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!

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Again, if you need help/require more clarification, you're always free to DM us or send over an Inbox :)

"Show me then."

The words are barely a whisper, but they hit Dabi like a spark to gasoline. He lets out a low, jagged sound, his eyes darkening until the turquoise is nearly swallowed by the pupils. He doesn't just smile; he sneers, a look of pure, sadistic satisfaction crossing his scarred features.

"Careful, babe. You're practically begging to be broken," he says, his voice slurring more as his focus narrows.

He shifts his weight, and you feel the sudden, heavy pressure of his shoe nudging between your thighs. He doesn't grind it—not yet—but he presses the sole of his boot firmly against your cunt, pinning you in place against the floor. The contrast of the cold, hard leather against your heat makes you shiver, trapping you in a position of total vulnerability.

While he keeps you pinned with his foot, his hand moves to his waist. The metallic click of his belt buckle echoing in the kitchen is sharp, final. He tugs the leather loose with a slow motion, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You wanted the villain," he mutters, his breath hot and uneven. "Here he is."

He shoves his pants and underwear down in one rough motion, letting his cock spring free. It hangs heavy and hot right in front of your face, the skin pale and mapped with the same kind of violent history as the rest of him. Your eyes catch the glint of metal—a Jacob's ladder piercing, a series of silver rings running up the shaft that look as painful as they are provocative.

"You're beautiful," you whisper.

Dabi freezes. The slurred rhythm of his breathing hitches, and for a split second, the mask of the sadistic villain slips. His turquoise eyes widen, flickering with a genuine, momentary confusion that makes him look almost human.

Then, the sneer returns, sharper and more derisive than before. He lets out a harsh, barking laugh that sounds like glass breaking.

"Beautiful?" he rasps, his voice thick with mockery. "You're absolutely delusional, babe. Look at me. I'm a walking corpse held together by staples and spite."

Despite the insult, he doesn't move his foot. He keeps the sole of his boot pressed firmly against your cunt, feeling the way you tremble beneath him. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his phone. With a slow movement, he raises the camera, framing you on the screen—kneeling on the kitchen floor, flushed and desperate, with his cock hanging heavy and pierced right in front of your face.

"Smile for the camera, slut," he commands, his voice dropping into a low drawl.

Click.

He takes a few more, the flash blinding you for a second. He looks down at the images with a satisfied, half-lidded gaze, then looks back at you. To emphasize his point, he reaches down and gives his cock a few sharp, encouraging slaps against your cheek, the metal rings of the Jacob's ladder piercing cold and hard against your skin.

"Perfect. Now," he says, his thumb suddenly hooking into your mouth, forcing your jaw open wide. "Let's see if you can handle the real thing."

You let out a muffled, wet moan around his thumb, your tongue instinctively swirling against his skin. The sound is needy, a broken vibration that only seems to egg him on.

Dabi’s eyes darken, his expression twisting into something jagged. He pulls his thumb out with a sharp, popping sound, and before you can even close your mouth, he drives himself inside.

"Mngh—!"

The impact is sudden and heavy, bottoming out against the back of your throat. You gag, your eyes watering instantly as your body struggles to accommodate the thick, pulsing length of him. He doesn't give you a second to adjust. His hand flies to the back of your head, fingers twisting deep into your brown hair, anchoring you in place.

He begins to move, yanking your head back and forth in a brutal, rhythmic cadence. Each thrust is a punishing shove that forces the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping and choking around him.

"Take it all, you little slut," he pants, his voice a slurring, degrading rasp. "Look at you... gagging on me while I've got you pinned. You love being used, don't you?"

He leans his weight forward, the sole of his boot grinding harder into your cunt, pressing you flat against the kitchen tiles. The friction of the leather against your soaked heat is blinding, a blunt pressure that makes your hips roll instinctively, trying to find some kind of release.

You fight through the gagging, tilting your head back to open your throat as much as possible. You wrap your lips tight around him, using your tongue to pull, trying to suck him deeper into your throat.

Dabi lets out a strangled sound—a mix of a groan and a snarl. The feeling of your throat tightening around him, the desperate attempt to take every inch, sends him over the edge. His grip on your hair turns bruising, his knuckles white as he forces the pace to a frantic, punishing speed.

"Fuck... you really are a little freak," he pants, his voice thick and slurring, the words barely intelligible. "Greedy little cunt... just swallowing it all..."

The slapping sound of his groin hitting your chin echoes in the small kitchen. He’s no longer teasing; he’s chasing a climax with a brutal, singular focus. Between the violent thrusts, he grinds the sole of his boot harder into your pussy, the rough leather dragging against your soaked walls, pressing you deeper into the cold tiles.

His breath comes in jagged, uneven hitches. He suddenly stops the movement, burying himself to the hilt one last time and holding it there, his body tensing with a sudden rigidity.

"I'm gonna... fuck... fill your face..."

"Fill me up... please..."

The plea is a muffled, wet sound against his skin, vibrating through the shaft of his cock. Dabi lets out a sharp, jagged groan, his body shuddering with the effort of holding back for just a few seconds longer. The sheer desperation in your voice, the way you're begging for the very thing that's choking you, seems to push him over the edge.

"Fuck... you're such a little slut," he says, his voice completely slurred now, heavy.

He abruptly yanks himself out of your mouth with a loud, wet pop. Before you can even blink, he’s repositioning himself, his hand gripping your hair to pull your face upward, tilting it at an agonizing angle.

The release is violent. Dabi lets out a sound, his hips snapping forward as he cums across your face. Thick, hot ropes of semen splatter across your cheeks, your nose, and your closed eyelids, the warmth of it contrasting sharply with the cold kitchen tiles beneath you.

He stays there for a moment, panting, his chest heaving as he watches the white fluid drip down your skin. He looks down at you with a look of absolute, sadistic ownership, a small, crooked smirk playing on his lips.

"There," he pants, his voice returning to a low, rough drawl. "Now you're marked."

Dabi doesn't offer a hand to help you up. Instead, he reaches down and grips your arm with a bruising force, hauling you off the kitchen floor in one rough motion. He doesn't care that you're still blinking through the wetness on your face or that your legs are shaking. He simply drags you toward the bedroom, his stride long and impatient, manhandling you like a piece of luggage he's tired of carrying.

As soon as you cross the threshold, he shoves you toward the mattress. There is no tenderness here, no slow build-up. He looms over you, his eyes dark and focused, the air around him shimmering with a sudden heat.

"Don't think you're done just because I finished once," he rasps, his voice a jagged, slurring edge.

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

🎮interactive fanfic "SELF INDULGENT - DABI" by gutmegood

"More than okay."

The admission is a catalyst. Dick’s hold on your waist tightens, pulling you so close that you can feel the hard line of his thigh pressing between yours. He lets out a soft, sharp exhale, and the patience he's been exercising seems to fray.

He closes the final inch of distance, his lips finally meeting yours. It starts as a slow, exploratory press, a question asked in silence, but it quickly deepens into something hungrier. The kiss tastes of longing and years of unspoken words, a sudden release of the tension that has defined your friendship for far too long.

His hand on your thigh moves with newfound confidence. He slides the silk of your dress higher, his palm warm against your bare skin. He finds the sensitive curve of your inner thigh, his fingers grazing the edge of your underwear in a way that makes your toes curl.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes dark, his breathing ragged. "I've wanted to do that since we were teenagers," he murmurs, his voice rough.

He shifts his hand, his fingers hooking into the lace of your panties, applying a steady, insistent pressure. He doesn't pull them away yet, but he presses his palm flat against you, applying a firm, rhythmic pressure through the thin fabric that sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core.

"You feel so warm," he whispers, leaning back in to nip at your lower lip. "I wonder if you're as ready for this as I am."

You reach up, grabbing the collar of his shirt and hauling him down with a desperate force. Your lips crash against his, the kiss shifting from a question to a demand. It's a collision of years of restraint finally snapping, and you pour every ounce of your hidden longing into the pressure of your mouth against his.

Dick groans into the kiss, a sound of pure surrender. He responds with equal fervor, his tongue sweeping against yours as he crowds you further into the silk-covered wall. The world outside this small, dim alcove ceases to exist; there is only the taste of him and the friction of your bodies.

His hand continues its work, the rhythm increasing, becoming more urgent. He finds the exact spot that sends sparks behind your eyelids, his fingers curling and pressing in a way that makes your breath come in short gasps. He knows exactly how to touch you, exactly how much pressure to apply, as if he's been studying the map of your desire from a distance for a lifetime.

He breaks the kiss just enough to press his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily. His blue eyes are clouded with heat, his pupils blown wide.

"You're driving me crazy," he says, his voice thick.

He shifts his stance, sliding his hand from your core to the hem of your dress, bunching the black silk upward until it's gathered at your waist. He lets his hand linger there for a moment, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your hips, before he leans down to press a hot, lingering kiss to the hollow of your throat.

"I want to feel every inch of you," he whispers against your skin. "I want to know if you're as sensitive everywhere else as you are right here."

You reach down, your fingers curling around his wrist. With a slow pull, you guide his hand upward, sliding his palm from your thigh toward the swell of your breast.

Dick lets out a sharp, ragged breath against your neck. He follows your lead, his hand gliding up the smooth fabric of the black silk until he cups you fully. He squeezes, a firm pressure that makes your breath hitch. He knows the weight of you, the way you fit perfectly in his palm, and he lingers there, kneading the soft flesh through the dress.

He pulls back just enough to watch your reaction, his expression a mixture of hunger and adoration. "You have no idea," he says, "how many times I've imagined doing this."

His other hand, still resting on your hip, pulls you closer, grinding his pelvis against yours. The friction of his jeans against your underwear is a blunt, heavy heat that makes your head swim. He shifts his focus back to your chest, his thumb brushing over the apex of your breast, circling the hardening peak through the silk.

The sensation is an electric current, radiating from your chest down to the space where he's still pressing against you. He leans in, his lips grazing your jawline, his scent—that clean, woody musk—filling your senses.

"We're in a semi-public room, darling," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "But I can feel how much you want this. I can feel you wanting me."

He lets his hand slide a bit lower, tracing the curve of your ribs, his fingers dancing dangerously close to the neckline of your dress. He looks at you with a challenge in his eyes, wondering if you're ready to let the silk fall.

"Let's find a private alcove."

Dick's pupils darken, a flicker of anticipation crossing his face. He doesn't let go of you, instead shifting his grip to your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours and leading you toward the perimeter of the room.

He steers you behind a heavy, translucent screen that mutes the light and dampens the sound of the other guests. The space is small, barely enough for two people to stand comfortably, with a plush, oversized chaise lounge draped in faux-fur and velvet. The air here feels warmer, more secluded, as if the world has shrunk down to just the two of you.

The moment the screen closes behind you, Dick pins you against the soft fabric of the lounge. He looms over you, his presence overwhelming and focused. He takes a moment to just look at you, his gaze sweeping over the way the black silk of your dress contrasts with the pale glow of your skin.

"Much better," he says.

He reaches for the neckline of your dress. With a slow motion, he slides the fabric down, exposing your shoulder and the curve of your breast. He doesn't rush the reveal, letting the cool air of the room hit your skin before replacing it with the searing heat of his mouth.

He kisses the slope of your shoulder, his teeth grazing you just enough to make you shiver. As he moves lower, his hand finds the hem of your dress again, sweeping the silk upward until it's gathered around your waist, leaving you exposed to him.

He settles between your thighs, his weight a welcome pressure. He looks up at you, a challenge in his blue eyes. "Now that we're alone," he says, "I can finally do everything I've been thinking about."

"Show me."

Dick’s expression shifts, a flash of raw hunger crossing his face. He lets out a heavy breath, his gaze dropping to where your dress is bunched around your waist. He doesn't hesitate. His hand slides from your hip, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh before he finds the lace of your panties.

With one smooth, decisive motion, he hooks his fingers into the fabric and slides them down, tossing them aside. You're completely open to him now, the cool air of the alcove a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from his body. He doesn't move away; instead, he presses his weight more firmly against you, his thigh slotting perfectly between yours.

He leans down, his lips finding the sensitive dip of your collarbone. "I've spent years pretending I didn't want to touch you like this," he says, his voice strained. "Pretending that just being your friend was enough."

His hand returns to the center of your heat, but this time there's no fabric to buffer the sensation. His fingers are warm and sure, sliding inside you with a slow depth that makes your back arch off the lounge. He watches your face, his blue eyes tracking every flicker of pleasure, every hitch in your breath.

"You're so tight," he whispers, his thumb finding your clitoris and applying a steady, rhythmic pressure. "And so wet for me."

He begins to move his fingers in a demanding pace, curling them upward to hit the spot that makes your world blur. He knows exactly what you need, his movements calculated yet passionate. He leans in, his mouth finding yours again in a kiss that tastes of desperation and victory.

As you melt into him, you can feel the hard, insistent length of him pressing against your thigh, a promise of what's to come. He pulls back just an inch, his forehead resting against yours.

"I can't stop at just touching," he gasps. "I want everything."

"I want you inside me."

Dick freezes. The rhythmic motion of his fingers stops instantly, leaving you suspended on a knife's edge of pleasure. He pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression a storm of conflict. His jaw tightens, and a vein pulses in his temple as he fights for control.

"You have no idea how hard it is to hear you say that," he says.

He shifts his weight, the friction of his denim against your bare skin becoming an almost unbearable pressure. He lets out a shuddering breath, his gaze dropping to your lips before snapping back to your eyes.

"We're only at the first sense, darling," he whispers, though his voice lacks its previous composure. "The whole point is the build-up. If I give in now... I might not be able to stop until I've claimed every single part of you."

Despite his words, he doesn't pull away. Instead, he leans down, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply. He lets out a low sound—half-groan, half-sigh—and his hand resumes its work, but the pace has changed. It's no longer a tease; it's a frantic, driving need.

He begins to grind his hips against you in a slow, heavy circle, mimicking the motion of penetration through the fabric of his pants. The pressure is immense, grounding and dizzying all at once.

"Just a little longer," he says against your skin, his voice thick with a desperation that makes your heart race. "I want the anticipation to be so high that when it finally happens, it ruins you."

He pulls back, his blue eyes scanning your face, searching for the level of your desperation. He slides his hand from your core to your waist, gripping you with a strength that borders on possessive.

"Can you handle that? Or do you want me to break the rules right now?"

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

🎮interactive fanfic "Experiencing all the senses" by Amineo