~Watching From a Distance: Squip x reader x Jeremy~

~𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 1-

Y/n POV

I took a deep breath, letting my focus go entirely to the pixelated screen in front of me. My fingers naturally pressed the combo of buttons, wiping out wave after wave of zombies.

Making a half-hearted attempt to follow my lead, Jeremy smashed random buttons whenever the undead approached us. Like usual, he was the first one to die.

Jeremy, in a fit of rage, threw his controller down on the carpeted floor. "This is stupid," He muttered, "How are we supposed to beat this dumb game if Y/n is the only one who ever survives?"

Michael, daring to take his intense gaze off of the screen for a half-second, replied, "To be fair, she has taught you the combos and tricks, but you still refuse to listen."

A half-smile unknowingly slipped on my lips. "That's true. What did you say to me last weekend?" I asked, loving the irritated glare Jeremy was giving me out of the corner of my eye. " 'I don't need any tips, I'm just naturally good,'" I mocked, making sure to make my voice high and flamboyant.

Jeremy rolled his eyes and grabbed the bowl of mixed chips in-between us. Michael eyed Jeremy wearily. "Don't get any Cheeto dust on my controllers, Jeremy: I paid top dollar for them," he reminded. In the middle of his reminder, however, the zombies took advantage of his lack of attention and ganged up on him. His dark eyes widened in surprise and he automatically started to shoot back the zombies.

Jeremy, still irritated about our truthful statements against him, started to reach for his grounded controller, all the while having dust of Cheetos and Doritos coated on his fingers.

Michael glanced down, his eyes immediately darting to Jeremy's hand. He gasped and tackled Jeremy back on the couch, slamming his lanky body into mine. The forced caused the controller to fly out of my hands, leaving me to watch in anger as the few zombies that remained devour Michael and I.

I pushed myself off the couch and angrily turned towards the boys. "What was that about?" I asked, my glare freezing both of the boys in their positions. Jeremy was holding up one of Michael's prized Super Nintendo controllers while the Pilipino was trying to reach for it, ultimately failing due to his shorter arms.

"I told Jeremy to not touch my controllers with his nasty hands and he still did!" Michael whined, still reaching for the now-stained controller. "It's his fault we lost the game!"

Jeremy rolled off the couch and pushed himself up, leaving the controller abandoned on the ground. "Maybe if you guys didn't mock me for my lack of video game skills and maybe taught me how to play the game!" Jeremy spat, crossing his arms while kicking the controller gently towards Michael.

I internally groaned at how pathetic the whole argument was. "Guys, this is pettier than the drama on Dance Moms," I stated. I then turned to Jeremy and put a hand on his shoulder. "Jere, just apologize for staining Michael's controller and let's move on."

I could see his light brown eyes study me in a lighthearted manner. The hanging lights of the basement illuminated the sweat forming on his cheeks, making his face glossy and nervous. He moved his hand up and near my own cheek, but he stopped to look at his still-stained fingers and shoved his hand in his jean pocket instead, trying to play it off my giving me an awkward smile and turning towards Michael. I could see his lips drawn into a smirk as he dusted the controller off with his black shirt under his red, patch-covered hoodie.

"I-I'm sorry for, uh, messing with your controller," Jeremy mumbled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

Michael, letting his lips fall back into a neutral smile, shrugged and replied, "Eh, I suppose it's no biggie. But, as punishment, you have to help me clean this mess." Michael gestured to the chips that had spilled out of the bowl and were somewhat crushed on the carpet.