Mighty Tyrant vs. Mighty Twink

by nervepowder

Summary:

Previously a full Leon Kennedy ONESHOT comp, now just for the one story.

-

Leon had much work to do if he was going to make it out of the RPD alive. It didn't help a big tyrant was chasing him throughout the place, making it almost impossible to catch a moment's peace.

Using acid on the monster proved useful to stunning it for a running break... but came with consequences.

-
CANON DIVERGENCE IS SOOOO HEAVY i rarely ever know what I'm doing and despite having played Re2r 5 times and counting so far, I forget the order things go in sometimes...

ALSO THIS IS FOR HUMOR 😭😭 i feel the need to point that out.

Chapter 1: Not this fucking guy again

Summary:

HELP WHAT IS THAT TITLE.

Anyways,

Leon finds himself in the midst of chaos on top of the chaos he already found himself in. In such intense situations, Leon begins to feel tired and weak. This doesn't make him very happy.

Notes:

Anyways I'm so sorry for this.

I um... let's just say this came to me in a dream. No, I'm serious, I woke up and was like OH... okay, time to write ig JSKWKMS 😭🙏
The thing that makes the smut happen is so funny and stupid you'll see YOU'LL SEE
Enjoy.

Note: Canon divergence is heavy, Leon has the grenade launcher. also I was gonna make Leon trans in this one but nahhhh

-Click,Click,Click-

     Frustrated, Leon groaned loudly at the sound, "Fucking perfect-" He shoved Matilda back in her holster, feeling an instant sense of discomfort at being unarmed, especially in the situation he found himself in. A small group of bloody, deformed, decaying humans used what little muscle memory must have remained intact to shuffle toward Leon. This wasn't ideal not only now that he was fresh out of ammunition, but the rookie cop found himself backing closer do a dead end. It wasn't a wall, no, but a blockade.

His mouth was dry and warm, breaths passing in and out at an increasing pace. It was becoming hard to hear anything over the sound of his own heart, pounding violently in his chest, and if it weren't for the pure focus and attempt at methodical thinking, he would have been able to feel the ache in his chest. But not right now. He wasn't trained to feel fear, and he sure as hell wasn't trained to feel the symptoms. Given that he was... barely trained at all.

Trying to grasp at the facts and reality of his situation, his mind ran at a hundred miles per hour. At the same time, he could barely think at all. Fuck, he was getting nervous. With such a wide hallway, he would normally be able to sprint his way forward, avoiding the danger if it was in the form of one maybe two zombies- but there were too many. He'd have to be quick, and unfortunately since he chose to try and shoot his way through first, his window was tiny and shrinking by the second. Could he use an acid or flame round? No- and run through the splash zone or hoard of walking fireballs? Absolutely not.

He'd have to fight his way through, whether he ran through or let them come to him, and that second option just wouldn't do. He took a deep breath, pulling his knife from it's holster and gripping it tight in his hand. Just as he was about to advance toward the hoard, a sound similar to that of his own heart crept up behind him.

Thump... Thump... Thump... Thump

Recognizing the sound immediately, seeing as it had been chasing him all night, he let out what almost sounded like a whine, "Son of a bitch." Before he could really react, a zombie launched itself toward him. His body's instant response was to pull backwards.

This is how that went.

His back hit the barricade, metal chairs and other objects clunking in response. However almost instantly afterward, the entirety of the barricade begun to collapse, and he fell with it. He yelped out it suprise, back hitting the hard materials as he landed. "Agh!" His back ached already, feeling a jabbing sensation in a couple spots.

His pain, however, was the least of his concerns. The horrifying sight of the tyrant next to him, towering in all his hugeness, quickly washed away everything else. The tyrant's eyes, piercing and cold, were enough to send the necessary adrenaline throughout Leon's body. As he saw the huge figure lifing it's foot, he rolled himself away, grunting as the metals poked against his body.

He scrambled to stand, stumbling and landing on his knees a few feet forward as the Tyrant slammed it's foot down on the pile, creating a loud thunder of crushed objects and the force shaking the floor. Leon pushed himself up and pressed on, running away.

Of course, as normal, the big guy could be heard stomping in his direction. It wasn't too hard to lose it, Leon ducking behind a pillar in the main hall. He let himself catch his breath before cutting it off instantly when he heard a door open. Following, the sound of the mighty tyrant's leather cloak squeaking as it ducked through the doorway.

Leon covered his mouth and kept completely quiet. It was a few seconds before the footsteps begun to head upstairs. He kept low as he moved away from the pillar, going to head into another room closeby. He reached forward, grabbing the doorknob, twisting and stepping forward- only to hit the door with a thud.

Fucking perfect, of course he forgot this one was locked. Why hadn't he unlocked it yet? He had the key, and he had already been in the room from the other side. "Fuck!" He knew already that the beast had turned to see what caused the soft sound, so he made no effort to hide his frustration.

He quickly opened one of his packs, digging around for the key. He should have enough time to get the door unlocked before the tyrant could strike a blow.

Right?

He heard the thudding of the Tyrant's footsteps descending the stairs, and at the same time his heart pounding, resonating in his ears and muffling anything else. He yanked the key out, quickly pushing it forward and shoving it in the hole. However, it didn't go all the way in, nor did it turn. He looked at the shape on the top. It was the wrong one.

"Damnit!" He yelled again, his voice cracking into a higher pitch. He yanked his hand away, looking up at the tyrant so relentlessly pursuing him. Fuck, he took too long. He tyrant finally got close, raising it's fist to deliver a blow. He quickly went to back away, but was hit anyway, a punch grazing roughly against his jaw.

With a yelp, he stumbled back. Thankfully the hit wasn't enough to cause any serious damage.

The tyrant adjusted itself to stand up straight again, and Leon knew he had to take this opportunity to run again. The god awful sound of the creature's stomps began again. Again, Leon could barely even hear it over the sound of his own heart. Each step behind him felt like it shook his whole body, the vibrations enough to make him feel more than uneasy. This chase was likely not going to end anytime soon... but maybe he could do something to pause it.

As he jogged, he reached to his back, yanking the launcher his picked up previously from it's holster and checking to see what was inside. Acid? That would work. That had to slow the tyrant down.

It had to.

He couldn't keep running like this. With shaky panting breath, he spun around, pointing the gun at the beast. Here goes nothing. Oh, it was so much closer behind him than he thought.

He had to quickly lift his arms to match his shot with at least it's upper chest if not it's head. He pulled the trigger, his upper body pushing back a bit from the recoil. The acid round shot out, hitting it right in the face. Due to the solid surface it hit, the splashback was a bit intense. Some of the acid flew back onto Leon, and he yelled in pain as soon as it hit his cheek. Thank whatever horrible monstrosity their might be for a god that it wasn't a lot, or that it didn't hit his eyes.

The tyrant seemed almost entirely unaffected, minus the soft squint it gave when the acid round hit it's face. It continued to walk, reaching out to grab Leon. It was successful.

Leon grunted as his arm was taken in the monster's big hand, and he quickly tried to yank away. As the acid sunk into it's skin, it finally affected it kust enough to weaken it's grip, and maybe even disorient it. Leon was able to yank himself away, quickly sprinting away from the tyrant.

-

He managed to get to the room he was heading for in the first place- what he liked to call his "safe room." He called it that because of how closed off it was from the rest of the station.

He closed the door behind himself, panting as he walked his way toward the storage box. With a soft whimper, he nearly fell into it, placing his hands on top and leaning over, trying to catch his breath.

His body was trying to give out on him, trying to tell him it was done. But he hated that, and he knew he couldn't be done yet. He had so much he needed to do to get the fuck out of here and figure out what was going on.

He dragged his hands along the box as he pulled away, turned around, and put them back on it. He hopped back up onto it, sitting and leaning back against the wall. He could take a break. Just a small one. Just to give his body a little time to recover from whatever it felt was so damn tiring. He figured it was all the adrenaline wearing off.

A small minute into his little break, his breathing was already calming a bit... but he felt more shaky. He also started to feel warmer. Why? It was so cold in the whole police department. He felt the heat flushing from his face- mainly his cheeks- down through his neck. This was certainly a different way than he's ever felt heat spread before.

Okay, fine. He'd get a bit more comfortable. He sat up straight, reaching to undo his vest. As he fumbled with the buckles he felt the heat in his chest and in his arms, like it was coursing through his veins. He quickened his process, yanking off his vest and throwing it down.

Still panting a bit, he leaned back against the wall, hands resting on his thighs. That only helped to transfer the heat down to them too, and he grunted as he pulled them away. Fuck, what was going on?

Was this an anxiety attack?

His breath began quickening again and he whined, "Shit..." He reached and brushed his hair back, pushing out a violent sigh. It was getting so uncomfortable. He felt blood rushing through his body, through his tummy and especially down to... oh no.

He realized where some of this heat was coming from, and in a fit of confusion and frustration, he let out an unintentionally loud, "Huh??" as if to question his own logic. It was crazy to conclude that in all of this mess- all of the horrifying things he's seen tonight, all of the terror he felt running from that big bulky beast- that he was horny of all things.

Then it did start to feel like panic. He was confused and now angry, mostly with himself and his body. He rubbed his thigh, panting heavily, "stop, stop, stop..." he let out through a little breathy voice, leaning his head back, "Fuck, Leon, what the fuck?" He felt tears poke at his eyes, which only fueled his frustration.

He quickly pushed himself off of the box and stood, grabbing his vest. There was only one solution he could think of to stop all of this, and that was to cut this break short and go back out into all of the mess. He put it back on, taking a deep breath. He opened the box, taking out some ammo he had previously stored in there and reloading Matilda.

When he felt ready to head back out, he opened the door.

 

Chapter 2: Fuck, it's hot in here.

Summary:

Following the recent events, Leon has decided he needs to keep quiet and focused. However the whole time he's battling with this feeling inside... it's so distracting.
It doesn't seem the tyrant finding him and chasing him down is helping any...

Notes:

IM BACK, A FEW THINGS:
-The real smut doesn't start until the next chapter.
-I'm bad at timelines, so if there's anything out of order in here ermmmm sorry
-I'M SO SORRY FOR MAKING YALL WAIT its not even worth the wait trust ToT
-If you can't figure out what made Leon horny, dw, i'll make sure to tell you in the notes at the end ;p
-I wrote this chapter all spread out through a couple different days but mainly finished it at like 2am i think it was so it's definitely not the best writing but bare with me please please pleaseeee
-I LOVE YOU UR SO IMPORTANT AND LOVED !! unrelated i just wanted u to know that
-ENJOY

-

 

The rookie, despite having had reloaded her, hadn't yet used Matilda since his last elimination. Each zombie he encountered got a knife to the neck or got completely ignored, dodged and lost in it's slowness behind. This was because as useful as she was, dear Matilda was loud.

 

Volume just wouldn't do anymore. After Leon's last interactions with the mighty tyrant, he would absolutely dread if it were to be attracted to his location. The only sounds were the shuffling of his feet as he jogged, the creaking of the ravaged building, and the soft thuds of raindrops hitting the windows when he pressed through hallways.

 

As Leon walked the halls, he flipped through the pages he was given by Marvin. Unfortunately for him, when the notebook was given to him, one of the pages that seemed important had been missing.

 

Thankfulky, he found it earlier.

 

An escape through the parking garage? It made sense why they couldnt leave the way Leon had come in - but how could they be sure the parking garage was going to be any safer? What if it was even worse in the streets out that way? As much as his mind raced, he kept paying close attention.

 

So in order to open up a way to the parking garage, he'd have to get all of the medalions from the sepparate statues. How stupid. Why make everything a puzzle in a Police Station? Granted it was origionally a Museum, but why not have these things easier to acess? If this was the only way to the parking garage how did people come in from it?

 

Way too confusing and time consuming .... Leon needed to be smart and quick.

 

He already knew where two of the medalion statues was, one in a room just outside the library, labeled the lounge on his map, and the other just at the top of the main hall stairs. Problem about one of those- the library was a nest for zombies right now. Not only that, but somehow every time he went in there it seemed like Mr. X was right on his tail.

 

But he would have to brave it out- or go around through the hallway. Problem was, he wasn't sure if he could even acsess the hallway that led to the lounge yet.

 

For now, he focussed on the one that may have been even more dangerous- being it was at the top of the stairs in a big, open area. Maybe the one through the library would be less dangerous, if there weren't zombies crowding the literature filled room.

 

As the door opened to the West Office, he stepped through, knife in hand. With his other hand, he quickly reached for his flashlight. As he walked through the office, he tried not to let his envionment bother him.

 

Hanging above the desks was a banner welcoming him to the station. A banner that, he imagined, he would have been so happy inside to see.

 

Despite his efforts, he couldn't push away the thoughts of what could have been, the attempted image of his fellow officers all in the room, shaking his hand in each of their different grips as he met them. One of the corpse on the ground of a zombie he had shot- right in the center of its head, causing it to burst into nothing but chunks- could have been one of those officers. How cruel of his mind to play this innocent scenario, while in reality he was surrounded by the rotten flesh and blood of his comrades.

 

However he had no time to dwell on it. He reached the end of the desks, having bumped into one of the chairs with a soft grunt, and stepped up to the small set of stairs. Having bumped the chair must have woken something, because one of the corpses on the ground near him was awake, and reaching out for him. Its hand got a quick, firm grip around his ankle, and it let out a loud, gutteral, wet yell. Leon gasped, looking down to see and instinctively pulling his ankle away. How did these things have such humane strength- such a normal grip- when they were literally rotting away every second?

 

He kept yanking, struggling to get it off of him, flailing his arm a little as he had lost a bit of balance from being caught-literally caught- off gaurd. His normal solution would probably be just to pop a bullet in it's head, but he has kept a streak of being as discreet as possible for the past little while, and he didn't want to give that up just yet.

 

Leon readied his knife, holding the handle firmly with the blade facing outward toward himself. Leaning down and pulling his arm up, he let the monster drag itself a little closer. In a swift motion, accompanied by a sound of effort, he forcefully dropped his arm, the knife stabbing right into the creature's dome.

 

The preassure was enough to almost have it meet the same fate as it's buddy somewhere else in the room, but it got to keep it's head for the most part. The sound of the knife sinking in when he stabbed was almost satisfying, but not nearly as satisfying as watching the slow creature become still, and feeling the hand cease it's pressure around his ankle.

 

Relieved, Leon let out a huff of air, pulling the bloodied knife out with a squelch. He stood back upright, yanking his ankle away and-

 

That, of all things, was what finally made him lose his ballance.

 

He let out what kind of sounded like a gasp but in vocals, and he stumbled with a thud into the door. The sound wasn't insanely loud, but to Leon it reverberated throughout the room, and stopped his heart for a good second. He thankfully was able to catch himself against it.

 

Man, he really needed to stop doing that.

 

He pulled away from the door, grunting softly as he pushed some hair out of his face. A mix of emotions ran through him, including embarrassment and shame. How did he manage to get this clumsy? What the hell was up with him tonight?

 

He opened the door, yanking his head to each side to check quickly for the tyrant, or any other inconvenience. Thankfully he didn't see or hear him yet, and the room seemed pretty much clear. While he hurried toward the stairs, he thought to himself about what just happened.

 

If he was going to have more interactions like that, he may have to keep out his gun. He was running out of time... maybe he didn't have the time to be careful and quiet anymore. Everything he was doing was going to have to be hasty. Fuck it. He could avoid the big guy, couldn't he?

 

On top of all of this- whenever he wasn't focussed or distracted, he could feel that heat from earlier burning all through him again. It lingered, and it was very uncomfortable. It made his clothes feel tight and intrusive.

 

He reached the lion statue, observing what it was he was dealing with. It seemed there were different shapes that were rotatable, three in a row like a slot machine. Since he wasn't sure what to put in, he opened one of his hip pouches and pulled out the notebook.

 

As he flipped through the pages, searching for his answer, he could feel it again. His cheeks started to flush, and he could feel himself become warm, fidgety. He found the page- which he decided he'd just fold the notebook open so he didn't have to find them again- and he tried to make out the symbols.

 

It seemed the first symbol was, fittingly, a lion. Then-

 

-Thump, Thump, Thump-

 

The sound begun to fade in from the distance, and Leon's heart nearly stopped beating. Fuck, not him again. He was hoping the creature wasn't attracted by the noise he had made earlier by falling against the door, because if it could hear noises like that from what Leon assumed was a good distance...

 

He quickly turned the first couple of symbols to find the lion head and the branch, listening as the footsteps only got closer. He looked back at the notebook, trying to figure out the last symbol. It was confusing for a second, but he quickly recognized it as a bird. He quickly turned the slot, trying to find it.

 

As he messed with the last slot, he heard a door open somewhere behind him. He turned around to look, catching a glimpse of the Tyrant's behatted head poking through a door further away from him on what would be his left if he was facing it, currently his right as he turned his head back around to face the statue.

 

He heard only the silent creaking of leather for a few seconds, as he assumed the Tyrant was standing up straight from bending through the door. As he flicked to the symbol, he noticed a feeeling growing inside of him. Not only the normal fear brewing from being in the Tyrant's line of sight, but that damned heat.

 

He didnt have any time to process more than his quicked heart rate before the steps of the monster begun toward him. The statue in front of him was shifting slightly where a medalion was held. It was all too slow.

 

"Come on.." He grumbled, turning to see the beast pursuing him, and just as quickly turning back to the statue. Reaching and pulling out the medalion, the rookie rushed away from the statue. It was only after he begun to head toward the door closest to him on that second floor that he realized where that door had led.

 

The library.

 

Well, if the beast was already on his tail, there was no point in cowering from the zombies, really. Now he could blast through them while running like hell- which would be inconvenient, and he might miss a couple of times, but it was a hell of a lot better than just trying to avoid them in all. Under this logic, he pulled Matilda out of her holster, flicking the safety off and holding her firmly.

 

He burst open the library door, holding her up in case he was instantly met with a flesh-eating figure, and taking one last quick glance over his shoulder. The sight was no different than before, a grey beast stomping closer and closer to him. Fuck, that sight was something. It almost had Leon frozen in his place, wanting to keep staring and watching the dangerous monster closing in... almost.

 

He ran into the room, running around the zombie that greeted him near the staircase, and running up the stairs. Reaching the top, he slowed his pace. Here, he had an option. He could go through the door on the left which, from what he remembered, led to a storage room of sorts. Or, he could continue forward to the door that most likely led out to the balcony.

 

He had no time to analyze the situation very thoroughly, as his pursuer was already stepping into the room, but he made sure to at least give it some thought. Besides, if he stopped running, he could head for one of the doors and maybe it wouldn't be able to hear which way he went.

 

The storage room definitely had hiding places- thats good- but from the balcony he could run to the other side of the third floor, where he hadn't even been yet.

That was about all he could think of in those few split seconds, before ultimately deciding to press forward. If his goal was to keep quiet now, he had no choice anyway, as the monster would see him crossing the walkway over to the storage door. At least here, he was above him and not visible yet.

 

He kept stepping forward, keeping a slower-than-normal walking pace to hopefully create less noise than what would give away his route. With his feet pressing carefully into the wood below him, he was nearing the door until-

 

-snap-

 

-CRASH-

 

The planks below him snapped, giving out under him and causing him to fall. He gasped, yelping as he was dragged down to the ground by gravity's hands. His back hit the ground along with the planks of wood, and as soon as he made contact, the force pushed the air out of his lungs.

 

His eyes snapped shut and he let out a strained, breathless groan as he lay there frozen for a few seconds, the understanding of his situation flooding in all too late. As well as the immense pain shooting through his back and hips, he felt the vibrations under him from the tyrant stomping toward him.

 

Thank whatever cruel deity there was out there for adrenaline, or he wouldn't have yet been able to move. He rolled to his right, begining to push himself up with a soft grunt. He felt so weak, so pathetic. As he did this, he lifted his head so he could see.

 

Before him was a scene he both dreaded and was thankful for- the couple zombies that had been in this area were close to him, closing in for their meal. Oh, but right behind them was the towering beast. It reached out one of it's large, gloved hands to pull one zombie away, following with an impressive move of grabbing the other by it's shoulders, and pulling it in half.

 

The horrid, gut wrenching sound of bones crushing, blood gushing, and flesh ripping filled the air. If Leon had the time to properly process this scene, he may have thrown up enough to ammount to a couple days worth of meals. Blood and other rancid fluid rained down in front of him, some managing to land on his hands and face.

 

This thing could have just yanked the zombie out of the way like it did with the other, but no. It had to tear it in half like a fucking string cheese as if it was proving something, showing Leon that it would tear theough everything to get to him.

 

This idea made Leon feel even weaker than before, and with a little whine, his arm buckled underneath him.

 

Tossing the pieces to the side, the being stepped forward, bending over and swiping down to grab at Leon, successfully grabbing a fist of his hair.

 

The young cop grunted softly, and his mind raced with morbid thoughts- more like realizations- that he was about to meet a similar fate as that zombie. He braced for the feeling, the feeling of his muscles being torn and bones being snapped apart as the Tyrant pulled off his head.

 

As much as he prepared, no such feeling happened.

Instead, the lift was very gentle and slow, his head being brought up only enough so the tyrant could see it. As he felt the gentle tug, his throat pushed out noises he didn't even know he could make. Noises that almost sounded like whimpering . He used his arms to hold himself up, make the lift by his hair a little less painful, but that certainly didn't stop the other feeling.

 

He let his eyes wander up to the tall figure, and his stomach turned at the sight. It's stone cold eyes pierced right through his very soul. No thoughts ran through Leon's head anymore, but millions were banging at his mind's door to let them in. Why was the tyrant not just demolishing him, why was his death being so prolonged? Why couldn't he muster up the strength to fight this? What was this feeling spreading throughout his body?

 

The only thing that snapped Leon back into his normal mind was the sound of an angry flesh-eating zombie coming up again. His eyes widened and he reached up with one of his hands, trying to hold onto the beast's wrist to pry it off. His eyes dashed between the tyrant- who seemed go also turn it's attention to the interruption- and the zombie.

 

Leon had no ideas, no solutions for this- well, he had one, but he was honestly hesitant about it. He could pull out his knife and try to cut his hair out- but not only did he think it would take just a bit too long to cut and the tyrant wouldn't allow all that time to be used for that, but he wanted to keep his hair the way it was.

 

However, it didn't seem like he needed an idea at all. The tyrant let go of his hair, and with what sounded like an angry huff, it stood up straight. Leon let out one last pathetic sound, this time of relief, as he was released.

 

The tyrant seemed to dislike the idea of anything else getting in the way of it's... whatever it was doing- because it quickly took care of the zombie with a nice fist-sized hole in the chest.

 

Leon took this time to scramble up, nearly failing due to the uneven pile of boards underneath him sliding around, but he got up and began jogging away.

 

He didn't even think or listen for anything, just pressed forward to leave the scene.

 

He rushed out of the library the same way he came in, sprinting away as fast as he could and running in the direction of his safe room.

 

-

 

When he got into the hallway, he finally slowed down, breath quick and heavy, eyes a bit wide. He walked toward the staircase, looking around frantically to ensure he had no company.

 

Now that he was separated from the being.. he had time to think.

 

Quickly, those thoughts that desperately wanted in begun to flood his head. What was that? He brushed his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face, only then his mind played the scene over again. He felt the beastly hands in his hair again, lifting his face up just to get a look at him. Fuck, the feeling of being held and moved like that... it was all coming back.

 

The heat, the arousal from earlier. Why? Why was this happening? Why in all of this was he feeling so horny?

 

He opened the door to his safe room, stumbling in and closing the door. He leaned against the closed door, still panting heavily. It all hit him again so fast, like a wave, crashing down on him as his recent encounter played over and over in his head.

 

"No, no, no, no..." He fussed, fidgeting with his vest.

He couldn't deny these feelings that were spreading all throughout his body, and he definitely couldn't deny that these thoughts were making them worse.

 

He pulled away from the door, pacing a little as he tried desperately to grasp at something, anything to make sense of this situation. What had happened originally when he first started feeling this? What was the last thing that happened?

 

Right, he had faced the tyrant again... it wasn't just that, was it? No, there had to be something, hadn't there? He wasn't attracted to the creature, was he? He remembered being cornered, and the helpless feeling that came along with it, but most of all he remembered how he got out of that.

 

The acid. He shot it with acid. And the acid hit him on the face. But that couldn't have been it. It was acid, not some magic sex potion.

 

Right?

 

He grunted and reached back to get his vest off again. He couldn't take it anymore, the heat building inside was too much, his groin was starting to ache for friction, and his stomach was turning with butterflies.

 

He yanked off his vest, unbuttoning his shirt a bit. But as he got about halfway done, he started to feel a bit frantic. He walked over to the box he stored his items in and sat on top of it again, leaning back against the wall. His hands rested on his thighs and rubbed quickly, his breathing not calming. He panted like a dog.

 

Guilt and shame were the biggest feelings besides the arousal right now. How fucking dare he feel so selfishly horny when the city needed him? There were people dying left and right out there, and here he was about to jerk off to the thought of the tyrant.

 

Oh, fuck, the tyrant. He allowed- because what other choice did he have- his mind to be flooded with images and thoughts and his body with feelings. The view of the towering figure as it chased him, the adrenaline it gave, the sense of danger and fear. Maybe that's what it was. He wasn't attracted to the tyrant, he was afraid of it. Which, ultimately, made him attracted to it.

 

He fumbled with his belt, allowing himself to mindlessly undress his crotch as he thought about it all. He kept reliving the recent scene in his head, nibling and sucking on his bottom lip as he pictured the tryant's cold gaze, its hand so effortlessly and gently holding him up by his hair.

 

When his belt was off, he barely even pulled his pants down before he was already palming himself through his boxers. His mouth hung open, his red, wet lip finally free from the previous abuse, and his eyes shut closed on contact. He was already pretty erect, and hardening by the second.

 

Those hips of his couldn't stay still either, starting to pathetically grind up into his hand, the symphony of moans and groans pouring out of his plump lips.

 

He had finally given in, finally at some point given up any denial. He let himself feel needy and aroused, he let the lewd thoughts of the monster flood his mind, and he just let go.

 

It was going to be a long night.

 

Notes:

Yeah. It was the acid.
The FUCKING ACID WAS AN APHRODISIAC LMFAOOO
I've got chapter 3 almost done, so dw, unless i get a job or smt (unlikely) it shouldn't be as long of a wait!
♡
(Edit: yeah, about that....)

Chapter 3: Fuck.

Summary:

(Any edits you get notified of or anything will be typo correction!)

Notes:

HELLO. I am SO SORRY for the major delay!! I said it would be quick but oh boy… lots of life happened and it caused depression and writer’s block to be BAD. Had to just try and focus on school, volunteer work, and when I had free time I wanted to focus on what would make me happy. So i wrote this sometimes but I didn’t do a lot of work on it. That’s probably evident in the quality of this but ANYWAYS I HOPE THIS IS AT LEAST OK!!
Also first aid spray as lube.

JUST A WARNING ANYWAYSSSS

It wasn't enough, it wasn't nearly enough.

He tried so hard to enjoy it, just stroking his cock, but it wasn't nearly enough.

It didn't help that he couldn't get comfortable, that the heat he was feeling had him shifting all around, moving from one place to another.
At this point he found himself on the desk in the room, having carefully removed the annoying obstacles from his seat and sprawling himself on top of it.

His fingers worked themselves inside of his ass, pumping back and forth and spreading to try and stretch himself out. For some reason he craved such feelings right now- being stretched out, pumped full of something.

He had used one of the only things he could think of for lube- his first aid spray. When he first began to finger himself, he had completely discarded the idea of a lubricant, but quickly changed his mind, grabbing it from off of the now messy floor and spraying it on his puckered hole.

It worked wonders, surprisingly. After all, it wasn't like it could do any damage.

Now he lay on the cold metal table, body bent a bit for access, a troubling position, really. He was nearly sitting up, one arm used to prop himself up a bit and the other reached forward over his body, giving his hand access to his needy hole.

Frustration brewed inside him, along with the pleasure, but the latter was no override of the former which had him fussing about. As much as he was yearning for and hating the lack of Stimulation on his cock - and, of course, still yearning for more than simply his fingers inside - he was also trying desperately to push away all of the thoughts from before.

There was really no use as the thoughts of the tyrant, in all its oddly attractive might, were not only relentless and making his need grow even further, but he now heard the footsteps of the beast.

His heart dropped, but his cock twitched. And unexpectedly, Leon realized he didn't feel nearly as anxious as he had previously upon hearing the beast's imminent arrival every time.

Oh, Fuck, he wanted him to come in here.

He could moan, call out to let know just how badly he needed a cock inside him. No, no of course he couldn't. There was to way it wouldn't end in death. How embarrassing would that be - Someone finding his lifeless body later on, throat squeezed purple, his lower body bare, hell, maybe even with fingers still in his ass.

If only the tyrant felt the same sudden growing attraction as ..

Wait.

Leon's eyes opened from being squeezed shut as he realized. He even gasped a little and his fingers had slowed but not to a stop. He wouldn't dare stop.

If he had hit mainly the Tyrant with the acid round, that means...

No, there was no way the acid could have done this! It was merely coincidence -Simply Leon's twisted mind and body reacting to what may be a newfound kink...

Fear.

Fear he felt as the monster's footsteps only grew closer, and fear as he realized that despite the audio affirmation of imminent death, he didn't want to stop. He shifted a bit out of discomfort, his supporting arm growing ever sore and weak. It became a bit too much discomfort and he reluctantly pulled out his fingers with an all too loud whine.

God fucking damnit...

He could hardly think of what to do now, unsure of whether to get up, grab his gun and hope for the best, or keep touching himself in the hope that he could at least get off before he died.

He chose the second option, sitting upright and swiftly getting to work. He should be fine. After all, he wasn't even certain the Tyrant heard...

-Thump, Thump, Thump-

Leon, as if the part of his mind capable of rational thought had been offline up until that moment, stopped his task.

The monster was headed straight to the door.
He scrambled over to the pile of gear he left on the floor, "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, What was I thinking?" His voice was light with panic and lack of proper breathing.

Just as he reached the pile,and begun to desperately dig through, the door behind him swung open, the unmistakable metal squeak ringing out louder than anything. Louder than the heart pounding in his chest.

He turned, face flushing with heat as, he locked eyes with the beast. His hands claimed the item they searched for, but those eyes claimed his focus.

Pushing into the room, it ducked its head to fit through the door. Leon kept watching, eyes locked on to the large beast, all the while turning to face properly face it, his hands, shaky as they were from it all, raised with the gun grasped tight.

It must have been a hilarious sight, Leon thought, a man holding a gun toward you while wearing nothing but his shirts, the blue uniform one dawning the badge he was supposed to be representing and respecting.

But the tyrant didn't laugh- not that it was likely it was even capable- instead, it stood there letting the door close behind it. Being this close again, Leon was able to get a good look at its features, all while anticipating its attack.

However, the tyrant seemed to be getting a good look at Leon as well- only its gaze traveled beyond his pretty face. The tyrant seemed to be looking him over, terrifying gaze stopping at the sight below the belt.

Lean felt blood rush to his checks, a sound similar to a grunt escaping from him. How embarrassing. He breathed heavily, “Hey-" He pushed out the words,brows furrowing in reaction to how hard it seemed to talk, his voice trembled, "don't look there!" It was a pathetic and silly demand - but the tyrant complied.

It wasn't easy to ignore the tyrant's size at every given moment, broad shoulders with a ratio over its waist, no doubt an indicator of a bulky, muscular frame. Something was different about its stance right now, however.

The large hands at the end of its thick arms were not balled into fists like normal. They seemed needy, opening and closing with no established rhythm as if grasping for something, coping with a lack of something in its hands, or maybe... expressing its desire to grab at the thing in front of it.

It began to step closer, and Leon’s breath only continued to shake, escaping from his mouth in a fearful sigh. He adjusted his fingers on his gun, training his aim onto the tyrant’s head.

The monster reached forward, grabbing the front of the gun in its needy hand. Leon couldn’t even be mad or surprised, only anxious and intimidated. The only reaction he could muster was a pathetic, “Please!”
He wasn’t sure exactly what he was pleading for- for the monster to let go of his gun, for it to have mercy on him, or for its touch.

Whichever of these it could be, they were all initially ignored. The tyrant pulled the gun out of his hand, tossing it behind onto the floor, surprisingly easily as Leon’s hands seemed to lessen their grip. Why? Why did he just let it take the gun?

In this moment of vulnerability, the monster reaches out and snatches Leon’s throat with its gloved hand. A jolt of electricity- both fearful and excited- shot through Leon’s body. Fuck, he knew it. How could he make such a mistake? Such a stupid, embarrassing, dishonorable mistake?

Leon’s eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. He expects to slip away, for his vision to fade to black, for the tightness of suffocation to begin in his chest- but none of it came. The squeeze around his throat was barely anything, just a hold, as if it just wanted to keep him in place. His hands, of course instinctively, had reached up to hold around it’s wrist.

He wasn’t able to open his eyes, something about the situation, the fear coursing through his veins, the tactile sensation of his sweat dripping down his forehead, it was making it difficult every time he went to open his eyes again. Maybe he knew it would be easier to accept his fate, to keep his eyes closed and let it wash over him.

However, the only thing that washed over him was relief and pleasure, when suddenly he felt leather brushing down his abdomen. He gasped, his already tense body nearly flinching at the touch. He felt heat, so much heat, all building around where the tyrant touched him, and especially in his face. Slowly the realization was settling in- it really wasn’t going to kill him. At least not before it got some time with him.

The leather felt like heaven against his skin, large fingers trailing down until they met with his cock. Oh, his poor needy cock. The second the tips of it’s fingers met with it, he was surprised he didn’t come right there. He let in a sharp gasp, one hand reaching upward and gripping up further on the monster’s arm, and the other still holding it’s wrist to his throat.

The beautiful sensation only lasted seconds, before the beast pulled it’s hands away. Only then did Leon’s eyes snap open, lips parted, a mixture of disbelief, confusion, and desire painted across his features. He continued to hold the tyrant’s arm, stepping forward slightly as it had pulled away. He looked up at it, it’s inhumane gaze remaining fixated on him as well.

His eyes darted between those white eyes, his face contorting as he gathered his words, mind racing with every reason he should and shouldn’t do this, “Please, I…” He began, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. His fingers dug into the leather of its sleeve, “I need you.”

The tyrant, as per usual, kept its stoic expression as it looked down at Leon. The look on the rookie’s face- furrowed brows, watery eyes, plump parted lips, all expressing such desperation- was enough to make it comply almost immediately.

It wasted no time, picking Leon up under the shoulders and sitting him on the table. There was a shift in the energy, now the intensity was amplified, and Leon wanted nothing more than this. The tyrant seemed to want it just as badly, because as soon as it set Leon down, it was tugging at its trench coat to get it off, not breaking its gaze on Leon.

Leon watched it get undressed, shifting a bit to get comfortable. The tyrant continued to rip its trenchcoat off, revealing its textured and toned body. His eyes trailed over the large frame in front of him, caught on every detail, every bit of the texture. As his gaze dropped, it froze in place at the very obvious sight of its bulge.

Leon huffed, “Holy shit…”

Suddenly, it was far too hot in there. He pulled off the rest of his shirts, starting with the blue over shirt that he had only unbuttoned and quickly reaching his arms over his head, fingers digging into the fabric and yanking the shirt over his head.

In the short period his view was obstructed by the shirt, he felt a chill go up his spine.

Knowing the large beast was in front of him, that his life was entirely in its hands- it was thrilling. It shouldn’t have been, and he knew that, but it was. It didn’t help that during this moment, he felt the leather of the beast’s gloves against his thighs, fingers brushing along almost gently. He pulled the shirt away, hair all messed up and slightly staticy from the friction. His eyes were met with the white, piercing eyes of the tyrant.

Before he knew it, he was laying on his back with the large beast leaning over him. It was surreal, and he could barely take the reality of it in. All he could take in was the fear and the aching need. His legs bent at the knees, and he inched them apart. He couldn’t break the eye contact, even when the tyrant looked away he was still stuck staring at its face.

His body jolted with surprise when he felt the same smooth texture of its gloved finger against his entrance, rubbing along the hole with purpose. His hands were at his sides, holding the edge of the table, gripping. He didn’t realize how tense he was until it had touched his hole. He tried to relax his body as it eased its finger in, leaning his head back, the sensation making his breath shake.

The stretch wasn’t painful considering he already had his own two fingers inside of himself, but the finger was much bigger than his in comparison. He was no longer empty, and this fact was enough to send him spiraling. He had the finger of a monster inside of him in the middle of a citywide zombie crisis.

He got lost in the feeling as the monster dragged its finger back and forth inside of him, the natural anal mucus being just a slight lubricant- and enough to clear off the subtle drying residue from the first aid spray, but that wasn’t much of a problem anyways. He was lucky the beast even cared to try and stretch him, though it was likely only so it wouldn’t have to struggle to fit itself in.

A soft grunt was forced out of him when a second finger was being pushed alongside the first one. It was too much too soon, but he had no room to complain. He wasn’t the one in control here, he wasn’t the strongest or the biggest one in the room, but most of all he was getting what he wanted too. At least he hoped.

His brows knitted together, mouth dropping open softly and allowing a moan to roll out past his lips, only to grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut as if to wince. It was clear the tyrant’s goal was to stretch him and not to please him, but somehow it worked out both ways along with the pain.

Emptiness washed over him as the fingers pulled back, and his ass clenched around the nothingness.

He watched as the beast finally lowered its pants, unsheathing the monstrous size from its confines. Pushing himself to his elbows, Leon was desperate for a proper gaze. The sight in front of him definitely didn’t disappoint- girthy, veiny, and paired with a sack that seemed strainingly full.

It seemed the tyrant was just as self conscious as Leon had been about the staring- well, in reality it was just impatient and ready- as it was quick to pin him back down by his chest.

The tyrant positioned him by pushing his legs to bend to nearly his chest, and it positioned itself. It pushed its hips forward and worked to ease itself in, reddened tip pushing against the loosened hole. Leon was tensing by the second, and it felt like blood rushed to his head. It felt like that every time the gravity of this situation hit him. The tyrant had pushed itself in pretty quickly, easing its pushing as it got the tip and a bit more inside.

Leon threw his head back, gasping softly, “Holy shit-!” He seethed, trying to relax, but his body nearly jolted to tensing with each second. He almost snarled, eyes peering up at the face of his pursuer. It hurt undeniably, but the aching need inside of him was enough to overpower the pain, to keep patient enough for the pleasure.

It wasn’t short before the tyrant begun to develop a pace of thrusts, each time it’s hips snapped forward sending a sharp jolt of pain through him.

He’s never had so much to think about at once. Everything was happening so fast- he had JUST got there not even two hours ago, the entire town was in bloody gorey ruin, his fellow officers were dead, and there was a giant bioweapon drilling it’s cock into his ass. Not only that, but he was discovering a couple of things about himself. Fuck, that leather looked good. Fuck, he loved how small he felt under the shadow of this beast. Fuck, he felt so scared and he fucking loved it. And fuck, he loved how full he felt.

Leon hadn’t ever felt so full. His belly had a small bulge that followed the thrusts of the beast, and at the moment he caught a glance, his eyes rolled back in what could only be described as ecstasy. Add that to the list of things he was discovering.

The tyrant, though it felt like it, was not fucking him like a ruthless fucking machine, but rather just another very horny guy. It’s thrusts were decent and not rushed, and it seemed fo hold a pretty good understanding of just how to fuck him. That, or Leon was simply infatuated due to pure pleasure and shock.

The texture was something Leon took great notice to, as it was veiny and almost wrinkly- not in a soggy and gross way, but in a tough and smooth way like the rest of it’s body, and it made for an amazing texture against his walls.

Leon was trying, he really really was, but he couldn’t NOT wail in pleasure. His mouth hung open, drying out, and with each thrust there sounded a light whimper. Most where like groans from fbe back of the throat, while others were more whiny. He would occasionally swear, whiney desperate swears or more rough, exherted curses. Thrown around about twice was a couple breathy “Oh yes”es. Whatever the noise, he couldn’t shut up.

Around their room the zombies continued to croak and creep, but by some miracle, none bothered to try and breach the room. Leon figured even if they tried they would be a bloody pulp thanks to the big guy.

It was almost painful, but soon he came untouched, ropes spurting onto his ever so slightly bulging belly. His mind went blank, his stomach aching. There was a fuzzy feeling that took over his head, his ears not quite ringing but more so full of static. His eyes were shut, but even as they fluttered opened and closed he had no vision, only a dimmed grey blur. It felt like an eternity that he was washed over with pleasure.

Soon the beast came, filling him even fuller. He felt a shockwave through his body as the last thrust was sent rippling through him. Sweat coated him like an extra layer, and he almost felt feverish. Nauseous.

The tyrant pulled out, and it just… stood there, blankly, clothing itself back up like it was nothing. Leon meanwhile felt himself getting dizzy. He felt this rush… this rush of dread and realization.

He tried to sit up, groaning in all of his pathetic pain, frustrated, satisfied, and exhausted.

He looked down at the mess he made on the table, the cum that had dribbled out of his ass.

“Geez… hope the janitor doesn’t see me walking out of hERE-“

Suffocation. There were fingers around his throat, and as if he could fully breath before, he felt himself losing the ability completely. His eyes shot open wide. Pain surged throughout his upper body.

Was this really how he was going to die? During an apocalyptic crisis, having supposed to have been an on duty officer even in the face of it all, hooking up with a monster and having his neck snapped while his ass was still dripping cum?

He struggled, his body flailing and his shaking arms exerting force to try and break away the tyrant’s unrelenting grip.

He was fading, black splotches crawled across his field of view like spreading mold, and his hands slipped from the beast’s arms, laying limp in the air.

Just then, the door to the room swung open, and the sound rang out in his ears, followed by a light gasp. The grip on his throat loosened ever so slightly, and that will to live, which never left, pushed him to take in as much air as he could with barely any time to process what was happening.

He couldn’t make out any words, but there was shouting, a very familiar voice, and then gunfire.

Next thing he knew, his body was flung across the room, and with a thud, his head hit the wall. It was all black from there.

-

It hurt as he woke up. Everything hurt, every inch of his body. He felt heavy, he felt like he was lying in a body of water- minus the water, just the heavy, almost sinking feeling.

As he grew more conscious, the pain started to center more in specific spots. It started with his head, a soft ache on the back near the top, and then his abdomen, until finally the biggest ache and sore was at his ass.

One of the most significant details he noticed, yet unintentionally the absolute least of his focus, was that he was partially clothed.

His eyes softly flickered open, the muffled vibration buzzing through his head as the light hit his eyes, and they tried to squeeze shut each time. While he did this, he pushed himself upright from laying, groaning lightly. Then, a soft sound hit his ears.

“Hey, hey, lay back down.” The voice, undeniably Claire’s, was followed by the sound of shuffling as she got closer.

Relieved instantly to hear her voice, he forced his eyes open, “Claire?” His voice was unexpectedly hoarse, but he didn’t care. Nor did he seem to care for her instructions as he sat up fully with a grunt.

She sighed, not out of annoyance, but something similar yet lighthearted. She gently folded her arms, stepping back and sitting down in a chair. There was something in her hand- it looked like a picture frame. As Leon looked around finally to take in where he was, he realized they were in a bigger room. An office. And he was on a desk.

Claire must have brought him all the way in here… but how?? Well, now that he thought about it, he vaugely remembered standing and pressing through hallways. He must have been somewhat conscious enough to make it here with her help.

Oh.

He realized that this meant she was the one that saved him. She saw the last thing he remembered- his naked self being held at the neck by a large grey tyrant (who, for the record, was fully clothed. Super unfair.) He felt a flush hit his face as the realization sank in, not necessarily because she saw him naked. It was awkward, yes, but what was more was that there was very obvious evidence of he and the tyrant’s… activities.

That being said, he felt something else, something sort of unexpected.

He was disappointed. It was stupid, really. What else was he expecting? The monster was obviously only attracted to him sexually because of the fucking acid- which he had absolutely no energy in him to question or investigate A) the validity of that theory that it was, in fact, the acid, and B) if it was, why the FUCK they had something like that in a policr station. Why would the tyrant feel any different after it’s sexual pursuit than it did before?

Maybe Leon was just emotional like that, sentimental even. Or maybe he had just hoped that he could catch a break. Either way, it was stupid to feel disappointed. But he did all the same. He wished he could have been taken care of, he wished he had the time to recover and get dressed on his own.

“Leon.” Claire’s voice cut through his thoughts, and she was standing right in fromt of him the next thing he knew. He gasped softly, looking at her, “You okay?” Her hand was placed gently on his arm.

“Yeah.” He nodded, sighing softly, “Claire… I-“ He closed his mouth into a flat line as he considered what to say, “I’m, uh- sorry you had to-“

Her lips softly smacked as she opened her mouth quickly to interrupt, which stopped Leon from talking but she could only take a bit of a deep breath before speaking as she let it out, “Don’t. Please, don’t apologize.” Her brows furrowed softly together.

After a couple of seconds, he was left to just nod at her and give her a soft look of appreciation. He looked down at what was in her hand, “…w’s that?” he motioned his hand forward slightly toward it.

She cleared her throat, “oh, um,” she pursed her lips into an awkward face, “just uh.. a picture I was looking at.” She handed it over to Leon.

It was a picture of what looked like the S.T.A.R.S. team, and he took a second to look over it, “…Is one of these…?” He looked up at her.

She gently placed a finger over one of the people on the photo, which to Leon’s surprise was the woman in the front. His brows furrowed in confusion. He wasn’t really gonna judge if that was but… he’d be pretty confused. He had to ask, “Uh… I thought you said you were looking for your brother?” He asked a bit cautiously.

Her eyes widened softly, “OhOH- Yeah, yeah that’s- that makes more sense. My brother.” She seemed flustered, moving her finger up to gently tap on one of the people, “In the green.”

He kept his eyes on her for a second, trying to figure out that reaction and the reason behind her blunder. Upon looking at the picture again, he nodded softly, “Ah…”

It was quiet again as Claire took the picture. Suddenly there was a shift in the mood of the room as she set it down, and as Leon adjusted the way he was sitting, groaning softly from the pain.

“Leon.” She looked at him, her eyes filled with concern, “What… what happened back there?” She asked with a breathy tone, as if she was being careful with her question.

She must have thought it was something bad. Well- granted, what she walked in on was very bad, but what led to that was definitely not as bad. He had wanted every bit of that, as shameful as if was to admit, everything up until the magic sex acid seemed to have worn off all too quickly.

But how was he supposed to tell her that? How the HELL was he supposed to admit to her that he was practically begging for the big mutant to fuck him raw, that he got a splash of acid on his face that thankfully barely penetrated his skin but managed to make him extremely horny in a time like this? Surely she’d find it disgusting, surely she’d think he was trying to make up some story to make it seem like he wasn’t just having a session with himself when there were clearly more important things going on, and the tyrant caught him mid wank-

He couldn’t. He couldn’t tell her that. There was guilt, so much of if, and disgust in himself.

“Hey.” She began, which made Leon assume he was lost in finding his words again, “Look, just tell me it’s not what I think it-“

Or. Maybe he could tell her.

“I really needed it.” He spoke, his breath hitching as he did, his gut wrenching as he realized what he had just said to whom.

Her eyes were opened wide, but her expression didn’t change much. She was stunned in place.

“…What?”

 

Notes:

OKAY AGAIN I’M SO SORRY THAT TOOK SO LONG LIFE REALLY GOT IN THE WAY i hate being an adult and a student at the same time it sucks

plsss comment if you have any questions or anything at all! thank you so much for reading and stixking through and being PATIENT !!! i appreciate you sosososo much!