Satori's Monster

‘You’ve got another thing coming if you think you're getting out of this, Y/n!’ 

The front door slammed against the wall as Tendo swung it open. 

‘Not answering my texts or calls, leaving me high and dry, do we really need me to miss you any more than I already do?’

If he had his way he would kidnap you from your law firm and make you a partner in his factory. The job would come with part ownership, unlimited potential and… perks. 

‘Y/n?’ His smile wide and a spring in his step, he yelled out again as he gave the open plan apartment a once over. 

He had been patient about your reluctance to get back into running for far too long. 

You were making great progress up until the recent flu season, and you were out for two weeks with a bad cold. Any athlete knew a two week break was as good as pushing the restart button. 

Tendo also knew you were eager to get back in the gym full time. But the heavy chest and cough that the flu had left behind needed to clear out first. Since then your evenings consisted of walks, and light jogging. 

The desired effect was met, but you wouldn’t budge about running; having always hated that form of cardio.

Before the flu you'd had a steady pace that you didn't waver on out of pure discipline, but getting you back to it had been a pain in the ass. 

For days he’d been pushing the subject, until you finally ran out of excuses and relented. 

He was excited to leave the factory early and get his running shoes on. To him there was no comparison to that type of refocus. The air in his lungs, the feel of his rushing pulse and the urge to keep his legs going long after they had reached their limit.

It was good for clearing the head. 

His smile dimmed down as the seconds ticked by without an answer.

The silence he was met with when he entered your apartment was out of character but not above being part of one of your grand schemes to escape cardio for the day.

You weren't in the kitchen or the lounge area. The TV was silent and the terrace door shut. The sliding door and at least some of the windows were always open when you were home. 

It was an aesthetic thing. The fresh oxygen from your plants outside, the chilly wind from your highrise apartment, the open air somehow breathing new life into the atmosphere.

You had that in common, needing the sharp clarity. The slap on the wrist from nature to pause in your thoughts and appreciate the present time. 

Your penchant for working hand in hand with the universe and going with the flow made more sense to him than you realized. He just had a more direct approach to things. 

He was Tendo Satori. World renowned chocolatier and infamous Guess Monster of the volleyball court from his heyday in Shiratorizawa Academy. Bypassing the bullies, the weird looks and the rejection – he did what he wanted, when he wanted and didn't let any form of the word ‘no’ phase him. Returning to Tokyo had been the best decision he’d ever made too. It was the reason he’d found you.

He paused; his confusion palpable.

Glancing down at the compact shoe stand just inside the doorway, he noticed your day shoes were still present and your house shoes weren't. So you were definitely in here. 

‘I will find you.’ He stated more softly as he kicked off his shoes and closed the door behind him. There was no doubt about it. 

Making his way through the layout of your apartment that was now second nature, he noted that there was no brew of coffee in the air either. You usually have a cup every few hours. 

The narrow hallway leading out of the lounge housed doorways to your bedroom, bathroom and study. He would bet his money on any of them. 

But on further inspection of the study and bathroom, the doors were wide open - and unoccupied. 

The slightly ajar door of your bedroom was a telltale sign, but every game of hide and seek needed a bit of time to play out. Where was the fun in winning early? 

Pushing the door open, knocking being an unnecessary politeness at this stage, his smile was returned to him at the sight he was met with. 

The only light in your bedroom peeked from between two closed curtains that covered a wall span of mid-level to ceiling high windows. The sundown rays barely reached the foot of the bed, leaving most of the room in evening shadow.

The double bed in the center of the room sat between a one seater against the wall, a tiny dresser for your nighttime essentials and your current read of the week.

He walked into the room, taking care to avoid the pillows that were thrown haphazardly to the floor. His presence blended into your personal bubble that had already grown accustomed to him.

There you were in the middle of the bed. Scattered across your pillow was your hair, your eyes closed and your breaths uneven as your body curled up in a fetal position around a particularly large pillow. 

On instinct his eyes scanned the MSBY Black Jackals team calendar stuck on the side of your bedroom cupboard. The 17th of July. He sighed softly. It was that time.

His change of plans were immediate. No longer was running and a healthy meal on the agenda. It was time for comfort and calories.

Softly stepping around the pillows, he had spied your phone upon entering and turned it over to see a number of unread messages both from him and a few friends. But nothing seemed too urgent, no one more important. 

As far as he knew, you definitely attended work, so you either started cramping later in the day or probably stuck it out until you got home.

The battery percentage was 42% so he plugged your phone to charge and kept it on silent taking care to turn it over again for when the screen lit up with notifications. 

Leaving the room, he made quick work of ordering food instead of opting to make it himself because he was not sure of how long you hadn't eaten and he would rather keep his focus on you.

He squinted at his phone, caught between spicy ramen or spicy chicken or spicy tuna. You liked all three and all were comfort food and he knew of two different establishments that would be happy to add on. A lightbulb went off in his brain and he pulled up a frequent contact. 

‘Onigiri Miya, how can I help you?’ 

‘Ushiwaka!’ Tendo whisper yelled. ‘Can I get an urgent delivery?’

‘Uh… sure, please state your order, name and address, Sir?’ 

Tendo’s left eye twitched. ‘Wakatoshi.’ He replied slowly. Mildly offended that his best friend did not recognize his voice.

‘... Yes, that is my name, please state yours and what I can get for you?’

Tendo slapped his forehead. ‘It’s Satori!’ 

On instinct he looked toward the door of the bedroom, hoping he didn’t wake you up.

‘Tendo.’ Wakatoshi Ushijima stated over the phone line, Tendo understood it was partly a greeting.

He sighed loudly, squeezing his eyes to shut out the need to fight with Ushiwaka over the phone. ‘Would you be able to schedule a delivery for two platters in the next 20-30 minutes?’ He knew you would want options and sushi would be the most filling and binding enough to tide you over till tomorrow. 

‘Yes. We can squeeze in a drop off for that time. Should I tell the kitchen the spicy tuna rolls are for y/n?’

Tendo scoffed. Y/n he remembered easily. He whistled out a breath. ‘Yes, please tell Samu it’s for y/n, Wakatoshi.’ Y/n was known for haggling Osamu for spicy tuna and any new spicy recipes and he would know how best to make her order.

‘Payment on delivery?’ Tendo offered after a few seconds of soft clicking and silence.

‘That would be perfect. Enjoy your evening Tendo.’

‘I’ll visit you at the shop soon.’ It was a mild threat. 

‘Okay.’

The dial tone lasted a second before he clicked off. 

Tendo’s eye twitched again as he continued looking at his cellphone, resisting the urge to throw it. Always so calm, collected and unphased was Wakatoshi Ushijima.

He whistled another breath, before dropping his phone on the kitchen counter and moving on to the rest of his tasks.

He put coffee to brew, noted that there was chocolate in the fridge and peeked into the bedroom one more time before he tore his shirt off to shower.

As he pulled his red hair back, a bulk of it in one of your hair ties, so it didn’t get too wet, he caught a glimpse of the outline of a curled up fox on his left rib cage. Long-tail curled around the small form of a female fox, sleeping soundly – his Y/n was just as simple, just as vibrant, just as feline, just as secure in his presence. The matching black fox with a slightly shorter tail sitting up with his ears perked would easily be found on your right shoulder blade.

The match was easily deduced, your connection unyielding, the loyalty unending. He would always have your back… you would always be close to his heart.

Love was very different with you. Somehow it didn't require too much effort to keep up. Were you stubborn, a bit controlling, easily swayed by emotions and headstrong about your opinions, sure. But you were adaptable. You heard him out, kept up with his antics and newly found hobbies and supported his idea to open his own chocolate factory too. A risky idea akin to becoming Willy Wonka and building a castle in the sky, but you supported him anyway. 

The world was too big to be realistic but too small not to have firm foundations for any big dreams. And the middle is where you made yourself comfortable. You taught him it could be comfortable. 

Conversation was easy. Fighting was hard. Like when you were offered a job at a new branch in a different region — a promotion to run it, and you refused because your heart was with him. He would have moved too, but by then he'd invested in his factory and he didn't like holding you back. Ultimately it was your decision. 

Choosing you on your hard days, cooking dinner, letting you vent, providing input or just being there seemed to be everything for you.

Those nights, when tears leaked from the edge of your vision and you weren't strong enough to carry it all, you let it free. He found you then, his tongue lapping at the tears, his long fingers firm on your thighs, his teeth teasing, coaxing, driving you over while he held all your shattered pieces together. 

Some days were harder than others. Like when machinery broke at the factory or someone put in the wrong quantity of ingredients ruining an urgent batch or even dispatching too much stock. A start-up that he needed to keep up with, he did his best, but some days his best just didn’t cut it. 

Those days you let him swipe at you, let him taunt the reality of what was, his honesty a bit cutting, and unnecessary. But you curled into his side, never allowing him to push you too far away and when he worked his way out of his head, he would hold you as close as possible. 

Making love to you on those nights were primal, edgy, kinky, nothing off the table, very few hard limits. And a combination of colors, your only lifeline to stay sane. 

He was loud and rowdy. You were quiet and observant. But you could keep him in check and he could hear you in the silence. 

Maybe days like these where you were overly sensitive and could cry at the drop of a hat were supposed to be harder. He didn't think so. 

In honesty, he saw your monthly cycle from a mile away. Your boobs were sensitive, you looked a bit plush and rounded, your appetite seesawed between not hungry and ravenous and you were extremely restless and horny.

He knew you enough to notice the signs. And he would never tell you this, because you would hate it, but he loved when you were like this. 

He didn’t mind the blood. The messy sheets and underwear. Making a last minute run for pads or tampons. And definitely didn’t mind a bit of blood on his cock when you asked him to make you feel a bit better. 

When you were this vulnerable and sensitive and overwhelmed he was ready to grab a hold of you with both arms and keep you close. Feed you food. Share showers with you. Just overall dote on you and revel in the right to do every bit of it. 

Plus, you already knew he had a thing for dacryphilia. It played a big role when orgasms helped with the cramps. First three days were either the best or the worst. He preferred the former over the latter.

It was not that you didn't let him take the lead on most decisions or consider him in every scenario, but some masculine pride had to be felt at the fact that in these moments, for these few days, you followed him blindly and without question. 

Deep in his thoughts he didn't even notice he was on autopilot until he answered the door. He'd already had fresh clothes on, his hair slightly damp and skin flushed from a hot shower. A gray sweatpants he used when he stayed over and an old, frayed at the edges, purple shirt he had bought in Paris, easy material that you wouldn't find too abrasive against your skin. 

Once done paying up and thanking the delivery guy, Tendo placed the food on the counter but didn't unpack anything yet. 

He would usually take time to tease the person doing the delivery. Something easygoing, like receiving the order with his head upside down, or rising to his full height to be unnerving. If he was in a good mood he might make easy friends with them, provide unsolicited advice to the college goers or tell a mild secret about the volleyball professionals that would make Onigiri Miya an interesting hotspot for a few days. Then he would wait for a phone call where Y/n’s favorite Miya twin would sigh heavily, the simple action taking a lot of effort from the very composed male.

By now it was dark, the sun set at least half an hour ago, and the dull street light hue shone through the lounge. He drew those curtains, making sure no light peeked through. He knew your eyes tended to be sensitive to light and too much exposure would give you a headache, which would only cause you to be even more miserable.

Ticking the boxes in his head, as he switched on and dimmed the lights of the apartment, he unplugged the heating pad and made his last stop to the bedroom. 

You had turned over to face the doorway and were a little awake, probably having heard all his shuffling. 

He leaned against the door jam. 

‘Hi.’ You said softly. A small strained smile on your face. He didn't like when you were in pain, but he masked the twinge of irritation he felt curl around him. Focusing rather on your voice and how you were feeling.

He knew how bad the cramps could get. And he didn't like how he could never fix it. Not yet anyway. A nine month break was a plan for the future. 

He swallowed hard, doing his best to stop himself from imagining you with a round belly, a glow to your skin, his baby inside of you… the surge of protectiveness almost making him snarl. Dammit, it was not time to get you pregnant.

Instead he tilted his head to the side. ‘That bad, huh.’

Tears welled in your eyes at his words. He knew it was an involuntary reaction. You were frustrated, had every right to be too. But the irritation he originally thought he could handle could be felt in his taut cheeks. 

‘Just a few days.’ You reminded him. A tiny attempt to make the inscrutable expression on his face soften.

‘Can I move you?’ He asked before he could help himself. He needed to be close. He needed you close.

You barely had time to finish a head nod before he made his way over and climbed gently onto the bed. 

You expected him to curl up behind you and spoon. But he sat up against the headboard and as gently as possible brought your back to lean against his front. 

The slight jostling had you moaning in discomfort. Your clothes were too abrasive. And you were both hot and cold. But the cramps in your belly were the worst. The type of pain that can't be pinpointed or fixed — just felt. It made you hypersensitive to almost everything.

‘Shhh,’ he soothed, his lips finding the top of your head. His kiss was a tender reassurance, making you feel completely together despite unraveling your senses even more.

You tensed slightly when his arms came around you and he placed the heat pack on your belly. 

‘Mmmmh,’ you whined in slight relief as the heat seeped through your clothes. You gave yourself a minute before sighing and leaving your entire body weight to sag on your boyfriend. 

You felt his smirk. ‘Better?’

Letting yourself lean against his shoulder, you hid your face in the crook of his neck and let the world disappear. ‘What would I do without you Satori?’

‘Exactly what you were just now.’ He replied easily, his fingers crawling up under your shirt and applying light pressure at your sides. ‘And somehow you would find the strength to take care of yourself.’ You groaned at the slight pressure, the pain from the cramps slowly becoming manageable. ‘Eventually.’ He added after a moment.

‘But,’ he stopped and one hand slid up your body to tilt your chin up. ‘I'm here to make it a bit better.’ 

He pecked you on the lips and let you relax again. 

‘Reconsider,’ you teased. ‘This is almost every month for the rest of your life.’

‘I don't scare easily, baby.’ His answer was instinctive. ‘I'm the monster in the dark, remember.’

Awkward position aside, you tilted your head up again to peck his chin. A small reminder that you had accepted every single part of him a long time ago. 

You both sat in silence, in the dark. Feeling each other's heartbeat align. His arms around you, strong and secure, his cheek pressed up against your forehead — like no other moment in the world could be more perfect. 

‘There's food,’ he whispered after a few minutes, ‘coffee and chocolate. And a very famous chocolatier at your every beck and call.’ 

‘Spicy food?’ Appetite mood swings aside, your mouth watered at the option. 

‘Osamu’s best.’ 

‘Belgian coffee?’ Only the best that he would bulk order for you. 

He hummed. 

You smiled to yourself this time. You had no choice but to count yourself lucky. ‘I might just be in love with you.’

‘Yeah? How can you be so sure?’ It was a very Tendo question. Where he knew, as you had both confessed months ago, but he would like an elaboration anyway. 

‘Because… ‘ 

It may be more than a few months since you’d started dating, but how could you explain it without sounding insane? How could you say that you needed to hide yourself in the crook of his neck. That you needed his arms around you and his fingers intertwined with yours. How could you explain that his work cologne was strong but his clean Satori skin felt like home. That his body curled around yours and his lean legs that held firm on the outside of your thighs were a cocoon of safety. That Tendo Satori’s wit and humor and smile and song were a force to be reckoned with and your whole heart only ever craved more of him. 

‘I want to turn you around so I can watch the emotions race across your features, but I'm trying to take care of you.’ His long index finger traced his name on the top of your thigh. The sensation tickled, and had you shivering in anticipation. 

‘I'm thinking.’ You answered through clouded thoughts. 

His chest shook with laughter. ‘Questioning if you love me? You do.’ The only reason you knew not to get offended was because he wasn't laughing at you — he'd never do that to you. His laughter was a Satori-trait. It didn’t always signify humor, rather a clear sign of his confidence, sometimes an acknowledgement, on the odd day… a dare.

‘I'm thinking about how I know I never want to lose you.’ You answered softly. ‘That I always want you with me when it gets tough, and I want to tell you first when things go right, and have you cheer for me in the same way you sing your song.’

‘What about how much you love me?’ He pressed on. 

It was not love. It went deeper than that. He knew it too. 

On surface level may seem simple, but Tendo Satori lived his whole life making peace with the fact that he chose not to flee and not to fight, he chose to just ‘be’ – he was a monster of a different kind. What did that make you, that you tasted his heartache on his lips and chose him anyway.

This time he did turn you around. His patience running thin when you didn’t answer. 

He lifted you up easily, his lean body and muscle strength, aging like fine wine and strategically maneuvered your body so you straddled his lap, the heat pad stuck securely between your bodies and your arms finding purchase on his neck. 

You winced slightly at the new position, but you also felt better being face to face. A serious conversation popping up in a very not ideal situation.

His big round eyes shined with mirth and… some other unnameable emotion. Something darker. A promise. And the vow to do absolutely anything to keep it. 

He touched his nose to yours as you held eye contact. ‘You're never getting rid of me, you know.’ He pulled back and a slow smile grew on his face. ‘You have to love me.’ He blinked. ‘You have to love me alot.’ 

His tone mocking you playfully, purposely provoking, stirred up a need to lean in further and bite. ‘In fact, you have to marry me too.’

Your eyebrows shot up, not missing a beat before awarding him a response. ‘Are you proposing?’

‘I can if you want me to.’ He was nonchalant, his gaze now hooded. A sense of all-knowing overcoming his energy. Like you should consider it done if that's what you really wanted, but it would be a mere formality. ‘I can do the flowers in a heart on the floor.’ He brought one of your arms forward from around his neck. ‘I can do candles and fairy lights.’ He placed a tender kiss on the inside of your elbow. ‘I can get down on one knee.’ He snorted. ‘Or both.’ Then his fingers curled between your own and he met your eyes. His own, a quiet smolder of heat and resolution. ‘I can tell you how much I love you too, y/n.’ 

‘I didn't s—,’ 

‘You don't have to.’ 

His other hand snaked around the back of your neck and pulled you further into him. His face, a hair's breadth away from yours. ‘I can promise you forever.’ He whispered against your lips. ‘And a life together. And to stand with you until the very end.’

‘But most of all,’ he placed a tender kiss below your eye, removing the wetness you didn't seem to notice until now. ‘I'll remind you that I can't unlove you. That this scarred heart, this weird complex man, labeled for as long as he can remember, found a world within having you that he never wants to leave.’

You couldn't speak, your throat clogged with emotions too intense to unravel, a cloying need to cry and make sense of what you just heard, but you could only feel. ‘How ‘m I supposed to top that?’

His lips formed a triangle shape, mouth open and his teeth showing off a burst of happiness. ‘You say, yes.’

The single word was cataclysmic. It cascaded through you, all the many reasons you could never not choose him. His sharp wit, his daring nature, his competitive spirit and perspective on life. His weird hair and resilience to stand up after being pushed down, a force of nature in his love. 

‘Say yes.’ You repeated back to yourself. There was never any question. 

‘Say yes.’ He decreed. His focus entirely on your lips, the heat of his words waiting to fold into yours.

He waited. He didn’t prompt, tease or provoke… he just waited. And for a man that would do anything to get what he wants, that simple action was your undoing. ‘Yes, it is then.’ 

He captured his lips with your own and immediately the world spun on its axis. 

Kissing Tendo Satori was like crossing a line you may never find your way back to. There were no sparks or fireworks in the background, just a deep need. It had the potential to be sickly sweet or bitter and dark, a chocolaty thickness that melted to an unhealthy point of no return. He was an addiction, his smile a borderline threat and demanding lips, a reminder that you no longer belonged to yourself. 

‘Guess I have a label now too.’ You sighed softly when you came up for air. 

His forehead touched yours, eyes closed, breathing hard. ‘What's that?’ 

You covered his heartbeat with your hand, making a silent promise of your own. ‘The girl that fell in love with a monster.’