Cyberrat
patreon
Patreon Compilation – Fic#315 – OC/OCs – Milky Verse; slice of life – How The Cookie Crumbles
🕑 Added 2024-12-11 07:05:47 +0000 UTCOC/OCs – Milky Verse – Danny has struggled pretty much through all his life with the intense fuck hunger that grips him every now and then. He is a carbon copy of his famous cow father, Gabriel Reyes.
“I always knew Danny would end up here. More than my other kids.”
---
Jack’s mouth thins into a tight line of worry as he rounds the corner and sees Danny standing on the sidewalk, his body twitching in odd, convulsive ways every now and then. One of his friends is with him at least; a girl that Jack couldn’t remember the name of but definitely could remember the odd styles she liked to wrap her hair in.
She has her hand on Danny’s back and is leaning forward with him when it looks like Danny is going to lose his lunch. It looks like she is talking to him in a low, intense way. Jack pushes down on the accelerator. The engine hums louder for a second and adults look up to see what the ruckus is about.
Danny’s face goes bright with elation for a second, then shutters down again; like it took him a second to remember why his father was there in the middle of the night, picking him up from a sidewalk instead of him still being at the party and having fun with his friends.
Jack thanks the girl whose name he can’t remember and Danny clambers into the car. The two exchange brief promises of texting with each other and then she turns to walk back to the house they’ve come from while Jack pulls off the side of the street.
It’s very quiet for a while. From the corners of his eyes, Jack can see how Danny keeps the heels of his hands pressed against his crotch, his head angled to press his forehead against the cool window.
“Your room’s all ready,” he offers in a gruff voice, aiming for comforting but probably falling miles from it. “Your dad got you your favorite slick.”
Danny makes a soft, dismissive noise and leans forward to turn on the radio. He doesn’t blast it but he makes it loud enough that his quiet: “I don’t wanna talk about it” is barely audible.
.o.
Gabriel watches as the sweat visibly soaks Danny’s bodice. The calf is still smiling brightly at the rest of his team but even just sitting on the bench, waiting for the moment he could show his routine, has him visibly on edge.
Gabriel can only imagine the tremendous effort it takes to pretend like he is normal when his insides are clawing at each other and heating up and making him feel like he needs to get fucked now or suffocate on air.
Danny has become remarkably good at pretending his body isn’t doing what it does. He’s managed somehow to regulate it enough that it would only happen outside of his tournaments, but this time something must have went awry.
Maybe it’s the size of the thing; all those bodies hot and vibrant and lively kicking his own body’s needs into an overdrive.
A fat bead of sweat rolls down from his temple and Danny wipes at it, his unfalteringly happy facade flickering for a moment to show the annoyance underneath. His gaze flicks to the side and lands on his dad.
His face goes blank for a second. Gabriel tries at an encouraging grin and gives him a thumbs up. He’s hidden himself mostly away so he wouldn’t be found and recognized by any of the families present. He does not want them swarming him and asking for autographs when really he just wants to watch his kid – his very much adult kid, he should stop thinking of him that way – do his gymnastics.
Danny’s face stays blank for a second longer and when he finally starts smiling again, it looks like he just really had to buffer for a while.
Seems like the fuck hunger only becomes worse instead of better. Gabriel can’t help but feel a bit guilty.
.o.
“Dude… Danny. Have you still not decided? Like… really? Like, really really??”
Mica tilted their head to the side, watching Danny with large, green eyes. Sounding and looking so completely normal; as if they were not being grunt fucked by a stud. As if that stud wasn’t trying their hardest to get the freshly made cow to lose focus on their card game and pay more attention to him.
Danny’s eyes keep sliding shut. He takes ages for his turn, but Mica does not reprimand him for it. They seem happy enough to needle him about his questionable life choices. Or watching him get slowly stretched out on another stud’s fist.
Not being a cow meant he couldn’t get fucked for real by the studs, but the ones that had down times from breeding up cows were usually absolutely more than happy to take care of him in any other way.
Both because he’s the son of the Gabriel but also, they assure him enthusiastically, because he’s cute.
He doesn’t have it in him to doubt them in that. Especially not when he feels the stud carefully work more of his arm into his guts, his fist twisting at the wrist to gently knuckle the soft, warm lining of his intestines.
Danny’s mouth falls open, drool threatening to drip down his chin. He loses coordination of his hands and the cards flutter down onto the milk crate he and Mica have been using as a makeshift table.
He hears Mica tittering in a teasing, lilting way but they do not reprimand him. Instead, they put their cards down as well and instead grip the sides of the crate, lifting their hips up and encouraging their own stud to fuck harder. Faster. Like he means it.
“You’d b-b-be so good,” they whine through clenched teeth.
Danny tries to focus on them, but his vision keeps getting a little fuzzy and dark around the very edges, and his knees feel like they are about to give in on him. The stud behind him seems to notice, curling their free arm around his hips to help him stand.
The new position means that they can’t really move their other arm anymore, but being fisted and fucked on a forearm means that he really does not need much more than that to satisfy that burning urge crawling through his system.
The stud is chuckling all fond and comforting and Danny can feel the warmth that had been blooming in his stomach, creeping up into his chest and into his head, making him feel downright drunk on affection.
Mica’s eyes are two luminous spots in front of him. They seem to be watching his every move; every little twitch of muscle.
“I want to be a cow here with you,” they whine, their tail twitching, then curling around their stud’s hip. Their head finally tilts forward as the stud shifts his angle a little and manages to hit a particularly nice spot.
Danny can feel a little keening whine stuck in is throat. He tries to keep it down. He’s just a calf but he’s almost louder than the cows getting serviced in their stables. It’s embarrassing… only that nobody seems to mind. In fact, there’s just cooing all around. Encouragement. Low words of praise.
Danny stares at the horns they grew on Mica; they are short and stubby and very cute with blunted metal tips that Mica had wanted in a warm chocolate brown and stuck a few glittering little star stickers on.
Mica loves being a cow. They’ve loved it so much that Danny had felt weirdly drawn to them when visiting his dad. They had immediately asked him out to play some games and well… the rest is history.
Honestly, it gets harder and harder to figure out why he shouldn’t just let himself become a cow. He’s started an apprenticeship but only so he would be doing something with his life. He’s tried for so long to push against the fuck hunger and be normally functining like all his other friends that his little visits to the farm and to Mica just feel like an escape.
He wonders why the suggestion of becoming a cow doesn’t fill him with the same wave of denial when it comes from Mica as when it comes from either of his fathers. He’s thought himself grown out of the rebellious teenage phase but maybe he really just needed someone his own age rooting for him in that regard.
Or maybe he just needed a nice, deep fisting. Because it’s like a knot has finally unraveled itself as he lets himself keen and jerk his hips back into the fisting because yeah. Yeah, he’s gonna become a cow. He’s gonna become such a good cow.
When he looks up again he sees Mica looking at him with a mischievous grin, giving him a shaky thumbs up.
We’re going to have so much fun, the gesture seems to say; and Danny can see that.
