PAIRING: professor!anakin x f!reader
Reminding everyone that today's the last day where you can send a request for BUNNYCEMBER
You sat across from him, your pink gel pen tapping nervously against the desk. The private study in his home--technically meant for grading and research--had become your little meeting spot for "extra help sessions". And you really did receive help, leaving all satisfied and smiling..
“Just be honest,” you pleaded, sliding the printed essay across the desk. You made sure the paper would smell faintly of your perfume, and keep the soft, bubbly handwriting in the margins to make Anakin’s lips twitch in amusement.
“Sweetheart,” he said, leaning back in his chair, the crisp button-up he wore stretching deliciously across his chest “do you really want my honest opinion?”
You nodded eagerly, gold hoops glinting under the warm lamp light.
He sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair as he picked up the paper. His glasses, perched on the bridge of his nose, made him look even more like the professor fantasy that had you spiraling in the first place. Mother Nature made a walking temptation, so, how could you just ignore it?
“Well?” you leaned forward just enough for your crop top to ride up, exposing the tiniest hint of skin.
Anakin’s gaze flickered to you briefly, jaw tightening before he returned to the essay.
“It’s...unique,” he finally said, setting it down after what felt like an eternity.
“Unique?” you repeated, expression turning to a disappointed pout “That’s not a good thing, is it?”
“It’s not a bad thing,” he said carefully, though the smirk tugging at those swollen lips betrayed him.
You crossed your arms, huffing. “You’re lying. It’s awful, isn’t it? You think I’m dumb.”
“Dumb?” His tone shifted, sharp and disbelieving. In an instant, he was out of his chair, rounding the desk until he was standing right in front of you. “Don’t ever say that again.”
You looked up at him, wide-eyed, lower lip caught between your teeth. His hands gripped the arms of your chair, caging you in before he leaned down - face just inches away from yours.
“I don’t think you’re dumb,” voice low yet so soothing, having you already squeeze your thighs “I think you’re brilliant in your own way, and I think you know how to get what you want.”
“Besides,” he continued, eyes filling with something you knew all too well as they roamed your face, “you already have me wrapped around your little finger. If you wanted an A on this essay, all you had to do was ask.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Really?”
He grinned, thumb brushing against your cheek before trailing down to your jaw, tilting your head back.
“Really,” he murmured, lips ghosting over yours. “But I’d still make you work for it. You wouldn’t want it to be too easy, would you?”
You shook your head softly “No, Professor Skywalker.”
“Good girl,” tone dripping with approval. “Now, let me show you how you can...improve your thesis.”
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