#connormurphyxreadersmut

Y/N as Veronica and Connor as JD during Dead Girl Walking basically.

Warnings: smut

Y/N POV:

I stumbled down the street, still very drunk, but less so than I was due to puking most of the alcohol down Heather’s front. I thought of Heathers words, and how by Monday at eight I’d be dead, stuffed and mounted as yet another prized victim on her wall. I sighed, checking the time and see it had just now reached two in the morning.

“T-minus thirty hours until I’m dead,” I mumble to myself. I walked more, unsure of what to do. What does one do when they know they’re to be dead in a few short hours. I could run away? Somewhere far and cooler, like Seattle. What’s the point of thinking of options that are pointless, I could never get there anyway, I don’t have a car or even a motorbike. I sigh and take in the houses around me, seeing s familiar figure remove his trench-coat and lay down in one.

I smirk, “I’m gonna die, might as well spend my last thirty hours getting freaky.” I say as I stumble through the yard and into into the first story window.

“Y/N!? Wh-what The fuck are you doing in my room?” Connor stutters a bit, but regains his reputation by adding an aggressive ‘fuck’ in his sentence.

I shush him, “I know it’s late, I’m sorry, but I really had to wake you. Heathers gonna kill me do I decided to go out with a bang, and bang you. I decided I’m gonna ride you til I break you.” I say bluntly, looking at him dead in the eyes as he shifts a bit, standing up and looking down at me from the slight height difference, “You’re basically like my last meal on death row,” I add.

He chuckles, “That works for me,” he replied, being cut off my my lips attaching to his, kissing Connors soft yet chapped ones with much lust. Connor falls back to lay on his bed, pulling away from the kiss in the process. I straddle him, my crotch over his ever growing bulge. My hands go to the neck of his shirt, pulling it off easily and running my hands down his sculpted, pale chest. I grind down on him a bit, both of us groaning slightly.

“Slap me,” I say, slapping him, “C'mon, pull my hair,” I add, which is followed by him roughly pulling my head back as he grinds against me, “Touch me there, and there, and there,” I say, which each there he touches an unexplored part of my body before, first being my ass, barely covered by my skirt, second being my boobs, which he grabbed after he ripped open my blouse, third being my cheek, unfortunately. He pulls me down to kiss him again. As we kiss I reach down to undo his button and zipper on his pants, pulling them down to his knees. I pull back for a small breath before leaning down to continue the kiss, Connor pulling my skirt down as I do so. He breaks the kiss away to lean over to his bedside table to grab a condom from his drawer…

~~

I woke up the next morning in an unfamiliar room with the taste of puke, smoke, and alcohol left in my mouth. It smells like good cologne and weed. Opening my eyes I recognize Connor Murphy and remember what I did last night and remember how I don’t regret a thing.

~