resident evil oneshots ! ☆

✴︎✴︎ [c.r.] iv : professor?

"aw... leaving so soon, mr. redfield?" he can see the way the tops of your socks dig into the soft flesh of your thighs as you pout, you're that close. the moment you cross one ankle over the other and sigh, he follows the movement with his eyes, not being capable enough to hide the greed anymore.

fuck, even your skirt has lifted by an inch.

"i was actually hoping i'd be able to talk to you about my assignment, if you don't mind..?"

"well, i-i guess i could stay..." chris finds himself saying, gaze still glued to your legs that he yearns to reach out for and touch so badly. "...for a lil' bit longer?"

wow, he's way easier than you'd expected.

"really? you would? that'd be so great." you utter, nudging his foot with your own. the sudden contact makes him visibly flinch in his chair, causing him to push away and roll back a small distance until you have to step in front of him and catch the armrests as a means to halt him.

staring up at you now, chris stills entirely. you've got him trapped, and his breath hitches in the back of his throat because of it. you're so close that he can count your eyelashes one by one if he wants to, and he feels his body turn rigid by the nearly non-existent proximity. it's all so overwhelming: your warmth, the way you look at him, the sickeningly sweet scent of strawberries that comes from the chewing gum that's inside your mouth.

"going somewhere, professor?" you ask sweetly, smiling a grin that he realizes makes his legs weak. "i thought you said, you and i were gonna talk?"

"we can talk..." chris mutters, his throat feeling so dry and tight because your hand is slipping and is touching his thigh now. "...just s-stop with the games. i'm not good at playin' them."

"what games?" you bite the inside of your cheek, puckering your lips in a way that makes you look coy despite that your hand is literally inching higher and higher. "i'm not playing any games?"

his voice is a shaky whisper. "stop fucking with me."

and yours is a goddamn purr, because it's so rewarding to see him this helpless for once; it's an absolute treat! "but, sir... i thought you wanted me to do just that? didn't you like the little picture i sent you?"

"i-" it's hard to be mad at you when you keep batting your eyelashes at him. as if you're this innocent little thing that doesn't want to be bent over. ignoring the thought, he tries to be stern. "-i never said that."

"no?" you blink, eyes glazed over and pupils big. "but you were hinting at it over the phone last night, weren't you? after i gave you my number when you had asked for it?"

"i- you can't..."

"yes, i can."

bullseye, you've shot him right through the morality with that one.

it's hard to breathe properly at this point, the accusation you're making against him is making his vision spin. chris is tugging at the collar of his shirt, lips parting as he tries to let more oxygen into his lungs and say something smart back as a means to throw you off your game.

that pathway soon becomes useless, however, because the moment he opens his mouth, you slam your own right against it without any warning whatsoever.

and just like that, he's done.

the kiss sucks all the air right out of him, no matter how delicate it is at first. it wipes his mind clean, makes his eyelids bat shut, and makes him melt into you until he's yours to command. and, damn, the realization of what you're doing - kissing your professor - hits you bright and clear just as it hits him. like you're both sitting inside a speeding car, aiming straight toward a cliff that neither of you knows how to avoid.