Shane and Ilya´s 6 year old daughter has to make a family tree for her class. llya is feeling down about not having pictures of his mother for her to put in, and then he sees she draws her with a halo over her head 😇 and she writes "grandma Irina, no photo but she looks like me, I have her eyes and her name, she looks after me." Ilya cries.
(She then also prints a dinosaur and adds it to the tree, like on the top of the tree)
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Can you write something for sinister Mark x m reader?
Some prey x predator type shit because I know for a fact that he gets off on fear, so it could be some kind of hunting game and when (there is no if.) he catches reader he’s the one to decide how he wants to ravish them? I just NEED hardcore dirt and grime smut with dacryphilia & omorashi involved, you can go about this however you want!!
Lots of loveeeee <3 - 🩰
𝐌𝐑. 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅’𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘
sinister mark x m!reader
𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒 ! ── you, an omega bunny makes the mistake of catching mark’s interest and you learn that some predators never stop chasing what they’ve claimed as theirs. and mark refuses to let his favorite prey go. | sinister is a wolf hybrid, m!reader is a netherland dwarf hybrid.
🎧 - playlist i made for spotify users to listen to while reading!
꒰ warnings. invasive, stalker-ish behavior. manhandling + implied big size difference. porn with plot. fear kink. omorashi. romanticized NON-CON; having sex in mud, missionary (folded + side swept), deep throat, breeding/being impregnated, dumbification. ꒱
It didn’t take a genius to understand how the world worked.
Predators and prey.
The distinction has existed long before language, before civilizations, and even before fire itself. Even now, centuries after society had supposedly moved beyond such primitive instincts, with laws and technology that stretched across continents, nobody could truly escape them as they were buried beneath skin and bone.
It was woven into the very foundation of life and no amount of modernization could completely erase millions of years of evolution.
Everyone knew it.
Especially prey.
The only difference was that now they wore suits, paid taxes, and pretended otherwise.
Felines lounged in expensive penthouses while deer hurried through crowded streets. Foxes grinned with too many teeth for comfort. Bears occupied positions of power. Hawks stalked from above. Rats thrived in hidden corners of cities or their tiny homes while sheep gathered in comfortable communities where they felt safe among their own kind.
Most hybrids learned to coexist.
Most.
Because instincts however, were another matter entirely.
No matter how modern society became, nobody could completely suppress what nature had designed them to be.
A bunny would always recognize a fox or wolf.
A mouse would always fear a snake.
And predators?
They never stopped noticing prey. As if that wasn’t enough, society was divided by a second hierarchy layered over the first.
Alphas, betas, and omegas.
Betas made up the majority of the population and generally lived ordinary lives. Alphas possessed stronger instincts and stronger pheromones—they naturally commanded attention whenever they were around.
Omegas were rarer.
Far rarer.
Sensitive to scents and instinctual cues. Often viewed as vulnerable regardless of whether they actually were.
For predator omegas, life could be difficult.
For prey omegas, life could be terrifying.
And unfortunately for you, fate decided to make you both.
A bunny. An omega.
A combination that attracted attention all the time.
Most days, you managed.
You kept your small ears hidden beneath hoods. You avoided dangerous neighborhoods. You ignored the lingering stares from strangers who caught your scent in crowded spaces.
Tonight wasn’t the kind of night you could manage.
The city streets felt wrong.
Too empty and too silent.
Your bunny ears twitch beneath the hood of your sweater as you hurried along the road.
The sensation started as a simple feeling—being watched. Your heartbeat quickened and you glanced behind you.
Nothing.
Just empty sidewalks, a few flickering streetlights, no footsteps. Not even movement of trash tumbling in the light breeze. Yet the feeling refused to disappear.
The problem was that you didn’t know what was causing this fear. Not yet.
Hidden among the shadows of an alley, glowing eyes followed your every move. Tall ears tilted forward as he listened to the frantic rhythm of your heartbeat from several blocks away.
Patient, amused, even starving.
And there you were—so small compared to him and such fragile prey.
Sinister remained crouched behind a dumpster, one hand resting on the ground to stabilize himself and a grin spread across his face.
Most prey disappointed him.
You were different. You could feel him even from over there!
And yet, the hunt hadn’t even begun and you were already afraid without knowing you were actively playing with him.
—
Something moved behind you.
A figure emerged from the mouth of a narrow alley so casually that, under different circumstances, you might have mistaken him for someone simply heading home after work or leaving a friend's place.
Dark jeans and a charcoal jacket left partially unzipped, hands tucked into his pockets.
Your steps faltered. There was nothing that should have been alarming, yet everything in your body erupted into panic the moment his eyes landed on you.
You couldn’t smell him before, now you could.
He’s not only a wolf, but an alpha.
Your bunny ears twitched violently beneath your hood.
The stranger’s head tilted slightly and a smile pulled at his lips.
It wasn’t friendly at all. It was more like he’d finally found something he’s been looking to play with. Something fascinating and so sweet smelling.
“Well,” he said softly.
“Ah!”
The sound that left you was humiliating.
A tiny squeak.
The kind of sound a frightened prey animal made, and the kind of sound that made predators excited to hear.
Your eyes widened.
HIs smile widened too.
You spun around and bolted down the street with every ounce of speed your little legs could manage. The sudden movement sent your hood flying backward, and two soft bunny ears immediately sprang free.
The sensation barely registered. You were too busy trying not to die. Behind you, however—
His eyes widened. “…A bunny?” His eyes followed the movement of your ears as they bounced with every frantic step.
Of all the prey animals he could have stumbled across.. a bunny. An omega bunny!
The universe clearly liked him today.
“…No way.” His grin slowly spread. Then spread further—until it bordered on unsettling.
That explained so much.
And those ears—small and rounded. Not the long elegant ears of larger rabbit breeds.
It was cute.
Ridiculously cute.
He actually laughed. A low sound that echoed into the lonely, night air. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
༶•┈┈୨୧┈┈•༶
Meanwhile, you were rapidly discovering that being terrified made it difficult to think.
A bunny wasn’t built for fighting. You were built for one thing.
Running.
And right now, you were putting that evolutionary advantage to use.
The city blurred around you. Streetlights. Storefronts. Passing cars. Everything became a streak of color.
Your bunny ears flattened against your head as you ran.
Don’t look back. Don’t look back.
Don’t—
Curiosity won.
You glanced over your shoulder.
The wolf was grinning and he wasn’t even trying.
He walked after you at first, hands still in his pockets. Completely relaxed. As if he already knew how this would end.
Why did he look so confident?
Why did he look so happy?
The answer arrived a moment later.
Sinister looked directly in your large eyes, then he started running. And suddenly the distance between you started disappearing.
Far too fast. The kind of speed nature had gifted wolves specifically so rabbits would never feel completely safe.
“N- No, no, no, no—”
You darted around a corner. Then another and another, desperately trying to lose him.
The city quickly became a maze. People became obstacles. You nearly crashed into a pair of deer hybrids waiting at a crosswalk. One startled look at your face was enough for them to step aside.
You kept running.
A fox hybrid exiting a convenience store blinked as you flew past. Then immediately moved out of the way after spotting the massive wolf several yards behind you.
Nobody intervened.
Nobody was stupid enough to get involved.
Not when an alpha predator looked that focused and that interested.
Sinister followed at an easy pace. He wasn’t even breathing hard, but you were fast, he’d give you that. Faster than most prey. Quick on your feet. Exactly what you’d expect from a Netherland Dwarf. But panic made prey predictable.
He could practically see your instincts making decisions for you. And his grin never faded.
He should have ended the chase already. Could have, very easily. Yet every time he got close enough to catch you, he slowed down. Just enough to allow hope to return. Allowing you to think maybe you’d escape.
Then he’d close the distance again to watch your panic spike all over. Watching those little bunny ears pin back tighter.
It was fascinating.
—
You glanced back again and your foot caught on an uneven section of pavement.
The world tilted for a moment and you stumbled.
Another squeaky sound escaped your throat. For one horrible second you thought you were going down. Somehow you caught yourself and kept running.
But the damage was done.
Mark’s eyes widened slightly, then narrowed. Something possessive flashed across his expression.
Ahead, your vision blurred. Your lungs burned. And you knew you couldn’t keep this up forever. Every breath came in short, frantic gasps as you sprinted through unfamiliar streets, desperately searching for somewhere—anywhere—to hide.
The sound of approaching footsteps never fully disappeared.
Your ears flattened tighter against your head as you darted around another corner. Then your eyes widened.
A children's park.
The small fenced playground sat mostly abandoned beneath the glow of nearby streetlights. Colorful plastic play structures cast long shadows across the ground. A slide. Monkey bars. A tiny plastic tunnel. A playhouse.
Your racing mind immediately latched onto one thought.
Everything was small, made for children. Made for someone much smaller than a fully grown wolf hybrid. Hope surged through your chest and without hesitation, you vaulted the low fence and sprinted across the playground.
The tiny plastic playhouse was too exposed. The slide offered nowhere to hide. The tunnel was perfect.
Well, perfect was a generous description because it was cramped, even for you. But you were a Netherland Dwarf hybrid. Small enough that people constantly underestimated just how tiny you actually were and could be.
Dropping to your knees, you quickly squeezed inside. The tunnel barely accommodated you. Plastic pressed against your shoulders, your bunny ears folded awkwardly against your head, but it worked. You crawled deeper inside until you reached the middle. Then you curled up as tightly as possible and waited.
Silence.
Your heart hammered against your ribs.
Thump, thump, thump.
Surely he’d lose track of you, right?
There was no way someone his size could fit in here. No way he'd bother checking the children's playground. No way—
But footsteps were approaching.
You squeaked quietly as your blood ran cold.
The footsteps suddenly stopped. Silence returned.
You squeezed your eyes shut and pleaded internally.
“That was clever.” His voice sounded amused. “I’ll give you points for creativity, bunny.”
The casual nickname made your stomach churn unpleasantly. You pressed both hands over your mouth. Maybe if you stayed quiet—
A shadow fell across the tunnel entrance.
There was no way he could see you. The tunnel curved and the center section was hidden! He shouldn’t know you were here. Then again—
“Oh, come on.” Mark sounded almost offended. “You didn’t think that would actually work, did you?”
A small, terrified noise escaped your throat before you could stop it. Immediately regretting it, you clamped both hands tighter over your mouth.
Outside, Mark laughed. “There you are.”
The wolf crouched near the entrance. Not trying to reach inside. Not trying to drag you out. Just looking. Like he was enjoying this far too much.
Which, judging by the grin on his face, he absolutely was.
The scent of frightened omega practically filled the air around the playground.
Normally he would’ve ended the chase by now.
Normally the novelty would’ve worn off.
But this?
A tiny bunny rabbit hiding in playground equipment because the big bad wolf was chasing him.
The situation was ridiculous and somehow that made it even better.
Inside the tunnel, you pulled your knees tighter against your chest. If you stayed here long enough, he’d get bored.
Predators got bored, right?
One minute. Two. Three.
Neither of you moved.
Then Mark spoke again. “You know,” he said casually, “I was planning on going easy on you.”
Your ears twitched.
“You started running.. and then I found out you’re a rabbit.”
A pause.
“That really didn’t help your case.”
Your face burned. That wasn’t fair! None of this was fair. You hadn’t done anything. You just happened to exist.
Unfortunately, judging by the wolf sitting outside your hiding place with that patient smile on his face, that seemed to be more than enough.
He wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
༶•┈┈୨୧┈┈•༶
Twenty minutes passed.
At some point, your legs had stopped shaking so violently. Your breathing had steadied. And the crushing panic that had been suffocating you since the chase began had settled into something else.
Cautious hope.
Because the wolf had gone quiet.
Very quiet.
The silence stretched on for so long that you started wondering if he’d finally left.
Your ears twitched. Listening... and nothing.
Had he gotten bored? Maybe he’d realized this wasn’t worth his time. Slowly, carefully, you shifted inside the tunnel. The plastic creaked softly beneath you. A tiny bit more confidence returned.
Enough to make a terrible decision.
You began crawling toward the entrance with your heart pounding against your ribs. The tunnel opening grew closer. A sliver of moonlight spilled inside.
You stopped right before reaching it.
Listened.. nothing again.
Maybe he was really gone.
Your ears poked out first. Then the top of your head. Then your eyes. You cautiously peeked outside.
The playground was empty.
No wolf.
No—
A flash of movement.
Something dropped from above.
Your startled squeak barely had time to leave your throat before a hand shot toward you.
“Got you—” Mark's voice sounded far more excited than it had any right to.
You immediately jerked backward.
The grab missed. Mostly.
“Eeek!” You scrambled desperately deeper into the tunnel but the movement wasn’t fast enough—Mark’s hand closed on something. The back of your jacket, the fabric near the nape.
For a brief second, both of you froze.
You stared at the hand clutching your jacket.
Mark stared at the handful of fabric he’d managed to catch. Then his grin slowly widened. “Oh, that’s lucky.”
Your eyes widened in horror and you immediately grabbed the front of the tunnel with both hands. “No!”
He shifted until he was sitting comfortably on top of the tunnel.
Apparently, during those twenty minutes, he’d climbed up there without making a sound.
“Welp, now I've got you.” He sounded entirely too pleased with himself.
“Let go!” You pulled harder but his grip didn’t budge.
“No.”
“Why not?!”
“Because I caught you.”
What kind of answer was that?
Meanwhile, Mark looked delighted. His tail swayed lazily behind him. The moment you’d peeked your head out, his self-control had vanished.
He’d seen those little bunny ears. Seen those big, cautious eyes. Seen the hopeful expression that said maybe the scary wolf had finally left.
And before he could stop himself, he’d tried to grab you.
Unfortunately, his excitement had made him sloppy. Had you reacted a fraction slower, he would’ve had your wrist. Instead he’d ended up with a fistful of jacket.
Still.
A win was a win.
Inside the tunnel, you gave another determined yank. Nothing. The wolf wasn’t even straining. Your entire body moved yet his hand didn’t even tremble.
Which was horribly unfair and completely expected from an alpha wolf.
“Come on, bunny.”
The nickname made your ears twitch irritably again.
“I don’t want to.”
“You’ve made that very clear.”
A pause.
“You know,” he mused, “most prey don’t hide in playground equipment.”
“Most prey aren’t being chased by a giant wolf!”
“Hm, fair.”
And while you’d spent the last several minutes treating the tunnel like an anchor point, Mark seemed to have finally decided he’d indulged you long enough.
The tension on your jacket increased. Slowly and steadily.
“Wait!" The fabric pulled taut as you tightened your grip on the tunnel. “Wait, wait—”
Your hands slipped.
Mark gave one firm pull.
You were dragged several inches toward the entrance.
“Ah! Stop it! Stop!"
He continued pulling anyways, steadily reeling you in as though your resistance barely registered.
You kicked your feet against the plastic. The tunnel echoed with scraping sounds. Your fingers clawed. Nothing worked.
Moonlight spilled over your face.
And then—
You were out.
A startled squeak escaped you as the wolf effortlessly lifted you clear of the tunnel. The ground vanished beneath your feet.
Your entire body instinctively curled inward. Knees drawing up. Bunny ears flattening. Arms tucked close to your chest. As though making yourself smaller would somehow help.
You hung several feet above the ground, suspended entirely by the back of your jacket.
Mark stared.
And stared.
And stared.
The sight was almost enough to make him forget what he’d been doing.
The bunny had literally curled up midair.
Like some instinctive defense mechanism.
For a moment, the wolf simply admired his catch.
His voice sounded almost dreamy, “You know I’m stronger than you, right?”
You glared. Or at least attempted to.
The effect was somewhat diminished by the fact that you were currently dangling like a misplaced plush toy. “I noticed.”
He chuckled as he adjusted his grip slightly, just enough to keep you comfortable. Which was an entirely different problem.
“You really thought the tunnel would save you.”
“It almost did.”
“No. It did not.”
“It stopped you!”
“Barely. But, you know what the worst part is?”
“I don’t want to know.”
“I’m going to tell you anyways." You grunted and Sinister ignored it. “When I first saw you, I knew you were prey. Then I knew you were an omega. And when your hood fell off?" His grin widened.
“Oh no.”
You immediately knew where this was going.
“Oh yes. The ears came out.”
You buried your face in your hands.
“Your wittle bunny ears.” He mocked, looking delighted.
“Stop.”
“A tiny bunny.”
“Please.. stop.”
Sinister listened. For a moment at least—content to simply stand there with one hand in his pocket, the other holding the back of your jacket. Eventually, he tilted his head, dark eyes meeting yours.
“So.”
“So?” you repeated cautiously.
“So what exactly was your plan after the tunnel?”
“…I was hoping you’d leave.”
The silence that followed lasted two seconds before Mark burst out laughing. “Oh, yeah?”
“Mhm,” you hesitated.
His laugh grew louder, echoing across the empty playground.
“Oh my—” he exhaled between laughs, shoulders shaking. “You’re dumber than I thought!”
Your stomach dropped. "What?"
His hand tightened slightly on your jacket—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you exactly how easily he could. You flinched anyway.
“Oh, don't do that,” he said, voice dripping with amusement as he started to shake you. “I'm starting to like you.”
You squeaked instinctively, feet kicking uselessly at open air. Sinister clicked his tongue like he was scolding you. "Careful, pipsqueak."
"YOU did that!"
"I made a small adjustment," he corrected.
“It’s embarrassing,” he continued lightly, tilting his head again, “just thinking about the fact that you’re still alive. And you still have attitude."
“I didn’t do anything,” you said, voice strained.
“Oh?” The wolf leaned in slightly, his eyes sharpening, interest flickering back in like a switch had been flipped. “That’s the problem."
His smile softened. “You didn’t do anything,” he repeated, slower this time. “And yet you ran the moment you saw me. So, I followed."
"...That's stalking."
"Hunting."
"It's still stalking!"
“It's instinct.” He gave a small, amused shrug, like he didn't care about legal distinctions. His grip shifted again, and this time he lifted you a fraction higher, forcing you to look up at him fully. “How long did you think you could survive like that?” he asked quietly. “Really.”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.
Sinister watched the silence stretch, then exhaled like he was mildly disappointed. “Prey like you always think distance equals safety,” he said, almost conversational. “Hiding spots. Corners. Little tunnels.”
His eyes flicked briefly toward the playground structure behind you.
“Temporary things.”
Then back to you.
“But you’re still here,” he added, voice dipping slightly. “So I guess I should give you a little credit.”
That should have sounded like praise. It didn’t. Not with the way he said it. Your ears twitched despite yourself.
“There it is, bunny,” he murmured.
“..What?”
He leaned back slightly, still holding you suspended, watching you like you were doing something fascinating without realizing it. “You’re not just scared. You’re responsive.. like, very responsive.”
Your face heated instantly. “I’m—”
His grip suddenly shifted, just like his energy. Your stomach dropped the instant his arm moved.
“Wait!”
The protest barely left your mouth before the world tilted.
He lifted you fully. No effort—just one smooth motion as if you weighed nothing at all. Like's he's finally decided something.
He was already turning away from the playground and started walking.
The playground lights faded behind you as he crossed the fence without slowing down, stepping into the darker stretch of trees bordering the park.
Your breathing spiked immediately.
“P- Please, stop—”
Branches shifted overhead. The city noise dulled. Everything grew quieter the deeper he went, until all you could hear was your own heartbeat and the steady rhythm of his steps.
You twisted slightly in his grip. “Where are you taking me?!”
“I don’t want anyone watching.”
You stopped struggling for half a second. “…W-what?”
He kept walking. Branches brushed past his shoulders as he moved deeper into the trees. Moonlight broke through in thin stripes, cutting across his face—dark eyes steady, focused ahead like you were already a done decision.
“I said,” he continued, “I don’t want anyone seeing us out there.”
Us? That didn't sit right with you.
“I didn’t do anything!” you blurted again, voice cracking slightly. “I just— I was just running!”
Sinister let out a soft sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “It’s not about what you did,” he said. He adjusted his grip slightly, holding you more securely against his side as he walked—like you were something that belonged there now.
“It’s about what you are,” he added.
The forest seemed darker after that. The trees thicker. The path less visible. You tried to look back toward the park, but it was already gone behind the trunks. The deeper you went into the trees, the worse your instincts got.
Mark finally stopped. Not in a clearing that looked safe. Not anywhere that made sense. Just a patch of uneven ground between twisted roots and low hanging branches where the forest floor dipped slightly into soft, wet earth.
You barely had time to process it before you were dropped.
“Ugh!”
Your body hit the ground with a dull, messy impact. Cold. Wet. Mud soaked into your clothes immediately, clinging to fabric and skin alike. You scrambled instinctively, trying to push yourself up—
But a shadow fell over you.
Mark dropped down with you. Like gravity meant nothing to him. He landed directly above you, one knee planted beside your hip, pinning the space around you without fully crushing you—but making escape feel instantly impossible.
Your breath hitched. “W-wait—!”
The wolf didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned in.
His nose moved slightly as he inhaled slowly. His attention wasn’t on your face. It was on your scent.
“No—don’t—!”
A hand caught your wrist before you could even finish moving. Mark hummed softly, almost thoughtfully, as if confirming something only he could understand.
Then his free hand moved... curiously?
He ran his fingers along your sleeve first, then your shoulder, testing, feeling, mapping you out like you were something unfamiliar he wanted to understand fully.
Your ears snapped upright in panic.
And that’s when his attention sharpened.
“Oh…”
It was quiet. Almost pleased.
His hand shifted immediately to your head.
You flinched hard. “Stop—!”
His fingers closed around one of your bunny ears. Not pulling harshly. Just holding it. Tilting it slightly as if inspecting how it worked.
Sinister tilted his head.
“So sensitive,” he murmured.
His hand moved again—briefly brushing your tail, then your hips, then your back. You shook under him, mud sticking to your clothes, humiliation and fear mixing into something you couldn’t untangle.
Your hands pushed against the ground, trying to twist free from beneath him. Your legs kicked weakly, slipping against wet earth and roots. “Let me go!”
"Stop it," Mark growled quietly, before he pulled your pants down, the fabric tearing with a satisfying, almost violent sound.
He didn't bother with finesse—he immediately positioned his large cock at the entrance of your tight, trembling hole and pushed.
“A- aaahhh!!” Your eyes flew wide, brimming with sudden, fat tears that spilled down your cheeks. A broken, high pitched squeak escaped you as your body was forced to stretch around the sheer girth of Mark’s dick.
As he began to pound into you with ferocity, the sheer mounting anxiety became too much for your small body.
“Stop—wait, p-please!!”
The sound of your panicked cried and whines were like fuel to the fire in Mark’s veins.
—
He ignored the mud coating his thighs and the grit grinding between your bodies—all he could feel was the tight, agonizingly delicious friction of your ass.
“T-too big!!”
With a grunt, Mark suddenly hooked his large hands under your knees, hauling your legs upward, forcing them all the way back to your shoulders. The position was completely exposing the pink, stretching hole to the moonlight and his predatory gaze.
“Too big?" Mark rasped, his face a mask of sweat and dirt as he leaned down, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "You're gonna take all of it. You're gonna take every fucking inch."
He began to hammer into you with a more aggressive, almost heavy rhythm, his hips slamming against your pelvis with a wet, slapping sound that echoed through the trees.
The overstimulation was reaching a fever pitch. The sheer size of his cock expanding your ass to the limit.
“It is! I- It doesn’t feel right! I don’t—”
“Liar. You love how it feels.” He interrupted as he increased his pace. His thrusts became shorter but rougher; driving himself into the very depths of your tiny body, aiming for that sweet spot. “..You love being filled up like this."
“M- Mmhh! No!”
The cold mud against your skin and the scorching heat of Mark’s cock was too much. Your small noises were becoming frantic, your small body twitching uncontrollably under the onslaught.
The sheer pressure in your lower abdomen, the overwhelming sensation of being stretched to the point of bursting, reached a breaking point.
Suddenly, a warm sensation flooded the space between you both. Your bladder finally gave way under the crushing weight of the stimulation.
A warm stream of urine flooded out from your twitching cock, mixing with the dirt and the sweat of your joined bodies.
The sensation was humiliating, but Mark didn't pull away. If anything, the piss only seemed to drive his primal instincts higher—feeling the build up in his own loins reaching crescendo.
“Look at you," Mark hissed, his eyes burning with a possessive light. "So messy. What a dirty little thing.”
Even then, he let out a low chuckle as he felt your body start to go limp and tremble violently under the weight of your release.
And now, he decided he wasn't just going to cum; he was going to breed you.
He pumped his dick in one last, devastatingly deep thrust, his hips locking against yours as his knot began to swell rapidly inside the overstimulated hole.
He groaned. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, teeth sinking into the soft skin, flooding your insides with a hot, thick release.
“W- Wait—! Don’t cum in me! Get it out!” You squealed.
Sinister didn’t listen nor did he let you rest. Instead, with a grunt of exertion, he shifted his weight, manhandling you with a brute strength that felt inescapable.
He forced your legs to the side, clamping them tightly together with one dirt stained hand to stifle any attempt at kicking or escape.
The other hand moved to your hip, spreading you once more, exposing the ravaged, gaping hole.
The sight was devastating.
The pink pucker was swollen, leaking a messy mixture of thick, white cum and the remnants of mud. It looked utterly wrecked, perfectly prepared for the nasty predator currently looming over you.
You could only lie there, trembling violently, your breath coming in ragged, broken whimpers as Mark began to drive into you again.
“No—no more! I- I’m so full!”
The plea was pathetic, a broken, sobbing sound that should have triggered pity, but to Sinister, it was nothing more than a confirmation of his power.
Seeing prey like you so completely undone—physically and emotionally—sent a wave of dark satisfaction through his chest.
"Full?" He mocked, his voice a rasp.
He leaned down, his weight crushing against your heaving chest, forcing the air out of you in a sharp gasp.
"You haven't seen anything yet. And you’re going to take every last drop."
He didn't care about the tears or the way your eyes were glazed over. With a quiet growl, he began to drive back into your ass. Each thrust was aimed at bottoming out against your womb.
“A- Aah! I don’t wanna be bred! Take it out!”
The words were a frantic, desperate prayer, but to him, they sounded like a challenge.
The mention of pregnancy, the ultimate act of claiming a potential mate sent a jolt of pure excitement through his spine. The idea of you carrying his scent, his mark, his actual offspring, made the wolf in his gut snarl with a possessive glee.
"That’s exactly what a little bunny like you is for." Mark hissed.
He wanted to hammer his seed so deep into your core that it became a part of you. Every time his hips slammed against yours, he felt the your insides twitching, trying to accommodate the unrelenting intrusion.
Your wails and squeals were becoming incoherent, lost in the rhythmic, wet slapping of bodies and the heavy sounds of his breathing.
༶•┈┈୨୧┈┈•༶
The forest was no longer a place of peace. The air was thick with the suffocating, musky scent of sweat, forest loam, and the sweet aroma of bunny pheromones.
A loud, sickeningly wet squelch echoed through the trees. The sound of his massive cock plunging into a hole that was already overflowing with the thick, creamy evidence of his previous bust.
"Look at how much you can take," he grunted, his voice a jagged, strained wreck. He leaned down, his face inches from your tear streaked, flushed visage. "Listen to that... you're practically drowning in it. You're nothing but a little breeding vessel for me, aren't you?"
You could only let out broken sobs, head tossing wildly from side to side in the wet ground.
"Aaaah! H—hah...! No, noo!"
And Mark could feel the familiar, agonizing swell of his knot beginning to expand once more, an aching pressure that forced him to bury himself as deep as physically possible.
He let out a long, guttural groan, his fingers digging hard into your hips that he was certain would leave permanent marks.
SPLAT.
With a final, devastating lunge, his knot locking tight against the entrance of your desolate hole. The sensation of being irrevocably sealed inside a bunny was intoxicating to him.
“E—eek!! Oh no!”
"There..." he gasped, body convulsing as he erupted a hot torrent of hot, sticky seed into you. "There you go. Take it all... take it, you little slut.”
He could feel the heat of his cum overflowing your tiny, overstretched womb, painting the very depths of your guts white.
But, he didn't just want to satisfy his lust. He wanted to saturate you. As the throbbing of his knot finally began to recede again, Mark felt a dark sense of completion.
He was still panting, his chest heaving with the exertion of the “hunt,” but the predatory madness in his eyes had softened into a dazed, possessive glow.
He didn't pull away gently—he gripped your hips one last time and surged backward with a sudden, violent force.
POP!
You let out a weak gasp.
The sound of his massive cock sliding out was loud in the quiet forest, a final, lewd exclamation of his conquest.
As the seal broke, a messy mixture of cum, urine, and mud spilled out of your devastated entrance, coating your thighs in a pale, sticky slurry.
Your body, absolutely spent and utterly broken, finally went limp..
You collapsed back into the cold muck, your limbs splayed out uselessly, small frame twitching with the aftershocks of the overstimulation. You looked like a discarded doll, eyes glazed and rolling back, breath coming in shallow, hitching gasps.
And unfortunately for you, Mark wasn't quite done.
He leaned down over you. Instead of a kiss, his teeth found the skin of your shoulder, sinking in with a sharp nip. He bit hard enough to draw a bead of crimson blood, the metallic tang of it mixing with the salty scent of sweat.
He moved to the other side, nipping at the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of stinging, red marks that would serve as a silent warning to anyone who dared look too closely.
He wanted the bruises to stay, he wanted the marks to remind you exactly who you belonged to.
“E—eep..” You squeaked softly.
"Yeah... keep making those sounds," Mark muttered, his voice still rough and low.
He reached out a large, dirt stained hand, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw, smearing a bit of the mud across the your cheek.
The tiny, involuntary shudder that wracked you was followed by a familiar, warm sensation. In your state of sheer, lingering terror and sensory exhaustion, your little bunny bladder betrayed you once more, a thin, frantic stream of urine soaking into your skin.
Instead of being repulsed, Sinister felt a fresh surge of arousal. The scent of your fear and the sharp, acrid smell of piss mixing with the heavy musk of their sex was like a drug.
"Again?" A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Well, an extra round won't hurt me."
“Wait— …w-what?”
He didn't give you a moment to breathe. He simply lunged forward, the weight of his entire body was a suffocating pressure that forced the air from your lungs in a pathetic, wheezing "Uuuf.."
There was no room for you to move, no room to even breathe, let alone escape.
Mark reached down and gripped your soft bunny ears. He didn't hold them gently—he wound the velvet appendages around his fingers and tugged, forcing your head back at a punishing angle.
You squeaked.
He needed those eyes focused. He needed you to see the predator that was currently dismantling him.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice a low growl. He grabbed your chin, forcing those glazed, rolled back eyes to snap into focus on his own. "Don't you dare look away."
Without a second of hesitation, Mark moved. He didn't go for the heat of your lower half this time. Instead, he drove his thick, pulsing cock straight into your mouth.
The sudden movement forced a muffled, choked scream from your throat, eyes widening in sheer shock as your jaw was stretched to the breaking point.
He didn't care about comfort.
He began to fuck your face, his hips slamming against your chin and lips. The sound was a wet, messy cacophony of gagging, heavy breathing, and squelching.
Every time he thrust deep, he felt your small hands clawing uselessly at his muscular thighs, trying to find leverage.
"Take every fucking inch of me," Mark hissed, his eyes watching you struggle to accommodate him. "Show me how well you can take it.."
Your eyes were brimming with fresh tears, your face flushed and tear streaked as you fought to breathe around the invading length.
You were practically drowning.
The taste of mud, musk, and the sharp tang of your own urine made your head spin in a dizzying haze of sensory overload.
"That's it... swallow it all..." Mark groaned. He was relentless, his large hands tightening their grip on your ears, using them to steer your head back and forth, ensuring he was hitting the very back of your throat.
He wanted to feel the exact moment your body buckled.
He wanted to feel the heat of your throat constricting around him even more, wanted to feel your very soul surrender to his cock.
And you could barely make a sound—only muffled whimpers and the panic-stricken sounds of your own choking.
"Good boy... just like that.”
Your vision began to swim, the dark trees above blurring into a chaotic whirl of shadows. Perhaps death, somehow, was consuming you.
But Mark was reaching his limit, white hot sparks going through his nervous system. The familiar, violent tension. The urge to claim one last time before the exhaustion finally claimed him too.
"I'm... coming..."
He didn't pull out. Instead, he gripped the bunny's ears even tighter, ensuring he was as deep as physically possible.
With a final, bone deep lunge into your jaw, his hips locked against your face with a heavy thud.
He let out a long, ragged moan, his body tensing into a rigid arc—knot pulsing violently, and the sheer volume of the release was staggering.
You could feel the viscous liquid filling your mouth, sliding down your throat in an overwhelming rush.
You could only make desperate gagging and asphyxiating sounds. Your trembling, wet eyes rolled back once more as you struggled to swallow the amount of the hot deluge.
"All of it..."
Mark’s eyes burned with a dark, triumphant light. He didn't loosen his grip on the ears, holding you in that vulnerable, stretched position to ensure not a single drop was wasted.
—
He eventually pulled away with a slow, wet suction sound, his cock sliding out and leaving a glistening trail of white seed hanging from the your lips.
You let out a ragged wheeze.
Mark sat back on his haunches, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath.
He looked down at the wreckage he had made.
You lay completely sprawled in the stinking mire, small, filth smeared body still twitching with involuntary, post orgasmic tremors.
Your face was a mask of pure, beautiful devastation—eyes wide and vacant, staring up at the canopy in a blank, trance like state, mouth slightly agape and still leaking a bit of the creamy seed you had been forced to swallow.
"Fuuuck. You're actually really good," Mark muttered, a predatory, lopsided smirk tugging at his lips.
He reached down, his thumb tracing the edge of your swollen, reddened lip, smearing a bit of the leftover cum across your cheek. "Got me thinking if I should just keep you for myself. Hide you away where no one else can find you."
The thought wasn't a joke. There was a terrifying sincerity in his eyes, a possessive hunger that hadn't quite been sated by the physical act.
He wanted to wrap his arms around this small, ruined thing and never let the world see you again.
You didn't even blink.
You just lay there, a broken, beautiful mess of a bunny, your mind clearly lost somewhere in the hazy, overwhelming void.
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"Tim," The sharp bark of his name takes him by surprise, so much so that he nearly falls off his bike. Tim manages to catch his footing, though he knows Bruce saw him stumble while trying to mount his bike.
It was a bit embarrassing, since Tim hadn't allowed himself to be clumsy around his Red Bird since his Robin days. If only no one else had seen it. But alas, it wasn't just Bruce who witnessed his slight fumble.
By that, he meant everyone in the cave was staring at him, with various expressions on their faces that were hard to decipher without any form of mind-reading. Which was odd, to say the least.
Why were they all so focused on him, not the usual post-patrol routine?
"Um, yeah?" He turns his attention to Bruce, adjusting the balance of his bike under him. He tries not to let his impatience leak into his voice, but today's patrol was annoyingly long, even though they hadn't been much crime to take care of.
Sure, the Bats had stopped a mugging or two, and yeah, Tim did find some new evidence for a cold case he's been trying to crack for the last five months, but that was a short burst of activity over many hours. It was agonizing to fly around the city, waiting for the time to pass when nothing significant happened.
It felt like such a waste.
Or maybe he was just impatient for the weekend to officially start, and the clock's ticking seemed to slow down when he wanted it to go faster.
After all, this weekend wasn't his average one. He had plans for once that he couldn't wait for. Tim was going on a small vacation for the first time since becoming Robin, which meant no Wayne Enterprise, no Red Robin, and no Young Justice.
Nothing.
Just Tim Drake enjoying his time off camping with his dear coffee-making roommate.
Danny had been talking about the Dark Sky reservation in a nearby national park for some time, and this Saturday was the famous meteor shower, Pariah's Defeat, that Danny wanted to see.
It came only once every fifty years and was said to have dozens of spectacular glowing streaks across the sky, ending with a large comet. His roommate had been talking about watching the live stream for weeks, with the same excitement Tim felt when new items were added to Heart Attack.
Tim wasn't sure what drove him to rent the RV or tell Tam he would be out of the office for a whole week (much to her surprise). He actually didn't really think about it. It wasn't until after he got the email confirmations for the RV rental center or the national park main office that he even realized what that meant.
Still, when he told Danny he rented out a space in the National Park, right in the best spot for the metro shower (pulling his strings and flashing his privlage to make it happened) it had felt like the most fantastic idea he's ever had with the way Danny leaped into his arms jumping up and down with joy.
"Tim," Bruce repeats a little sharper, snapping Tim out of his thoughts about his friend. "Did you hear anything I just said?"
Tim stares, realizing that his family has suddenly surrounded him, no longer just watching from a distance but now only a few feet away. Each of them looks distressed, holding envelopes. What's going on?
"Huh? No, sorry I-"
"A side effect." Jason spits, which is a bit insulting. First, he interrupts him, and then he talks to him that way?
"A side effect of what?"
"I don't know, Tim. Maybe you can tell us what you've been shooting up." Jason all but sneers. He throws a hand to a nearby table, which Tim had noticed earlier. Back then, it was covered in a cloth. Now, it's displayed test tubes and an oddly glowing green liquid.
At first glance, Tim wants to say it's Lazarus water, but he can see how easily it's moving in various separatory funnels connected in glass loops. There is an entire chemistry lab set up there with various Beakers, Erlenmeyer flasks, test tubes, graduated cylinders, volumetric flasks, and burets. Each was holding a bit of that green liquid, but what really caught Tim's attention was the frost forming around each container.
"What is that?" he asks while unmounting his bike. He moves with the intent of expecting the odd liquid, but Dick steps into his path. He blinks up at his stern-looking brother, who crosses his arms and straightens his back upwards.
It's a familiar pose—the kind Dick makes when he's about to start a lecture—but this time, his eyes are large and sad. Like a child who was just told the truth about Santa Claus. Before Tim's team killed him.
Oh, crude was this about Tim killing Santa?
"Tim, you know we love you, right?" Dick starts off, his eyes somehow growing wider. He's a little worried they would pop out of his skull.
"Um, yeah?" Tim replies slowly, glancing around the others only to find them staring just as intensely as Dick. "Did something happen? Why are you all-"
"Tim." Bruce cuts in again, stepping closer and thrusting out the envelope. "We tested it. We know it's a potent substance that causes endorphins, dopamine, and oxytocin to increase alarmingly. It's highly addictive. "
Oh, that made far more sense.
"A new drug, huh?" He sighs, rubbing at his neck. "I can help if it's in danger of spilling into the streets, but I can't move my schedule around this weekend. I'm taking some personal time off."
Bruce's face hardens. "We know Tim."
That draws him up short. The phrase itself is innocent, but the tone implied that Bruce wasn't just talking about his vacation. In fact, it was pointed enough that it felt like he was accusing Tim of something.
"I should hope so? You did sign off on the PTO request-"
"This isn't a game!" Steph snaps like she couldn't hold it in anymore. "We know about Daniel Fenton."
That draws him up short. This is it. The moment Tim had been planning for. His family has finally caught on to the fake boyfriend he had as a facade to cover his coffee addiction. He glances at their faces, taking in their emotions, and then at the table again, remembering Jason's theory.
It seemed the family had chosen to continue thinking Danny was some drug dealer who got Tim hooked on something nasty, but that could only be because they found a connection to the green stuff on the table with Danny. This was an unforeseen obstacle because Tim had no idea what that liquid was.
He knows Danny would never be involved with drugs, not consuming or selling them, but that's because he knows Danny. The many hours they spent together would have given Tim the perfect window to at least suspect something.
Tim knew his friend was innocent. He just had to prove it to them, but based on what he saw, they wouldn't believe him, not without solid evidence.
He had to buy some time, and he knew just how to do it. After all, he had been planning for this very moment. Thank heavens Tim was such a good liar. He could even fool Cass if he had enough prep time.
And he had the prep time.
Allowing his eyes to widen, he wills a blush onto his cheeks, scrambling to shift his body language into that of a closeted gay man about to be outed. He quickly shuts it down, acting as if he wasn't aware he gave a tell to his observing siblings, and shifts a foot. "I don't know what you mean. Who's Daniel Fenotn?"
"Don't pretend," Steph scoffs, stepping closer. The letter in her hand crinkles loudly as she balls her fists. There is anger in her eyes, but it's not as much as there is worry. "Friends don't let friends do this."
Tim bites his lip, swinging his eyes around the room madly, as if searching for an exit. "I seriously don't understand. I've never met the man-"
"Tim," Barbara cuts in with her gentle but stern voice—the kind she uses when she has to deliver bad news. A few taps to her table have the nearby monitors displaying receipts for his new home: the purchase, the movers, the cleaners, and the interior designers—all of it time and date stamped. "I found proof that he's living with you."
On cue, his face goes pasty white, and Tim would have taken some time to gloat about his acting skills were it not in the middle of the performance. "That's- no wait - I can explain. He's just a friend!"
"We know he isn't just a friend, Drake. We know what he really is. This is a terrible disadvantage in the field." Damian starts, and yes, it's perfect, just what Tim needed. Someone implied it was wrong what he and Danny were.
Tim feels tears building in his eyes, but he locks his jaw and blinks quickly- a habit he knows he does when trying not to cry. "No, it's not!"
"Master Tim, please-"
"Danny is the best thing that ever happened to me," He hisses, blinking faster as Cass steps closer, seeing the truth in his words, voice, and body. "I love him! I don't care if you disapprove of him because he's a boy and I-"
"Drugs." Cass interrupts quickly, pushing past a shocked Duke and a slack-jawed Steph. "We thought he was giving you drugs."
"What?" Tim comes to a complete standstill. Gleefully, he realizes that Cass can't tell. She is falling for his acting hook, line, and sinker. At times like these, he is grateful that Kon helped train him to control his body for lying and that Cassie convinced Diana to let them borrow the Lasso of Truth to train against.
He's half convinced Diana only lets them for a laugh or two.
None of them have been able to go against the Lassco, but Tim got way better at lying without it.
"I-no? Danny and I don't do drugs." He splutters, glancing around the family as if they held the answer to his confusion. "Did you think we were doing drugs?"
"Then what's this!?" Jason demands while holding up the strange green liquid. Tim doesn't know and can't even begin to guess, but he has to say something, or Danny could be in more trouble with his family before he can make a solid plan.
He blurts the first thing that comes to his mind.
"I thought that was the new drug you guys were-wait, you think Danny and I were taking that?! I've never seen it before tonight!" Tim gasped, offended, taking steps back.
"It was inside Daniel's bathroom. Hidden in the wall." Bruce challenges. "Why was your boyfriend hiding it?"
Crude. It was in his house?
"I - don't know- I" Tim blinks his eyes again, locking his jaw tightly as if refusing to break down in front of them. Then suddenly he explodes. "It's not.....meant for humans, okay!?
Bruce blinks slowly. "What?"
Crude, crude, crude. What is his mouth even saying? This is why Tim needs time to make solid, foolproof plans.
"Danny isn't a human. If you found that in Danny's walls, then it's his...you know...." He forces himself to blush as hard as possible, as if he were once again a thirteen-year-old boy and Bruce had just found the dirty magazines Bernard had let him under his bed. "The liquid his people make when.....they want children....."
Jaso drops the test tube with a gag but then panics and scrambles to catch it before it shatters. "It's what?!"
"It's not like semen!" Tim blurts, "It's like a liquid pheromone, okay!? Danny said that if he collects it and rubs it into his skin or has it around for him to breathe in, his chances of having a healthy baby are higher and-"
"That's why the DNA tests burned up." Dick gasps looking like the sun came back after months of darkness. "It wasn't human DNA! Daniel isn't human! He's not a drug dealer!"
"Drake." Damian drops the envelope, looking up at him with large doe-green eyes. It's the same look he gives newly born kittens, and suddenly, Tim knows he's done wrong. "Is Fenton carrying your child?"
Mentally, Tim reviews what he blurted out a few minutes ago and realizes with a cold horror that he just implied that, didn't he? Before he can answer, the cave erupts into madness.
In the chaos, he misses Danny's panicked text apologizing for keeping a secret from him. The other man had been pacing back and forth at their home, unable to sleep because of his excitement, when he noticed that the wall hiding his secret was slightly ajar.
Once he realized a full jar was missing, he knew Tim had found the stash and had likely figured out what he was hiding. Danny had started to frantically pack and had run away into the darkness of the night, choking on his tears and feeling his chest rip itself apart as he did so.
All he left behind was one steaming cup of Heart Attack Coffee, aware that their dream of make-believe had finally ended. It was time to wake up and live in a world without Tim again.
Like a coward, he couldn't face it, couldn't bear to hear Tim say the words, so he ran.
It was terrible to realize he was in love with the man.
