of you, of you, of you. Phinks breath hitches.

His fingers tighten around your waist. His lips part easily as his head cocks back and his breaths grow more urgent. He makes a low, soft sound as his fingers clutch tighter to your body, and he presses himself closer to you. Phinks can't get enough of this. He can't get enough of having you close, of having you so close to him. Of hearing you breathe, of feeling the weight of you on top of him.

He kisses you more roughly this time, tongue pressing against yours. One of his hands grips your waist, pulling you closer, and his fingers dig into your skin.

He pulls away and presses his lips to your neck, lips whispering against the skin.

"You drive me insane." One of his legs hooks around yours and he rolls, reversing the positions so that he is on top of you, staring down at you from above. He presses against you, fingers gripping your hips tightly.

Pokkle

"Me, shy?" Pokkle almost laughs, only holding in the sound with a stifled huff. He raises his face slowly to look at you, his eyes glistening just like they almost always do when he looks towards you. "I am not shy," he says. "I simply—"

His voice trails off once again and he looks down at his feet. He lets out a low, shuddering breath— he's never been a good liar. He lets out a quiet, breathless laugh.

"I'm not getting shy at all. I'm not. I just…" He looks up, eyes meeting yours almost immediately, like a flower seeking sun. "A moment of weakness. A brief vulnerability— I-"

He sighs. God, he is a bad liar.

"Shut up and keep kissing me." You whisper, leaning closer to him. Pokkle freezes at that order. His breath stops in his chest. For a moment, it seems he's stunned speechless by the statement.

And then, he reacts. All he does is stare for a second, and you catch a spark of something new in Pokkles eyes. "Okay," he says; his voice is barely a whisper as he responds to you, soft and just a little bit breathy.  He pulls you close.

Razor

His hands are gentle as he touches you, as he runs his fingers over you like you are pure light. Razor loves to tease you, loves to hear your little whimpers and gasps as his touch slides over you. "Did you do that on purpose?" Razor asks, voice slightly breathless as he presses his thumb over the spot were he just left his mark. "I don't believe you're this bad at practicing nen." there's a slight edge to his voice, "and I know you aren't that bad."

"Or— maybe," he murmurs— "I'm just that skilled at making you lose your focus." Razor lets his fingers dance over your skin while your heart beats faster under his touch. "You're so easy," he muses. His tongue slips out, running the tip along the seam of your lips. When he speaks again, his voice is a husky whisper:

"You're so desperate just for me to touch you."

His fingers dance along the inside of your shirt as they slip under the fabric, caressing the warm, supple skin beneath his fingertips. He kisses you again. His teeth close around your bottom lip. He nips at your mouth with more force. He gently bites and sucks and pulls until you're letting out the pretty noises that drive him crazy. When he releases your lip, a thread of saliva still connected to his mouth, he grins against it.

"You're not very quiet at all."

Shaiapouf

His kisses are soft, as if he is touching a piece of art that could crumble under the pressure of his own touch. He holds your gaze as he does, eyes wide and open, like a child that has seen something that has rocked his very world. His tongue is soft and slow against your mouth, warm and gentle like the summer sun. His body is warm as well, every muscle under his clothes as taut as tautrope. He moves slowly, languid, languid. He would not speed the pace on his own accord. He's content to worship you with his lips. His mouth moves to your neck, his lips brushing against the bare skin, soft as satin.

He's silent as he presses kisses against your throat, his nose brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. He inhales your scent, as if it alone was a sacrament he was consuming.

He moves lower, his mouth moving to the hollow of your throat. He pauses there, then moves down to the collarbone, his hair splaying across your skin. Shaiapoufs tongue runs along the contour of your collarbone. He lets it dance across the skin of your collarbone, as it would a melody on the strings. He presses gentle kisses there, moving his way back up along your throat to your jaw.

His hands are at your face, stroking softly across your cheek, your chin, your jaw. His touch is like a caress. He strokes over your lips.

Shalnark

A small whimper sounds in the back of Shalnarks throat as your lips meet. He is quick to return the kiss, as if every fiber of his being is focused on that one singular contact. He reaches up, resting his palm against the curve of your jaw, turning your head so that he can deepen the kiss.

His breath is hot against your skin, his other hand gripping your waist, fingers digging hard into the fabric of your clothes. "You're mine," he murmurs against your lips, almost desperately. His fingers tug at your clothes, trying to pull you closer. If he could have, he would have torn them from you, and then your body, so that he could have you even closer.

Shalnark tongue brushes over your lower lip, and he makes a soft sound—a small whimper—as he does so. He is desperate, and his touch is rough. In that moment, he simply wants to be close to you. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Mine," he mumbles, again.

Shoot

Shoot melts into your kiss, a soft gasp of surprise escaping him as you kiss him, and he responds quietly, his hands hovering as if afraid to touch you. He's timid, but also hungry, desperate to feel your lips upon his.

His body presses against yours as your lips touch, and he makes another soft gasp as his hands finally touch your skin. You take his hands in mine and place them on your waist. Shoot hands freeze as they slide against your waist. His fingertips touch your hip, gently wrapping around you. He swallows hard, the sound loud in the quiet, as he pulls you closer. He lets his fingers explore your back, sliding up to your shoulders. His hands are cold, but not unwelcome. He keeps going, as if he's lost himself in the simple pleasure of touching you. "Your skin…it's so warm," he murmurs, voice a little breathless. The words are like smoke from his lips, his body shivering against yours. "I didn't expect—"

A soft noise sounds from his throat, and Shoot tugs you closer against himself, his body molding against yours like clay. "It's been too long. I've missed the touch of warm skin," he complains, leaning forward to bury his face into your neck.

Uvogin

Uvogin is in control— a gentle yet calloused hand against the sensitive skin of your jaw, lips moving against yours. When he speaks, his voice is soft, gentle, and deep- "Mmmm, I could kiss you forever." He murmurs against your lips, his thumb tracing soft patterns upon your neck, as if mapping out the shape of your pulse.

He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, gently nipping, then kissing again. He's pinning you against a wall, his body trapping you against it, his hips against yours.

Another kiss, deep and hungry, tongue pressing against your lips in an almost desperate demand for more of you. Uvogin doesn't speak, his mouth busy, claiming, exploring.  His hands roam up your back, pulling you flush to his chest. "You're so perfect," he mutters in between kisses, his voice husky, heavy with a desire he seems unable to control. One hand slides into your hair, holding your head in place, his body pressing you down, holding you in place against the wall.

His lips travel down your jawline, across your neck, teeth nipping and tongue soothing in a pattern that is both maddening and delicious.

Wing

Wings tongue slips between your lips as he draws you in for a kiss. His hands grip at your body, pulling you close, pressing you close until you can barely move. His head tilts slightly to the side, lips moving at a slow, torturous pace. He seems to drink you in, savoring the taste of you. He's gentle, oh so gentle, and yet at the same time he can't bring his lips away from yours. "Please," he whispers, his voice a low growl when he pulls away just enough to speak. "Please don't let me go, not now. I haven't seen you in weeks."

Wings arms are wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you tight against him as if he'll die if he lets you go.

He presses his body close to yours, his head leaning on your shoulder. He's desperate for a moment of peace and your presence, and yet he knows that you could leave at any moment. "I won't." Wing grip around you tightens at those words. He inhales shakily, his body shuddering. His breath brushes over your neck, warm against your skin.

"Say it again." He demands, lifting his head to look up at you. Despite his firm tone, his eyes are soft, almost pleading. He's desperate to hear it from you, for you to reassure him.

"I won't leave you." When you promise him that, he releases a shuddering breath. "Thank you."

[aifanfictions]

write a story about (y/n) being a part of the extermination team that was supposed to fight Meruem (from the anime Hunter x Hunter) and his ants but during the attack, when Meruem lays eyes on her, he instantly becomes attracted to (y/n) and starts courting her in front of everyone (Gon, Killua, the Chairman, the other exterminators).

Unexpected Allure

The underground palace was steeped in an eerie silence, an unusual calm before the storm. The extermination team, including (Y/N), had spent countless hours preparing for the confrontation with Meruem, the Chimera Ant King. They had honed their abilities, sharpened their resolve, and steeled themselves for what was expected to be an epic battle. However, the events that unfolded were far from anyone's expectations.

Meruem, a figure of unparalleled power and authority, stood before them like a mythical deity. His silver hair cascaded like a waterfall, and his crimson eyes held a mesmerizing quality, captivating all who met his gaze. But when those crimson eyes locked onto (Y/N), something extraordinary happened. His heart, a heart that had never before known vulnerability, began to beat with an unfamiliar rhythm.

In the tension-filled atmosphere, Meruem raised a hand, halting the impending attack by his Royal Guards. The members of the extermination team froze in their tracks, bewildered by the King's sudden order. Pitou, Pouf, and Youpi exchanged perplexed glances, unsure of what to make of the situation.

"(Y/N)," Meruem's voice carried an almost hypnotic quality, a voice that transcended the battlefield and resonated deep within (Y/N)'s soul, "come forward."

(Y/N) took cautious steps toward Meruem, her senses on high alert. She met the Chimera Ant King's gaze, and as their eyes locked, an inexplicable connection formed. His gaze was filled with a rare vulnerability, an emotion he couldn't name but couldn't ignore.

The Chairman, Gon, Killua, and the other hunters watched in astonishment as Meruem approached (Y/N) with a regal grace. He extended his hand toward her, a gesture that defied the expectations of all those present.

"I cannot ignore this pull I feel towards you," he admitted, his voice a mixture of sincerity and bewilderment. "Will you accept my invitation to converse, (Y/N)?"

(Y/N)'s heart pounded in her chest as she considered her options. She understood the gravity of the situation, but it was clear that Meruem had no intention of hostilities—at least for now. She nodded, her curiosity and the subtle intrigue of Meruem's newfound emotions compelling her to agree.

The other members of the extermination team watched in silent amazement as Meruem led (Y/N) away from the group, away from the battlefield, and towards a quieter chamber within the palace. The Chairman's stern expression betrayed a hint of curiosity, and Gon and Killua exchanged bewildered glances.

Inside the chamber, (Y/N) and Meruem found themselves in a surreal moment of unexpected connection. The King had set aside his regal demeanor and revealed a vulnerability he had never known. He listened intently to (Y/N), fascinated by her tales of the human world, her experiences, and her unwavering dedication to the extermination team's mission.

As they talked, Meruem's enigmatic facade began to crumble. He confessed that he had never encountered such depth in another being, and his fascination with (Y/N)'s intelligence, strength, and kindness continued to grow. He marveled at her ability to maintain her composure and grace in the face of adversity.

Outside the chamber, the members of the extermination team remained on edge, unable to fathom the surreal turn of events. Their meticulously planned mission had taken an unforeseen detour into a realm of the unknown, and Meruem was courting a member of the extermination team. It was a sight that defied all logic and expectation.

"(Y/N)," Meruem said, his voice filled with a rare vulnerability, "I understand the gravity of our circumstances, but I cannot deny the pull of my heart. You are a rarity in this world, and I am captivated by you."

(Y/N) couldn't help but be moved by Meruem's words. His sincerity, the depth of his emotions, and the transformation he was undergoing were both astonishing and captivating. She understood that in this strange and unforeseen turn of events, they might have a unique opportunity to find a peaceful resolution to the conflict.

The hours turned into days, and the connection between (Y/N) and Meruem deepened. They laughed, shared stories, and even discovered common interests. They explored the mysteries of the palace, discussing topics that ranged from art to philosophy, and from history to the beauty of the natural world.

One evening, as they stood by a grand window that overlooked a lush garden, Meruem turned to (Y/N), his voice filled with a quiet sincerity. "I want to protect this world, our sanctuary, and the moments we've shared."

(Y/N) smiled, her eyes brimming with warmth. "You're already doing that, Meruem, simply by embracing change and seeking understanding."

Outside the chamber, the Chairman, Gon, Killua, and the other hunters continued to observe the unfolding situation, their unease giving way to contemplation. The battle they had anticipated had taken an astonishing turn, as Meruem and (Y/N) engaged in a dialogue of unprecedented depth and significance.

The sun set outside the palace, casting a breathtaking palette of colors across the sky, and Meruem and (Y/N) continued to explore the recesses of their hearts. Their connection, once born from an unexpected encounter on the battlefield, had grown into a profound and transformative bond.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Meruem realized that he was in uncharted territory, not just as a King but as a being who had discovered the complexities of human emotions. And (Y/N), a member of the extermination team, had become his anchor in this new world of feelings.

In the heart of the palace, amidst the soft glow of candlelight, their love story continued to unfold. They navigated the uncharted waters of attraction, admiration, and understanding, proving that love could blossom even in the most unexpected and improbable of circumstances.

As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, the world watched in astonishment as the bond between (Y/N) and Meruem deepened, their love growing stronger with each passing moment. The once-mighty Chimera Ant King, a symbol of power and conquest, had undergone a profound transformation, becoming a protector of the palace and a guardian of the delicate bond that had unraveled his heart.

The story of Meruem and (Y/N) challenged the understanding of power, attraction, and transformation. It was a tale of unexpected allure, the kind that could reshape destinies and defy the odds. Love had found a way to bridge the gap between enemies, and in the heart of the Chimera Ant King, it had awakened a desire for change, a yearning for understanding, and a profound connection that transcended the boundaries of the battlefield.

In the end, their love story became a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, the transformative power of emotions, and the capacity for growth, even in the most unlikely of hearts. It was a tale of two worlds colliding, a bond that had the potential to change the course of history and prove that the heart, no matter how powerful, could always find its way to a new melody—a melody of love.

And so, in the heart of an underground palace, amidst the chaos of a mission-turned-love story, the unexpected allure of Meruem and (Y/N) continued to echo like a poignant melody, reminding the world that love could be found in the most extraordinary of places and with the most unlikely of partners.

NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI

[sonamytrash]

Because Meruem is my hear me out character, here's my first Ai character bot.

Warnings: I think I've given him a slight breeding kink 😏 sorry not sorry)

Enjoy

[bwabys-scenarios]

Shaved or not? HXH characters edition

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: I just had the most random need to write out what their pubic hair looks like… it kind of helps characterizing them for smut later on. I may do this with the ADULT jjk characters as well.

warning: talking about pubic hair, misogyny in Illumi’s and internalized misogyny in Kikyo’s, suggestive content

Kurapika

For his partner:

Kurapika isn’t too picky, and won’t care if you shave or not. He does have a preference for unshaven pussy though, he’s not sure why.

Himself:

He keeps himself trimmed, but rarely shaves off all his pubic hair. It’s blonde, neat, and soft!

Leorio

For his partner:

He’s very loud about his preference for unshaven pussy, but won’t complain either way. Once he’s between your legs it doesn’t make much of a difference.

For himself:

He tries to keep himself trimmed and neat, but alas he’s a bit wild down there. His hair is a bit wiry, but not unpleasant to the touch.

Illumi

For his partner:

On one hand, he holds onto the stupid misogynistic thought that women should be hairless for their husbands, but on the other he really loves hairy pussy…… let’s just say he unlearns a lot of the things he’s been taught when he’s with you

For himself:

He shaves, waxes sometimes even. When you randomly catch him between shaving, his pubic hair is really soft!

Chrollo

For his partner:

Mmm… I think he has a preference for shaven pussy, but again I don’t see him as being particularly picky? If he’s feeling really needy he’ll shave your pussy for you. After all, it’s safer if he does it, he can see better and has much more precise hands!

For himself:

He shaves most of the time, but will go hairy if you ask. He likes to at least stay trimmed up and neat though!

Feitan

For his partner:

He will grumble if you talk about shaving, so let’s just say he definitely has a preference for unshaven pussy.

For himself:

He naturally doesn’t have a lot of hair, so he doesn’t have much of a choice. If you ask him to shave the little hair he has he will, otherwise he doesn’t have to do much maintenance(lucky)

Shalnark

For his partner:

PICKY!! He likes it hairy and will whine and pout when you shave. He’s only okay with you trimming it, and likes when you trim it into a little landing strip or a heart(he thinks it’s cute)

For himself:

He has soft, pretty pubic hair. He’ll occasionally shave or trim it, but otherwise he lets it grow wild.

Uvogin

For his partner:

Unshaven. He needs hairy pussy, and loves shoving his nose into your pubic hair to inhale your natural scent.

For himself:

His pubic hair is wild and wiry. He doesn’t shave or trim, but will do some light maintenance if asked

Phinks

For his partner:

He likes bald pussy, but will never state it. He’s just happy when he pulls your panties down and sees you’re freshly shaved for him :3

For himself:

He shaves, and maintains it pretty well. Probably subscribed to manscape 😭

Nobunaga

For his partner:

No real preference, he’s desperate for pussy so he’ll dive in face first no matter what. He does get a little harder when you shaved recently tho!

For himself:

Before he met you he just let it grow wild, but now that you’re having sex he keeps it trimmed. His hair is decently soft, if a bit stringy

Shizuku

For her partner:

She likes it shaved, but with a landing strip or cute pattern. She likes to nuzzle her nose into the little bit of hair!

For herself:

She keeps that thang bald. It’s just easier!

Machi

For her partner:

She has a preference for hairy pussy… but she’s another one that won’t complain either way. She just loves being between your legs!

For herself:

She keeps herself trimmed, but she’s decently hairy, and yes it’s pink! Soft too, like twirl your finger in it soft

Pakunoda

For her partner:

She has a very blatant preference for hairy pussy, and will tell you straight up that’s what she wants. If you want to shave, she won’t stop you though. Your comfort and happiness comes first.

For herself:

She keeps herself shaved, with a landing strip. Sometimes she’ll stop shaving and just occasionally trim everything to keep her pubic hair nice and tidy. It’ll never be wild, just know that.

Silva

For his partner:

He likes it wild and hairy… idk where illumi got the thought that women needed to be hairless from(wait yes I do, it was his mom)

For himself:

Also wild. He trims occasionally, but other than that his hair is decently soft and long

Kikyo

For her partner:

Bald. She believes women should shave their pussies! But… she has a secret preference for hairy pussy(it’s been suppressed)

For herself:

Because of her beliefs, her pussy is also bald!

Meruem

For his partner:

He has no idea about human norms, so he doesn’t even register that you can shave down there. He seems to have a preference for however he sees your pussy first.

For himself:

He doesn’t… have hair…

Knuckle

For his partner:

Unshaven! He thinks hairy pussy is hot, what can he say?

For himself:

He keeps himself neat and trimmed for his partner, how polite!

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

hxh theory: the dark continent creatures have a weakness for love.

first of all, the chimera ant arc. netero has a constant theme of love, wearing a shirt with the kanji 心 on it, which means heart. hearts are often associated with love, and netero makes a heart shape with his hands later in the arc when (i think?) he is fighting meruem.

all three of the chimera ant royal guards died because they loved meruem so much and were so loyal to him. pouf and youpi both went into poisonous flames and liquified their cells in order to save meruem, which led to both of their deaths. pitou was scared that gon was going to fight meruem, which ultimately led them to attack gon, leading to their nearly immediate death (although gon was always pretty dead set on killing pitou.)

meruem died in the arms of the one he loved most: komugi. he refused to continue fighting after remembering komugi, and much of his maturity was formed through his gungi games with komugi and love for her.

now evidence no. 2, ai (nanika)

first, i would like to make a note that ai’s name has pronunciation for the kanji of 爱, which means love. alluka and nanika were both loved by no one except for killua, not even her other family members.

that is also the reason why killua gets special privileges when it comes to nanika’s wishes. essentially, killua could probably wish for meruem’s death without a consequence.

when killua asks nanika to heal gon at the hospital, nanika continues to say “i love you” to killua over and over again. i may be cherry picking evidence here, but i’d also like to point out that she said it in the presence of gon, who was only in his current state because he fought a dark continent creature and made a dangerous nen vow.

so uh yeah ig

@opalwatch @monosanimegenericzone opinions???