Celebrity Imagines

Conan Gray - Wish you were sober

- Conan Gray, GxB or BxB (y/n is never specified)-

605 words

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"Can you drive me home?" It was repetitive, you always did this. Inviting Conan to parties he didn't want to go to. Getting drunk and begging him to drive you home.
"I thought you said Rose was gonna drive you." 

"She left. It's fine, I can drive." 

"You're not driving." He insists. 

"I'll be fine." You slur your words together and grab the keys to your rover. Conan snatches them from your hands. It was clear he was set on not letting you drive. You had too much alcohol in your system. Plus you'd get pulled over, as your breath smelled like some cheap beer that someone probably stole. 

You grab his hand on your way out, so Conan doesn't run away. As if he would, parties certainly aren't his comfort crowd. He was only there for you. Between the two of you, you were more likely to run off. You'd end up with drink number who knows. 

So he holds on tight to your hand as you walk out. The music is blasting inside, way too loud but you can barely hear it once you get into your car. 

"I like you Conan." The words slip from your mouth by accident. It's true, but you wouldn't remember it by the next morning. 

"Sober up." His eyes stay glued to the road. It wasn't the first time you'd said this. You sigh and look over at him with puppy dog eyes. He liked you back. And by like I mean he was in love with you. 

The rest of the drive was quiet. Conan pulls into your driveway. He turns the car off but doesn't move. He just stares out the window, deciding if he should avoid what's about to happen. He never does. The high just felt too good, even if it leaves him distraught afterwards. 

"Cone, please." You look over at him, resting a hand on his chest. He mutters something under his breath that you can't seem to make out. "Hmm?" 

"Honestly? You always let me down Y/N. We're never gonna be anything when your not drunk. You shouldn't even drink, your 19!" The way he snaps at you catches you off guard. 

"That's not true..." Your words slur and you lean over the center console, kissing your best friend. If he thought your breath was bad earlier, tasting beer on your lips is way worse. By the time you lean back and smile at him, he's already fallen under your spell, again. 

"Y/N..." He protests, with no real intention to stop you from kissing him again. "Go inside or your neighbors will see." Your nosy neighbors always had something to say about you and your life. Conan knew this, from all the times you've complained about it. The only reason you figured out that you had made out with Cone was because of them. Someone told someone who can't keep their mouth shut. 

You get out of the car and make it inside. You press Conan to the door and your lips to his. When he escapes from your kiss he looks away, disappointed that he keeps letting himself get into this. You hands gently grasp his jaw and pull him back to looking at you. Your lips trail down to his neck, probably leaving a mark or two that he'll find in the morning. 

"Y/N, I gotta go." Conan says trying to push you off of him. He wasn't really trying to though, he wanted to stay. He wanted you- no- needed you. But he couldn't justify it this way. You pull back and look up at him. 

"Stay. Please." 

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A/N: This could honestly be the worst thing ever written but It's midnight and I don't feel like proofreading this shit