Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The morning you wake up to is a kind one. The birds aren’t so much chirping as they are flitting (a much kinder sound in your opinion), and your dog sleeps cozily in her cage.

“Buzzer,” you say, short and laced with enthusiasm. She perks up at your tone, her docked tail starting to wag. “Gotta go out?” you ask, still playing up your excitement. It was fun to watch her run around and bark. That’s the good thing about dogs, they don’t need a reason to be happy.

You aren’t a dog, though. You’re only human. So, you take your kind mornings and your happy dog, and you walk to the kitchen.

“Hey kid,” a gruff voice startles you on your way, “new one comin’ in, wanna handle that while I fix up the roof? Heard a blower’s comin’ through tonight,”

“Sure,” you hold in a yawn, not wanting to give your boss a face-full of morning breath.

Well, “boss” is a loose term. Geordy had been a family friend, and after your family...he became your friend as well, taking you on as extra help at his farm. You hadn’t looked back since.

Breakfast was short and sweet, you didn’t like to eat too much so early on in the day anyways, gave you a stomachache.

Morning chores were always rough, but this morning had been kind to you, so you breezed through them, barely stopping to greet the hens when you check their pen.

“mornin’ ladies,” you said, fixing them with your smoothest drawl. The hens seemed to like it, or at least liked the grain you scattered when you left.

Next was stall checks and cleaning, then you should probably get started on prepping a new one . A new one , that was an exciting thought. It'd been a while since any new boys had come by, and you were eager to meet the newest member of the herd.

“Ahem,” someone cleared their throat behind you, startling you into dropping the bucket you’d brought just in case.

You knew who it was before you even turned around.

“Fuck, Ethan, you gotta stop doing that,”

Ethan fixed you with his biggest puppy dog eyes, which would be adorable if you didn’t know him personally. His ears twitched when you moved to walk away, his voice hitching in distress.

“Wait-! I...I...” his hooves scraped against the hay in his stall. He whined, a truly pathetic sound, and started fiddling with his stubby horns.

You sighed. Fuck.

“Can you wait until Amy shows? You know how much I hate this,” you were slowly inching closer to the exit, watching the shine in Ethan’s eyes grow more and more desperate.

“No! No, I need -”

And you were gone, bucket clanging to the ground as you ran off.

Catching your breath by the hay bales was an easy thing, and in no time, you were pulling out your phone. It was a chunky thing, old too, no touch screen, but it served you well; especially in your line of work. You'd gotten a new number along with it when you moved out here, but that was less for the farm, and more for Geordy’s peace of mind.

“Hey, Amy?” you said when the call picked up, “you comin’ in soon? It's Ethan, he’s-”

Amy snorted on the other line, “yeah kid, don’t worry about it,”

“God, thank you, you’re a life saver, truly,”

“it’s what I'm paid for,” she said, fondness evident in her voice. She was your age, but she had an air of mischief and something mellow that aged her, made her seem wiser, even though you knew better.

She was also the one in charge of milking all the cows, a task you r efused to do.

You knew, logically, that it was no different than milking a normal cow, the same steps, the same grip, the same product, albeit sweeter. But you couldn’t shake the discomfort every time you had to watch it happen. Cow hybrids looked human, they talked human too. Sure, there's the ears and the soft nose, the tail and the spots (not to mention the udders they all seemed to have, regardless of gender), but there was humanity in their dark, black eyes. And seeing those eyes, those windows to the soul, screwed shut as they gasped and moaned while being milked ...“discomfort” is putting it lightly.

You shook off the memories with a shudder, shoving your phone into your thigh holster, and heading back to the house. The new boy should be arriving soon, and the driver always liked talking to Geordy.

Your mind wandered as you took in the familiar spot, the rugged, vaguely pungent odor was familiar to you now. The thought made you smile. It was nice to belong, to contribute, to be loved.

But you can think about that later, it was almost time to unload the new member of the herd.

You strolled up the rocky gravel driveway, mind wandering despite your efforts. You hoped it was a calf. They were more work, sure, but so damn cute. You remembered when Ethan was a calf, back when all that baby fat and softboy charm was genuine. You scoffed to yourself, “ soft ”, what an idea.

“Kid, that you?” Geordy asked, calling from inside when he heard the screen door bang shut.

“Yeah, shipment here yet?”

“Sure is, Marshall here’ll help you unload him, he’s a big one,” Geordy clapped your shoulder, leaving you with a task and someone to help you.

“Marshall, is it?” you raised an eyebrow at the kid next to you. They were younger than you, but beefy as anything.

“Uh, yes, mx...?”

“y/n,” you said, shaking their hand. “Now, about the shipment-”

“Right out here, like uh—like the Mr. said, he’s a big one.”

“a bull?” you asked. You didn’t have many bulls, only standard milk cows. Geordy had tried to get into cow breeding a while back, but it didn’t stick. He didn’t have the countenance for it, you supposed.

“No, mx. y/n, just...you’ll see,” Marshall seemed flushed, and it only took the trailer door sliding open for you to understand why.

He really was large. Not only that, but he was handsome. Lots of folks thought cow hybrids were cute, you’d even call a few of them that yourself, but handsome ?

That wasn’t the only word to describe him, though. He was beautiful too, the work of years of selective breeding, no doubt. You wondered for a moment how Geordy could afford him. You weren’t the cow showing type, and Geordy always loathed the idea.

It was then that you discovered another word to describe the man in front of you: skittish.

As soon as light flooded the trailer, he was backing into the corner, trying to avoid being pulled from his cool, metallic enclosure.

Marshall sighed.

“c’mon, Mark, not this again,”

Mark? Huh, it suited him, you guessed.

Mark didn’t budge, but his nose scrunched defiantly.

Maybe you’d misjudged him. Mark wasn’t skittish, he was stubborn.

The price makes sense now.

“Mark come on, we don’t have all day,” Marshall wasn’t having any luck, so you decided to try your hand at it.

“Mark, it is?” you said, keeping your voice even and soft, but not condescending. That was a point you’d learned early on in the trade. “I've got your stall all set up for ya, it’s nice and roomy, and the rest of the herd is all excited to meet you,”

He huffed, but nodded. Not a very vocal thing, but that didn’t matter much right now. You clipped a lead onto his harness, not bothering to actually walk him, letting it trail between you instead.

Regulation demanded hybrids be leashed when outside their field, but it never said anything about someone holding the leash.

Conversation was little, and the awkward silence building between you and Marshall worsened the further you got from the truck. Enough was enough.

“Marshall,” you said, laying on all the charm you’d practiced on the chickens that morning, “why don’t you go back to the house, try’n round up your boss and keep Geordy from busting out the drinks?”

Marshall nodded, looking as if they were begging for an out, only to pause.

“Are y’sure? He can be a handful...” they said, glancing at mark, and briefly at mark’s ass.

“i got it, don’t you worry,” your assurance was enough, and Marshall bolted.

You snorted, clicking your tongue to get mark’s attention before heading for the barn.

The tour of the barn was brief enough, Ethan took a liking to him immediately, the two riffing off each other for a while before you hauled mark off. He seemed looser after, which was nice; but getting along with Ethan...some sins can never be forgiven.

His stall was satisfactory as well, and he grabbed a couple carrots to munch on while you showed him around. When you left the main barn, the sky was starting to cloud over. When you arrived at the second barn, the wind had picked up, and you could barely hear Mark’s nervous lowing.

The two of you muscled the door open, panting when you were safely inside.

“helluva blower,” you said, looking out the peepholes serving as windows.

“So, I've been told,” Mark said with a smirk, leaving your brain to play catch up.

You blinked.

“Did you just make a sex joke?”

“Not much else to do,” he sat, munching on a carrot, licking the salt off, and then spitting the vegetable bits out.

You shrugged. You've seen weirder.

You sat next to him, only for him to tense.

“You good?” you asked, resting a hand on his shoulder. He shuddered at the contact, and you whipped your hand away. “When was the last time you were-?”

“This morning, but with all the walking, and then...you...”

“Me?”

He looked away, curling a finger in his fluffy hair.

“I'll be fine,” he said after a moment, and you nodded because the alternative ...

That wasn’t an option.

Your phone rang a few minutes later, saving the two of you from awkward silence.

“Yeah Geordy?”

“Kid, you got the newbie?”

“Yeah, Mark’s with me, we’re in the second barn,”

“Good, good,” he paused as if he was listening to something, and you heard the voice of the driver in the background, “alright, you two are gonna have to stay out there for a bit, as soon as the wind lets up I'll come getcha, but right now--”

“we’re fine. Geordy, sounds good to me,”

“Are you sure?” he sounded hesitant, like he was worried about something other than the storm. He couldn’t know about...could he?

You took a breath.

“Yeah, I'll talk to you later,” you ended the call, looking over at mark. He was hunched slightly and his eyes were closed, but he wasn’t doing too badly.

You reached for him, only to decide against it, standing up instead.

“gonna find some blankets,” you said, making for the pile of sheets and winter blankets in the corner.

After picking out the softest and warmest, you made a kind of nest. Blankets laid over boot-packed dirt and covered in more blankets. Mark ambled over to it on his own, laying down almost immediately.

He looked miserable.

You didn’t know much about the actual milking part, but you knew a full udder didn’t feel good. He was taking it better than Ethan, but you wondered how long he’d be able to wait, and if he couldn’t wait, would you...

You swallowed, looking over at his prone form. Shaking your head, you laid down a few feet away, sleep coming easy after the long day.

You didn’t know how long you’d been asleep for, but you knew you’d rather go back to it than deal with this.

Mark was panting and lowing, trying to be quiet, but it was hard, and so was...

He was gripping the base of one of his udders, wincing every time his hand twitched.

You watched him from your side of the blanket nest. He hadn’t noticed you were up yet, too caught in his haze, but he would soon, and then...

And then you’d have to milk him.

The air felt suddenly thick and thin at the same time, your hands spasming around the blankets you were gripping. Mark had taken off his poncho, leaving his full udder on display. It was a dusty rose, veering into brown, and it was leaking.

Little beads of milk gathered at the tip of his udders before slipping down, dripping onto mark’s painful grip. He let out a little sound every time it happened, something pained, but relieved, and in that moment, you made up your mind.

Sitting up, you reached for a spare blanket before slowly crawling towards mark. He watched you carefully and full of desperation. He was panting now, his breathing picking up at the thought of relief.

You spread his legs, settling between them, before standing up.

“wh-where are you--” he gasped, but you waved your hand.

“i don’t...” you flushed, grabbing the blanket, “the chickens...”

They were fast asleep in their hutch, but the thought of one waking up and seeing you...

You made quick work of covering the hutch, turning around only to choke on nothing.

Mark had finally loosened his grip, trailing a hesitant knuckle up and down one of his udders. The mere action of it wracked his body, his back arching into the feeling. You swallowed. This was gonna be a long night.

“Does that...?” you trailed off, unsure if you even wanted an answer.

“Feels good,” he spread his legs to accommodate you, “doesn’t do anything, though,”

You knew that much. Cows can’t milk themselves.

“So do I just--”

“God just—just do something, anything, pl- ngh !”

You moved your hand lower, keeping your grip loose but consistent, swiping milk droplets away as they appeared. Mark seemed frozen beneath you, mouth agape and body bowed back. It took another three strokes before the flow picked up, and his body began to move again.

And move it did.

He was writhing, almost;  gripping the blankets, his hair, the udders you weren’t touching, and then, hesitantly, your sleeve.

You let him pull you closer, comfortable enough in your own skin to admit you were kinda enjoying this, and were maybe ready to see more.

The first kiss was hesitant, hardly there. And then he was pulling you down and flipping you over, knees on either side of your hips as he thrust his own with the movements of your hands. It was overwhelming, but easier this way. You looked up at him, and for the first time, you were able to see past the milk flowing down your arms, to see Mark for what he truly was.

And he was beautiful.

Chapter Text

“Ff—please, god , pl- ” mark’s words were cut off by the barn door slamming open, the grating slide of wood sending a shock through your body. It was enough strength to push Mark off you, sitting up suddenly.

The broken sound he made cut through your heart, but fuck, if anyone saw —

“Enjoying yourselves?” the voice from the door was heavy and teasing, bringing the brunt of your shame to a head.

“Fuck off, Tyler,” you sneered. There’s no way he could’ve seen anything, and the wind was too loud to hear the… sounds …the two of you had been making.

And God, were you making sounds.

“Playing,” he said, dropping his head so he could fit his horns under the doorway, “Geordy asked me to check on you two, make sure you weren’t buried alive or something,”

“Th-”

“so, what were you guys doing for all this time hm?” his hooves clacked on the ground, making him seem much more imposing than he really was.

Tyler was the only bull you guys had, an impulse buy back in Geordy’s breeder-hopeful days. Logic would tell you to sell him off, but Tyler had grown on the lot of you, and he was strong .

His muscles flexed as he pulled the door shut behind the three of you. Your eyes caught on a drop of water dripping down his chest when he turned around, bleeding into his chest hair. Fuck, you really needed to get a grip.

If milking mark got you this worked up you were actually considering Tyler , you absolutely could not do it again.

            Fuck, you’d forgotten about mark.

            You heard rustling behind you, and saw that he’d draped his poncho over his shoulders again, covering his half-full and probably quivering udders. That was for the best, if Tyler saw…

            He couldn’t see. That wasn’t an option.

            “We were uh,” you searched for a response, but Mark swooped in, cutting you off.

            “Sleeping, you woke us up,” his voice was strained, but he seemed to be playing it off as weariness.

            “Sorry,” Tyler smiled, clopping over to the nest. His four legs were more to manage than mark’s two, so it took a bit of finagling to get himself settled on the blankets. He eyed Mark up and down, cocking an eyebrow when his gaze landed on the very un-subtle tent in his poncho.

            Mark huffed, turning away.

            “…Ty,” you said, drawing his attention, “uh, how long ‘til we can head back? Kind of a shitty first night for Mark,”

            “I’m sure,” he said, glancing at the covered chicken coop before giving you a look and fuck, the bastard knew-

            “Ty—”

            “I’m going to sleep now,” Mark said, laying on his side and facing away from the two of you.

            “Good idea,” Tyler said, blocking you with his arm when you tried to move closer to Mark, “ah ah, I’ll keep an eye on him,” he was speaking to you, but his eyes were roaming the short distance between him and Mark, as if judging how far he’d have to shuffle to be near him.

            Something twisted inside you. Damn fucking bulls, didn’t know how to keep in their…well, they didn’t wear pants, but if they did, they’d never keep their dicks inside them.

            “I don’t think so, big guy,” you bit, shocking the both of you with the darkness there.

            He eyed you.

            “I see how it is,” he said, “okay, no problem,” he dropped his arm, letting you pass, “least Geordy won’t have to worry about any calves running around,”

            “Go to sleep, Tyler,” you shook your head, hoping that Mark hadn’t heard him.

            Silence fell around the three of you, broken only by the wind making the eaves creak and the fabric rustling every time you shifted.

            The night passed easier than the day had, and before you knew it, you were waking up to the sound of the barn door slamming open for the second time.

            “Kid? You still in one piece?”

            “Mm,” you yawned and stretched, “far as I’m aware,”

            Mark was still laying at your side, with Tyler having moved to the corner at some point. It shouldn’t have made you as relieved as it did, but something about the way Tyler had looked at him…it doesn’t matter. Last night was…a mistake, and one you weren’t planning on repeating any time soon.

            Geordy had brought some farm hands to help with Mark, and you saw one swinging a bucket when you walked past. You felt your jaw clench. You ignored it.

            “how’d you hold up?” Geordy’s hand fell on your shoulder, and you let yourself breathe.

            “Fine, I had to…y’know,”

            He nodded understandingly.

            “Sorry, I know how much y’hate that sorta thing,”

            “Mm,” you nodded, checking your phone to keep from having to meet his eyes.

            You did hate that kind of thing, you always have. It was weird, and wrong, and felt so…intimate, whenever you saw someone else do it. You’d never have done what you did last night with Ethan, or any of the other boys.

            And what did you do last night? Milked him, yeah, but it was more than that. You’d touched him, let him touch you, you’d kissed him, and it was really, really good. You’d never considered what it might be like to kiss a hybrid, but now you couldn’t stop considering it.

            The sounds he’d made, the way he’d whined and pulled away from every touch, only to sob if you moved away. The way he’d shuddered and damn near screamed when those first drops of milk ran down your fingers, pooling in the divots of your wrist…you couldn’t imagine doing that with anyone else. But maybe, maybe Mark wasn’t like anyone else. Maybe he was…special.

            The next few days passed like normal. You did your morning chores, fixed up whatever Geordy asked you to look at, handled a few calls, sorted a few orders, and didn’t see much of Mark at all.

            You didn’t know if that last bit was good or not.

            You weren’t ignoring him, you just…were never in the same place at the same time.

            Today was a little different, you had to wrangle Ethan into a bath, settling on hosing him down while he whined and pouted the whole time. What an asshole.

            “Ethan—Ethan!” you groaned, turning off the hose so you could grapple with his lead, “stay still, dammit,”

            “Nooooooo,” he whined, “it’s cold,”

            “you’ve got fur, dumbass,”

            “Which gets cold when it’s wet, asshole,” he settled for wrapping his arms around his chest while shivering. You rolled your eyes, what a drama queen.

            After a particularly dramatic shudder, you stopped paying attention to him, going through the motions and trying to get it over with.

            Maybe if you’d been paying attention, you’d have seen him grab the shampoo, squirting as much as he could into his palm before turning his soapy hands towards you.

            All you saw was a flash in the corner of your eye before you felt wet, slippery digits slide over your chest and tank top.

            “You asshole-” you started, turning the hose on him, only for him to knock it out of your hand and push.

            You landed on your ass, getting an up-close view of Ethan laughing his udders off. You growled, swiping your leg under his, sending him toppling down next to you. His little legs kicked in the air for a second, a shriek cutting off his laughter.

            “Hey, that’s-!” he didn’t get the chance to finish before you were shoving him back down, straddling him to try and keep him from kicking.

            “all’s fair in love and bath time,” you teased, grabbing the shampoo and squirting it vaguely onto his front, not bothering to lather before reaching for the hose. Your hand felt around blindly, searching for the familiar plastic, but coming up empty.

            “Looking for this?” the hose dropped to the ground beside you, the hand that was holding it leaving with the rest of its body.

            Fuck.

            “Mark, wait-” but it was too late, he was already walking away, and with Ethan squirming underneath you, you were in no position to chase after him. “You asshole,” you said, turning your ire onto Ethan.

            “What did I do?” he asked, leaning on his elbows and craning his neck to watch Mark walk away. “why’s he mad?”

            You rolled your eyes, turning the hose on to drown out his questions. Thoughts swam around in your head, warring with instinct warring with logic.

            You didn’t know which thoughts had won by the time you were locking Ethan’s stall, but you knew you had to talk to Mark. The problem was how to find him.

            He wasn’t in his stall, obviously, and the fields were empty save for Tyler. You avoided his eyes, but you could sense his knowing gaze at the back of your neck.

            You were starting to worry, too. You’d checked the smaller barn and the main one, the only one left being the second barn; the one you’d holed up in together the last time…the last time you spoke.

            You grit your teeth, pushing the door aside. It slid open, lighting up the empty space. Empty except for…

            “Mark,” you breathed, letting the door slide shut behind you.

            “That was quick, he must’ve been close,” he was facing away from you, poking his fingers through the chicken coop wires.

            “Is this where you’ve been the whole time?” you slowed to a stop, sitting down a few feet away from him. He hummed noncommittally.

            “Why, you looking for me?”

            “Yeah, actually,” you swallowed, “I’ve missed you,”

            His hand stopped.

            “Yeah?” he turned his head slightly, the low lighting casting shadows over his profile.

            You reached out a hand, but he turned back.

            “I can be better,” he said, voice taking on an edge, “let me show you,”

            It wasn’t phrased as a question, so you didn’t treat it like one.

            “Ok,” you dropped your hand, and he made his move.

            Turning to face you, he crawled until his arms were braced on either side of you. You were forced to lean back on your elbows, legs spreading to accommodate his hips. His hands moved to your waist, roving up your chest before resting on your shoulders. Your breath hitched.

            “Mark?” your eyes fell to his mouth. Time moved in frames, his teeth bit his lip, his hands clenched tighter, he shifted and then he was falling, pulling you down on top of him.

            “See,” he said, breathy and desperate, “I can do it to,” he grabbed your hands, and you let them slide from his grasp down to his wrists, which he was resting above his head. “Take me like you took him, please,”

            His eyelashes fluttered, making his pretty black eyes look watery. You didn’t have the gall to tell him you weren’t taking anything from Ethan, especially not like this. How could you? Not when you had him under you, spreading his legs and presenting himself like a prize.

            A prize, one you’d done nothing to earn.

            You’d rectify that.

            “Okay,” you nodded, getting comfortable, moving both of his wrists beneath one hand, “okay doll, okay” your soothing speech worked, he relaxed, his chest heaving in relief.

            “Thank you, thank y-”

            “Shh,” you raised a finger to his lips, “talk later, mm? kiss now,” he barely had time to nod before you slid your thumb to his lower lip, tugging it a bit before replacing your thumb with your teeth.

            He groaned, arching into the kiss, but letting you pick the pace. You could tell how much he was holding himself back for you. Sweet.

            You kissed him deep and long, pulling back to nuzzle into his hair, trailing kisses down his neck, biting down where you felt his pulse jump. His udders pushed against your stomach every time he arched, and it was making you a little crazy. Letting go of his wrists, you pushed down on his chest, lips pulling off his neck with a pop.

            You’d left a mark, vision going hazy around the edges when you saw it start to color.

            “Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, scooting up so you could grind against his udder. It wasn’t full like last time, but there was enough in there to make him sensitive, to make instincts kick in, to make him grind back.

            His head fell back, horns scraping up dirt as his whole body arched forward and up. You took the opportunity to loop your arms around his waist and steer his hips. You set a pace he was forced to keep up with, leaving more pretty marks up his neck in the meantime.

            He wrapped his arms around your neck, and you could hear his teeth chattering in your ear. You slowed your hips, groaning into his neck when he let out a whine.

            “Wanna fuck you,” you said, hardly giving him the chance to respond between kisses. You buried your hands in his hair, rubbing his horns with your thumbs.

            “Please,” he gasped, “please, please,”

            You nodded, moving away to unbutton your slacks and missing his warmth immediately. You watched him while your hands worked. His own hands were twitching next to his head, his hips jumping up every so often while he caught his breathe.

            Fuck, you wanted to ruin him.

            Your pants were kicked into some corner, who cares, and before long you were pushing his legs further apart to get a good view of what you were fucking.

            Well, you were no bull, but you could work with this.

            “Guess you didn’t bring any lube, huh?” you teased, surprised to see his face darken in a blush. “Holy shit,”

            He groaned, covering his face with his hands, his hooves pointing inward beside your head.

            “Under the blanket,” he said, peeking through his hands.

            “You fucking,” you shook your head, smiling as you located the lube, “god, I like you so much,”

            He flushed darker, letting his hands fall back onto the blanket when he heard the cap pop open.

            “Have you done this before?” you asked, slicking up two fingers and circling his rim.

            “Mm, a few times, by myself,”

            You nodded, saving that mental image for later use, and pushing in. The first finger slid in easy, flexing inside the tight muscle.

            “Relax, I’ve got you,” you murmured, sliding lower so you could reach up with your other hand, grasping one of his udders loosely. His response was immediate. You heard his head thump against the dirt, a heavy low rumbling from his chest. God, he was gonna be the death of you.

            You started pressing in with your second finger, easing his panting (or making it worse) by upping your pace with your other hand, pumping up and down, alternating pressure and winding him up. You felt him clench around you, and as you slicked up your hand for a third finger, you got a wicked idea.

            When the third finger pressed against him you dropped your head, holding an udder in your hand and letting a drop of saliva drip from your mouth onto its tip. He whined, hands fisting in the blanket.

            “Please,” he begged, meeting your eyes with his shiny, black ones.

            “Good boy,” you whispered to yourself before dropping lower, wrapping your lips around the tip in a wet kiss. He clenched hard around your fingers, his entire body bowing with the force of his orgasm.

            You shooshed him gently, pumping your fingers, spreading him nice and wide before pulling out.

            “You ready?” you asked, leaning back to give him time to catch his breath.

            He nodded, hips jumping forward in anticipation. You smiled at him, leaning forward to kiss him for the last time before sitting back on your heels. You slicked up your cock, squirting a little extra lube into your palm just in case, and started pushing in. The first few seconds were tense, he was gripping the blanket so hard you were worried it might rip, before melting into something hungrier when your hand met his udder.

            It was like the wind had been knocked out of him, you were bottomed out quicker then you’ve ever been, and it felt like he was trying to pull you in even more.

            “Fuck, mark,” you gritted out. The pressure was enough to make your blood pressure spike, and for a moment you thought you might finish in seconds.

            You didn’t though, you pulled out a few inches, pushed back in, and set a rhythm almost as desperate as you were.

            It was difficult to change angles with his udders in the way, but you managed. He was more flexible than you’d imagined, and you had him singing the moment you pushed his legs into his chest.

            “Found it,” you grinned, trying to aim for his prostate as best you could. You were both panting and grunting from the force of it, and it didn’t take long for Mark’s body to start tensing up again.

            “Ah, ah, please, right th—ah-!” he lowed, back arching off the floor, his rim tightening around you in a delicious way that made your head spin.

            Funnily enough, it was the droplets of milk dripping from his quivering udder that made your string snap, pushing you towards the finish line so quickly you felt dizzy from the force of it.

            “Mark,” you grunted, “can I-?”

            “Please,” he moaned, and that was all the warning he got before you were shaking, pushing yourself as deep as you could go and cumming inside.

            It was like the air had stilled around you, the two of you sucking it up with every gasp and pant. You pulled out, regretting it the second you heard Mark’s whine.

            You ran a shaky hand through your hair, tugging lightly to bring your senses back.

            “Fuck,” he was hoarse and quaking, and he was just as beautiful as the first moment you saw him. Moreso, even, because you’d seen him cum, twice, and you needed to see it again.

            And if you’re lucky, and play your cards right, you will. 

Chapter Text

The next night you fucked again, this time sneaking into his stall after dark and letting him ride you. No one heard, or if they did, no one said anything (Not that Ethan would have said something, the little bastard probably liked listening).

It was...odd, to be planning rendezvous with someone who's stall you cleaned, but Mark kept it interesting.

"There's a little spot in the woods, a nice clearing, good ambience,"

"Mosquito repellent candles?"

"Of course," you smiled, "could be nice for a picnic, hm?"

Mark returned your smile, albeit with added mischief.

" Just a picnic? No other reason?" He teased, leaning up slightly from where his head rested on your lap.

"Picnic first," you met him halfway, brushing your lips together in a barely-there kiss, " other things later,"

He seemed content with that answer, laying back down so you could continue petting his hair. It was getting longer, almost long enough to pull back, and more than long enough to pull in general.

Twisting your fingers near the back of his head, you tugged lightly first, then sharper when Mark failed to give you the reaction you wanted. The second time he groaned, eyes fluttering open and meeting yours.

You kept your gaze neutral, tugging his hair harder, this time scratching lightly after. His eyelids dropped back down, his head turning so your cheek was cupping his face, he pressed a gentle kiss on your palm, peering at you from the corner of his eyes. You felt your heart rate pick up.

The picnic could wait.

It was kind of wild how easy it was. You’d never considered yourself the dating type, assuming you’d live your life to the best of your ability, taking care of the farm, taking care of Geordy after that, maybe adopting a cat or a kid to keep you busy. Now that you had it though, you could feel your plans changing. No longer did you imagine yourself alone and working, but working and in love.

Love, huh? That wasn’t too bad of a thought.

The bucket you were carrying clanked against the metal on your drop-bag, keeping discordant tune with your restless humming. Seed spilled on the ground behind you, catching the attention of a few wild songbirds.

You heard the clomping of hooves on wood, but it seemed to melt with whatever music your mind was composing. A heavy hand on your shoulder startled you from your thoughts. The bucket clattered to the ground, one hand coming up to block your face, the other swinging blindly behind you.

“woah!” Tyler grabbed your wrist, “careful, you could’ve hurt yourself,” the ever-calm nature of his voice came across cocky. He was teasing you, you just had to figure out why.

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned, squatting down to scoop the fallen seed back into the bucket.

“Feeding the girls?” he asked, bending down at the waist, his cow body balancing it out.

“Yeah, Pam called in sick, gotta cover for her,”

“Damn, and on your day off, too,” his hands were on his hips when you stood back up.

“Well, can’t let the ladies starve,” you had to look up to make eye contact, way up. Standing at over seven feet tall (not counting the horns), Tyler was a sight to behold.

To other people.

You were used to it.

“Mark must’ve been disappointed,”

“Yeah, tell me ab-” you stopped. “What are you—?”

“c’mon, you don’t think I’m stupid, do you?” he was smiling, but there was an edge there.

You forced your breath to stay even, locking Tyler in a dead-eyed stare.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure,” he said, taking the bucket from your clenched fists like it was nothing, “I’m sure Geordy’ll see it that way too,” he ambled towards the coop, leaving you to chase behind him.

“Tyler,” you warned, grabbing his harness, and jerking him to a stop, “don’t be a dick, it’s not like that,”

“So, you’re not fucking him, then?” he smiled wider, cocking an eyebrow, and leaning in until you could feel the presence of his horns rising your hackles.

“What do you want, Tyler?” you held your hand steady on his harness, ignoring the heat radiating from his massive body.

“Him,” he said, “he’s part of my herd, you’re the one who’s inserting yourself into a done thing,”

You felt your face rifle through five different emotions at once before finally landing on pure rage.

“he’s not your fucking toy, Tyler,” you hissed. His smile turned into a sneer.

“he’s not yours, either” He bent closer, “ I’m his bull, y/n.”

You seethed, pushing back against his chest when he stepped towards you. He was backing you against the barn wall, your hand flattened over his harness, the other one joining it on his other pectoral and trying to hold him off. He didn’t let up, pressing flush against you, beefy arms blocking you in. You turned your head to the side, breath hitching when he dropped his head down to growl into your ear.

“Let nature run its course, sweetheart. ‘s not like you’d be able to keep him satisfied much longer,”

You felt his breath hot against your temple, your own breath catching inside you and staying there, trapped between your lungs and his beating chest.

And then, he pulled away. The rush of cold air hitting you making you shiver. He cocked a smile.

“Aw, didn’t mean to scare you,” he smirked, “maybe it’s best I did, though,”

Your expression was nothing short of murderous as you watched him retreat. Like hell you were gonna listen to him. He had no right, no fucking right—

Grabbing the bucket of seed, you marched towards the coop. You’d show him. You’d make him fucking pay.

“Is everything ok?”

Mark was sitting behind you, leaning against a tree, braiding a flower crown into your hair.

“Mm,” you hummed, shifting your head where it was resting on his stomach. He bit his lip when your shoulders pushed into his udder, a sight that would usually have you cooing. You didn’t feel like cooing now, though.

He made a small ‘ hmph’ sound, but continued to braid.

A few moments passed like that, Mark working on his crown, you relaxing into his familiar earthy scent.

“What did Ty want?” his hands fell to his sides, picking at the grass around you. He had to have felt the way your body tensed at his words. The grass-picking sped up. “I saw him following you yesterday,” he seemed to hesitate for a moment, “did he hurt you?”

“No,” you sat up but didn’t turn around, “he…do you…” you took a steadying breath.

“y/n,” his voice was firm, drawing your face towards him when his hands could not, “you can tell me,”

You blinked, surprised when your eyelashes came up wet.

“of course,” you lied, “it’s fine, he’s just a dick sometimes, nothing I can’t handle,”

He nodded, beckoning you back into his lap. Neither of you spoke until the sun started setting. His hands never worked their way back into your hair.

You weren’t hungry come dinner, but you sat across from Geordy anyways. The weight of his stare was a winter coat on your conscious, pressing down until you felt like you might pop, suffocating the truth out of you like a sauna.

“Hmn,” he hummed, scooping more mashed potatoes onto his plate.

You gripped your fork.

“Fine!” you slammed your hands down, “fine, yes, yes, I’m fucking Mark,” you grabbed your glass of water but didn’t lift it, “I know, ok, I know it’s unprofessional, and weird , and I know it’s gonna cause problems but—”

You carried on, dumping every insecurity and doubt you had on the table, reiterating Tyler’s talking points, defending every concern you yourself raised; and when you were done, drank your entire glass of water, and slouched into your seat.

Geordy stared.

“Well,” he clapped his thigh before standing up, “seems like you’ve thought it all through,” he picked up your plate along with his own, “you’re a smart one, I trust you” he took a few steps towards the kitchen before pausing, “but about Tyler...”

“I know,” you breathed, “I won’t provoke him, but I’ve gotta handle him if I want Mark, I made a plan—”

“Good kid,” he said, smiling beneath his rough mustache, “but…maybe you should wait a tick,” he turned back towards the kitchen, “see if Mark’s really all he’s after,”

That last line stuck with you, ‘see if Mark’s really all he’s after,’

What else would Tyler be after? The power, maybe , but Ty’s never been a particularly power-hungry bull. In fact, the way he’d acted the other day wasn’t like him at all. Hm. Maybe Geordy was onto something.

“Y/nnnnn,” Ethan whined, leaning his head on the pasture gate. He pouted, large eyes not-so-subtly glancing at the carrot in your hand. You rolled your eyes, sighing fondly.

“Yeah, yeah,” you gave him the snack, folding your arms over the gate and resting your head on them.

“You looth lithe thit,” Ethan chewed.

“Gross, don’t talk with your mouth full.”

He swallowed.

“You look like shit,” he copied your pose so he was looking at you, rolling the carrot stem between his lips.

“Thanks,” you deadpanned.

He wrinkled his nose. “You should get laid,”

You snorted.

“Yea, tried that, kinda the issue here, bud,”

He gagged.

“I know I started it but fuck, I did not want to know that,”

You smirked.

“y’know, I kinda have you to thank for it,”

“Stopppp,” he whined, covering his floppy ears.

“Yeah, if you hadn’t’ve made him so jealous—”

“y/n stop ,”

“Maybe I wouldn’t—mph!” you stuck your tongue out on impulse, laughing when Ethan pulled his hand away with a shriek.

“you’re so-!”

You kept laughing while he sputtered, his bell tinkling with every jerky movement.

You felt something prickle against the back of your neck. You turned, laughter dying on your lips when you made eye contact with Tyler. He was standing near the other pasture gate, laughing at something one of the milk cows was saying. His eyes twinkled when they met yours. You swallowed, steeling your nerve.

“y/n?” Ethan waved a hand in front of your face, “you good?”

“Yeah,” you said, absentmindedly, “I’ve just, I’ve gotta go,”

You walked away without waiting for an answer, raising your eyebrow at Tyler to make sure he was watching.

It didn’t take long for you to hear hoofbeats following after you. You could only imagine what Ethan was thinking, but you’d deal with him later. Now, you had a bigger issue.

A much bigger issue. An issue that had to duck under barn doors.

“You called?” Tyler teased. He seemed to be more relaxed today. You didn’t know how to feel about that.

“I’m not gonna stop seeing Mark.”

“Getting right down to business I see,”

“I’m serious, Ty,”

“’Ty’? I’m Ty again? Last time you seemed keen on ‘Tyler’,”

“ Last time you were being an asshole,”

He huffed a laugh, folding his arms and looking down. He squeezed his chest, briefly pushing his tits up and together. Damn show-off.

“We could share him?” he said at last, meeting your eyes again.

You shook your head.

“No, no that’s not fair to him,”

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t like you, for one—”

“Oooh,” he smirked, “I wouldn’t say that,”

“What do you—Tyler, what the fuck are you saying,”

His smile grew.

“I don’t think he cares who’s touching him, as long as his little tits are getting attention,” he took a step towards you, “you give yourself too much credit,”

You were seeing red.

“Tyler, I swear to fucking Christ if you—”

“Relax,” he said, leaning back, “I haven’t fucked him yet,”

“ Yet— ”

“Yet…” he dropped his hands to his hips, “but I’m not gonna wait much longer. I have a job to do, same as you. I’ve given you space to figure shit out, but I don’t have forever.”

“Tyler,” you stopped yourself. Taking a breath, you met his eyes. They were soft, imploring, far from the domineering devil he’d been last time you spoke. “Ty,” you tried again, “what do you mean by ‘share him’?”

A grin spread over his face, making his black eyes twinkle.

“Why don’t I show you?”

“You—” your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you watched him move closer. This time, you let him back you against the wall. Your face was already heating up before he pressed a large hand to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your mouth.

“Mm, you’re not built for this,” he said, parting your lips gently and sliding his thumb inside, “but we could make this work.

You let him press your tongue down, eyelids fluttering when he started gently thrusting it deeper. You blinked, biting down teasingly.

He pulled his hand away with a smirk.

“I won’t make it easy for you,” you said, snapping his harness against his chest.

“But you’ll do it?”

You smiled, jerking him down to your level.

“Mm, convince me,”

Your lips met in a heated kiss, the two of you holding nothing back. His hands moved to your hips, lifting you like you were nothing. You held onto his shoulder straps, letting him sit you on one of the haybales stacked in the corner before tangling a hand into his curly hair, grabbing a fistful and tugging.

He grunted, opening your legs so he could slot himself between them.

“Did you fuck him?” he asked, kissing down your neck, busying his hands with unbuttoning your shirt.

“Yeah—fuck—should’ve heard his, mmph, his sounds,”

“ Fuck ,” he breathed into your neck, “let me show you how I’d do him, let me prove I’d make it good,”

You leaned back on your elbows; chest exposed. You glanced down at your shiny new belt buckle.

“Go ahead then,” you teased, “show me what you’ve got, big guy,”

‘Big’ turned out to be the right word. You thought his hands were big to look at, but nothing could’ve prepared you for how they’d feel inside you. Two fingers had you panting, gripping fistfuls of hay, and shouting with every thrust. He worked his tongue in beside them, briefly, and you thought you might’ve seen stars.

He wasn’t getting his dick in you, not yet, but he was more than making up for it. He mouthed at your cock, swallowing it down when he began teasing in a third finger. Your body tensed, broken noises crackling past your lips as you came down his throat. You felt him move around you, drinking you down like a man starved.

“Us bulls are good at that,” he smiled, voice not even hoarse, “gotta make the cows feel good too,”

You felt dizzy and drained, but when his fingertips started kneading and rubbing your prostate, you felt your cock twitch back to life.

He kissed his way up your chest, taking his time, thrusting his fingers in and out in time with his tongue on your throat.

You don’t remember all too well what happened after that, but you knew you had to have him again.

Chapter Text

Hands, touching...holding?? Touching. Mouth, his mouth?? No, someone else’s, they were biting, kissing, biting and kissing; his neck, his shoulders, chest, stomach and…lower. Lowing, gasping, it felt like, like…not y/n?

Mark’s eyes opened slowly, the dregs of sleep holding his lips sticky in place. He’d been dreaming about someone milking him, not an uncommon occurrence, but since that first time, he’d only thought of y/n since. 

This time…

“Mark?” a reedy voice drifted through the darkness, “are you awake??

“Ethan?” his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, “why are you--?” 

“Shh,” Ethan’s voice was muffled through the wood of their stalls, but Mark could tell when he was being shushed. “you’re being loud,”

Mark tensed.

“I’m fine,”

“I bet,” Ethan was audibly smirking, “can you be ‘fine’ when I’m not trying to sleep?”

Mark huffed.

“it’s not—I wasn’t—"

“Hey, judgement free zone, we all do it,”

“Ethan.” 

“Keep it down though, if not for my sake, for y/n’s,”

“I said it’s not—wait, why would y/n care?”

“I mean, if I heard my partner moaning someone else’s name…”

Mark blinked. The hands, the hands weren’t y/n’s, it wasn’t y/n’s mouth on his udder, then who—

“Especially a bull’s name, woof, my ego would never recover,” Ethan laughed like he made a joke, but Mark didn’t get it.

“I—h—you mean?”

“it’s ok, man,” Ethan placated, “I don’t judge, love is love, just giving you a pro-tip-”

The thump in his ears blocked out Ethan’s words, a shocking feat considering the kid wouldn’t fucking shut up—

Tyler? He was the only bull Mark had met since arriving at Geordy’s, but Tyler was…

He was...large? loud? He was funny, the few times Mark spoke with him, and y/n seemed to get on with him fine. But Mark had never…thought about him.

He’d noticed, sure, but it was hard not to. The blanket most centaurs wore was absent whenever Mark saw him, and why wouldn’t it be? Tyler had a lot to be…proud of. The harness was nice, too. But all of that was obvious, Mark had eyes, he couldn’t help it if they wandered sometimes.

But it was just that, wandering. He’d never thought about Tyler’s strong hands holding him up, or holding onto Tyler’s horns, or what it would feel like when he-

Fuck. His dream was coming back to him now. Tyler’s hands, strong and calloused, gentle where they pressed into his skin; his lips, chapped and rough and so fucking good at what they did. His eyes fluttered shut, picturing it. It was late, that was his justification. It was late, he was tired, y/n was asleep, and Ethan had…given him the idea. That’s all.

It didn’t mean anything. 

He bit his lip, holding back a whine when his legs opened. The night air was cold, but it was warm in the barn; nevertheless, a shiver worked its way up his spine. He felt around until he found his poncho, bunching it up and shifting until it was under him. His udders brushed the fabric when he shifted. It wasn’t enough to get him leaking, but it still felt nice. He grabbed fistfuls of hay, squeezing tight so he wouldn’t move too much.

Ethan was still awake, Mark had to be quiet.

Unless…

No. he wasn’t that desperate. He’d never be that desperate.

He didn’t have the patience to start slow, but, fuck, he’d love to be made to. Tyler would be good at that, making him listen, making him wait.

His face was pressed into his blankets, biting whatever he could to keep him from lowing, imagining it was Tyler keeping his chest down and ass up. He started rutting against the poncho in earnest, eyes screwed shut, voice caught in his chest, chest burning from the fabric rubbing against it.

It wasn’t enough, but it would work. He arched his back, pressing his tits into the rough blanket. He didn’t catch the moan that slipped out when his nipples pebbled, but it was muffled anyway.

Sweat dripped down his knees, sliding over his smooth fur, mixing with the slick saturating his inner thighs. The thought of Tyler seeing him now is what pushed him over the edge. He was a sight to behold, he was sure. Frotting against his poncho, barely stopping himself from moaning Tyler’s name.

“Ty—” he gasped into his arm, biting down until he broke the skin. The iron smell is what pulled him back down, knees shaking from the strength of his orgasm.

As he caught his breath, his senses started coming back as well. There was no hiding it, no excusing what had just happened. It was late, he was tired, y/n was asleep, and he’d gotten off to the thought of another guy. If that was all it took to sway him, how could he hope to be with y/n in the long-term? Sure, it was harmless enough now, but what about later? What if he went into heat (a rare occurrence, but an expected one) and y/n wasn’t around? Or worse, what if y/n was around, but he still chose someone else, someone better suited for his—

No. no, it was fine. He was catastrophizing, it was nothing, really. 

Really.

You let your hat fall to the ground, too busy to care. Mark’s hair was soft when you gripped it, pushing him down until he was choking. He was so pretty, large black eyes watering from the strain. His throat opened easily around your dick, fucking himself on it.

“Close,” you warned. You almost wanted to cry when he pulled off, but his hands replaced his lips and fuck.

You released on his face, somehow making him prettier. He surged towards you the second your eyes opened, moaning into your mouth. Your hand twisted into his hair, tugging and kneading his scalp. You could taste yourself on his lips and it made you a little crazy. 

You pulled him down until he was hovering above you. Cradling his face with one hand, you swiped your thumb through the mess you made, rubbing his kiss-bitten lips. 

“y/n,” he warned, voice breathy and entirely unconvincing.

“I know, don’t worry,” you pulled him into another kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

You held each other after, gently wiping mark’s face clean, laughing at your noses bumping together when you tried to kiss. You smiled into his forehead, carding a hand through his hair, unraveling the braids you’d made before.

“Mark,” you whispered, nuzzling him closer when you felt his hum in your chest, “need to ask you something,”

“Mm,” his hands were tracing circles under your shirt.

“Would you…I mean, it would be ok if…” you huffed. 

“What is it?” mark pulled back slightly so he could look up at you.

You took a breath.

“you’re a milk cow, which entails…things,”

His breathing hitched.

“Things?”

“I just, I was talking with Tyler, and—”

“Tyler? What does he have to do with anything,” Mark bit, but there was something else there, something shaky.

“He’s your bull, technically, so—”

“Listen, y/n,” he cut you off, “if Ethan said anything—”

“Ethan? Why would I—”

“He misunderstood, it—it was just a dream, and—wait,” he hesitated, “you didn’t…talk to Ethan?”

“No? I try to limit my Ethan time as much as possible. Bad for my constitution,”

“Then…why would you bring up Tyler?”

“Because he brought you up first?”

Mark blinked.

“He…did?”

You rolled onto your back, pressing your palms against your eyes. You took a centering breath.

“that’s what I was trying to tell you,” you said, looking over at him, “he’s your bull, he’s got duties to fulfill and you…you have needs that I can’t fulfill,”

Mark was propped on his elbow, turned towards you.

“Are you saying you want me to…sleep with Tyler?”

“that’s, Christ, don’t make it sound so intimate,” you smiled, “I wouldn’t mind,” you bit your lip, “if you’d let me watch,” 

This was it, the big gamble, the opening line. If Mark accepted, it would change things, of course, but change was something you’d learned to welcome since meeting Mark.

He was quiet for a moment, black eyes blinking rapidly. Slowly, his posture relaxed, and you could practically feel the steam coming from him.

“Just watch?” he drawled, leaning over you. You let him kiss you for a moment, your hand moving from his chest to his back, sliding over his skin and searing into him like a brand.

“Maybe more, if you ask nicely,” you teased. His eyes widened in mock-pleading.

“Please, y/n?” he lowered himself until his head rested just under your collar bone.

You huffed, rolling your eyes to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Is Tyler okay with it, you watching?” Mark asked, sitting up. His arms looped under his knees, keeping him balanced.

“More than ok with it, surprisingly,” you propped yourself up on your elbows, letting your head fall back as memories flooded your thoughts, “he’ll take care of you,”

“So will you,” he prodded your calf with his hoof. You smiled, sitting up so you could press kisses to his sweet face.

“he’ll take care of me too,” you waggled your eyebrows.

“Ok, alright,” Mark laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes were soft and fond and made you feel like a batch of freshly baked cookies, the kind you and Geordy made every winter. Maybe you’d make some with Mark this year.

Maybe you’d make some with Tyler too.

Buzzer was curled up in your lap when you heard it, the tap, tap, tapping of something knocking against your window. You closed your eyes tighter, huffing defiantly. No. Absolutely not. It was three in the damn morning, whatever alien or serial killer lurking outside would just have to suck it.

Tap tap tap

Tap tap tap tap

Tap tap t—

“Dammit!” you yelled, rolling over and opening your curtains. The sight that greeted you made you angrier than any serial killer ever could.

“Tyler, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you sounded like death herself, hissing through your teeth. He smirked.

“What, I thought you liked me?” his hands dropped to his hips, stones falling to the ground. 

“Fuck off,” you moved to close your window, but he cut you off.

“Having second thoughts? You’re the one who agreed to this little rendezvous,”

Your sleep-addled mind was fighting to keep up, but the shit-eating grin on his face jogged your memory. You groaned.

“Now? You’ve gotta be kidding me,” your head dropped against the hands holding the window open. 

“haven’t you heard? Three a.m. is the prime breeding hour,” he cocked his head to the side.

You squinted.

“You’re full of shit,”

“And yet, you’re still gonna come with, aren’t you?”

You huffed.

“I fucking hate you,”

His smile grew.

“Hurry up then, Mark’s waiting,” he winked.

You shut the window, clicking the locks in place. 

“Asshole,” you muttered, grabbing your hoodie and boots off the front porch as you left the house.

To Ty’s credit, Mark was waiting. His little ears perked up when the barn door opened.

“y’know, we could’ve done this sooner if you’d let me at him that first night,” Tyler mused, muscles flexing when he slid the door shut behind you.

“You were the one who interrupted, like hell I was gonna reward you,” you elbowed him, rolling your eyes when he gasped in mock pain.

“Reward me?” he drawled, “you saying I have to be good for you?” 

You scrunched your face up, your finger-point a warning.

Mark had stood up from the blankets he’d been sitting on. One was already tossed over the chicken coop. 

“Hey,” you said, notably softer than you’d been with Tyler, “you still okay?”

He nodded, accepting the soft kiss you pressed to his lips.

“he’s been looking forward to it, right, Mark?” you felt Tyler’s presence behind you before he even touched you. Mark flushed, but held his ground.

“So have you,” he challenged, that stubborn streak you always loved showing its head.

“Of course, have you seen yourself?” one of Tyler’s hands slid over your shoulder when he passed, the look he was giving Mark borderline predatory. “Who wouldn’t be begging for a taste,” 

Mark’s chest spasmed. It was weird, seeing him get flustered over someone else. It was also too hot for you to really care. Mark swallowed thickly. He was losing his fight, but holding on.

“Beg, then.” He said, cocking an eyebrow.

It was a sight, to be sure. Mark, a milk cow, in all of his 5’8 splendor, facing down a seven-foot bull and telling him to beg.

Your stomach turned in all the best ways.

Chapter Text

    “So, how are we doing this?” Tyler asked, his voice a warm rumble between your thighs. He bit into the flesh, sucking another mark into your skin.

            You huffed; hands shaky where they carded through Mark’s hair. He was half on top of you, his legs wrapped around one of yours – the one Tyler wasn’t occupying – grinding against your thigh. His head had fallen between your collarbones, and you could feel his warm breath against your skin.

            “Just,” you had to take a moment to catch your breath, you were still wearing your shirt for Christ’s sake, “fuck him first, he needs it,”

            Mark groaned against you, one of his hands reaching for yours.

            “That okay, baby?” Tyler asked Mark, pressing his chest against Mark’s back so he could speak directly in his ear.

            “Mhm,” Mark nodded, eyes darting away from where Tyler had started kissing up his shoulder.

            You let yourself appreciate his shy blush for a moment. It was cute, how he was still vying for the high ground.

            Tyler pulled Mark’s hips up, pushing him so he was leaning on his elbows, hovering above you.

            “Hi,” you smiled, cupping his face. You smoothed your thumbs over his cheeks.

            “h—ng,” his eyes squeezed shut, mouth dropping open mid-sentence.

            “Shh, just relax,” Tyler said, kneeling before the two of you.

            Mark’s body started to move, and it took you a moment to realize he was pushing back against Tyler’s fingers. You pulled him into a kiss, chasing his mouth with every rolling motion.

            Even without seeing him stand, you knew the exact moment Tyler pushed his cock inside. Mark’s balance crumpled, his face smushing awkwardly into yours when he fell forward. His hips wiggled back, and you could hear Tyler chuckle. Mark lowed into your neck, gripping your shoulders tighter while Tyler got him used to the stretch.

            “Pretty, isn’t it?” Tyler smiled, “you should see ‘em in heat,”

            “I will,” you cocked a smile, “before you do, I bet,”

            His eyebrows furrowed, making his growing smile seem far more sinister. He picked up his pace without warning, shoving Mark further into your neck.

            “Yeah?” he taunted, “we’ll see about that, hon’”

            Mark lowed again and in your haze of lust and competition, you almost missed why.

            Tyler’s hand had moved from Mark’s hip to his ass, disappearing from your line of sight. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was doing, though.

            “What, y’planning on knotting him?” you teased, inwardly wondering if that was even possible.

            “Just making room for you,” his smile somehow grew more confident, “if you’re up for the challenge, that is,”

            Your breath caught in your chest. Did he mean…?

            Tyler reached down with his other hand, fondling Mark’s udders while fucking him. Mark’s head bowed back, a deep low rumbling from his core. Tyler joined him not long after, his movements stuttering as he let himself just feel.

            His hand came back soaked in milk and cum.

            “Mm,” he hummed, sucking the tip of his thumb, “not bad,”

            “You should taste him after round three,” you said, noticeably panting.

            “I look forward to it,”

             —|—

            It was hard not to laugh at Mark’s face, jaw heavy where it hung slack, eyes rapidly squeezing shut before blowing wide again. Pushing inside him was a simple task, and you mentally thanked Tyler for the prep.

            “Shh,” you cooed, kissing his cheek. His hands tightened on your shoulders, nails leaving crescent-shaped souvenirs in their wake.

            “Shit,” Tyler paused his thrusts, “give me a second, fuck,”

            “Close already?” you jeered, ignoring the fact that you’d been on the edge since first lining your dick up with Tyler’s.

            “Shut up,” he cursed, bending over to brace his hands next to your head. His slow, even breaths were close enough to hit your face, and you took a moment to just admire him. He shifted his weight to one arm, showing off his impressive physique.

 Mark sighed when Tyler began stroking his hair, burying his nose into your chest.

            Slowly, he eased further inside, spurring you to do the same. You turned your head to the side, kissing Tyler’s wrist. He smiled, huffing a laugh.

            “Don’t be cute right now, m’trying to focus,”

            “Shame,” you said, “now you know how it feels trying to get work done with you flaunting your tits everywhere,”

            “Aww,” he cooed, “you have a crush on me,”

            You rolled your eyes, worried for a moment that they’d get stuck when Tyler thrust up, burying himself to the base.

            The sound Mark made was something between strangled and wanting. You wanted – no – needed to hear it again.

            “Gonna start moving, okay babydoll?” you scratched Mark’s scalp gently, drawing his gaze upwards. He nodded; voice seemingly lost.

            It was an awkward angle, but Mark was more than eager to help, pulling himself off yours and Tyler’s dicks ever so slightly, before pushing back down. His pace was slow, and you could tell Ty was losing his patience.

            Tyler dropped a kiss to your forehead before sitting upright. His hands found Mark’s hips, leaving shiny, sweaty prints on his fur. Realization dawned on Mark’s face as Tyler pulled him up, a panicked gasp leaving his chest, his hands reaching wildly for yours before he was slammed down on your cocks, his body bowing back from the strength of his low.

            All you could do is hold his hands and watch, watch, watch as Tyler upped the pace until Mark was sobbing, watch as his chest heaved from the force of being used, as his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

            You felt when he came, his body squeezing tight around you, the rolling waves of his orgasm making you squirm, grinding up into him, chasing your own release. Tyler pulled Mark fast against his chest, burying his cock in Mark’s body and his face in Mark’s neck. He breathed in deep when he came, and the feeling of his cum releasing around your dick is what made your own string snap.

            “Fuck,” you gasped, gripping Mark’s hands hard enough to cut off circulation.

            Tyler didn’t seem keen on stopping so soon, he eased Mark off and laid him down, kissing the whine from his mouth before dragging you closer. He kissed like a starving kitten, desperate and sloppy. You met his pace, burying your hands in his curls and pulling as hard as you could until you could taste his groan in the back of your throat.

            “Wanna fuck you,” he said between kisses.

            “Fuck,” you pulled away for a moment, “yeah, okay, yeah,” you could feel his smile against your lips, it was contagious.

You got on your hands and knees, letting him push your torso towards the ground. You gripped at the blankets, turning your head so you could watch Mark.

He was catching his breath, eyes glued to Tyler’s fingers working you open. You had to close your eyes after that, but you could feel Mark’s on you. You gasped when Tyler’s fingers hit your prostate, whining when he began to tease it with his fingertips.

“ Ty ,” you barely recognized your own voice, it’s been a while since you were last fucked, and you sounded wrecked . Mark made a strangled noise beside you, and you could tell without looking that he was blushing.

“Shh,” he hushed you, rubbing up and down your back like he was soothing a dog, “you’re doing so good, that’s it,” you felt your body relax, “good, good boy,”

“Don’t you fucking —” your words were cut off with a well-timed jab at your prostate. You knew he was smirking behind you, that dick .

“What was that? Wanna try that again?”

“you fucker, I f—nhng,”

Oh, he was testing you now. If he wasn’t so fucking hot, oh, you’d fucking kill him.

“You gotta speak up, doll, I can’t hear from back here,” his grin was no doubt shit-eating, and fuck if you didn’t wanna wipe it off his stupid, handsome face.

            It’s like he sensed the moment you opened your mouth to rip him a new one, choosing that exact moment to press his cockhead inside, pushing your whole body forwards with it. Your eyes shot open, locking dizzily with Mark’s hungry ones. He was laying on his front, same as you, legs spread, udder rutting messily against the blankets. He looked ready for round two, but he’d have to wait. You were busy.

            One of Tyler’s hands fisted in your hair, jerking your head back, exposing your throat.

            “aren’t they pretty, Mark?” he asked, openly watching Mark pleasure himself and doing nothing to intervene.

            “Mhmm,” Mark tensed, waiting to see where Tyler was going with this.

            “c’mere, get a nice look,”

            You groaned, watching as Mark kneeled on shaky legs, scooting over to Tyler. Three heavy breaths became two when Mark’s hitched, catching in his chest. He’d never seen someone be fucked in person before, used to being on the receiving end. His breathing came back stuttered and wheezing.

            “Wanna try?” Tyler’s voice was low and sultry and fuck, you knew there was no way Mark could resist.

            “How?”

            “I’ll show you,”

            Mark choked, and you could picture him nodding enthusiastically.

            “Here,” Tyler guided Marks hand to your ass, not bothering to pull out.

            “Wait—” you gasped, it had been too long, you couldn’t, there was no way that he would— “fuck”

            Tyler pulled out a few pity inches, but it wasn’t enough to account for the thick finger probing at your entrance.

            “Like this?”

            “Perfect,” Tyler’s deep voice rumbled just behind Mark’s ear, his chest pressed against his naked back, “here,” Tyler pulled out, drawing a whine from you, despite your internal relief. You heard a lid uncapping behind you, and the sounds of lube being spread on fingers.

            When Mark’s finger returned to your hole, it was cool and slick, and slid in easily thanks to Tyler’s cock stretching you only moments prior. He was hesitant, clearly looking to Tyler for instruction.

            “Like this?” he curled his finger, brushing just next to your prostate. You tensed and whined and felt his hold stutter at your reaction.

            “Mhmm, good, add another?” Tyler reached around Mark, spreading your ass so Mark could see more clearly.

            Mark nodded, slipping a second finger in with the rest. His thrusts grew more confident, spurred on by Tyler’s affirmative hums, which he was pressing into Mark’s skin between kisses. His lips reached the tip of one of Mark’s floppy ears, tugging at the tag pierced into it. Mark whined, leaning further against Tyler’s chest.

            “Another?” Mark asked, squirting more lube directly onto your hole.

            “Good,” Tyler hummed, voice growing husky. One of his hands snaked up to grope Mark’s tits, “so good,”

            Ah. Praise. Mark’s one weakness.

            You were gripping the blankets tighter, jaw clenching despite being dropped open. There was something about it being Mark’s fingers that brought you closer to edge.

            “Close,” you huffed, body tensing as you tried to chase Mark’s fingers.

            You would’ve gotten there fine as is, but Mark started pressing a fourth finger to your rim, and just the thought of what could follow made your back arch, a long groan leaving your mouth.

            You’d barely finished when you were turned around, hauled onto your knees, and kissed within an inch of your life. Mark’s mouth was familiar and hungry, hardly bothering to set a pace, intent on pulling every sound he could from your mouth. You let him lead, changing the angle slightly so you could wrap your arms around his shoulders. You heard Tyler chuckle beside you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about him right now. Mark bent back, pulling you ever so slightly off your knees. When he let go, you both crashed against Tyler’s chest, and he was quick to wrap his arms around the two of you.

            “How’s that for a first time,” he asked, resting his head on Mark’s protectively.

            “You pass,” you said, catching your breath. You kissed him too. Shorter, but saturated with desire.

            The three of you stayed like that for a moment, tangled together, panting, and sweaty. You had no clue how you were gonna clean up this mess. There was a hose outside, but it was chilly at night. Ah well, you’d figure it out later.

            Beside you, Mark twitched, his udder frotting shyly against your thigh. You watched as Ty noticed, reaching a hand down to thumb over the head of one of Mark’s teats.

            “Round three already?” he teased, leaning down to kiss Mark. It was deep and dirty, practically dripping with “mine.”

            You moved over, watching Tyler’s hands ravage your boyfriend. A smile spread over your lips, and you bit them to hide your excitement.

            “Hey Ty,” you grabbed his attention, “why don’t you show him how good you are with your mouth?”

            Tyler smiled wickedly.

            “Y’know, I like the way you think,” he turned his attention back to Mark, who was shaking in anticipation for what was to come. You laid back, elbow propped against a stray hay pile.

This was going to be fun to watch.

Chapter Text

The wind howled restlessly outside your window, leaving the dead April grass utterly unimpressed. You were changing out of your overalls, taking a moment to stretch. Your arms fell to your side, swinging slightly when you walked towards your dresser. You had a date with Mark later, and hadn’t decided what you were going to wear yet.

            You hummed a tune as you were getting ready, something jumpy you’d heard on the radio in town earlier. You didn’t get much signal out here, so the radio was a privilege you rarely got to indulge in. You turned in the mirror, watching the way your skirt twisted around your knees. Pretty.

            You’d switched to humming a different song, one on Geordy’s old records, when you passed the stables. There was a loud sound inside, followed by a frustrated yell.

            “Ethan!” you recognized Amy’s voice, “sit still,”

            You didn’t hear any more, rushing past as quickly as you could. You pitied Amy but…not enough to miss out on your date, and definitely not enough to put up with whatever nonsense Ethan was up to.

            You reached the clearing and sat down, setting up the picnic basket you’d brought and laying down on the blanket. You’d worn leggings under your skirt, which you were thankful for when a sharp breeze passed by. It was still early spring, not nearly warm enough for a picnic, but it wasn’t like you had many other options.

            Minutes passed with no sign of Mark, and then more, and then more, until the cool of night started creeping up your skirt. You checked the time. An hour had passed. Mark wasn’t coming.

            You gathered your things, folding the blanket haphazardly. You didn’t care that he’d skipped, you cared why. What if he was hurt? Or had been held up? You weren’t the spiraling type, but you’d never had someone like Mark before. You loved him, and he depended on you. Not that he was helpless, far from it, but he was still a hybrid.

            You left the basket outside when you entered the stables, looking around for a familiar head of dark hair.

            “y/n!” Ethan called from his stall, “what brings you out this late?”

            He sounded strange, but you ignored it. Ethan had sounded strange since his voice dropped at age 14. Pretending it hadn’t would never not sound pitiful.

            “Looking for Mark, have you seen him around?”

            “Mark?” his voice pitched. Covering it up with a laugh, he added, “um, yeah, I think Amy took him out earlier, didn’t ask why, though,”

            “Mm,” you glanced around again, but there was no sign of him. If Amy had him, he was fine. You let your shoulders drop, turning back towards the door. Behind you, Ethan had started humming. It was familiar, you just couldn’t place why.

            You were tucked in bed when you got a message. It was too expensive to pay for each hybrid to have their own phone number, so you communicated with the boys via SMS messengers. Outdated, sure, but it was the cheapest option.

            Ethan said you called, I’m ok :)

            You smiled; Mark was sweet to worry. A few seconds later, another message popped up.

            Same time tomorrow?

            You sent a thumbs up, tossing your messenger onto your desk.

            It was a little warmer the next day, so you opted out of the leggings. You were laid back, similar to the position you’d been in the day before.

            You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. Drifting off, you became distantly aware of the sound of underbrush crunching.

            “Mm, right on time,” you said, not bothering to open your eyes. You felt Mark’s hand trace up your calf, his thumb stroking over your knee. He was breathing heavily, like he’d been running.

            “Worn out?” you teased, “the fun hasn’t even started yet, doll,”

            His mouth replaced his hands, making you hum. He kissed down your thighs, pausing suggestively over your crotch before moving on. When he reached your mouth, he was breathing heavier, the faint smell of carrots was the last thing you noticed before you were kissing him, your hands grabbing at his poncho, his hands in your hair.

            It was…different, like he’d forgotten everything you’d taught him up to that point. You pulled back slightly to change the angle, but he grabbed your face, holding you against him while he straddled you. His udder nearly knocked you off-balance, frotting against your stomach in haphazard thrusts.

            This was wrong, there was something off with Mark, something…something had changed. You tried to pull back again, only for him to whine into your mouth.

            You froze.

            That wasn’t Mark’s whine.

            Your eyes shot open, hands braced against his, whoever he was, chest. Your body tensed. A pair of dull green eyes stared back at you. You pushed as hard as you could, scrambling back.

            Ethan fell on his ass, his legs sprawled open in front of him, chest heaving.

            “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you yelled, your voice raising when you noticed his hands shaking.

            “Please,” he croaked, he sounded ruined, parched, “please please please please y/n,” he was borderline sobbing, a pathetic mess of a man. He hadn’t tried to pick himself up or even lift his head, as if there was a weight holding him down.

            Your eyes darted around wildly, looking for some kind of explanation. They landed on his udder, full and leaking. That explained the desperation, but the other stuff, the…stuff he’d tried, he’d never acted like before, no matter how desperate he was.

            “y/n,” he hiccupped. He was pathetic, curled in on himself, shifting on the grass as if it would offer release.

            “you’re sick, Ethan,” you tried to push every ounce of disgust you felt into your words, “something’s wrong with you, deeply wrong,”

            He nodded, sniffling and choking on his tears.

            “Yes, yes, I know, please, please just—” he doubled forward, his bangs brushing the grass. The sound he made twisted your gut, a heart-shattering low that rattled your eardrums and no doubt scared any rabbits hiding nearby.

            Your stomach dropped.

            “Ethan,” you scooted closer, hesitantly reaching for his head, “Ethan,” you repeated, firmer this time.

            He made a noise, glancing up at you through his curtain of bangs.

            “Ethan, where’s…have you spoken to Tyler recently?” you cringed at your wording.

            “No,” he croaked, “no he won’t, he won’t—”

            “Shit,” you looked down at the ground.

            Ethan was in heat.

            Dammit.

            “And Amy…?”

            “No,” he shook his head, still clutching at his waist, “no, she, I—no,”

            “Did she try?”

            “She won’t, I need,” he gasped, lurching forwards again, “I need more,”

            He bit his lip, looking up at you.

            “But you, you and Mark, you have experience, I know you do, and I—I thought—”

            “No, Ethan I’m not—”

            “Please,” he whined, the back of his throat hoarse from lowing, “you don’t have to do anything, I can—I know how, and—”

            You tuned him out, focusing on the dirt beneath your knees. You couldn’t seriously be considering this, right? Tyler was one thing, but Ethan? No. No.

            But…

            You’d known Ethan for years, practically grew up together. You remembered the first time you met him; you were softer and smaller, no more than four or five, waddling into the barn in your snowsuit, tripping over your new boots. He was smaller than you then, all baby-faced and nervous. He’d been hiding in his stall, buried under a heap of blankets, reading a magazine. You hit it off, back then, walking around holding hands, wrestling over snacks, taking turns covering each other in mud and pretending to be monsters.

            When you moved in with Geordy after high school, he was a bit different. But you were too, so you never minded much. You’d been close then, as well, playing Mario kart and talking about girls. You taught him to paint his nails then, and you still did each other’s from time to time.

            Seeing him like this was hard. Even though he annoyed the hell out of you and made you want to turn the farm into a damn beef factory sometimes, he was still your friend. Kind of.

            You groaned, burying your face in your hands, pulling your hair.

            “I’ll do it,” you squeezed your eyes shut.

            “Really?” he sounded so excited, dammit.

            “Yes, but no more kissing or…touching, or whatever,”

            “Okay, okay, thank you, y/n, thank y—”

            “Yeah, yeah, hurry up before I regret it,”

            You leaned back on your elbows, letting him straddle you. He reached for your skirt, but you batted his hands away.

            “Hands to yourself, I’ll do it,”

            You lifted your skirt, wiggling your boxers past your hips.

            You woke with a start, clutching your hat to your chest.

            “What the fuck?” you whispered, eyes darting around wildly, taking in your surroundings.

            “y/n?” Ethan asked, voice far too close for your liking.

            You twisted away with a yelp.

            “don’t do that, fuck,” you hissed, taking a few deep breaths to steady your racing heart.

            He snickered.

            “Flighty, nightmare?” he asked, crouching next to you, picking a piece of hay from the pile you’d been napping on and flicking at your face.

            “Yeah,” you shuddered. Had you really been about to…?

            Ethan snorted, standing up, giving you a clear view of his udder swaying beneath his cloak. You couldn’t help but stare, it was so close to how it looked in your dream. It’d been a while since you’d seen Ethan…full, and the idea of your subconscious spending time imagining what it would look like made you gag a little.

            Ethan stretched, letting out a satisfied sigh.

            “Well, let me know if you need my help again so I can avoid you, see ya,” he walked towards the field, humming a familiar tune as he left.

            A familiar tune…

Chapter Text

“Do you understand?”

            You blinked, shaking yourself.

            “Uh, yeah, yeah I’ve got you,” you nodded for good measure, hoping to dispel the suspicion wrinkling Geordy’s forehead.

            It was routine stuff, nothing you hadn’t done a hundred times. Your stables were being inspected, and you were in charge of moving all the cows out to the far pasture for the day. It was never a difficult task, the addition of Tyler to your herd making it infinitely easier. He had a spell over your milk cows, and you couldn’t blame them. He had something of a spell on you as well.

            It had been a few weeks since your last “meeting” with the bull, and it weighed heavy on your mind and in the pit of your stomach, churning a smile out of you at least daily. Geordy had noticed your increased attention to Tyler, because of course he had. He’d practically raised you, and Tyler had always been his friend first and his bull second. He’d never admit it, and you couldn’t say with certainty that he even knew he thought it, but he’d always hoped you’d take a shining to Tyler. He’d been supportive, or as close as he could get, of your relationship with Mark; but a part of you had always wondered…if Mark hadn’t have come…

            “Y/n,”

            “Hm?” you perked up, coming face to chest with the very object of your thoughts.

            “Enjoy your landing?” Tyler teased, “y’know, ‘cause you’re so spacey lately,”

            You brushed him off, shoving him a little harder than necessary. He smiled, hooves tamping down dirt behind you. He barely had to take two strides before he caught up, and not for the first time you envied his size.

            His size…

            Dammit, now you were blushing again.

            He whistled to draw your attention, bending down slightly to put a less egregious distance between you.

            “How’s Mark? You’ve been keeping him so busy, I miss my little calf,”

            You wrinkled your nose.

            “Don’t call him that,”

            “I’ll call him what I want,” he said, “unless, of course, you’re jealous?”

            “I agreed to your arrangement, why would I b—”

            “Shh, you misunderstand,” he cocked his head to the side, “I’m askin’ if you want a nickname too,”

            You flushed, walking a little faster.

            “Don’t wear yourself out,” you said after a tense couple of steps, “your little brain can only work so hard,”

            He whistled again, this time in mock insult.

            “M’kay, guess I’ll have to take my time, really find one that fits,”

            “I guess so,” you said, busying yourself with unlocking the barn. You felt him sidle up behind you, followed by his strong arms wrapping around you. He took the key from your steadily slacking grasp, fitting it into the lock with a clunk. You barely had time to breath before he’d stepped back, letting the open padlock swing on its chain.

            “See you later, moving day, right?”

            “Mhmm,” you said tersely, hoping your voice didn’t come off half as strangled as you felt.

            It took a few breaths to regain some semblance of dignity. You refused to let Ethan of all people see you flustered (especially after that weird dream you’d had a few days ago).

            “Y/nnnnnnnnn,” you were greeted by a truly pathetic whine when you opened the door, followed by an even more pathetic low.

            “Don’t even start, you’ve known about moving day for damn near a week now,” you didn’t bother to look at Ethan as you set about gathering leads and feed buckets, “whatever puppy eyes you’re giving won’t work, don’t even try,”

            You only looked up briefly when passing Mark’s stall, sharing a teasingly exasperated look.

            “But, but, but—”

            “Ethan,”

            Ethan squeaked when he heard Amy’s voice, his ears drooping in time with his flattening expression.

            “You’re a lifesaver,” you whispered to her, passing her Ethan’s lead.

            “Uhuh, you owe me,” she winked, making you snort.

            “Will a dick pic and three days of chores cover it?” you teased, lips twitching when she pretended to deliberate.

            “Depends on who’s dick it is,” she said, elbowing you with a smile, “Ethan!” she shouted, a bless few inches from you ear, “c’mon, stop fussing—”

            Mark was smiling when you circled back to his stall, resting his head on his arms, looking a picture of grace.

            You whistled, drawing his gaze up.

            “Your first moving day, excited?”

            “Mm, sooo excited,” he said, sarcasm heavy in his smile.

            “Ty’ll be out with you, you’ll have company,”

            “So will he, I’m sure,”

            “Yeah, well,” you shrugged, sliding his stall open, “defeats the purpose if he’s loyal,”

            Mark hummed, already moving on from the topic. You caught his eyes, a heated gaze passing between the two of you. It had been a few days since you’d gotten to spend time together, longer than you’d spent apart in a while. If it weren’t for your heavy workload today, you’d clip a lead around his neck and drag him off to the darkest available corner.

            “Later,” you said, keeping your voice low.

            He nodded, his throat rumbling through a strangled whine.

            “Quit flirting,” Amy shouted from the other end of the barn.

            You stuck your tongue out at her, laughing with Mark as you moved on to the next stall.

            “Stay next to Ty, okay?” you said over your shoulder, content with his thumbs up. Ty was a handful, but he was a sweetie when it came to his cows. You had no doubt that he’d keep a watchful eye over them; especially Mark, now that he meant so much to you.

            You glanced over your checklist for the umpteenth time, tired eyes skipping over words and jumbling letters until you had tunnel vision. Time to rest, then.

            You called to Amy, pointing at your water bottle, waiting for her thumbs up before reaching for it and plopping down on the dirt floor. You closed your eyes, wincing when they burned. Thoughts of sleeping in and fresh breakfast drifted past your eyelids, brutally interrupted by the beep of your SMS messenger.

            Mark with you?

You wrinkled your eyebrows at Tyler’s message.

            What?

            Why would he be with me?

Seconds passed before he responded.

            Nvm

            Never mind? Never mind what?

            Ty, Is he not with you?

            You texted, blinking through tired eyelids. There was no response. Frustrated, you tossed your SMS to the ground, gulping down more water before holding your checklist at arm’s length. You squinted at the text. You had work to do, Mark was Tyler’s responsibility, it wasn’t your problem to worry about.

            You ignored the knot in your stomach, jogging over to help Amy oil the stall hinges.

            Tyler laughed at something one of the cows said, walking around the herd. His eyes darted from cow to cow, searching for a familiar head of soft brown hair. It was weird for Mark to avoid him, maybe he was having second thoughts? Tyler’s gaze landed on Ethan instead. He was off to the side, helping one of the calves make muddy handprints on the fence.

            Tyler whistled, grabbing his attention.

            “Oh! Hey—”

            “Mark, have you seen him?” Tyler cut him off, not really interested in having more of a conversation than he had to.

            “Not since this morning, he walked out with us, but after that,” Ethan shrugged, “no clue,”

            Tyler nodded, turning around. His hands moved from his hips to cross over his chest, pressing his tits together. His harness rubbed awkwardly on his skin, but he didn’t notice, too lost in thought.

He’d decided against messaging y/n again, they had enough to worry about, but that left the investigation to him. He sighed, chest raising and falling from the weight of it. This was part of his responsibility as a bull, after all.

            Mark woke up to a blinding light. His limbs were heavy, no, weighed down by something. He tried to move his mouth but found he couldn’t, his tongue twitching uselessly against a hard, plasticky insert of some kind. He was vaguely aware of someone humming close to him before his eyes squinted shut, sleep overtaking him once more.

            The sun was beginning to set, and you sagged alongside it. The day was coming to a close, the barn was in working order, and the cows should be making their way back for the night any minute now. There was no real reason for you to oversee them, but it helped with Geordy’s peace of mind, so you sucked your soul back into your spine and kept your eyes peeled for Tyler.

            His horns were visible before he was, poking up and swaying under the weight of one of the calves holding on tight. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

He was such an attentive bull, which made his earlier confusion about Mark all the more baffling. You greeted him with a wave, sliding open the heavy door. He barely looked at you when he passed.

            You counted the cows as they entered, then wrinkled your eyebrows, then counted again.

One short.

The knot from earlier re-formed in your stomach, and you found yourself stalking over to Tyler before you realized you were moving.

            His face was tense with apprehension, his whole body drawn tight as if expecting a blow.

            “Never mind,” you quoted, sneering up at him.

            “Y/n, listen—”

            “No, you listen,” you said, “find him, now,”

            “But I just—”

            “Do I look like I care? Come on, I’ll look too. It’s getting dark, which means it’s getting cold,” you grabbed a spare poncho, clipping a lead to Tyler’s harness and dragging him out of his stall.

            He could have resisted if he wanted, but then he’d be neglecting his duties as a bull. You knew him well enough to know he’d rather trudge around in the cold than risk that.

            When Mark woke up the second time, it was pitch black. The sterile, empty smell from before was gone, replaced by the thick scent of nature and mud. He felt strangely refreshed and…full?

Not full of milk, or food, or even dick; just…full.

            The answer to his conundrum came sooner than expected. He stood up, leaning against a nearby tree for balance. While he was finding his footing, he felt the sensation of something sliding around inside him, or rather, sliding out of him. He clenched his legs together on instinct, he may be partially animal, but he drew the line at shitting himself in the woods.

            What came from him wasn’t of his own making, though. Instead, a small, round, bright green orb dropped to the leaves beneath him. Mark stared at it, and for a moment, he felt as if it was staring back at him. Mark blinked, an involuntary shudder wracking his body. It was then that he realized it was cold, and he was alone in the woods with only a thin poncho keeping him from the elements. He began looking around after that, heading in the direction that was probably north.

            More orbs slid out of him as he walked, making him shift uncomfortably with every step. What was going on?

            Over an hour had passed before you received an SMS from Tyler. It was short, just the name of his location and the word “come,” but who were you to deny a potential lead. The frosty night air bit into your face as you jogged, relief when you spotted Tyler doing little to ease the chill. He was standing at the edge of the woods, flashlight pointed down at the grass.

            “what’s up? Did you find something?”

            “Maybe,” he said, nodding for you to come closer, “I found this…thing, seems like there’s a trail of them and, look,” he pointed at an imprint next to the object. Your eyes widened.

            “Hoof prints,” you said, voice hushed, “Mark?”

Tyler nodded, shining the flashlight ahead of him.

            “Unless Geordy decided to host an egg hunt recently, I don’t see who else it could be,”

            “What are they?” you grimaced at the orb, crouching down to get a closer look. There seemed to be something inside it, floating in the cloudy liquid. You wanted to touch it, but knew better than to mess with something funky on a farm.

            “We can ask Mark when we find him,” Tyler helped you up, resting a hand on your shoulder and gripping. His hand trembled slightly before releasing you entirely. He stood a step forward, but not before you reached for his arm, holding his hand in your own. He didn’t look at you, but you saw his shoulders relax slightly.

            With a nod, you picked up your pace, following his lead.

            “he’s gonna be okay, Ty,” you said after a moment, “he’s tough, hella stubborn too,”

            “I know,” he said, jaw clenched.

            You nodded again, dropping the topic.

You followed the trail for another thirty minutes or so before Tyler perked up, holding out an arm to stop you.

            “What is i—”

            “Shh,” he hissed, closing his eyes. they snapped open almost immediately, and then you were scooped off the ground, held under one of Tyler’s massive arms as he galloped towards the distant barn.

            You wheezed, scrambling to hold on despite the arm digging into your ribcage.

            “Ty?” you choked, but he didn’t respond. By the time he skidded to a stop, your waist was burning. He dropped you to the ground, leaving you to pick yourself up while he yanked the door open.

Your heart was pounding in your chest. Was it Mark? Had Ty found him?

            “You,” Tyler growled, but it wasn’t a possessive, worried growl like you’d expect if he found Mark. No, Tyler sounded cruel, and you just managed to roll out of the way before he was kicking up dirt with his hooves, snorting at whatever was inside the barn.

            You had half the mind to stop him but, well, you trusted Tyler’s judgement. He charged into the darkness, and you heard a panicked yell before it was snuffed out beneath the stomp of Tyler’s hooves. You grabbed the flashlight he dropped, shining it into the barn. You stared in bated shock, finding a heaving Tyler and the broken, torn up body of…something.

            “What the hell?” you said, voice startlingly flat despite the carnage in front of you. Tyler’s horns were dripping with bright green fluid, the rest of the substance quickly soaking into the dirt floor. His hands and legs were drenched in the same stuff, stuff you were slowly realizing was blood.

            The corpse in front of him twitched slightly, bringing Tyler’s front hoof back down against its mangled skull. You closed your eyes to the horror, and then opened them again, morbidly curious. The creature was varying shades of grey accented by a toxic neon green. A thick, septic odor wafted towards you, making you stumble back when the gore could not. It had stopped moving, and Tyler seemed to deflate in front of you, shoulders dropping.

            He grimaced, wiping his hoof on the ground as best he could.

            “sorry ‘bout that,” he said, finally looking in your direction.

            “’s fine,” you said. Now that the moment had passed, you had to admit…Ty looked pretty hot.

            Sweaty from the run, covered in congealing fluids, panting from exertion. It was a good look on him. As long as you ignored the body at his hooves.

            “Mark should be fine, now,” he said cryptically, shutting the door behind him when he exited. You nodded because what else could you do, and followed him around the back of the barn.

There was an old, rotting shed on the edge of your property. You kept it up for the odd feral cat or fox that stalked around, but as you drew closer, you realized it was just the right size for a lost cow boy to hide out in.

            You didn’t wait for Tyler’s go-ahead before running towards it. You heard the tell-tale tinkle of a bell before you’d even reached the door.

            Inside, crouched amidst a small fortune of green eggs, was Mark. He was using his poncho as a blanket, his little legs folded as close to his chest as possible. The knot in your stomach finally unraveled. He was safe, cold, but safe.

            “I can’t—” he said quietly, “I don’t know how to make it stop,”

            You crouched next to him, sliding his makeshift blanket higher. He shivered, and you followed close behind when you saw what exactly it was that he couldn’t stop.

            His hole stretched around one of those green eggs, fluttering slightly after it was pushed out, then tensing in preparation for another one. You resisted the urges rising inside you; Mark was scared, and the last thing he needed was sex. Especially in a cold, tetanus-ridden shed.

            You pulled the poncho down, helping him up, and then onto Tyler’s back after realizing he could hardly walk without chattering. You couldn’t help but feel jealous of Tyler, getting to feel Mark flutter open against his skin.

            You shook it off.

            The moon was high when you arrived back at the barn, but you decided to walk a little further, bringing Mark up to the house instead. You helped him inside, exchanging tired thanks with Tyler.

Mark wasn’t shaking as hard as when you found him, but you led him into the bathroom all the same. He was quiet while the bath filled up, exhaustion dripping off him through sweat and the odd shiver. Once the warm water covered his chest, you turned off the faucet, sitting cross-legged next to the tub.

            “Hey,” you brushed a sweaty lock of hair from his eyes, “how are you?”

            “I think it’s stopped,” he said, leaning into your touch.

            You nodded. The eggs had turned grey not long ago, then began shriveling up. You assumed they were connected to their host, whatever Tyler had killed, and were destroyed along with it; shrinking from the size of a small hen egg to a shriveled mass the size of a pea. You were relieved, though not as much as Mark—and Mark’s poor hole—must be. You continued petting his hair, smiling when he sunk further into the water, turning his head slightly to kiss your palm.

            Still, something itched in the back of your mind. Tyler had known that thing, had recognized it by scent alone. Additionally, he’d let Mark be abducted by whatever it was. You’d have to talk with him. You’d have to punish him.

Chapter Text

Mark slept like a calf, curled on his side, laying on the floor next to your bed. Buzzer had sniffed him excitedly, glad to share his bed with your boyfriend. Your own was too small for the two of you, and you busied yourself with thoughts of upgrading to a larger mattress while you got ready for bed. He was snoring softly by the time you’d brushed your teeth.

            You dimmed the lights, holding a pillow to your chest while you watched his own rise and fall. He looked sweet, peaceful, even; the kind of peace someone could spend a lifetime trying to capture on canvas. Your mind drifted to the box of acrylics buried in your closet. That could be a nice way to spend an afternoon, after your morning chores were done.

            It was easy, after that, to let your eyes fall shut and dreams overtake your thoughts.

            A few hundred feet away, Tyler was burying a body. His hooves, drenched in blood and sweat, shone with an unnatural glow; making the surrounding woods seem far eerier than they had any right to be. He huffed with every draw, slicing the earth open with his shovel; only pausing to kick the mangled corpse into the too-deep hole. His brow furrowed at the sight, weary eyes scrutinizing every inch, every detail, searching for any sign the thing was still alive.

            He gripped his shovel tighter, seemingly satisfied with what he didn’t see. Swiping a hand over his damp forehead, he began scooping again, making sure to cover the beggars grave with dead grass once he was finished.

            Mark was still sleeping when you woke up the next morning. You let him rest, figuring he needed as much as he could get. Besides, you had…plans...for the day. Plans that didn’t involve your boyfriend, at least not this time.

            Geordy was bustling around the kitchen when you came down, pausing to push a fresh cup of coffee into your hands.

            “Mark doing well?” he asked.

            “Still sleeping,”

            Geordy huffed, his mustache perking into a slight smile.

            “Wore him out, then?”

            The coffee nearly slipped from your hands, your pulse jumping.

            “Geordy—”

            He laughed again, patting your head fondly before leaving the little house. You stood, stunned for a moment, before clapping a hand over your mouth, muffling your breathless laughter. Biting your lip, you stuck some bread into the toaster. You and Geordy rarely joked around like that, but Mark had already changed so much around the farm. You weren’t really surprised.

            The weather was warming up, the transition from spring to summer finally reaching your little farm. Mark stood outside the barn, breathing in the clean, fresh air. He smiled at Amy, trying to mask how tired he really was. He could tell she wasn’t buying it, but he still wanted to be polite.

Mark was woken that morning by a message from Amy, asking for help with a school group coming to tour the farm later that day. He’d agreed, albeit blearily, and now watched as Ethan leaned against the gate, chewing absentmindedly on a piece of hay. His eyes were distant, staring into space. Mark could only assume he was thinking about something else.

            “Mark,” Amy drew his attention, “have you done one of these before?”

            “Uhhh,” he tilted his head, squinting slightly, “no?”

            She nodded, clearly hoping for a different answer.

            “Great, Ethan’ll show you the ropes, then,”

            Hearing his name, Ethan turned towards the two of them.

            “Huh?” he asked, his voice pitching.

            Amy waved him off.

            “It’s not hard, just keep the kids entertained, answer questions, don’t be weird,” she glanced at Ethan on the last one, before leaning forwards to unlock the gate. “I’ll go ahead and wait by the house, you two stay back here and wait for my signal,”

            Ethan nodded, making a face at her behind her back.

            “She’s so uppity about it,” he complained, “kids love me,”

            Mark didn’t doubt that, but he knew from word of mouth that Ethan had a bit of a…reputation, towards outsiders. He patted Ethan’s shoulder, deigning to sit down and get some rest while he still could.

            Moving haybales was significantly easier with the addition of tractors, but Tyler still offered to help out every time. Part of you thought he just liked showing off his strength, which you and Amy teased him relentlessly for, but you knew the real reason was probably Geordy.

            The two of them had been talking the whole time, their laughter easily audible from your spot in the loft.

            “Ready, y/n?” Tyler called, holding a bundle of hay under each arm. You nodded, bracing yourself.

            It was easier to use tractors, but you had to admit…a seven-foot-six bull was pretty handy as well. You barely had to guide the hay as he tossed it up to you, his aim rarely missing.

            “you kids got this?” Geordy called from behind the tractor wheel. You gave a thumbs up, and he nodded. “Gonna go get the rest, then,” the tractor backed out of the barn, leaving you and Tyler alone.

            “Psst,” you hissed, crouching and laying on your stomach, letting your arms and head dangle over the side of the loft. Tyler was almost tall enough to look you in the eye, a fact which made you frown slightly.

            “Hm?” he stepped closer, his eyelids drooping slightly, “what, now that Geordy’s gone, you think we can…” he trailed off, resting his hands on his hips.

            “Fuck off,” you said, not meaning a word of it, “meet me later? I need to talk to you about something,”

            “Something?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

            “About what happened last night,” you clarified, ignoring his blatant passes, “and about Mark,”

            Tyler cleared his throat, stepping back a little.

            “Ah,” he avoided your eyes, “I see,” he smiled, meeting your gaze again, “sure, after the school group leaves?”

            “Sounds good,” further conversation was cut off by the loud rumble of tractor wheels. Geordy had returned with more hay, and Tyler had returned to his easygoing disposition. You smiled to yourself. He didn’t suspect a thing.

            Apparently, “showing the ropes” meant something different to Ethan, who’d left Mark’s side the second the chaperones entered the barn. Mark watched as he leaned easily into one of the younger teacher’s space, playing with the line between sweet and confident. Mark’s soft nose wrinkled. He missed you already.

            One of the children tugged at Mark’s poncho, thankfully ignorant of whatever scandal Ethan was trying to cause.

            “Um, uh,” the kid bounced slightly on the balls of his feet, “um, can we go into the stables?”

            “Uh,” Mark wracked his brain for any parting wisdom Amy might have left and came up dry, “I don’t see why not?”

            This was, to the kid at least, the correct answer, earning Mark a bright smile and an excited parting tug on his poncho.

            He watched the kid run off to his group, his little legs almost tripping over a stray pail. Mark felt himself soften. For a moment, he wondered if you were good with kids, too.

            “So, what’s this about?” Tyler’s voice was hardly the first indicator that he’d entered, but it was certainly the most significant one. Soft confidence underlaid with worry; he thought he’d upset you, the dear thing.

            “Mark was abducted,” you started, looking up at him, keeping your arms behind your back, “when you were supposed to be watching him.” You watched him carefully for a reaction. He seemed to shrink under your words, avoiding your eyes.

            “I know, it was my fault, and I—”

            “Ty,” you cut him off, your voice softening with your expression. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to punish you,”

            He paused, eyebrows furrowing.

            “you’re asking to punish me?”

            “The way I want to punish you requires permission,” your hands fidgeted with the object behind your back. Understanding dawned on him, followed by a deep blush.

            “Ah,” he said, shuffling on his hooves. “that’s, uh,” he laughed nervously, “yeah that’s, you can do that. To me.”

            You realized with delight that he was flustered, and beyond that, relieved.

            “Good,” you bit your lip before you could add ‘boy’ to that, walking closer to him instead. “If you want me to stop—”

            “If I want you to stop, I’ll stop you,” he said, honest confidence leeching back into his voice.

            You smiled before dropping your expression into something colder.

            “Well then, I guess we can begin,”

Tyler’s throat bobbed as he watched you, his eyes flashing slightly when you revealed what you’d been hiding behind your back. The thick leather of the riding crop slapped lightly at the palm of your hand. Your lips tried to quirk at his breathless expression, but you held them still. You had a role to play.

            “Knees,” you said, the undercurrents of your voice daring him to disobey.

            He swallowed again, this time clearing his throat as well.

            “Or what? You gonna whip me?” he tried for a cocky smile, pulling it off save for the slight tremble of his lips.

            You let out a breath, fixing him with your most unimpressed glare.

            “Cute,” you said, not meaning a syllable of it. You slapped the crop against your palm once more before arcing it through the air. The sharp whistle startled Tyler, making him flinch back.

            “I don’t have all day, Tyler,” you drawled, stepping closer to him until you could loop a finger through the ring of his harness. “And neither do you,” you wrapped a hand around the leather, yanking him down to your level, “it’s in your best interests…to behave,” your voice dropped into a gravel, breath fanning over his mouth.

            He said nothing, watching you with a mix of lust and nervous amusement.

            “So,” you said, stepping back, returning to holding the crop, “like I said,” you smiled, all sharp edges and ice, letting your words take on a growl, “knees,”

            “Wait, please, no—” Mark was cut off by a shriek. He dropped the kid who was trying to pull on his ears and turned towards the sound, unable to muster a sigh when he saw one of the children grabbing for the hose. “Ethan?” he called; his voice clipped.

            Ethan glanced at him, giving him a thumbs up before turning back to the pretty teacher he was talking to. She giggled at something he said, one of her fingers absentmindedly playing with the bell around his neck. Mark felt the last dregs of hope drain from his soul.

            He’d messaged Amy when things started taking a turn for the chaotic, and she’d responded that she was on her way. Still, the farm was large, and she could only walk so fast. He massaged his temples, the long night and long morning making their toll known in the form of a steadily growing ache behind his eyes. He shut his eyes to the oncoming dizzy spell, steadying himself on the side of the barn.

            To their credit, not all of the chaperones were charmed by Ethan. Mark’s saving grace was brought by another teacher coaxing the child away from the hose, announcing in a somewhat strangled tone that it was snack time. Mark saw Ethan mutter something to his new ‘friend,’ making her giggle. Mark couldn’t find the energy to react, slumping back against the wooden siding and sliding down. Amy chose that time to appear, hurrying breathlessly through the gate. Her brows furrowed in concern when she saw the state he was in, but she was quickly intercepted by one of the chaperones.

            Mark’s eyes fell shut, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. There was a burning in the pit of his stomach, almost like acid reflux, and he let the force of his sudden revulsion propel his head back. He was out moments later, unconsciousness sweeping through him with little more than a wheeze.

            Tyler’s hair was soft in your grip, his little curls flipping over your fingers. His face, pained when you pulled, pleading when you didn’t, was damp with sweat.

            “Please,” he gasped, his arms straining against the rope you’d bound them with, “please, I’m sor—”

            “No,” you said, taking pleasure in the way he seemed to visibly break in front of you, “I decide when you’re sorry,” his head dropped when you released his hair, his body heaving with every breath.

            Using the end of your crop, you tilted his chin up. His eyes watered, lips trembling when you moved the leather to his cheek.

            “Please,” he breathed, earning a slap to his cheek. It wasn’t a harsh act, but his head snapped to the side anyway. He was playing along, you realized. Tamping down a smile, you reached for his face, stroking the red mark with your thumb.

“You let a member of your herd be taken, knocked out, bred ,” your nails dug into the skin of his cheeks, “all while you were distracted,”

He whimpered, closing his eyes. a single tear slipped down his face, barely indistinguishable from a bead of sweat.

            “Aww,” you mocked, “I bet you’re just torn up about it,” you sneered, dropping your hand and circling around him. “Maybe if you knew how it felt, then you’d be sorry,”

            His shoulders tensed. Dropping the act for a moment, you stepped into his field of vision.

            “Can I fuck you, Ty?”

            He weighed his options before nodding, shifting slightly.

            “Yes, I’d—you can,” he flushed again, avoiding your eyes. You smiled, ruffling his hair gently before moving back behind him. When you spoke again your voice was cold.

            “Ass up, I don’t have all day,”

            The position Tyler ended up in was unnatural to him, but stable. His front legs were folded beneath him, his torso low to the ground and propped up by his unbound arms. His ass was, in fact, up, and his hind legs standing and spread to accommodate you.

            You ran the crop up and down his spine, enjoying the sight of him shivering beneath you. Lube was easier to apply when wearing gloves, and before long you were tracing his rim. You rubbed his flank with your other hand, doing your best to relax him before sliding your first knuckle in. Tyler’s breath hitched before releasing as a sigh.

            “Okay?” you asked, sinking in a bit deeper.

            “Mhm,” he nodded before dropping his forehead to the ground, sighing again when you began to lightly fuck him with your finger. He wasn’t difficult to open up, and before long you were three fingers deep.

            “That’s it,” you cooed, prodding inside him for a moment, running the crop over his side, “beg for it,”

            “Fuck, please,” he gasped, his body tensing when you found his prostate. A punched-out groan left his lips, spurring you to target that spot with every slick push of your fingers.

            Lube dribbled from his hole, creating wet noises between you. He groaned when you pulled your fingers out, and again when you unzipped your pants. Pulling off your gloves, you lubed up your dick, stepping onto the pallet you’d positioned behind him. From this height, you were able to rest your hands on his flank, guiding your cock to its destination.

            You’d all but dropped the act by this point, the two of you groaning in unison when you pushed in. Still, you whipped him lightly when he tried to push back.

            “y/n,” he gasped, his hands grabbing at his hair and pulling.

            You rested your forehead against his back for a moment, breathing him in. When you bottomed out, you felt his reaction in your skull. A long, heavy low escaped his lips, followed by an equally heavy whine.

            “Shh,” you soothed, trying to keep your own voice even. Another gulp of air was enough to clear your head, and you started moving.

            Tyler whined again, this time cutting himself off with a choked, “fuck,”

            Lube pooled around your cock, adding a squelching symphony to your heavy pants. You knew the moment you found the right angle, because his whole body lurched forwards, clawing at the hay beneath you. His spine arched, ass pushing back and seeking the hoof-curling feeling.

            You held his hips still as best you could, pulling him onto your dick every time you pushed in, hitting his prostate more often than not. You couldn’t tell where your moans ended and his lows began, quickly getting caught up in the rhythm you two made. You geared up for a long night, remembering Tyler’s stamina, only to be nearly thrown off-balance when he lurched forwards again, his hole clenching and releasing around your cock as he came.

            “Ty?” you asked, concern edging your voice. He responded with a whiny low, breathing heavily. He objected when you pulled out, but didn’t move from his fucked-out position. “Ty, talk to me, buddy,”

            “Buddy,” he snorted, “your dick was in my ass, I think we’re beyond buddy,”

            You huffed, nudging his head with your boot.

            “How are you?” you crouched beside him, sitting down cross-legged when he stayed put.

            “Good,” he leaned his head towards your lap, and you gently scratched the place where his horns met his skull. “didn’t think I’d like it as much as I did,”

            You hummed, wiping the dust and sweat from his cheeks. Bending down, you kissed the crown of his head, rubbing the tips of his soft ears. He leaned into your touch, sighing when your other hand began to card through his hair.

            “c’mon,” you said, pulling back softly, “let’s get you cleaned up,”

Chapter Text

You paced back and forth, the dirt from your nails leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. The screen door creaked, banging against the wall when it opened. Geordy was waiting on the other side. You brushed past him, nervous energy threatening to bubble up as bile. When you saw him—Mark—sitting easily on the couch, you somehow felt sicker. Sickness showed itself differently, and that knowledge had you glancing towards the kitchen sink, wondering if you’d make it in time to spit up whatever was clogging up your throat.

            “y/n,” Mark said, soft as ever. You could only watch as he beckoned you closer, your feet moving when your brain would not.

            “You—you,” you stuttered reaching for his face. He leaned into your touch, nuzzling your fingertips. It made tears spring to your eyes. How could he be so sweet when, when—“they couldn’t wake you up, you wouldn’t wake up and they—” sobs began to wrack your chest, the lump in your throat suddenly making sense.

            Mark held your hands in his, kissing your palms. You only cried harder, stepping forward and wrapping him in a hug, pressing his face into your chest.

            “It’s okay,” he assured, rubbing your lower back.

            “Mark,” your voice was small and shaky, a manifestation of every paced step and bitten nail.

            He shushed you, rubbing your back as if soothing a scared cat. You let him pull you down when your legs began to sway, landing in his lap. You buried your face in his neck. Time passed in sobs and hummed lullabies, and by the time Mark had started “Mary had a little lamb” you had calmed down enough to speak.

            “What happened?” you asked, pulling back only far enough to look him in the eyes.

            “I was tired,” he shrugged, “my body needed more rest than I’d given it, that’s all,” you didn’t believe him, and he knew that, but you both silently agreed to shelve that conversation for later.

            Instead, you nodded. Your breathing was hindered by the snot in your nose, but you managed to take a deep breath through your mouth.

            “Get some rest, then,” you said, kissing his hairline. His grip reluctantly loosened, letting you stand up. With one more parting forehead kiss, you left him on the couch, closing the screen door behind you.

            You sighed, pressing your back to the door. You gave yourself a moment to steady yourself, holding the tears at bay, before turning to Geordy.

            “what’s the verdict?” you asked, tension growing in your chest.

            Geordy huffed, his eyebrows jumping slightly.

            “how’s Tyler holdin’ up?” he said, crossing his arms. Time seemed to stutter for a moment, keeping time with your heart.

            “You don’t mean…?” your eyebrows furrowed, anxiety dripping into a different kind of tension as you pieced it together.

            Geordy shrugged.

            “that’s my theory, the doc’ll be in later to check him over,” his mustache wrinkled slightly, “lookin’ like our farm wasn’t the only one that thing hit last night,”

            “You don’t think,” you started, brain doing barrel rolls trying to make sense of everything, “you don’t think that jumpstarted it, do you? Is that even possible?”

            “Surprisingly, I don’t have much experience with cow-snatchin’ aliens,” Geordy said, “still, seems likely,”

            He said something else after that, maybe “see ya,” seeing as he walked off after, but you didn’t hear it. The exhaustion, the affection, the way Mark had clung to you when you stood up. It all seemed to point to one conclusion. Still, could that really be it?

Could Mark really be… going into heat?

            Tyler blew a heavy breath from his nostrils, his thumbs hooking in the loops of his harness.

“Looks like I’m cashing in on my side of the deal early, then,” his voice was light, obviously trying to ease some of your worry.

            You hummed, looking away. Ty’s expression sobered.

            “Hey,” he bent a little, chasing your gaze, “I’ll take good care of him,”

            “I know that,” you said, picking at your fingers, “I’m just…it’s so soon, what if there’s complications because of the egg thing? What if he gets hurt or—or something changes—”

            “y/n,” Ty cut you off, breaking your spiral, “I won’t let that happen, okay? The doctor’s gonna check him over. I’ll talk to her, get her opinion, and if I have to mate him, I’ll be gentle,”

            You knew that too, knew it like the back of your hand, but it did nothing to ease the weight on your shoulders. Tyler noticed, sighing.

            “Do you wanna sit in with us? So you can keep an eye on him?”

            You shook your head.

            “If I’m there he’ll try to get to me, I don’t want to mess anything up,” you were adamant in decision, having made it quietly not long after your agreement started. Still, the idea of keeping watch over Mark didn’t seem so bad.

            “You should get back to him,” Tyler said, reading your thoughts.

            You took a deep breath, nodding. You didn’t move, though, feet staying planted where they were. Tyler sighed again, this time fondly. He rested a hand on your shoulder.

            “Why don’t you talk it over with Mark, hm?” he gave you a little push towards the house, “I’m sure he’s got something to say about it,”

            Your little stumble back turned into steps, first backwards, then facing your house. Your gait stayed stunted, but it was enough.

            Mark was napping when you checked on him, Geordy and the doctor talking in hushed voices in the hall. Snippets carried through the small house, growing clearer the closer you got.

            “—not a problem as long as—”

            “—what I wanna know is—”

            “—nothing that can’t be solved by—”

            “Uh,” you stood at the end of the hall, hands resting at your sides, “hey,” you sounded so awkward, ugh, cringe.

            “Kid,” Geordy greeted, “c’mere, the doc has news,”

            “Oh, yes,” the doctor, a petite woman, nodded, launching into an explanation she must’ve given no less than ten times today. “Mark is perfectly healthy, there shouldn’t be any lasting damage from the oviposition,”

            You couldn’t help but sigh in relief, shoulders dropping slightly.

            “He estrus cycle has begun earlier than normal, but that shouldn’t cause any complications as long as you have a healthy bull standing by, which I understand you do,”

            “Tyler,” you added, unsure why your brain deemed it important except that she was a doctor and you wanted to help. She nodded, smiling lightly.

            “Tyler, thank you,” she glanced over at Geordy briefly, bringing him into the conversation with ease, “as I was saying when you arrived, there shouldn’t be any complications on Mark’s end, however, given the extraterrestrial nature of this circumstance, I can’t guess as to what effect mating will have on your—on Tyler,”

            “But Mark will be fine?” you pressed, needing to hear it again.

            “Yes,” the doctor smiled again, “he’s perfectly healthy, any risk to his person is unlikely,”

            You let your shoulders sag fully, relief evident in every facet of your body. Geordy pulled the doctor aside, likely to discuss precautions Tyler would have to take when mating Mark. Just like earlier, you paid it no mind, pushing off the wall to hunt down your boyfriend.

            He was still sleeping soundly when you found him, his arms curled up against his chest, hands tucked under his head. One floppy ear covered his eyes, acting as a curtain to the setting sun. A peaceful smile relaxed his face. It made him seem younger, and you found yourself mirroring it. You bent down, running a light hand through his hair, careful not to disturb his ear. He shifted slightly when you kissed his cheek, a small whine twisting his smile into something needier. You felt your heart skip.

            It hadn’t sunk in fully, that he was in heat. The tension in your shoulders built up again, fiery and distracting rather than anxious. You forced your shoulders down. You would have time for fun later. Right now, Mark needed to sleep.

Chapter Text

“y/n,” Mark gasped, writhing in the hay of his stall. His horns dug into the earth below, scraping up dust and tamped down grass. His vision blurred before rolling back into darkness. Intermittent shudders wracked his body, making him gasp and moan. His next words were feeble and pathetic, a small, “please,” whimpered into the quiet of the barn.

Well, the almost quiet. A few stalls down, Ethan was biting his knuckles, doing his damndest to muffle his groans. It wasn’t fair. Mark could be loud, Mark could be needy, Mark could get attention whenever he wanted. What made him so special? What did he have that Ethan didn’t?

The answer was obvious. Mark had your affection. But even that was a threadbare mat against a snowstorm. After all, Ethan had been close to you too, once. Sure, it had been a few years since you’d really hung out, but he’d known you since childhood! If anyone deserved to be whining your name, it sure as hell wasn’t Mark.

Not that Ethan even wanted you that way, he just wanted Mark not to.

It was a pathetic type of jealousy, the kind that made him cringe at himself, annoyed that he would stoop so low. Still, he did nothing to stop his bony fingers from unlocking his stall, clopping towards Mark’s. His head felt clouded, full of cotton and need and desire. Mark’s whines grew louder, the pit in Ethan’s gut growing with them.

He barely had to touch Mark when he reached him, the man practically presenting himself to Ethan. Ethan swallowed, kneeling next to him. He took Mark’s hand in his own, looking into his heavy, black eyes. He knew what he had to do.

You scrubbed your face raw in the mirror, eyes open to the blurry, stinging reflection of your own tired face. You spit stray face wash into the sink, splashing warm water out of the bowl in the world’s worst excuse of a Neutrogena ad. You felt nothing.

There was a numbness to your internal monologue as you got ready for bed. Pulling off your shirt, ‘he could die,’ toeing off your socks, ‘he could calve,’ strapping on your wrist braces, ‘it wouldn’t be mine.’ That thought was unexpected, but not enough to shake you out of your stupor. It was the kind of thought that you’d reflect on later down the line and wonder why you never examined it until then, but for now, the only thought you cared about was the one telling you to sleep.

You didn’t bury yourself in your blankets as much as you let them consume you, and within minutes you were dead to the world; lost again to the blankets of your torpid mind.

*bzzt*

*bzzt*

*bzzt*

Your eyelids peeled open, squinting at the SMS messenger on you bedside table. You mentally cursed whoever was on the other side, before realizing belatedly that it could be Mark. That thought alone is what moved your arm from beneath the covers.

“hello?” your voice could’ve slain dragons, and the voice on the other end made you want to.

“y/n?” Ethan sounded like he was straining, “it’s Mark, he’s-”

You didn’t give him the opportunity to finish that sentence before you hung up the call. Rolling out of bed, you jammed your feet into a pair of old flip flops and made your way to the kitchen door. ‘mark,’ was more than enough information. Anything else would only annoy you.

Mark was heaving, his breaths growing raspier and more worrying by the second. Ethan grasped his hand tightly, that one point of contact seeming to be the only thing keeping Mark somewhat stable. Ethan had seen cows in heat before, but never so far along as Mark is. Tyler usually takes care of it before it gets to this point, but Ethan suspected that Mark’s heat was different.

:Mark?” y/n burst into the room, running and sliding on their knees to get to Mark quicker. “Mark? Talk to me, hon,”

Mark heaved, arching his back. The low he let out was so desperate that it made Ethan blush.

“y/n,” he moaned, gasping when y/n placed their hands on his shoulders. That small touch sent him shuddering, and Ethan was becoming uncomfortably aware of how wet his friend was.

               He’d noticed it some, but that was hardly anything to pause at. Mark was in heat, after all. Now, though, was definitely giving Ethan some pause. He could hear it, the slick sound of Mark’s thighs rubbing together followed by the sticky sound of them parting. Ethan didn’t need to look down to know there were little webs of slick hanging between Mark’s legs. Ethan swallowed. That old jealousy was licking flames in his stomach.

Y/n didn’t pay Ethan much mind, devoted heart and mind to the man before them.

Mark’s hair clung in sweaty strands to his face, spider-webbing over his neck where his pulse jumped. You sat, frozen for a minute.

"T-Tyler, call Ty-"

"Already did, he's on his way, but..."

"But??"

"Mark's not the only cow in heat, he's moving as fast as he can, but-"

"Shit," you tuned Ethan out, the action being second nature to you. Of course. Of course Mark wasn't the only one. Still, he was the most urgent case, Tyler should know that, Tyler should-

"Y/n," Mark's hands clawed at your night shirt, yanking you closer. He panted, eyes wide and dark and watery and so, so desperate.

"Can't you do something about this?" Ethan's panicked-pitched voice squeaked behind you.

"How? I'm not a bull, I can't-"

"You have a dick, don't you?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Then use it! At least until Ty gets here,"

"I-" you thought about it, thought about what it would mean. You'd dreamed about this moment, of this exact scenario. As painful as it seemed, Mark was a vision when he was in heat, a vision that had the chance to be your reality.

Chapter Text

               Heat, warm and sticky spread down Mark’s spine. He felt like he was seconds from climax, his whole body pulled taught except for where you were touching him. Your hands left his back, pushing on his shoulders gently. It felt like a tidal wave to him. He’d do anything to keep your touch.

               Every tap of your skin to his felt like another push, another bolt of euphoria rushing straight to his leaking udder.

               “y/n,” He gasped, throat parched. He loved the way his voice sounded, scratchy and high. He knew what it did to you, how hot he sounded, how desperately he was making you want him. He played it up, his next low ending in a breathy whine, a tear slipping down his flushed cheeks. He watched you swallow, another curl of satisfaction sliding through him.

               Your hands shook when they touched his chest, and he arched into them. Your fingers brushed over his nipples, tweaking them when Mark bit his lip. His head dropped onto the blankets, his horns scraping up dirt when he lowed. You felt so good on top of him.

               Mark’s head fell back, a heart-wrending low wracking through his flushed body.

               “I’ll-I’ll give you two some privacy,” Ethan squeaked, his hooves scrambling into the distance.

               You didn’t bother to answer. Instead, your hands traveled lower, bypassing your lover’s udders completely and finding his hole instead. He opened up easily, his body pliant and wanting under your touch. He seemed to black out for a moment, spine arching before collapsing into the dirt. Slick gushed around your thumb, and it took you a moment to understand what just happened.

               Christ.

               The high lasted a few precious seconds before Mark was grinding desperately onto your finger, begging you in broken sentences to move faster. You complied, using the familiar thrusting motion to ground yourself, breathing for the first time since you picked up Ethan’s call.

               “Baby,” you said, rubbing his thigh with your other hand. He relaxed instantly into your touch, his legs opening wider to accommodate you.

               “y/n,” he sighed, eyes blinking open and gazing dazedly into yours, “I’m glad it’s you,”

“Mark,” you ran out of words. There was nothing you could say to that, and nothing that he would understand in his state. Instead, you moved your wrist faster, aiming for his prostate, hoping that he would hear what you didn’t know how to say.

He was wet enough you didn’t need to prep him much, and you were hard enough you didn’t think you could wait even if you did. Mark cried when you pulled out, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, pooling in the corners of his lips. He opened his mouth to beg, the tears falling onto his tongue when he gasped instead. You didn’t think you were big enough to satisfy him, but his reaction had you reconsidering.

More tears bubbled from his eyes, even as they rolled back into his head. You had to support his upper half to keep him from arching away, leaving the two of you in the perfect replica of a lovers’ embrace.

You tried to breath but he wouldn’t let you. His arms scrambled around your shoulders, using the leverage to ram himself impossibly further onto your dick, tossing his head back at the minute friction it achieved. You swallowed your air instead, leaning over him and spreading his thighs.

Once you started moving, everything went blurry. His hole seemed to suck you in, keeping you from pulling out too far. You were forced to fuck him harder, push into him until your hips were knocking together, only to pull out an inch and do it all over again. Mark didn’t seem to understand, begging – no – demanding you move faster. You grunted, digging your knees into the dirt and folding him in half. You didn’t have a bull’s stamina, but you were no stranger to exerting yourself, and right now, Mark needed more.

Your fallacies quickly became known, however. Around Mark’s third orgasm, his muscles started to give out, his body falling limp beneath you. You hoisted his hips up, but he was deadweight in your hands. You were forced to take a break, much to his dismay, leaving the both of you panting and on the edge.

“y/n,” he whimpered, turning away when you brushed damp hair off his forehead. Your chest hurt. This was exactly what you were afraid of.

Heavy hoof-falls sounded on the gravel outside, something like relief or frustration blooming over the ache. You didn’t look at Tyler when he slid open the heavy barn doors, you couldn’t. He didn’t pause once, approaching with all the swagger and confidence of someone who earned it.

“Thanks for keeping the bed warm,” he joked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to even acknowledge him. You felt a piece of your heart flake off when he kneeled down, turning Mark over like it was nothing.

You didn’t stick around after that, couldn’t bear to hear Mark whimper another lover’s name. You wanted so badly not to be jealous, but it was out of your control. Your limbs were heavy from exhaustion and so much else by the time you reached the house. You knew you woke Geordy when you slammed the door but couldn’t find it in you to care.

Not when your boyfriend was being bred by someone else.

Not when you weren’t enough.

Chapter Text

You slept in. Geordy, in a rare moment of understanding, passed your room quietly that morning, leaving you victim to the warmth of your bed and the ice in your heart. Wakefulness came in ebbing waves, each flutter of eyelashes batting away consciousness. Eventually, though, you were forced awake by your stomach protesting the cruel treatment. You satisfied it with one of the clif bars you kept on your bedside table.

               It was there, tangled in sheets, swallowing hunks of peanut butter down a dry throat, that last night came trickling back to you.

               Mark, Ty, God. You wonder if Ty stayed with him through the night. If you checked the barn, would he still be there? Would they even be finished?

               You knew better. A hybrid’s heat was a days long affair, and one as intense as Mark’s promised to be even longer. Which begged the question, how long were you expected to wait? How long could you sit idly by while the one you loved was in agony, an agony that you could do nothing to help?

               You couldn’t, you wouldn’t, and no one could possibly expect you to.

               You made up your mind. You breezed through whatever chores were left, shooting a text to Amy, and leaving a note on the table for Geordy to find. Grabbing a spare duffel and the keys to the old truck, you shifted into reverse, engine grumbling down the dirt road until the farm was a distant blip on the horizon.

               You pulled into the first motel that offered clean sheets, checking in with cash and passing out on the flattest mattress you’d ever slept on. The sun pierced through the ratty sheets before you were ready to wake up, leaving you worse off in mood then you were when you’d fallen asleep. Yawning, you scrolled through your texts. Surprisingly, there were only two.

               One from Amy – a simple thumbs up emoji – and one from Geordy.

               Hey kid, wired some $ to your account. Call me.

               You weren’t going to call him. Still, you appreciated the gesture.

               Finding food was easy, there were no shortage of shitty diners and local breweries to crash at. You were half-way through a short stack of pancakes when you felt something tickle the back of your neck. You angled your knife, glancing in the sticky reflection to catch whatever was behind you.

Nothing.

               You sniffed. Must be getting paranoid. You were never much of a city kid, always made you nervous. You returned to your food, swallowing the rest of your coffee and ordering another to go. By the time it was finished brewing, you’d be done.

               The air was surprisingly clear when you stepped outside, though you supposed you weren’t so much in a city as a small town. The occasional truck scratched by, pumping clouds of dense smoke into your nose. More surprisingly, it didn’t bother you.

               You’d sat down on an empty bench when you felt it again, something tickling the hair on your neck. You didn’t bother with subtlety this time, turning your head and scanning behind you.

               Nothing. You huffed.

               “My apologies,” a voice crackled, whipping your attention forwards and up. A man had materialized before you, dark suit barely wrinkled despite the wind. “I seem to have lost my touch,” his voice was rich in ways you couldn’t describe, curling up your spine and tightening in your chest, “either that, or you’re especially perceptive.”

               “pardon?” you blinked, suddenly at a loss for words.

               “sorry, I seem to have forgotten my manners,” he held out a hand, fingertips painted black to match the eerie gradient that snaked down his hands.

Something pulled you in, pulled your hands to his. The man’s hands were cold. It felt like touching sin itself.

The man smiled, wide and toothy. “You can call me Damien,”

               “Damien?” you repeated, “bit on the nose, huh?”

               “What do you mean?”

               “Y’know,” you scooted over on the bench, offering Damien a seat. He gladly accepted, “Damien, the devil,” you glanced him up and down, “seems like you’ve got a specific look you’re going for, ‘s all,”

               Damien shrugged good-naturedly.

               “Chalk it up to coincidence. Anyways,” he eyed you hungrily, “I’ve not seen you around before,”

               “Yeah?” you leaned back, stretching your arms across the back of the bench, “I think I fit in a bit more than you do, Damien,”

               He smiled.

               “Fitting in isn’t exactly my priority,”

               “Then what is?”

               “Right now, I’d say I’m focused on getting back to whatever dingy motel you’ve shacked up in,”

               You scoffed incredulously, “and what makes you think I’m going anywhere with you?”

               “It’s about to rain, isn’t it?” he smiled again, so unpleasantly thin that you wanted to rest your thumbs on his lower lip and tug.

               “Is it?” you didn’t smell any rain.

               Damien stood up, stretching his back before pulling a travel umbrella from his pocket. No sooner had he unfurled the thing and held it above your head than the skies opened up, pouring rain onto Damien and rolling off the umbrella.

               “How did you – ?” you pressed yourself against the bench, avoiding proximity to the man as much as you could. He smiled again.

               “Coincidence,” he repeated, holding out his hand once more, “so, your place?”

               Looking back, you don’t know why you took his hand. You could blame fear or nerves, you could even chalk it up to your broken mental state or misplaced desire. None of those were accurate, though. There was no reason, no one factor that made you grab his hand. You simply did, holding onto his cold, blackened digits like a lifeline.

               You don’t remember taking him back to the motel, either. You don’t remember anything but his dark, blue-black eyes, and the tingle that ran down your spine when they were focused on you.

Chapter Text

Damien's lips were cold on your skin, but you didn't mind warming them up. The pit in your stomach got lighter with each ice-cold press, your hands reaching up to weave through his hair. He was going grey at the temples, a stark reminder of age that you'd never found attractive before, but couldn't seem to get enough of now.

It wasn't just the hair, the way he carried himself, the way he spoke. He reminded you of your grandfather, back when you still had one of those.

God, you must be desperate if even thoughts of creaky old men weren't enough to turn you off.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Damien purred, nipping your ear as his dark hands ran over your waist. Your plaid shirt was off, laying dramatically across the motel floor much in the same way Damien was draped over your body.

"Sure," you said, kissing him head on. You were enjoying yourself, you were. But, you also knew exactly what you were doing. You knew exactly what would happen once it ended.

Unbidden, Mark's visage entered your mind, his big, black doe eyes watery with pleasure. Damien's next touch felt like a blade as it sliced down your stomach, reaching for your belt.

"Stop," you heard yourself say. Your body pulling away as if on instinct, "I'm sorry, there's-"

"Someone else?" Damien finished, smirk playing on his black-lined lips, "there always is," he sighed, leaning away from you.

"I should go,"

"It's your room, if anything, I should-"

You cut him off.

"No, I-I need to leave,"

Damien nodded like he understood. In the time it took you to pick up your shirt, he slipped quietly from the room. You never even heard the door close, but when you checked the handle, it was locked tight.

---

The road home was bumpy with potholes and rocks, and the smell of manure got stronger the closer you got. It wasn't until you saw the tip of the silo that you felt the weight in your gut release. Your shoulders dropped, exhaustion piercing your limbs. The purpose that carried you back subsided, replaced by a dizzying swirl behind your eyes. You pulled into the muddy drive, hitting more than a couple garden bed rocks. The vague nausea that had plagued you since you left Damien behind was gone now, replaced with a hazy sense of purpose.

Well, it was now, or never.

---

Geordy only glanced at you when you walked in the door. You couldn’t meet his eyes, not only due to shame, but also because the red sting of your own made any slight change in eyeline difficult. You knew he’d be giving you space, you hadn’t run off since you first showed up on his front porch.

Of course, back then, it wasn’t Geordy you were running from.

He cleared his throat, forcing your tired eyes to blink and look at him.

“He’s doing well, been sleeping all morning.”

Morning? Huh. You looked outside, momentarily stunned to find the sun a third of the way through its daily journey.

“Oh,” you said, taking in the rest of Geordy’s sentence.

“Get some rest, kid,” Geordy took a sip of his coffee.

Your legs, tired as they were, refused to walk up the short staircase leading to your room. Geordy sighed, smiling into his mug.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ve already got the couch set up for ya,”

You felt a hot sting swell in your eyes, burning like fire. You managed to pass off the hitch in your voice as a wince, stumbling past the man that practically raised you. Crashing into the hard springs of the couch, you stretched your aching legs, taking a deep breath into the old blankets set out for you. You could hear Geordy humming softly as he washed his mug in the sink. You relaxed into the familiar cushions, mind already drifting into a warm abyss. Still, one final thought floated past.

Geordy, for all his gruff exterior, never could turn down a stray, let alone a stray that no one else wanted.

You smiled. Maybe that’s why Ethan was still being kept around.