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1. When will you update [insert fanfic here]/Can you write a fic about [insert fandom]?
A: We are not the authors of any of the fics on the site, nor of the ones we share. Glimmer is a platform where anyone can write!
If you'd like to specifically ask the author of the fic you're referring to, you can try commenting on their fic or joining our Discord Server HERE, as they might be in it! You can also share your fic requests or ideas on our server -- you never know who might be inspired by you!
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A: When playing a Glimmer story, you'll notice that you're able to choose how you want the story to progress!
Every time you're given options to move the story along, that is considered a Turn. When you make a choice, it consumes a Turn. As a reader, you're given 100 free Turns daily!
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A: To mark your fic as completed, ensure that ALL conclusions you've made for the last episode of that story are set to Story type conclusions, instead of Episode type conclusions.
You can find the option to change the conclusion from an Episode to a Story end in the drop down menu at the bottom of the conclusion box.
Once, set to story end, the conclusions will look like this in your visual map:
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A: In the Browse tab of Glimmer, you can see a "Filter" button next to the fandom tags at the top:
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A: We do not have strict content rules on Glimmer, and you are free to write whatever you'd like. However, we may take down stories with:
- Sexual content that we consider extreme or excessive,
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If you would like to know more about our Content Policy in more detail, you can read it here:
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A: To private stories, you can simply unpublish them. To unpublish your entire story, go to your Author Portal and click on Overview, then scroll down. You will then see the Unpublish Story button at the bottom.
To unpublish only one or two episodes, click on the Publish Episode toggle, which you can also find in the Author Portal, below the Test button.
If you would like to let only a select amount of people read your fic when it's unpublished, you can add them as Beta Readers. This will allow them to look at your Author Portal (but cannot edit it) and test the fic as if reading the story.
To add Beta Readers, go to the Author Portal > Overview, then scroll down. You will then see the option to add Beta Readers by their email associated with their account or their Glimmer username.
Note: you must be an Approved Author to be able to add Betas.
8. I got this message: “Whoa there, slow down! You have free turns left, but you've played as much as you can for the day. You'll have to wait a bit before you can continue playing. You can wait 24 hours to continue playing. Or, buy Paid Turns to play right now." What does it mean?
A: This is a message you receive when you've reached an IP limit. We have it set to prevent people from getting free turns on multiple accounts. If this is not the case, this might be due to other people in the same household as you who are also using Glimmer.
If it's the latter, we apologize as we currently can't exactly distinguish between the two, but we are working on a solution. Stay tuned!
If neither are the case, do let us know your email associated with the account as you might be experiencing a bug.
9. How do we add fandom tags that aren’t already there?
A: For now, you can request for new fandom tags via our socials (our Tumblr, Reddit or Discord). We will soon implement a way to do this seamlessly!
10. What’s the threshold for becoming an approved author?/How do you become an approved author?
A: To become an Approved Author, you just have to keep on writing stories and publishing them! You can get the Approved Author title based on the collective engagement of all your fics over time, so you may become an Approved Author even sooner than you think!
11. Can other people/can you read my playthroughs without my permission?
A: No, other Glimmer users nor staff members can read your playthroughs unless you directly send them to us. We might ask you to send these playthroughs when reporting bugs for clarity on why the issue is occurring.
As staff, however, we can look into your Author Portal and see your stories even when they are unpublished (in the same way Beta Readers can view them). We typically do not take a look into your story unless requested, or if there is something in the content of the story that we need to check.
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Again, if you need help/require more clarification, you're always free to DM us or send over an Inbox :)
Thank you all for enjoying Glimmer! We truly appreciate our community (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
Using Yuta as your rebound to move on from Megumi was a bad idea -- and Megumi wants to make it known in this NSFW Choose Your Own Adventure...
🔗READ/PLAY HERE to make your own choices!
[Playthrough by Anonymous]
CW: NONCON/DUBCON, overstimulation, physical restraint, grasping, possessiveness, degradation, dom!Megumi, rough sex, cervix pounding, spanking, impact play, immobility, size difference, creampie, marking, brat taming, punishment sex, dacryphilia.
The heavy oak door of Megumi’s quarters slams shut, the sharp, metallic click of the lock sounding like a gunshot in the cramped, shadow-drenched room.
Before you can even draw breath to spin around and face him, iron-clad fingers wrap violently around your wrists.
With a brutal, practiced jerk, he twists your arms high up behind your back, forcing your shoulder joints to ache instantly.
The sheer physical shock of his movement sends a spike of pure, unadulterated adrenaline straight to your core.
He doesn't say a single word.
His chest is heaving heavily against your shoulder blades, a suffocating wall of muscular weight and silent, territorial rage.
"Megumi, let—"
A harsh, low grunt cuts the air from your lungs as he shoves you forward with unyielding force.
Your knees buckle, and you hit the rumpled sheets face-first, the breath knocked completely out of you.
Before you can even attempt to scramble away or regain your footing, his heavy frame descends upon you, pinning your upper torso flat against the mattress.
The darkness of the room feels like it's caving in.
His fingers dig deep into your hip bones with bruising force, his thumbs pressing so hard they will leave marks for days.
With a ruthless, commanding tug, he hoists your lower body high into the air, forcing you into a completely helpless, degrading bend—your chest and face buried deep into the cotton sheets, your ass shoved high up, entirely exposed and defenseless.
"You thought you were fucking clever, didn't you?" Megumi’s voice is a low, venomous rasp, completely stripped of his usual quiet public restraint.
It drips with pure filth, vibrating with a dark, suffocating malice that makes your entire spine shiver.
"Shoving yourself into Yuta’s space. Whispering in his ear. Looking at him like you wanted him to rip you apart right there in the courtyard—all while looking back at me to make sure I was watching."
He reaches down, his cold fingers hooking into the fabric of your underwear.
With a brutal, single rip, the material tears completely away, leaving your bare, trembling flesh exposed to the chilled air of the room.
He doesn't offer any warmth, any foreplay, or any gentleness.
He doesn't care that you are bitter exes; he only cares that you are his, and you have pushed his iron discipline past the absolute brink of his sanity.
Behind you, the slick, heavy sound of a zipper sliding down echoes in the quiet room.
You can feel the intense, radiating heat of his thick, rock-hard length springing free, pulsing with an angry, veins-out heat against your backside.
He grabs both of your pinned wrists with one hand, pulling them up into a tight, agonizing knot against your upper back, locking your upper body completely immobile while your hips remain propped high for his taking.
The quiet prodigy is dead.
The shadow inside him has taken over, and the raw, punitive weight of his gaze burns right through you.
He isn't going to talk this out. He is going to break you until you remember exactly who you belong to.
"Megumi, please... don't do this, it's gonna hurt."
The words tumble out of you in a broken, desperate sob, your face buried deep into the sweat-damp sheets. Your voice cracks, barely audible, swallowed by the cotton and the suffocating weight of his body pressing down on your spine.
For a moment, everything freezes.
Then he laughs.
It's a low, dark, humorless sound that sends ice straight through your veins. You've never heard Megumi laugh like that before—like he finds your suffering amusing, like your pleading is nothing more than pathetic background noise.
"Hurt?" he repeats, the word dripping with venomous mockery. He leans down, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear, his hot breath fanning across your skin. "You should've thought about that before you decided to rub your little cunt all over Yuta Okkotsu in front of me."
His free hand comes down hard on your bare ass cheek.
SLAP.
The impact is vicious, echoing through the room like a crack of thunder. A sharp, burning sting blooms across your skin, radiating outward in waves of white-hot fire. You gasp, your body jerking forward instinctively, but his weight pins you down, leaving you no room to escape the punishment.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" he hisses, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "Did you think I'd just stand there and watch you replace me with a cheap fucking copy?"
His grip on your wrists tightens, twisting them higher until your shoulders scream in protest. His other hand slides down your hip, fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to bruise.
"I'm going to ruin this tight little pussy," he says, the obscene promise rolling off his tongue like a caress. "And when I'm done, you're going to remember exactly who fucks you better."
He pulls back just enough to position himself, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your dry, tight entrance. The friction burns even before he pushes in, a preview of the raw punishment to come.
You can feel him throbbing against you, heavy and impatient, ready to split you open.
"You wanted my attention?" His voice is flat, cold, completely devoid of mercy. "You've got it."
He drives forward.
"I love you," you repeat, your voice cracking but holding steady under the weight of his stare. "Only you. It's always been you. I was just so tired of you pretending I didn't exist."
Your words hang in the air between you, fragile and raw.
Megumi's thumb freezes against your jaw. For a long, agonizing moment, his dark blue eyes search yours with an intensity that makes your chest ache. The shadows in the room seem to pulse, heavy with cursed energy leaking from his volatile state.
"You were trying to get a reaction out of me," he says slowly, his voice flat but trembling at the edges. "So you used him. Used his face. His voice. The way he fucking stands there quietly like I do."
His grip on your hair doesn't loosen.
"Did it work?" His tone turns mocking, cruel. "Did I react the way you wanted, Y/N?"
The sound of your name on his lips—after months of cold distance—hits you like a physical blow. He remembers. Of course he remembers. He's never stopped knowing exactly who you are.
Exhaustion, frustration, and desperate love bleed into your voice as you whisper, "I don't know. Did you?"
Something flickers in his eyes. Darker. Hotter. His jaw tightens as he stares down at you, caught between the urge to punish and something far more dangerous—the undeniable truth that he still wants you just as badly as you want him.
"Say it again," he demands, his voice rough. "Tell me you love me. And this time, mean it."
Your hand trembles as you lift it, your wrist sliding free from his loosened grip. Your fingers find his jaw—rough, stubbled, clenched so tight you can feel the tension vibrating through his bones.
His breath hitches.
The room is dead silent. The shadows pooling in the corners seem to hold their breath, the oppressive weight of his cursed energy flickering, wavering like a candle caught in a sudden draft.
"I love you, Megumi," you whisper, your thumb tracing along his sharp cheekbone, smearing your tears across his skin. "I never stopped. I was just so lost without you that I didn't know how else to make you see me."
His dark blue eyes search yours, raw and unguarded for the first time in months. The mask of cold indifference cracks—just a fracture, barely visible, but it's there. The boy who used to hold you after nightmares, who remembered how you take your coffee, who once said your name like a prayer—he's still buried somewhere beneath all this venom.
"Y/N..." Your name leaves his lips like a wound, strained and broken.
For a long, agonizing moment, he doesn't move. His hand slowly releases your hair, his fingers sliding down to cup the back of your neck instead—not gentle, but no longer purely punishing. His forehead drops forward, pressing against yours, his breath hot and uneven against your lips.
"I wanted to hate you," he admits, his voice barely above a rasp. "I wanted to forget you. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw your face." His grip tightens on your neck, not to hurt—to anchor himself. "You're the only thing that's ever fucking mattered to me, and you know it."
He pulls back just enough to look at you, his gaze burning with a volatile mix of anger, longing, and desperate, consuming need.
"Tell me you're mine," he demands, his voice rough and trembling. "Tell me, and I'll believe you. But if you're lying—" His jaw clenches. "I can't go through this again, Y/N. I can't."
"I'm yours. I've always been yours."
The words leave your lips like a confession at the edge of a blade—soft, trembling, but certain. Your hand still rests against his jaw, your thumb tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone, feeling the way his muscles twitch beneath your touch.
For a long, suspended moment, Megumi doesn't move. His dark blue eyes bore into yours, searching for any trace of deception, any crack in your sincerity. His chest rises and falls in heavy, uneven breaths, his forehead still pressed against yours.
Then his eyes close.
A shudder runs through his entire body, his grip on your neck loosening as he exhales—a long, shaky breath that sounds like surrender.
"Fuck, Y/N." His voice breaks on your name, raw and stripped of all pretense. "Do you have any idea what you've done to me?"
He pulls you closer, crushing his lips against yours.
The kiss isn't gentle. It's desperate, hungry, months of suppressed longing and toxic jealousy pouring into the way his mouth moves against yours. His tongue slides against your lower lip, demanding entrance, his hand tangling in your hair to angle your head exactly how he wants it.
When he finally breaks away, both of you are gasping for air. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes still closed, his breathing ragged.
"I was losing my mind," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "Watching you with him. Knowing he got to hear you laugh, got to stand close enough to smell your hair. I wanted to kill him." His eyes open, dark and intense. "I wanted to kill myself for still wanting you so badly."
His hand slides down your neck, over your collarbone, coming to rest over your heart.
"You say you're mine." His thumb presses against your sternum. "Then prove it. Let me hear you say it while I'm buried so deep inside you that you forget your own name."
"Then don't hold back. Show me I'm yours."
Your voice is steady despite the tears still clinging to your lashes, despite the way your body trembles beneath him. There's no fear in your words now—only surrender, raw and complete.
Megumi's eyes darken. Not with anger—with something hungrier. His hand slides from your neck down your spine, fingers tracing each vertebra with deliberate slowness until he reaches the small of your back.
"Stay right there," he says, his voice rough. "Don't move."
He shifts his weight off you, and the loss of his heat makes you shiver. You hear him rummage through a drawer, then the crinkle of foil. When he returns, his hands find your hips, guiding you back onto your knees, repositioning you face-down with your ass raised.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his palm smoothing over the curve of your ass, the touch almost reverent despite the sting still radiating from earlier. "So fucking perfect. And you're mine."
He rolls the condom on—you hear the snap of latex—and then his hands are back on your hips, thumbs digging into the soft flesh above your hip bones. The head of his cock presses against your entrance, and this time, there's a pause. A question.
"Y/N." His voice is strained, barely holding together. "Last chance to say no."
"I don't want to say no. I want you."
The words leave your lips like a sigh, heavy with surrender. Your body remains exactly where he positioned you—face-down, ass high, completely open and waiting for him.
Megumi exhales a shaky breath above you. His grip on your hips tightens, fingers pressing deep enough to bruise, but there's a tremor in his hands now that wasn't there before. The rage hasn't disappeared, but it's been tempered by something rawer—desperation, relief, a hunger that goes beyond simple punishment.
"Good girl," he says, the praise low and rough against your skin.
And then he pushes inside.
The stretch is immediate and overwhelming, his thick length sliding into your tight heat inch by agonizing inch. Even through the condom, you can feel every ridge, every pulse of him. Your back arches involuntarily, a strangled moan escaping your lips as he fills you completely, his pelvis pressing flush against your ass.
"Fuck, Y/N," he grits out, his voice strained. "You're so tight. So fucking perfect."
He pauses there, buried to the hilt, giving your body a moment to adjust. His hands roam over your hips, your lower back, tracing soothing patterns that contradict the possessive bruising of his grip. His thumb sweeps across the red handprint still blooming on your ass cheek, almost apologetic.
"You feel that?" he asks, his voice dropping to a whisper as he begins to move—slow, deep thrusts that drag against your inner walls with deliberate pressure. "That's me. No one else. Just me."
His pace starts steady, measured—nothing like the brutal punishment he promised earlier. Each stroke reaches deep, hitting that spot inside you that makes stars burst behind your closed eyelids, but there's a rhythm to it now. A purpose.
He leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, his lips brushing your ear.
"I've missed this," he admits, his voice cracking. "I've missed you."
"I missed you too..."
Your voice is barely a whisper, muffled by the sheets, but you feel him hear it—feel the way his hips stutter against yours, the way his breath catches sharply above you.
Megumi buries his face in the crook of your neck, his forehead pressing hard against your shoulder blade. For a moment, he stops moving entirely, just stays buried deep inside you, his chest heaving against your back.
"Fuck," he breathes against your skin, the word trembling. "I thought I'd never hear you say that again."
His hips begin to roll again—slow, grinding deep rather than pounding. Each thrust is measured, intimate, dragging against your inner walls with a friction that makes your toes curl. His hand slides beneath your body, palm flattening against your lower belly, pressing down as he rocks into you from behind.
"I want to feel you," he says, his voice rough. "I want to feel you come apart around my cock. Can you do that for me, Y/N?"
His fingers find your clit, circling with practiced precision—he remembers exactly how you like it, the pressure, the rhythm. His thumb presses down while his middle finger traces tight circles, synchronized with the deep, slow roll of his hips.
The heat builds low in your belly, spreading outward like wildfire. Your hands grip the sheets, knuckles white, as he hits that spot inside you with every single thrust.
"That's it," he says against your ear, his breath hot and uneven. "Let go. I've got you."
"Only you. Only ever you."
The words fall from your lips like a prayer, broken and raw, as his fingers work your clit in tight, relentless circles. Your body is trembling, caught between the deep drag of his cock inside you and the expert pressure of his hand.
Megumi's breath hitches above you. His rhythm falters for just a moment, his forehead pressing harder against your shoulder blade.
"Fuck, Y/N." His voice cracks. "Say it again."
His thrusts deepen, slower, more deliberate—each one grinding against that sweet spot inside you as his fingers maintain their punishing pace on your clit. The pressure builds, coiling low in your belly, spreading heat through your thighs and up your spine.
"I'm yours," you gasp, the words punched out of you with every stroke. "Only yours. Always have been."
A low sound rumbles from his chest—half groan, half sob. His free hand slides up your stomach, between your breasts, wrapping around your throat. Not choking—just holding. Claiming.
"Come for me," he says against your ear, his voice dark and desperate. "Let me feel you fall apart. I need to feel it, Y/N. I need to know you're real."
His thumb presses harder against your clit, circling faster, matching the deep, relentless rhythm of his hips. The pressure becomes too much, the heat too intense—your body arches, your mouth falls open, and you shatter against him with a broken cry of his name.
Your walls clench around him, pulsing, dragging him deeper as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you. He groans, his hips stuttering as he fucks you through it, refusing to let a single tremor go to waste.
"That's it," he breathes, his voice reverent and filthy all at once. "That's my good girl."
As the aftershocks of your climax ripple through your trembling body, you turn your head—slowly, deliberately—and catch his gaze over your shoulder.
Your lips meet his.
The kiss is awkward, angled, your neck craned at an uncomfortable stretch, but neither of you pulls away. Megumi freezes above you, his hips still buried deep, his fingers still slick against your oversensitive clit. For a heartbeat, he doesn't move.
Then he groans into your mouth, his hand sliding from your throat to cup your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss. He fucks your mouth with his tongue the same way he's fucking your cunt—deep, possessive, claiming every inch of you.
When he finally breaks away, both of you are panting. His forehead rests against the back of your head, his breath hot and uneven against your scalp.
"I forgot," he says, his voice raw and vulnerable, "how good you taste."
He pulls out slowly, and you whimper at the sudden emptiness. But before you can protest, his hands are on your hips again, flipping you onto your back with surprising gentleness.
He looms over you now, his dark hair falling messily across his forehead, his eyes burning with that familiar hunger. The condom is gone—discarded somewhere—and his cock stands thick and heavy against his stomach, glistening with your release.
He positions himself between your legs, sliding his palms up your thighs to spread you open. He looks at you—really looks at you—taking in the mess of tears and sweat, the flush spreading across your chest, the way your legs fall open for him without hesitation.
"I want to feel you," he says, his voice low and rough. "No barriers. Just you and me."
He leans down, pressing a kiss to your stomach, then lower, his lips trailing along your hip bone.
"Tell me you want that too."
"I want that. I want all of you."
Your voice is steady despite the trembling in your limbs, despite the oversensitivity still humming through your nerves. Your legs fall wider apart, an open invitation, your eyes locking onto his.
Megumi's breath catches. Something raw and vulnerable flashes across his face before he masks it, but you've already seen it—the way his walls crumble just a little more every time you speak.
He reaches for a new condom, tearing the foil with his teeth.
"I want to feel you too," you say, softer this time, your hand reaching down to catch his wrist. "But..." You hesitate, then push through. "I want it like this. I want to feel all of you."
His eyes snap to yours, searching, dark and intense.
"Y/N." Your name leaves his lips like a warning, strained. "You don't—I'm not—" He exhales sharply, running his free hand through his hair. "If I do this without protection, I'm not going to be able to hold back. I'm going to fucking destroy you."
"Then destroy me," you whisper, your hand sliding up his arm, over his shoulder, cupping the back of his neck to pull him down toward you. "I trust you. I've always trusted you."
For a long, agonizing moment, he just stares at you. Then something in him breaks—a final wall crumbling to dust.
He tosses the condom aside.
His mouth crashes into yours as he pushes inside you in one smooth, agonizingly deep thrust—bare, skin against skin, the heat of him flooding your senses. His groan gets swallowed by your kiss, his hips pressing flush against yours as he bottoms out, his forehead dropping against yours.
"Fuck, Y/N," he breathes against your lips, his voice wrecked. "You feel so good. You feel like home."
"I love you, Megumi."
The words leave your lips like a quiet, fragile thing—a truth you've been holding in your chest for months, too proud and too scared to let it see the light of day. Now it hangs in the space between you, bare and vulnerable, matching the way your body is opened beneath his.
Megumi's hips still.
He looks down at you, his dark blue eyes searching yours. His jaw works, muscles clenching and unclenching as he processes the weight of what you've just said. The shadows in the room pulse once, twice, then settle.
He exhales—a long, shuddering breath that seems to carry months of tension with it.
"I love you too, Y/N," he says, his voice rough and cracked at the edges. "I never stopped. I was just too much of a coward to say it."
He lowers himself, his chest pressing against yours, his forearms bracketing your head. The position forces him deeper inside you, a breath-stealing fullness that makes you gasp. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes closed, his breath mingling with yours in the small, intimate space between your lips.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, the words barely audible. "For everything. For pushing you away. For making you feel like you had to resort to..." He trails off, a bitter huff escaping him. "I was so busy being jealous that I forgot to just tell you how I felt."
He begins to move again—slow, deep strokes that drag against every sensitive inch of your inner walls. There's no anger in this rhythm, no punishment. Just desperate, aching love poured into every roll of his hips.
"I'm going to make it up to you," he says against your lips. "Every night. Every morning. Every chance I get. I'm going to remind you exactly who you belong to—and who belongs to you."
"Make love to me, Megumi. Don't hold back."
The words leave your lips against his mouth, a plea wrapped in permission. Your legs lock tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper, your heels digging into the small of his back.
A low sound rumbles from his chest—not quite a groan, not quite a growl. Something caught between pleasure and desperation. His hips roll forward, grinding against your pelvis, and the feeling of him bare inside you, skin against slick skin, makes stars burst behind your eyes.
"Don't you fucking forget," he says, his voice dark and trembling, "you asked for this."
And then he moves.
Gone is the gentle, measured rhythm. His hips snap forward with a brutality that steals the air from your lungs, his cock driving deep and hard against your cervix with every punishing stroke. The bedframe creaks beneath you, the headboard knocking against the wall in a steady, frantic rhythm.
His hand finds your throat again—not choking, just holding, his thumb pressing against your pulse point as he fucks into you with single-minded intensity. His eyes never leave yours, dark and burning, watching every flicker of pleasure and pain cross your face.
"You feel that?" he pants, his voice wrecked. "That's me. Inside you. Marking you from the inside out."
He pulls out until only the tip remains, then slams back in, burying himself to the hilt. The sound of his pelvis slapping against your wet skin echoes obscenely through the room, mixing with your broken moans and his ragged breathing.
"You're never going to look at another man again," he says, his voice a venomous rasp against your lips. "By the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember your own fucking name."
Wanna make your own choices and see what happens next? READ/PLAY HERE! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
In this NSFW Choose Your Own Adventure, Izuku Midoriya has been nothing but kind to you. The question is… what secrets has he been hiding behind that gentle smile?
Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader
NSFW Choose Your Own Adventure
CW: Omegaverse
🔗 READ/PLAY HERE
🎮 interactive fanfic "Scent" by redrobyum
📖 Episode 1 of ?
In which you and Omni-Mark end up trapped in a forest, left with nothing but each other in this NSFW Choose Your Own Adventure...
🔗READ/PLAY HERE to make your own choices!
[Playthrough by Anonymous]
CW: Noncon/Dubcon
"Then let me take care of you."
Your hand is still wrapped around him, and you feel the tremor that runs through his body at your words. His eyes search yours, raw and open, stripped of every layer of defense he's worn since you met him.
He doesn't speak. He just nods.
You shift, guiding him onto his back. He goes willingly, settling against the quilt, his chest rising and falling in quick, uneven breaths. The golden light spills across his body—the sharp lines of his collarbone, the ridges of his stomach, the thick curve of his cock standing heavy against his belly.
You move slow.
Your hand trails down his chest, fingers dragging through the sparse hair below his navel, before wrapping around him again. He hisses through his teeth, hips twitching into your grip. You stroke him leisurely, watching his face—the way his jaw goes slack, the way his eyelids droop, the way his hands fist in the quilt beside him.
"Look at me," you say softly.
His eyes find yours. Dark. Dazed. Utterly undone.
"That's it." Your thumb sweeps across the head, gathering the slick bead of moisture there. His breath stutters. His hips press up into your hand, chasing more. "Just let me take care of you."
"Tell me what you want me to do to you."
Your hand still moves on him—slow, watching the way his hips twitch into each stroke. His eyes are dark, blown wide, his chest heaving beneath the golden light.
He lets out a shaky breath. His hand finds yours, stilling your movement, lacing his fingers through yours.
"I want—" He stops. Swallows. His thumb traces circles on the back of your hand. "I want my face between your thighs."
The words come out raw, scraped clean of pretense.
"I want to taste you until you can't think straight. Until the only thing you remember is my mouth on you." His gaze holds yours, desperate and open. "Please. I need you to sit on my face."
A flush climbs his chest, creeping up his neck, but he doesn't look away. His grip on your hand tightens, just slightly.
"I've dreamed about it," he continues, voice lower, rougher. "The way you'd sound. The way you'd move. The way you'd fall apart on my tongue." He licks his lips, unconscious. "Please. Let me have that."
You lean down and kiss him.
His mouth meets yours immediately, hungry and soft all at once, his hand sliding into your hair as he pulls you deeper. The kiss says thank you. It says please. It says I trust you with every broken piece of me.
You break the kiss slowly, trailing your lips along his jaw, his throat, the hollow of his collarbone. His breath hitches when your mouth drags across his chest, your tongue flicking against his nipple before you continue your path downward. His hand stays tangled in your hair, not guiding, just holding.
You shift, swinging one leg over his chest, then the other, until you're straddling him, knees bracketing his ribs. His gaze locks onto yours, dark and reverent, his hands finding your thighs immediately—stroking, gripping, pulling you forward.
"Come here," he breathes. "Please."
His hands guide you higher, past his chest, past his throat, until your knees settle on either side of his head. His breath ghosts over you, warm and uneven, and he looks up at you like you're something sacred.
His fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs, thumbs stroking inward. His mouth parts, lips brushing against your inner thigh—a kiss, then another, trailing higher, taking his time.
"I've dreamed about this," he says against your skin, voice wrecked. "I've dreamed about this pussy, Y/N." His tongue darts out, tracing a line up your inner thigh, stopping just short of where you need him. "Thought about burying my face here and never coming up for air."
You shift your knees forward, positioning yourself above his mouth, and lower yourself down.
The first contact is featherlight—his breath ghosting over you, warm and uneven. Then his lips part.
His tongue meets you like a question, a single slow stroke through your slick folds, and the sound he makes vibrates against you—a deep, wrecked groan that travels through your core and up your spine. His hands grip your thighs, fingers pressing into the soft flesh, holding you steady.
"Fuck," he breathes against you, the word muffled, half-lost. Then his tongue is inside you, curling, tasting, and you feel his whole body shudder beneath you like he's the one being ruined.
He pulls back just enough to look up at you. His mouth is wet, his lips glistening, his eyes dark and hungry.
"You taste better than I ever imagined."
Then he dives back in.
His tongue works you with focused desperation—lapping, circling, dipping inside before dragging up to find your clit. He groans against you with every movement, like he's tasting something he's been starved for his whole life. One hand leaves your thigh, his thumb finding your entrance, pressing in slowly while his mouth works your clit in tight, deliberate circles.
Your hips rock forward, and he moans in approval, his grip tightening, pulling you closer, closer, like he'd crawl inside you if he could.
Your fingers thread through his hair, gripping the thick strands at the crown of his head, and you pull him closer.
He groans against you—a deep, desperate sound that vibrates through your core and makes your hips roll forward involuntarily. His tongue doesn't stop. If anything, the pressure intensifies, his mouth sealing over you like he's been starving for this exact taste.
You tug harder, holding him there, and his response is immediate—a low, wrecked moan that travels from his throat into you. His thumb curls inside you, finding that spot that makes your vision blur, while his tongue works your clit in tight, relentless circles.
"That's it," he gasps against you, breath hot and uneven. "That's it—let me hear you."
Your thighs tremble on either side of his head. The heat coils tighter in your belly, winding, building, every flick of his tongue dragging you closer to the edge. His free hand grips your hip, fingers digging in, anchoring you as you rock against his mouth.
He groans again, the sound muffled, and the vibration pushes you over.
Your orgasm crashes through you—sharp and sudden, a wave that starts in your core and radiates outward, pulling a gasp from your throat. Your fingers tighten in his hair, holding him there as you ride it out, and he doesn't stop. He works you through every tremor, every shudder, his tongue lapping soft and slow as you come down against his mouth.
Wanna make your own choices and see what happens next? READ/PLAY HERE! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
🎮interactive fanfic "in a blink gone ⋆˚｡" by olibean
Tim Drake was never supposed to notice you, an up-and-coming villain in Gotham. But what if he does anyway at a charity gala in this NSFW Choose Your Own Adventure?
Tim Drake x Reader
NSFW Choose Your Own Adventure
CW: Stalking/Abduction, Deception
🔗 READ/PLAY HERE
🎮interactive fanfic "Hush Hush" by @sinfiction
📖 Episode 1 of ?
You have a fascination for things on the surface. Turns out three other people do too -- but what happens when you're given an opportunity to go there in this Choose Your Own Adventure?
Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech x Reader
Choose Your Own Adventure
🔗 READ/PLAY HERE
🎮interactive fanfic "A Poor Unfourtunte Soul" by Dimondtears
📖 Episode 1 of ?
