#its moving too slow and too fast and nothing feels right yk

[aroace-poly-show]

anyone else just feel a really weird disconnect all the time

[mxxnlitwonders]

don’t be such a brat — sugawara koushi

✎ gender. female  ✎ contains. pegging, dom!reader, praising and degradation giving, suga’s a brat!!!, edging ✎ wc. 1.3k 

✎ summary. someone needs to teach suga that brats don’t always get what they want and that someone is you <3

✎ ameris’ notes. repost from my other blog! i think this was the first smut i’ve written + shared. am not very proud of it but, yk, i was proud of it at some point lol. 

Suga groans into the pillow, biting into it as you slowly enter a second finger into his asshole. He can’t help but move his ass back into you, wanting more friction. 

“Tch,” you slap his cheek and Suga let out another frustrated groan when he feels the stinging pain on his ass. 

“Please,” Suga whimpers.  

“Don’t be such a brat, Koushi.” You took out your fingers to watch his hole clench around nothing. You hum in satisfaction. “God, you’re such a little slut Kou-chan. You’re so desperate for my fingers and we haven’t even gotten to the good part.” 

Suga turns his head to look you dead in the eyes, desperation and frustration written all over his face. He calls out your name, "If you don’t fuck me-” 

Another slap rings through the bedroom and Suga whines into the pillow. You rub your hand over his cheek, soothing it. 

“Oh Kou-chan, do you really think you can tell me what to do? Don’t be a fucking brat or I’ll leave you like this,” you say. You can tell that Suga’s biting his bottom lip to prevent himself from back talking. 

You pour more lube over your fingers then close the bottle and toss it somewhere on the bed. You spread his cheeks, and enter two fingers into his puckering hole once more, stretching him out. 

“You look so good spread out like this for me, face down, ass up,” you muse. You move your hand to his back and in between his shoulder blades, pressing down on it. You make sure to rub your fingers where he wants you most as you stretch him out. A deep and muffled moan leaves his mouth and you smirk at how he grips the pillow he’s burying his face into.

“I’m sure I’d look better once you get that dick in me.” 

You click your tongue again and you still your fingers. Once again, Suga tries to grind back into your hand but you’re sure to slap his ass once more. Slowly, you pull your fingers away, admiring once more how his hole clenches around nothing. 

“Since you’re so impatient, fine.” You reach over to the nightstand to grab the strap-on, sliding your legs through and then coating the dildo with lube. It wasn’t too large in girth or too long in length. Just good enough for him to take.

Suga’s brown eyes watch you needily, his tongue licking his lips. Clearly, Suga thinks he’s finally getting what he wanted. 

“You’re such a whore Kou-chan,” you sigh as you spread his cheeks. To make sure he’s prepped, you slide in another finger and then a second and a third, all sliding in comfortably. You hum when Suga whines once more as you take your fingers out then gripped his hips tightly. Your other hand slowly eases the strap-on into him. 

Suga’s face contorts in pleasure, his breathing grew uneven. 

“Come on, baby, you wanted my cock,” you tut, immediately stopping your motion. “You can dish it out but can’t take it, huh.” Suga yelped when your hand slapped against his ass cheek again. 

“It’s just,” Suga breathes out. “It’s just big.” 

You hum, “My statement still stands.” You start pushing your hips towards him again. Suga lets out a long moan, muffling it into the pillow. His words are muffled but you make out that he’s saying something along the lines of “it feels so fucking good.” 

The moment your hips meet his, Suga noticeably relaxes and you take a moment to check if he’s okay. 

“Yeah, I’m good, you can move,” he says. 

But you don’t. 

Instead, you lean down and place a kiss between his shoulder blades. Your grip on his hips is strong, preventing him from moving. One of your hands snake around to lightly grip his hard dick that’s been leaking with precum. 

With small languid strokes, you say, “I don’t think you deserve to be fucked, slut.” 

Suga turns his head over his shoulder and glares but your will is unmoving as you then brush your thumb over his tip, gathering his precum. You can tell he wanted to let out another retort but instead a groan took place of it followed by a whimper when he tried to grind back on you but you prevented him from moving. 

“You said you wanted my dick, now you have it.” 

Suga let out a groan in frustration. “I want you to move.”

You smacked his ass once more and Suga gasped. You lightly rub against the red marks that appeared on his cheek from the many times you’ve slapped him. 

“No,” you say and you then start to tighten your hold on his cock, stroking it fast and hard while making sure you brush over his tip. He moans, letting out cries of pleasure. 

“Oh my god-Ah!" He moans out your name. "I’m going to-Fuck. Feels good,” his voice dies off towards the end as he feels himself get closer and closer to his climax, but not in a way he wants and desperately tries to grind back against you. Your core throbs, somehow getting more turned on at his pleasure.

You suddenly let go of his cock, leaving him to groan out loud from being unable to cum. 

“Fuck, please,” Suga whimpers. “Was s’close…” A smirk makes its way onto your face. You bend down once more, leaving kisses over his back and making sure to leave marks for him. 

“What do you need, baby?” 

“I need you to fuck me, I need to cum,” he pleads. “Please.”

“I don’t know if you deserve it.” Your fingers lightly tap against his hips as you admire where your bodies met. Your eyes travel up his back to his face where you notice how his eyes are begging for you to move. 

“Please," he softly cries out for you “I’m your slut, please, I need to cum.” 

Your eyes widen at his words, satisfaction flowing over you and slowly you pull out. With a one hard thrust, Suga moans, desperate to feel a release. Soon, you find yourself in a rhythm, thrusting your hips into him. 

“You’re taking my cock so well, fuck,” you say as you watch how easily the strap-on slides into him. Suga’s moans reverberated through the room as well as a string of curses. You can feel how wet you are between your legs but seeing Suga in absolute bliss beneath you makes you feel like you can cum right there and then. You’d make sure to make him eat you out later. 

When Suga feels your hand wrap around his cock once more, his eyes snap open to look over his shoulder at you. His senses were overwhelmed. You readjust your hips slightly at this, and Suga unashamedly lets out another deep moan when he feels you hitting him deep where he needed you to. 

“I’m going to-fuck, I-” Suga can’t string words together to form a sentence and you chuckle. All he can do is grind back into you.

“That’s it Koushi, cum for me,” you say softly. With that, the build up in Suga’s core snaps and you smirk. Spurts of his cum are all over your hand, his stomach, and the bed sheets below. You slow down your thrusts to fuck him through his orgasm then pull out. Suga watches as you lick off his cum from your hand. Your other hand massaging his ass.

“You alright, Koushi?” 

Suga smiles back at you, slowly collapsing onto the bed as you move away to take off the strap-on. “That was perfect.” His eyes trail over your body, taking in the outline of your curves. You notice how his eyes linger over your breasts and then your legs. 

“Good.” The bed dips below you as you make your way back towards him, pushing him so that he’s laying on his back. There’s excitement in Suga’s eyes as he watches you move to straddle his face. His hands are immediately on your hips and he can see just how wet you are with how your folds are glistening. He tries to bring your core down to his mouth but you stay still, gripping his soft gray hair and the headboard. 

 “You’re such a slut for me, Kou-chan. Now you’re going to make me cum two more times, alright baby?”

[stargaze-issei]

— "𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞" (𝐛. 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭; when your father, the head of the japanese mafia, was killed, your childhood friend swore to protect you till his death. now, you're the empress of the underground world, and he doesn't know what's harder, to keep you safe or manage to hide his feelings. what will he do when, for the first time, your life's at risk and he isn't anywhere near?

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; mafia!au, angst.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; swearing, mentions of blood, guns, murder, kidnap, yk... mafia stuff.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 2.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; lemme know if u want a part two bc i felt like it was getting too long and i don't know if anyone will read it or like it 👉🏻👈🏻

"where the fuck are you?" bakugou's voice stroke over the phone, noticeably angry. he had told you several times to never go anywhere without him, which you mostly did, if it weren't for him being away a lot of times. nothing less was expected from your right hand, who handled every dirty job, and considering your line of work, it wasn't scarce. but you did had other bodyguards, just as trained as katsuki, willing to give their lifes for you, which was extremely better than having bakugou giving his life.

to his eyes, you were still the little girl from before. he saw you as a someone who needed protection. at first, you agreed. your father was murdered, someone managed to get through all his security and killed him, none of the guns he and his security team carried around could protect him, killing you would be like stealing a sweet from a baby. bakugou had always kept you safe, despite his agressive usual safe, he cared about you more than he cared for himself. so you stuck to his side, believing, hoping, he'd die for you. but that was a long time ago, now, you could defend yourself, and had raised a sense of loyalty in your people by your own. your father's empire was based in fear, yours? by admiration. you didn't see your people as working ants, but as important parts of a whole. still, anyone who was a threat to you, bakugou made sure to erase them forever.

"don't talk to me like that, i'm your boss" you could feel him losing his shit, a smile began to form in your face. even when everyone respected you, he was still the same.

"you can't boss anyone if you're fucking dead, you dumb shit" a laugh came out of your throat, he couldn't avoid smiling at the sound "wait, oh, okay, i know we're you are. stay there, i'll be in three" he hung up before you could reply.

you looked back, at one of your guards who was just putting away his phone. of course they told him. why couldn't you go get your own coffee? being in the office all day was tiring, to be five minutes outside was all you asked for. a few seconds after, they handed you your coffee, obviously, a guard had to try it first, in case that barista wanted to suddenly murder you. of course he didn't.

"who let her go outside without me knowing, huh?" a furious katsuki appeared through the door, making a scene in the place. you gave him a warning look. if there was something you hated, was that. everyone in the area knew who you were, but why make it any more obvious. those people were just living their usual lifes, and people tend to get nervous around you. "the car is waiting outside" he understood, but you knew he was going to scold you anyways.

you walked outside, smiling, and got into the car, followed by katsuki and one of his subordinates, the other one got in the front sit, next to the driver.

"save it, i'm n–"

"the fuck you are" he cut you "your safety is my responsibility, if i say you can't go out without me, then you fucking don't. specially not when there are people after your head" there was no denying he was right, but still, it upset you.

"there's always people after my head, bakugou".

two weeks ago, two men went into your office. they were in charge of some dealing territories, though small, important. most contraband had to pass those places, you controlled those police departments making everything easier to your truck drivers. they were beaten, cover in blood and barely standing.

"our men, all of them... they all..." only one of them could talk, the other being too shocked to even look at you. "kazuhito's men, it was them... they said we had to tell you, they're coming after you" you couldn't show any fear in front of your so called soldiers, and your template remained at ease. a shout was enough to get those men the help they needed, after holding their hands, you promised to go see them once they were checked by doctors. you called bakugou as soon as they left, he was the first who should know and help you decide what to do next.

the kazuhito family had always been rivals, enemies of the worst kind. everyone suspect they were behind your father's assassination, but with no proof, even you knew it would be the biggest mistake to charge against them, despite your personal desires.

"i already told the drivers they had to take rout b for a while, but we can't let them just keep what's our" you explained to katsuki once he arrived. "those drugs have to get in town by us, damnit". it was clear how frustrated you were, those assholes had mess with your and your father's hardwork.

"if we retaliate, a war will unchain. your father tried to avoid that for years"

"and see how he ended up" bakugou didn't know if it was the anger, or you talking. "we will lose everyone's respect if we don't do something, they killed dozens of our people, katsuki".

he was trying hard to stay objective in that situation, but it was near impossible. a war would put you in more danger than ever, your life was at stake, and bakugou wasn't sure if he was willing to risk it. growing up by your side, your father taking him in when his parents died, you were his only family. more than that, he loved you. the only reason he was able to do his job right, was the fear of losing you. your head was already valued in millions, how could he protect you in the middle of a conflict, that would end only with your death or the kazuhito's leader's death? your power was bigger than theirs by little, but they did something that reckless, which meant they thought they had out powered you. had they? or were they just bluffing? had they miscalculated?.

"we're taking action, wether you support me or not" you looked into each other's eyes, you knew him enough to understand his fear, just not the reason behind it. your voice softened "but i'd much rather do it with you by my side".

"you're the boss" he spoke, already regretting it "i'll schedule a meeting so the high charges let everyone else know, i'm staying at your place so we can trace a plan".

and there you were now, being reprimanded by bakugou. he was extremely tired, he decided to stay with you until things were calmer, which could be several months from then. getting up at six a.m, going to sleep past midnight, being always looking for possible threats, it had given him bags under his eyes.

"i'm sorry" you said once you were alone with him, it was only then that you could let your guard down "i'm making this harder for you".

"yeah, you are. but it's my job, after all" that came out wrong, he thought. it wasn't his job, it was his fucking life purpose. he wanted you to live a long, happy life, as hard as it seemed.

"i guess it is" deep down, his response disappointed you.

"hey, look at me" out of nowhere, his body was insanely close to yours, you felt his breath in your face as he lifted your chin with his finger "there's nothing i wouldn't do for you, got that, dumbass?"

for a brief moment, the taste of his lips was all you could think about. i bet they're soft. but as fast as it started, it was over, katsuki pulled away harshly, inventing an excuse to leave. he had flown too close to the sun, so close that it burned his skin.

a few more people went to see you that day, asking for diverse permissions, advice and stuff like that. since it had been slow, compared to other times, you decided to home early. a call to your team, and the car was already outside. bakugou left instructions for your departure, because he had things to do somewhere else, much to his displeasure. you were accompanied by your escorts to the doors of the building, that seemed like a normal office compound. there were waiting two other guards, making a total of six people protecting you. way to go, bakugou.

"how's your wife, ryota?" you asked the driver. of course, not everyone fitted in the same car, so you got into the second one, middle seat, between a built up woman and a big man. you tried to remember everyone's name, but it was difficult.

"she's good, ma'am, sends her regards" he smiled at you over the mirror.

"and the baby? he must be a month old, right?" at the memory of his child, his face lightened "you should take some days off, i bet your wife and son miss you"

"i have a duty with you, m–" a loud impact interrupted him, the front glass had exploded. the car had an abrupt movement back and forward, all you could see was blood, everywhere.

the woman next to you took her gun out, in order to protect you , you thought, completely wrong. before everyone could react to her act, she shot the guard in front of you.  you looked at your side, searching for someone alive, the same bullet that had killed ryota was in the guard's at your right forehead. besides you , the only other person was that woman. if she hadn't glasses on, that stare could've seen throughout your soul. then you remembered, katsuki made you bare with a knife under your sleeve. with a weird move, you felt its sharpness against your skin, it was there, but she read you like a book. before you could even pull it out, another shot stroke followed by a intense pain in you thight. the bitch had shot you. you blamed it on the adrenaline, because nothing hurt. what happened after was a couple of blurry images in your memory.

bakugou had called you more than a hundred times, you, the drivers, the guards, everyone in his fucking team, but no one knew anything. the cameras at your house never showed you arriving, your phone's location was off. he was out of his head, if he didn't hear from you in the next five minutes, someone's going to die. he rushed into his car, following your rout at a dangerous speed. 

both cars were full of bullet holes, and every guard he had hired was dead. there wasn't a place without blood. tears of pure rage came to his eyes, fuck, it was his fault. he started to look for you, but the whole world was spinning around him. where were you? where was your body? were you alive?, this couldn't be happening. he had left you unprotected, alone, and now you could be dead, because of his uselessness. his phone vibrated in his pocket.

"sir, we– we have– the kazuhito's are here" he left as fast as he came. they had touch you, they had taken you away from him, and he wasn't going to let them get away with it, even if he had to go against a whole army, whoever was behind it all was going to pay.

a man in a suit was sitting in the chair of your office, smoking a cigarette, as calm as a rock. katsuki was so close to rip his head of right there, that somebody had to hold him down. his own people updated him, saying that he had gone into the building alone, with no weapons of any kind, not even a cellphone.

"where the fuck is she?" he crashed his hand against the desk.

"ah, mr. bakugou, please take a se–"

"tell me where she is right now if you want to keep your head, fucking bastard" his hand had wondered to the tip of the gun in his belt, menacing to blow up at any second.

"you won't do that, mr., if i don't return to my people in one hour, she'll be so fucked up that not even you will recognize her" a laugh surge grom bakugou, a dark, cold laugh.

"i don't have to kill you, then" one of the man's hand rested in the desk, like asking for katsuki to rip it off his body. as you did, he also carried knifes under his shirt. in less than a second, one of them was buried into the man's hand. he screamed, both in shock and pain, giving your bodyguard a hatred look. "what do you want, shitface?"

"i-it's quite simple, actually" his face was white as paper, and even though he wanted to talk normally, his voice shivered "we want you to take over the y/l/n's business, under our command of course" he let out a sigh, trying to keep his composure and ignoring his bleeding hand "if you– if you agree, she will have to leave japan and never..."

bakugou won't agree to that. not now and not ever. to give away what you and your father built from scratch, and spent decades keeping safe, was like killing your child, and your father's memory. to send you away, alone, where he most likely won't see you again in years, was also off the table. it wasn't funny anymore. he started walking around the man's chair, picking up his sleeves. he checked the clock in the office, he had forty-five minutes with the man, meaning, forty-five minutes to make him talk. he ressourced to every fast interrogation method he knew. the people outside the door weren't surprised when they heard the man's screams, even wondering what had taken so long for the boss to start acting. katsuki was never a patient man. his senses were blocked, he couldn't hear anything but screams and begging, all his eyes could see was pain through all the man's body, his hands felt nothing but warm blood. but for the first time in a while, he wasn't enjoying it. he was doing it out of need, the need to save you. every minute that went by, was a minute were your life risked. he never felt so close to losing his sanity.

"outside the city! she's in one of our safe houses outside the city! i don't know which, please stop!" ten minutes before the timeline he finally gave up. your intelligence had all their safe houses, storages, garages, every location needed. not a second passed when one of yours men delivered a map with all the points marked. there were five in total.

"throw him outside in ten minutes" he shouted, walking to the armory "two teams, six people each, my fucking people, hear me? now, dammit! we're leaving in a minute, if i have to go by my fucking self, i'll do it"

when he was armed to the teeth, almost a dozen of people followed him outside. they were his most trusted men and women, being trained together, he knew they were as skilled as him, and they were all willing to put their life's at stake for you, their boss. in the car, bakugou barked the instructions. he had narrowed it down to two possible locations with all the information he had. if they had to kill every person in those places, then be it. he's going to get you back.

[liketolaugh-writes]

Skeletons Rattle in the Dark

Author: liketolaugh Summary: The doll was stained in blood both red and blue; decades of wear had faded much of the color from its surface. To anyone else, it was unsettling, even scary, cursed or haunted. But Connor, falling apart under the weight of sins both his and not, couldn’t bring himself to put it down for more than a few minutes at a time.

After Markus made his speech to the crowd of newly-freed androids, Connor slipped away into a corner where he can hide until night fell.

It wasn’t the final straw, what Amanda had done. In some ways it had felt like karma, or catharsis, like a horror he had earned and deserved even as he fought it so desperately – so it didn’t hurt as much as Connor felt it should have (though it hurt quite a lot.) Actually, Connor would be hard-pressed to say what had been the final straw, the event that pushed him past the point of tolerance into a keening void of black emotion.

Was it when Lieutenant Anderson had held a gun to his head and asked him if he was afraid to die, and Connor had said no because that was the answer Amanda would have wanted?

Was it the third death, when the task of crawling across the floor had seemed insurmountable and he just closed his eyes to wait?

Was it when Elijah Kamski had pushed a gun into his hands and whispered for him to destroy the machine in front of him, and he had obeyed despite the ringing emptiness of death that echoed behind his eyes?

Was it when he looked Markus in the eyes and finally allowed himself to understand that everything he’d worked so hard for was wrong?

The answer was out of Connor’s reach, and in the end it didn’t matter at all – by the time he opened his eyes on the stage again and put the gun in his pocket, he was drowning and he knew he couldn’t stay. The few hours left of the day passed in a blur, and people passed his hiding place by without a second glance. It wasn’t until long after darkness fell that Connor dared come out, wandering the abandoned streets in numb search of a place to go.

He couldn’t stay here.

Connor walked, and it wasn’t fast enough so he jogged, and then he was running, taking turns at random as if to lose himself in the streets despite the GPS in his HUD that kept careful track of every step he took.

It was close to one edge of the city that he slowed from a run to a jog to a slow, listless walk, feeling no better than when he’d started. His mood got darker with every step, a tired and raw anxiety wrapping around his shoulders. He didn’t trip only because the motion protocols were mindless, calculated in a distant part of his mind, but his walk got slower and slower until he stopped, overwhelmed by the prospect of going a single step further.

He looked down. A few feet in front of him, there was a little doll, clearly old and used – rain-soaked, stained, worn from the years. One of the printed-on eyes had had most of the color rubbed away. A little bottle patterned with flowers sat about six inches away.

It was stained with thirium, like much of the street nearby. If there was a body – a YK model, maybe – that the doll had belonged to, it had been cleared away. Connor let his legs fold to kneel down beside it, hands pressing flat to the ground, and his choking misery threatened to swallow him up again. His body heaved and shivered, his shoulders bent under a nonexistent weight, and for a while he stared silently at the doll. There were brown stains peeking out from the back of it – blood, more likely than not, and very old blood at that.

[2005 Kinder Garden Babies doll, violet]

What was he going to do? Where could he go? Lieutenant Anderson, who looked at him with such disgust, wouldn’t look twice at him – the police department, eying him warily, certainly wouldn’t either. Jericho, which he’d harmed so horribly, would be quite right to cast him out, and the names just piled up – the Tracis, the Chloe, Ralph and Rupert and the HK400 who hadn’t had a name at all-

And now Amanda among them, and Connor was alone.

Before he could think twice about it, his hands scooped up the doll, smaller than a true infant and just big enough to comfortably hold in two hands, and he squeezed it to his chest. His next breath came in a gasp, and he choked on the one after. The third came close to a wheeze.

The fourth wrenched itself up in a sob, and tears, saline cleaning solution, started to spill down his cheeks, with no rain to mask them, only the soft dark of a city night. He clung to the abandoned doll like he’d forgotten how to let go, like if he did he’d lose himself and fall, and it didn’t matter if it was true because he wasn’t letting go. He stayed in place and rocked himself and cried, wept and sobbed and surrendered to the tempest that had dragged at him for days.

Connor stayed there until the light of dawn started to lighten the sky above, and while the tears had stopped by then the shaking hadn’t, nor had he loosened from his tightly curled posture, wrapped around the doll in search of comfort he didn’t deserve and no one else would provide.

But with the dawn would come the first stirrings of civilization, calmed down for only a night by the terror of the revolution, and Connor couldn’t stay.

He took the doll with him. Tucked her bottle into his pocket and her body against his chest, and walked away, hurried but not frantic, not desperate. The one to whom she had previously belonged had no need of her anymore (YK500 #548 901 257, designation: Sadie) and he couldn’t bring himself to put her down. It was silly, it was irrational, but he felt so lost and having something to hold, to stroke and neaten, helped ground him.

Connor held on only long enough to make his way into a condemned parking garage, to find an alcove to tuck himself into and set the doll in his lap, and he pushed himself into stasis because he suddenly found he couldn’t stand to be awake for one moment longer.

He dreamed of falling, not from a fifty story building but into an abyss that never ended, knowing that he wouldn’t be alive to feel himself hit the ground.

------------

“I know that my memory ends before I truly die,” Connor murmured to the doll, to Venus in her little stained purple outfit emblazoned with a brand name that had long become too worn to read. “But I cannot help but feel like the silence between upload and reactivation is too… dense. There is no life after death, Venus, at least not for androids. There’s nothing but emptiness waiting for us.”

He had shifted locations three times in the last week, not wanting to stay in one place more than a few days. No one would look for him, except perhaps to kill him in vengeance, but he did not want to invoke curiosity by becoming a staple anywhere either. He had taken Venus with him every time, her bottle in the crook of her arm or in his pocket, and her face tucked against his chest.

She appeared to have no mechanical parts, but despite this hindrance she often moved in the night and sometimes when he simply turned around for a few moments. Connor found he didn’t mind. That was, apparently, just Venus’ nature.

Connor exhaled, letting his forehead fall against that of the little doll and his eyes close. “Is that what I sentenced Chloe to, Venus? Did I sentence her to a null eternity?” He huffed softly. “I suppose that’s a contradiction, of sorts, but I can’t bring myself to abandon the thought. Or did Kamski reupload her? Perhaps she dreams of the emptiness too.”

The blood staining her clothing had been rubbed and worn beyond crunching under his touch like a near-fresh stain, and testing had not revealed any known DNA profile. Likely she was too old for that. Her ‘model’ was, after all, thirty-three years old. The bloodstains probably predated androids as a people, let along Connor himself.

There are no dreams, Connor. There is only… the imprint of your own memories.

Venus’ voice came in a whisper, barely on the edge of even Connor’s exceptional hearing, and he found that this didn’t bother him either. Not only was it not the first time he’d heard a voice attributable to Venus, but he simply… didn’t have the energy to mind.

Venus was the only one he’d spoken to in the last week, and the only one he planned to speak to for a very long time yet.

“I know,” he whispered against her forehead. “I know.”

Shh. It’s okay to cry. I won’t tell.

Connor did, not the wracking sobs of the first night but silent and trailing tears.

“Lieutenant Anderson wanted to send me there,” he breathed through the static rasp of his vocal module. “I can’t help but think that he knew. I deserve it now, and I deserved it even more then, but it still feels… Lieutenant Anderson and I are not friends, but I still can’t bring myself to reconcile that night with his behavior at large.” Pause. “Perhaps he thinks of it as a relief. He wants so badly to go there himself.”

A few moments of silence, and Connor breathed, deep and shuddering, leaning on the concrete wall blocking off the roof’s edge, under the cover of the witching hour.

Eventually, he lifted his head, and released Venus with one hand to wipe the tears away from his face. His Cyberlife jacket was long gone, replaced by a hoodie he’d scrounged up from somewhere, too big and unmarked. His LED blinked miserable yellow, in plain sight.

Some people do, Venus whispered. Coleen did. Now I make other people want to, like her family made her.

“I suppose I couldn’t hurt anybody there,” Connor murmured, unfocused eyes gazing down at Venus’, which stared back up at him, blank and worn pale, lips pursed in the faintest of innocent smiles. “That would be a relief all on its own. I would never hurt anybody ever again.” He hesitated, but this was Venus, and if he didn’t speak the thought would swallow him. “And nobody could hurt me.”

Not you, Venus said, breathy and soft. You’re not like them. You’re a cursed doll, like me.

“Oh,” Connor breathed, and he pulled Venus to his chest, cradled careful and kind. “That’s alright then.”

His tired gaze stared out over the city from the parking garage rooftop where he stood. He found he wasn’t as frightened of heights as he had been once.

-------------

Connor washed Venus eventually, as gentle as his well-calibrated hands could manage, soap and water in a public bathroom. The very oldest stains, the old blood soaked into her back, didn’t wash away, but years of dirt and dust turned the water grey and swirled down the drain. It didn’t brighten her outfit to a new color, but it was a faded pastel lavender that Connor had learned to find more comforting than almost anything else in the world.

He patted her dry with the paper towels, ignored the humans that edged around him, and sighed softly when not all of the moisture came up so easily.

“I could set you in the sun for a while,” Connor murmured, lifting her and setting her in the crook of his elbow, body half turned in to his. He set the bottle against her wrist and it did not fall, and then straightened her crooked cap. “That would likely dry away the last of the moisture before you mildewed; the sun is bright today.”

Venus did not reply, but Connor nodded anyway, stepping outside and slipping away from the slight crowds and into darker, more remote alleyways with all the haste he could manage.

He’d been on his own for months now; spring was in full swing, and much of the rain had petered off, along with almost all of the snow. That was much of why he had chosen to wash Venus today – the weather was near-optimal for helping her dry.

“I could have waited until summer, and this part would have been easier,” he said to her, quiet, “but then you would have been dirty for much longer, and I’m certain that can’t be pleasant.”

He’d found a decommissioned ship to stay in for that week, not too terribly far from where Jericho had been, but not so close that it seemed disrespectful either. Finding places to stay had become easier as the habit developed, and soon he would be able to reuse old locations without arousing fresh suspicion.

Connor still avoided people as much as he could – androids more than humans, but humans still as much as he feasibly could. He felt- anxious, unwelcome, wary around others.

Fortunately, others felt wary around him as well. Or more specifically, around Venus.

He found a sunny spot within the rusty ship and Venus down carefully. “There. That should do.”

Thank you, Venus breathed. I haven’t been clean in so long.

Connor smiled faintly, reaching out to brush his fingers over the violet cap. “Of course. It’s the very least I could do.” He tilted his head back, looking at the sky. “I’ve never seen a spring before. It’s… nice, to see the flowers bloom.” He swallowed. “Except the roses. I don’t know why, but the roses make me feel ill.” He glanced at Venus. “I’m an android. I don’t get ill.”

I have seen many springs, Venus whispered to him. They always bring a new year.

“I don’t need a new year,” Connor said before he could think better of it. “All I need is… is this. I’m okay if it stays like this forever.” The thought of before made his breath catch, and the thought of what may lay ahead made him shiver.

You’ll get one anyway, Venus said. But you can make it the same if you want.

“I do,” Connor said fervently. “I’d mess up anything else I tried. I always have.”

Venus did not reply, and Connor fell silent, hunched down on himself again, and watched the progress of evaporating moisture instead. He already wanted to pick up and hold Venus again, but he wanted to make sure she dried properly first.

He didn’t want her to wear down any more than he could prevent. He didn’t know what he’d do if she fell apart.

----------

Between his own capabilities and Venus’ own, Connor made it clear from November to June before encountering anyone he knew. But Markus, it turned out, was made of stronger stuff than that.

Connor woke up to rabbit heartbeat pounding in his chest, eyes already wide before he understood what was happening; a stranger had entered the condemned apartment complex where he’d spent the last week, and as he sat up, he met their eyes.

Markus stared back, rigid and understandably wary, but standing steady in his place with his hand clenched tight around the doorframe.

Connor pushed himself carefully back, just half a foot, without pausing to think about it. He couldn’t bring himself to speak. His hand found Venus, always within easy reach, and he pulled her tight against himself, internal ventilation kicking up a notch as if already threatening to overheat. He didn’t stand.

Markus’ eyes flicked briefly to the doll, and then settled on Connor again, noticeably dimmer, as if sad despite the tension that still wracked his frame.

“Connor,” Markus said, soft and gentle, the way one spoke to an injured animal. And then, impossibly, he smiled, more reassuring than happy but a surprise either way. Connor stared at him. “You’re a hard man to find.”

He slid in, slow and easy to follow with no sudden movements, but Connor scooted a little farther away anyway, eyes wide. Markus lowered himself to the ground, crouching but not sitting, and didn’t let his smile fall.

“Lieutenant Anderson has been asking after you,” Markus continued, quiet. “He seems to think you’ll show up in Jericho sooner or later. Whether or not you do is up to you, of course.”

Connor took a breath, short and sharp. The hand still on the ground came up to cradle the back of Venus’ head, holding her tighter against himself, and he knew it made him look a little deranged but he felt slightly deranged, so it was fine.

Markus’ voice became, impossibly, softer. “Your absence has been noted, I should say. Those you brought from Cyberlife Tower, in particular, have missed you. I’m sure they would welcome your company, and perhaps your guidance, should you offer.”

Perhaps involuntarily, Markus’ gaze flickered around the room – the worn walls, the recently rearranged furniture. It was a temporary dwelling, for Connor, and it showed. Markus frowned, and Connor’s rusty social routines said, worry.

“And I have been curious as well,” Markus added. “I know you weren’t yourself as a machine, Connor �� no one is. It isn’t fair that you’re being blamed for the sins you couldn’t help.”

Connor shuddered quietly, and spoke for the first time. “It was never about what was fair.”

Markus paused, visibly surprised, and met Connor’s eyes.

“I suppose not,” Markus agreed after a moment. “Still, I’m sorry you had to suffer for it.”

Connor shrugged. Markus hardly knew the whole of it, anyway.

Markus smiled at him, small and strained. “Will you at least consider coming by, Connor? I’d consider it a personal favor – I’ve been worried, I must admit.”

His dual-toned eyes were too intense. He seemed sincere.

Connor hesitated, and then slowly moved to sit cross-legged, set Venus in his lap and looked at her because he couldn’t bear to look at Markus for a moment longer.

“I don’t know if I should,” he murmured to Venus, knowing Markus could hear him but unable to keep himself from speaking anyway. “I’m not welcome in Jericho, nor should I be – my sins as a machine can’t be wiped away by simple time, and they’ll be afraid and they won’t be wrong.” He paused. “But perhaps I can help, if I really try. If they want me to. Don’t I owe them that?”

Venus did not reply; she never did around others. Regardless, Connor knew what her response would be. This was Connor’s choice alone – Venus went where she was taken.

He picked Venus up again, tucked her against his chest behind crossed arms, and looked at Markus, who watched him expectantly, a faint furrow in his brow.

“Did Lieutenant Anderson really ask after me?”