Too Little
Part three of Jamil (not) dealing with feels here we go.
Jamil x reader, Jamil’s pov
Previous parts: part one, part two
This was stupid.
Here he was, rolling around in bed, unable to sleep because thoughts of you filled his mind.
It had been futile of Jamil to think that he could simply brush your presence aside, that he could treat you like just another schoolmate and not let you consume his mind.
Not when every quiet moment had him reach for his phone in hopes of a new message from you.
Not when you kept on finding new ways to make his heart skip a beat every time he saw you.
Not when he missed you more acutely every time you weren’t there.
So, despite his best efforts, his mind treaded those same paths, time and again, occupied by all the parts of you. Your expressions, your mannerisms, your words, every single detail committed to this memory and played over and over.
He suspected that at this point he’d be able to recreate most of your expressions just from memory. Your voice, too, playing so clearly in his mind.
Not to even mention those oh so tantalizing what ifs, supplying him with even sweeter temptations than the confines of reality and memory could provide.
What it would feel like to touch you, to hold you, to kiss you, to-
No. No no no. He would not go there.
Jamil could feel the heat burning in his cheeks and he rolled over, groaning into his pillow.
This was ridiculous. Absolutely preposterous.
Yet, there was no getting out of it.
He wanted you.
He wanted more of you, so much more than what he had.
Because each taste of you left him craving more, each glimpse made him want to uncover everything there was to you.
Even the parts you might consider ugly, as sappy as that was.
What kind of people did you like, anyway?
Charming? Intelligent? Funny?
Rich and influential?
Did you even like guys? Or relationships in general?
Just the thought - relationship - made Jamil's cheeks burn even brighter, made his legs twitch under the covers.
Yet, somehow, it did not sound so bad.
To have you.
To be yours.
To know and be known.
He huffed and turned over onto his back.
As if his duties left room for something for himself, left enough of him to share with someone like that.
And would you like what you saw in him, anyway?
Yet, his excuses were beginning to sound more and more hollow.
After all, he was nothing if not resourceful, and so far you’d shown no signs of shying away, even as you dug your way deeper.
Jamil stared at the canopy over his bed with unseeing eyes.
He’d have to do something about this.
Because if he didn’t, he might just lose his mind.
But was the alternative any better? Could he even handle it? The full force of you, if - and it was a big if - you were to accept him.
Even now, when you looked at him in that particular way of yours… He never could hold your eyes for long when that happened. The softness and the warmth he saw were far too overwhelming, always forcing him to turn away lest he made a complete fool of himself.
If he were to have that, with the full force of affection intention behind it… How could he even bear it?
Like the other day… You’d found Jamil in the middle of his chores and dragged him away, his to-do list crumbling when you grabbed his hand and led him outside.
He was all too aware of how his protests had been half-hearted at best. How your sudden appearance, your touch had shut down every sensible part of him, leaving him unpleasantly raw.
And by the time he’d gathered himself, nearly convinced himself he had other things he should be doing instead, you were sharing ice creams outside Sam’s, to celebrate the first warm day of the year.
As if it wasn’t warm in Scarabia year round.
As if he hadn’t been too preoccupied by your happiness and enthusiasm to bring himself to heel.
Sometimes, it was all he could do not to be swept away by you, barely keeping his head above the surface.
So, what choice did he have but to act?
You’d made a home in his heart already, whether he asked for it or not.
All he could do was take control of what he could.
Oh dear I'm starting to get tempted to write this from the reader's pov as well.
Or maybe I'll just have to ramble about the thought process behind this at some point to get that out of my system.
I also considered going to a more horny direction with this but decided to go with this kind of yearning in the end. But, if the horny version is of interest for y'all, maybe I can do that as an alternative / supplementary thing to this series, or some sort of a standalone at some point.
Hope y'all enjoyed! One or two more parts are still to come.
Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist
@mazapanmiau @perilous-pasta @twstgo
If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, do let me know! Also feel free to specify if you only want tags for particular kinds of works (like sfw/nsfw for example).
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I know everyone already figured this probably but I hadn't paid attention before to when beej exactly takes his coat off and I was curious, so I'm pleased to report that he left it somewhere in the kitchen
not to mention he is briefly alone with adam in the kitchen while he was there getting the stuff for the sandwich
leaving aside my contemplation about how beej cannot affect the world of the living so those aren't coke, popcorn and 3d glasses he found in their house (probably manifested them himself the same way he takes the coat off. possibly from his mary poppins ass jacket, like with the mic) I like to think that he thought about getting them so he could snack alongside them, other than the obvious "upcoming show aka their death" use, not to mention the fact itself that he takes his coat off makes it feel like the mait's house is his as well, since you usually do it when you arrive home.
hell, I think he doesn't even need a coat whatsoever and just
started doing the "taking it off when I'm home" ritual because he saw adam doing it.
and in general I love this whole beginning part where he just acts like their house is his own, goes into their other rooms to do who knows what (first alone to the left then with adam in the kitchen), sits on their furniture like he owns the place, knows it like the back of his hand
actually I get the feeling that despite the fact he sat down first, he's also imitating adam here, like it's something the guy does all the time so beetlejuice has the whole thing memorized by now. but that's just speculation anyway.
I just get sad because I think he was really excited to meet them and already knew them really well, like he's not lying when he calls them friends, he's known them intimately for 10+ years (and, yes, it's been very creepy). he's lived with them and gotten used to this warm sitcom-y feel and then when they actually meet him they're terrified. Rightfully so but, ouch.
like, nothing goes like he planned right from the start, not just because they're not scary (and I mean, his whole plan was... to have them scare the new house inhabitants into saying his name? and then what? great plan beetleboose great thinking ahead there, a mastermind really), but because they didn't just magically act like his new best friends like he hoped and probably made up in his mind for all those years 😵💫
I mean, for all his solitude... the guy totally talks to himself. all the time. that is just a given to me. even besides the clones, the hand thing in say my name, the soliloquy, the guy probably had full fledged conversations. I can hardly imagine how many times he fantasized about talking to the maits for the first time in very elaborate scenarios in his head not to mention participated to all their conversations in the same way he does in this beginning segment and basically took it for granted that they'd enjoy his company same way he enjoys theirs, that is to say, the idealized version of their company he created in his head. siiigh, I love this whole part a lot, you can tell.
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