Conner was completely, undeniably happy with you.
And the softest part of all?
He tried.
He really, genuinely tried to understand everything about your species—Viltrumites.
Where Tim approached it like a puzzle to solve, Conner treated it like something to learn because it mattered to you.
He asked questions.
Listened carefully.
Repeated things out loud just to make sure he got them right.
He even made Tim organize an actual folder with all the information you’d given—because, according to him, “Tim makes things look smarter.”
And honestly?
You never complained.
If anything, you found it… kind of adorable.
The way he’d sit there, nodding seriously while writing things down—sometimes even the smallest, most pointless details.
—"So your body temperature runs a little higher than human baseline… okay, got it—important," he’d mumble while writing.
—"That’s not really important," you’d point out.
—"Everything about you is important," he’d reply without even looking up.
…yeah.
You never had the heart to tell him to stop.
But—
There was one detail you forgot.
One very specific, very important detail.
Conner was flying over the skies of Chicago, heading straight to you.
He looked relaxed, completely at ease, lazily weaving through the air as he hummed under his breath. Every now and then he waved at other heroes passing by, exchanging casual greetings mid-flight like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Everything was calm.
Peaceful.
Routine.
And then—
Impact.
—"Woah!"
The word slipped out of Conner’s mouth as something—someone—crashed straight into him with enough force to throw him slightly off balance midair.
He steadied himself quickly, reflexes kicking in as his arms moved on instinct, catching whatever had collided with him.
Blinking, he looked down—
And froze.
It was you.
Clinging to him.
Too close.
Too tight.
His eyebrows shot up immediately, confusion flashing across his face.
—"Hey—what’s going on? Are you—"
He didn’t finish.
Because you spoke first.
—"Please…"
Your voice was breathless.
Unsteady.
Not like yourself.
—"…I need help—"
You were flushed. Your grip on him tense, almost trembling, your breathing uneven against his chest.
And then—
—"…please, I want you—"
The words came out rushed, unfocused, like you were struggling to even explain what was happening.
Conner went completely still.
He looked you up and down, taking in your state. Breathing in ragged gasps, cheeks flushed...
You looked like an animal in… heat!?