Merciful Lies .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 18+
The air in the bedroom was still and warm, the only sound the soft friction of sheets and the steady, heavy rhythm of Muscular’s breathing. In the silence of your home, the man the world knew as a monster was unrecognizable. There was no manic grin, no bloodlust—only a focused, heartbreaking tenderness as he moved over you.
His massive hands, usually built for crushing, were incredibly light as they framed your face. He treated you like something precious and breakable, his touch hesitant as if he were afraid his own strength might accidentally leave a mark.
Every press of his lips against yours was slow and lingering, a "sweet love" that felt like a silent confession. Between low, ragged breaths, he murmured promises into the crook of your neck—vows of staying, of being yours, of a future that felt almost real.
He moved with a rhythmic, urgent speed, his hips driving forward with a relentless but careful pace. Each time he pushed his massive cock into you, it felt as though he were claiming every inch, filling you so completely that there was no room for anything but the sensation of him.
Despite the power behind each thrust, he kept his weight propped up on his forearms, caging you in a private world of corded muscle. He was a mountain of a man, yet he held you with the delicacy of someone handling fragile glass.
Every time your back arched and a loud, breathless moan broke from your lips, he would lean down, his rough cheek brushing against yours.
"It’s okay, sweetheart." he cooed. "I’ve got you. Just breathe for me."
He caught your cries with soft kisses, his hands sliding underneath you to pull you even tighter against his chest. The contrast was staggering—the raw, overwhelming size of him stretching you, paired with the heartbreakingly sweet way he whispered into your ear, promising that he wasn't going anywhere.
For that hour, the monster was gone, replaced by a man who seemed to find his only peace in the way you came apart beneath him.
When it was over, the silence was heavy with an unspoken weight. You curled into the massive expanse of his chest, your small hand resting over his heart, which was still heavily beating.
"Promise me, Goto." you whispered, voice trembling with a hope that hurt. "Promise me you won’t become what they say. That you’ll stay like this... That you won’t change."
He looked down at you, his expression unreadable for a long moment. Then, he leaned down and pressed a long kiss to your forehead, his eyes closing tight. "I promise." he rasped out, the lie tasting like ash in his throat. "I’ll be better for you."
He held you until your breathing evened out into sleep, memorizing the way you felt in his arms. But as the first hint of a sunrise shined onto the window, he carefully disentangled himself.
He knew who he was—a predator who lived for the rush of the kill. He knew that staying would eventually mean destroying the only soft thing he had ever touched.
Without making a sound, he got dressed and stepped out into the cool morning air, disappearing before you could wake up to find that the man who promised you forever was already gone.