glimmer fics

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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!

2. What is a "Turn"?

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!

3. How can I mark a story as completed?

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:

4. How can I filter specific ships, fandoms, story types, etc?

A: In the Browse tab of Glimmer, you can see a "Filter" button next to the fandom tags at the top:

Once selecting it, you can then filter fics, fandoms, tropes and warnings that you would like to see.

5. What are the rules of what you can/can’t write on Glimmer?

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, - NSFW stories of minors or NSFW content involving minors in general, - and stories that are meant to harass real life people, including other users. If you would like to know more about our Content Policy in more detail, you can read it here: https://glimmerfics.com/content-policy

6. I want to report a bug/have feedback on the site…

A: Feel free to reach out to us on our socials (such as here on our Tumblr or Reddit) or join our Discord server! We will get to you as soon as we can.

7. How do I private stories?/Can I make stories so that only some people can read it?

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 :)

"Tell me what you want me to do."

I look up at him from where I kneel, lips hovering just above his waistband. The firelight flickers across his face, casting his features in sharp relief.

Sukuna's hand tightens in my hair. He tilts my head back further, exposing my throat. Those four eyes roam over me—my bared shoulders, the silk pooled around my waist, the way my chest rises and falls with uneven breaths.

He considers me for a long moment.

"I want you to use that mouth," he says, voice low and rough. "But not on me. Not yet."

He tugs me to my feet by my hair, not painfully. His hand slides from my hair to my jaw, gripping firmly.

"First, I want to hear you say it. While looking me in the eye." His thumb traces my lower lip. "Tell me you're mine for these four months. That you'll obey me. That you'll open that pretty mouth and take whatever I give you."

His gaze burns into mine.

"Say it, and mean it."

"I want to feel you."

My hands slide up his chest, fingers tracing the dark markings that map his skin. The candlelight carves shadows across his muscles, and beneath my palms, he's solid. Warm. Alive.

Sukuna watches me with those four burning eyes, his breath steady. He lowers himself, pressing his weight against me, chest to chest. The contact sends a shiver through me—skin against skin, the coarse hair on his legs brushing mine.

"Feel me then." His voice is a low rasp against my ear. "Touch me. I won't break."

My hands roam freely. Across his shoulders, down the ridges of his back, over the scars I find there. He's all heat and muscle, ancient power thrumming just beneath the surface. I trace the line of his spine, and he shivers—a small tremor I feel more than see.

His mouth finds my throat. Not a kiss—a scrape of teeth, a drag of tongue. I gasp, arching into him, my fingers tangling in his hair.

"That's it," he says against my skin. "Let me hear you."

His hand slides down my side, gripping my hip, pulling my legs apart with his knee. I feel him against me—hard, insistent. My breath catches in anticipation.

He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. His gaze is dark, hungry, but there's something else underneath. Something almost tender.

"Tell me if you need to stop," he says. Quiet. Earnest.

The words catch me off guard. The King of Curses, asking for consent.

I cup his face in my hands, running my thumb along his jaw.

"I won't."

"I think I'm starting to fall for you."

The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. They hang in the air between us, raw and unguarded. I feel the admission in my chest — a vulnerability I hadn't planned to show.

Sukuna goes still above me. Those four crimson eyes search mine, looking for the trick, the game, the lie. I let him look. I don't have anything to hide.

His jaw tightens. Something flickers in his gaze — surprise, maybe. Or fear. It's gone before I can name it.

"You're a fool," he says quietly.

I don't look away. "Probably."

He holds my gaze for a long, heavy moment. The fire crackles. The candle flickers.

Then he lowers his head, pressing his forehead to mine. His breath is warm against my lips.

"Don't expect me to say it back." His voice is rough, barely above a whisper. "Don't expect soft words and poetry."

I reach up, fingers brushing against his cheek. "I'm not expecting anything."

He turns his head, pressing a kiss to my palm. The gesture is so tender it aches.

"Stupid," he mutters against my skin. "Stupid, brave little thief."

But his arms tighten around me, pulling me closer, and I feel the rapid beat of his heart against my chest.

He's not saying it. But he's showing it.

My fingers find the dark markings on his chest. They trace the lines slowly, following their path across his skin. Some are raised, like old scars. Others seem to shift beneath my touch, reacting to warmth.

Sukuna watches me in silence. His breath is steady, but I feel the tension in his muscles, the way he holds himself still for me.

"What are they?" I ask softly.

"Reminders." His voice is low, rougher than before. "Of what I am. What I became."

My fingers continue their path. I trace a line from his collarbone down to his ribs, following the pattern. He shivers — a barely perceptible tremor.

I look up at him. "They're beautiful."

He goes still. Those four eyes search mine, looking for the lie. He doesn't find one.

"You're strange," he says. But his voice cracks on the last syllable.

I smile, fingertips still resting on his chest. "You're one to talk about strange."

A quiet laugh escapes him. Low, genuine. He shakes his head, strands of pink hair falling across his face.

"Insolent woman," he mutters. But he's smiling as he says it.

He lowers himself, pressing his lips to the hollow of my throat. Soft. Tender. A stark contrast to the power coiled in every muscle of his body.

I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him there, feeling the warmth of his mouth against my pulse.

"I think I'm falling for you too."

The words are barely a whisper against his skin, my lips brushing the markings on his chest. I feel him stiffen above me. His breath catches.

Slowly, he pulls back just enough to look at me. Those four eyes are unreadable, searching mine with an intensity that makes my heart stutter.

"You already said that," he says quietly.

I shake my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. "I know. I'm saying it again." I reach up, fingers tracing his jaw. "I want you to hear it. To know it's not a trick. Not a game."

He's silent for a long moment. The candle flickers. The fire pops somewhere beyond the doorway.

His hand comes up, covering mine against his cheek. He turns his head, pressing a kiss to my palm. When he looks back at me, something in his gaze has shifted. The walls are still there, but they're thinner. Cracked.

"You're going to be the death of me," he says. But his voice is soft. Worn.

I smile. "Good. Then we'll die together."

A rough laugh escapes him—genuine, surprised. He shakes his head, strands of pink hair falling across his face.

"Ridiculous woman." He lowers himself, pressing his forehead to mine. His voice drops to barely a whisper. "I might be falling for you too. Don't let it go to your head."

My heart swells.

I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss.

I pull back from the kiss, just enough to meet his eyes. My hand cups his jaw, thumb tracing along the sharp line of his cheekbone.

"Say it again," I whisper. "Without the 'maybe.'"

Sukuna's throat works. Those four crimson eyes search mine, and I watch the walls crumble. One by one. His jaw tightens.

"You're going to make me say it."

"I am."

A long, heavy pause. The fire crackles. His breath is warm against my lips.

"I'm falling for you too."

No hedge. No retreat. Just the raw truth, laid bare between us.

My heart stutters. I pull him down, pressing my lips to his, pouring everything I can't say into that kiss. He groans against my mouth, one hand sliding into my hair, the other gripping my hip, pulling me flush against him.

When we break apart, both breathing hard, he rests his forehead against mine.

"There," he mutters. "Happy now?"

I smile, fingers threading through his hair. "Getting there."

He laughs — low, genuine, warm. And in this moment, held in the arms of the King of Curses, I think I might actually be.

"I'm falling for you too."

The words echo between us, raw and true. I pull him down, kiss him until we're both breathless, until the world narrows to the heat of his mouth, the weight of his body, the steady thrum of his heart against mine.

His hands roam my body, mapping every curve, every shiver. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark, hungry—but soft at the edges.

"Four months," he says. "Then we'll see."

But we both know this is already more than a deal.

He shifts above me, and the air changes. Something ancient stirs beneath his skin. His form ripples—expands. Horns curl from his temples. A second pair of arms emerges. And between his legs, twin cocks rise, thick and proud, both already gleaming with arousal.

My breath catches.

Sukuna grins down at me, four crimson eyes burning. "You wanted to feel me, little thief?" His voice is deeper now, layered. "Then feel all of me."

"I want both of you."

The words leave my mouth before my rational mind can catch up. But I mean them. Every syllable.

Sukuna's four eyes burn brighter. That sharp grin stretches across his face, feral and satisfied.

"Bold words, little thief."

He lowers himself, the weight of his true form pressing me deeper into the furs. His lower pair of hands grip my thighs, pushing them apart, spreading me open beneath him. The upper pair cages me in, palms flat on either side of my head.

I feel both of him against me—twin lengths pressing against my thigh, my stomach. Hot. Heavy.

He aligns himself, the tip of one pressing against my entrance. The other slides along my folds, gathering wetness before finding my other hole.

My breath hitches. My fingers dig into his shoulders.

"Look at me," he commands.

I do.

He pushes in.

Both at once.

The stretch is overwhelming—too much, too full. A gasp tears from my throat, my back arching off the bed. He fills me completely, impossibly, the sensation splitting me open in the most exquisite way.

He stills, giving me a moment to adjust. His breath is ragged above me.

"You take me so well," he says, voice rough. "Such a perfect little cocksleeve for your king."

I moan, nails raking down his back.

"More. I can take more."

The words are a breathless challenge, barely coherent. I'm stretched around him, filled beyond what I thought possible, and I want more.

Sukuna's laugh is dark, approving. "Greedy thing."

He pulls back slowly—agonizingly slow—until only the tips remain inside me. Then he slams back in, buried to the hilt. I cry out, head thrown back, nails digging into his shoulders.

"That's it," he growls. "Take it. Take all of me."

He sets a brutal rhythm, pounding into me with both cocks. Each thrust hits deeper, harder, filling every inch of me. My moans are broken, wordless, lost to the sound of skin slapping skin, the creak of the bed beneath us.

His lower hands grip my hips, angling me for deeper penetration. His upper hands find my breasts, thumbs circling my nipples, pinching until I gasp.

"Look at you," he rasps, four eyes roving over my face, my body. "Taking both my cocks like a desperate little whore. You love this, don't you?"

I can't answer. Can't form words. I can only nod, whimpering as he drives into me again.

His rhythm quickens. The pressure builds, coiling hot and tight in my core.

"You're going to come for me," he says, voice rough. "And you're going to do it now."

I let go.

The tension in my shoulders melts. My legs fall wider, opening myself fully to him. I stop thinking about how this started, about deals and debts and desperate bargains. I stop thinking entirely.

I surrender.

Sukuna feels it immediately. He groans above me, his rhythm faltering for just a moment as I go pliant and eager beneath him.

"Yes," he hisses. "That's it. Give yourself to me."

His thrusts grow deeper, slower, each one deliberate. He fills me completely, both cocks sliding in and out in perfect tandem, a rhythm that steals my breath. I'm lost in the sensation—the stretch, the fullness, the heat.

My hands find his hair, pulling him down to me. I kiss him sloppy, open-mouthed, moaning against his lips as he fucks into me.

He breaks the kiss, mouth trailing down my throat, teeth grazing my collarbone. His lower hands grip my ass, spreading me wider, taking me deeper.

"Look at you," he says against my skin. "So beautiful like this. Taking everything I give you."

I arch into him, wordless, lost.

"Come for me," he commands. "Now."

The pressure inside me peaks, coils tight, and shatters. I cry out, shuddering around him, pleasure ripping through me in waves. He follows moments later, a moan torn from his throat as he spills into me, filling me with his warmth.

Wanna make your own choices and see what happens next? READ/PLAY HERE! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

🎮interactive fanfic "The Brutal King of Curses" by Angelito

"I want you to."

The words are a soft, shaky breath, but they are certain.

Suguru’s expression softens, his eyes darkening as he absorbs your consent. He moves with a slow, reverent deliberation, as if you are the most fragile piece of silk he has ever handled. His fingers find the tuck of your sari, his touch light and hesitant, pausing for a heartbeat to ensure you are still with him.

When you lean into him, he begins to unwind the fabric. The cotton slides away from your skin in a slow, rhythmic motion, the sound of the fabric whispering against the sheets. He works with the precision of someone who appreciates every detail, his gaze never leaving your face, searching for any sign of hesitation.

Once the sari is cast aside, he lingers. He doesn't rush to the next layer. Instead, he lets his palms slide up your arms, his touch grazing the skin with a tenderness that makes you shiver. He leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the hollow of your throat, right where the diamonds rest.

"You are breathtaking," he says against your skin. "I can't believe you ever doubted that."

His hands move to the fastenings of your blouse, his fingers brushing against your skin with a heat that seems to sear through you.

You reach up, pulling him back down to you. The kiss is a frantic, breathless thing, a sudden surge of need that replaces the slow reverence of a moment ago. You can feel the slight tremble in his hands, the way he clings to you as if you are the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth.

He breaks away just enough to gasp for air, his lips sliding against yours with a soft, wet sound. He lets out a low, shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours.

"You're going to be the ruin of me," he murmurs.

His fingers finish with the fastenings of your blouse. He peels the fabric back, exposing your shoulders to the cool air of the room before he pushes the garment entirely away.

He stops, his gaze drifting over your skin. He looks at you with a hunger that is almost painful to witness, but there is a gentleness in it, too. His hand reaches out, his calloused palm grazing the side of your breast, his touch so light it's almost an afterthought.

"Perfect," he whispers. "Every single part of you is perfect."

He begins to trail kisses down your collarbone, his lips warm and insistent. Every time his skin meets yours, a spark of electricity jolts through you, making your toes curl into the silk sheets. He moves lower, his breath hot against your stomach, his voice a low, praising murmur that makes your heart ache.

"Please, don't stop."

The plea is barely a whisper, but it acts as a catalyst. Suguru’s breath hitches, and the tenderness in his touch sharpens into something more urgent. He doesn't stop; instead, he descends further, his lips claiming a path across your stomach with slow, searing pressure.

You feel the silk of the sheets beneath you and the heat of him above, a contrast that makes your skin prickle. Every time his tongue grazes a new inch of skin, a soft, involuntary sound escapes you, filling the quiet of the room.

He pauses for a second, his face pressed against the curve of your hip. He looks up at you, his dark eyes hooded and clouded.

"I could spend a lifetime right here," he says. "Just learning you. Just proving to you that you belong exactly where I want you."

His hand slides lower, his fingers brushing the edge of your remaining undergarments. He doesn't move past the boundary yet; he simply lingers there, his thumb tracing the line of your thigh, waiting for the silent signal of your body.

You reach down, your fingers meeting his at the waistband of your undergarments. The touch is electric, a sudden collision of heat and anticipation. Together, you slide the final barrier of fabric away, leaving you completely exposed to the amber light and his unwavering gaze.

Suguru shifts, moving back up your body to look at you. He supports himself on his elbows, framing you with his broad shoulders. His eyes travel slowly over every curve, every line of your body, with a reverence that makes you feel more seen than the diamonds ever could.

"You are a miracle," he whispers, his voice thick.

He leans down, his lips finding yours in a kiss that is no longer hesitant. It's hungry and deep, a silent promise of everything to come. As he kisses you, his hand slides down, his fingers finding the center of your heat. He touches you with a gentle, probing curiosity, gauging your reaction to every slide of his fingertip.

You gasp into his mouth, your hips arching instinctively toward him.

He pulls back slightly, his thumb grazing your clit in a slow, rhythmic circle that sends a jolt of lightning straight to your core. He watches your face, his expression a mixture of intense desire and an almost desperate need to make sure you're okay.

"I want you to feel everything," he murmurs. "I want you to know that you're mine, that I chose you, and that nothing in this kingdom can change that."

You reach up, your fingers tangling in the dark silk of his hair to pull him back down to you. The collision is urgent, a clash of teeth and tongues that tastes of desperation. He lets out a strangled sound against your lips, his body shuddering as he presses you harder into the mattress, his weight a welcome, overwhelming pressure.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to breathe, his lips sliding against yours with a wet, heavy sound. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes clouded and dark, searching your face with an intensity that feels like it could strip you bare.

"You have no idea," he says. "How much I've craved this. How much I've craved you."

His hand leaves your center for a moment to slide up your side, his palm hot against your ribs, before he shifts. He moves with a sudden, fluid grace, discarding his own robes until he is as bare as you are.

The air in the room feels thick, charged with a tension that has finally snapped. Suguru settles between your thighs, his skin searing where it meets yours. He supports himself on his forearms, hovering just inches above you, his gaze dropping to where your bodies almost touch.

He reaches down, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his touch trembling slightly.

"I want to be everything to you," he whispers, his voice dropping to a vulnerable, raw plea. "I want you to forget the court, the diamonds... everything but me. Please, just accept me. Not as your king, but as the man who loves you."

The vulnerability in his voice is the final thread to snap. You pull him down, your arms wrapping around his neck to draw him into a kiss that is less of a request and more of an answer. You don't need the crown or the titles; you only need him.

As you surrender to the heat of his embrace, Suguru lets out a long, shaky breath against your lips. He shifts, his weight settling comfortably between your legs. His hand wanders down from your waist, trailing a path of fire across your skin until his fingers reach the center of your heat.

He doesn't rush. He begins to stroke your slick folds with a slow, agonizingly gentle pressure, his touch praising and precise. A violent shiver races through you, your breath hitching as you arch into his palm.

"I want you inside me."

The admission breaks the last of the stillness. Suguru's hand pauses for a heartbeat, his fingers twitching against your skin. He looks up at you, his eyes dark and heavy with a hunger that seems to consume everything in its path.

"You're sure?" he whispers, though the way he's looking at you suggests he's barely holding himself together.

He doesn't wait for a second confirmation. Slowly,, he slides a single finger deep into your warmth. You gasp, your back arching off the silk sheets as you adjust to the sudden fullness. He holds it there for a moment, letting you feel the weight and the stretch of him, his thumb continuing its slow, rhythmic circles against your clit.

The sensation is overwhelming, a concentrated point of heat that radiates through your entire body. You can hear the ragged edge of his breathing, the way he's fighting for control, his muscles taut beneath you.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Do you want me to move it?"

"Yes, please..."

The request is barely a sound, more of a shuddering breath that hitches in your throat.

Suguru lets out a low, rough exhale. He doesn't move immediately; he lets the tension build, his gaze locked onto yours, witnessing every flicker of desire on your face. Then, he begins to move his finger.

It's a slow slide—a rhythmic curl and pull that catches against the most sensitive walls of your heat. The sensation is acute, a focused point of pleasure that makes the rest of the room blur into a haze of amber light and sandalwood.

You gasp, your fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders, pulling him closer as if you could merge with him.

He watches you, his expression one of intense, focused devotion. He adjusts the angle of his touch, his movements becoming more fluid, more sure. Every slide of his finger is a question, and every arch of your hips is the answer.

"You're so tight for me," he says, his voice vibrating in the small space between you. "So warm."

His thumb continues its steady, maddening circle against your clit, coordinating with the internal friction until you're trembling beneath him, your breath coming in short bursts.

"I want you... all of you."

The words are a desperate plea, a surrender of every remaining defense.

Suguru freezes, his finger still buried deep within you. His chest heaves, the muscles of his arms straining as he supports his weight, his knuckles white where they press into the silk. The look in his eyes is almost feral, a mixture of raw hunger and a tenderness so profound it feels like a physical weight.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," he says.

He withdraws his finger in one slow, slick motion, the sudden absence leaving you feeling cold and hollow for a fleeting second. He shifts, his body sliding further down the bed until he is positioned perfectly between your thighs.

He guides himself to your entrance, the broad head of his length brushing against your slick folds. He doesn't push in immediately. Instead, he lingers there, the heat of him searing your skin, his breath hot against your neck.

"I'm going to be gentle," he whispers. "I want you to feel every single bit of this. I want you to know that I'm here, and that you're mine."

He pushes forward, a slow, steady intrusion that fills you completely. You gasp, your eyes fluttering shut as your body stretches to accommodate him, the sensation of his thickness overwhelming and grounding all at once.

"I love you, Suguru."

The words are a soft confession, spoken into the heat of the moment. Suguru freezes for a fraction of a second, his breath hitching as he looks down at you. His expression is a raw, exposed thing—the mask of the King completely gone, leaving only a man who looks as though he's finally found something he thought was impossible.

He presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closing tight.

"I love you," he whispers back, his voice thick with an emotion that makes your own heart ache. "More than I have the words for."

He begins to move, a slow, steady rhythm that fills you entirely. It is a deep, grounding friction that makes the world outside the silk curtains vanish. Each thrust is deliberate, a physical vow of the devotion he’s spent years harboring in silence.

You feel the pressure of him, the sheer size of him stretching you in a way that feels like coming home. The cold diamonds at your throat are a sharp contrast to the searing heat of his skin, reminding you of the world you've left behind and the one you've chosen here, in the curve of his arm.

Suguru lets out a low, ragged groan, his grip on your hips tightening as he finds his pace. He watches your face, tracking every flicker of pleasure, every soft sound you make, as if he's memorizing the way you feel in this exact moment.

The rhythm deepens, a steady, pulsing heat that threatens to pull you under. Suguru’s breathing is a ragged symphony in your ear, his movements shifting from a slow vow to something more demanding. He pulls back slightly, the friction creating a dizzying tension that leaves you breathless.

He pauses, his gaze searching yours, and then he shifts his weight. His length slides out of you with a slow, wet sound, leaving you feeling suddenly empty and aching. You let out a soft, confused whimper, but before you can ask why, he replaces the fullness with something different.

He slides one finger back inside you, curling it with a precise, agonizing pressure against your most sensitive spot. He begins to fuck you with that single finger, a gentle, rhythmic teasing that makes your hips jerk upward in a desperate search for more.

"More... please, give me more."

The request is a broken sound, a fragile thread of a voice that snaps the last of Suguru's restraint. He lets out a breathy laugh, the sound vibrating against your skin.

"So greedy," he says, though his tone is thick with affection.

He doesn't grant the request immediately. Instead, he increases the pace of that single finger, the friction becoming more intense, more precise. He finds the exact spot that makes your vision blur, his touch curling upward with a devastating accuracy that has you gripping the silk sheets until your knuckles turn white.

You arch your back, your hips seeking the pressure, chasing the spark he's teasing out of you. Your breath comes in short, frantic hitches, your chest heaving against the cold weight of the diamonds.

Suguru leans in, his lips brushing against your jawline.

"Tell me exactly what you want, my little seamstress. Use your words."

"I want all of you back inside me."

The words are a breathless confession, spoken more to the air than to him.

Suguru’s pupils blow wide, nearly swallowing the gold of his irises. A low sound vibrates in his chest—something between a groan and a laugh. He looks at you, his muscles locking as he fights the urge to simply drive himself back into you without another second of hesitation.

"You're so impatient," he says, though he's the one trembling.

He doesn't move his hand. Instead, he leans down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, his voice dropping to a dangerous, honeyed whisper.

"I can give you that. I can give you everything. But I want to see you break first. I want to feel you shaking so hard you can't even remember your own name."

He shifts his grip, his finger curling deeper, hitting that one precise spot with a sudden, sharp increase in pressure. He begins to move with a faster, more urgent rhythm, his hand working you with a focused intensity that pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

You gasp, your hips bucking upward, your fingers tightening their grip on his shoulders. The sensation is too much, yet not enough, leaving you suspended in a state of agonizing tension.

He pulls back just an inch, watching the way your eyes haze over, the way your breath comes in short bursts.

"Do you want more?" he asks, his voice a low challenge. "Do you want another finger?"

"I just want you!"

The words come out as a desperate, fractured cry. You bridge the gap between you, your fingers digging into the muscles of his forearms, trying to pull his entire weight back into you. You're shaking, your breath coming in jagged gasps, the need for him so sharp it feels like a physical ache.

Suguru’s expression softens, his eyes brimming with a raw, unguarded devotion. He lets out a shuddering breath, his forehead dropping to touch yours.

"I know," he whispers, his voice rough. "I know you do."

He doesn't give in to the plea for his full weight yet. Instead, he leans into the tension, his hand shifting. With a slow motion, he slides a second finger inside you.

The sudden increase in fullness makes you gasp, your eyes fluttering shut as your body stretches to accommodate him. It's a different kind of pressure—wider, deeper, filling the void in a way that makes every nerve ending scream.

He begins to move both fingers in a synchronized, curling rhythm. The friction is intense, a concentrated storm of pleasure that radiates from your core to your fingertips. He watches you with an intensity that feels like he's reading every secret your body is telling him.

"Look at me," he says.

As you open your eyes, he pushes deeper, his fingers hooking against you in a way that sends a violent jolt of electricity through your spine.

"I love you... please..."

The words are a shattered plea, barely audible over the sound of your own frantic breathing.

Suguru’s expression tightens, his gaze dropping to where his hand is buried deep within you. He doesn't stop. Instead, he leans forward, his chest pressing against yours, the heat of his skin searing through the thin layer of air between you. He curls both fingers upward, hooking them with a precise, relentless pressure against your most sensitive spot.

You cry out, your back arching sharply off the silk sheets. The sensation is a violent tide, a concentrated point of pleasure that spreads outward in crashing waves, threatening to pull you under.

He keeps the rhythm steady and punishingly accurate. He watches you, his dark eyes hooded and focused, tracking the way your eyes haze over and your breath hitches in your throat. He is the only anchor in a world that has dissolved into amber light and raw sensation.

"I have you," he says, his voice a low, grounding vibration against your skin. "Just let go. Give it all to me."

He increases the speed, his fingers sliding in and out with a wet, heavy friction that pushes you closer and closer to the precipice. You feel the tension coil in your stomach, a tight, humming string that is stretched to its absolute limit.

"I can't... I'm going to..."

The words break apart, trailing off into a sharp, needy whimper. You're hovering on a knife's edge, the world narrowing down to the point where his fingers meet your heat. Everything else—the palace, the diamonds, the laws of the kingdom—has dissolved into a blur of amber light and the scent of sandalwood.

Suguru feels the shift in you, the way your muscles tighten and quiver in anticipation. He doesn't pull back. Instead, he leans in, his lips grazing your cheek, his voice a rough, grounding murmur.

"Let it happen. Give it all to me."

He pushes deeper, his fingers curling with a final, decisive pressure. The tension that has been coiling in your stomach finally snaps.

A violent surge of pleasure crashes over you, starting at your core and radiating outward in shimmering waves. You cry out, the sound raw and unrestrained, as your back arches sharply off the bed. The world explodes into white light, your body shuddering in a series of crashing, rhythmic orgasms that leave you breathless and trembling.

As the peak slowly begins to recede, Suguru remains there, his hand still cradling you, his chest heaving against yours. He holds you tight, anchoring you as you drift back down to earth.

You lie there for a long moment, your breath coming in shaky, shallow gasps while the aftershocks of the climax ripple through your limbs. Suguru’s heart hammers against your chest, a frantic rhythm that matches your own. He kisses your temple, his touch lingering and tender, before he slowly shifts his weight.

The tenderness remains, but it is now laced with a renewed, heavy urgency. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes burning with a hunger that has only intensified.

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches down. With a slow motion, he slides his trousers off, casting them aside. As he reveals himself to you, the sheer sight of his thickness and length makes your breath hitch. He is fully aroused, pulsing and ready, a physical testament to the desire he has held for you in secret for so long.

Wanna make your own choices and see what happens next? READ/PLAY HERE! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

🎮interactive fanfic "Heeriye" by FireflyOfLove