HEY HEY CAN I REQUEST ANYTHING FLUFFY W CONNOR X FEM READER
YOU WORK IS SO GOODDD
MY DARLINGS FORGIVE ME
requests started coming in hot right as i started my midterms so pls forgive me for taking so long to get through my requests (which i'm loving btw i'm so excited to get to all of them)
with that being said i'll stop yapping and let you read in peace
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framed
pairing: connor (rk800) x gn!reader
summary: you're very confused when you find a photograph of yourself on connor's desk.
word count: 1k
warnings: none
author's note: i said i'm done yapping and i mean it i have nothing to say. (except i do wanna say this was inspired by the person that said my connor was very you are in love coded bc that made me happy and got me thinking)
masterlist ⟡ requests
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“What do androids do in their free time, anyway?”
“Plot against humanity? I dunno.”
Hank’s laugh came out in a quiet huff, one that indicated he didn’t think your answer was too far from the truth.
You had come into the precinct hoping to interview Hank and Connor on their latest investigation surrounding a human cult determined to wipe out every single android. As head journalist for the Detroit Free Press, you were desperate to get word before everyone else. And as Connor’s friend, you were sure you could sweet-talk it out of him.
But when you got to the precinct, Connor was, strangely, nowhere to be found. Usually, he trailed behind Hank like a lost puppy, but not even Hank knew of Connor’s whereabouts. His unusual absence only led to conversations about what the hell an android could be doing on his lonesome. Neither of you had any clue.
“Have a seat, kid,” Hank offered, nudging his chin over to Connor’s desk. “You know he’d feel bad if you were standin’ around waiting for him.”
Rounding the table, you took a seat in Connor’s chair. You sat stiffly with your hands atop your thighs, the exact same way Connor would. The realization made you chuckle softly to yourself. Even when he wasn’t here, his presence always made itself known in the subtlest of ways.
Your eyes wandered across Connor’s desk, noticing that it was relatively barren. Hank’s desk was littered with mementos– old donut boxes, Detroit Gears merchandise, anti-android propaganda that he’d crumpled up and intended to trash. But Connor’s desk was plain and organized. A single blue pen sat exactly parallel to his recent case file that had been neatly folded. On top of his case file was a quarter like the one he always fidgeted with. You wondered idly how many quarters he had lying around, having never seen him without one. But the only belonging of actual interest was a picture frame right beside his terminal.
Your brows furrowed as your gaze latched onto the photograph. You were staring directly at a picture of yourself.
Believing it to be a trick of the light, you reached for the picture frame and brought it closer. Sure enough, it was you.
You stared at a version of yourself who was mid-laugh. You could almost hear your own laughter ringing in your ears. It was that genuine kind of laughter, you knew. The kind that was an obnoxious cackle you always wanted to hide. Why on earth would Connor have a picture like that framed?
Come to think of it, where did Connor even get this picture? You didn’t recognize it at all. You couldn’t even place where it was taken. There were zero clues in the photograph as you were the only focus. Nothing else, just you.
You were about to ask Hank about it when a voice over your shoulder startled you, “I really like that picture.”
An inhuman yelp escaped your lips as you spun around in Connor’s chair. You found him looking down at you with a pleasant smile, not even remotely embarrassed to be caught having a photo of you.
“Why… what even… what?” you stammered.
Connor cocked his head curiously, waiting for you to get your words out. But you couldn’t. You were so utterly confused that your brain couldn’t remember a single word in existence. You just stared at Connor with a gaping mouth, holding the picture up for his viewing pleasure.
When you didn’t say anything, Connor’s eyebrows furrowed for only a moment before easing. An endearing habit of his that made your heart flutter. He definitely was not helping you find the right words.
“I’d like to clear your confusion as best I can, but… I’m afraid I don’t understand its cause,” Connor said gently.
From behind, you heard Hank’s quiet snort. He wasn’t helping either.
“Well… Connor,” you started slowly like you were gradually putting the puzzle pieces together. No matter how hard you tried, the pieces weren’t fitting. “Why do you have a picture of me?”
The corners of his lips raised into a small grin, his hands moving to clasp in front of him. You knew this stance to mean he was about to tell a story.
“I asked Lieutenant Anderson about the keepsakes on his desk. I was curious as to why these particular items were objects of significance and what classified them as such,” Connor explained cheerfully. “As I recall, he said ‘I don’t know, they’re just alright, I guess.’ Perhaps my interpretation was incorrect, but I took that to mean those items made him happy.”
Connor’s smile widened slightly. That meant he was finished. He didn’t clear any of your confusion.
“Okay…?” you prompted.
“I wanted to do something similar. I thought it could help me accommodate to deviancy, so I decided to surround myself with things that make me happy.”
Your mouth clamped shut as your confused look turned to one of shock. You were almost sure you hadn’t heard him right, but another laugh (hidden behind a cough) from Hank made you confident that you had.
“I… make you happy?” you clarified.
“Yes,” Connor answered curtly. There was another long pause as you waited for Connor to continue. He seemed to get the hint by now, elaborating further. “I always enjoy your company. I look forward to seeing you when we have scheduled plans. This wasn’t a scheduled visit, so I was pleased to see you were here. It made me smile. Seeing you makes me smile.”
With all his talk of smiling, you couldn’t help cracking one of your own. Seeing your smile made Connor brighten.
“Like that,” he said. “If I could photograph and frame you right now, I would.”
You were so giddy with affection that you couldn’t help but laugh. You had never known Connor to be so poetic with his words.
“You know, Connor,” you said with careless laughter. “I came here to sweet-talk you into an interview for the Press. But here you are sweet-talking me.”
Connor looked pleased with himself, standing a little straighter. “I hope that made you smile.”
Not dark but sitting on Connor’s face for shameless saturday? 💦
your hips gyrated on connor's face in slow movements. the scruff of his beard tickled your clit whenever you circled back around and each time, you whimpered from the touch.
his hands wrapped around and cupped your thighs down, eager to taste more of your wetness on his tongue.
"more connor, please." you moaned and he groaned in response when you paused right over his tongue, which he shoved in and out of your cunt in a ruthless motion.
just from his touch, his face and your thighs were covered in the juices slicking down your skin."
feels so good, gonna come soon." you murmured and leaned back to smooth his hair in a comforting gesture while he continued to tongue fuck your hole.
Prompt: In this universe, you are supposed to receive a tattoo of your soulmate’s name on your 18th birthday. However, you being the lucky winner, never received one on that special day. After years go by, you began to accept the fact that maybe you were never destined to have a soulmate until one day, on August 5th, 2038, you see a certain individual’s name gets written on your wrist. Not only is it odd that your soulmate tattoo wasn’t given to you on your 18th birthday but that in reality, your soulmate isn’t even human.
Word Count: 1749 words
A/N: Hi friends! I’m back with another part! Just an FYI, I skipped through “The Nest” chapter since I didn’t think it really fit with how I wanted the characters to develop so we are just going to pretend that never happened. I’ve also skipped through some other chapters from the game that I thought were too boring and I really don’t want to bore you guys. This part and the next one are going to be kind of slow but I swear it will pick up a little....hopefully...I don’t know.
Feedback is always appreciated and I know this part sucked so nitpick all you want! (I need it because writing is really not my strong suit).
Connor was facing a dilemma. He knew what his purpose was, how he was supposed to hunt deviants and search for their source of deviancy. He also knew that he was a machine, a machine who was not supposed to feel emotions or disobey his master. However, the moment he met you, everything seemed to change within him. He no longer truly knew what he was or how he was supposed to act. For the first time ever, he did not know what to do.
Connor opened his eyes and was met with the sight of the peaceful Zen Garden. The words, “Talk to Amanda” appeared at the corner of his eye. Connor looked around the area before landing on Amanda’s figure standing on the center island by a wall of roses. He slowly made the walk to her while trying to formulate proper sentences which would not upset her nor make him lose her trust.
Once Connor had reached a comfortable speaking distance from her, he introduced himself, “Hello Amanda.”
Amanda looked over her shoulder before replying, “Connor, it’s good to see you.”
Amanda smiled at him before snipping off a flower in front of her. She proceeded to congratulate Connor on successfully locating the deviant as well as properly extracting a confession. She also praised Connor for his achievements while also asking a series of questions of what he has discovered along the way.
Amanda paused for a moment as she sprayed her flowers with water. Connor had hoped that their conversation would be over so he wouldn’t have to face any more of her questioning, especially ones involving you.
“Both Lieutenant Anderson and Officer (Y/L/N) have been assigned to the deviancy cases. What do you make of them?”
Connor paused for a moment, carefully thinking of what to say. “Lieutenant Anderson seems a bit dysfunctional. He clearly has some personal issues which impact his professional behavior. He also seems to want to have nothing to do with this investigation or Androids overall.”
“Unfortunately, we have no other choice but to work with him,” she replied, “What about the other?”
Connor paused once more, but this time, he was taking more time to properly say what he wanted to say without upsetting Amanda. But what could he say? He couldn’t tell her that he hasn’t stopped thinking about you since last night or that the image of your smile was engraved in his mind. After careful thought, Connor spoke again, “She seems to be very invested in her work, unlike her coworker. However, she also seems to be troubled by something, more troubled the moment I introduced myself to her. Overall, she’s a very intriguing character and I wish to learn more about her.”
Amanda stopped what she was doing and slowly turned around to face Connor. “More and more androids are showing signs of deviancy. If they are not stopped, destruction and chaos will occur. You are the only one who can stop this outcome. There are no room for...distractions,” she ended, clearly referencing Connor’s description of you.
Connor nodded as he watched Amanda walk away.
You anxiously tapped your fingers on your thigh as you sat on your couch. You kept glancing over at your phone which sat face down on the coffee table, taunting you with its presence. You were eager to call Hank and talk to him about the events of last night and what it had felt like to meet Connor; however, you were worried about how he would react which kept you from making the call.
After a few more minutes of you contemplating whether or not to bother your easily-annoyed coworker, you picked up the phone and pressed the dial button on his profile.
“Hello?” Hank asked.
“Do you think, and I’m asking out of full curiosity, it’s possible for someone’s soulmate to be an android?” you asked without warning.
“What?” Hank asked.
“Do you think it’s possible for someone’s soulmate to be an android?”
“Hell no, Androids aren’t alive; they aren’t meant to have soulmates. Wait, why are you even asking this?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable with your question.
“Think about it Hank, my tattoo says Connor, my soulmate tattoo says Connor. The next Connor I meet just happens to be an Android detective working with us, this has to mean something.”
“Oh hell no, you don’t actually think that that plastic cop is your soulmate do you?”
“Just hear me out Hank,” you replied.
“Look kiddo, I don’t have time for this,” he said as he threatened to end the call.
“Hank!” you exclaimed, stopping him from doing so, “just listen.”
You heard Hank sigh through the phone before he replied, “Continue.”
“Last night, when I met Connor, it wasn’t like I was just meeting another Android, it was like I was meeting another human being. And, I don’t know, I just can’t stop thinking about him, how he acts, how he talks. It’s like I’m a teenager all over again experiencing a first crush or something and it’s driving me insane. Last night was the first time I’ve felt like that with anyone in a very long time and I can’t just ignore it,” you said.
Hank stayed silent for a couple of seconds as he processed everything that you had just said. “Please say something,” you begged, worried of what Hank might think.
“I don’t buy it,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think the universe made you wait this long for a fucking Android. You deserve better than that,” he replied.
Before you could object, Hank had already ended your call, clearly thinking that you were delusional. You leaned your head back against your seat while running your fingers through your hair in frustration. Maybe you were crazy and maybe you were in over your head; however, nothing else could explain these rush of feelings from the night before.
The next time you ran into Connor was later that night when you heard someone knock on the front door to your apartment. You carefully put down your cup of tea before getting up from your seat to answer the door. You truly did not expect to see Connor standing at your door.
“Hi Connor,” you said with a bit of surprise, “What’s up?”
Connor looked at you up and down for a split second, noticing how you had on black rimmed glasses for a -1.00 prescription and you were wearing comfortable loungewear.
“Hello Officer, sorry to bother you so late. I have just received word of another deviancy case just downtown and wanted to inform you. I also thought it would be better if you were with me before I talked to Lieutenant Anderson.”
You smiled and nodded before replying, “Come in, just give me five minutes.”
You took a few steps back, opening the door wider, allowing Connor to walk in. Connor looked around your home thinking to himself that it was very cozy and comfortable for one person (maybe even two).
“I’ll be right back, but make yourself at home,” you said before retreating to your bedroom to get dressed.
Connor took this opportunity to learn more about you, in hopes to better his relationship with you. The first thing that caught his eye was the lonesome white mug on your island which was still steaming. Connor took a second to analyze the contents of the cup. He noticed that you had brewed a cup of tea, assuming it was your favorite, with exactly 15 grams of sugar.
Connor exited your kitchen and came across a photo album which sat in the middle of your coffee table. He picked up the book and noticed a photo of you and Hank with the words, “Happy Birthday” engraved on its cover.
Connor opened the book and flipped through the photos of you and your presumed close friends at the DPD and various locations in Detroit, all of which had you in mid laughter or with a huge smile on your face. Connor found your smile so charming and genuine. He lightly traced the outline of your face with his fingertips, the edges of his mouth turning slightly upwards. He was so captivated by your photo that he failed to notice you had already left your room and was standing next to him.
“What are you looking at?” you asked as you tried to tame the stray hairs on your head and pull them in a proper ponytail.
“I was-I was just looking at your photo album,” Connor said, somewhat startled by your presence.
You laughed slightly before placing your hand on his shoulder, “Sorry for scaring you.”
Connor quickly glanced at your hand, the warmth of your fingers seemed to burn through his skin.
“Do you want to see something funny?” you asked, snapping Connor out of his thoughts.
Connor nodded slightly before handing the photo album to you. You quickly flipped to a certain page of the album and pointed at a picture of you and Hank. Connor studied the picture for a bit, trying to understand the situation.
“Is that Lieutenant Anderson,” he paused, “in a crab costume?”
You laughed inwardly before replying, “Yes, yes it is. This picture was taken on Halloween and we made a bet the night before. Basically, if the Detroit Gears beat the Boston Celtics, I would have to wear a ridiculous costume of his choice; however, if the Celtics won, Hank would have to wear a crab costume. Guess who won,” you said in between laughs.
Although Connor did find Hank’s appearance to be very entertaining, he was completely drawn to your laugh. The pictures he had seen in your booklet did not truly capture the beauty of your smile. The way your eyes crinkled up, how your eyes literally lit up, and how the sound of your laugh was very pleasant to listen to, almost like a melody. Your laughter made Connor begin to smile and for the first time, he had experienced genuine happiness.
SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^
“Anyways,” you said before your eyes met with Connor’s.
You both froze for a brief second getting lost in each other's eyes. After a few seconds, you shook your head slightly and cleared your throat, breaking the silence between the two of you. You closed the photo album in your hand and placed it back in its original position.
“Ready to go?” you asked Connor.
Connor nodded before following you out of your apartment and into the cold night air of Detroit.
Your voice sounds so soft to you that you wonder whether you’ve even said anything. If Connor’s response is anything to go by, you might as well not have.
He stands in your living room, eyes unfocused, and though you can’t see much of his face from you position at the doorway you can certainly see his LED. Its frozen someplace between a pensive yellow and a perilous red.
“Connor” you press, taking a tentative step into the room. His body jumpstarts and he takes a step back so that you can see him. He looks at you for only a moment, before his head drops. On anybody else the action might seem like defeat, on Connor it looks like a preparation for something you can’t quite work out. He pulls his arms back, slides his thumbs under the belt of his jeans and throws his head back up. His lips are pressed thin and his slender neck is pulled taut.
“what?” he asks, turning his head away from you. The action allows you to see his LED again, flashing madly and dominated with red and yellow as bright blue streaks flicker and fade briefly. He’s trying to hide his distress.
“something’s happened” you push. Taking a step forward has never felt so hard before. It’s like every particle in the room has been frozen still whilst they wait for Connor to break.
“nothing’s happened” Connor corrects you, his tone just slightly too forceful, causing you to stop your slow journey towards him. Connor looks at you quickly again.
“Sorry” the apology only just pushes past his lips.
“well you’re angry. Something must have happened today” you push, craning your head forwards expectantly.
Connor makes a noise like a grunt, rolling his shoulders backwards and reaching up to slide the tie from his neck.
“It’s just difficult at the DPD sometimes. It feels like nobody understands who I am and what I can do” he watches his hands as he winds his tie around his knuckles in restrained fury “nobody takes me seriously”
“life can be unfair like that sometimes” you say, coming up in front of him and taking his hands in yours “but that doesn’t mean you should put up with it”
Connor stills, watching as you sooth his fidgety fingers. Gently you rub the ridges of his knuckles in silence. The pregnant tension in the room dissolves as you continue your ministrations and finally Connor rocks forward slightly, desperate for closeness. Of course, you oblige.
“Sometimes I hate humans” Connor growls lowly. You breathe a laugh, despite the sentiment he sounds so human.
“Surely not all humans” you smile, slipping your nail under the top button of his work shirt. Entranced, Connor watches as you expertly work the second button open as well, exposing the ridge of his perfectly crafted collarbone. He tilts his head back just a fraction, a silent but hopeful invitation.
“No, not all humans” he says as you lay a warm kiss against his synthetic skin.
“That’s good to know” you murmur as your lips trail up towards his neck, your smile leaving a burning pathway to his jawline.
Something like a whine slips unconsciously from Connors mouth as he brings his free hand up to cradle the back of your head. He shyly turns his head down, allowing your lips to skim over the shell of his ear and you swear your hear his biocomponents lurch. Spurred on by his response you sneak a hand up to nestle within his hair and pull, capturing the delicate lobe between your teeth.
“because that would be very unfortunate” you add innocently as Connor’s body involuntarily rocks against yours.
In that moment you wish you had Connor’s memory. He’s frozen, head tilted back even though you’ve stopped pulling. His mouth is just slightly open, and his eyes are tightly shut, for a moment you’re unsure of what to do next.
Connor doesn’t let you worry for much longer though, slowly he brings his head down to face you and you're entirely paralysed. His deep eyes sear holes into your soul and shyly you drop your hand from his hair.
Connor applies pressure now on the back of your head, pulling you towards him. The tension in the room has returned, and somehow Connor has turned it on you. You're entirely trapped against him.
For Tuesday and it kinda goes with leaving for Connor Rhodes. So you can write it if you want where he and the reader are wrapped up in the sheets and discussing what to do next
the sheets were dangerously laying on your hip line and tangled between your legs. it was hot in the room with connor's body heat as well.
but he didn't mind with the arm he had wrapped around your body and hands massaging your breasts.
"so..." connor trailed off, paused and just held them in his hands.
you turned your head to look into his eyes, "so...what now?" you chuckled, knowing he wanted to ask the question and instead spun it on him.
connor pulled you closer to leave a kiss on your neck and mumbled against your skin. "now you pack your things and come with me."
Request: Connor’s first kiss with the reader and how he reacts to it--especially since it’s his first kiss ever.
The first time Connor thinks about kissing someone, it’s because he saw it on television. More specifically its because he was out with you, doing some errands in the Detroit city center, and caught a moment of something--an ad, a movie trailer, he wasn’t entirely sure--but it caught his eyes for some reason or another. He saw the couple on the screen, silhouetted by a sunset and gazing deep into one another’s eyes.
He saw them kiss, lips pressing passionately to the other’s, sharing a tender moment that looked as warm as Connor thought it must have felt. It was like staring at something he shouldn’t--something intimate. It had only been maybe a few seconds at most, so he had quickly turned his focus back on you, his hand firmly in yours.
But the notion stuck in Connor’s thoughts. It clung to him like glue, making him remember the scene with every time his eyes glanced over your face--your lips.
What would it be like to kiss you?
In spare moments of free time, he started to do his own research on the matter; what was kissing, anyway? Perhaps if he could understand it on a technical level, it could help him figure out all of the feelings that went through his mind whenever he thought about kissing you.
...The research didn’t really help. He already knew about hormones, already understood it was connected to sexual desire--Connor knew all those things but he wanted most was to know how it felt and why he wanted it so, so much.
There was only one true way to figure it out, Connor supposed.
So he asked you.
He asked you when the two of you were alone together--when you were sitting in the living room, when the stress of the day had already faded into obscurity, when Connor couldn’t ignore the desire that laced through his mind every single time he looked at you.
“Can I kiss you?”
He remembered you looking at him for a moment, confusion blossoming into amusement and sweet warmth when you replied, almost breathlessly, yes.
From there it felt like he didn’t have control of himself--he leaned into you as you to him, felt his lips touch yours. It was...awkward at first. Connor had only several videos of kissing to work with as research, so he focused on trying to emulate what he had seen.
But then you reached your hands up and pressed your palms to his cheek, held him still and kissed him--he felt light-headed, his thoughts a mess as, in the moment, he felt warm.
The kiss was so simple of an action--a touch of lips of one person to another, he didn’t understand how it could be such an important concept. And yet, when he fell into the moment, felt your hand on his cheek, Connor felt his mind nearly go haywire. It was addicting, it was thrilling, it made him so--so happy--so happy that he wanted to laugh or smile or wrap his arms tight around you and never let go.
He knew at that moment what a kiss felt like--what it was like to press his lips to yours and feel your closeness for even a moment of time.
Can I prompt Connor smiling? Bryan Dechart (Connor's actor) has a gorgeous smile, but I can't remember Connor smiling even once! Maybe s/o's first time seeing Connor's smile? Just an idea, since you said that you'd be down to receive some. :)
It happened out of nowhere. You and Connor had been talking, idle conversation filling the air between you both as the evening ticked on by. There was no chore to be done, no case to be worked, no stress to be felt for one blissful afternoon for either of you--it was simply a chance to talk with one another.
You had been looking into a magazine for a while, skimming over a few articles that had caught your eye, so you don’t know exactly what had made it happen. Was it your little joke about the weather? Was it your laughter at his loving sarcasm? Was it when you felt his fingertips stroke the curve of your shoulder?
Was it when the two of you whispered ‘I love you’ as easily as it was to breathe?
You simply didn’t know when it happened. For some reason simply felt the need to lift your eyes from the tablet and look at the composed man sitting beside you. And when you did, you saw him smiling.
A genuine, wide, warm smile.
It makes you pause as your eyes glimpse over his lips. He looks so calm, without a care in the world--it’s a lovely look for him, though you’re confused at the fact that it seems odd and almost out-of-place on him. Had you ever seen him truly smile before this?
Connor’s smile faded for but a moment as concern took over.
“Are you alright?” he asked quickly, brows furrowing together. It broke your attention, the shift in his features, and made you think up a response that would save face.
“Oh--yeah, I’m fine,” you try to laugh it off, face a bit warm from staring at his mouth so acutely. “I just...I like it when you smile.”
That was accurate enough.
Connor blinked and moved a hand to his mouth, as if his fingertips could figure out more to your question and intent by caressing over his lips. He chuckled after a moment, smile quick to return to his face with a single raised brow in turn.
Amusement twinkled in his soft eyes.
“I better smile more often then, if it makes you happy.”
May I request a short fluffy thing where Connor plays a prank on the reader in the fashion of that one Bryan Dechart gif/video?
“So, why do you still have that?”
The question felt a little rude--almost like asking someone why they were wearing pajamas at a convenience store, or maybe why someone was wearing long sleeves in the middle of summer. Honestly, it really wasn’t your business to ask an android about their LED, especially when that android was your not-quite-but-really romantic partner who had just recently obtained his civil freedom as a, well, a person.
Connor at least didn’t seem perturbed by it. If anything, he looked confused, surprised for a moment, then was suddenly aware at where your eyes were looking as you sat beside him.
“Oh?” he glanced to the side, knowing very well that he wouldn’t be able to see his external LED but the gesture expressed it all the same. “What do you mean by that?”
You felt ashamed for a moment and simply shrugged.
“With what happened, I noticed some have taken them off--” you took a quick moment to make sure your words were phrased correctly, lest you make an even bigger and ruder fool of yourself. “--since, well, it was only required because of a stupid law some years ago--I mean...er...”
Connor simply tilted his head, but the gentle curve at the corners of his lips gave away his thoughts even before he spoke.
“I...did not think about it, honestly.”
He paused for a moment, silent, thinking to himself--you could see the telltale yellow whirling in the very LED on his temple.
And then, quite suddenly, Connor spoke again.
“I suppose I wouldn’t want to sacrifice any of its useful functions!” The android declared it like some important fact, and that alone caught you off-guard. His tone made you curious.
“What...kind of functions?” You thought back to what little you knew of deeper android body functions, though that knowledge was quite scant since you weren’t a worker in any of the related fields dealing with the mechanics of their anatomy.
You stared at the LED.
“.....Can I touch it? It’s like a button right?”
Connor looked pensive, but the moment was nothing more than a flash.
“Oh, go ahead!”
Caution overtook you for a moment. Connor sounded too....chipper? His answer was quick, but you equated that simply to his blinding speed of mental processing and raised a slow hand to the side of his face.
The tip of your finger pressed gently into the center of the glowing LED circle--
And Connor suddenly, completely, went still as a stone.
“C....Connor?”
He remained still, silent, neither blinking nor breathing for what must have been a solid minute.
“O-Oh my god,” fear suddenly filled your heart as the worst realization began to come over you. “Oh my god, oh my god Connor are you okay?”
Suddenly, the man turned his head (LED a twinkling blue) and smiled almost too widely.
“As fine as could be,” He laughed a moment as you blinked, fear still leaving you dumbstruck because you thought you powered off your goddamn boyfriend. “The LED is simply an outward representation of my processing--it has absolutely no functions beyond that and certainly not anything a mere button push could cause.”
His laugh continued, sounding so warm and organic--but all you could do was take in a deep breath and try to hit his shoulder with a loose fist.
“Dammnit, Connor!” The adrenaline slowly trickled out of your system as the words left your mouth. “Don’t--don’t do that to me!”
You decided the best punishment was to flop upon him, your arms wrapping tightly around his torso in a tight bear hug. Connor didn’t reject the notion. He wrapped his arms around you in turn, nuzzling his face into your hair.
“Sorry. I couldn’t help myself--It’s just something that’s apart of me and I don’t have a reason to get rid of it.”
