Jello! First time asker here I'm a bit nervous
Could I ask for a sort of sequel to that Jamil nsfw fic? It doesn't have to be smut I just wanna see more of the dynamic of those two
If not, that's alright. Love your writing so so so much, take care (แต แต แต)
Hello, tyy!! No need to be nervous <33 Ngl Iโm kind of surprised lol I wrote the Jamil fic in a bit of a rush but Iโm glad you liked it !! But I just feel like I have to make this clear: I do NOT support what the reader is doing here at all !! This is a clear example of a destructive and detrimental relationship to both parties involved.
Your hand lingered on the door before finally bringing it down to knock on the door before you. You stood outside of one a vacant room in Scarabia, obediently following Jamil's words from the day before. Well, almost. That aching in your hips and legs really couldn't care less about the homework, but they couldn't stop thinking about that state of bliss from the night before. His face, his grip on you, even all the harsh and underhanded comments. His words resounded in your ears, giving you hope for a second chance.
Your mouth curves into a coy smile as Jamil opens the door. His eyes still narrowed at your figure, but amidst all the contempt, a glint remained. He was open to you. Although his eyes seemed to have some discerning hope for this evening, his words were still sharp.
"I see you actually look presentable today," His eyes swept you up and down.
"Just so you know, none of what happened yesterday will repeat itself today. I strictly mean what I said yesterday."
"Mhm." You hum, making your way inside the spare room. You can feel Jamil's stare on your back, but you continue regardless.
The room was neat and orderly, just as you remember it from your previous stays at Scarabia. You noticed a couple of papers and a notebook sitting on the desk, along with two floor cushions. Despite everything, he still had the consideration to bring all these things along. Jamil joins you on the floor with a sigh. The both of you sat in silence, not really sure how to begin to break the tension in the air.
"Doesn't this remind you of that one party?" You spoke up, looking at Jamil's changing expression.
Both of your minds wandered to a few months ago. Neither of you were strangers to Scarabia's uproarious parties, and this one was no different from the usual frenzy that they are known for. You'd usually stick around Kalim and your friends, but maybe it was the constant rounds of alcohol coming in, you found yourself in the arms of someone you barely knew. Through your drunken haze, you could vaguely make out the face of Scarabia's concerned vice housewarden.
Jamil was thrown off when you had opened the door stumbled into him while he was arranging one of the vacant rooms. He never really talked to you, but you were right here, practically falling on top of him and slurring your words. You really should get better friends. But he couldn't just leave you like this. Blackout drunk and vulnerable, the only magic-less student at an all-guys school. Putting his annoyance aside, he tried his best to tuck you into the bed he was making. Like a child, you giggled and snuggled up to him as the covers fell on you. Jamil grudgingly gave in to your actions, and despite his reservations, allowed you to use him as your pillow. He considered going outside to find Kalim, at least he'd be able to help you out and identify your friends, but every time he stood up you'd cling to him and chatter your inarticulate protests. Jamil had to wait until you fell asleep to practically pry himself away from your arms.
Months later now, the both of you find yourselves in the same room, surrounded by coarser circumstances, but an air of familiarity is able to clear the surface, at least.
"That was a long time ago now. There's no need to bring that up now." Jamil said without batting an eye, his gaze fixed on the paper in front of you both with neat handwriting. Frowning, you join him too. Jamil begins explaining the sheet's contents, but you aren't paying much attention. Your fists slowly clench the fabric over your legs as, to your surprise, guilt slowly converges on the pit of your stomach.
"Seriously? Were you listening to anything I said?" Jamil's irritated tone brings back your attention to the present situation. Jamil's face has grown bothered by now, but when you turned up at him, his face softened if not for only a second.
"You're clearly still stuck on that thought from earlier. So, out with it. Clearly, this won't get done until you've said everything you want to. " He sighed, crossing his arms looking at you with expecting eyes.
"I just," you begin, but struggle to find the right words. There are no right words to say. Everything you attempt to articulate is simply dishonest or forced.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is, I still care for you. " A twinge of embarrassment threatens to make you wince at that last sentence. You're perfectly aware of how you sound, you were never really good at these things.
"Oh, so you care? Is that what these past weeks have been about? Caring about anything that happened between us?" Jamil jeers.
His bitterness cuts into your sides, but what stings most of all is the truth and irony of his words. You had your cake and you wanted to eat it too. Months of exchanging glances in between classes, stolen kisses in the courtyard, and having nothing to show for it but casualness in front of others. Commitment wasn't made to last, so you had to indulge your fantasies as long as they were still tangible before moving on to the next ones. And yet now you find yourself face to face with that commitment, and it is almost comical that you want it back.
"I mean, really? You mean to tell me all of this wasn't deliberate? You know what you've been doing, and more than that, you knew what it would do to me. " Jamil almost cracks at the last sentence, before catching himself and averting his gaze. You had brought down his walls once before, and you were threatening to do it again. But that was the last thing you deserved; he couldn't allow himself.
Underneath his skin, he pulsed and throbbed. Muscle memory retained how consoling it felt to ease up and open up to you. The first to have perceived him as he was, bare and exposed. The first to have ever brought upon him such peaceful serenity for being seen. He was fighting against every fiber of his being that urged him to let you in. But he couldn't. Not again.
"No, you're right. What I did wasn't fair to you."
Jamil's narrow gaze slowly falls on you once more. Timidly, you dare to look directly at him.
"I know that it's too late for apologies now, but I don't regret spending these past months together with you. You've made me feel so many things at the same time that they make me think my head might burst. I know that my actions are unforgivable, but nothing I've shared with Azul or anyone else has even come close to what I had with you. I hope you know I really did love you, but I really fucked up. I'm sorry."
You stand up to leave, but a hand holds you down before you can begin to walk out. Jamil's slender fingers hold down your wrist with a firmness that speaks louder than words. Although his actions are unyielding, his eyes tremble and his expression is almost confused.
Jamil is unsure of why his hand reached out. Before he could process it, the warmth of your hand was in his, imploring you to stay. Your lips part in subtle surprise. He watches as you slowly sit back down, careful in your movements. Jamil is conflicted. You've ripped him apart at the seams, yet you're the only one who can stitch him back up because your hand is the only one to have mapped him out completely.
Without warning, your lips find themselves on his, shyly asking for reciprocation. And to your surprise, there is. You can sense an ardent desperation in him, different from the one the night before. His familiar taste is on your tongue now, and you can't help but relish every bit. This is what was missing. Jamil draws you in closer to him. You can look up to him as you're practically on his lap. Although his eyes are closed, you can see the complete surrender in them. The thrill from all those months ago resurges in you. As you sit there, you wonder how long this'll last again. Two months? Maybe four? Or will it all go up in smoke in less than a week? Either way, it isn't relevant as long as you reach the exhilaration you seek.
