bronbrons

[bronbrons]

-lift up your shirt? good boy

(character is over 18!)

[bronbrons]

Sally face x reader (SF)

Feat: Sal Fisher x Reader

Mild language / swearing | Awkward accidental cuddling (in sleep) | Reader initially judges Sal (calls him creepy/weird) | Mutual secondhand embarrassment | Light teen awkwardness | Enemies-to-??? vibes

You weren’t happy about the tent assignments. Not even a little bit.

Your name next to his on the sheet? The quiet guy with blue pigtails and a creepy-ass mask who everyone whispered about? Great. Just great.

You tried to protest, to ask your teacher if there had been some mistake, but nope—“All the other tents are full, sweetheart. He’s not gonna bite you.”

Bite you? You weren’t so sure.

You avoided eye contact all day. At the campfire, when he sat nearby, you scooted an inch farther. When he offered to help put the tent up, you declined and muttered something about handling it yourself.

The truth was, you didn’t know him, and that made you uncomfortable. His silence. The mask. The pigtails. The blank, eerie stare whenever someone talked to him.

And now here you were—forced to sleep not two feet away from him. On the cold, hard ground. In the dark.

You’d turned to face the tent wall, wrapping your hoodie tighter around yourself. You didn’t even say goodnight. You just closed your eyes and prayed for the night to go quickly.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Sal stirred. Blinking through the faint blue glow of the moonlight sneaking through the tent’s fabric.

Something was warm. Pressed against his side.

He shifted slowly.

His eyes moved down—your arm was slung across his chest. Your face buried against his neck. Your leg had even draped over his.

Sal froze.

What the fuck.

He looked down at you like you’d grown a second head. His heart skipped. Not romantically, but more like “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON”.

He’d barely spoken to you. You clearly didn’t like him.

Yet here you were, nuzzled against him like you’d known him forever.

“…Uh,” Sal mumbled, voice low and hesitant, trying not to wake you.

Your hand twitched in your sleep. A small sigh escaped your lips.

Was she having a nightmare?

Sal awkwardly adjusted, unsure if he should push you off or let you sleep. His body was stiff, unsure of boundaries, unsure of how the hell this even happened.

And then—

You blinked awake.

Your eyes opened slowly, head still nestled against him.

For a full two seconds, your brain didn’t register anything off. You were warm, comfortable… safe, even.

Then it hit.

You pulled back fast—way too fast, scrambling like you’d just woken up in someone else’s bed.

“What the hell?!” you hissed, eyes wide. “Why the fuck were we—?!”

Sal just stared at you.

Deadpan. Blinking once.

“You crawled into me,” he said flatly, voice laced with dry disbelief.

“I did not! Why would I—?! Ew!”

Sal shrugged stiffly, rolling over and giving you his back. “Maybe you got cold. Or you do it in your sleep.”

You glared daggers into his spine, face burning.

You cuddled the creepy masked guy.

You weren’t going to live this down.

“…Don’t tell anyone,” you muttered under your breath, pulling your sleeping bag as far away as the cramped tent allowed.

“…Didn’t plan to,” he replied, voice still soft and dry.

But behind his mask, he was smirking. Just a little.

[bronbrons]

about me.

✧ Name: Bronbron/Bron ✧ Age: 18 ✧ Minors DNI (under 18)

✧ DNI: Mentions or support of rape, pedophilia, necrophilia Proshippers Bullies / rude people (cause no?) Problematic energy in general — leave it at the door

✧ Interests: ・Anime & Manga — Bungou Stray Dogs, BNHA, MHA, Tokyo Revengers, Demon Slayer, Soul Eater, Death Note, Blue Lock, The Summer Hikaru Died + more ・Writing — angst > smut > fluff (yes, in that order) ・Reading — fanfics, manga, chaos ・Music — Current faves: My Way (Frank Sinatra), Be My Baby (The Ronettes) Genres: Phonk, hip-hop, old-fashioned, country ・Characters with trauma — if they're broken, I’m obsessed ・I romanticise villains. Proudly.

favourite Anime characters:

Bungou Stray Dogs (BSD)

Fyodor — Mastermind villain with that eerie calm and genius plans.

Dazai — Dark humor and tragic charm.

Nikolai — Wild, chaotic, and unpredictable energy.

Chuuya — Fierce loyalty and fiery attitude.

Q — Creepy, powerful, mysterious.

Tatsuhiko — Calm, cunning, and deadly clever.

Bram — Melancholy vampire with ancient power.

Tokyo Revengers (Tokrev)

Mikey — Innocent face with a ruthless heart.

Sanzu — Sadistic but complicated.

Ran — Hot-headed protector.

Rindou — Cool and deadly calm.

Wakasa — Tough but loyal.

Takashi — Reliable and kind.

Kazutora — Emotional and tragic.

My Hero Academia (MHA)

Shigaraki — Tragic villain with raw power.

Dabi — Painful, cold, fiery.

Bakugo — Explosive temper with hidden care.

Overhaul — Creepy perfectionist villain.

Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun (TBHK)

Hanako — Mischievous but deep.

Tsukasa — Dark and conflicted.

Yashiro — Strong-willed and kind.

Teru — Bright and optimistic.

Kou — Serious but caring.

Sakura — Bold and rebellious.

Matsuba — Chaotic charm.

Death Note

Light — Genius with a god complex.

Misa — Dramatic and loyal.

L — Quirky genius detective.

Near — Cool and calculated.

Soul Eater

Death the Kid — OCD perfectionist with skill.

Maka — Determined and kind.

Soul — Laid-back and dependable.

Franken Stein — Mad scientist vibe.

Patty — Bubbly and cheerful.

Black Butler

• Grell Sutcliff (Black Butler) — Loud, flamboyant Grim Reaper with a dramatic flair and a chaotic heart.

• The Undertaker (Black Butler) — Mysterious, creepy former Grim Reaper; quirky, darkly humorous mentor.

[bronbrons]

Sanzu x Reader part 3

Warnings: NSFW, explicit PIV, unprotected sex, creampie, oral, fingering, rough sex, possessiveness, power imbalance, dubious consent (but ultimately (Very) consensual), angst, overstimulation, emotional conflict.

Sanzu’s breath was warm against my neck, his lips brushing the skin just below my ear, making me shiver as his fingers worked their way lower—deliberate, unhurried, but with no intention of stopping.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his, even as my chest rose and fell with sharp breaths, even as the flush crept over my cheeks. The way he looked at me… it was like he owned me already, even though I hadn’t said the words.

“You’re not saying no anymore,” he murmured, his smirk curling wider as his hand slipped fully past the waistband of my pants. “Finally honest with yourself?”

The air caught in my throat as I felt the tips of his fingers brush over my underwear, pressing just lightly enough to feel the heat radiating there. He hummed softly, almost like a laugh, when I stiffened under his touch.

“You’re soaking through already,” he whispered into my hair, his middle finger tracing over the damp fabric slowly, teasingly. “And you still think you don’t want me?”

I bit my lip hard, trying to hold back the noise that threatened to escape when his finger pressed just a little more firmly, rubbing along my clothed slit. The friction was maddening—enough to make my knees weak, but not enough to satisfy anything.

“Sanzu…” I managed, my voice a strained whisper, though I didn’t know if I was trying to stop him or beg him to keep going.

He chuckled darkly, his other hand sliding up to tilt my chin toward him. “Say my name again,” he demanded softly, his thumb brushing over my jaw as his fingers finally slipped past the thin fabric of my underwear, skin to skin now.

The gasp that left me was loud enough to echo faintly in the empty hallway.

“There you are,” he murmured, fingers running through the slickness at my core before circling my clit with a slow, firm stroke that made me bite back a moan. “That’s what I wanted to hear. Don’t hold back now… let me hear you.”

He pressed his forehead to mine as his fingers found a steady rhythm, sliding down to dip two fingers inside me before dragging them back up to circle my clit again, over and over. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve in my body lighting up with each stroke of his fingers.

The wet sound of him working me over filled the air between us, obscene and impossible to ignore, and his lips curled into something dark and pleased as my hips bucked toward him, chasing the friction I swore I didn’t want.

“You don’t even realize how pretty you sound like this,” he murmured, his fingers pumping into me now, curling just enough to drag another moan out of my chest. “How long have you been pretending you didn’t want someone to touch you like this, huh?”

My hands clutched at his jacket, trying to ground myself as his fingers worked deeper, faster now, his palm pressing against my clit with every thrust of his hand. My body felt hot, unsteady, everything inside me tightening with each stroke of his long fingers as he worked me closer to the edge.

“That’s it… good girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing mine, not quite kissing me yet as his fingers curled inside me again, his thumb circling my clit just right this time. “You feel that? That’s all you… falling apart for me.”

The words pushed me even closer, my hips moving against his hand as the coil inside me wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap any second.

“I… can’t—” I gasped, but he cut me off, pressing his lips against mine finally, kissing me hard as his fingers drove into me one last time, sending me tumbling over the edge with a cry muffled into his mouth.

I felt my legs shake as he worked me through it, his pace slowing only after I was clinging to him, my breath ragged and uneven against his shoulder.

When he finally pulled his hand away, I felt the loss immediately, but before I could say anything, he raised his slick fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied smirk.

“You taste just as good as I thought you would,” he said lowly, his eyes locking onto mine. “And don’t even think about running from me now.”

I could only stare back, my chest heaving, every part of me still reeling from what just happened—because I already knew I wouldn’t be able to.

My heart was still hammering wildly, my breath coming in uneven gasps, as the haze of pleasure slowly gave way to reality. His fingers were gone now, but the ghost of his touch lingered on my skin, in my bones. My thighs trembled where he’d left me leaning against the wall, and it took every ounce of control not to collapse entirely.

Sanzu’s eyes stayed locked on me, and I hated how satisfied he looked. That smug smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he took in the sight of me—flushed, disheveled, still reeling from what he’d done.

I swallowed thickly, trying to push words past the tightness in my throat, but he moved first. His hand came up to my face, cupping my cheek almost tenderly, his thumb stroking just under my eye as if to wipe away some invisible mark.

“You shouldn’t look so guilty,” he said softly, his tone surprisingly gentle compared to everything that had just happened. “You wanted it. Every second of it.”

I turned my head away from his touch on instinct, but he only chuckled, his hand falling from my cheek to the wall beside me, trapping me there.

“You still gonna try to tell me otherwise?” he asked, his breath ghosting over my neck. “Because your body’s already betrayed you, Y/N. You feel it, don’t you? You still feel me.”

And he was right. I did. The heat he’d left inside me hadn’t faded; if anything, it was burning hotter now that he’d stopped. My thighs clenched involuntarily at the thought, and his eyes darted down to catch it, his grin widening knowingly.

“I hate you,” I finally spat, though even to my own ears, it sounded weak.

“Liar,” Sanzu murmured, leaning in to press his lips just under my jaw, lingering there as if savoring the way my pulse jumped beneath his mouth.

I shoved at his chest weakly, but his hands were already sliding back to my hips, holding me firmly in place. “Don’t—don’t think this means anything,” I said breathlessly, even as my body betrayed me again, melting into his touch.

He pulled back just enough to look me in the eye, and the sharpness there almost made me flinch. “Oh, but it does,” he said low, his fingers flexing against my hips. “It means everything. To both of us. You can keep lying if it makes you feel better. But you’ll come back. You’ll always come back.”

I shook my head quickly, trying to gather the shreds of my composure, but he only pressed closer, his knee slipping between mine to part my legs again. I gasped softly at the sudden pressure, my hands flying up to his shoulders more to steady myself than to push him away.

“See?” he murmured, his lips brushing mine without fully kissing me. “Even now… you’re still letting me touch you. You’re still aching for more.”

The worst part was how right he was.

When he finally kissed me again, it was slow this time, controlled. His lips moved over mine deliberately, as if savoring every second, every reaction he pulled from me. His tongue slipped past my lips, curling with mine, and my fingers dug helplessly into the fabric of his jacket as the heat flared between us all over again.

I could feel his hands roaming now—one sliding around to grip my ass firmly, the other slipping under my shirt to splay over my stomach, his fingers warm against my skin.

“You feel so fucking good,” he whispered against my mouth, his voice breaking into a low groan as he pressed himself harder against me, letting me feel the hard line of his cock straining against his pants.

That realization sent a rush of heat to my cheeks, but it also made my stomach clench with something darker, deeper.

“You want me to stop?” he asked suddenly, his lips hovering just over mine, his hand still teasing circles on my bare stomach. “Tell me now if you want me to stop.”

The words caught in my throat. I should have said yes. I should have shoved him away. But instead… I stayed quiet.

That was all the answer he needed.

His lips crashed back onto mine with renewed urgency, his hands now moving with more confidence, more need. He tugged my pants open, slipping his hand back between my thighs, and I moaned into his mouth as his fingers found me again—wet and already aching for him.

“That’s it,” he murmured against my lips, pumping his fingers in and out at a steady rhythm, his thumb circling my clit expertly. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear how much you need me.”

My hips moved against his hand instinctively, the pleasure building even faster this time as he worked me over with deliberate skill, his breath ragged in my ear.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, kissing along my neck, biting softly at the skin there. “You’re gonna feel even better wrapped around me. Fuck… I can’t wait to fuck you properly.”

The words alone sent a shiver of anticipation through me, my nails digging into his shoulders as my body tensed and then finally gave in, another wave of pleasure crashing over me with a muffled cry into his shoulder.

Sanzu pulled his hand away slowly this time, dragging his fingers up to his mouth again, sucking them clean with a dark, satisfied grin.

“You taste like heaven,” he murmured, his eyes heavy with lust.

I stood there, still breathless, still clinging to him despite myself, my legs weak and my mind clouded.

And as he leaned in, brushing his lips over mine one last time, he whispered softly, almost tenderly:

“This is just the beginning, Y/N. You don’t get to walk away from me now.”

I hated the way my heart skipped at those words.

But I knew he was right.

Sanzu’s breath stayed hot against my lips as his fingers finally left me completely, though his hands didn’t stray far. He cupped my jaw with one hand, tilting my face up so I had no choice but to meet his gaze. His expression was… complicated. Still hungry, still smug—but softer around the edges, too, something harder to name.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his thumb stroking over my cheek. “You can’t even stand without me holding you up, can you?”

I swallowed hard, still clutching weakly at his jacket, my legs trembling despite myself. “Shut up,” I whispered hoarsely, though there was no real bite to it.

His grin widened. “Oh, there’s the Y/N I know.”

I tried to push him away, even if only to put a little space between us, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he stepped closer again, his body pressing me back against the wall as he dipped his head to kiss my throat.

“Don’t do that,” I said breathlessly, though my hands stayed fisted in his clothes.

“Don’t do what?” he murmured against my neck, his lips trailing slowly up to my jaw, “Don’t touch you? Don’t make you feel good? Or don’t act like you already belong to me?”

That last one struck deeper than I wanted to admit.

Sanzu’s hands slid down, one settling possessively at the small of my back while the other caught my wrist, prying it off his jacket just to lace our fingers together instead. His grip was warm, firm—claiming.

“You’re shaking,” he observed quietly, his smirk softening just a fraction. “You need a minute?”

I glared up at him, though my face was still burning, my chest still heaving. “I don’t need anything from you.”

“Liar,” he said again, almost amused. “But fine. I’ll give you a minute.”

To my surprise, he finally stepped back, letting go of me entirely. The air between us felt colder instantly, but I forced myself to straighten, to fix my shirt and button my pants with shaky fingers while his eyes followed my every move.

When I finally looked up at him again, he was leaning lazily against the opposite wall, his arms folded, watching me with that same sharp, knowing grin.

“You’re not even gonna thank me?” he asked casually.

“Thank you?” I echoed incredulously, narrowing my eyes.

“For making you feel better,” he said easily, shrugging one shoulder. “Don’t pretend you don’t feel better now than you did before I caught you out here. You were wound so fucking tight.”

I scoffed and brushed past him, determined to get back to my room and put some kind of distance between us, even if only for a moment.

But of course he didn’t let me go far. His hand shot out, catching my wrist again before I could take more than two steps.

“Where are you going?”

“To bed,” I said flatly.

He leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear. “Not without me, you’re not.”

I froze.

“You really think I’m done with you already?” he continued in a low murmur. “You think I was just gonna finger you in the hallway and send you on your way? Cute.”

I turned my head to glare at him, but before I could speak, he was already tugging me along behind him. Not roughly—but firmly. Decisively.

He led me down the hall without another word, his pace unhurried, his grip warm but unrelenting. He didn’t even glance back at me; he just assumed I would follow.

And I hated how right he was.

When we reached his room, he didn’t bother with the light. He pushed the door open, pulled me inside, and kicked it shut behind us. The faint glow of the city lights outside was just enough to see the outline of his figure as he backed me up against the wall again, caging me in with his arms.

“You gonna run?” he asked softly, his face close enough that I could feel his lips ghosting over mine.

I hesitated just a little too long, and he grinned. “Didn’t think so.”

This time, the kiss he gave me was slow—teasing. His tongue traced my lower lip before slipping inside, his hands sliding down my sides to grip my hips. His body pressed fully against mine now, and I could feel the hard length of him straining against his pants, pressing into my stomach.

“Feel that?” he murmured into the kiss. “That’s what you do to me. Every fucking time you look at me like you hate me… I can’t stop thinking about how good you’d feel wrapped around me.”

My breath caught again, my body betraying me as his words settled low in my stomach like molten heat.

He chuckled darkly against my mouth and pulled back just enough to tug my shirt over my head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. His eyes roamed over me with something feral, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Perfect,” he muttered, almost to himself, before lowering his head to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of my collarbone.

I gasped softly when his hands slid around to my back, unhooking my bra with practiced ease before tossing it aside. His hands came back to cup my breasts, his thumbs circling my nipples until they peaked under his touch.

“So sensitive,” he whispered, nipping lightly at my throat as his thumbs rolled over me again. “You’re making such pretty noises already.”

I bit my lip hard, trying to hold back a moan, but he caught my chin in his hand and tilted my face up.

“Don’t,” he said flatly, though his eyes glinted with amusement. “I wanna hear all of it. Every sound you make is mine now.”

And then he dropped to his knees.

I froze, startled, but he only smirked up at me as he hooked his fingers into my waistband and tugged my pants and underwear down in one slow, smooth motion.

When his tongue darted out to taste me, I couldn’t hold back the sharp gasp that broke from my throat, my hand flying to his hair instinctively.

He groaned low against me, the sound vibrating through me as he licked a long, slow stripe up my slit before circling my clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted,” he muttered, almost reverently, before diving back in with more determination.

His hands gripped my thighs firmly, keeping me in place as his tongue worked me over, switching between languid, teasing strokes and quick, precise flicks that made my hips jerk against him.

When he slipped two fingers inside me again, curling them just right as his tongue pressed flat against my clit, I felt myself unravel completely, crying out his name as the pleasure washed over me like a wave.

Sanzu didn’t stop right away. He kept going, coaxing every last tremor out of me before finally pulling back with a self-satisfied smirk, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You taste even better when you cum for me,” he said lowly, his eyes glittering in the dim light.

I sagged weakly against the wall, my legs trembling as he stood, crowding me again with his body.

“And now,” he murmured, his lips brushing my ear as he pressed his hard length against me through his pants, “you’re gonna let me fuck you properly.”

And somehow, I already knew I wouldn’t say no.

Sanzu’s hands moved with purpose now, his fingers dragging down my sides, over my hips, and gripping my bare ass as he pressed his erection harder into me. The heat between us was dizzying, every sharp breath he took fanning across my ear as he whispered low:

“Turn around.”

I didn’t argue. Not anymore. My body was already moving for him before my mind caught up. I turned, my hands bracing against the wall, my chest pressing to the cool surface as I felt him crowd me from behind.

“Good girl,” he murmured darkly, his hands running up my sides before sliding back down, thumbs digging into the soft flesh of my hips.

I heard the faint metallic sound of his belt unbuckling behind me, and my breath hitched. My legs threatened to give out, but his hands held me steady as he pushed his pants low enough to free himself.

When I felt the blunt head of his cock press against my entrance, I gasped, my fingers flexing against the wall. He leaned forward, his lips brushing my ear.

“You ready for me, huh?” he murmured. “So fucking wet already… I could slide right in without even trying.”

And he did. Slowly at first—just the tip, pressing inside me, stretching me enough to make my back arch instinctively. He groaned low, his fingers tightening on my hips as he pushed deeper, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his forehead pressing to the back of my neck for a moment as he stilled. “You’re so fucking tight. Taking me so well.”

I bit my lip, trying to suppress the needy sound that threatened to escape, but the way he filled me—so deep, so thick—made it impossible to stay quiet.

“You feel that?” he muttered, his hips giving an experimental thrust, making me gasp as he bottomed out again. “That’s me… inside you. Right where I belong.”

His pace started slow at first, dragging almost all the way out before snapping his hips forward again, each thrust punctuated by a low groan from his chest and a soft cry from my lips.

“That’s it,” he growled, his hands sliding up my back, tangling in my hair as he pulled my head back slightly. “Don’t hold back. I wanna hear every fucking sound you make for me.”

I couldn’t hold back if I tried. The angle of his thrusts, the rough rhythm building as his hips slapped against mine, sent sparks shooting up my spine with every movement. My hands scrambled against the wall, trying to find some kind of purchase as his pace picked up, harder now, more desperate.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he groaned, his free hand slipping around to my front, fingers circling my clit as he fucked me. “So wet, so tight, just made for me.”

His fingers worked my clit mercilessly as he drove into me faster, the slick sound of him sliding in and out of me mixing with the sharp smack of skin on skin, filling the room with obscene noise.

I cried out as my body tightened again, the pressure building higher and higher until it finally snapped, my walls clenching around him as I came hard on his cock, my knees threatening to buckle.

“Shit—fuck—just like that,” he growled, his thrusts turning erratic as he chased his own release, his fingers still teasing me through the aftershocks of mine.

With one final groan, he buried himself as deep as he could go, spilling inside me with a string of curses muffled into my neck. His hips jerked a few more times as he emptied himself, his breath hot and uneven against my skin.

For a long moment, the only sound was our mingled breaths, heavy and ragged. He stayed pressed against me, his hands smoothing over my sides almost lazily now as his body relaxed against mine.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to press a soft kiss to the back of my neck, murmuring low against my skin.

“You’re mine now,” he said simply, possessively, his voice still rough from exertion. “Don’t even think about trying to fight it.”

And as much as I hated to admit it… a shiver of something dark and warm spread through me at his words.

Because deep down… I already knew he was right.

Sanzu didn’t pull away—not completely. He stayed pressed against me for a moment longer, catching his breath, his hand still lazily smoothing over my hip as if staking his claim on every inch of me.

But even as I felt my legs quivering, my body overstimulated and heavy with aftershocks, something about the way he stayed so close made my stomach twist.

Because he wasn’t finished.

He straightened slowly, finally pulling out with a wet, slick sound that made me gasp softly at the sudden emptiness. I instinctively squeezed my thighs together, trying to ground myself, but he caught my chin in his fingers and turned my head just enough to see his wicked grin.

“You didn’t really think I was done with you yet, did you?” His voice was low, almost playful—but the way his cock twitched against my lower back as he lined himself up again was anything but.

I opened my mouth to protest, but his lips crashed into mine before the words could form. The kiss was rougher this time, hungry, his teeth scraping my lip as his hands roamed over my bare body like he owned it.

One hand slid down between my thighs again, parting them despite the weak attempt I made to press them together. “Still wet for me,” he murmured against my mouth, his fingers stroking through the slick mess he’d already made of me. “Good girl.”

Without warning, he spun me around, pushing me back against the wall so I was facing him now. He didn’t even bother removing the rest of his clothes, his jacket hanging open, his belt loose, his pants still low enough to free him.

“Hold onto me,” he ordered, gripping the back of my thigh and hoisting my leg up to hook over his hip.

I obeyed without thinking, my hands gripping his shoulders as he pressed forward again, sliding back into me with a low groan that sent shivers through my entire body.

This time was different.

This time was rough.

He set a brutal pace from the start, his hips snapping into me so hard my back thudded against the wall with every thrust. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed in the small room, and I couldn’t bite back the moan that tore from my throat.

“That’s it,” he growled, his hand gripping my ass hard enough to leave marks. “You take it so well for me. Look at you… you were made for this. Made for me.”

I whimpered, my nails digging into his shoulders as he slammed into me over and over, his breath hot and ragged against my cheek. Every thrust hit deep, the angle just right to have stars dancing in my vision and my body already tightening again.

“You feel me?” he muttered, his free hand sliding between us to circle my clit again mercilessly. “You feel how deep I am? No one’s ever fucked you like this, huh?”

I could only shake my head weakly, my breath coming in desperate gasps.

“That’s right,” he snarled, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust. “Only me. No one else gets to touch you like this. You’re mine.”

The way he said it—possessive, raw, like he believed it to his core—sent a jolt of heat straight through me.

My back arched, my hips moving to meet his thrusts now despite the burn of overstimulation building inside me. His thumb pressed harder on my clit, and the coil in my stomach snapped again, my body convulsing around him as I cried out his name.

Sanzu didn’t slow.

Even as my walls fluttered and clenched around him, even as my body trembled with the force of another orgasm, he kept going—his own groans growing louder, more desperate as his pace grew erratic.

“Gonna fill you up again,” he gasped, his lips crashing into mine as his hips stuttered one final time. He buried himself as deep as he could go, groaning into my mouth as he came hard, the warmth of him spilling inside me again.

But he still didn’t let go.

Even as his breath evened out, even as his cock twitched inside me and his hands finally loosened their bruising grip, he stayed close, his forehead resting against mine.

“You’re not leaving,” he murmured softly now, though there was still that dangerous edge to his tone. “Don’t even think about walking away from me, Y/N. I’m not done with you. Not even close.”

And somehow… the worst part was realizing that a part of me didn’t want him to be.

[bronbrons]

Sanzu x reader Part 2

Warnings: Mature Content | - Explicit Sexual Content. Strong Language | - Dark Themes. Manipulation/Tension in Relationships | - Possessiveness. Consent Issues | - Angst. Physical Touch/Intimacy | - Sexual Tension. Emotional Conflict | - Slow Burn.

The silence in the room was suffocating. My heart was still racing, but I couldn’t get my thoughts straight. The revelation hit me like a gut punch, and I wasn’t sure how to process it.

Sanzu, Sanzu—the guy who had been playing games with me, pushing me to my limits, messing with my head—was one of the top brass in Bonten. He was someone I had been working with without even knowing it. And now I had to reckon with that fact, with all the lies I’d told myself about him, about this whole damn situation.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to look anywhere but at him, but the more I avoided his gaze, the more I felt his presence closing in. I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” I finally muttered, breaking the silence, my voice sounding smaller than I intended. “About… us. Whatever this is.”

Sanzu didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was measuring my every word, every gesture. It felt like he was seeing straight through me, dissecting every part of me I was trying to hide.

"Serious?" he echoed, his voice almost playful. "I think you’re the one who’s serious, Y/N." He paused, his gaze softening for a moment, just enough for me to see the flicker of something beneath the surface. "I don’t do things halfway. Never have. So, yeah… I’m serious."

I swallowed hard, trying to keep the emotions in check. “Why didn’t you just tell me who you were? Why make everything so complicated?” The words were out before I could stop them. I hated the vulnerability that came with asking them.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate. "It wasn’t the right time. You wouldn’t have looked at me the same way, Y/N. And I wasn’t about to make you think I was just another piece on the board. You don’t deserve to be just a pawn."

His words threw me off guard. Part of me expected him to play the game even harder, to twist the knife a little further. But instead, he spoke like he actually cared about how I saw him—like it mattered to him.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The weight of his words sat heavily in the space between us, and I couldn’t seem to shake it. The truth was, I didn’t know what to make of him anymore. He was part of a world I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in, but at the same time, I couldn’t deny that he was the one pulling me deeper into it.

I finally broke the silence, my voice more controlled this time, but the underlying doubt was clear. “So, what does this mean for me? For us?”

He tilted his head slightly, looking at me with that same inscrutable expression. “It means you’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not. And if you think you can run away from this, I’ll be right behind you."

I felt a chill at his words, but not one of fear—one of realization. He was right. I couldn’t run from this. I couldn’t run from him. Not anymore.

I stood up abruptly, walking away from the table, trying to put some distance between us. I needed space to think, to breathe, but the moment I moved, I felt his presence at my back, almost like a shadow that never left.

"Y/N..." Sanzu’s voice was low and careful, like he was testing me.

I turned slowly to face him, my mind swirling in confusion and anger. "What do you want from me, Sanzu?" I demanded, the words coming out more harshly than I meant.

His gaze softened, but only just. He took a step toward me, his eyes never leaving mine. "I want you to stop pretending that this isn’t real. Stop pretending that you don’t feel it, too."

I shook my head, fighting against the pull of his words, against the way my heart was thundering in my chest. "I don’t know what you're talking about," I said, but even as I said it, I knew I was lying. I felt it. I felt everything.

Sanzu’s smile was small, almost sad. “Yes, you do.”

I couldn’t stay in that room anymore. I turned away from him, my hands trembling at my sides. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how entangled we were, how impossible it was to untangle myself from him.

But that didn’t mean I had to admit it. Not yet.

The next few days were a blur. I kept my head down, focused on my work, trying to block out the nagging voice in my head that kept reminding me of Sanzu. But every time I walked through the halls of Bonten's headquarters, every time I caught a glimpse of him—his sharp, calculating gaze, his cocky smile—I was reminded that I couldn’t escape this.

That I didn’t want to escape it.

I knew what kind of man Sanzu was. He was dangerous, reckless, unpredictable. But damn it, there was something about him that made me want to keep falling. Something that made me want to test the limits, to see just how deep this went.

The next time we crossed paths, it wasn’t a simple exchange of words or a flirtatious taunt. It was a confrontation.

I was in the middle of a mission briefing when he walked into the room, his presence commanding attention. The moment he stepped in, I could feel the weight of his gaze on me. I tried to ignore it, but it was impossible.

Sanzu moved toward the table, sitting down across from me, his eyes not leaving mine for a second.

"You look distracted," he remarked, leaning back in his chair, his tone casual. "Something on your mind, Y/N?"

I didn’t respond immediately. The room was full of people, but it felt like it was just the two of us. "Just a lot going on," I replied, forcing myself to focus on the mission details in front of me. "Don’t worry about it."

Sanzu didn’t buy it. His eyes darkened, a flicker of something more dangerous behind them. "It’s not the mission, is it?" he said softly, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "It’s me, isn’t it?"

My breath caught in my throat, and for the first time, I felt exposed in a way I wasn’t prepared for. "You need to stop," I said, my voice steady despite the rush of emotions that threatened to bubble over.

He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "No, Y/N. You need to stop pretending you don’t care. You need to stop pretending you don’t want this."

I felt my chest tighten, my heart pounding in my ears. I didn’t know what to say. How could I explain to him—or to myself—that I didn’t want this but at the same time, couldn’t stop myself from wanting him?

“I’m not your game, Sanzu,” I said, my voice coming out quieter than I intended. “And I’m not going to play by your rules.”

He looked at me for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, he said something that cut deeper than anything he’d said before. “Then stop pretending I’m not already inside your head, Y/N. Stop pretending you’re not already playing.”

And with that, he stood up and walked out of the room, leaving me standing there, more confused, more conflicted than I’d ever been.

The days following that conversation were torturous. Every time I tried to focus on something—anything—Sanzu’s words echoed in my mind. His voice, the way he said it so damn casually, like he knew the effect it would have on me. Like he knew I couldn’t deny it anymore.

It felt like he had gotten inside my head, turning every thought, every decision, into a game I wasn’t sure I wanted to play anymore. But he wasn’t going to let me walk away. Not when he knew exactly what kind of hold he had on me.

I was back in Bonten’s headquarters, trying to focus on paperwork when I heard the sound of boots echoing down the hallway. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. I didn’t need to see him to know his presence was unavoidable, like gravity pulling me toward him.

And sure enough, when I looked up, there he was. Sanzu stood in the doorway, his usual smirk on his face as he surveyed the room, his dark eyes locking onto mine. The usual cockiness was there, but there was something else in his posture now. Something heavier. A quiet certainty that I couldn’t ignore.

I sighed, rolling my eyes, trying to keep my frustration in check. “What do you want, Sanzu?”

He stepped inside, not even bothering to close the door behind him, like he owned the place. He walked up to my desk and leaned against it, arms folded over his chest. His eyes never left mine, watching me with an intensity that made my pulse race.

"I want you to stop pretending like you’re unaffected," he said, his voice low and serious now, the usual teasing edge gone. "Stop pretending like I’m not getting to you."

I shot him a glare, trying to keep my composure. "I don’t know what you're talking about."

He chuckled, but it wasn’t light or amused. It was dark, almost resigned. "You’re lying, Y/N. And it’s starting to get old."

I looked away, my fingers tapping nervously against the desk. It was hard to fight this. Hard to fight him. It felt like every time I thought I had a handle on this, he would just come right back, pushing me further into a corner I didn’t want to be in.

"You can’t keep doing this, Sanzu," I said, my voice quieter now, trying to steady myself. "You can’t keep playing these games. I’m not some... toy you can just mess with whenever you feel like it."

Sanzu’s expression softened, just a little, but there was still that predatory gleam in his eyes. "Who says I’m playing games?" he asked, his voice low, almost sincere. "I’m not playing with you, Y/N. I’m being real. And you know it."

I stared at him, feeling the words tug at my chest. "What do you want from me?" The question felt heavy, like I was already giving up more than I should. "What’s the point of this?"

He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing as he closed the distance between us. I could feel his presence filling the space, and I hated how my body reacted to it. How unavoidably drawn to him I was.

"I want you to stop fighting it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper now. "I want you to admit that you want this. That you want me."

My heart skipped a beat. No matter how many times he said it, no matter how much I wanted to deny it, I couldn’t. I couldn’t deny the way I felt whenever he was near. The way my pulse quickened when he spoke to me like that.

But I wasn’t ready to admit it. Not yet.

I stepped back, trying to regain some distance, but Sanzu didn’t let me. He reached out, his hand brushing lightly against my arm. The touch was soft, almost tentative, but it sent a shock through me, making it impossible to ignore him.

"You’re scared," he said, almost gently, his fingers tracing the skin of my arm. "I can see it in your eyes. You don’t want to admit that you’re already in this."

I flinched, pulling my arm away, trying to keep some distance between us. "You don’t know what you’re talking about."

Sanzu’s eyes flickered, something darker passing through them for a moment, but his smirk never left. "I know exactly what I’m talking about, Y/N. I’ve been doing this long enough to see when someone’s already caught up. And trust me... you’re already tangled in my web."

The words hit harder than I expected, like a punch to the gut. He wasn’t wrong. I was tangled. I was caught up in him, in the chaos of everything that surrounded him. I had been from the moment I met him.

But I wasn’t ready to admit it to him. I wasn’t ready to let him win.

I stood up from my desk, my hands trembling slightly. "You need to leave. I have work to do."

Sanzu didn’t move at first. He just watched me, his gaze dark and intense, like he was waiting for something from me. For me to crack, for me to break.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. "I’ll let you have your space... for now."

And just like that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving me standing there, my heart pounding in my chest, my head spinning.

The next few days were torture. Every time I thought I could focus on my work, his words would creep back into my mind. "You’re already tangled in my web."

And the worst part? I couldn’t stop thinking about how right he was.

It was late again when I found myself walking down the dark hallway of Bonten’s headquarters, my mind too occupied to care about the silence around me. I was heading toward my office, trying to block everything out, when I heard it again. His voice.

“Can’t get enough of me, huh?”

I froze in my tracks, a chill running down my spine as I turned toward the sound of his voice. Sanzu stood at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall with that same damned grin plastered on his face.

“What do you want now, Sanzu?” I said, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. But deep down, I knew what he wanted.

“You’re avoiding me,” he said, pushing himself off the wall and walking toward me with that same slow, predatory pace. “But we both know you can’t stay away.”

I crossed my arms, trying to shield myself from the heat that was rising in my chest. “I’m not avoiding you.”

Sanzu stopped just inches from me, his eyes locking onto mine with that familiar intensity. “Then why are you here? Why aren’t you pushing me away?”

I bit my lip, trying to hold my ground, but everything about the way he was looking at me made my resolve crumble just a little more. “Because I’m not ready to deal with you.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reached out, his fingers grazing my cheek lightly, the touch so soft it almost didn’t feel real. My breath caught in my throat as his hand moved to the back of my neck, pulling me just a little closer.

“Then let me help you with that,” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear.

The room felt heavy with tension as Sanzu’s fingers lingered at the back of my neck, the warmth of his touch sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. Every inch of me screamed to pull away, to distance myself, but I stayed rooted to the spot, my heart racing as his presence seemed to engulf me.

“Y/N…” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, sending a wave of heat flooding my chest. “Why do you keep fighting this?”

I tried to take a step back, to break free from the intimacy of the moment, but his grip tightened just slightly, keeping me exactly where I was.

“Stop it,” I said, the words coming out harsher than I intended, but I couldn’t help it. He was pushing every limit I’d set for myself, and I was so close to breaking.

Sanzu didn’t flinch at my words. He didn’t back off, either. Instead, he took a slow step closer, his face just inches from mine. The space between us felt too small, too dangerous. It felt like he could reach out and break me with a single touch if he wanted to.

“I told you,” he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was coaxing something out of me. “You don’t have to fight it anymore.”

I swallowed hard, the air around us thick with the weight of everything unsaid. “I’m not fighting anything,” I spat, the bitterness of the words lingering in the air. “I’m just trying to make sense of all this.”

The truth was, I didn’t know what this was. I didn’t know what kind of hold he had over me, and the more I tried to ignore it, the harder it was to deny. I was constantly on edge when he was around, my body betraying me every time he got close. He made my heart race, but he also made my blood boil. It was a constant push and pull that had me questioning every part of myself.

“You think I’m the problem, don’t you?” Sanzu’s voice cut through my thoughts, a flicker of something darker flashing in his eyes. “You think I’m the one making all the moves, but you’re just as tangled in this as I am. I’m not the only one keeping you on edge.”

I wanted to lash out, to tell him to go to hell, but I couldn’t. He was right. I had been just as drawn to him as he was to me. It wasn’t just the way he looked at me, or the things he said. It was the way he made everything seem complicated. He made me question my own boundaries. He made me question everything I thought I knew about myself.

“You’re not the only one making things complicated,” I said, my voice quieter now. “I don’t need you in my head.”

Sanzu’s eyes darkened, his hand slipping down to my wrist, the coolness of his fingers sending a shock through me. “Too late for that. You’ve been in my head from the moment we met.”

I yanked my arm out of his grip, my breathing quickening with the frustration I was trying to hold back. I could feel the rage building, but I didn’t know where to direct it. “Stop saying that like it’s some fate or something,” I snapped, my voice sharp and cutting through the air. “I’m not some piece you can just control or manipulate, Sanzu.”

His lips curled into a sly grin, but there was a bitter edge to it now, a darkness I hadn’t seen before. “You think you’re in control. You think you’re the one calling the shots. But you’re not. You’re just as much a pawn in this as I am.”

The words stung more than they should have. I turned away, fighting to steady my breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. I hated how much his words seemed to reach the parts of me I wasn’t ready to confront.

“I’m not your pawn,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Sanzu didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stepped forward, closing the gap between us, his breath warm against my neck. “You already are,” he said softly, but the weight of his words hit harder than anything else he’d said.

Before I could respond, he stepped back, giving me space to breathe. But even then, I could feel him watching me, his gaze following every move I made.

Days passed. I threw myself back into my work, trying to bury everything that had happened. But Sanzu’s presence lingered in the back of my mind, like a constant reminder that I wasn’t in control of anything—not of him, not of myself.

It wasn’t long before we crossed paths again. This time, I was in a briefing room, the low murmur of voices filling the space. I glanced up, only to find Sanzu standing at the door, his eyes already locked on mine.

I didn’t even know why I was surprised anymore. He always found a way to appear when I least expected it.

“You never give up, do you?” I muttered under my breath, turning my attention back to the papers in front of me.

Sanzu didn’t answer immediately. He walked into the room, his presence a palpable force. The others in the room fell silent, clearly aware of who he was. But it didn’t matter. My focus remained on the task at hand—at least, that’s what I told myself.

He made his way to my side, standing so close that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. My skin prickled at the proximity, but I refused to acknowledge it.

"How’s the paperwork going?" Sanzu asked, his voice so casual, but with an underlying tension that only I could feel.

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my temper in check. "It’s fine," I said, my tone clipped. "I’m handling it."

He didn’t back off. "You always say that," he said, his voice low. "But I can see how much it’s eating at you."

I looked at him, forcing myself not to react. "You don’t know anything about me," I said, my voice harsh.

He didn’t flinch. Instead, he leaned in just a little closer, close enough that his breath brushed against my ear. "I know you better than you think, Y/N."

The words hit harder than they should have. I felt my heart race as his presence surrounded me, threatening to drown out everything else. But I didn’t want to fall into that trap. I didn’t want to let him in any more than I already had.

I pushed my chair back, standing up abruptly. "I don’t have time for this," I said, turning to walk away.

Sanzu’s voice stopped me in my tracks. "You never have time for anything, do you?" he called out, his tone not mocking, but frustrated, like he was tired of playing games.

I felt a sharp pang of irritation, mixed with something deeper. Something that made it hard to breathe. "Maybe it’s because you’re the last person I want to deal with right now."

Sanzu’s gaze was dark, almost challenging. "Then why do you keep running back to me?"

My heart skipped a beat, and I turned away, fighting to control my emotions. "I’m not running anywhere," I muttered, my voice barely a whisper.

But even as I said it, I knew I was lying.

The fight wasn’t over. I could feel it, the weight of the tension between us growing heavier with every encounter. But there was no way I was going to fall for him—not yet, not while I was still trying to keep myself intact.

Every time I thought I had a grip on my emotions, on this situation, Sanzu would appear, his presence like a magnet that I couldn’t escape. And every time, the pull was stronger.

But I wasn’t ready to admit it yet. I wasn’t ready to face the truth.

Not yet.

The days seemed to stretch on indefinitely as I fought to regain some semblance of control over my life. It wasn’t just the pressure of Bonten’s missions, the constant threat of enemies lurking in the shadows—it was him. Sanzu. That damned smirk, the way he seemed to appear out of nowhere, as if he had a sixth sense for the exact moment I was starting to feel like I had a handle on everything.

It was that damn grin that did it. The way his eyes lit up when he saw me, the way his voice had a sharpness to it when he spoke my name. Every encounter felt like he was pushing me, pulling me in deeper without saying a word. And every time I tried to distance myself, he would always find a way back into my head.

I was walking down one of the narrow hallways of Bonten’s headquarters when I heard the faint sound of footsteps behind me. My instincts kicked in, and I immediately tensed. The air around me seemed to grow heavier, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up as I slowed my pace, waiting for the inevitable.

“Y/N.”

That voice. I didn’t need to look back to know who it was. But I did anyway, my heart pounding in my chest.

Sanzu was leaning against the wall a few feet behind me, arms folded across his chest. His smirk was still there, but this time it felt… different. More patient. Like he was waiting for something.

“What now, Sanzu?” I asked, my voice more tired than I intended. It was clear from the exhaustion in my tone that I wasn’t in the mood for one of his games.

He didn’t answer immediately, just watched me with those dark eyes that seemed to see straight through me. His expression was unreadable, but I could feel the weight of his gaze, the pressure of his presence.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he finally said, his voice light, almost teasing. But I could hear the undertone of something else—something I couldn’t place, something more dangerous.

I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “I’m not avoiding you,” I muttered, my words harsh. “I’m just trying to get some work done.”

He pushed off the wall, taking a step closer to me, but not too close. He knew better than that. For now, at least.

“You know,” he said slowly, his voice dropping a little, as though he were choosing his words carefully. “I don’t like being ignored.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the way my pulse spiked at his proximity. “You’re not being ignored, Sanzu,” I said, a little too quickly. “You’re just… not my priority right now.”

There was a brief silence between us, but then Sanzu smiled, the kind of smile that sent a shiver down my spine. “Funny,” he said, his tone low and dangerous, “I thought I was always your priority, whether you admit it or not.”

I took a step back, my chest tightening. “Stop with the mind games,” I snapped, trying to shake off the unease his words left behind. “I’m not in the mood for them.”

But Sanzu didn’t back down. Instead, he took another step forward, closing the gap between us. His eyes were still locked onto mine, dark and intense, almost like he was daring me to move away.

“You say that now,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “But we both know you’re lying.”

I stood my ground, refusing to let him see how much his words were affecting me. But deep down, I couldn’t deny it. He was right. It was like he had me figured out, and no matter how hard I tried to fight it, I couldn’t stop myself from getting tangled in his web.

“I’m not lying,” I said, my voice steady, though it felt like a lie. “I’m just trying to focus on something that actually matters.”

Sanzu’s smile faltered for just a moment, and I noticed a flicker of something darker in his eyes. “Everything I do matters, Y/N,” he said, his tone hardening. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

His words hit like a punch to the gut. I knew what he was getting at, knew that this wasn’t just about the work, about the missions. This was something else—something much more complicated. He was challenging me, testing how far he could push before I broke.

“I never asked for this,” I muttered under my breath, too quietly for him to hear, but the bitterness of it hung in the air.

But he heard it anyway.

“You didn’t have to,” he said softly, his voice almost gentle. “But here we are. And you will admit it eventually. You’re already halfway there.”

The weight of his words settled in the pit of my stomach, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was right. Somehow, I was already caught up in whatever this was between us, and no matter how much I tried to resist, I was falling deeper.

Before I could say anything else, the sharp sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, cutting through the moment. Sanzu stepped back slightly, his gaze flicking over my shoulder to the approaching figure.

"Don’t think this is over," he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I’ll be waiting."

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing around the corner with that same cocky smirk on his face.

The next few days passed in a blur, each encounter with Sanzu leaving me more and more tangled in my own thoughts. Every time I saw him, I couldn’t help but feel that familiar rush of anger and desire, two forces warring inside me. He wasn’t just getting under my skin; he was digging in, rooting himself deeper and deeper into my mind. And I hated myself for letting him.

But I couldn’t stop.

Another mission. Another day spent trying to focus on the task at hand, only to have Sanzu appear, as if he was everywhere I went. This time, I was in the middle of the war room, reviewing intel with some of the other members, trying to keep my head in the game. But the second I lifted my eyes, I saw him standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame.

“Do you ever take a break?” I asked, trying to sound uninterested, but my voice betrayed me. I could feel the irritation bubbling up, but also that odd pull, the one I couldn’t ignore no matter how hard I tried.

Sanzu raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to the others in the room before he turned his attention back to me. “Why take a break when I have you all to myself?”

I clenched my jaw, trying to ignore the heat that rushed to my face. “What do you want now?”

He smirked, pushing himself off the doorway and striding across the room toward me. The others in the room took the hint and quickly scattered, leaving the two of us alone in the now-empty space.

“I want you to stop pretending like you don’t want to be around me,” Sanzu said, his voice low, almost hypnotic. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N.”

“I don’t need you in my life, Sanzu,” I said quickly, the words coming out almost too fast. “I’m here to do my job. Nothing more.”

He stopped just in front of me, his gaze never leaving mine. “You’re lying again,” he said softly, but his words carried the weight of a truth I wasn’t ready to face.

I swallowed hard, my fingers gripping the edge of the table. "I’m not lying," I muttered, though the words tasted bitter on my tongue.

Sanzu didn’t say anything else. He just stood there, close enough that I could feel his presence, his warmth seeping into my skin. He was waiting, just like always, for me to crack.

And I almost did.

The push and pull between us continued. Every time I thought I had a grip on my emotions, he was there, challenging me, making me question my resolve. It wasn’t just frustration anymore; it was something else. Something that made my chest tighten, something that made my heart race every time I saw him.

But I wasn’t ready to give in. Not yet.

I was starting to realize that this wasn’t just about him and me. It was about everything we were tangled in—Bonten, the violence, the power struggles. The fact that I didn’t want to admit just how much Sanzu had become a part of my life.

The hours stretched into days. The cycle of tension between me and Sanzu never seemed to end. Each time I thought I could focus on something else, on the mission, on anything, he was there. It wasn’t just a fleeting thought that crossed my mind anymore. It was him.

The subtle pressure of his gaze when he was nearby. The quiet, mocking tone he always used when he spoke to me. The damn smirk that seemed to stay permanently etched on his face. It wasn’t just annoying; it was disorienting. Every time I saw him, something inside me twisted in a way I didn’t want to acknowledge.

I was trapped in a game of my own making, but the more I pushed him away, the more he dug in, inching closer and closer to breaking through the walls I’d built up.

It happened again. Another night, another mission. We were at a safe house, a rundown apartment in the middle of the city. The atmosphere was heavy, tense with the anticipation of the job. The others were preparing, going over their gear, making sure everything was in place. But my mind wasn’t on the mission. It was on him.

Sanzu had been unusually quiet that day, hanging back, waiting for the right moment to slide into the scene. I should’ve been grateful for the space, but instead, I felt a strange unease hanging in the air. It was almost as if he were watching me, silently waiting for the moment I’d slip up, for the moment he could get to me again.

I glanced over at him, sitting in the corner of the room, his legs casually stretched out in front of him, one arm resting on the back of the couch. His eyes were trained on me, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. It was like he knew I could feel the weight of his stare without him having to speak.

I hated it. But I couldn’t look away.

“Do you need something?” I finally asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

Sanzu chuckled, a low, almost mocking sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “You’re so tense, Y/N. You know, it’s hard to focus when you’re so... wound up.”

I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing myself to look back at the group. “I’m fine. Just trying to stay focused,” I said, my voice tight with frustration.

He didn’t seem to care that I was trying to brush him off. In fact, it seemed to amuse him. He stood up slowly, sauntering over to me with that same predatory grace he always had.

“Stay focused?” he repeated, his voice low. “I think you’re doing more than just staying focused. You’re avoiding me. Trying to pretend you’re not already in this.”

I turned toward him, my teeth gritted, my chest rising and falling with the rush of anger that was bubbling up inside me. “I’m not avoiding you,” I snapped. “I’m trying to get through this job. Nothing more.”

Sanzu’s eyes darkened, his smirk fading slightly as he closed the distance between us. The air felt charged now, like the space between us had become too small, too heavy. He stopped just a few inches from me, and for the briefest moment, I thought I might actually shove him away.

“Then why are you so damn on edge?” His voice was barely a whisper, but it felt like a challenge, like he was daring me to lose control. “You can’t pretend this isn’t getting to you. I know it is.”

My hands were shaking now, but I didn’t let him see it. I wasn’t going to show him how much his presence rattled me.

“I’m fine,” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper, but it was no use. He saw right through it.

“You’re lying again,” he said softly, almost affectionately, as if it were a game he enjoyed. “You’re always lying to me. And I can’t decide if I’m amused or annoyed by it.”

I inhaled sharply, trying to get a grip on my emotions. “I’m not lying to you,” I said, my voice low and firm, though I was starting to feel the strain of keeping it all together.

Sanzu studied me for a long moment, his gaze piercing, as if he was trying to read me like a book. He didn’t speak for what felt like an eternity, but the silence between us was suffocating. Then, with a soft exhale, he shrugged.

“Fine. Keep pretending. But we both know I’m the only one who’s being real here,” he said, his tone quiet, yet somehow carrying the weight of everything he was trying to say.

I hated how right he was. But I wasn’t ready to admit it. Not yet.

The night dragged on, the mission successfully completed, but the tension between us remained, like a slow burn that wouldn’t go out. I couldn’t escape it. Sanzu was always there, always watching, always testing me.

The next day, I found myself walking down the halls of Bonten’s headquarters, trying to avoid eye contact with him. I didn’t want to deal with him today, didn’t want to confront the fact that I was already so tangled up in whatever twisted game he was playing.

But as fate would have it, I turned the corner and almost collided with him.

Sanzu caught my arm before I could stumble, his grip firm, though not unkind.

“You’re avoiding me again,” he remarked, his voice laced with amusement.

I yanked my arm out of his grip, my heart racing as I glared at him. “I’m not avoiding you,” I spat, though the anger in my voice didn’t mask the underlying frustration I was feeling.

He took a step closer, his gaze locking onto mine. “Then why are you acting like you’re about to run away?”

“I’m not running away,” I muttered, my chest tightening with irritation. “I just don’t have time for your games today.”

Sanzu’s lips curled into a sly grin. “You think this is a game?” he asked, his voice darkening. “It’s not. It’s you and me, Y/N. It’s always been you and me.”

I recoiled, taken aback by the intensity of his words. “Stop it,” I said, my voice trembling with a mixture of frustration and something else I couldn’t quite place.

Sanzu didn’t move back. Instead, he leaned in slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked me over, as if studying my every reaction.

“Why are you so scared?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. “What’s so terrifying about admitting that you want this? Want me.”

I could feel my breath catch in my throat, my heart pounding so loudly that it drowned out everything else. I wasn’t scared of him. I wasn’t scared of this. But I couldn’t admit it. I couldn’t admit that the way he made me feel was more than just irritation. More than just annoyance.

“I don’t want this,” I said through gritted teeth, but even as I said it, I knew I was lying.

Sanzu’s gaze softened for a moment, his lips curling into a smirk. “Lying again,” he murmured, almost to himself, but I could hear the dark amusement in his tone.

I turned to walk away, but he grabbed my wrist again, his fingers tight around my skin, the pressure firm but not painful.

“Don’t walk away,” he said, his voice thick with something I couldn’t name. “Not this time.”

I tugged against his grip, trying to pull free, but I wasn’t strong enough.

“I told you to let go,” I hissed, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Stop doing this.”

Sanzu didn’t let go. Instead, he stepped closer, his face only inches from mine, his breath warm against my skin. “What do you think this is, Y/N? What do you think you’re feeling right now?”

I froze, every muscle in my body locking up. He was too close, too damn close. And despite myself, I felt the wall I’d built around myself start to crack.

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice shaking, not from fear, but from something else. Something I didn’t understand. “I don’t know what this is, but I’m not ready to give in.”

Sanzu’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "You already have, Y/N. You’ve been giving in from the moment you met me."

The words hung in the air between us, heavier than anything else he’d ever said. And for the first time, I realized that maybe... maybe he was right.

The words Sanzu said kept echoing in my mind, lingering long after he’d let me go. I tried to shove them out, tried to focus on the mission, on the people around me, but his presence was everywhere. It wasn’t just his looks, or the way he casually walked around like he owned the place. It was the way he made everything feel like a test. He was constantly pulling at the threads of my patience, seeing just how far he could go before I finally snapped.

But I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. I couldn’t.

The following day was no different. The headquarters was alive with movement, the usual hum of business. But my focus was shattered. I kept finding myself looking over my shoulder, waiting for Sanzu to appear from nowhere, like he always did. The way his eyes followed me across the room, the way his smile never faltered, like he knew exactly how much he was getting to me.

And sure enough, when I found a quiet moment to myself in the break room, he was there, leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, as if he had been waiting for me.

“Are you stalking me now?” I asked, my voice sharp, trying to mask the unease creeping up my spine.

Sanzu didn’t flinch. He didn’t need to. The corner of his mouth quirked upward, his expression lazy and casual as he let out a small chuckle. “Stalking? Nah,” he said, pushing off the counter and taking a step toward me. “Just… keeping an eye on what’s mine.”

The words hit harder than they should have, like a punch to the gut, even though I knew he wasn’t being serious. Or maybe he was. But the possessiveness in his tone made my stomach twist in a way I didn’t know how to deal with.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, trying to laugh it off, but it came out sounding more like a nervous chuckle than anything else.

Sanzu didn’t answer immediately. He closed the space between us until I could feel the heat of his body against mine, his presence suffocating. His eyes never left mine, dark and unreadable.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice low and almost soothing. “I’ve been playing this game with you, Y/N, but you’re the one who’s been making it harder for both of us. You can’t keep pretending like you don’t want this.”

I took a deep breath, fighting to steady myself, but everything about him was breaking down my defenses, one word at a time.

“I’m not playing your game,” I said, forcing the words out. “I’m not interested, Sanzu. I’m here to do my job.”

He stepped even closer, his body now inches from mine. My pulse quickened, but I refused to back down. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he was affecting me. I couldn’t.

“You’re lying again,” he said quietly, almost affectionately, as if it was some kind of inside joke. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to tell him to leave me the hell alone, but the words wouldn’t come. It wasn’t that I couldn’t find the words. It was that every time I tried, I felt like I was betraying myself.

I tried to take a step back, but his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward him. The sharpness of his grip made me freeze, my heart skipping a beat.

“Stop,” I hissed, feeling the tension in my body, the frustration building like a damn ready to burst. “Let go of me.”

But Sanzu didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled me even closer, forcing me to look up at him. His expression was serious now, the playful arrogance replaced with something more intense, something darker.

“You’re angry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his thumb brushing over the skin of my wrist. “But you’re not angry at me. You’re angry at yourself for pretending you don’t care. For pretending you’re not just as tangled up in this as I am.”

My breath hitched. He was right, but I couldn’t admit it. Not to him. Not to anyone.

“I’m not tangled up in anything,” I said, my voice coming out more breathless than I wanted. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sanzu leaned in just a little closer, his breath warm against my ear. “I know exactly what I’m talking about, Y/N,” he whispered. “And you know it, too.”

The words hung in the air, too heavy to ignore, too loaded to dismiss. I was close to breaking, close to giving in. But I couldn’t. Not yet.

I pulled my wrist out of his grasp, taking a step back, trying to regain some control. I wasn’t about to let him see just how much he had gotten to me. Not yet.

“I’m not playing your game,” I repeated, my voice firmer now, but my hands were trembling. “And I’m not going to be some pawn in whatever twisted thing you think this is.”

Sanzu didn’t say anything at first. He just watched me, his eyes dark, calculating, like he was waiting for me to crack.

When he spoke, his voice was softer, almost soothing. “You’re already in this. You’ve been in this since the moment we met. You just don’t want to admit it.”

His words struck harder than any punch could. They cut deep, pulling at something inside me, something I didn’t want to confront. But I wasn’t ready to let him see how right he was.

“I’m not your game, Sanzu,” I said again, but this time, my voice was more strained. “I don’t need you.”

Sanzu stepped back, but there was no relief in the action. He wasn’t leaving me alone. No, he was just giving me space to breathe, to think that I had control, while he slowly suffocated me with his presence.

“You think you don’t need me?” he said, his voice low, almost contemplative. “You can keep telling yourself that all you want. But we both know the truth.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, breathless and confused, my heart hammering in my chest.

The next few days passed in a blur. Every interaction with Sanzu felt like a test, and I could feel myself starting to crack. But I couldn’t let him see it. I couldn’t let anyone see how deeply his words were getting under my skin.

But no matter how hard I tried to push him away, he was always there. Always watching. Always waiting for me to slip.

It wasn’t long before I found myself walking through Bonten’s headquarters again, the familiar tension creeping up my spine. I’d been avoiding Sanzu, staying busy with anything that would keep me away from him. But the second I turned a corner, I found him standing there, waiting for me.

“You’re avoiding me again,” he said, his voice quiet, almost teasing, but there was an edge to it, like he was starting to get frustrated with the back and forth.

“I’m not avoiding you,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed it anymore.

He stepped forward, closing the gap between us. This time, there was no playful teasing in his voice. No cocky smirk. He was serious.

“You keep lying to yourself, Y/N,” he said softly, his hand brushing against my arm in a way that sent a shock of warmth through my skin. “But you can’t lie to me. You’re already caught up in all of this.”

My chest tightened, my breath catching in my throat. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep pretending.

“I’m not caught up in anything,” I said, though it was a lie I was starting to believe less and less.

Sanzu smiled, but this time, there was no humor in it. “You will be,” he said softly, almost like a promise. “You already are.”

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was slipping. Every time I thought I had a grip on my own thoughts, my own emotions, Sanzu appeared, dismantling whatever control I had left. The moments between us grew more charged, more unbearable.

This time, I found myself sitting in one of the dimly lit offices in Bonten's headquarters, going over reports. The buzz of the fluorescent lights above, the faint sound of voices echoing down the hallway, and the rustling of paper was almost enough to keep me distracted. Almost.

The door to the office creaked open, and without looking up, I already knew who it was.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop following me around?” I muttered, my eyes still scanning the report in front of me, pretending that I wasn’t aware of the fact that Sanzu was leaning against the doorframe, watching me.

He didn’t answer right away, just took a few steps into the room. “I don’t need to follow you to know where you’ll be,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “You’re always here, hiding from everything else.”

I didn’t look up, but I could feel his gaze on me, his presence lingering in the air like an oppressive weight. It was like he was always there, always on the edge of my awareness, watching me, studying me, like I was the puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.

“I’m not hiding,” I snapped, my irritation bleeding through despite my best efforts to remain calm. “I’m working.”

“Right,” Sanzu said softly, almost too casually. “You’re working. But tell me, Y/N—what are you really running from?”

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. His words landed with a quiet impact, sinking deep into my chest. I didn’t want to acknowledge the truth behind his question, didn’t want to confront the fact that I didn’t have an answer. I couldn’t let him see how much of an effect he was having on me. But no matter how much I tried to bury it, I could feel it—the pull. The way he was gradually wrapping himself around me.

I kept my gaze fixed on the papers, though my grip on them had become tight enough to crumple them. “Nothing,” I said, my voice steady. Too steady. “I’m not running from anything. I’m just trying to get this done.”

Sanzu took a step closer, and my breath hitched, but I didn’t dare look up. “You’re not fooling me, Y/N,” he said, his voice softer, almost like he was speaking to a child. “But it’s cute that you think you can hide it.”

I wanted to snap at him, to tell him to get lost, but I couldn’t make my mouth move. I was stuck, paralyzed by the weight of his presence. When had it gotten like this? When had he become such a force in my life, one I couldn’t ignore?

“I’m not hiding anything,” I repeated, though even I knew it was a lie.

Sanzu didn’t answer immediately. He stood there for a long moment, staring at me with those dark eyes that seemed to see through every mask I wore. “You know, you’re the one making this harder, Y/N,” he said, breaking the silence. “You could’ve let it be easy, but you keep pushing me away.”

I squeezed my eyes shut for a brief second, trying to block out his words. I wasn’t ready to deal with this. I wasn’t ready to confront whatever this was between us. But he wasn’t letting up. He was pulling me in, little by little, and I was starting to feel the tug.

“Maybe I don’t want it to be easy,” I said, my voice thick with frustration. The words tasted like bitterness on my tongue. “Maybe I don’t want you in my life.”

Sanzu stepped forward, closing the gap between us. His body was now inches from mine, his breath warm against my ear. “It’s already too late for that, Y/N,” he whispered. “You’re already in my life. You don’t get to decide that anymore.”

I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to push him away. The space between us felt too small, too intimate. His presence was suffocating, like he was slowly inching closer to something I wasn’t ready to face.

“I’m not a part of your world,” I said through gritted teeth, the anger surging through me. “I don’t belong in whatever this is, Sanzu.”

He was silent for a long moment, the intensity of his gaze pressing down on me like a physical force. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said finally, his voice so quiet I almost didn’t hear it. “You belong here more than anyone else. You just don’t want to admit it.”

The weight of his words hit me like a punch. I swallowed, trying to steady myself. “I don’t belong with you,” I said, almost pleading with myself more than with him. “I’m not your… whatever this is.”

Sanzu smiled then, but it wasn’t a smile of triumph or amusement. It was something softer, more dangerous. “You already are,” he said, and I could hear the sincerity in his voice, the certainty. “You’ve been here from the start.”

I felt my chest tighten at his words, at the realization that maybe—just maybe—he was right. Maybe I had already crossed a line I couldn’t come back from. But I wasn’t ready to accept that. Not yet.

“I’m not your pawn, Sanzu,” I said, my voice quieter now, though still firm. “I won’t be.”

He didn’t respond to that right away. Instead, he took a step back, giving me some space, but I could still feel the heat of his presence lingering like a heavy fog in the room.

“You’re not a pawn, Y/N,” he said softly. “But you will be, whether you admit it or not.”

His words haunted me as he turned and walked out of the room, leaving me standing there, alone. The silence was deafening, but in the quiet, I couldn’t escape the truth. The way he had gotten under my skin. The way I couldn’t seem to push him out of my head.

Days blurred into one another. I couldn’t escape him, no matter how much I tried. Sanzu was always there—either hovering in the background, in the hallway, or watching me from across the room. I wasn’t ready to admit how much it affected me. I wasn’t ready to admit that a part of me was drawn to him, despite how much I hated the way he made me feel.

One night, after a mission, I was making my way back to my room when I ran into him again. This time, I didn’t even try to ignore him.

“Y/N,” Sanzu’s voice came from the darkened hallway, stopping me in my tracks. “We need to talk.”

I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to hear whatever it was he had to say.

“You don’t need to say anything,” I muttered, trying to walk past him, but he stepped into my path, blocking me.

“You can keep telling yourself that,” he said, his voice quieter now, but firm. “But we both know what’s going on. You can’t keep pretending you don’t feel it.”

I glared at him, but I could feel the panic rising in my chest. “I don’t feel anything,” I snapped.

He stepped closer, his face inches from mine, his eyes dark and unwavering. “You do. And I know you feel it, too. The pull. The tension. You can’t keep running from it, Y/N.”

I felt my heart hammer in my chest, my hands trembling at my sides. “I’m not running from anything,” I whispered, though my voice was barely above a breath. “I just don’t want this.”

Sanzu’s eyes softened for a brief moment, and then he stepped back, just enough to give me some space. But even then, it didn’t feel like enough.

“You’re lying to yourself,” he said quietly, almost sadly. “But I’m not going anywhere. Not until you admit what’s really going on between us.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words died on my lips. He was right. But I wasn’t ready to admit it. Not yet.

The longer this dragged on, the harder it became to ignore what was happening. To ignore him. The more Sanzu pressed, the more he showed me just how real this tension was. He was never far from my mind, and no matter how hard I tried to push it all away, it always seemed to circle back to him.

It was a game. A dangerous one. And I didn’t know how much longer I could keep playing.

The mission was over, the adrenaline from the night’s work still buzzing in my veins. I found myself in the same routine again: heading back to my room in the dimly lit corridors of Bonten’s headquarters. I should’ve been relieved. Another mission down, another day survived. But all I could think about was him—the way Sanzu’s eyes never left me, the way his smirk seemed to follow me everywhere.

I had been avoiding him, as usual, but this time felt different. I could feel it in the air. It was thick with unspoken words, with that damn thing between us that neither of us seemed ready to acknowledge fully.

The hallway was quiet as I walked, my footsteps echoing in the empty space. That’s when I heard it—his voice, low and dark, calling my name from the shadows.

“Y/N,” Sanzu said softly, his voice carrying down the hallway with that unmistakable edge that sent a shiver down my spine.

I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not now. I didn’t want to face him, didn’t want to be dragged back into his orbit again. But when I heard his footsteps echo behind me, closing the distance, I knew he wasn’t letting me go this time.

Without a word, he caught up to me, his hand wrapping around my wrist in an iron grip, pulling me to a stop.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm. “I thought you’d be waiting for me to make a move, Y/N.”

I yanked my wrist out of his grasp, my heart pounding in my chest. “You’re not getting me to play your games, Sanzu,” I bit out, trying to keep my composure as my entire body tensed at the proximity between us.

But Sanzu didn’t let go. Instead, he stepped closer, his chest pressing against mine as he backed me against the wall with a slow, deliberate motion. My breath caught in my throat at the contact, but I refused to show any weakness.

“Tell me I’m wrong, Y/N,” he murmured, his lips hovering just inches from mine. “Tell me you don’t feel the way I do.”

His hand slid to my waist, fingers brushing against the fabric of my clothes, and my heart skipped in my chest. He wasn’t giving me any space to breathe. Every inch of me was aware of him, of how he was invading my space, pushing me closer to the edge. I could feel his warmth, feel the way his body seemed to sink into mine as if he belonged there.

“I’m not playing along,” I forced myself to say, even as my body betrayed me, my breath shaky and uneven.

Sanzu leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “You don’t need to play along, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. “I can see it in your eyes. You want this just as much as I do.”

His words sent a wave of heat coursing through my veins, the way his breath seemed to melt into my skin. I could feel the raw intensity in his voice, and I hated how right he was. Every word he said was like a pulse against my chest, shaking me, breaking me down.

“No,” I gasped, trying to back away, but he pressed harder against me, his body a wall, holding me in place. “I don’t—”

“Stop lying to me,” Sanzu cut me off, his hand slipping down to my thigh, his fingers teasing the edge of my pants. “We both know this is more than a game. You want me. And I can’t let you keep pretending otherwise.”

His lips finally crashed onto mine, silencing any argument I might’ve had. The kiss was rough, hungry, like he was starved for something he knew I was keeping from him. His hands moved quickly, pulling me closer, his body hard against mine as he deepened the kiss. My mind was spinning, every thought disintegrating the more I felt him on top of me, kissing me like he was trying to claim me.

But it wasn’t just a kiss. It was everything. It was his body against mine, his hands gripping me with a possessive hunger that made my heart race, made the heat between my legs grow with an intensity I couldn’t ignore.

Sanzu’s hands slid up under my shirt, his fingertips brushing against my skin, sending a rush of warmth through my body. “Stop fighting it,” he muttered between kisses. “Let go, Y/N. You know you want this.”

The words, the way his voice slipped into my ear, made everything inside me burn hotter, faster. I tried to push him away, but it was useless. My body was betraying me, my hands finding their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

“Please,” I gasped, breaking the kiss to look him in the eye. “I don’t want to do this.”

Sanzu’s lips curled into a smirk, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “You’re not in control here, Y/N. You never were.”

With that, he slid his hand between us, pushing my legs apart with ease, and I felt his hand slip between the fabric of my pants, his fingers brushing against the heat of my core. My breath hitched, my entire body trembling as I felt the pressure of his touch.

“Don’t fight it,” he whispered again, his voice dark and low, his hand moving in slow, deliberate circles. “You don’t need to pretend anymore.”

Every movement was so calculated, so precise, that I could hardly think straight. I gasped as his fingers found their mark, the sensation shooting through me like an electric current, too much to handle, yet not enough. I tried to pull back, but he wouldn’t let me. His free hand gripped my jaw, forcing me to look up at him, and for a moment, all I could see was him—his eyes dark with desire, his smirk so full of satisfaction.

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he growled, his thumb pressing down, sending a jolt of pleasure that made me bite my lip. “And I’m going to prove it.”

The heat between us was unbearable. I could feel the tension, the pull, the undeniable need to give in to him, even as I fought it with every breath. But as his fingers pushed deeper, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to stop him anymore. The more he touched me, the more I needed him, and the lines between right and wrong, between control and surrender, blurred completely.

“I don’t—” I started, but his lips cut me off again, kissing me deeply, taking what he wanted without hesitation. His other hand found its way to my chest, unbuttoning my shirt with rough precision, his lips moving to my neck as he trailed soft bites down the sensitive skin.

His actions were like a slow burn, igniting every part of me that I had tried to suppress. My body reacted before my mind could catch up, and soon, I was just as lost as he was, lost in the pull of his touch, lost in the need to feel more.

I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready for him to be so damn good at this, so damn in control. But it was too late. He had already pulled me under, and I didn’t know if I wanted to fight anymore.

Sanzu’s touch was intense, but it wasn’t just overpowering—it was consuming. I could feel every inch of him, every move he made, and even though a part of me screamed to stop, another part, the part I couldn’t ignore, wanted him to keep going.

As his fingers moved over me, the heat that had been building between us ignited into something undeniable. My breath caught in my throat as he pressed closer, his body aligning perfectly with mine, a sharp contrast to the friction his fingers were causing.

“You’re tense,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. “I can feel it, Y/N. Let go.”

I closed my eyes, trying to regain control, trying to remind myself that this wasn’t part of the plan. But the moment I heard him, his voice, so smooth, so sure, something inside me shifted. The tension that had been winding tighter and tighter inside me slowly started to loosen.

“Why do you fight this?” he asked softly, his lips trailing down to my neck, his breath warm and soft against my skin. “You want this just as much as I do.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, but not from fear. No, it was desire. My pulse quickened, my body leaning into his touch, as if it were craving it.

“I don’t want to—” I started, but the words were lost as his hand slid further down, coaxing a soft gasp from my lips.

Sanzu smirked against my skin, his lips capturing the pulse point just below my ear. “You don’t need to say anything, Y/N. I can feel it. You’re not as strong as you think you are.”

The pressure in my chest wasn’t from panic anymore. It was anticipation, the kind that made my heart beat faster and my body hum with need. I could feel the heat pooling between my legs, the way my body instinctively arched toward him, even though my mind was still trying to fight it.

He noticed. He always noticed. His thumb pressed against me again, and I couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped my lips. It was impossible to hide it. His touch, the way he made me feel—it was too much, and yet it wasn’t enough.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” he said, his voice a soft growl in my ear, sending another wave of warmth through me. “Can’t deny what you want now, can you?”

I clenched my jaw, trying to push the words out, but all I could do was breathe heavily against his chest, my body arching slightly at the pressure he was applying. The friction was maddening, and as his fingers slid a little lower, the tension in my body snapped.

The gasp that escaped my lips this time wasn’t from surprise, but from the pleasure. I felt a jolt of heat, of relief, of something that made me lose track of everything else except the feeling of his hands on me.

He slowed, dragging the moment out, his fingers brushing lightly before he pressed in again. “I want to hear you, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice hushed with a raw edge. “Let go. Let me hear it.”

I didn’t want to, but the soft pressure against my core, the way his body surrounded mine, was pushing me past every boundary I’d tried to maintain. I gasped again, unable to stop myself, my body betraying every resistance I had left.

“You’re making it harder to say no,” I whispered, but even I could hear the edge of frustration in my voice.

Sanzu chuckled, his lips curling into a grin. “I never said you had to say no.”

And with that, he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with mine in a way that made every thought vanish. It was all fire. It was all heat. I couldn’t fight it. I didn’t want to fight it.

His hands slid beneath my clothes again, pressing my body flush against his as if he was marking his territory. There was no force, no aggression—just a deep, burning need that I could feel radiating from him.

“Say you want this, Y/N,” he muttered against my lips. “Say you want me.”

The words hit me like a punch to the chest. My heart hammered in my chest, but my body betrayed my mind once again. I leaned into him, feeling my body relax, wanting the way he made me feel. The tension was too much, too overwhelming.

“I… I want this,” I said, barely above a whisper, and even though it was hard to admit, it felt like a release. I wasn’t just saying the words because I had to. I was saying them because it was true.

Sanzu’s grip tightened on me, his hands moving in ways that made it impossible to think. His lips never left mine as he guided me, leading me through this slow, undeniable wave of pleasure that only seemed to grow with every passing second.

He took his time, pulling me closer, making sure every inch of my skin was covered with his touch. Every soft stroke, every lingering kiss sent shivers down my spine. He didn’t rush me, didn’t force me into anything. He gave me the space to melt into it, to let myself go, to embrace everything he was offering.

The more he touched me, the more I gave in to him. I didn’t feel like I was losing control—no. I was choosing it. The choice wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I could feel every part of me responding to him, to the way he touched me, to the way he made me feel things I hadn’t known I could feel.

I wasn’t just responding to his touch. I was responding to him. To the intensity in his eyes, to the way he made me feel seen, wanted, like I was the only one in the room. And as his hand slid lower, pressing gently against the curve of my hip, I didn’t stop him.

I couldn’t. I didn’t want to.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed, his voice raw and thick with need. “I’m going to make sure you remember this.”

With that, his fingers finally reached the place I had been desperately craving, and the moment they did, I couldn’t hold back. A soft moan escaped my lips, the feeling overwhelming in the best way.

Sanzu moved with precision, his touch more confident now, as if he knew exactly how to make me unravel. The slow rhythm, the way his fingers teased, then pressed in just enough to have me gasping, brought a feeling I couldn’t quite name but didn’t want to fight.

“Let go for me,” Sanzu whispered, his lips grazing my neck, sending sparks through every nerve in my body.

And for the first time, I did. I let go.

[bronbrons]

Sanzu x reader

It was a regular night out—loud music, flashing lights, and people drunk on everything except reality. I wasn’t drinking, not that night. Honestly, I didn’t have the energy for it. But sometimes, you just need a change of scenery, a space where you can let your thoughts drift without the usual noise.

I’d been in the club for maybe an hour, just hanging back by the bar, sipping on whatever the hell I ordered to look busy. I wasn’t looking for anything. I didn’t need a hookup, didn’t want to deal with a guy who’d throw cash at me or pretend he was something he wasn’t.

But he noticed me.

Sanzu.

I didn’t know it at the time, but there was something about the way he moved through the crowd that set him apart from everyone else. He wasn’t a regular—he was the type that belonged behind the scenes. He didn’t talk much, but people seemed to gravitate toward him, even when he wasn’t saying a word. And when he did speak, it was like everything around him quieted down.

I didn’t think much of him at first, just another guy blending into the noise of the night. But then he walked over, leaning against the bar beside me with a casual smirk.

"You’re not drinking." His voice wasn’t loud, but it had an edge to it, like he knew exactly what he was doing. "You sure you're not just here to work?"

I turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. I had to admit, his audacity was impressive. "Excuse me?"

His eyes skimmed over me quickly, sizing me up. “I don’t know, you just look like you’re on the clock. You know, a girl like you wouldn’t be here unless there was something to gain.”

I blinked, not really processing the implication at first. "Are you seriously assuming that about me?"

He shrugged with a lazy grin, like it was no big deal. "I mean, you’re standing at the bar, not talking to anyone. You don’t look like you’re having fun, so I figured... maybe you're waiting for someone to make an offer."

I couldn’t decide whether I was more shocked or irritated. I mean, who the hell did he think he was? "You’re wrong," I said flatly. "I’m not here for that."

But he didn’t back off. Instead, he leaned closer, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. "No offense, sweetheart. But you dohave that look about you."

I snapped, "What look is that? The ‘desperate for a sugar daddy’ look?"

He grinned wider, eyes glinting with amusement, like he was entertained by my attitude. "Hey, no need to get mad. Just making conversation. But if you're not a hooker, then... what exactly are you doing here? People like you usually aren’t so... isolated."

I could feel the weight of his gaze, still sharp, still curious, but there was something almost playful about it. Like he wasn’t just being an asshole—he was actually testing me, pushing me, seeing how I’d react.

I took a deep breath, my irritation fading a little. "I’m just here for a drink, okay? No hidden agenda, no tricks."

Sanzu didn’t say anything for a moment, just studying me with that same knowing smile. Then, like he was satisfied with whatever answer I had given, he backed off slightly, leaning against the counter with a relaxed posture.

"Guess I’ll have to find out more later, huh?" He said, clearly amused by the exchange. "But hey, if you do decide you want a drink, I’ll be around. You know where to find me."

I didn’t reply. I didn’t need to. But as he walked off, I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell that was all about. Who was this guy, and why did I feel like that interaction was far from over?

I didn’t turn around as he walked off, not even when I could feel the eyes of the people around us shift, like they could tell something had just gone down. His words still echoed in my head—you look like you're waiting for someone to make an offer.

I had a few options here: Let it slide or give him a piece of my mind. But I wasn’t about to play his game. Not yet.

I took another sip of my drink, willing myself to relax. The last thing I needed was to get caught up in some guy’s drama. Especially someone like him.

Still, I couldn’t stop myself from stealing glances at him across the room. He was sitting in a booth now, talking to a couple of people, but his gaze was... always wandering. Always landing on me for a second too long before he’d look away.

It was annoying. And for some reason, that only made me more curious.

A few minutes passed, the music thumping in the background, people dancing and laughing, but my attention kept drifting back to Sanzu. His dark, piercing gaze never seemed to stray for long before he caught me looking back at him.

Shit.

I was about to get up and leave, feeling that awkward pull of an unwanted situation, when I heard a voice beside me.

"So, still pretending you're not here for anything?"

I froze, recognizing the familiar, cocky tone immediately. Of course it was him. I didn’t turn, but I could feel his presence looming behind me like some kind of shadow. He wasn’t close enough to touch me, but the air around me was suddenly thick with his energy. It made my skin tingle, and I hated how much I noticed it.

"Couldn’t help but notice you're still at the bar. Are you waiting for someone to show up? Or just taking a break from whatever you’re up to?"

I bit my lip, resisting the urge to snap at him. Instead, I finally turned to face him, looking up at his amused, borderline predatory grin.

"I told you, I’m not here for that. But you seem to be very interested in why I’m here. What’s your deal?"

Sanzu cocked his head, letting out a soft laugh as he sat down on the barstool next to me. "Nah, no deal. I’m just intrigued, that’s all. You don’t look like you’re here to party. And I’m definitely not here to drink my life away. But you? There’s something off about you. It’s like you don’t belong in this crowd, but you're here anyway. That does make me curious."

I raised an eyebrow. He didn’t know shit about me, but that wasn’t going to stop him from running his mouth, was it?

"You’ve got a lot of assumptions for someone who knows nothing about me," I replied, feeling a bit more defensive now. I wasn’t used to people getting this close to me, let alone someone who seemed like they couldn’t keep their damn thoughts to themselves.

Sanzu leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping on the counter, his smirk never fading. "Yeah, I guess I do. But then again, I’ve always had a thing for figuring people out. You’d be surprised how much you can learn just by watching."

Something in his tone made me bristle. It was like he was challenging me—pushing my buttons on purpose. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of getting under my skin.

"I’m not a puzzle to be solved," I shot back, trying to keep my voice steady. "I’m just a person. And frankly, I’m not interested in your curiosity."

For a second, his smirk faltered, and I could see the flicker of something behind his eyes—a brief flash of frustration, maybe even a bit of confusion. It almost seemed like he hadn’t expected me to fight back.

"You’re different," he muttered, more to himself than to me. Then he looked at me again, his expression softening slightly, but still holding that same mischievous edge. "I think I like you."

I wasn’t sure if he was complimenting me or mocking me, but either way, it sent a shiver down my spine.

Before I could say anything, he suddenly pushed himself off the barstool and stood up. His movement was fluid, confident, like he owned the place.

"I’ll see you around, Y/N. Don’t go running off too soon, alright?" He gave me a wink before walking away, disappearing into the crowd.

I sat there for a moment, processing what had just happened. I had been caught off guard, more than I wanted to admit.

This guy was dangerous, I could tell. And yet, something about him made me want to know more.

But I wasn’t about to make it easy for him.

The music in the club seemed louder now, almost deafening in contrast to the quiet bubble of tension that lingered between us. Sanzu’s words kept echoing in my head, like a jarring reminder that this night wasn’t going to go the way I expected.

Don’t go running off too soon, alright?

I stared at the spot where he had just stood, the lingering heat of his presence still in the air. Was it a threat or just his way of saying he wasn’t done with me yet?

It was probably the latter. He had that look in his eyes—the one that told me he didn’t leave things unfinished.

A part of me wanted to get up and walk away, cut my losses, and avoid any more of whatever game he was trying to play. But that same part of me knew that wouldn’t happen. I wasn’t someone who ran from shit like this.

I took a deep breath, adjusting my seat at the bar and finishing the last of my drink, more to distract myself than anything else.

But the moment I set the glass down, I felt it—the sudden weight of someone’s gaze on me again. It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t shy.

It was him.

Sanzu.

I turned my head just enough to catch him leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, watching me with that same grin plastered on his face.

I didn’t react at first. I just continued staring back at him, maintaining my composure. My pulse was quickening, and I hated how easily he was getting under my skin.

He could see me watching him, too. I knew that much. But he didn’t approach right away, letting the tension build between us.

When I finally stood up, my legs feeling a bit unsteady under the weight of his gaze, I walked toward the door. I needed air.

I could feel him following me, and even though I wasn’t looking back, I knew he was still there. The distance between us was closing in, like some kind of unspoken pull.

Just as I reached the exit, I felt his hand brush against the small of my back, a feather-light touch that sent an immediate shiver down my spine.

"You know," he said from behind me, his voice low and dangerous, "You’re making it hard to walk away from this."

I didn’t turn around. Instead, I kept my eyes ahead, my body tense. "I’m not making anything hard," I replied, my voice steady despite the heat building in my chest.

I didn’t want to engage with him again. I really didn’t.

But he wasn’t letting me go that easily.

He fell into step beside me, and I could hear the soft click of his boots against the pavement as we walked out into the cool night air. The club’s lights cast a muted glow on the street as we moved farther from the noise, the atmosphere shifting into something more private.

"You know, you could’ve just told me you weren’t interested," he said, still walking alongside me, his tone casual. But there was something there, something that made me stop and glance at him. It was too nonchalant, like he wasn’t really bothered by my rejection, but I could tell it still left a mark.

"And you could’ve kept your assumptions to yourself," I shot back.

He chuckled. "True. But assumptions are my specialty. Helps me figure people out."

We walked in silence for a few moments, the air between us thickening with every step. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was just waiting for me to make a move—waiting for me to either give him some kind of sign or to just finally snap.

I didn’t give him that satisfaction.

Instead, I stopped, turning to face him fully now. "What is it you want, Sanzu?" I asked, my voice more direct than it had been before. I wasn’t playing games anymore. Not with someone like him.

He stopped walking, too, and his eyes darkened as they flicked from mine to the ground before returning to meet my gaze. For a second, there was no smirk, no cocky attitude. Just quiet intensity.

"I want to know what makes you tick," he said, his voice strangely serious for once. "You’re not like the others. You don’t give me the same... easy answers."

I didn’t know what to say to that. His words caught me off guard, and I found myself struggling to hide the flicker of something that rose inside me—a weird combination of intrigue and frustration.

"I’m just me," I said, trying to sound unaffected. But I knew the moment I said it that it wasn’t true. "And you’re just some guy with a God complex."

He tilted his head, studying me like he was trying to figure out every layer I was hiding behind. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m someone who can appreciate something real when I see it."

The way he looked at me made my heart skip. I hated it, but it was true. There was something real about the way he looked at me, something raw and unfiltered.

"You don’t know anything about me," I said, taking a step back. "And you’re not going to."

Sanzu’s lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile returning. "That’s where you’re wrong."

I frowned, confused. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Before I could process what was happening, he took a step forward, closing the distance between us with an almost eerie precision. His hand brushed against my arm, sending a jolt of warmth through my skin.

"I think I’ve already figured you out more than you know," he murmured, his voice low and almost dangerous. "And I’m not backing off anytime soon."

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My mind was swirling, every instinct telling me to push him away, but something about him... something about this... made me want to stay.

The cool night air seemed to freeze around us, thickening with the weight of his words. Sanzu’s gaze never left mine, his presence so close now I could feel the heat radiating off his skin.

For a moment, neither of us moved, just standing there, caught in this strange, almost magnetic standoff.

"You're not backing off, huh?" I repeated, my voice quiet, barely above a whisper. I couldn’t help it. Something in his stare was pulling me in, despite every instinct I had telling me to step away, to end this before it went any further.

His lips curled up into that damn smirk again, the one that always looked like he knew something you didn’t. "No. I don’t think I am."

I swallowed, looking away briefly, trying to steady my heart, which had picked up its pace without my permission. Why the hell was I feeling like this? Why did his arrogance somehow feel... intoxicating?

"You’re persistent," I muttered, forcing myself to make eye contact again, trying to stay strong in the face of his smoldering stare.

"And you’re stubborn," he shot back, his tone light, playful almost. But there was something beneath it—something darker, more dangerous. "I like that."

I tried not to let the words affect me, but they did. I could feel myself slipping—slipping into something I wasn’t ready for. But before I could think too much about it, Sanzu took a step closer, closing the gap between us until there was barely any space left.

"Tell me something," he said, his voice low and almost velvety. "Why are you here? Not just in this club, I mean. Why are you here with me, right now? You could’ve just left when I made that comment earlier. But you didn’t. You stayed. Why?"

I felt a sharp twinge of annoyance. Who the hell did he think he was, pushing me like that?

"I told you," I snapped, trying to push back, my voice not quite as steady as I wanted it to be. "I’m not interested in whatever you think this is."

Sanzu’s expression softened for a brief second, but it was the kind of softness that was almost more dangerous than his usual cocky grin. "I’m not talking about a thing, Y/N," he said quietly, his voice almost... earnest? "I’m talking about you. And why you’re still here. After everything, why are you still talking to me?"

I was silent for a moment, my mind racing, trying to find the right words, the right response that would put this whole mess to bed. But for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to lie. The truth felt like it was right there, just on the edge of my tongue.

But Sanzu didn’t give me time to answer.

Before I could even think of a response, he reached out, just a touch—his fingers brushing against my cheek, his thumb grazing my skin as though he were trying to memorize the feel of it. The contact was brief, but it was enough to make my breath hitch, enough to send a jolt of heat coursing through me.

I could feel the tension crackling between us, thick and heavy. I wanted to pull away, to stop it before it went any further. But I didn’t. I stood there, frozen, caught in the chaos of this moment that we couldn’t seem to escape.

"You want to walk away?" he murmured, his voice almost a challenge. "Then do it. But I’m telling you, I won’t let you forget this. I won’t let you forget me."

The way he said it was different from how he usually spoke—there was something more genuine there, something raw. But I wasn’t going to fall for it. I wouldn’t.

I took a step back, my body finally moving on its own, but my heart wasn’t in it. I tried to find some space between us, some way to break the tension, but it was too thick. I couldn’t breathe properly with him so close.

"You’re insane," I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief, trying to make sense of everything. "I don’t even know you, and you think you can... what, control me?"

Sanzu tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. There was a flicker of something dangerous in his gaze, but it wasn’t anger. It was something else—something far worse.

"Control you?" he repeated, his voice low. "No. I don’t need to control you, Y/N. I just need you to admit you’re not as immune to me as you think you are."

I blinked, thrown off balance. He was so sure of himself, so goddamn sure of what he could do to me. It made my chest tighten, a mixture of anger and something else—something I didn’t want to acknowledge.

"I’m not playing your game," I said, the words sounding more defensive than I wanted. But I wasn’t sure if I was lying to him or to myself anymore.

Sanzu took another step closer, almost closing the distance entirely. The air was electric now, charged with everything unspoken between us. He reached out, this time brushing his fingers lightly against my jaw, his touch impossibly soft for someone who carried so much chaos within him.

"You’ve been playing my game from the start, Y/N," he whispered, his lips so close I could feel his breath against my skin. "You just don’t know it yet."

And then, without warning, he closed the gap completely, his lips crashing into mine.

It was rough, unexpected, and so damn intense that for a second, I couldn’t breathe. His hands found their way to my waist, pulling me closer as if I might slip away, like there was no way he was letting me go now.

It wasn’t like any kiss I’d ever had. It was demanding, possessive, and damn near chaotic—everything that was him. But as his lips moved against mine, I found myself responding, caught up in the whirlwind of it.

For once, I didn’t want to push him away.

His kiss was nothing like what I expected. It wasn’t gentle or sweet—there was no pretending, no false softness. Sanzu kissed me like it was an assertion, like he was claiming something that wasn’t his, like he was testing me. His hands were rough, almost insistent, pulling me closer with a force that made my head spin.

I should’ve pulled away. Should’ve stopped it right there. But instead, I found myself sinking into it, the sharpness of his lips, the heat of his body, all of it overwhelming me.

I barely registered when his hands moved from my waist to my back, pressing me even closer, the sound of our breathing mingling in the small space between us. I couldn’t pull away—not with his grip on me so tight, not with the way he was swallowing my space.

It felt like he was trying to break me down, piece by piece, and I hated how easy it was to let him. His lips were fierce, his tongue pressing against mine with an intensity I wasn’t prepared for, but I couldn’t stop responding. Every part of me was telling me to fight him, to get the hell away from him, but at the same time, a part of me wanted to see where this could go—wanted to see what would happen if I let this chaos consume me.

When he finally broke away, it was with a soft growl of frustration, his breath hot against my skin. He didn’t let go of me, his hands still holding me like he wasn’t sure I was going to stick around.

"That’s how it is, huh?" he murmured, his voice thick, like he hadn’t expected that from me. "You act like you don’t want this, but you’re already caught up in it."

I swallowed, trying to steady my breath, my pulse racing in my ears. "I don’t... want this," I said, though even I could hear the lie in my own voice. My body was betraying me. Every nerve was on fire, every inch of my skin alive with the memory of his touch.

Sanzu didn’t seem convinced. He just tilted his head, his dark eyes studying me like he could see right through the facade I was putting up.

"Then why are you still here?" he asked softly, his lips curling into a knowing smile. "If you don’t want this... why aren’t you running away?"

His words hit harder than the kiss, striking something deep inside me. The truth was, I didn’t have an answer. My mind was still swirling, still trying to catch up with everything that had happened. I should’ve left, should’ve walked away the moment things started to feel too close, too real. But there I was, standing in front of him, my chest heaving as I tried to keep some semblance of control over myself.

"I’m not running away because..." I trailed off, my voice faltering.

Sanzu’s smirk only deepened, his fingers moving along my arm, teasing the skin lightly, like he was savoring my hesitation. "Because what, Y/N?" His tone was low, almost coaxing, as if he were daring me to admit the truth to him.

"Because you’re too damn persistent," I finally muttered, not even looking him in the eye. The words were out before I could stop them, and once I said them, I couldn’t take them back.

A soft laugh rumbled in Sanzu’s chest, and he leaned in close again, his breath ghosting across my ear. "Persistent, huh?" His lips brushed against my earlobe before moving to the side of my neck, the subtle warmth of his touch making my body betray me even further. "I’m not just persistent, Y/N. I know exactly what I want. And right now, I want you to stop pretending you don’t feel this."

I couldn’t deny it anymore. His presence, his touch, everything about him was overwhelming, and the more he leaned into that, the more I realized I was too far gone to back out now.

With a sharp breath, I turned my head slightly to face him, catching his gaze. I didn’t have an answer for him, not the way he wanted, but I couldn’t look away either. My heart was racing, and I couldn’t control the way my body was responding to him.

Sanzu smiled, his hand coming up to brush against my cheek, tracing my jawline. It was softer this time, almost gentle—but there was still that undertone of danger, that feeling that this was all just a game to him.

"Admit it," he whispered, his voice almost like a caress. "You want this just as much as I do."

I clenched my jaw, my mind a whirlwind of confusion, anger, and—if I was being honest—desire. I wanted to argue, wanted to tell him he was wrong, but the truth was, I couldn’t even find the words.

Instead, I stepped back, forcing myself to pull away from him. The cool night air hit me like a splash of ice water, snapping me out of the haze he’d pulled me into.

"I don’t need your games," I said firmly, my voice finally steady. "And I don’t need you telling me what I want."

Sanzu didn’t stop smiling. If anything, his grin grew wider, more dangerous. "You can try to push me away, Y/N. But you’re already in this, whether you admit it or not."

I didn’t say anything else. I couldn’t.

Instead, I turned and walked away, each step feeling heavier, each breath more difficult than the last.

But I could feel his gaze on me, hot and heavy, even from behind. And I knew, deep down, that this wasn’t over. Far from it.

I didn't look back as I walked away. The sound of my boots against the pavement echoed through the night, each step a sharp reminder of how quickly things were spiraling out of control. It was stupid, really. I had barely known the guy, and already he was making me second-guess every instinct I had.

But I couldn't deny it.

I felt something.

Something I shouldn’t feel for someone like him. I couldn’t make sense of it, so I decided the best thing to do was ignore it, put some distance between us.

That was the plan anyway.

The next few days passed without incident. I didn’t see Sanzu again. I stayed busy with work, keeping my head down, my attention focused on the tasks I had at hand. Bonten wasn’t exactly the type of organization that allowed you to slack off. There was always something to do, some mission to complete, someone to deal with.

But despite all the work, my thoughts kept drifting back to that night.

Sanzu’s smirk. His voice. The way his touch had burned through my skin, leaving a mark that I couldn’t get rid of, no matter how hard I tried.

I hated how much I thought about it.

A week later, I found myself back at the same club. I wasn’t sure why I was there. Maybe I was looking for answers, maybe I just needed to get out of my head for a while. But as soon as I walked in, I knew something was off.

The moment I stepped through the door, my eyes instinctively scanned the room. I wasn’t expecting him, not consciously, but there he was—sitting at the same spot in the corner, his posture relaxed, but those eyes? Those damn eyes were sharp as ever.

He didn’t see me at first, and I took the opportunity to slip into the shadows, grabbing a drink from the bar. I wasn’t here for a repeat of last time. But it felt almost inevitable that I’d run into him again.

I took a sip of my drink, the cool liquid easing the tightness in my throat. But I couldn’t stop myself from stealing glances in his direction. I couldn’t stop feeling drawn to him.

"Back again, huh?"

His voice cut through the noise of the club, low and smooth, just behind me. I turned slowly, meeting that cocky grin I had tried so hard to forget.

Sanzu was standing there, leaning casually against the bar, watching me with that same dangerous amusement in his eyes.

I didn’t know how to respond. Part of me wanted to just walk away, to pretend I hadn’t noticed him. But the other part... the part that was still trying to figure out what the hell this was, that part was curious.

"I could ask you the same thing," I said, trying to sound more nonchalant than I felt.

He smirked, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "I like this place. It’s quiet, no one bothers you much." He eyed me, and I knew he was referencing the last time we spoke. "But you? You came back. Why’s that? Got some unfinished business with me?"

I froze for a moment, trying to keep my composure. Unfinished business? That’s what he thought this was?

I scoffed, looking away to keep from giving him the satisfaction of seeing me flustered. "I’m just here for a drink."

He tilted his head, taking a step closer, his presence forcing me to acknowledge him. "That so?" His voice was lower now, his words slipping under my skin like a well-planned invasion. "You know, I don’t believe you."

I felt my heart rate pick up, but I forced myself to stay calm. "I don’t care what you believe."

He laughed softly, the sound more like a warning than anything else. "You’ve got that fire in you. I like that."

I looked at him, eyes narrowing. "You really think I’m just some puzzle for you to solve, don’t you?"

Sanzu didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped even closer, his body just inches from mine now. "No. I think you’re someone who doesn’t like to admit they want something more than they’re willing to show. And that’s... fascinating."

The distance between us was now non-existent. I could feel the heat of his body radiating against mine, but I refused to back away. I was sick of retreating, sick of giving him space to play his little games.

"Maybe you’re just a little too obsessed with me," I said, though it came out sharper than I intended.

Sanzu didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. In fact, his eyes lit up with that same damn glint, like he enjoyed being challenged. "Maybe," he said, the word almost teasing. "But I think you’re just afraid of admitting it."

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my cool, but damn if he wasn’t getting under my skin again. I turned away, downing the rest of my drink in a single gulp. "I don’t have time for this."

But as I started to walk away, I felt a hand on my arm, stopping me cold. "You always run," he murmured, his voice dropping, softer this time. "But you never really get far."

I shook my head, yanking my arm away, but I couldn’t get the image of his face out of my mind. I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe... just maybe... he was right.

Sanzu didn’t follow me that night, but I could feel his eyes on me as I walked out of the club. I wasn’t sure what I was running from anymore. But I knew one thing for sure: this wasn’t over.

And somehow, deep down, I wasn’t sure I wanted it to be.

The days that followed were like a haze—work, missions, and more work. I’d buried myself in tasks, tried to keep my mind off the chaos that had started to build between me and Sanzu.

But every time I closed my eyes, every time I allowed myself a moment of peace, his face would appear, his smirk flashing in my mind like a warning sign.

And it only got worse when I couldn’t escape it.

It had been a week since I saw him last, but it felt like no time at all. It wasn’t long before I found myself back at the same club again, almost on autopilot. I couldn’t exactly explain why I was here. I knew I wasn’t looking for him. But I also knew he had a way of pulling me in, making me lose sight of everything except him.

I stood at the bar, keeping my distance, trying to act like I wasn’t expecting him. I wasn’t sure if it was my own weakness or the pull of his presence, but I couldn’t help but feel his absence.

A few moments passed before I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Back again?" Sanzu’s voice was low, casual, as though he had no intention of making this an issue. But I felt the underlying weight of his words.

I didn’t turn around. "I’m not here for you."

"Funny," he said, stepping closer, his presence undeniable even without the touch. "Because it sure as hell seems like you’re always here for me."

My pulse spiked in my throat, a flush creeping up my neck as his words hit too close to home. I didn’t want to admit it—not to him, not to myself. But damn it, he was right.

I refused to let him see how much it bothered me. "You’re just imagining things," I said, though the words came out sharper than I intended.

Sanzu didn’t let up. "Am I?" He moved to stand next to me, leaning his body against the bar casually, like he had every right to be here. "Funny how you keep showing up. Funny how you keep looking for me, even when you don’t want to."

I felt a flare of frustration, and I turned to look at him finally. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—those damn eyes—said it all. He was enjoying this. He was enjoying me.

But underneath the confidence, I saw something else. Something darker. Something that made my stomach twist.

"You think this is a game, huh?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly despite myself. "You think you can just toy with me and get away with it?"

Sanzu raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a grin. "I’m not toying with you, Y/N. I’m just trying to figure you out. You’re not like the others. And that... that makes you interesting."

His words should’ve pissed me off. They should’ve made me walk away, but instead, they dug deep, creating a knot in my chest I couldn’t shake. Why was he so sure of me? So damn confident that I wasn’t like the others?

I hated it.

"I’m not some mystery for you to solve," I said, trying to push him away with my words, though the ache in my chest told a different story.

Sanzu didn’t back off. Instead, he took a step closer, his face inches from mine, his breath warm against my skin. His eyes darkened, almost like he was savoring the moment.

"Maybe you are," he murmured, his voice dropping to something dangerously soft. "Maybe you don’t want to admit it, but you are a puzzle. And the more I get to know you, the more I want to figure you out."

I could feel my breath catch in my throat. His words sent a shiver down my spine, mixing with a strange ache I couldn’t name.

For a moment, neither of us moved, the tension between us thick and unbearable. I was fighting it—fighting the connection I could feel sparking between us. The longer I stood there, the more I realized how hard it was to ignore.

I wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He wasn’t supposed to affect me like this.

But he did.

It wasn’t long before Sanzu and I began to fall into a pattern—these encounters that grew more frequent with each passing day. Every time I tried to keep my distance, he was there, pulling me back, drawing me into his orbit until I couldn’t remember why I tried to resist in the first place.

But the more I got to know him, the more I realized how dangerous this was. Sanzu was a storm—unpredictable, violent, and reckless. He lived on the edge, always looking for the next thrill, the next fight, the next destruction.

And I was starting to realize that I was just as much of a mess as he was.

As the days turned into weeks, the encounters between Sanzu and me didn’t slow down. If anything, they grew more frequent, more... personal. We kept running into each other—missions, casual meetings, the occasional "chance" encounter in the club. Each time, Sanzu would push a little further, testing my boundaries, seeing how far he could go before I snapped, before I finally pushed him away.

And every time, I resisted, but not without a cost.

There were moments—fleeting ones—where I felt a strange kind of... comfort in his presence. Moments where he would catch me off guard with a comment or a touch that felt too familiar. Too intimate. His persistence wasn’t just irritating—it was dangerous. It was like he knew exactly what strings to pull, and before I knew it, I was caught up in his game, unsure whether I was playing him or if he was playing me.

But even in all the chaos of it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to him. Something that went beyond the cocky, reckless exterior he put on.

It was a late night, the kind where the air felt thick with smoke and the hum of city lights outside the Bonten headquarters. I was sitting at a table, going over some paperwork when the door to the room opened.

I didn’t look up at first, too absorbed in the task in front of me. But then I heard it. His voice.

"Busy?"

I didn’t even need to see him to know who it was. That damn voice. That damn smirk.

"Not particularly," I replied, not bothering to glance up, trying to keep my focus on the papers in front of me.

But then I heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching. And then, a chair scraping against the floor.

I didn’t have to look up to know he was sitting across from me, probably leaning back, that familiar smugness creeping into his tone. "That’s a shame. I thought you’d want to talk to me."

Finally, I lifted my gaze, meeting his eyes across the table. His dark eyes were burning with that same damn intensity, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something else behind them. Not the usual playfulness, not the usual arrogance, but something... more. Something raw. Something real.

"You’re persistent," I said flatly, folding my arms across my chest.

He leaned in, just enough to close the space between us, his gaze never leaving mine. "I told you, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere. Not until you admit that you don’t want me to."

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could say anything, there was a soft knock on the door, followed by the entrance of another man—a taller figure, dark hair, and a commanding presence.

It was then that something hit me. That something I had been ignoring, the growing feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me I wasn’t seeing the full picture.

This guy... this man who had been casually running into me, pushing my buttons, getting under my skin...

I’d heard the name before. Hell, I’d seen the name listed in the mission briefings, heard rumors whispered around Bonten headquarters. But I had never actually put it all together until now.

The man standing at the door was none other than Bonten’s executive—Sanzu.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. The realization slammed into me like a freight train, knocking the air out of my lungs. Sanzu wasn’t just some low-level goon or some random guy I’d met by chance. He was a top executive in Bonten. The executive.

I looked at him, wide-eyed, my mind racing to catch up with what I had just realized. He was watching me closely, a small, amused smile playing on his lips as if he could sense the shift in my demeanor.

"You’re… him," I finally said, my voice barely a whisper, still trying to process the shock.

He didn’t look surprised by my revelation. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, nonchalantly crossing his arms over his chest. "Did you really think I was just some random guy?" he asked, his voice light but with an edge I couldn’t quite place. "You’ve been working with me for weeks now. Guess you weren’t paying attention."

I shook my head, the weight of his words sinking in. "How could I not have known?" I muttered to myself. "I should’ve figured it out."

Sanzu’s eyes softened, just for a moment. There was no smug grin, no arrogance in his gaze now. For the first time, I saw a flicker of something human.

"Does it really matter?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost like he was testing the waters. "I’m still the same person you’ve been dealing with, Y/N. You just didn’t know my title."

I blinked, still processing. "You’ve been playing me this whole time," I said, a mix of frustration and confusion in my voice. "You let me think you were just some guy, some... casual acquaintance."

Sanzu chuckled softly, the sound almost too quiet, too controlled. "I wasn’t playing you. Not really. But you’re not wrong. I didn’t exactly tell you who I was. That was part of the game, I guess. But here’s the thing," he leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking onto mine with that same intensity. "None of that changes anything. I’m still me. And you’re still you. We’ve got... something going on, whether you want to admit it or not."

The words hung in the air between us, thick and heavy. And for a moment, I couldn’t decide if I was angry at him, or at myself, or if I was just completely confused.

"Why didn’t you just tell me?" I asked, finally finding my voice again, though it was shaky. "Why make everything so complicated?"

Sanzu’s smile returned, but this time, there was something darker about it. "Because you wouldn’t have wanted to deal with me otherwise. Trust me, I know how this works. You don’t need to know everything about me. And I don’t need you to be another one of my pawns."

His words hit harder than I expected, and it felt like the walls around me were crumbling, piece by piece. All this time, I’d been caught up in him, in the games he was playing, and I’d never stopped to think about what he was actually doing to me.

"I don’t know if I can deal with you," I muttered, more to myself than to him. "I don’t know if I can trust you."

Sanzu’s expression shifted just slightly. "Then maybe you shouldn’t," he said quietly. "But you’re already in it now. We both are."

I stared at him, trying to read him, trying to see through the layers he’d built around himself. But all I saw was that same intensity, that same drive. He wasn’t going to stop. And I didn’t know if I wanted him to.

the end. For now.

you can comment if you’d like another part. ❤️

[bronbrons]

if they find out you are pregnant with there child. Mikey (Manjiro Sano), Sanzu (Haruchiyo Sanzu), Rindou Haitani, Ran Haitani, and Hajime Kokonoi. 

⚫ Manjiro “Mikey” Sano

Reaction: Mikey goes still. He doesn’t say anything at first. The weight of the words hangs in the air. In his mind, it’s not joy or shock—it’s dread.

Bonten Mikey is numb, detached, and emotionally unstable, bordering on nihilistic.

He’s terrified of loss. Everything he loves dies or leaves. The idea of a child—his child—adds pressure he didn’t ask for.

He’d likely push you away at first. Not violently—but with coldness. “You shouldn’t keep it.” But if you insist? He wouldn’t stop you. Deep down, he wants to protect the baby. He just doesn’t trust himself to be good. His darkness scares him. “If they end up like me… they’re doomed.”

Summary: Quiet denial > emotional fear > distant protection. He won’t say it, but he cares. And he’ll watch you like a ghost in the shadows, always making sure you’re safe—just never close enough to taint it.

🩸 Hajime “Sanzu” Haruchiyo

Reaction: Laughter. Sharp, unsettling, almost unhinged. “You’re serious? My kid?” He can’t tell if this is a joke or a trap. The paranoia kicks in before the love.

Canon Behavior Analysis:

Sanzu’s deeply unstable. Loyal to Mikey to a fault, violent, addicted to control and chaos.

His reaction would be erratic. He’d accuse you first. “Did you plan this? Are you trying to use me?” He doesn't mean it—it's a defense mechanism.

Then, silence. Then protectiveness. Insane protectiveness. He’ll go full yandere-lite if he believes it’s real and you’re keeping the child. He’ll threaten doctors, buy a fortress-worth of security, and eliminate anyone he thinks is a threat. Even people who look at you wrong. You’d never walk anywhere alone again.

Summary: Panic > Paranoia > Possessive protection. It’s messy, but it’s the closest Sanzu comes to love—and he means it, in his own twisted way.

🐍 Rindou Haitani

Reaction: Flat stare. He freezes mid-smoke or mid-drink. “Wait, for real?” Then he runs a hand through his hair and mutters, “Shit…”

Canon Behavior Analysis:

Rindou’s more lowkey than Ran, more reactive than proactive.

He’s emotionally immature in Bonten and not ready to be a father—but he feels more than he lets on.

He'd need time. He wouldn’t abandon you, but he’d retreat for a few days—radio silent—then come back with subtle offerings: baby books, vitamins, safety gear.

He won’t say “I love you”, but he’ll say, “You okay? Need anything?” And that’s how you’ll know.

He’s scared—but he’s trying. For you.

Summary: Panic > avoidance > quiet support. It’s awkward, slow, but authentic. He’ll get there—on his own terms.

🎭 Ran Haitani

Reaction: Smirk. Then silence. Then a long, long pause. “Damn... So I’m really gonna be a dad?”

Canon Behavior Analysis:

Ran is cocky, charming, and calculating—but he’s not heartless.

He wouldn’t be scared so much as surprised. He’s used to being in control, and a baby? That’s chaos he didn’t plan for.

His reaction would be calm, almost too calm. “We’ll figure it out.” But beneath the cool exterior, he’s doing mental math—how to keep you hidden, how to keep the child protected from Bonten’s enemies, whether he needs to leave the organization.

He’d start calling you “mama” teasingly, but he’s already buying out entire clinics in secret.

Summary: Controlled response > lowkey overprotective > planning your entire future without telling you. He’s dead serious—but hides it behind his usual suave demeanor.

💸 Hajime “Kakucho” Kokonoi

Reaction: Immediate panic. Not visible—but internal. He’s calculating everything: finances (he's fine), security (not good), long-term impact (disastrous).

Canon Behavior Analysis:

Koko is deeply loyal but trauma-burdened. He lost Akane, and now he’s terrified of losing again.

His love for you would turn into overdrive. He’d offer to take you somewhere safe—abroad, away from Bonten.

He might even suggest faking your death to protect you and the child. He will take drastic steps.

He’s not cold—but he’s a strategist. And the only way to win this “game” is to remove you from the board entirely. You may hate it, but he’d do it anyway.

Summary: Business-first logic > drastic protective moves > genuine concern masked by money and control. His way of saying “I love you” is by building a bulletproof world you can disappear into.

None of them would jump to joy.

Trust issues, trauma, and the danger of their world would override any emotional softness.

Yet in their own broken ways, they would protect you. Not out of duty—but love they’re too damaged to name.

this is definitely another example of me being offline for ages now, I think my last post was the 1st of April- I was off because my birthday is in 4 days (July 19th) ☺️

Take this as a gift, love you all. ❤️

[bronbrons]

NIKOLAIII 🎉🥳 HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! 1ST (wake up it’s the first of the month!!!) and Nikolais bday.

Happy birthday to Nikolai!

Late though.. (3;20am) anyways, happy birthday to Gogol!

[bronbrons]

It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

thanks everyone! 😋

[bronbrons]

Dabi x reader headcanons.

(please enjoy these! Take this as a “I’m back after ages of not posting” gift! 🎁)

Comfort and Soft Moments:

Dabi’s Rare Vulnerability: Dabi doesn't show his softer side easily, but when he's alone with you, there's a certain warmth he can't hide. After a rough day, he’ll collapse onto the couch next to you, his usual sharp eyes softer. He might mutter something about how the League is pushing him too hard or how the world feels like it's closing in. It’s not much, but you can tell that his walls drop just a little bit when you're around. He allows you to place your head on his shoulder, a rare moment where his icy exterior cracks for a second, and you can feel the tension in his muscles ease.

Touching His Scars: Dabi’s scars are a part of who he is. While he doesn’t really like to talk about them, when you gently trace them with your fingertips, he won’t pull away. At first, he’ll stiffen, expecting mockery or pity, but when he realizes that you're only showing affection, he relaxes. He finds the sensation of your touch soothing, something he's not used to but cherishes. There are moments when he’ll grab your hand and hold it over his heart, his way of saying, “I trust you with this.”

Sleepy Dabi: Dabi doesn’t sleep much—his mind is always racing. But when he does sleep, he tends to sprawl out, not caring how much space he takes up. There’s something endearing about how vulnerable he looks, hair tousled, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. You’ve caught him staring at you while you sleep too, though he won't admit it. If you wake up and catch him doing it, he’ll smirk and dismiss it, but secretly, it makes him feel closer to you.

Flirty and Smutty Moments:

Confidence in the Bedroom: Dabi is the type to keep things intense. He’s not shy about his attraction to you, and when the two of you finally end up in the bedroom, his confidence takes over. He knows exactly what he’s doing, using his quirk in small ways to get you even more worked up. His movements are slow and deliberate, just enough to tease and push your buttons, waiting to hear you beg for more. His smirk grows as he notices your body reacting to him, and he thrives on the control, but he’ll never push you too far—he knows where to draw the line, respecting your boundaries.

Whispered Teasing: During intimate moments, Dabi’s mouth is never far from your ear. He whispers dark, teasing words that send shivers down your spine. His breath is warm against your skin, his voice low and rough. He’ll run his fingers across your body just enough to keep you on edge, a mixture of both passion and sadistic amusement in his eyes. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” he'll ask, his smirk dangerous, but his touch gentle in contrast. It's a game to him—seeing how far he can push without breaking you.

Aftercare: Dabi isn’t the softest, but he knows how to treat you after. He’ll clean you up in his own gruff way, using his quirk to heat up a towel before gently wiping you down. It’s not the traditional, tender aftercare you might expect, but there’s a certain roughness to his actions that feels intimate. He’ll pull you into his lap, his hands brushing over your skin as he asks if you're okay, voice quieter than usual. His usual smirk is replaced with something softer—genuine care, though he hides it behind his cold exterior.

Comedy and Light Moments:

Dabi’s Awkwardness with Compliments: Dabi isn’t exactly the type to shower you with compliments, and when he tries, it can end up awkward. For example, he might say something like, "You're not completely awful to look at," but his tone makes it sound like a backhanded insult. When you laugh and tease him about it, he’ll huff, trying to act unbothered, but there’s a slight blush on his cheeks. “Shut up,” he’ll mutter, but deep down, he loves that he can make you laugh.

Unintended Clumsiness: As confident and composed as Dabi is, there are moments where he can be hilariously clumsy. You’ve caught him at least once tripping over something or getting tangled up in his own cloak. “Yeah, I meant to do that,” he’ll say quickly, trying to save face, but his embarrassed frown is obvious. The two of you might end up laughing at how ridiculous he looks, and for a moment, it feels like a rare, human side of Dabi shines through.

Stupid Arguments: Sometimes, your “arguments” are completely nonsensical. For example, Dabi might make a comment about how he could "beat you in anything," and you’ll challenge him to something completely ridiculous, like a race to the kitchen or a contest of who can hold their breath the longest. These moments end with you both laughing, and Dabi grumbling that he wasn’t trying to win anyway. “You’re lucky,” he’ll say, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’m just saving my energy for something more important.”

Dabi and the Cat: There was this one time when you had a cat (or maybe even just a stray one wandered by), and Dabi was not at all fond of it. He would scowl at the tiny animal like it was his greatest nemesis. But as soon as you left the room, you could swear you heard a faint "meow" from Dabi, who had somehow gotten himself tangled in a blanket while trying to avoid the cat. The cat clearly wanted nothing to do with him, but he couldn’t help but look absolutely ridiculous trying to play it cool.

The “Romantic” Gesture That Went Wrong: One day, Dabi decided he’d try to be all “romantic” and show you how much he cared—by cooking dinner. He burned the food. Actually, burned doesn’t even cover it—he forgot about it entirely, leaving it to resemble charcoal. When you came into the kitchen, he looked sheepishly at the wreckage. “Well, uh… I thought you’d prefer something… intense?” he said, trying to recover. You burst into laughter at his failed attempt, and for once, Dabi couldn't help but crack a smile too, realizing how ridiculous the whole thing was.

Overall Dynamic:

The two of you have a complex dynamic, balancing the dark and serious aspects of Dabi’s personality with the moments of softness and humor that make your relationship unique. He might not always show it, but Dabi is fiercely protective of you and values your presence in his life. There are plenty of moments of laughter and ridiculousness, but at the end of the day, he’s there for you in his own way. His dark humor, smirks, and teasing hide the fact that he’s deeply invested in you, and even though he won’t admit it, he finds comfort in the moments when the two of you can just be yourselves.

😭 back after ages! Hi! 😼

[bronbrons]

canon vs fanon (feat: Chuuya Nakahara)

Canon: Chuuya Nakahara is a highly skilled martial artist and a master of hand-to-hand combat. His fighting style is brutal, efficient, and precise, allowing him to take down enemies much larger than himself. He relies on his natural strength and agility, only using his ability, Upon the Tainted Sorrow, when absolutely necessary.

Fanon: Chuuya is a reckless brawler who throws punches without much thought, relying on his ability to overpower opponents rather than his actual combat skills. Many fan portrayals ignore the fact that he is a disciplined fighter and instead depict him as someone who fights purely on impulse and rage.

Canon: Chuuya is an executive of the Port Mafia, a position that requires intelligence, leadership, and strategic thinking. Despite his temper, he is capable of handling high-level operations and is trusted with serious responsibilities.

Fanon: Chuuya is just a temperamental attack dog for the Port Mafia, blindly following orders without questioning anything. Some portray him as a low-ranking grunt rather than an executive, ignoring his authority within the organization.

Canon: Chuuya’s ability, Upon the Tainted Sorrow, allows him to manipulate gravity with precision. He uses it in battle for enhanced mobility, powerful attacks, and sometimes even support roles. His most dangerous move, Corruption, makes him nearly unstoppable but comes at the cost of losing control, requiring Dazai’s No Longer Human to stop him.

Fanon: Chuuya constantly overuses Corruption without any real consequences, and many fan portrayals depict it as something he can handle on his own. Some fanfics even have him using it casually, contradicting the fact that it’s a last-resort move that can kill him if not stopped.

Canon: Chuuya is fiercely independent and has no issue working alone. While he was once in a partnership with Dazai, he has long since moved past it and doesn’t rely on Dazai in his daily life.

Fanon: Chuuya is obsessed with Dazai and constantly thinks about him, even years after they stopped working together. Some portrayals reduce his entire character to just being Dazai’s former partner, as if he has no identity outside of Soukoku.

Canon: Chuuya is intelligent, quick-witted, and capable of making important decisions under pressure. While he may not be as manipulative as Dazai, he is not foolish and can recognize traps or deception when he sees them. He even holds his own in negotiations and understands the inner workings of the mafia.

Fanon: Chuuya is dumb, hot-headed, and easily manipulated. Many fans treat him as nothing more than a short, angry idiot who gets tricked by Dazai constantly, despite the fact that he’s a mafia executive who has survived in a world of deception and power struggles.

Canon: Chuuya is short (160 cm / 5’3”), but he doesn’t let it define him. He is confident in his strength and abilities, proving that his height has no impact on his combat prowess or leadership skills.

Fanon: Chuuya has an extreme Napoleon complex and is constantly insecure about his height. Many fan works exaggerate his reactions, making him explode with anger whenever someone mentions it, despite the fact that he rarely gets upset about it in canon.

Canon: Chuuya has a refined sense of style and enjoys expensive things, but he is not vain or obsessed with material wealth. He dresses well and carries himself with confidence, but he is still practical and focused on his duties.

Fanon: Chuuya is portrayed as an over-the-top fashionista who is obsessed with his looks. Some fans exaggerate his love for wine, fashion, and luxury, making it seem like he cares more about those things than his work or responsibilities.

Canon: Chuuya is a complex character with a strong sense of loyalty, especially to the Port Mafia. He respects Mori but is not blindly devoted to him. He has his own morals and priorities and doesn’t hesitate to challenge authority when necessary.

Fanon: Chuuya is either depicted as Mori’s mindless lapdog, following orders without question, or as someone who secretly hates the Port Mafia and is waiting for an excuse to leave. Both extremes ignore the nuance of his actual loyalty and personal convictions.

Canon: Chuuya’s relationship with Dazai is complicated. While they have a history of working together and know each other well, they are not best friends or constantly thinking about each other. They have mutual respect but also resentment, and their interactions are a mix of rivalry, frustration, and occasional teamwork.

Fanon: Chuuya and Dazai are either written as childhood best friends who still care about each other deeply, or as constantly flirting and bickering like a married couple. Many fan works erase the nuance of their relationship, turning it into either pure hatred or romantic tension with no in-between.

Canon: Chuuya has a tragic past, including his time with the Sheep and the revelation that he is a modified human created by the government. However, he doesn’t let his past define him, and he has fully embraced his role in the Port Mafia.

Fanon: Chuuya is constantly brooding over his past and sees himself as a tragic figure. Some fans exaggerate his trauma to the point where it’s his entire personality, ignoring the fact that he has largely moved forward with his life.

Canon: Chuuya has his own circle of allies and subordinates within the Port Mafia. While he often works alone, he is not isolated and has people who respect and follow him.

Fanon: Chuuya is completely alone and has no friends outside of Dazai. Many fan portrayals make it seem like he has no meaningful connections besides Soukoku, ignoring his relationships with other Port Mafia members.

Overall, canon Chuuya is a well-rounded character—strong, intelligent, and independent, with a sharp temper but also deep loyalty. Fanon Chuuya, however, is often reduced to a short, angry, reckless idiot who exists only to be Dazai’s counterpart.

[bronbrons]

canon vs fanon (feat: Osamu Dazai)

Canon vs. Fanon: Dazai Osamu

1. Intelligence & Strategic Mind

Canon

Dazai is a genius tactician, one of the most intelligent characters in Bungou Stray Dogs. His ability to manipulate situations, people, and enemies into doing exactly what he wants is nearly unmatched. This is evident in:

• His strategic dismantling of the Port Mafia from within.

• Outsmarting Fyodor multiple times.

• Planning several steps ahead, such as preparing contingency plans even when captured.

Dazai does not flaunt his intelligence for praise; instead, he lets his results speak for themselves. His intelligence is not about being effortlessly overpowered but about careful planning, psychological manipulation, and reading people.

Fanon

Fanon Dazai is often portrayed as an omnipotent, godlike mastermind who can never be outsmarted. Many fanworks suggest that he always knows everything in advance, never faces real struggles, and can predict events with supernatural precision. This version of Dazai removes any tension or stakes from the story, making his victories feel too easy.

2. Suicidal Tendencies

Canon

Dazai’s suicidal tendencies are deeply tied to his existential crisis. He doesn’t seek death purely for comedy; rather, he desires a meaningful death that would provide an answer to his existence. His past in the Port Mafia, especially his time with Oda, made him search for a purpose beyond destruction.

• His suicide attempts often have a level of sincerity despite their dark humor.

• In Dark Era, Dazai’s depression is explicit—his apathy and longing for an escape from life are serious, not exaggerated for laughs.

• While the comedic element exists, it serves to mask his underlying issues.

Fanon

Many fan portrayals treat his suicidal tendencies purely as a joke, making it seem like he randomly attempts suicide for fun, rather than as a coping mechanism for his existential despair. Others go to the opposite extreme, portraying him as constantly on the verge of breaking down, crying, and needing to be saved. Canon Dazai does not openly express his suffering in an emotional way—he masks it with humor, charm, and misdirection.

3. Personality & Interactions with Others

Canon

Dazai is charismatic and manipulative, but not necessarily a “nice” person. He can be cold, ruthless, and indifferent when needed.

• He deliberately provokes people to test them (e.g., teasing Akutagawa mercilessly to push him).

• He has no problem using others as chess pieces (e.g., how he manipulates Chuuya, Ango, and even Atsushi in certain situations).

• He is not particularly affectionate—he rarely gives genuine praise and instead teaches through tough love.

• He does care about others (e.g., he saved Kunikida from being framed, respects Ranpo, and deeply cared for Oda), but he does not openly express his emotions.

Fanon

• Some fanon interpretations turn Dazai into a soft, affectionate caretaker who babies Atsushi, Chuuya, or Akutagawa.

• Another common fanon portrayal is “flirty playboy” Dazai, where he is overly smooth and romantic, when in reality, his flirtations are often comedic and exaggerated (not serious attempts at seduction).

• A lot of fanfiction also portrays him as highly emotional and prone to outbursts of sadness, which contradicts his actual character—he buries his emotions rather than showing them outright.

4. Relationship with Chuuya

Canon

Dazai and Chuuya share a complicated history as former Double Black partners. Their relationship is based on mutual reliance but also deep animosity.

• Dazai frequently insults Chuuya, knowing it will provoke him.

• He is well aware of Chuuya’s strengths and weaknesses and manipulates him accordingly.

• They respect each other’s abilities but do not share a traditionally affectionate bond.

• Dazai never truly expresses deep emotional care for Chuuya, nor does he show signs of romantic interest—he sees him as a useful but annoying partner.

Fanon

• Many fan interpretations exaggerate their bond into an overly affectionate or romantic relationship where Dazai secretly adores Chuuya.

• Some portray Chuuya as constantly worrying over Dazai’s well-being, which is inaccurate—Chuuya is more frustrated than concerned most of the time.

• The trope of Chuuya being the only one who understands Dazai is common in fanon but not strongly supported in canon. Dazai does not confide in Chuuya the way he did with Oda.

5. Relationship with Atsushi

Canon

Dazai sees potential in Atsushi and helps shape him into a stronger person. However, his approach is not gentle:

• He throws Atsushi into life-threatening situations to force him to grow.

• He rarely offers straightforward encouragement and instead challenges Atsushi to think for himself.

• He does care for Atsushi’s well-being but does not dote on him or treat him as a younger brother.

Fanon

• Some fanfictions depict Dazai as an overly protective, fatherly figure to Atsushi, which contradicts his actual tough-love approach.

• Others exaggerate their bond into something more personal than what is shown in canon.

Conclusion

Canon Dazai is an enigmatic, morally ambiguous strategist who hides his true self behind layers of manipulation, humor, and misdirection. He is neither an omniscient mastermind nor a helpless, emotionally fragile man who needs saving. His suicidal tendencies stem from existential despair rather than comedic effect, and his relationships are more complex and layered than fanon often depicts.

While fan interpretations are always valid in creative spaces, understanding the distinction between canon and fanon helps appreciate Dazai’s depth as a character.

[bronbrons]

Valentine’s Special: “Burning Red”

(Dabi x GN!Reader)

You never pegged Dabi as the type to care about Valentine’s Day. Hell, you were almost sure he’d sneer at the idea, maybe toss out some cynical comment about how it was just another dumb holiday for saps. And yet—here you were, standing outside an abandoned bar, a crumpled-up note in your hand.

Be there at 10. Don’t be late.

That was all it said, scrawled in his messy handwriting, like he hadn’t put much thought into it. But you knew better. Dabi didn’t do things without a reason. And he sure as hell didn’t do things like this unless he wanted to.

Pushing the door open, you were immediately hit with the scent of something smoky—charred wood, a lingering trace of burnt sugar. The bar was dimly lit, the only real light source coming from the neon sign buzzing faintly against the cracked wall.

And there he was.

Dabi leaned against the counter, blue flames flickering at his fingertips. He looked up lazily as you walked in, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze dragged over you, slow and deliberate.

“Took you long enough,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to his words.

“You gave me a time. I was on time,” you shot back.

His lips twitched, something between a smirk and a real smile. “Yeah, yeah.” With a flick of his wrist, the flames disappeared, leaving only warmth in their wake.

You glanced around. “So, what’s this about? You finally decided to go soft on me?”

Dabi snorted, pushing himself up and walking around the counter. He was close now, too close, and when he tilted his head, the dim light caught the sharp contrast of his burnt skin.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I just figured… if I was gonna spend this stupid holiday with anyone, it might as well be you.”

Your chest tightened at that. Because for Dabi, that meant something.

Before you could say anything, he jerked his chin toward the counter. You followed his gaze and—

“You got me a drink?” you asked, blinking.

A bottle of whiskey sat there, two mismatched glasses next to it. Nothing fancy. But still. 

Better than nothing right?

He shrugged, leaning his hip against the counter. “Figured you wouldn’t complain.”

You picked up one of the glasses, swirling the amber liquid inside before taking a sip. The burn slid down your throat, warm and familiar. “Not bad,” you admitted.

Dabi watched you for a moment before lifting his own glass. “To bad decisions,” he said, voice low.

You clinked your glass against his. “And the people we make them with.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt… right. Dabi wasn’t one for grand gestures. He didn’t do roses or chocolates. But this—this quiet moment, this undeniable tension in the air—was more than enough.

And when he leaned in, the scent of smoke and whiskey thick between you, you didn’t pull away.

“Happy Valentine’s, doll,” he murmured against your lips, just before he kissed you.

And just like that, everything burned.

Happy Valentine’s Day to everyone!

[bronbrons]

texts with Dabi and y/n.

Dabi: Where the hell are you?

Y/N: On my way.

Dabi: You said that 10 minutes ago.

Y/N: And I’ll say it again in another 10 if you keep texting me.

Dabi: Unbelievable.

—

Dabi: You’re late. Again.

Y/N: You’re ugly. Again.

Dabi: Unnecessary.

Y/N: So was your text.

—

Y/N: Bring me food.

Dabi: Say please.

Y/N: I’d rather starve.

Dabi: Good.

—

Dabi: Why is there a knife in the couch?

Y/N: Oh. There it is.

Dabi: THE HELL DO YOU MEAN “THERE IT IS”???

—

Y/N: I did something.

Dabi: …How bad?

Y/N: Hypothetically or realistically?

Dabi: Y/N.

—

Dabi: I’m gonna kill you.

Y/N: Get in line.

—

Y/N: If I commit arson, do you think Shigaraki would be mad?

Dabi: No. But I would be mad if you didn’t invite me.

Y/N: You’re my favorite coworker.

Dabi: I’m your only coworker.

Y/N: Details.

—

Dabi: I’m picking up food. Want anything?

Y/N: A new life.

Dabi: Be serious.

Y/N: Fries?

Dabi: Better.

—

Y/N: If I die, delete my browser history.

Dabi: No. I’m printing it out and framing it.

Y/N: You’re the worst.

Dabi: And yet, you keep texting me.

_

Dabi: Why is the hideout on fire?

Y/N: Define “fire.”

Dabi: …THE FLAMES. THE HEAT. THE FACT THAT I CAN SEE IT BURNING.

Y/N: Oh. Then yeah, my bad.

—

Y/N: I need help.

Dabi: With what?

Y/N: Emotionally, mentally, financially—

Dabi: Goodbye.

—

Dabi: I swear to god, if you touch my jacket again—

Y/N: Too late.

Dabi: Y/N.

Y/N: What? I look good in it.

—

Dabi: You’re the worst person I know.

Y/N: Then you should meet more people.

—

Y/N: I think Toga stole my hoodie.

Dabi: That’s between you and god.

—

Dabi: Why is there a sock full of knives in the fridge?

Y/N: First of all, mind your business.

—

Y/N: Hypothetically, if I were to fight a pigeon, would you back me up?

Dabi: No. I’d record it.

—

Dabi: Toga says you threw a chair at Twice.

Y/N: That is a wild accusation.

Dabi: So, you didn’t?

Y/N: …I didn’t miss.

—

Dabi: Why are you outside my door?

Y/N: Let me in.

Dabi: No.

Y/N: I brought snacks.

Dabi: …Fine.

—

Y/N: I did something.

Dabi: I am not your lawyer.

—

Dabi: If you get arrested, I’m not bailing you out.

Y/N: Yes, you are.

Dabi: No, I’m not.

Y/N: You totally are.

Dabi: …Yeah, I am.

—

Y/N: If I die, play “All Star” at my funeral.

Dabi: Absolutely not.

Y/N: Then I’m haunting you.

—

Dabi: If you keep breathing on my neck, I will set you on fire.

Y/N: You act like I don’t already live in hell.

—

Y/N: Be honest, would you die for me?

Dabi: No, but I’d kill for you.

Y/N: That’s fair.

—

Dabi: If you steal my lighter again, I will throw you off a building.

Y/N: You keep saying that, but I’m still here.

Dabi: Not for long.

—

Y/N: You wanna get food?

Dabi: I literally just saw you eat.

Y/N: …You wanna get food?

Dabi: Get in the car.

Y/N: …what car?

Dabi: the one I stole?

—

Let me know if you want any characters done!

[bronbrons]

Y/N: You should be more like Dabi.

Shigaraki: Shut the hell up.

Y/N: No, really. He’s got a certain charm. Confident, stylish, a natural leader…

Shigaraki: He wears the same coat every day.

Y/N: It’s called having a signature look. Maybe you should try it.

Shigaraki: I have a signature look. It’s fearsome.

Y/N: It’s crusty.

Shigaraki: Blocked.

[bronbrons]

Y/N: You know, Touya is actually kinda sweet.

Dabi: … What.

Y/N: Yeah, he just seems like a good guy. Like, he actually listens when people talk.

Dabi: Uh-huh.

Y/N: Unlike Dabi, who’s kind of an ass.

Dabi: Excuse me???

Y/N: Just saying. Touya probably gives the best hugs. Dabi, though? Feels like he’d pat your back too hard just to be annoying.

Dabi: What the actual fuck is this conversation.

Y/N: Touya would help you out if you were having a bad day. Dabi would just make fun of you for it.

Dabi: You do realize we are the same person, right?

Y/N: Eh. Debatable.

Dabi: Oh, fuck you.

[bronbrons]

Y/N: You know, Touya is actually really sweet. I like talking to him.

Dabi: …Touya?

Y/N: Yeah, Touya. He’s way nicer than you.

Dabi: You do realize—

Y/N: He actually listens when I talk. Doesn’t just brush me off like some burnt-out asshole I know.

Dabi: Are you serious right now?

Y/N: He compliments me too. Doesn’t just insult me for fun. It’s refreshing.

Dabi: I literally AM Touya.

Y/N: Yeah, but Touya and Dabi are different people. One’s tolerable. The other is… well.

Dabi: You’re messing with me.

Y/N: Am I?

Dabi:

Y/N: Anyway. Tell Touya I said hi.

Dabi: You’re the worst.