Titans Imagines & Preferences

like you - conner kent

The sun dips below the city skyline, casting long shadows in your bedroom. You can't help but think about how much you want to become a hero, like your boyfriend, Conner. You tried to bring it up with him once but he immediately shut you down, not wanting to continue the conversation any further. Since then, you haven't tried to bring it up again. Until now.

As you sit on the edge of the bed, you wait anxiously for Conner to come into the room. Conner opens the door and walks in, looking tired after a long day, evident by the dark circles under his eyes. "Look, Conner, I get this might not be the best time but we need to talk about something," you say, not wanting to put this conversation off for any longer.

Conner glances at you with a mixture of exhaustion and concern. "Can't it wait? I've had a rough day and I'm not in the mood for this," he replies, starting to head towards the bathroom. You stand up, determined to address what's been bothering you for so long. "No, Conner, it can't wait. This is important to me and all I want is for you to just hear me out."

Conner stops in his tracks, turning to face you with a sigh. "Fine. Just tell me what it is so we can get it over with," he responds.

Taking a deep breath, you meet Conner's gaze. "I know what you said last time but I still haven't changed my mind. I want to be a hero, like you. But I need your support with this because I can't do it alone."

Conner's expression tightens with a mix of frustration and worry. "Y/N, we've been through this before. I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt out there. It's not as glamorous as it seems, trust me," he says, his voice tinged with slight irritation.

"And I get where you're coming from but this is something that I want to do. I want to make a difference, just like you do," you state, your determination unwavering.

Conner runs a hand through his tousled hair, his exhaustion evident. "Have you even thought about the risks or the constant danger? You have to be more naive than I thought if you think I'm going to let you go out and risk your life just like that!" he exclaims.

You cross your arms, frustration building. "Okay, so what if I'm naive? At least I know what I want and I won't stop until I get it," you pause for a second but continue, "Conner, I'm willing to learn, to train. I just need you to believe in me."

"I said no, Y/N. This conversation ends here. I don't want to hear any more of your bullshit," he responds firmly, his tone leaving no room for any nonsense.

The room falls silent as Conner's words hang in the air. The tension between you is palpable as you say, "You know what? I don't care. I don't need your permission and you can't stop me."

Conner's jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow with frustration. "You're being reckless, Y/N. This isn't a game," he retorts, his voice rising. "I've seen the worst of it, and I won't let you just throw yourself into this lifestyle. It's dangerous, more than you can handle."

Even with Conner's words, you refuse to back down. "I can handle myself. I'm not as weak as you think." It's true though. Conner acts like you're this little 'damsel in distress' who can't fight her own fights. It's nice that he's trying to protect you but sometimes it's really unnecessary.

Conner's frustration boils over, and he raises his voice, "Y/N, you're not listening! This isn't about underestimating you; it's about knowing the reality of what it means to be a hero. It's not just about strength. It's about sacrifice, not that you would know. Y/N, if I say no, it means no. You're not doing it - for your own good."

You continue to stand your ground, a fire in your eyes. "I'm not going to live my life based on your fears. If I want to become a hero, I'm going to do it, Conner. The only reason I talked to you about this is so I could get some support or understanding from you but that's obviously not happening so I'm leaving," you say and then walk out of the room, frustration and determination fueling your steps. Conner watches you go, torn between worry and stubbornness.

The front door slams behind you, signalling to Conner that you've seriously left to god knows where. Conner stands alone in the room, frustration etched on his face. He runs a hand through his hair, the echo of the slamming door resonating in the silence.

As you make your way through the city streets, the cool night air does little to calm your nerves. The conversation with Conner replays in your mind, making you regret walking out on him. You know you shouldn't have left mid-argument but you couldn't keep going. You weren't going to change Conner's mind so what's the point?

Meanwhile, Conner paces the room, his mind wrestling with the conflict. He knows the dangers of the hero's life all too well, and the thought of you willingly stepping into that kind of danger gnaws at him. Despite the anger, there's a genuine concern for you.

A couple of hours later, Conner's worry intensifies as he realizes you haven't returned. He grabs his phone and dials your number, his frustration is evident in the way he anxiously taps his foot while waiting for you to answer. The phone rings in the quiet room as Conner anxiously waits for your response. Each passing second feels like an eternity, and he can't shake the worry that has settled in his chest.

After several unanswered calls, a wave of concern washes over him. Why aren't you answering? Is it the argument? Was he too harsh? Are you safe? Are you hurt?

On the other side of the city, you lie unconscious in a dark alley, a result of an unexpected encounter with a low-level villain whose name you don't know.

Conner's worry turns to panic as the realization hits him that something might have happened to you. Abandoning his frustration, he quickly puts on his jacket and dashes out of the apartment, determined to find you.

Back in the alley, you start to regain consciousness, feeling a dull ache in your head. As you open your eyes, the dimly lit surroundings come into focus, and you remember the encounter with the villain. You attempt to sit up but wince in pain.

Conner speeds through the city, his concern fueling his speed. He scans the streets, listening for any signs of distress. Finally, he hears a faint groan and rushes towards the source. Finding you in the alley, Conner's relief mixes with frustration. He kneels down beside you, gently checking for injuries. "Y/N, what were you thinking? I told you it's not safe out here," he scolds, his protective instincts taking over.

With a mixture of pain and frustration evident in your voice, you say, "I can take care of myself, Conner. I don't need you to-" Conner cuts you off, his tone stern. "Enough of this. We'll talk about it later. Right now, let's get you home and make sure you're okay." He carefully lifts you in his arms, carrying you back to the apartment.

As he sets you down gently on the couch, Conner can't help but let out a frustrated sigh. "I can't believe you pulled something like this. We'll discuss everything when you're feeling better, but for now, rest and let me take care of you."