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running-with-kn1ves · 9 hours
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Fitness Trainer
A/N: I blended some french terms of endearment with English don't come for me. But is Antoine really French, or is he feigning this way to get closer to you? (Had a fem idea for this too)
Synopsis: Another day at the gym, your personalized trainer is helping you out a lot more intimately than he would with most clients.
TW: Creep gym trainer, yandere themes, mentions of future stalking/imagined groping, sensual content
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And up... and down, just like that."
The squeeze on your hips kept you stable, even with your fingers shaking, mouth agape as hot breath was sucked in, and out. 
"One more, you can do one more for me."
"I can't..." you huffed, thighs quaking as the barbell on your shoulders made you ache. 
"Yes you can. C'mon sweetheart, we'll do it together."
He gripped the barbell beside where your sweating hands were, chest flush against your back as his feet entrapped the outside of your own. 
“Do it with me now,” He pulled the weight lower, forcing you to squat despite the agony in your ankles and tailbone. “Push through it, baby.”
The sweet name just slipped out, breathy against your ear as his hot exhales slowed compared to your huffs. It almost made you slip.
You could feel the muscles in your wrists shaking, vision going blurry as sweat drips into your eyes. One of his hands leaves the barbell to grip your hip, forcing you back into a standing position as your knees nearly give out. 
You rise slowly back up with the barbell in your hands, nearly groaning in pain at the strain. You finally lift your arms to your chest, finishing the rep with a strained frown as your personal trainer forces the weight off of your arms. His taller stature makes it easy to put the barbell back on the rack in front of you. 
You feel as if you could collapse, an hour and a half of intense training brought upon by your own determination leaving you exhausted and a little discouraged. You thought you could do more, push yourself harder-- but at the end of the day, the amount of reps your body would let you do, was it. You’d crack if you tried to go even further, end up tearing something or worse. 
Your trainer could tell; the way you sweat, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept that hard, strained look with each motion he made you do. 
“I hate to say it, but you’re done for today.” 
You look up at him from your place on the ground, water bottle hanging from your grip as you try to catch your breath. 
Antoine had only worked with you for a couple weeks now, what started as once a week now thrice, if you had the time after work of course. But somehow, he always enticed you to come back. 
His body, which should’ve been motivation, was more or less disheartening-- rippling muscles and bulging quads peeking beneath his tight ‘TRAINER’ black tee and athletic shorts as the perfect ensemble. 
He was so sweet, so encouraging and upsettingly positive. Always filling up your water bottle, saying how he’s always admiring the growth of muscle definition in your back, giving you light touches to show which area of your body that a machine might work out. He even offered post-exercise massages to make sure you didn’t get sore after each session, free of cost as a perk of joining the gym’s ‘premium membership’, an idea he sold you on. That, along with the complementary protein shakes made that were hi “specialty.”
You knew it was his job to hook you in, but who could say no to that sweet meathead’s face? Which is why you were here, on a late saturday afternoon, in this nearly empty gym with him that he convinced you to love. 
You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, even if he was the one persuading you, offering to use his time off to come in and help train you.
“Feelin’ sore?” Antoine bends down next to you, offering a small towel from his pocket. The twinge of accent in his speech makes him sound funny, dry lips parted as he looks you over. “You went harder than usual today.” 
“Yeah,” You let out after a gulp of water. “Definitely gonna feel this later tonight; ha, maybe I’ll actually take you up on one of those massages.” 
You point with your water bottle, grinning tiredly as Antoine’s eyes seem to shine. He licks his lips to hide a giddy grin. 
“Of course-- definitely, I’d be more than happy to. These hands can work magic you wouldn’t believe.”
Antoine shuffles behind you, pulling at your shoulders to make you sit up straight. 
“Wha- you mean right now? I’m all, sticky.” 
“Now’s the best time, your muscles are just coming down from the effort they’ve exerted. Best to prevent any aches and pains as soon as possible rather than waiting.” 
He begins gentle rubs against the base of your neck; vast, warm fingers grace your collar with a softness you hadn’t expected. Usually when people try to massage your shoulders they’re too harsh, too grippy; but Antoine was rhythmic, pushing into your back with his palms as he made his way down to your shoulder blades. 
“But considering you’ve pushed so hard, I don’t want to see you back here for a couple of days.” Antoine insisted.
“Awe, you want me outa here that badly?” You joked, laying your head forward as Antoine’s fingers made their way to the back of your neck, running pressed thumbs down from your hairline. “I see how it is, prefer your other clients over me.” 
It felt sort of weird, having him massage you so deeply on the gym floor out in the open. But the only person here in the middle of the afternoon was an older woman, paying more attention to her cellphone on the treadmill than anything you two were doing. 
Antoine shook your shoulders. 
“Don’t say that, now!” He leaned his head over next to yours from behind, getting so close your nose almost brushed against his cheek. “It’s not funny; I hope you don’t see me that way.”
“It’s just a joke,” You titter, running your handtowel down the front of your shirt.
“I never understand your jokes.” He sighs, hands moving down to your tailbone. He lifts the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, digging his hands against the soft flesh. 
“Woah, hey,” You turn to look at him, but his head is down, looking at his fingers. 
“I have to get to your hips, you can’t do so many squats without release. And at the rate you were going to day… well, you see what I mean.”
The bottom of your tanktop covers his knuckles as he pulls and kneads the skin of your lower back. 
“O-okay.. I guess..” 
He’s not usually so insistent, but he seems so genuine about it-- and, he’s the trainer, shouldn’t they know best? 
He begins with little strokes to your skin, almost caressing. You grow anxious until his thumbs push deep lines into your flesh. 
“Does that feel a little better, Mon cœur? Less pain?” He asks up close, staring at your heated and perspiring cheeks. 
You’re awed by how good it actually feels, the tension melting away with each push of his knuckles into your skin, and grip of his hands around your waist as each of his thumbs digs into your sides. 
“Yeah… feels a lot better..” 
“You can rest your head on my shoulder, don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”
You do as he says, arching your back with your head against his shoulder. He had easier access into your back, working his hands up beneath your shirt to reach your mid abdomen.
The deeper Antoine kneaded, the farther he grew up your back, the more… audible, his groans became. Each dip was another breathy moan into your ear. It was fine at first, just the sounds of his work; and then, it became almost, uncomfortably sensual. 
“Just like that...” He mumbled, giving a deep hum.
With your neck so close, his nose dips against your jaw to sneak a sharp inhale of your scent. It was heightened from your hour of strenuous work, a smell he couldn’t get enough of. 
But you jumped forward before he could nuzzle as deep against you as he wished. 
“Uh! Thanks, I feel a lot better now. Really… got all the kinks out.” 
You clutch your towel, facing your trainer to prevent him from working his “magic fingers” again. 
“Of course. And that’s just a taste, a fully body massage would leave the workout you just completed to drain away, as if it was just a dream.” He wiggles his hands with a sheepish grin, one so simple and sincere your guard fell again.
Sure, guys at the gym could be creeps, but he was your trainer, eyes kind and a little foreignly clueless, who only wanted to see you thrive; he’d never try something with you, his client. 
“Yeah, maybe next time. But now, I need to shower and get this stink off of me.” You bring yourself to your feet, all wobbly and achy-galore. Even with Antoine’s work on your shoulders, you can feel your back beginning to seize up. It’s gonna be hard to bend down for a while. 
Offering a hand to Antoine still on the rubbery gym floor, he takes it with a slight ease. He doesn’t use the weight in his hand to get up, knowing he’d just drag you back down to the floor if he did. 
“Thanks again-- I mean, I know it’s your job but--” 
“Don’t thank me; it’s always a treat to have you here, my cherie. I’d train you for free, you know!” 
You laugh, flattered at the idea. If you were a bit more forward, you’d ask him for that little perk. Hey, paying for his service certainly wasn’t cheap!
Making your way to the bathroom, you thank your lucky stars the hard part’s over. Too bad you can’t look at Antoine’s pretty face anymore, though. 
Antoine on the other hand, follows your stumbling body with his eyes, watching as you disappear behind the water fountain and bathroom door. 
His eyes jut back and forth between the machines and front door for witnesses, seeing none before snatching up your forgotten towel. How’d you never notice they didn’t just give these things out? 
He’d brought the cute handkerchief from home, wanting to appear the most of a gentleman. And, in the hopes that you’d use it every and anywhere. 
Oh, he thrived off that scent, pushing the white damp cloth heavy against his nose. It smelled even more potent of you, moreso than the few inches away of sniffs he usually got. 
His tongue just barely brushed against it, writhing in ecstasy from how it still held the stickiness of your sweat. You didn’t know how intoxicating it was to him, watching each bead of sweat leave your neck, the dip of your back when he got the chance to help hold that barbell with you… it was almost maddening, how strictly he had to restrain himself from lapping at your hot skin and running his hands beneath your gymwear. 
 No, he had to save this for later. What would his manager think if he saw him acting so ferally? 
Besides, there were more important matters to attend to. Such as, taking out the bathroom trash, a simple excuse to slide his manager for the opportunity to watch you shower. 
Who knew working here would have such great advantages in getting close to you. 
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running-with-kn1ves · 10 hours
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As soon as the demon appeared in the summoning circle, the sorcerer made his demand.
"Teach me how to summon angels!"
"Can't be done," the demon said.
"Why not? I can summon demons!"
"When we rebelled, we lost the Lord's protection. When you call, we must answer."
"Damn!"
"Yes."
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No better way to start a Monday.
Excuse while I drool.
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"How can you write romance if you're asexual?" The same way I write fight scenes despite never having elbowed some dude in the small intestine: Really badly and I don't know what I'm talking about pls I'm sorry-
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Time to take the sacrament, Angel 😇
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Owned By The Demon Admiral (AFAB Reader Version)
Male Demon Yandere x AFAB Demon Reader CW: Noncon/dubcon, terms like pussy used for reader's genitals, yandere DILF, general yandere behavior, groping, biting, captive reader, reader is setup, an overly cute semi-aquatic demon cat named Mr. Sir Buttons Word Count: 2k (I am saying this fic is AFAB versus female because no gendered pronouns are ever used at all for the reader in anyway, rather their genitals are biologically female. Terms like pussy/cunt are used so if that is triggering for you please avoid this fic. This was a birthday gift for a friend normally I don't do AFAB reader so this may be a bit sloppy. I hope you enjoy it.)
The battleship you were on drifted through the calm blood red waters of one of Hell’s oceans. The light of the two suns scintillated beautifully off the serene waves. No evidence at all that your ship had just sunk an enemy vessel, condemning the unlucky demons manning it to death.
In the ensuing ebullience at having survived with no damage the leader of the ship, Admiral Oraan, put one hand behind on your ass and one behind your head and pulled you into a passionate kiss as his tail began to wrap around your leg.
You struggled to push off the larger demon but finally he released you. You steadied yourself and gasped for breath.
“I said no!”
Then you stormed off to your quarters.
This wasn’t the first time your commanding officer had done something like this. This was at least the fourth time you had rebuffed his advances. He just wouldn’t get it through his thick skull. You were focused strictly on your military career. The war against Pride, one of the Princes of Hell, was far too important for romance and sex to get in the way.
But you underestimated his desire for you. And his rage. You should have assumed that the highest ranking admiral in Wrath’s fleet would have some severe anger issues. But you naively thought that service to his prince would take priority over his feelings for you.
The first thing he had done was to sabotage your quarters during inspection. You didn’t know it was his doing and were angered and paranoid that someone would thrash your space in such a way, causing you to get written up.
In reality it was all Oraan. A rising action in the story of your downfall.
The next thing that was done to ruin your uniforms. He told you it was disrespectful to the prince you all served, to the branch you served, and to him to have your uniforms in such a state.
After that it was a more serious infraction. Reported for contraband that was then found in your locker.
The final, and most infuriating, nail in the coffin happened in the next skirmish. A small opponent, easy to sink and posing only a slight threat to the hellish dreadnought on which you served. But Oraan had forced multiple witnesses to claim you were a coward. That you had abandoned your station and hid in your quarters while the rest of the crew gallantly manned their posts.
This led to you having to be court-martialed. No time to dock and have more formal proceedings. You had to be court-martialed right on the ship. Despite the evidence against you, you thought that once you were given your chance to make your arguments and have your comrades vouch for your behavior and character then this would all disappear.
That isn’t quite how things played out for you. You started the court-martial optimistic but with each passing moment a sense of dread became stronger and stronger. Each witness, people you had respected and thought of as your friends, gave damning testimony. They painted you as a belligerent, lazy, neglectful oaf. Someone who cared nothing for duty, rules, or honor.
You had to hold back tears as your body shook with rage and sorrow. Why were they saying such things? Why were they lying about you and your actions and character?
It finally became obvious when the sentence was passed. Not death, as might befit someone who fled from combat. Not dishonorable discharge. No, you were being reassigned. As Oraan’s personal attendant. “A non-combat role where no one would be harmed by your cowardly behavior.”
It was all him. He had pressured or otherwise bribed everyone to turn against you. To lie about you. All to get you in his clutches and punish you for rejecting him. And there was nothing you could do about it. He was an older and stronger demon, you’d have no hope to beat him in a fight. And even if you somehow managed it, how would you escape on a ship? And if by some miracle you either made it to land or just waited until the ship was docked you would be chased for all eternity.
No, he had you in your clutches. Your only hope was that your contract with the navy was almost up. You were only to be enlisted for five years at a time before you had to renew. The only exception for that being prolonged was if a hot war was going on, but this one was nearing its end. Since all that happened was the court-martial was just technically a reassignment you were only bound by the terms of your enlistment.
All you had to do was endure for ten months.
It was humiliating. Oraan really wanted to keep you reminded of your new position. You had to be at his side constantly. Obeying all his orders and whims. You had to press his uniforms and get his meals. And in private the tasks got much worse.
Sucking his girthy cock was a common “request” of his. Almost daily. You also had to bathe with him most nights. This required you to wash his entire well-muscled form. If you were a willing participant you would have enjoyed it, he was very attractive, the tattoo of an anchor on his left shoulder and the three large scars on his ribs adding to his rugged allure.
But you weren’t a willing participant. And bathing him usually led to him giving you an “inspection.” That was where he touched, kissed, groped every inch of you before sliding his cock into your hot pussy, slowly fucking into you until he came hard. His tongue, of course, had to probe your mouth during these inspections, “just to be thorough.”
It was good that he had you eat meals with him in his private quarters, because you didn’t think you’d be able to look any of the other crew members in the eye ever again. The ones that hadn’t been involved in fucking over your entire life were the ones that believed the lies about you. On the entire ship you had not a single ally. The only one you could confide in was Mr. Sir Buttons, the semi-aquatic demonic cat that served as the mascot and unofficial morale officer on the ship.
You were on your way back from taking your food trays back to the galley when you felt something soft rub against your leg. Mr. Sir Buttons! You had a few minutes before you had to be back with Oraan so you stooped down and picked him up. He purred loudly.
“At least I never have to worry about you betraying me.”
He meowed as if in affirmation. You nuzzled his thick, red, waterproof fur before placing him back down to go about his very important demonic cat business.
When you got back to Oraan’s quarters he was naked on the bed. His large prick standing erect and ready for the attention you would surely have to give it, a bead of precum running down the length evidently in anticipation.
You sighed in resignation and began to strip your clothing. You had been doing this for over a month now. Only less than nine more to go. You could do it, just one moment at a time.
Too excited after leering at your naked form, he couldn’t wait for you to come to him anymore. Instead he got up and used his strong arms to pick you up and pin you to the bed. He stole your lips with his, kissing you in a greedy frenzy, his large cock swung below as he groped your chest.
“Mine! I can’t believe after all these years you’re finally all mine!”
He bit your neck, causing you to moan involuntarily. But maybe you should just give into the pleasure of the situation. It was going to happen either way and you’d be able to move on with your life once this was all over anyway. Besides, getting into it a bit might just help him finish faster so you’d have less time stuck in this position.
Oraan massaged the outside of your cunt before sliding a couple of fingers into you to get you wet and ready for his large prick.
When he lined his cock up with your drooling entrance, rough hands on your hips, you didn’t look away or flinch as you would normally. You wrapped your arms and legs around him instead, allowing him the perfect angle to slam deeply into your pussy. He grinned, ecstatic that you finally seemed to have not only learned your place but were actively embracing it. He slammed down with hard but slow thrusts. Each one making you gasp and each one punctuated with another kiss or nip up your neck.
Lewd squelching noises emanated from your sex as he increased the tempo of your lovemaking.
Had any of the crew passed the admiral’s quarters on their way through the halls all they would have heard was the rhythmic slap of Oraan’s nuts against your skin as he bred you along with the occasional grunt or swear from him or moan from you.
“Fuck! I love you so much!”
You only drooled a bit while looking up at him dumbly with lustful eyes, having been fucked nearly senseless. You scratched his shoulders with your sharp demonic nails as you pulled him closer to you in an attempt to somehow get him deeper. You were near your climax, desperate for it.
The pain from your nails spurred him on, causing him to fuck you at a new pace that straddle the line between pain and pleasure. You winced as he came hard, your tight clenching walls milking his cock and sending him over the edge soon after.
He gave a few final thrusts into you to empty his balls good and deep before pulling out and holding you tight, caging you in with his sweat-slicked body. You went limp from exhaustion, practically basking in the afterglow that always followed such intense, passionate sex. If you didn’t know any better you could have mistaken Oraan for a lust demon. Though you imagined saying such a thing to his face would have him prove instantly that he was, in fact, a being of wrath.
When the two of you had recovered he took you into the small shower with him. This time around, he cleaned you. Gently washing your body of cum and sweat before rinsing your hair. Far more tender behavior than you would have thought possible from the stern leader. Maybe there was more wisdom to just being more open to your predicament than you had initially thought.
It was a change in your behavior that hadn’t gone unnoticed by the man who had orchestrated the vast shift in your life circumstances.
“Finally decided to give in, huh?” Came his gruff voice from behind you.
You had no reason to be dishonest or hide your thoughts from him.
“Well, my contract is up in just a few months. I am not going to renew so this assignment is only temporary. I figured it’ll go by faster if I just accept it.”
He laughed and pulled you close to him, you could feel his stubble on your neck as he whispered words that made your fiery demon blood run cold.
“With my power, influence, and wealth I can assure you that your signature will keep renewing that contract for eternity, sweetheart. Whether you sign it yourself or not. Even if we aren’t deployed I will find a way to keep you with me.”
You went limp and would have fallen to the floor had he not had his arms wrapped tightly around you. The room felt like it was spinning. You barely took note of the water trailing down your skin or the chaste kiss he pressed to your cheek.
It was over for you, now that Oraan finally had you there was absolutely nothing that would make the older demon give you up.
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Butch werewolf woman who- and she doesn’t wear a bra under her shirt- and she uhm she’s like uh sweaty and let’s me fuck her also and also she’s so hot and mean to me but still a bottom and makes fun of me for being small and weaks and hmm
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omg hi so i was wondering if u could make like a yan x yan fic with heizou and the reader's "darling" is xiao except xiao is cold and doesn't like him back.
you genshiners are going to have to force feed me its lore there IS TOO MUCH theres like 50 characters and on TOP of that there's honkai star rail?? dear god... I'm so sorry I'd love to write for your genshin meow meows but I am too unfamiliar with all the little guys to write well for it :'((
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If you did end up buying stardew, plz download some of the yandere mods and give us ur thoughts
loved that new edira scenario btw 💝
THATS A THING???? oh buddy... you have opened a dangerous gateway!! I heard that after you get married the interactions aren't nearly as rewarding or often but hearing this lil perk I am THOROUGHLY intrigued. (OH and thanks! It was so angsty but I am in love with bath scenarios so I just had to do an edgy one with edira >:DD)
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Medusa & the Blind Woman
Art by Jenifer Prince (x)
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I started watching dungeon meshi/ delicious in dungeon and im HOOKED.... i'd write for it if I had a brain but for now I love just obsessing over senshi and marcille's/falin's relationship through the fanart and each episode. Anime fans PLEASE you will miss out if you don't watch it, its so wholesome & the animation/art is well done, plus the cooking concepts are so interesting that shit is sooo satisfying for my skull. also...orcs 👀
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Just a random friendly reminder (self promo plug) that my commissions/ko-fi are currently open if you want to see a special character, monster, or trope written! I'm being very frugal with spending and will be for the next few months to pay for a lot of events that are happening in my life soon! (aka just forked out a shit ton of savings and cannot bear to dig my hand in that jar again unless necessary...)
Hope everyone's finals, jobs, and living situations are slaying currently, I know this year has been extra hard with finances and political issues but holyshit-- 2025 yall!!!
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your kidnapper verbally detailing their sick fantasies to you and then very softly saying come here
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She really loves her bull.
Cover art for an ongoing comic: patreon.com/monstercrave
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Yan-Poll #9
[The Stalker Part 1]
Strange things have been happening to you lately.
It started small with the discomfort of always feeling like you were being watched. Of course, you never met someone's eyes when you turned around, and you tried to brush it off as best as you could. But even when you started minimalizing your time outdoors, unexplainable things started to happen in your own house. Things were moved when you weren't looking, the space next to you in your bed was warm when you woke up, and you found strange devices around the house that you couldn't explain.
You went to the police, but there was nothing they could do.
So you installed cameras, and lo and behold, there he was. The creep that had intruded into your life. It didn't even take him a day of caution before you watched on your computer as the black silhoutte stared directly into the camera, his eyes hidden behind a black mask. He made a heart gesture with his hands before breaking into your bedroom window in the early hours of the morning, seemingly with ease. As if he knew what he was doing. Unafraid.
There was no way you could have stayed in the house. But even when you moved from your childhood home to your friends home, your stalker made sure you noticed that he was still around, one way or another. Worse, even with the footage, the police was still unable to catch him.
Feeling defeated and scared, you eventually mustered the strength to go home. Even with him making his presence known, he hadn't done anything to you, and somehow you had to look forward into the future and reclaim the life that his terror had stolen from you.
Everything was clean and tidy, unlike you expected. You found some things out of place, like books that didn't belong in certain shelves, but it definitely looked like he had tried to arrange them correctly, but wasn't sure where they went. It made you smile faintly as you took out your favorite childhood book. But only for a brief moment before you stuffed the book right back into the actual place it belonged and tried to get used to the old but new enviroment of your own home.
Until the door rang.
You didn't expect any visitors. Up to this point, you two had never interacted. At least, nothing more than the few stare-offs through the camera. Yet... you knew it was him.
You braced yourself, your phone clutched in your hand while you grabbed an umbrella standing in the entrance. Things could get messy quickly, but maybe if you were able to just let him know you didn't want anything from him, maybe he could be reasoned with. With bated breath you unlocked one of the locks you had installed on your door, just enough to open a gap, and gathering all your courage you opened it, only to find...
Nothing. Well, not nothing. Just no one.
You stood there for a while, contemplating what was going on, when your gaze fell to the ground, a stark white envelop resting there. You waited for a moment more, expecting someone to jump out if you weren't looking. But eventually, you squatted down, fishing the envelop through the gap and closing it again. Nervously, you messed with the opening until you could pull out the paper inside.
Welcome home, baby! :) Please wear the clothes I put into the closet for you tomorrow ♥ Can't wait to see you in them!
Feeling a sense of panic, you got up, hurriedly walking into your bedroom and throwing open the closet doors. All your clothes had vanished, only a small, neatly-folded pile sat in one of the shelves, a post-it on them.
P.S. I'm glad my little mishap with the book made you smile. I'll do anything to see you smile ♥
Goosebumps ran over your whole body as you realized he must have just been here if he saw you smile briefly just minutes ago and then placed the note here. Maybe he still was? You stopped breathing, listening intensely if there were any other sounds you hadn't noticed before. Your home was silent.
Hesitantly, you pulled out the clothes he had prepare. Soft, expensive, skimpy. The outfit your stalker put together was much too raunchy for your taste but it would still work even in an office setting. You'd be covered with trousers and a blazer, but the top that was supposed to act like a shirt was see-through and lacey as if it was lingerie. You were sure to turn some heads if you wore it to your job.
Refusing him didn't seem to have any immediate consequences, but at the same time, after already being terrorized for so long, could you really refuse such a small request? Certainly, it would prompt him to get bolder... But at the same time, despite showcasing he could, he never confronted you. There was no saying if refusing him would cause any issues, even if it seemed likely. But maybe you had just become incredible paranoid.
(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)
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Love knots. Love the idea of knotting. Like oh nooooooo, ig we HAVE to cockwarm and cuddle in each others warm embrace with your cock buried deep inside me. Ugh that sucksssss :((
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