#not entirely sure if the x reader tags are relevant yet but these are intended for x reader stories eventually! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pacman-tattoo · 7 years

Text

control [jeremy h. x squipped!reader]

aka “i wanna impress my dorky crush bc he’s rly cute and im awkward.”

alright taking off my usual bold for authors notes because i gotta so:

here’s some notes about some shit that’ll be relevant:

squipped!reader has “The SQUIP’s text, which is all in bold only,” but sometimes will have “Regular quotes surrounding it” - which stands for something the SQUIP is making the reader say (but that will always be accompanied by some sort of clarification to avoid confusion, i promise)

there’s also “Regular speech” from the reader, but also “their thoughts directed toward the SQUIP” which are in both bold and italics

there u go.

quick reminder: if anything bothers you, absolutely just come to me and talk to me about it. if i need to fix anything, tag anything, do anything - just tell me.

warning: considering reader is squipped, there’s a bit of abuse from said SQUIP. shocks, manipulation - stuff like that (similar to what jeremy faced in the musical)

Jeremy Heere was in four of your classes. Four. In two of them he sat a few desks in front of you by some random seating order, in one he sat right next to you, and in one he was cross the room. It was bad enough having one class with him, since you’d grow flustered and your palms would get sweaty and you would immediately become tongue-tied the moment you had to say anything to him - but four classes? Someone was out to get you, and you were pretty positive about it. It was pretty difficult to not glance his way in hopes that maybe he was looking at you during math - where he sat right next to you and sometimes asked if he could borrow your calculator because wow he forgot it again and you either stuttered out your apology or shove it in his direction and pray you knew how to do math good enough with a calculator. In english he sat desks away, and sometimes would whisper shit to Michael Mell and sometimes he’d get detention for it, and you heard him in chemistry talk about Christine Canigula a few times to Michael whenever they were away from prying ears - and you never intended on listening, it just sort if happened but you refused to say anything to anyone because wow what a creep listening to other people’s conversations wow.

So you kept your head down and prayed that maybe you could work up the courage to talk to Jeremy - or maybe Michael, because maybe if you talked to Michael you could talk to Jeremy and it wouldn’t be so awkward right, because then you’d know Michael and Michael wouldn’t be a third wheel or something - not that he’d ever be a third wheel because you and Jeremy were just a dream and it would never happen, even if you kinda wondered what it would feel like to be in his arms sometimes but that was just thoughts that happened sometimes and only sometimes and you totally didn’t miss a couple of notes in your history class because you were thinking about Jeremy and how he was kind of cute because he fell asleep.

Fuck, you were kind of creepy weren’t you. Sixteen years old and a complete weirdo, yep, totally - no wonder Jeremy never really talked to you. You picked at your nails and you retreated into oversized shirts and into your hoodies and pretended that you weren’t there because school is hell. Hell, you were used to not really being the cool, popular kid - you’d always been a bit of a loner, really, and luckily enough, rumors didn’t really fly about you and you weren’t even a blip on the radar. Meanwhile, Jeremy was... different. He was a bit of a geek and kind of tall so he stood out a bit more than you tended to.

You weren’t complaining. You saw the shit people gave Jeremy - a certain short bully calling him ‘tall-ass’ for one - and you wished you could find it in you to stand up and tell them all to fuck off. But you weren’t a blip on the radar. You were unseen and you didn’t have much of a problem with it, so you kept your mouth shut and let the regrets stew in your mind.

You had a tendency to wander around the mall - maybe slipping into Spencer’s or maybe into GameStop or whatever seemed not too busy - after school since you were drained and just needing to get away, but didn’t want to make the walk home. And by some stroke of luck, Rich Goranski had been alone, walking straight into you and making some comment before he froze while you quickly stuttered out an apology. He recognized you. He knew your face and he knew you and, fuck, there went you invisibility.

“You.” He said, staring at you. You braced yourself for the worst, but he stopped, staring at you. As if processing thoughts, or as if he wasn’t quite there before he slowly blinked. “... [y/n].”

You nodded. He went to say something. He stopped.

Then he figured out what he was going to say. “After school. Tomorrow. Behind the gym.”

You nodded quickly, going to speak only for him to snap.

“We’ll talk.”

Needless to say, you were terrified as fuck. And pretty sure you were going to die. Well, fuck, at least I don’t have to take that chemistry test, was your attempt at maybe being a little okay with dying if Rich killed you - then again he did say behind the gym so maybe he wouldn’t kill you, at least, he wouldn’t kill you on campus, right?

Hopefully.

You went through the day with dread filling up your entire existence and your heartbeat in your ears. Jeremy asked if he could borrow your calculator again. You jumped and shoved it in his direction and he looked at you kinda weird but apologized before you rambled out an excuse that you weren’t feeling well and maybe you’d be fine in a little bit because it was nothing serious and he shouldn’t worry about it. That didn’t stop a weird look, but he didn’t question you further, so at least that was fine.

You bolted from your seat in your last class and went immediately for your locker, running into Jake Dillinger in the process before muttering an apology and keeping your head down. You didn’t need anyone seeing you or wondering why you were weird or whatever. You somewhat debated whether you should actually go meet Rich, since you could get pretzels at the mall. Then you decided that maybe you shouldn’t do that because Rich might kill you if you don’t go meet him - or maybe he’d kill you either way, hell if you knew.

So you went to meet him.

It took him twenty minutes to show up. You texted your parents you’d be home a little later and that you were at the mall. They shrugged it off - that’s where you always were, wasn’t it? And then Rich approached you.

“You’re actually here?” He said, apparently in disbelief that you actually showed up. You nodded slowly.

“Look, I’m sorry that I ran into you the other day and -”

“Don’t.” He noticed you tense up, before shoving his hands in his pockets, “you...” He began, slowly, as if he had to think over every word. “You remember me freshman year.”

You almost told him no. But then you remembered - freshman year, biology, Rich was your partner for a project and he was quiet and... didn’t he have a lisp? Maybe you were imagining it, because he doesn’t now - and then slowly nod. “Yeah. In biology-”

“Then you remember how I was.”

You took a small step away, “Rich, if this is about me-”

“Shut up about that shit!” He snapped, before slowly regaining his composure, “sorry. Habit. Well,” he began, “I changed.” You nodded again. He went to speak only to hesitate, his voice becoming slightly softer, “I think you could use some help.”

You shot him a confused look, brows furrowed as you take in the words, “help?”

“Yeah. You like Heere, don’t you?”

Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw, is it that obvious? You shove aside the thought as you nodded.

“Listen,” he said, the smallest hint of a smile playing at his lips, “you saw me freshman year. And now look at me!”

“How do you know I like Jeremy?” You asked, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets.

“I have my sources.” He smirked.

Fuck, that meant someone else knew.

“Look, just-” He paused, “you could use a SQUIP.”

“A what.”

“A SQUIP. It’s this... pill. You take it and this quantum computer will implant in your brain and tell you what to do.” He paused. “It would help you.” You only stared at him. “It’s six hundred-”

“Six hundred?” You repeated.

“It’s worth it. Trust me.”

“Rich, I can’t just get six hundred dollars,” you said, “but... maybe if you give me some time-”

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Give me your phone,” he repeated. You unlocked it and handed it over. He punched something into it, “text me when you get the money. Only when. Don’t fucking bother me otherwise.”

You nodded quickly. He turned to leave after shoving your phone back to you. “Wait, Rich-” He stopped and glanced back over to you. “Why me? Why now?”

He shrugged, shouted something back about getting the money, and then left you alone with your thoughts.

Six hundred dollars. You could do this. Rich said this would help you and what did you have to lose?

First you checked your room for anything. You found an old shoe-box you’d been keeping, various pictures and other oddities inside of it, and in the corner was fifty bucks tucked away with a note that said ‘if the game is released’ with a shitty sketch of a crown out to the side and you couldn’t remember what game, but it was a start. Thanks, younger you.

Five hundred and fifty. You’d get roughly twenty for your allowance.

Five hundred and thirty. Maybe you still had some birthday money if you searched hard enough. You didn’t. Maybe your grandmother would pay you for doing stuff around the house.

She did - after an awkward conversation about getting a job but offered you cookies she’d made when she heard you were coming over. Fifty for the yard work - kinda generous since you didn’t do much, but you had the sneaking suspicion it was also because you actually came over.

That left four hundred and eighty. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard.

It was harder than you thought. You had shoved your money away into the shoe-box from earlier and you’d yet to add a penny to it. So you started going through your shit and hoping maybe you’d find something super rare and maybe someone would pay a decent amount for it.

You didn’t. Fuck. You did end up throwing a bunch of old games onto eBay because maybe they’d get some money.

Your aunt needed someone to babysit next Saturday. You immediately took her up on the offer - ten dollars an hour wasn’t bad, and you were pretty sure it was only because you were related. Besides, you didn’t hang out with your cousins enough - Jason was a sweetheart who talked to you about how eighth grade was going, Dawn spent all her time reading in her room and ignoring her older brother, and Alex, who talked about their freshman year and this cutie who was in one of their classes - and the only reason you were actually there, because you’d heard something about Alex getting in a fight with the neighbor’s kid and that your aunt didn’t want a repeat of last time. Maybe you’d hang out with them again another time, without the idea of money as incentive.

Then again, you were getting paid forty bucks for basically hanging out with these kids. The money wouldn’t hurt.

One hundred dollars from five games. Well, goodbye childhood memories, you will be missed...

Maybe you could sell cookies or something. Cookies sell well, especially at school. Secret cookie market. No one will know.

Maybe cookies will fill the void of three hundred and forty.

Fifty bucks from your grandmother. Twenty for allowance.

Rich grew impatient. You told him your status behind the gym. He shrugged it off and told you to hurry the fuck up.

He gave you another week. Saturday at the latest. That gave you enough time to get allowance. Maybe clean up your grandmother’s house.

Time to sell an organ.

You somehow managed to get Mr.Reyes’s drama classes to buy cookies from you. They’re sworn to secrecy and you sold him some for a discounted price. You made fifteen dollars and had someone ask if you could maybe make some chocolate chip cookies for an upcoming birthday party and they’d pay you twenty since they’d need a ton. You stayed up until two in the morning the night before baking enough. Your parents are glad you’ve found something you enjoy. Maybe you could have a bakery someday.

You get twenty from the kid and an extra fifteen from their mom. Sweet.

Sunday. You’re doomed. How the fuck are you supposed to get over two hundred dollars in a week? How would a GoFundMe look for this? Hey help me get a fucking pill so I can maybe be not a loser and maybe get to date a cute dork-

Speaking of which, you noticed Jeremy signed up for the play - mainly because people gave him shit for it until a bunch of popular kids signed up. Maybe you could talk to him about it.

You had some books. Maybe you could sell them - holy fuck, you had a signed copy of Deathly Hallows. How much money would someone pay for that?

Apparently, over two hundred.

You texted Rich the moment you were able to get the cash from the bank.

He told you to meet him in an hour at the school.

You stood behind the school, hands shoved in your jacket pockets as you looked around. This shit better had been worth it. In the distance you can see Rich crossing the football field, walking toward you with a bottle of soda in one hand and a shoe-box under his other arm. You squinted in the dying light of the day at him, and you felt your phone buzz against your hip. It’s your father - you shoot him an excuse and say you’ll be home soon and he responds with a simple ‘okay’ before shoving your phone out of the way.

Rich stopped in front of you. You pulled out the money and held it out, and he shoved the bottle of soda into your other hand as he counted out everything.

“Holy shit.”

“What?”

He looked back to you before shoving the money into a pocket, “nothing. Thought you wouldn’t-”

“Fuck, Rich, just give me the damn squid.”

“SQUIP.”

You rolled your eyes. He opened the shoe-box and pulled out a small, grey, oblong pill and held it out to you.

“Take it with the mountain dew. That’s what activates it, or some shit - fuck if I know why. And... You might want to prepare yourself. There’s a bit of pain but it’ll be fast-”

“Wait, Rich-”

“No, no, it’s fine, I swear. It’ll be shitty for a minute, but then...” He smiled. He was smiling and it unnerved you, “then it’ll be fine.”

“Are you gonna leave me here or...?”

“Nah. I’ll be right here."

You looked down at the pill in your hand. Doubt pooled in your stomach as you looked back to Rich, “and... this will help me?”

“Yeah! It’s helped me, after all.”

“You’re sure?”

“Holy fuck, just take it already.”

You nodded before setting the pill on your tongue, opening the soda and taking a swig as you swallowed the pill. You waited. Nothing but the taste of mint greeted you. But Rich stared at you.

“Rich, I don’t-” You were cut off as a sharp pain stabbed through your head, eliciting a gasp of pain from you. “Fuck-”

CALIBRATION IN PROCESS. PLEASE EXCUSE SOME MILD DISCOMFORT.

Yeah. Sure. Mild-

Your head seized up with pain again, sending you down onto your knees as you gripped at the sides of your head, every swear you knew spilling from you. Your nails dug into your scalp as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to find any relief from what was a thousand times worse than a migraine.

And then it stopped. You caught you breath as you slowly drew your hands away from your head, and looked back up to Rich. He didn’t say anything. You breathed. Finally, you had to ask, “is... Is that it-”

CALIBRATION COMPLETE. ACCESS PROCEDURE INITIATED.

“Access procedure- Rich, what the fuck-”

DISCOMFORT LEVEL MAY INCREASE.

“Wh-”

You were thrown to the ground once more as pain spiraled through you, seizing every part of you and forcing you to spasm as a shriek escapes you. Your thoughts are gone, replaced with endless pain and the occasional swear that wasted no time escaping from you.

ACCESSING: NEURAL MEMORY.

ACCESSING: MUSCLE MEMORY.

ACCESS PROCEDURE: COMPLETE.

[Y/N] [Y/L/N].

WELCOME TO YOUR SUPER QUANTUM UNIT INTEL PROCESSOR.

YOUR SQUIP.

The pain edged off bit by bit, leaving you breathing heavily as you tried to process what just happened. Your cheeks were wet with tears and dirt covered your pants legs and hands - and there was a small cut on one from a rock cutting into it. You looked up and there stood Rich, staring down at you.

“What the fuck,” you said, staring at him, “a bit of pain?”

“I warned you.”

“He did. According to your memory, he said you would face “a bit” of pain. He might have underestimated how much but-”

“What the fuck?”

“What?”

“Who the fuck-”

“I already said. I am your SQUIP.”

“Rich... what the fuck.”

“You hear it, don’t you?” He said, offering a hand. You took it and he pulled you up.

“Yeah. I do. It sounds like-”

“ My default setting is Keanu Reeves. You can also set me for-”

You stopped him. “He’s fine.”

“If you insist.”

You glanced down to your phone. Fuck, you needed to leave. So you thank Rich - as much as you didn’t want to, because the pain wasn’t really worth it, but your SQUIP prompted you to - and ran off. When you arrived home, you managed to sneak up to your room without much trouble, shedding off your dirt-stained pants and looking at the cuts on your hand.

“You should take care of those before they get infected.”

“I will.”

“You should also not say everything out loud. People will think you’re weird if you keep talking to yourself like that. Think at me. Like telepathy.”

“Like this?” You chewed the inside of your cheek. This would take some getting used to.

“Exactly. Now go take care of your hand.”

“Fine. Are you going to stay like this?” You left your room, swinging into the empty bathroom before shutting the door behind you and searching through drawers.

“Like this?”

“A voice.” You realized you had spoken aloud. Right. Let’s not do that. “Or is there some other shit I’m not seeing?” You paused. Where were the band-aids?

“Would you prefer a visual?” Your SQUIP asked. You shrugged.

“I wouldn’t be against it.”

“Very well. I’ll see what I can do.”

“So. What exactly are you supposed to do?”

“Well. You want to "not be weird” and you want this “Jeremy Heere” to notice you. I am here to help you with this goal.”

“So... I might have a chance with Jeremy?”

“That’s my purpose.”

You nodded slowly, washing the dirt off of your hands, careful to clean the cuts there. “So... how do I do... that.”

“Let’s start with your appearance.”

“What about it?” You muttered, applying a small dab of Neosporin to a cut, before covering it with a band-aid.

“You need to change.”

“What?”

“You’re talking aloud again,” the SQUIP warned, before continuing on, “look at yourself.”

You did. You looked as you always did, albeit a little dirtier. “I don’t-” You stopped. “I don’t see what I need to change.”

“No one has noticed you in the past. That was your goal. Well, if you want to achieve being noticed, then you need to change. Your appearance only the first step.”

“That... doesn’t sound too good.”

“I assure you, it’s necessary. Look at yourself - you’re refusing to acknowledge your own assets when you wear things like this. You have to change.”

You cringed a little. If you’d known that-

“You’d never have gotten a SQUIP.”

“I’d have thought about it more,” you said.

“I am here to improve your life, [y/n]. I can guarantee you won’t regret having me here.”

You hoped it was right.

The chirp of your alarm woke you up the next morning, and for once you didn’t just turn it off and turn back over. You sat forward, silencing it and rubbed at your eyes. No voice. No nothing. Fuck, did you just dream everything? You looked down at your hand - bandages still were in place. Maybe you just passed out and hurt yourself and imagined the whole thing-

“Good morning,” Your SQUIP said, materializing beside your bed. You nearly shrieked, throwing a pillow in the general direction of what looked like a man in his twenties. It phased right through them, hitting the wall.

“What the fuck?” You snapped, and your SQUIP frowned.

“I do believe you asked about a visual form.” They crossed their arms, “now. Like I said - first we’ll focus on your appearance. Open your closet.”

You obeyed, opening your closet door. You watched as your SQUIP only looked over options. They reached out, fingers phasing through a shirt as they tapped at it.

“Wear this one.”

“Why this one?”

“Don’t ask questions.”

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes, and began getting ready to the day. Your SQUIP stood, arms folded against their chest as they watched you.

“Jeremy Heere signed up for the school’s play. That means you should find a way to get involved.”

“They’re already working on the play, dude,” you said, pulling the shirt over your head, “it’s not like I can get a part or something.”

“There’s more involved in theatre than acting, [y/n]. Now, you’re going to talk and join as crew. Maybe you can work makeup. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

“Alright.”

“You need to stop talking aloud. Your parents are awake now.”

“How do you-”

“I have my ways.”

You frowned. “I sold a signed Harry Potter book for you.”

“It will be worth it. Now stop talking to yourself. Think at me.”

You scowled a little. “Fine.”

You smiled at Rich, upon being prompted by your SQUIP to do so. He smiled back, he waved at you, and whoever he talked to whispered something seconds later. Your SQUIP strode behind you, and you could feel their eyes pinned to your back.

“Straighten your posture.” They said, voice biting. You hadn’t realized your posture- “[y/n].”

You did. Your SQUIP knew best, right?

“That is correct.”

Sometimes you forgot the SQUIP heard all your thoughts. It’d be best to be careful about that-

“OW,” you hissed in pain the moment a small shock made it’s way through your fingers.

“You have a habit of picking at your nails when you’re uncertain. You need to be confident.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. “Alright. Whatever you say.”

Whatever physical manifestation your SQUIP had come up with had lingered around you, careful not to be a distraction to you the entire time, but instructing you softly. When a teacher called on you the exact moment your attention slipped, the answer she’d been looking for spilled out of your mouth before you could process what was going on - and the SQUIP only shot you a smile that unnerved you far more than anything else around you.

Lunch came and you sat alone - or as alone as you could get with your SQUIP there. You ended up pulling out your phone and trying to ignore the voice in your head telling you that you looked like a loner just sitting there - you should go find Jeremy or-

“Mr. Reyes is in his classroom. Go talk to him. If you want to be with Jeremy, you have to find a way to get closer to him.”

“How do you-” You stopped. “Know that?”

“I can access the school cameras, [y/n]. He just returned to his classroom. Go.”

So you stood, grabbing your things and left the cafeteria, your SQUIP walking ahead of you. You felt a small zap travel down your spin, forcing you to stand straighter than before.

“Confidence.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

You strode down the hallway, glancing toward classrooms - some empty, some with classes - and made sure to stay quiet. Every so often you’d pass a student or two, but for the most part the walk up to the drama room was quiet. You pushed open the door to the stairwell, listening to it creak open and shut behind you as you headed toward the basement.

“So... what am I supposed to do about Jeremy? What about Michael?”

“You will need to befriend Michael. Being friends with Jeremy’s best friend will help you. Stop talking aloud.”

You shrugged. “Whatever.”

You pushed through the door, looking down the hallway. You could hear the sound of chatter coming from the drama room, and approached as quietly as you could. The door had been cracked open, and you could see Christine sitting across from Mr.Reyes’s desk, talking about something animatedly and-

You looked at your SQUIP, tearing away from the door to speak in a hushed whisper, “did you know Jeremy was-” A shock traveled through you. “Did you know Jeremy was going to be here?”

“I did.”

“Why didn’t you warn me?”

“Because you would have never come.”

“What the fuck? I could have prepared myself mentally for this shit!”

“Calm down. Just knock and I’ll guide you through the rest.”

“I don’t know-”

“Don’t. Just go and do as I say.”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded before turning, walking back to the drama room. Barely two knocks in, three sets of eyes were on you as you slowly pushed the door open.

“[y/n]!” Jeremy said, smiling.

“Smile. Greet them.”

The commands were dumb, but they calmed you and you put on a happy facade. “Hey.” You were kind of happy that Jeremy greeted you. Christine smiled at you, and Mr.Reyes recognized you.

“I don’t have any money if you’re bringing more cookies,” he said, laughing softly, “how can I help you, [y/n]?”

“Ask about helping with the play.”

“I was wondering if there’s anything I could do to help with the play,” you said, keeping your voice steady.

There’s a beat. “... Really?”

You could practically hear the SQUIP smirk, and you nodded. “I haven’t really been big into theatre-”

“But you wanted to give it a try.” Your SQUIP prompted. You nearly nodded, before realizing that’d be.. kind of weird and you were avoiding weird- “Calm down. I’m right here.”

“But I’ve been wanting to try- and I thought-”

“You’d start with crew and maybe audition when the musical comes up.”

“That I’d just... start with helping and maybe audition for the musical?”

Mr.Reyes glanced to Christine, before a smile broke across his face. “We could always use crew - and, if you’re good at stage makeup, we have some zombies...” He launched into a monologue about the play as you stood there, awkwardly smiling and nodding every so often.

Well, it certainly sounded interesting, that’s for sure.

“As soon as you need me.” The words escape your lips before you can realize what happened.

“You’re welcome.” Your SQUIP lingered around Jeremy, before glancing back to Mr.Reyes, who was glimmering with happiness.

“... Thanks.”

Play rehearsal was quiet. Then again, you basically raced there after school due to the fact Mr.Reyes asked you to come see the show and then eventually he’d put you in to help move set pieces and whatnot. You sat in the first row, your leg bouncing as you waited, your SQUIP sitting beside you.

A shock traveled through your fingers and you glanced down. You hadn’t realized you’d started picking at your nails again.

“You never do.”

“Shut up.”

“Jeremy will be arriving within minutes. You’ll have exactly four minutes and twenty seconds to speak with him before Christine arrives. Make use of it.”

You nearly snickered a little. Four-twenty.

“Stop.”

You frowned. “How much longer until Jeremy-”

The door screeched open, before letting out a loud whine as it started to shut itself. You looked up and saw Jeremy walking in, clutching his backpack’s straps in his hands. He smiled once he saw you. You nearly melted a little - fuck, the warmth of his smile could rival the sun.

“[y/n]?” He said, throwing his bag into a seat several rows back, unzipping and digging out a script.

“Jeremy! Hey,” you smiled - genuine this time. “So... how’s the play going?”

He walked over, sliding into the seat next to yours. Your SQUIP phased through him, annoyed slightly, but quietly stepping beside you. Jeremy ran his thumb along the rim of the script, before flipping it open. “It’s been... fine.”

Out of the corner of your eye, the SQUIP began to motion toward Jeremy, before pointing at his script.

“Who are you?”

He stared at you for a moment, obviously confused before glancing down to the script, “oh. uh, I’m... Lysander.”

“That’s great!” You nodded. “Who.”

“Ask him if he needs help with lines.”

You smiled again, “so,uh, Jeremy, do you need any help with lines? I mean, I’m not much of a theatre kid so I wouldn’t be that good but- ow!” You hissed in pain a little.

“You have limited time, [y/n], Christine will be here soon.”

“I’m fine,” Jeremy shifted in his seat, “I... just never knew you were into this stuff.”

“Drama? Oh, yeah, I’ve always-” Your SQUIP stepped beside you, staring at Jeremy.

They interrupt you, “it’s a recent interest. You’re exploring your options.”

“I mean, I’m always exploring stuff - so I thought I’d give drama a try. Y’know... try stuff and see what I like?”

“That’s… cool.” He looked down to his script, “so…”

You weren’t sure what to say, and struggled to revive the dying conversation. Then the words came too quickly and, before you could process them,you were speaking. “I can’t wait to watch, Jeremy, I’m sure you’ll be amazing.”

You watched as a blush crept over Jeremy’s cheeks and neck and to the tips of his ears. “T-Thanks. I mean, Christine’s the real star though-” He looked up at you, starry-eyed, before continuing, “I mean, have you seen her act? She’s amazing!”

You struggled to find something - anything to say to that. But your SQUIP took the initiative and forced you to stand, “I’ll be right back-” and you practically watched as your body moved, brushing past Christine as she walked into the room, and found a janitor’s closet to shut yourself in.

Your SQUIP released the control they had over your body, stepping in front of you.

“What the hell?” You snapped, “you didn’t have to-”

“Did you see how he talked about Christine?” Your SQUIP retaliated, “he isn’t interested - there’s other people at this school-”

“Are you saying it’s hopeless?” You said, pain plucking at your heartstrings - only for a shock to travel through your spine and your fingers, forcing you to stand straighter, your hands flying to your sides.

“No.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that this will be harder if you wish to keep pursuing this boy.” The SQUIP stared at you, hands resting at their hips as they towered over you. Then they stepped back, glancing to the door. You swore they smirked before looking back to you. The moment you heard a knock at the door, they spoke, “tear ducts activate.”

“Wait, what-” You managed before your words were lost as a sob choked you, tears streaming down your cheeks.

The door opened slowly, and you furiously wiped at your face, trying to hide the forced tears that fell. “Woah, hey - it’s [y/n], right?”

Michael Mell stood before you. Almost always in the past you’d noticed him only when he was around Jeremy - because that’s when you only ever saw him: in your classes with Jeremy. Honestly, you had wanted to talk to him in the past since he seemed like a nice enough guy, but you’d never really worked up the nerve to. But there he stood, the soft sound of music playing from his headphones as he gazed at you with the gentleness of a doe.

“[y/n]?” He said once again, voice soft. “Are you alright?”

"Y-Yeah, I just... Fuck, I don’t know why I’m-” You were cut off as another sob was forced from you.

Michael frowned, before nervously shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “Do you... need a ride anywhere? I mean - I gotta give Jeremy his shit back, but I can give you a ride if you need it.”

Your phone buzzed at your hip. Your SQUIP set a hand on your shoulder. “Accept the ride. You need to befriend Michael for the outcome you want.”

You nodded slowly. “Y-Yes please.”

And he smiled at you. He fucking smiled at you and you felt the pit in your stomach for the first time in hours and you bit back everything. Every emotion that threatened to build up, every thought, everything and anything you were feeling - you bottled it all up without a second thought. You asked him to get your bag and tell Mr.Reyes that you felt sick, and he did and you were broken up about it. But your SQUIP stood and told you that this was all for the best.

Michael gave you his number. He said you could always text him and offered to invite you over on Saturday or whenever. It was small and sweet and you said you’d think about it, even while your SQUIP kept telling you to accept.

Michael waved at you after he drove you home, watching as you entered your house before driving off. You ended up hiding in your room, door locked as you changed clothes without a second thought. Fuck the rest of the day, you needed to think.

Rich invited you to eat lunch with him and his friends. The next day you sat with Michael and he complimented you on your shirt - some video game-themed merch you got on one birthday. When you asked about Jeremy, he grew quiet for a second, mulling over the thought.

“Drama.”

Figures. You’d have to face him sooner or later.

“He’s been busy. But,” he smiled at you, “he’s coming over on Saturday - and I think you should come.”

“Say yes.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I barely know Jeremy”

“Dude, it’s cool.”

“Say yes.”

“Michael, I just don’t know. But... sure. If you want me there.”

He was genuinely happy, smiling brightly as he fidgeted with his headphones. Your SQUIP moved, now standing in your direct line of sight. “Ask him for a ride.”

“Hey, uh, Michael, you... wouldn’t mind giving me a ride on Saturday?”

“No problem! I gotta get Jer anyway.”

You couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that had settled in your stomach.

The play was weird. You liked it. You really, really liked it. And honestly, you kinda saw why Jeremy liked Christine. She was passionate about everything she did - she calculated every gesture to make the most of every line, and just seemed like an angel in general. Jeremy, on the other hand, was more unsure - he learned his lines and he was decent but there was uncertainty practically dripping from him.

“He could use a SQUIP of his own.”

“Oh fuck no. I’m not giving Jeremy a SQUIP.”

“It was just a thought. It would certainly make my job easier-”

“Fuck off.”

Your SQUIP went quiet. You were kinda surprised that worked.

Rich approached you after play rehearsal, and stood there, only staring at you. He mumbled something to himself. Then he left you standing alone.

Weird.

“Keep an eye on him.”

“So you’re back?”

“I never left.”

“Right.”

“Jeremy is approaching you. It’s likely he wants to talk about Saturday.”

You turned to find that Jeremy was indeed approaching you, stopping a few steps back, tightening his grip on his backpack’s straps. “Hey, [y/n]. So... Michael may have mentioned that you’re coming over on Saturday and I just- I didn’t know you and Michael were friends.”

“It’s a recent thing.”

“Michael? Yeah, we, uh, became friends pretty recently-” You felt a shock travel through your fingers again and winced. “He’s really nice.”

“Say you’re excited for Saturday.”

“I’m excited for Saturday,” you said, smiling.

“You know what Saturday is, right?”

“No?”

“Halloween.” Your SQUIP’s voice clashed with Jeremy’s, and you shuddered.

“Halloween?”

“Yeah! I thought you’d be at Jake Dillinger’s Halloween party - I mean, you and Rich are friends and Rich would probably take you if you wanted-”

“Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“They could be,” your SQUIP taunted.

“I... see. Then... see you Saturday?”

You smiled, about to repeat the statement if it weren’t for the SQUIP deciding to speak for you, “see you in class, Jeremy.”

His eyes widened at the remark, before he smiled awkwardly. “Yeah - right, tomorrow.”

You were gonna fight your SQUIP.

“So is there any way to get rid of you?” You asked as you waited in your room. Michael had texted you he was on his way five minutes ago.

“No.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I am not.”

“Who the fuck makes a supercomputer in a pill that can... do all this shit and not make a way to get rid of it?”

“I assure you, you won’t need to get rid of me.”

You frowned. “Yeah... alright.”

“I hope you realize it’s become evident you don’t trust me, [y/n]. But I assure you, everything is working toward your goals.”

“You sure?”

“I am positive.”

You nodded slowly. Your phone buzzed. That was Michael.

Time to lose at video games.

“Dude, I got the coolest shit!”

Michael moved from between you and Jeremy after pausing the game - Apocalypse of the Damned, something you’d never played but were certain you still had a sealed copy of in our room somewhere - and knelt down next to his bed, reaching underneath.

“This dude at Spencer’s Gifts managed to get his hands on this.”

Jeremy looked back at you. “Michael buys these discontinued sodas from some guy that works there. Last time he bought a case of Crystal Pepsi.”

The sound of cans clinking together grabbed your attention, and then Michael turned back to the two of you. He held up a can of some red soda. “Mountain Dew Red! Discontinued in the nineties. I also managed to snag a two-liter of the stuff,” he said, smiling. “You want one?”

“No.”

You smiled, pushing your SQUIP’s respond out of mind, “sure.”

“[y/n].”

“It’s just fucking soda.” You took a can from Michael, cracking it open. “Thanks, dude-”

Pain spiraled through your hand, the soda slipping as you hissed in pain. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and looked back to Michael. “Fuck, dude, I’m sorry, I don’t know what just happened- I have to go.”

Your body moved on it’s own, as your out of his house and started on the way down the street. Eventually the grasp was gone and you stumbled forward, falling to your knees as you breathed heavily.

“What the actual fuck? It was just a fucking can of soda!”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s better that you go home.”

You didn’t move. “Oh my god. That’s it. That’s what deactivates you.”

“Go home.”

“I’m going back to Michael - I’d rather befriend Jeremy by myself. I’m tired of you forcing me to do this shit - I don’t want to use Michael, I don’t want to SQUIP Jeremy, and I’m tired of your bullshit-”

“Go. Home.”

You turned and started back toward Michael’s house. One shock traveled down your spine. You took another step.

Another shock - like any other.

Another step.

That was the final blow. Another shock bit into you, sending you to your knees as you felt tears escape you.

“[y/n]!”

You looked up. Michael and Jeremy were racing toward you. You breathed, before crying out, “Mountain Dew Red - please! I’ll explain later-”

Jeremy was at your side, while Michael left, going back to his house. “[y/n], what the hell-”

You choked out a sob. You couldn’t speak.

“Listen. You don’t want to do this. Think about it - how are you supposed to get Jeremy-”

“I don’t care,” you choked out, tears running down your cheeks. “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care-”

“You’ll never be the same.”

“I don’t care.”

“[y/n]?”

“You’ll never be accepted.”

“I don’t care.”

“[y/n], pleas-e”

“Jeremy will never love you.”

“I. Don’t. Care.”

You were a broken record, repeating the phrase over and over.

“Michael!”

The last thing you remembered was everything going black after intense pain filling you, and the faint flavor of fruity soda on your lips.

Your parents interrogated you the moment you woke up. At least, they tried to before the doctor forced them out after seeing the panic that filled you. Even after all the pain you’d been through, there was the worst feeling - as if something had been ripped from you. The doctor asked you questions, and you answered them, uncertain at your own answers.

Everything just seemed so empty now.

That’s when it clicked. The SQUIP was gone.

Holy shit.

Christine was the first one to see you, carrying sunflowers and chocolate that she sneaked in for you. She sat at the end of your bed and told you everything - including the story of Rich setting a fire the night of Jake’s Halloween party, and then promised she’d swing by before she left since Rich was somewhere and deserved some cheering up. You could really see why Jeremy liked her.

Michael came by a few days later. He told you he’d bring Jeremy next time he came before asking - or, demanding an explanation. So you told him everything. Every last bit - and he was rightfully pissed at the notion of you using him for Jeremy.

But he kept his word, and practically shoved Jeremy into your hospital room. And apparently, he told Jeremy everything.

“Look... Jeremy, before you say anything-”

“I’m not mad. I mean, I am, but-”

“I fucked up. I know, I’m sorry, I just-” You shut your eyes, trying to avoid crying.

“[y/n], listen.” He paused, taking a deep breath, “you could have talked to me. Maybe... we can be friends?”

It was quiet, but he still said it. You weren’t sure whether he meant it or whether he was saying it just to make you feel better. His hand was on yours, and you looked up.

“Promise we can try?” You croaked and you sweore your body was fighting against you - he’s lying he’s lying he’s lying he would never be your friend, not after what you did-

“We can try. I promise.”

#bean writes things #be more chill #be more chill reader insert #be more chill x reader #bmc #bmc reader insert #bmc x reader #jeremy heere x reader #i guess i should... also tag this for anyone who uh needs it #abuse tw #manipulation tw #idk what else but if i need to tag it as anything else please please please tell me

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