xurimu
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He felt so lightheaded, not having a moment of peace as its hand switched to move contratempo to its thrusts. He needed to finish, he physically couldn't take it anymore.
"Don't stop! Ah! Please... please keep going..."
He pleaded with his voice, his eyes but it did not care.
[Not yet.]
To prove a point, its grip slowly slid down to his base and tightened. Not too fast for it to hurt, but still enough to drown out the orgasm he was craving so much.
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Hey y'all! I decided to re-write this fic because i felt like it wasn't good enough. So i made it WAAAY worse. This is not for the faint hearted.
The one sentence summary is that the Guardian gets FUCKED, physically AND mentally.
Enjoy.Bookmarked by xurimu
29 Jul 2025
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For a moment Enoch considers the same question that had briefly entered his mind after the race: Did Ren let me win?
But that question lost any significance when Marcus was waiting for him outside of the track, helmet under his arm, hair wind-swept-perfect.
“Look at you rookie—“ Marcus had winked. “Stealing my win like a pro.”
Maybe it was the residual high of the race; maybe it was the sight of Marcus’s tight red jacket and that crooked smile.
“Buy the new champion a drink?” Enoch had asked.Bookmarked by xurimu
29 Jul 2025
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A Guardian takes the assigment of eliminating a duo of Subjugators. Things go terribly wrong.
Please mind the tags, they are there for a reason.
(Btw fun fact: all subjugators ingame are female, BUT NOT IN THIS FIC LOL)
Bookmarked by xurimu
29 Jul 2025
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When Pahanin returned to their apartment late that night he expected the others to have gone to sleep long ago. Maybe to find them curled up on the couch, mumbling sweetly to each other. Or even for them to have lost track of time, hunched over some project or other.
Bookmarked by xurimu
29 Jul 2025