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The Putz and The Perv [professor!Jonathan Levy x Fem!Reader]

Summary: Showing off your anatomy in the anatomy lecture hall. 

Word Count: 8.2k 

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: Exhibitionism, age gap, infidelity, drinking warm Jack Daniels like a true college gurl, taking the Lord’s name in vain, 1[one] singular use of the word “cunt”, whoops now there are two cunts. Okay now there’s three. Penis in hand, penis in mouth, penis in love?? Your immersive experience may be hindered if you speak yiddish and or have a cashew allergy.

Authors Note: Heh, anatomy, get it? I think I’m clever. Validate me and I’ll love you forever. Also don’t you ever, don’t you dare, don’t you even wish to dream to think to send me requests for shit. Because this is what happens. This is from the Scenes From A Marriage universe, but can be read as a standalone thot piece. 

You’re a pervert. You’re fucking disgusting. You tell yourself that it’s harmless, this thing you’re doing, but really, the only people who would agree with you on that are other perverts. 

You should have dropped this class weeks ago. It doesn’t even line up with your major anymore. You’re still undecided- flitting around the disciplines, last semester it was Art History, this semester it’s Psychology. So you took a somewhat safe bet with Anatomy, thinking it’d be a nice, neutral choice while you figure out what it is that you really want to do. This shit isn’t safe, or nice, or fucking neutral. It’s nuclear, and you’re making it worse every fucking class period. Look, anyone can teach you anatomy. There isn’t a specific skill to the memorization of the origins and insertions of each muscle. You just have to sit down and memorize them. Any teacher would do. And, fuck, it is just so inappropriate of you to be doing what you’re doing. You should leave the poor man alone. 

But, god, why- why is he so sexy? Without trying to be? How powerful is his magnetism that his outfit of loose corduroy trousers and Costco Dad sneakers does nothing to mitigate your attraction? It’s objectively fucking horrible. But there’s something hot about it too, like, the fact that he doesn’t care how fucking hot he is. Or, more like, he’s treating his hotness with great responsibility. Not flaunting it or accentuating it with tailored looks, but putting on the first outfit he grabbed at a goodwill in an attempt to bring gravitas to the thing that he’s teaching. He’s going to have to find much baggier clothes for that to work on you. Like a monk’s robe, maybe. No, no, not a monk’s robe. Now that’s opening up a whole new can of worms, of vows of celibacy, forbidden attraction, and, yeah let’s not go there-

Also, yes, okay, you see the ring. Of course you see the ring, you fucking pervert. Because of fucking course he’s married. He’s married and probably very happy and fulfilled. In any case, he definitely doesn’t need you sitting in the front row of his lecture hall with your short skirt, flashing him your lack of panties. Pervert.

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