Relations
I do not own anything you recognize…
Okay, we all know Dean's a bad boy. (Or as close as the hunky male can get!) So I figured he might have had relations with a teacher. Well, anyway, here goes nothing.
Note: This is in the teacher's POV.
Admitting
Samantha Simmons was a new teacher to the Lawrence County High School. She was just out of college. Going on twenty-two, the brown haired, green eyed beauty was hard to miss. She was five foot six, but with gorgeous features. She now taught English class – something that she had wanted to do for her whole life.
She always dreamed of being the perfect teacher, having great relationships with her students and co-workers. But that wasn't exactly panning out.
Why? Because she had Dean Winchester in her class.
The five foot, eleven inches heartthrob of a senior was enough to make her heart melt. He had striking green eyes and dirty blonde hair. He wore the usual school attire and was rather popular within the school. He was even a great brother to his younger sibling, Sam.
He would make some woman very happy one day.
But that was the funny thing. She had a crush on him. He flirted with her, but hell, he flirted with everyone. Dean Winchester was going to be a problem.
Why? Because he made her weak in the knees. She needed to do something about him and quick. So she did.
It was the last period of the day. And Ms. Simmons was teaching her favorite class. Dean's class. She had given them some individual work to do, leaving her with nothing to do but grade tests. Instead of doing the work she gets paid for, the boring work, she fantasized.
She fantasized about being with Dean. In more ways then one. Every now and then, when she'd come out of her trance to check on the class, she might find Dean looking at her.
Hoping he felt the same thing, she scribbled 'Meet me after class' down on a piece of scrap paper and laid it on her desk before calling, "Dean Winchester, please come up here."
The class looked at him with the 'Ooohhh! You're in trouble eyes.' Questioning, Dean looked at her. He smiled cockily and stood up before confidently striding up to her desk at the front of the room. All eyes were on him as he took the piece of paper she handed him, unfolded it, smiled, and nodded. He shoved the paper in his pocket before returning to his desk.
Her heart leapt to her throat. He had said yes!
As the remaining fifteen minutes in the class crept down to fifteen seconds, Samantha counted them.
Fifteen…
Ten…
Five… Four…
Two… One…
The school bell went off, causing Samantha to jump up in her seat. The class stood up and ran to the door, eager to start their long three-day weekend. All except for Dean.
Nervously, she started to put her papers in bag.
"You wanted to see me," Dean said as he stood from his seat and walked the short distance to his teacher.
"Um... yes," she said while not looking at him. Something then took over and she looked up boldly and went right to his eyes, "Do you like me?"
"As a teacher? I shouldn't say… could affect my grades," he said, giving her a wink.
"No. As… as a man likes a woman," she said loosing some of her confidence.
"You're pretty. Yeah, sure why not," he rhetorically asked, as he looked her up and down – in a way which no student should do to a teacher.
Before she could say something else, Dean closed and locked the classroom door, closed its blinds, and did the same to the windows before returning to Ms. Simmons. He walked around her desk, pushed her back against the chalkboard before whispering close to her mouth, "Yeah. I do like you."
Fireworks exploded in her. Dean liked her! He liked her! She was screaming inside. But this was wrong. She decided to screw the rules, as her mouth went the rest of the way to his. Screw the damn rules. This was worth it.
Dean pulled away, but not by much. He started to trail kisses down her neck as he asked, "How much time do we have?"
Samantha thought. All the teachers had plans for the long three-day weekend. Except her. And the only person that would stay the extra time after school let out this Friday was the janitor. But he started on the opposite side of the school. They probably had a good two hours.
"Dean," she said as she pushed him off of her, "Take your brother home. Meet me at my place tonight."
Dean agreed as he went around to grab his stuff off the desk he sat at during her class. Before he left, he winked at her. And then he was gone as quickly as he had come to bring his brother home.
Ms. Simmons sunk in her chair. What was she doing? This was unethical. Not right. But kissing him felt better then anything she could imagine. So the rules would have to wait.