Can you do 26 with Jeremy/Rich/Michael? I really loved how you wrote them in that other fic bdkhfsk I need more
not accepting drabble prompts anymore!!
26. “You think you’re he’s so funny.” (I changed this one slightly!)
Being the third partner in a relationship of two best friends wasn’t easy. Jeremy and Michael already had such a strong bond, that Rich often felt like a third wheel to his own boyfriends. It wasn’t their fault, of course. They had a history, and that wasn’t their fault.
It was a perfect mix of adorable and annoying when the two could seemingly talk without words, leaving Rich out of their silent conversations and inside jokes.
Michael was the worst at it, making Jeremy laugh with just a look, and then Michael would start to giggle too, and Rich was left sitting between them, confused yet still amused.
“What are you two telapathically communicating about now?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
Jeremy took a breath to answer before dissolving into giggles again, which only made Michael laugh more.
“You think he’s so funny, huh?” Rich asked Jeremy. “I’ll show you funny.”
He easily pulled the other teen into his lap, fingers dancing up and down his sides, causing his laughter to raise about three octaves and become much more frantic than it had been before.
Michael had stopped laughing now, still holding his chest to comfort his breathless lungs, but a wide grin was still plastered across his face as he watched his two partners.
“Don’t look so smug, Mike, or you’re next,” Rich warned, but he didn’t look all too intimidating as he fought back heart-eyes and a huge smile.
Michael put his hands up in surrender. “If it helps my case, go for his neck.”
“Michael!” Jeremy cried, scrunching up his shoulders as curious digits poked at that spot mercilessly. “That’s not fair!”
“All is fair in love and war,” Michael replied cheekily.
Rich didn’t bother to tickle an answer out of Jeremy, desperate to be let in on a joke. He didn’t really mind. They could have their inside jokes and their history. Rich still felt welcome as ever, especially in the playful moments like these.
“Who ate all my candy?!!” You yelled, holding up an empty plastic bowl. A quick glance around the room told you it was either your cat or the teen hurriedly shoving candy wrappers in his hoodie pockets.
“It was the cat, swear to god,” Michael mumbled. “They’re evil little creatures.”
You snickered, rolling your eyes. “I know it was you, dumbass. Do you really think I’m that dumb?”
“Maaaaaaybe…” Michel mumbled jokingly, a smirk slowly growing on his face. You scoffed and crossed your arms, turning back to the kitchen to root around for leftover candy.
maybe micheal sees his so performing form the first time?
Ok, Michael has helped you practice before. He’s heard you perform many times, but when you were on stage in the whole outfit, he was, for once, at a loss for words when you performed. Your boyfriend already got you a bouquet of flowers, but he now feels like nothing is enough. You were a goddess in his eyes, breath-takingly beautiful and immensely talented. It took him a few seconds after your performance for him to jump up from his seat and yell, “Great job! Wonderful! Encore!” Then, he whispered to the person next to him, “We’re dating.” Then, he shouted, “That’s my partner! Yeah!”
Afterward, he tackled you, kissed you deeply, complimented you so much, you could only smile and laugh and giggle. After he showered you with love and adoration, he randomly shouted in the hallway, “We accept tips!”
Michael freezes mid-step because he is caught so incredibly off guard. He turns slowly to face Jeremy who fell a few steps behind—Jeremy who just made a command so unlike him that Michael is sure he couldn’t have heard right.
But when he turns, Jeremy is strangely serious, staring directly at him, sweater bunched in his fists, cheeks red, one foot tapping ever so subtly against the ground. He’s five feet away, standing against a backdrop of street lamps while he collects snow in his hair and attracts the attention of any passerby within their vicinity. It’s like a scene straight out of a bad Hallmark movie, and Michael knows that Jeremy must be itching from the attention because this isn’t like him at all.
Jeremy is always quiet touches and soft cuddles at midnight, legs tangled beneath an old Pokemon throw blanket. He is light, teasing brushes under the lunch table until Michael is the one to finally interlock their fingers.
Jeremy is quick glances to make sure no one is around when he gives Michael a peck on the cheek before parting ways for class. And Jeremy is that look of simultaneous surprise and embarrassment when Michael pulls him back for a real kiss, smiling against his lips because the hallways are empty anyway—so who really cares?
“Jeremy, wait—“ Michael stumbles back a step as Jeremy moves forward, resolute and completely unwavering. They’re inches apart. He gently takes Michael’s gloved hands in his own.
Michael’s heart beats faster. He feels oddly panicked on behalf of Jeremy because there are so many eyes on them, and Jeremy has never been bold declarations or public affection or kissing in front of an audience. Not even in front of their friends, who are all present and who all must be staring in some mix of puzzlement and anticipation.
“Michael?” Jeremy moves one hand to Michael’s cheeks, fingers cold against his skin, but his touch is just as soft as his voice. He feels Jeremy shivering, either from the cold or nerves—probably both. A breath catches in his throat; he scans Jeremy’s face for any hint of regret or discomfort, but his blue eyes are clear of any doubt.
“Kiss me.” He repeats, sounding so sure of himself this time that Michael can’t resist nodding slightly and pressing his lips to Jeremy’s. And just like that, the world around them seems to melt away.
They pull away briefly, foreheads pressed together. Michael lets out a short, breathy laugh, warmth bubbling in his chest. “Everyone’s looking you know.”
Jeremy, who had only opened his half-lidded eyes to gaze fondly at Michael, closes them once again, and into their next kiss, he murmurs, “Let them.”
The word slipped out of Michael’s lips before he could stop it. He knew where Jeremy was going, even if Jeremy didn’t want him to know.
Jeremy was halfway out the door under the pretence of having to go home to finish homework when Michael’s words froze him into place. The boys shared a glance and Jermey’s eyebrows furrowed before he let his face smooth over into an easy smile.
“It’s just a few blocks, Michael, “Jeremy rolled his eyes, leaving Michael alone in his room.
That’s not what he meant.
That night, like most nights, Michael stays up for hours, watching headlines and sightings pour in, making sure the next one isn’t detailing a deadly end to the city’s protector.
It’s like a plea. Michael and Jeremy have only just reconciled and both move around each other like one wrong move may shatter them irreparably. This time they both know that Michael knows where Jeremy is going and it makes Jeremy pause for a different reason.
Michael’s voice was high and nervous, raised just before Jeremy could jump out of Michael’s window. It made Jeremy start and turn quickly.
Michael wouldn’t meet his eye, but punctuated his plea with a small “please?”, picking at invisible threads.
“Always,” Jeremy says lightly.
Their eyes meet for a moment, before Jeremy is out the window.
Michael shouts fondly, watching Jeremy from below. Jeremy is surrounded by a starless sky and Michael’s breath catches. His best friend is bouncing up and down on a synthetic web tightrope, smiling and showing off for the boy below him.
Before Michael can make another sound, Jeremy is diving towards him. Michael jolts but Jeremy is stopped only a few feet above him, hanging by a thread upside down.
“Dude!”
“Scared ya!” Michael can hear the smirk underneath Jeremy’s mask.
“I hate you,” Michael says, smiling wide.
“Be careful,” He murmurs, his voice thick with sleep. Jeremy wasn’t even supposed to go out tonight, but when danger calls, Spider-Man answers. It is simultaneously one of his most and least favourite things about his boyfriend.
Jeremy finishes putting on the suit, sans mask, and walks over to their bed, stooping down beside Michael.
“I’m never not, I’ll always come home to you,” Jeremy promises quietly, pressing a quick kiss to Michael’s cheek before leaving through their window.
He smiles, his heart beating a mile a minute. A moment, two moments pass before Michael is shifting and walks his way to the kitchen, brewing a pot to tide him over until Jeremy comes home to him.
Random number generator decided 76 said by Jeremy, 52 said by reader (and optionally 66 said by Michael). I have not looked what it is and I'm scared
76: “ You’re one hell of a guy. ” <– changed to keep gender neutral but essentially is the same
52: “ Can we cuddle? ”
66: “ Is that a new perfume? ”
(thats actually a really interesting idea btw)
hi self indulgence as i remember ap chemistry
the sound of your backpack hitting the floor is what caught both michael and jeremy’s attention. whatever game they’d been playing was paused as you stepped over jeremy and sat in between the two of them, waving off their thoughts with a soft ‘i’m fine’ before they eventually returned to whatever level they’d been in.
so maybe you weren’t fine. at least, not after your last class. you hated ap chemistry and you regretting taking the class two months into the year - but at that point it was a bit too late to change out of it and you would be fine, you could handle it - christine was there and christine could help you, right? apparently not. not due to her - due to your own slip ups and your own mistakes and your own damned pride when you swore that you understood everything, don’t worry-
well, apparently you didn’t understand everything. the good news is you could retest - thank god - but even then, your pride was wounded and you felt so much fucking anger toward yourself.
“… is that a new perfume? or - cologne or whatever the fuck you wear,” michael said, chuckling softly. you nodded, not looking away from the TV screen. then he spoke again, voice softer this time. “[y/n]? you sure you’re okay?” michael’s hand was on your own, the game paused before the three of you.
you shrugged.
“[y/n]…”
“had a shitty day.”
“wanna talk about it?”
you shrugged. “failed a ap chem test.”
“wait, really? did you-”
“i talked to the teacher and she said i could retake it. i still feel like shit though because i wasted christine’s time and i just… fucking hate this feeling.” you frowned, plucking at the hem of your shirt, “and i should have just switched classes but, fuck, then i feel stupid for quitting-”
“[y/n],” jeremy interrupted you, “you shouldn’t feel bad about quitting. i mean, you’re one hell of a person but… even you have your limits.”
“i know,” you groaned, “but-”
“no buts,” michael was the one to interrupt this time, “c’mon, [y/n], you’re the one that keeps telling us to take care of ourselves. you should do the same.”
you nodded slowly. “yeah. alright.” you paused. “… can we cuddle?”
“This shirt is so soft, wow!” If you get the chance that prompt with StageDorks would be amazing! It seems to be strangely rare to see (given that it’s cannon) and your fics are adorable.
drabble prompts!! - thanks for the request!!
#14. “This shirt is so soft, wow!”
Christine loved to touch things, Jeremy realized.
His hair, his cardigan, the sheets on his bed. It seemed to help her concentrate, to calm down when she was stressed, or honestly, just because.
“This shirt is so soft, wow!” she said, running her hand across his chest.
“Oh!” Jeremy blushed at the contact, still not quite used to any form of intimacy from his now girlfriend. “Thanks, I think?”
Christine giggled. “Yes, it’s a compliment,” she said, her fingers trailing down his sternum and down his stomach in one swift, soft motion.
He let out a quiet squeak, his stomach jumping beneath her touch.
“Sorry! I always forget how ticklish you are,” she said, grinning.
“Don’t bring it up,” he mumbled, trying to hide his blushing face in the sleeve of his cardigan.
“Aw, why? You’re so cute!” she cooed. She reached out to run her palm over his belly, her fingers curling momentarily to make him squeak out a laugh, trying to twist his torso away from her touch.
“Christine!” he whined, giggling.
“What? I’m just feeling the material.”
“It tihickles!”
Christine giggled along, stilling her fingers to nuzzle her face against his chest, hugging him around the waist. “You’re adorable.”
“Nah, that’s you.”
Maybe he would have to wear soft clothes more often,
