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Ehhh,I have to admit that a slut for Michael x reader x Martin,I loved every single one you made It,so here we are again...What about a Martin x F!Reader x Michael where they are both in a relationship,sfw and nsfw If possible😩✨

Yesss! I'm glad you're a fan of this pairing as well... it's just so much fun to imagine. Martin with his residual Catholic guilt. The actual Antichrist assuring him to simply let it go. I've always felt that Michael would feel some strange protectiveness over Martin. He can see the effects that religions left him with. He wants Martin to stop feeling so afraid. Act on his desires, every single one of them. After all, humanity as a whole was already damned.

This is sort of a cluster fuck I'm sorry.

~

Being in a relationship with two equally gorgeous men was almost easier than you would have expected. The two were polar opposites in such a way that they balanced each other out. Martin was often moody and elusive whereas Michael was exceedingly blunt. You never had to wonder what he was thinking. You didn’t have to question his motives, or walk on eggshells in fear of saying the wrong thing. Martin on the other hand kept you on your toes. He was sensitive in a way that was nearly baffling. In tune with your moods through some strange form of telepathy. God forbid if he wanted to get his way, he could find it in him to ignore you for weeks.

They managed to get along exceedingly well, despite in the beginning it was difficult to leave them in the same room. They danced around each other like cats--well Martin did. Michael never really seemed to notice or care. After a while Martin became resigned to the fact that Michael was sticking around for good. It was a quiet sort of agreement--they finally settled on sharing your affection, under the condition that neither of them would have to sacrifice time with you. Sometimes you wondered how you managed to get so lucky-- especially when it came to Michael. But then again you had to remember, you knew him since you were kids. When he disappeared you figured you’d never see him again.

Michael was the first to come to you with intentions of getting closer to Martin. At first you thought he was extending some sort of olive branch.The boy had been acting weird and cagey for the past month-- almost as though he was actively avoiding Michael. He kept his responses short and brief when he wasn’t silently staring him down from across the room. If you didn’t know any better, the man had accidentally crossed him again-- but you knew full well that wasn't the case. You could see the careful attention Martin paid to Michael’s movements, the faint blush spread across his face. The way his eyes would linger on the other man’s hands as he carried out the most mundane tasks. Michael would ask him a question, and he’d grow increasingly flustered before finding an excuse to leave the room. The boy was so transparent, it was completely adorable. All he had to do was ask.

And then there were the dreams. Martin sometimes talked in his sleep, but managed to avoid that problem for several months. One night, luckily when Michael was away, you could clearly hear him murmuring in his sleep. You couldn’t deny the flicker of excitement as he began to press himself into the mattress. Gently rolling his hips in a way that caused the temperature in the room to increase. Faint moans stifled by the pillow-- small breathy whimpers that died in his throat. You lean in with the full intention of assisting him, that was when he began to speak. You couldn’t make out much of what he was saying, but you explicitly heard him call out for Michael. At first you thought you had misheard him but he soon began to rut himself against the bed. The volume of his moans increasing, you clearly hear his name once more.

~

“He’s a fighter..I like that about him.” Said Michael.

“What do you mean?”

“His intentions are written all over his face. I’m flattered.”

You had to fight to suppress your grin, with the knowledge that Michael clearly tapped into his thoughts. You didn’t blame him-- you would have as well. You often envied that ability.

“You’ll have to be careful, he's wary. ” You shrugged.

“What does that even mean?

You fix him with a warning stare.

“You know how he is. The two of you have been getting along so well.. I don’t want you to go back to hating each other.”

“I’ve never hated him.”

“You know what I mean..”

Michael begins to laugh, you can feel your irritation rising-- your promise was to Martin, not him. He was the one who decided to re enter your life, and when you were in a relationship no less. To this day you still had no idea why Martin even agreed, he was always so afraid that he might lose you. At times you worried that you had bullied him into this--left him feeling as though this was his only choice. Deep down inside, you knew that wasn’t the case, Martin knew how much you loved him.In fact, he seemed enamored with Michael the second he stepped through the door, love struck gaze dancing over his features..

“Michael..this is serious. Are you just fucking around? So you read his thoughts, and? He’s obviously attracted to you.”

Michael grew silent for a moment, a nearly unreadable expression washes over his face. He glances over towards the bookshelf, absentmindedly adjusting his rings. You knew Martin would want to kill you if he knew you had said those words aloud.

“I’m sorry.. y/n. I’m just--I’m curious. I just want to know what makes him so special? I don’t understand why I keep.. Thinking about him. Do you remember the last time that we were together?

You cross your arms over your eyes as you lay back against the sweat drenched sheets. Heartbeat hammering against your ribs as you struggle to catch the remnants of your breath. Something had clearly gotten into Martin, the boy was nearly insatiable. His actions were almost theatrical in a way as he bends you into nearly impossible positions. He knew he had an audience, Michael sat back on his knees perched at the edge of the bed. Hungrily drinking in the sight in front of him, unsure of where his eyes should land. Your long toned legs wrapped around the boy’s slender waist, delicate fingers grasp aimlessly at the sheets.

It wasn’t rare that you all shared the same room during nightly activities. In a way, it made sure that everything was fair. No one was starved from your attention, they each waited patiently for their turn. They stayed at opposite ends of the bed, gauging your reactions to see ‘who could do it better.’ You hated it, but it was the only way to keep these beautiful boys together in the same room. Still tied to the staunch rules of Catholicism, you were surprised that Martin even agreed to get undressed in front of another man. Michael made no attempt to hide the way he blatantly leered. Your boyfriend’s cheeks burned bright red as he climbed on top of you, burning his face at the crook of your neck. When he was with you, Martin felt completely absolved. He was able to ignore the weight of the man’s unwavering gaze.

He didn't wonder how it would feel to have those full lips pressed against the juncture of his thigh. He never imagined the sensation of the elegant jewels on Michael's fingers lightly brushing across his cheek.

~

His eyes began to roam over Martin’s back, faint muscles shifting beneath porcelain skin. A notion suddenly popped into Michael’s head which immediately caused his cheeks to burn. “No no no .. not now…” The images continued to play through his mind. Martin was beautiful, he realized that from the very beginning. He wasn’t surprised that you wanted him-- the boy was lovely in a delicate sort of way. Much to his dismay, even when they were at each other’s throats-- he felt this strange sort of protectiveness over Martin. He would watch him enter the door once he got home from work, cheeks singed pink from the late afternoon heat. He always looked so broken and overwhelmed, he often wanted to ask him what was wrong. But he never asked, he didn’t want to interfere, or risk breaking the peaceful spell that overcame the three of you.

As he continued to watch the scene unfold in front of him, He found himself inching closer. He wanted to brush the stray tendrils of hair away from Martin’s neck as his lips trace along his shoulder blade. He wanted to flip him over onto his back and finally press his lips against that ever present pout. Kiss him silent, he was always complaining. He could surely give him something to whine about. The sounds that escaped the young man’s lips caused something inside to ignite. He didn’t have to wonder what he was feeling now, he held you in the same position only nights before. Only now his attention wasn’t on you, but instead on the motion on his hips as he pistons you against the bed.

You were breathless, aimlessly grasping at the sheets as he drew another release from your core. Your cheeks burned, you could feel dampness soaking into the mattress and Martin seemed to have no intention of letting up. His hand was poised over your throat with just enough pressure to hold you still. Every now and then he would lean in, kissing you breathless as he whispers your practiced nickname against your lips. You could feel the weight of Michael’s stare-- the bed springs groan as he inches closer. You already feared the weight of the repercussions, Michael never liked to be second choice. The boy was spiraling, threatening to actually spill, still buried deeply inside you to the hilt. He quickly withdraws as his teeth dig into the flesh of your neck.

“I-I’mm so sorry.. “ he whispers against the shell of your ear. “I’m going to take care of you for a while alright?”

He swiftly ducks between your thighs, causing more beautiful noises to escape your throat. Michael’s eyes were glued to Martin, and the way the faint muscles of his back would contract. Leaning closer, gaze traveling over the faint dusting of freckles littered all across his shoulder blades. Like tiny constellations, he wanted to trace over each one of them with his tongue.

Michael allows his hand to freely roam down his chest, fingers ghost over every unhealed line and mark. Raised bits of flesh from failed rituals-- some of them summoning Martin himself.. But the majority of them were aimed towards his Father.

In a way, Martin’s attention seemed to quell some of the aching disappointment. He was no longer listening to his cries. He had failed. He no longer understood his purpose in life. Was he even actually the Antichrist?

He was acting on pure instinct now, as he allows his palms to lightly ghost over Martin’s back. Much to his surprise, Martin didn't recoil... a nearly sinful moan escapes the young man's lips. So it was true? His thumbs began to graze over every dip and curve. Each small shiver and breathy sigh left him craving more.

Martin’s lips continue to move over your heated flesh, as Michael smooths his hands over his back.

“Don’t you feel…”

The sigh beneath him causes his heart to skip a beat, he lifts his head for the briefest moment. The boy was practically shivering on top of you, head buried against the crook of your neck. He seemed to curl in on himself for a moment, beneath the weight of Michael’s words.

“Her intentions washing all over you--”

The young man gasps aloud as Michael’s fingers bite into his flesh. Lips warm and inviting, they manage to leave a lingering sting in their wake.

More well placed kisses along his spine as Martin continues to work you over.

He can clearly see Martin shake his head in disagreement as Michael’s fingers press into the indentations on his lower back. He leans in, tracing his lips along the curve of his ass, the boy practically convulses against you.

Despite himself, he was completely receptive to Michael’s every touch. Shivering against you as warm breath ghosts across his skin. Arching his back in an attempt to get closer, all the while Michael places feather soft kisses against his ear.

It was too much. All his dreams and fantasies seemed to muddle together in a gray and grainy blur. An icy blue gaze that seemed to pierce through his very flesh, in a feeble attempt to truly see him. A wolfish grin and pearly white teeth all hidden behind plush lips that he desperately longed to taste. All that was left to be aware of was the lingering sweetness on his tongue and the sensation of Michael pressing against his back. He could faintly feel strong and calloused fingers slipping around to his front. Lingering against his hip bones--biting into the smooth flesh of his stomach. He needed more.

Please touch me…

The words seemed to linger in the deepest recesses of his brain. He could never know. He could never say it aloud.

“Martin..turn around.”

#this is so bad...

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