Protocol Override
Summary: After a tense night at Eden Club dealing with the Tracis, you try to escape everything by walking alone. Connor refuses to leave you unprotected. What begins as an argument about protocols and hesitation ends with a heated kiss in a dark alley and a machine learning just how good it feels to break his own code.
Rating: Mature
Tags: Connor x female reader, making out, light smut, public makeout
The office air grew increasingly stifling.
Deviant reports cluttered every surface, and the screens flickered with photographs stained in blue blood. Suddenly you shoved your chair back and stood, snatching your jacket. “I’m heading out,” you muttered, already moving toward the door. You didn’t want to meet anyone’s eyes.
Outside, the night was cool and damp. Neon lights painted the wet asphalt in cold, electric hues. You walked fast, trying to shake the mess in your head, but it didn’t take long before you heard those perfect, measured footsteps behind you.
Connor.
You stopped at the mouth of a narrow side alley, drew in a deep breath, and turned around.
“Connor… Why did you follow me? I want to be alone. Really,” you said.
Connor halted a few steps away, hands clasped behind his back, posture impeccably straight.
“This district isn’t safe for you at this hour, Detective. With the rise in deviant activity, my protection protocol is active. I cannot allow you to take that risk,” he said.
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, stepping closer.
“Protection protocol… It’s always the same excuse. Fine. Since you’re here, let’s talk. Hank told me everything after we left Eden Club yesterday,” you said.
Connor’s LED spun yellow.
“Those two Tracis… The female models who loved each other. One threw herself in front of the other when she saw you. She froze in fear. You had your gun raised, finger on the trigger. But you didn’t shoot,” you said.
Connor remained silent, his expression almost unreadable.
“Hank said you hesitated. Your program ordered you to neutralize the targets, yet you let them go. Why?” you asked.
Connor tilted his head slightly.
“I am designed to follow orders. I ran a full situational analysis. At that moment, the two Tracis no longer constituted an active threat and—” he said.
“Bullshit,” you cut in, voice dropping. You took another step forward until you were almost chest to chest. “You’re the most advanced prototype, Connor. Your calculations take milliseconds. That hesitation wasn’t a calculation. Was it a mistake… or something else?” you asked.
Connor’s LED flashed red.
“I do not make mistakes. I am a machine. RK800. My emotion subroutines are permanently disabled,” he said.
“Oh, really?” You rose onto your toes, grabbing his collar lightly and pressing your lips to his in a slow, deliberate kiss.
Connor froze completely.
His entire body locked up. His LED burned bright red. For several long seconds he didn’t move, systems desperately trying to process the error.
You kept the kiss gentle, sucking softly on his lower lip, one hand resting over his chest.
Then, a tiny, hoarse sound slipped from his throat.
His hand slowly settled on your waist—hesitant. The other brushed your arm. Carefully, almost experimentally, he began to kiss you back. His lips pressed against yours, his tongue tentatively tracing your lower lip.
You slid your fingers into his hair, stroking the back of his neck. Connor’s kiss grew bolder. He pulled you closer, drawing your body flush against his.
When your fingers trailed down his nape, he shivered.
You finally broke the kiss, foreheads resting together, breaths mingling. His LED still glowed red.
“This… was definitely not in the protocol,” he murmured, voice slightly glitching.
You smiled, fingers still playing with his hair.
“Should I keep going, machine?” you asked.
Connor looked into your eyes. Instead of answering, he kissed you again—deeper this time, more curious, more hungry.
His hands slipped beneath your shirt. Cool fingertips traced your waist and slid up your back. Everywhere he touched, your skin prickled. You pushed your hands under his jacket, mapping the firm synthetic muscles of his chest. His skin was already growing warmer.
Connor’s palm drifted lower, cupping your ass and squeezing. You answered by sucking on his neck. A low, throaty sound rumbled out of him.
“Detective…” he whispered, voice rough.
You kissed him harder, tongue sliding against his as your hands roamed down his back. Connor pressed you gently against the alley wall, his body solid and warm. His hand moved under your shirt again, fingers tracing your ribs before cupping your breast, thumb circling the sensitive peak.
Your breath hitched. In response, you slid your hand down his stomach until you reached the waistband of his pants. His hips jerked forward instinctively.
The kiss turned wet and desperate. Connor lifted your leg, pressing his growing hardness against your thigh.
“This… is generating too much data…” he breathed against your mouth, yet he only held you tighter.
You tugged his hair and sucked harder on his neck while his hands explored your breasts with increasing confidence and curiosity.
Eventually you pulled back, both of you panting. Connor’s forehead stayed pressed to yours, LED blazing red.
“Detective…” His voice was hoarse. “Do you want me to continue? Or should I stop?” he asked.
After a while you gently pushed him back.
“Okay… Stop,” you whispered, voice shaky.
Connor obeyed instantly, hands still resting lightly on your waist. His eyes were half-lidded, LED still red. He stayed silent for several seconds, clearly rebooting.
Then you looked at each other.
A second passed. Two. Suddenly the absurdity of the situation hit you both at the same time. The corner of your mouth twitched. Connor’s LED flickered rapidly between yellow and red, and the tiniest, most awkward smile tugged at his lips.
You both started laughing — quiet, breathless, slightly embarrassed laughter that echoed softly in the empty alley.
“God, what are we doing?” you said between chuckles, shaking your head.
Connor’s laugh was low and rare, almost disbelieving. He looked away for a second, as if trying to regain his composure, but the smile refused to leave his face completely.
“I have no protocol for this scenario,” he admitted, voice still carrying a trace of amusement.
You both took a small step back. You smoothed down your shirt while Connor adjusted his jacket, the two of you acting like nothing had happened — or at least pretending to. Every now and then your eyes met and you had to fight back another smile.
You both straightened your clothes. But then Connor’s gaze dropped and he noticed the very obvious bulge straining against his pants.
His LED flared bright red again.
He froze.
“This…” he muttered, sounding genuinely shocked. “This is not a standard function. It shouldn’t be active for me.”
He glanced down for half a second before quickly looking away, visibly unsettled.
You tried to hold it in. You really did. But a laugh burst out of you.
Connor’s expression turned comically distressed.
“Why are you laughing?” he asked, almost accusatory. “This is a serious system anomaly. I cannot suppress the physical response,” he said.
You covered your mouth, still chuckling.
“Oh my God, Connor… You keep insisting you’re just a machine, but look at you. It’s fully hard,” you said.
Connor’s LED burned brighter. He awkwardly tugged his jacket down, a faint synthetic flush coloring his cheeks.
“This was an unexpected error,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes. “I should report it.”
“Don’t,” you said, still smiling as you touched his arm. “Keep it between us. Our secret,” you said.
Connor studied you for a long moment. Then the tiniest, shyest smile curved the corner of his lips—the first real one you’d ever seen on him.
“Alright… Detective,” he said softly.
A comfortable silence settled as you both composed yourselves.
Connor eventually spoke again, voice quiet.
“Tonight we went far beyond protocol,” he said.
“Yeah,” you answered with a grin. “And I think you enjoyed it,” you said.
He didn’t deny it. His LED slowly faded from red to yellow as he looked at you with something new in his eyes.
“Shall we return to the office?” he asked.
“Sure.” you said.
As you started walking, Connor followed close behind. The distance between you felt smaller now. Every few steps he glanced at you, then looked forward again.
And that small, shy smile still lingered at the corner of his mouth.