もののけ | monster | soshiro hoshina (Kaiju No. 8) (COMPLETE)

ろくじゅういち | sixty one

もののけ | kaiju | monster

61

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains intense and distressing scenes involving physical and emotional abuse, non-consensual acts, and manipulation. Reader discretion is advised.

[TRUTH OF THE PAST]
PART 2

[A lengthy chapter ahead]

Kiyomi

HE'S SUCH A DAMN GOOD KISSER. His lips, soft yet firm, moved against mine with a skill that sent shivers down my spine. It was as if he knew exactly how to make me melt, to break down every last wall I had built around my heart. I was the one who leaned in, the one who dared to bridge the gap between us, but the way he responded, the way he deepened the kiss with such effortless grace—how could he be so good at this?

I felt his hand gently cradle the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair, and I wanted to lose myself in him completely. My thoughts spiraled, racing between the desire to pull him closer and the fear of what he might think of me if I let him know just how badly I wanted him. Desperation clawed at me, the kind that made me want to open up completely, to let him take every part of me, but I hesitated.

I couldn't—no, I wouldn't let him see just how desperate I was.

Because Soshiro, the Soshiro I knew, was a good man. A man who respected me, who treated me with a tenderness that both comforted and frustrated me. I could feel the restraint in him, the way he held back, and it made me want to scream.

He was everything I wanted—everything I needed—and yet, he kept his small distance, honoring boundaries I wasn't sure I wanted anymore.

I don't know if it's just the wildness of being teenagers, driven by hormones and the rush of first love, or if it's something deeper, something primal that calls to the most basic parts of who we are. Maybe it's a mix of both, this undeniable pull towards each other that leaves us breathless, that makes my heart race whenever he's near. But what I do know is that when I'm with him, nothing else seems to matter. It's as if the world narrows down to just the two of us, caught in this electric connection that I can't explain and don't want to.

We're exploring each other in ways that feel so new and yet so familiar, as if we've always known exactly how to fit together. When his lips are on mine, it's not just a kiss—it's a fire, a spark that ignites something deep within me. His kisses are sweet and powertul, tender and consuming, and each one feels like a promise, a declaration of something that words can't fully capture.

I crave them, the way they make me feel alive, the way they pull me closer to him, making me forget everything else.

And his embrace—oh, his embrace. It's a shelter, a haven where I can let go of everything else, where I can just be with him, lost in the sensation of his arms around me. There's a safety in it, a warmth that I can't find anywhere else, and I find myself leaning into it, seeking it out again and again.

We can't seem to stop making out, our bodies drawn together like magnets, and every touch, every kiss only deepens the need, the desire.