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Ever since the Beloved husbands let their son, Michael, meet their friend, Tommy, it had been difficult prying the little piglin away from the blond. Michael threw fits whenever Tommy had to leave, shaking his fathers' shoulders, insisting Tommy was his mother and that he couldn't leave them. Tommy could only awkwardly shrug when they turn to look at him desperately, silently begging him to stay so Michael wouldn't be upset, but unfortunately, Tommy's son, Shroud, hated the Beloved family for unknown reasons and Tommy couldn't leave Shroud alone at home for longer than a day, so he would inevitably need to leave.
Those nights for Tubbo and Ranboo would be the worst, having to calm down their sobbing son and apologizing to their friend on their communicators for Michael's tantrums. Tommy would always laugh it off, saying Michael was a kid and getting upset and throwing fits was normal for a kid. He would promise to visit again in a few days, just not the immediate next day, or else Shroud would be the upset child.
It went on like that for a few more years, Michael always being upset every time the moobloom would need to leave, even when he became a teenager in piglin standards. Of course, he became less violent about it, but the upset feelings never went away. He felt bad when Tommy felt bad for having to leave, not wanting to make his mama upset, but he couldn’t help it. Why couldn’t Tommy just stay?
It was always the same reason. “I can’t take Shroud here since he doesn’t like it here, and I can’t leave him alone for too long either, Mickey.”
Fucking Shroud and his unreasonable hate for him and his dads. That spider hybrid just wanted Tommy for himself, selfish prick. But Michael loved his mama too much to do anything about it, knowing Tommy would be sad if he hurt the white haired boy, Tommy’s son before he came in.
Tommy’s son. His mama’s son. Tommy always had to leave because of his child back in his own home, away from Snowchester.
Michael lit up with an idea. He knew how to make Tommy stay!
Tommy hums a random tune as he approaches the large, dark wooden gates of Snowchester, sling bag on his shoulder filled with some spare money, a communicator, and an extra shirt. Hanging on his other arm is a basket filled with a variety of treats for his favorite– full offense to Technoblade and Wilbur– piglin. There were banana chocolate muffins he baked with Niki on their reconciling and re-bonding sessions, egg sandwiches with the extra components Michael always asked for, and of course no one could forget the cookies. He’s pretty sure there’s more, but the others were from Techno, and he didn’t bother to check those.
He smiles at the residents in the village at the entrance, them smiling back, recognizing him as the mayor of the town’s friend with how often he visits. The mansion wasn’t that far from the main gate of the nation, so it doesn’t take long until he’s knocking at the family’s door, whistling a song he heard from some men on the sidewalk.
The door is quick to swing open, and he’s mildly surprised to see Michael be the one to open the door for him rather than either of the piglin’s fathers. He laughs when Michael grins widely and picks him up, spinning him around excitedly.
Tubbo and Ranboo’s son was much bigger now, since piglins aged faster than normal. Though he would be around ten if he were an overworld being, he was around nineteen or eighteen in piglin standards, which made Tommy a bit sad. Michael was no longer a little baby he could carry around and feed milk from a bottle, or steal from his dads and hide him so he could take care of the little boy in his arms by himself.
Tommy giggles from the ticklish sensation of when Michael nuzzles his snout into his pale neck, his tusks lightly grazing the older’s skin. “Let go, Mickey. I still need to put the basket in the kitchen, Gods know your fathers would be upset if they didn’t get treats because you wouldn’t let go of me.”
Michael pouts, holding the tiny moobloom closer to his chest. “Let them be upset,” he huffs. “Those treats are for me yet they somehow always get more than I do.”
Tommy snorts. “That’s because you let your dads tease you. Man up, honey.”
The piglin groans and lets go of the moobloom, dropping him gently on the floor. “Betrayal. I can’t believe you would take their side over me.”
The blond picks up the basket he dropped and rolls his eyes, heading to the kitchen, Michael quick to follow him like a lost puppy. “I’m not taking any sides.”
“You so are!”
“Believe what you want to believe, hun.”
The young piglin huffs, watching with a pout as his mama put his hands on his hips and frowned at the unwashed dishes in the sink. “Oh, dad and papi ate lunch in a hurry so..”
Tommy’s frown disappeared, replaced with a smirk. “I’m never getting over how you call Tubbo ‘papi.’ Say, have I told you about when that man got himself..”
Michael happily listened to the moobloom’s story of when his father had been hanging out with Tommy’s family and accidentally called Tommy’s father ‘papi,’ the whole table having gone silent.
“Wish I could have taken a picture, his face was as red as the homemade catsup dad made. Dad said it was okay for Tubbo to see him as his father figure, but didn't stop him from getting embarrassed, though.”
Michael grinned, then thought about it. “Would that mean papi sees you as a sibling?”
Tommy frowned, placing the last plate in the drying rack. “Hmm, no, actually. I jokingly told him we would be twins if my dad was also his dad but he was really quick to say no. He didn’t mean it in a negative way, probably. Hopefully, because then I’d be sad. I think being twins would be fun. My older brothers are twins, you know?”
“Uncle Wilbur and Techno? They’re twins?” the piglin asked, mildly shocked.
Tommy laughs. “Yeah. It’s not very obvious, innit? Wilbur looks more human than Tech does, but that’s because he chooses to look more human.”
Michael perked up. “You can choose to look human? I mean, as a piglin. You can do that?”
The blond thinks. “Yeah. Would take a lot of focus, though. I remember watching Wilbur struggle for the first few times until he got the hang of it.”
“That’s— that’s really cool. I wanna do that.” Michael grins.
Tommy grins back, taking a treat from the basket and patting Michael’s cheek lovingly. “Well, I’m sure Techno and Wil can teach you. Want me to ask them for you?”
“No, no. I think I’ll do it myself.” Michael sighs contentedly, then he remembers his idea, and he jumps in excitement.
Tommy yelps when large, strong arms encase his waist and lifts him into the air, carrying him upstairs to the higher stories of the mansion. He laughs, turning to look at the boy he loved like a son. “What now, Mickey?”
“I have an idea,” Michael beamed, holding the moobloom tighter. “I know how I can make you stay here with us! So you won’t have to leave anymore?”
Tommy arches a brow in amusement, not really taking the bold statement seriously. “How are you going to do that, exactly? Gonna tie me to a chair? I could get your dads to get me out, y’know.”
The piglin grins, kicking one of the spare rooms’ doors open, slipping in and locking the door behind him. He gently places the confused moobloom on the soft sheets of the large bed in the room, going to a drawer and pulling a book out.
“Mickey? It’s four in the afternoon, sleeping so early at your age is bad for you,” Tommy worriedly quips, going to stand up only for Michael to raise a hand and gently shove him back to sit down. “What’s that book for– Hey, that thing looks familiar. I think Techno has a copy of that book at dad’s place.”
Michael jumps up to sit beside the moobloom on the bed, flipping through the pages of the book to get to the folded page, which made Tommy wince. Wilbur used to get upset whenever he had folded pages of books as a bookmark instead of ‘using some scratch paper like a normal person.’
“You always say you leave for Shroud, your child, right?” Michael is positively vibrating, making Tommy wonder even more what exactly his idea is.
“Yes?” Tommy says, questioning.
“So, I was thinking, I really want you to stay here all the time! And I had an idea!”
“Mickey, if it’s the you killing Shroud plan again, absolutely not–”
“I give you kids! Well, actually, I wanted to get dad or papi to do that, but I don’t think they’d like the idea very much. So I’ll do it myself!”
“WHAT?” Tommy stood up, eyes widening. “Mickey, no–”
“Because you’d stay for your kids, right? And this’ll work, too! This book’s about piglins and how they work! Right here it says we never have problems regarding reproduction, so if I just breed you one time you’ll for sure be pregnant!”
“Michael!” Tommy yelped, being pulled back down, flipped over so his back was against the sheets. “Michael, no, stop! Stop, Michael, don’t– hAH!” an involuntary moan ripped out of the moobloom’s throat, eyes shutting tightly, bottom lip almost bleeding with how hard he bit it to try and stop his sounds.
“Don’t worry, mama,” Michael smiled brightly, mouthing at the older’s neck, leaving red, angry marks in his wake. “I’ll make it feel good. And then you’ll be filled with kids, and you’ll be a real mommy! You can finally stay here forever!”
“Stop,” Tommy moaned weakly, breath getting fainter the more he felt Michael’s bulge grind against his clothed pussy, moving his pants’ cloth around and spreading his slick that his body started forming at the awareness of a potential mate. “Michael, please stop..”
“You’re wet, mommy,” Michael gasped excitedly. “That’s perfect!”
“Don’t,” Tommy’s breath hitches, feeling the piglin push his pants aside, not even noticing that his trousers had already gone moments ago. “Michael, don’t– fuCK!”
Even his copious amounts of slick didn’t stop the stretch of the piglin’s inhuman cock piercing right through him from burning, his tiny frame not made for something so ridiculously huge, and Michael hasn’t even bottomed out yet.
The poor moobloom could feel every vein, every inch that slowly but surely slipped into him, rearranging his insides to make room for the large appendage. It was all too quick, he barely thinks. He was barely wet enough to take all of it in, yet Michael continued to fuck further into him.
“Th-this isn’t r-right,” Tommy whined softly, tears pricking his eyes. “Mickey, please stop. Y-you’re too big for me. You’ll b-break me..”
Michael hums, ignoring the weak protests as he goes faster with each thrust, building up to give his full potential. “It’s okay, mama. Just shush, okay? Gonna fill you up really nice! Doesn’t that sound great? You’ll have my kids running around here in the mansion!”
Tommy hiccups, breath laboring as his body is moved full force with the piglin’s pace. It was messy, unorganized. He felt like the longer he was being pounded, the more his resolve broke.
He sobbed as he desperately tried to hold on to the thin string of sanity he had left, whimpering when Michael mashed their lips together, his mouth being forced open for a wet tongue to slip in, his own losing the battle. Michael is in no way gentle with his pace, making sure he feels every slap of their skin together.
His body is weak, limbs shaking. Vaguely, he hears Michael mumbling happily, manhandling him around as if to get better aim and fuck his deepest parts. One moment, he’s on shaky knees, back arched as the piglin takes him from behind, one hand on his waist and one holding back his arms. Another moment, he’s being held up, forced to bounce on Michael’s dick, feelings as if his guts were being stirred around.
He barely hears himself moaning like a whore, as if he enjoyed this. He was too fucked out to feel shame for the way he started begging, crying out as he was thrown around like some light toy.
“Michael! We’re home!” Tubbo called out, locking the mansion doors behind him. Ranboo hums a tune he heard from the street guitarist they passed by on their way home from a quick talk with Eret that turned out longer than expected, discussing Snochester’s finances and what not.
Tubbo frowns. No answer.
“Michael Beloved Underscore? Earth to Michael?” Tubbo called again, watching Ranboo trail off to the kitchen. He arches a brow when the enderman hybrid gasps happily, following to see what was up.
Tubbo smiles when he sees the basket. Ah, Tommy was here. Michael must be cuddling the poor moobloom upstairs, trapping him in his arms like he usually did now that he had the strength to.
“He’s early,” the brunette says, looking through the treats. “Didn’t he say he’d be over tomorrow?”
“Change of plans, I guess.” Ranboo shrugged, picking a brownie and munching on the sweet.
Tubbo was about to take one of the muffins to have a taste when a lewd, scream-like moan rips through the air, coming from upstairs.
The husbands’ eyes widen, and they look at each other before they agree to investigate.
The closer they get, the louder the rather inappropriate sounds get. The sound of squeals mixed with pleasured sobs met their ears. Tubbo flushed red, his hearing being more sensitive than normal. The moaning sounded familiar, a voice he knew.
It dawns on both him and Ranboo, and they hurry to find which room it was coming from to get Tommy out. They’re quick to find it, Tubbo huffing when he finds it’s locked, but not surprised.
“I’ll get the spare keys, it’s in the room next to this one,” he mutters to his husband. “You get a medkit in case Tommy’s hurt, and then we look for Michael, okay?”
Ranboo nods sagely, and they split up.
Tubbo’s walking is fast, searching the room for the spare keys, sighing in relief when he finds what he’s looking for. He heads for the door, fully intending to unlock the door to the room where his best friend was apparently being defiled.
“Michael! Please, please– More! Please, need more!”
The keys drop.
The pleas for more continue, and Tubbo gulps, eyes wide.
He doesn’t know when exactly he sat down and leaned on the wall to listen. He doesn’t know when he fished his hardening cock out of his pants and trousers, thumbing the already leaking tip from arousal.
All he knows is that he had started getting off to the sounds of his son fucking his best friend, guilt pooling in his stomach as Tommy wailed.
“You’re taking me so well, mama,” Michael praised, nuzzling the moobloom’s bruised neck, littered with love bites. “Soon you’ll be pregnant with my babies! And I’ll take care of you all the way!”
Tommy whimpers in reply.
Cum was dripping down his legs, both his and the piglin fucking him. His tiny cunt had been stretched wide open from Michael’s girth, left dripping and gaping whenever the boy pulled out, only to be plugged up again when Michael thrusted in once more.
For the probably millionth time that night, he came with a sequel, vision going in and out as Michael cooed at him, swiping at his clit with two fingers.
He was broken, overstimulated. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore. He couldn’t feel his body.
He felt as if he was simply watching himself get destroyed by the boy he saw as his son, claiming every part of his body, including his insides.
When Michael came inside him for the last time, his eyes rolled back, tears streaming down his cheeks. He remembers a whisper of “Now you won’t have to leave,” and his vision fades to black.