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dugindeepTitle: Teacher's Pet
Pairing: Jensen/Jeffrey Dean Morgan
Rating/Warning: NC-17/dubious consent, underage, teacher-student
Words: 1300
Summary: Written for SPN_Masquerade Spring 2020 for the prompt: Jensen is crushing on his teacher. Mr. Morgan has never been so tempted in his life. Originally posted here
Read on AO3
Third period is Advanced Placement Chemistry with the best of the best of the seniors in this school. They show up every day to take copious notes, fight to be the first hand up to answer each question, and ace every pop quiz and exam.
This is the fourth year in a row Jeff has taught AP Chem and he’s always adored the bright-eyed over-achievers who make his job easy.
Grading papers is a breeze and he saves a lot of red ink.
But then Jensen Ackles walked through the door.
In his 20-year teaching career, Jeff has surely had his fair sure of student-admirers. None have tested his will as much as Ackles.
It’s not just that the kid is cute and tempting – because he is, overflowing with eager discipline and a sharp smile that accompanies a whip-smart attitude. The worst part is that he knows what he’s doing to Jeff.
There are the lectures Jensen spends with a pen jammed in his mouth, teeth chewing at the cap, tongue swirling around it, and luscious, pink lips pouting around the pen, all while staring Jeff down every time he regards the class to be sure they’re paying attention.
Jeff is always paying attention.
Even when he tries not to …
Jensen is also well too aware when Jeff’s eyes roam the room, like during experiments when Jensen fiddles with test tubes. Those clever fingers grope the length of the glass, curl around the tube and drag up and down, while his wide eyes wander until he catches Jeff’s eye and fires off a lopsided smile.
Jeff’s been grateful that’s all it’s been … Until he realizes just how much trouble he’s about to fall into.
One Friday afternoon, Ackles showed up a few hours after school, blonde hair dark and wet, flicked this way and that. Must be fresh from track practice with sweat skimming down his long neck and wearing a pale blue tank top tucked into tiny, navy blue running shorts that show off miles of pale skin. To make matters worse, he clutches the straps of his backpack in a shy, endearing way that makes Jeff’s stomach burn hot with the dirty-wrong-he’s-your-student kind of fire.
Jeff flinches so hard at the sight that he knocks two filtering flasks off his desk, liquid spilling across the floor and glass shattering everywhere.
“Oh, gosh,” Jensen murmurs as he rushes into the room to help clean up. The golden boy might as well golly-gee himself with a dopey shrug for how he’s playing up his innocence.
It doesn’t fool Jeff, especially not when Jensen moves in close as they bend over to clean up the mess, bumping shoulders and knees together.
“It’s fine, Jensen,” Jeff insists as he stands. “I’ve got it.”
He really doesn’t, and he knows it, but he needs boundaries. Needs Jensen to know there’s a line to stand behind.
Whether the kid truly does or not, Jeff’s resolve evaporates when Jensen looks at his finger and frowns.
Jeff can see the blood and he suddenly feels awful that Jensen’s injured himself, even if Jensen is the exact reason for the crash.
Still, Jensen’s lips turn down before he puts his finger in his mouth to suck away the blood. His eyes are wide, almost worried, yet still sparkle when he looks up at Jeff from beneath his eyelashes and slips his finger further between those plump lips.
“Jensen,” Jeff warns.
The way the kid’s little lip-twitch meant he knows exactly what’s happening.
“Mr. Morgan, I’m so sorry,” Jensen murmurs. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you while you were doing all your important chemistry stuff.” Now he leans against the desk and stares down at Jeff, who has collapsed in his chair, hoping to keep this professional while staying behind his desk. “I just wanted to come by to get some help with my grade.”
The voice is so sing-songy, Jeff rolls his eyes. Besides which, he knows off the top of his head that Jensen waiss one of his best students and if the kid doesn’t already have at least a 95% in the class, Jeff will eat his pencil.
Jensen’s fingers dance across the desk, stopping at a spot right in front of Jeff. “Is there anything I can do?”
Jeff moves Jensen’s hand away to check his grade book, flicking pages with attitude. Anything to distract himself from Jensen now sitting at the corner of his desk, his shorts riding higher to show off far too much skin. When he finds the AP Chem page, he shakes his head with a cruel laugh. “Jensen, you have a 98 in the class.”
“Wow, really?” Jensen sets his hands on his thighs and rubs up and down, pulling his shorts up even higher, and now Jeff can see the seam of his bright red underwear.
The color is starkly bright against Jensen’s pale thighs …
Jeff coughs to clear his mind.
Jensen shakes his head and tsks. “Really? I could’ve sworn it was worse than that.”
“Well, it isn’t,” Jeff tosses back at him with a slight glare. There’s only one month left in the semester with little room for improvement when Jensen’s grade is already so high. “I don’t know what you think you could do at this point.”
Scooting closer, bringing those damn tempting thighs even nearer to Jeff (and damn, are those freckles dusting his taut skin?), Jensen sighs fretfully. “Are you sure? I’m chasing after Danneel for valedictorian, so anything I could do to add a few points would be incredible.”
Jeff stands up to put space between them, but he immediately realizes the error in judgement. He’s now putting his groin very close to eye level with Jensen, who licks his lips and stares right at it.
“You know, I could just …” Jensen drifts off, but words don’t matter anymore. His hands do the talking as they reach for Jeff’s belt and tug him a little, testing, and Jeff is so frozen by the boy’s brazen move that he doesn’t realize how much shit he’s really in until Jensen has pulled him all the way forward and is already slipping his belt open.
“Jensen,” Jeff argues, but even he can hear how weak it is.
It does nothing to slow the kid down. In seconds, he has Jeff’s pants open and dick out, and leans in to lick at the head before diving right in. Jensen starts moaning all around Jeff’s dick as he sucks him down, sending shivers across Jeff’s skin.
“Goddamit,” Jeff curses and looks to the open door, yelling at himself for putting himself in such danger. Any other student could walk by. Hell, another teacher or the principal, and then his career would be completely … well, blown.
But Jensen’s mouth is talented like the rest of him and he surprises the hell out of Jeff by how talented he is in taking his dick all the way in.
It’s messy, of course, because even if Jensen seems to know what he’s doing, he’s still only 17 years old and over-excited with his noises and his tongue, spit dripping from the corners of his mouth, down Jeff’s dick, and lower.
No matter what he tells himself, Jeff can’t stop the kid, wouldn’t dare to when he feels the coil tighten in his belly and heat slink down his back. His hands slip over Jensen’s head to guide him, giving directions … teaching him just how to suck him off, and Jesus, he’s gonna hate himself in the morning.
For now, he pets Jensen’s hair and mentally adds an extra point to Jensen’s grade.
Maybe two, if he swallows.
Pairing: Jensen/Jeffrey Dean Morgan
Rating/Warning: NC-17/dubious consent, underage, teacher-student
Words: 1300
Summary: Written for SPN_Masquerade Spring 2020 for the prompt: Jensen is crushing on his teacher. Mr. Morgan has never been so tempted in his life. Originally posted here
Read on AO3
Third period is Advanced Placement Chemistry with the best of the best of the seniors in this school. They show up every day to take copious notes, fight to be the first hand up to answer each question, and ace every pop quiz and exam.
This is the fourth year in a row Jeff has taught AP Chem and he’s always adored the bright-eyed over-achievers who make his job easy.
Grading papers is a breeze and he saves a lot of red ink.
But then Jensen Ackles walked through the door.
In his 20-year teaching career, Jeff has surely had his fair sure of student-admirers. None have tested his will as much as Ackles.
It’s not just that the kid is cute and tempting – because he is, overflowing with eager discipline and a sharp smile that accompanies a whip-smart attitude. The worst part is that he knows what he’s doing to Jeff.
There are the lectures Jensen spends with a pen jammed in his mouth, teeth chewing at the cap, tongue swirling around it, and luscious, pink lips pouting around the pen, all while staring Jeff down every time he regards the class to be sure they’re paying attention.
Jeff is always paying attention.
Even when he tries not to …
Jensen is also well too aware when Jeff’s eyes roam the room, like during experiments when Jensen fiddles with test tubes. Those clever fingers grope the length of the glass, curl around the tube and drag up and down, while his wide eyes wander until he catches Jeff’s eye and fires off a lopsided smile.
Jeff’s been grateful that’s all it’s been … Until he realizes just how much trouble he’s about to fall into.
One Friday afternoon, Ackles showed up a few hours after school, blonde hair dark and wet, flicked this way and that. Must be fresh from track practice with sweat skimming down his long neck and wearing a pale blue tank top tucked into tiny, navy blue running shorts that show off miles of pale skin. To make matters worse, he clutches the straps of his backpack in a shy, endearing way that makes Jeff’s stomach burn hot with the dirty-wrong-he’s-your-student kind of fire.
Jeff flinches so hard at the sight that he knocks two filtering flasks off his desk, liquid spilling across the floor and glass shattering everywhere.
“Oh, gosh,” Jensen murmurs as he rushes into the room to help clean up. The golden boy might as well golly-gee himself with a dopey shrug for how he’s playing up his innocence.
It doesn’t fool Jeff, especially not when Jensen moves in close as they bend over to clean up the mess, bumping shoulders and knees together.
“It’s fine, Jensen,” Jeff insists as he stands. “I’ve got it.”
He really doesn’t, and he knows it, but he needs boundaries. Needs Jensen to know there’s a line to stand behind.
Whether the kid truly does or not, Jeff’s resolve evaporates when Jensen looks at his finger and frowns.
Jeff can see the blood and he suddenly feels awful that Jensen’s injured himself, even if Jensen is the exact reason for the crash.
Still, Jensen’s lips turn down before he puts his finger in his mouth to suck away the blood. His eyes are wide, almost worried, yet still sparkle when he looks up at Jeff from beneath his eyelashes and slips his finger further between those plump lips.
“Jensen,” Jeff warns.
The way the kid’s little lip-twitch meant he knows exactly what’s happening.
“Mr. Morgan, I’m so sorry,” Jensen murmurs. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you while you were doing all your important chemistry stuff.” Now he leans against the desk and stares down at Jeff, who has collapsed in his chair, hoping to keep this professional while staying behind his desk. “I just wanted to come by to get some help with my grade.”
The voice is so sing-songy, Jeff rolls his eyes. Besides which, he knows off the top of his head that Jensen waiss one of his best students and if the kid doesn’t already have at least a 95% in the class, Jeff will eat his pencil.
Jensen’s fingers dance across the desk, stopping at a spot right in front of Jeff. “Is there anything I can do?”
Jeff moves Jensen’s hand away to check his grade book, flicking pages with attitude. Anything to distract himself from Jensen now sitting at the corner of his desk, his shorts riding higher to show off far too much skin. When he finds the AP Chem page, he shakes his head with a cruel laugh. “Jensen, you have a 98 in the class.”
“Wow, really?” Jensen sets his hands on his thighs and rubs up and down, pulling his shorts up even higher, and now Jeff can see the seam of his bright red underwear.
The color is starkly bright against Jensen’s pale thighs …
Jeff coughs to clear his mind.
Jensen shakes his head and tsks. “Really? I could’ve sworn it was worse than that.”
“Well, it isn’t,” Jeff tosses back at him with a slight glare. There’s only one month left in the semester with little room for improvement when Jensen’s grade is already so high. “I don’t know what you think you could do at this point.”
Scooting closer, bringing those damn tempting thighs even nearer to Jeff (and damn, are those freckles dusting his taut skin?), Jensen sighs fretfully. “Are you sure? I’m chasing after Danneel for valedictorian, so anything I could do to add a few points would be incredible.”
Jeff stands up to put space between them, but he immediately realizes the error in judgement. He’s now putting his groin very close to eye level with Jensen, who licks his lips and stares right at it.
“You know, I could just …” Jensen drifts off, but words don’t matter anymore. His hands do the talking as they reach for Jeff’s belt and tug him a little, testing, and Jeff is so frozen by the boy’s brazen move that he doesn’t realize how much shit he’s really in until Jensen has pulled him all the way forward and is already slipping his belt open.
“Jensen,” Jeff argues, but even he can hear how weak it is.
It does nothing to slow the kid down. In seconds, he has Jeff’s pants open and dick out, and leans in to lick at the head before diving right in. Jensen starts moaning all around Jeff’s dick as he sucks him down, sending shivers across Jeff’s skin.
“Goddamit,” Jeff curses and looks to the open door, yelling at himself for putting himself in such danger. Any other student could walk by. Hell, another teacher or the principal, and then his career would be completely … well, blown.
But Jensen’s mouth is talented like the rest of him and he surprises the hell out of Jeff by how talented he is in taking his dick all the way in.
It’s messy, of course, because even if Jensen seems to know what he’s doing, he’s still only 17 years old and over-excited with his noises and his tongue, spit dripping from the corners of his mouth, down Jeff’s dick, and lower.
No matter what he tells himself, Jeff can’t stop the kid, wouldn’t dare to when he feels the coil tighten in his belly and heat slink down his back. His hands slip over Jensen’s head to guide him, giving directions … teaching him just how to suck him off, and Jesus, he’s gonna hate himself in the morning.
For now, he pets Jensen’s hair and mentally adds an extra point to Jensen’s grade.
Maybe two, if he swallows.
