Johnny Depp: Short Stories

Dean Corso (Smut 1/2)

     The late afternoon sun gleamed through the tall windows of the library, allowing the spines of the books to catch their shine.

     My boyfriend, Dean, and I were making out in the back of the library in the Philosophy and History sections.

     Nobody really goes in this section, and we liked that, because it was peaceful and quiet.

     Except for the sounds of our gasps and pants.

     Trailing my fingers along the spines, I let out a small exhale, trying to keep quiet as his lips left hot kisses along my neck, trying to find my soft spot.

     "You okay, Y/N?" Dean asked, fixing his round glasses. His dark eyes blinked curiously, the black lashes feathering his skin. His lips were pink and plump, a small indentation on his bottom lip where I'd bitten it.

       "Yeah, I'm fine. I just don't want to get caught-"

      My breath hitched suddenly as his hand trailed to my inner thigh, the fabric of my shorts grazing his hand. 

     He spun us around, placing me back against the wall behind us. I felt him smirking and he attacked the spot under my left ear feverishly. This spot earned him a whimper and a tighter squeeze on his shoulders.

      Warm hands roamed my body, sliding over the fabric of my clothes I knew he wanted off. Dean could be so impatient when he's turned on.

      "So try and keep quiet for me, can you do that?" He rasped, taking off his glasses and setting them nearby.

       I couldn't deny it; he looked hot with those glasses on, but when he took them off, it was like a whole new person had taken my soft-spoken man.

        "I'll try," I said, smoothing my hair back. "You're so beautiful." He murmured, cupping my face and pulling me in for a kiss.

       I could feel his member  hardening under his pants. He grinded impatiently at me, sending fire to my core, feeling how my knees were slowly getting weak.  

       His mouth was so soft, and he tasted slightly of cigarettes and coffee.
I didn't like the smell of cigarettes, so he usually smokes whenever I'm not around.

      My hands gripped at his coat, sliding it off his shoulders. It hit the ground with a soft thud, and my fingers messily unbuttoned his blue shirt.

      The tan skin of his chest and torso blessed my eyes, and I couldn't wait to mark and kiss it.

      Once that was out of the the way, my lips kissed and sucked at his tan chest, and his hands were braced on the wall, his breaths getting heavier.

       God, he was so sensitive.

       I loved how he would groan and grunt whenever we had sex, but sadly we both needed to keep quiet. If we weren't here right now, the sounds he'd make.....

        "No, Y/N, not like this." Dean gritted out, teeth clenched. His hair was beginning to fall into his eyes, and his lips were parted as he tried to gasp for air. I looked up at him, smiling.

        That look seemed to drive him more insane, but his eyes softened instead.

       He gently grabbed my chin, and lifted me up against the wall. "I wanna please you now, Y/N. Can I just do that?"

       I crash my lips with his as an answer, and before I know it, eager hands are pushing down my shorts. I kick the fabric away, feeling like I couldn't get rid of them fast enough.

       Before long, his fingers are on my lower stomach, teasing with light touches.

      He found out early on that I liked him teasing me, but to an extent. 

      Dean trailed the tips of his fingers down to the waistband of my panties and back up a few inches.

      Over and over, until finally he slid them inside, smirking into the kiss.

       "Mmph!"

       Fingers over my lower lips, he brushes across the slick skin, a low growl emanating from his throat.

       Without another word, he shoves two fingers in easily, so I clutch onto his shoulders again as he works them in and out. "D-Dean...." I gasp, trying to not scream here, right now.

        This man knows my weak spots too well.

        "Keep quiet for me."