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lmvari · 1 month ago

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TAGLIST @neigesprincess @koiromii @mi4uki @yomishen @bittersweetmiko @vodkaredbullsblog @hhhana0 @glitteringhalo @lyzisbitchingagain @meikstv @sunjinjo @yelwo @suzueuieeeee @p4rkcha3w0n @thegalaxyisunfolding @chxrrybitez

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⟳ 38. EPILOGUE

You don’t feel hurt seeing the message that once used to gut you.

My place?

It used to mean uncertainty. Ambiguity. A line you kept walking even when it cut into your soles. But now, it just makes your heart flutter, because you trust him. Kuni wouldn’t hurt you like that anymore. Not after everything he’s done to prove otherwise.

You grab your bag and rush down the stairs of your apartment, only to pause at the sight waiting for you at the curb.

His car.

Parked just outside, his car waits, headlights soft, engine quietly humming. You blink, surprised, heart tugging at how this still feels new. Back then, one of the things that marked the line between you was how he used to leave you to yourself. Made you come over alone, go home alone. But now, he’s always there. Picking you up. Driving you home.

Like it’s second nature. Like it matters to him.

He steps out and rounds the front of the car, one hand holding a bouquet of soft pink and ivory flowers. You laugh a little in disbelief, walking up to him.

“What is this all about?” you giggle, raising a brow as you take the bouquet from his hand.

He smiles gently. “Just get in the car.”

He opens the passenger door for you, a quiet, thoughtful gesture you still haven’t gotten used to. You slip inside, brushing your fingers over the petals, inhaling their faint sweetness as he shuts the door behind you and gets in the driver’s seat.

You glance at him sideways. “We’re not really going to your place, are we?”

You worry for a second because you’re only in your pajamas and an oversized shirt, barefaced with not a trace of makeup. Hardly restaurant-appropriate. But then you see him leaning against the car in a hoodie and joggers, just as casual, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He shakes his head once, eyes on the road. “No, we are.”

You furrow your brow. “Really?”

A sly smile tugs at his lips. “You’ll see.”

The drive is quiet, but not awkward. Music plays softly in the background. His hand brushes over yours on the center console for a fleeting second before he pulls it away, like he’s thinking too much about it. You notice, and it makes your chest ache in the best way.

When you arrive, you’re expecting the usual. the building, the elevator, the familiarity of his apartment.

But as he opens the door and lets you in first, your breath hitches.

Rose petals are scattered across the floor, leading a trail deeper into the room. Soft golden candlelight flickers from every surface, along the counters, the bookshelves, the coffee table, casting a warm, amber glow over everything. The air smells like something rich and home-cooked.

Your eyes follow the trail to the dining area, where a small table is set for two. Two plates, two silverware, a folded napkin at each seat, and a pair of wine glasses already filled halfway. The table is adorned with small candles, more petals, and food that looks too good to be homemade.

You turn to Kuni, stunned, and find him looking at you with a barely-there nervousness in his eyes, so subtle you’d miss it if you didn’t know him like this. Like someone truly soft, someone unsure, someone who feels.

You tease, voice light, “What is all this?”

“It’s a late dinner date.” He clears his throat, looking mildly embarrassed, cheeks tinged pink. “Just before we graduate. I was going to take you to a restaurant, but I’ve already taken you to a lot. Figured this would mean more.”

You step closer, touched. “I didn’t expect you to go all out like this.”

He shrugs with that slight awkwardness you adore, not quite meeting your eyes. “Ajax helped with some stuff,” he admits. “But I cooked. And bought everything.”

Your heart skips. Literally skips. The warmth in your chest is too much to contain, and for a second, you forget how to breathe.

He moves to pull out a chair for you, visibly awkward about it. He tries to play it off nonchalantly. You giggle at how embarrassed he looks, like this sort of thing doesn’t come naturally to him. And it doesn’t, which only makes it sweeter. You can’t help but think Ajax or maybe even Kaz coached him on how to act like a gentleman.

He settles into his own seat after, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“I’m not really dressed for a night like this,” you admit, glancing down at your pajamas.

“Neither of us are. You’re pretty either way,” he says without hesitation.

Somehow, thinking about it now, a fancy homemade dinner, shared in hoodies and pajamas, feels more romantic than any of the dressed-up dates you’ve ever been on.

The two of you begin to eat, conversation flowing easily. Familiar, yet charged with something new. It feels special. Different.

And for the first time, you’re tasting his cooking. Looking at the small cuts and fresh bandages on his hands, your heart swells just thinking about the effort behind it.

Toward the middle of the meal, you catch him watching you, his expression soft, unreadable, like there’s something sitting heavy on his tongue. You lower your fork and ask, gently,

“Why did you really prepare all of this?”

He exhales, like he’s been holding it in.

“We’re graduating,” he starts. “We’re about to get pulled in different directions. Jobs. Deadlines. Life.” He pauses, fingers tightening around his glass. “But I’m damn sure about you. I don’t want to let go now that I finally…” he trails off.

He shakes his head, as if resetting.

“[Name],” he speaks more confidently. “I want to be with you, wherever you go. I’ll support you, even if I suck at saying it.”

Your heart is screaming, thudding so loud it drowns out everything else.

“I hope everything I’ve done up until now is enough to back this up.”

He finishes in a softer tone, “I love you.”

You blink.

It’s the second time he’s ever said it to you directly. The first was sudden, raw, and emotional. This time, it’s more intentional. Steady.

Nothing but utter sincerity.

And before you can even speak, he stands and steps around the table. He pulls something from his pocket: a small velvet box.

Your lips part.

“Kuni…”

He opens it to reveal a delicate necklace—simple, elegant, with a small charm shaped like a feather. A promise necklace.

“We started off messy,” he states. “I was difficult. I still am. But if you’ll have me anyway… I want this. I want to make this work.”

“Do you?” he asks. He searches your eyes for an answer.

You stare at him, eyes stinging. Your fingers curl around the box as he holds it out, and you try to speak, but your voice catches in your throat.

Because this is what you wanted. Always.

Back then, you would’ve killed for a sliver of his affection. You dreamed about being wanted like this. Soft. Pure.

You told yourself not to hope, and yet, here you are.

And it’s real. And he’s real. And he’s trying.

You let out a laugh, watery and disbelieving. He stiffens.

“What?” he asks carefully.

“Sorry,” you say, swiping a tear from your cheek. “It just… feels like I’m being proposed to.”

He pauses and registers what you said. Then he huffs a laugh under his breath, amusement curling at the edge of his lips.

“Sure, but not now.”

And then, almost shyly, he leans forward and presses a hesitant kiss to your hand.

You crumble.

You sit up and throw your arms around him. He stiffens in surprise for half a second before melting into you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck like he needs you to breathe.

You pull back just enough to look at him.

Then, you kiss him.

His body responds in reflex, having done this with you multiple times with you in the past. He holds your waist with his one hand and cups your cheek with the other.

It’s hungry, desperate, full of heat and warmth, but it’s something gentler than anything you’ve ever felt before. No lust. No recklessness. Just everything you never got to say, finally being said all at once, in silence.

When you finally break apart, you’re both out of breath. His lips are pink. His cheeks are flushed.

Neither of you say anything for a moment, too focused on catching your breaths.

Then,

“I assume,” he says, voice rasped, “that was a yes?”

You beeak out in a laugh, chest shaking, and smack his chest lightly.

“Asshole.”

And you’ve never meant it more affectionately in your life.

⟳ BLURRED LINES — PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

You say you’re just friends. You say it every time you leave a party together, every time you wake up tangled in sheets, every time you swear it’s the last time. But habits form, lines blur, and pretending gets harder when jealousy starts to sting.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

aaaand that’s a wrap :) From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU for reading Blurred Lines — especially to those who stuck around since the beginning :’)

Finishing this means a lot to me, as it’s my first completed full-length SMAU. It’s been a goal of mine to see an AU through, and I’m glad I finally did.

I hope my writing satisfied you, even just a bit. If it didn’t, that’s okay too! I can’t say I’m completely proud of how I wrote or handled certain parts, which admittedly made it hard to stay motivated. But your kind words and support helped me push through — and now we’re here :)

I’ll be taking a break from writing, but I’ll still post oneshots here and there when inspiration hits. Mostly self-indulgent stuff. I hope you’ll still be able to support me then. <3

Here’s a BONUS SMUT (R18+) as an ending gift! I’m not going to tag you all since there may be readers that are minors. So only read it if you’re comfortable.

If you have any questions, thoughts, disappointments, ideas, etc. that you want to say, FEEL FREE TO SEND AN ASK!

TAGLIST @joiurz @sketcheeee @mywillt0live @kyouzki @ylapsha45 @eternallykira-143 @bananasquash @kunikissr @swivi @ariesloves @lloversss @b-bbytears @kokoscutie @vi0let-writes @tomsishere @franaby @scaraenthusiast1 @iloveescara @usagiarchive @ilovecats-26 @quiechee @snetr @axquella @tatsuomii @lalalaloveallmydays @liyahbug @feiherp @jinjjjia @automaticpatroltragedy @mysterypotatoink @zuhahearts @adres-tia @ssetsuka @strwbrrybbpop @sesamemin @blvdmrcnry @aspinny @jiminscarmex @sammybeefangirls @lxkeeeeee @yu-yumii @linasxoxo @quiet-place-for-thoughts @randomhumans-blog @aaudreys @lesbi-snail @jayzioxx @meowpmzai @s-f-rants @cosmic-rainestorm @honey-and-sweetdreams @vincelikestomince @mono-dontidae @simeonmybabygirlicious @gugumioooo [50/50]

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lmvari · 1 month ago

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⟳ BLURRED LINES — BONUS (R18+)

The two of you fall into silence after another burst of laughter, breaths syncing, shoulders still brushing. You meet his gaze, and there’s something gentle there. Something settled. Something burning just beneath the surface.

He’s finally yours. For good, this time.

As you stare into his eyes, the world fades. Just the two of you, silently lost in each other. You lean in at the same time, like magnets finally giving in.

The kiss begins soft, tentative. A quiet question lingering between your lips, as if you’re both asking is this okay?

His hand slides to your lower waist, grounding you gently, while your fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie. But it’s you who leans in first, who lets go of restraint. You tilt your head and deepen the kiss, your mouth moving with slow, deliberate hunger.

Your teeth graze his lower lip in a teasing bite, bold and breathless, and he exhales like he’s been waiting for this.

And just like that, the dam breaks.

The kiss turns desperate. Heated. His mouth slants over yours with need, tongue slipping past your lips as you gasp. His hand tilts your chin up, deepening it, and your whole body tilts with him like you’d give anything to get closer.

You feel his palm at your waist, sliding under your shirt to touch bare skin. You shiver. Your fingers thread into his hair, tugging slightly, and he groans into your mouth—low, guttural.

His lips never leave yours as he presses you back against the wall, his body flush against yours, and suddenly you’re both touching, gripping, chasing friction.

A weak moan slips from you, breathless against his lips. He responds by dragging his mouth down your jaw, along your throat, licking over your pulse until you’re squirming, arching into him.

Bumping on furniture, you both stumble toward the bedroom, still tangled in each other, kisses never breaking. His hand is firm at your back, guiding you, until suddenly, he just lifts you up like it’s easy.

You yelp, caught off guard, but your laughter is muffled when he sets you down gently on the bed and climbs over you, caging you in.

Then he pauses.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks, voice low, breath hot against your skin.

You blink up at him. The Kuni you first met never asked things like this. The Kuni now… looks almost shy asking it. It’s a different kind of heat that curls in your stomach.

You let out a quiet, amused breath, laughing softly — but it’s warm, hot even, like you’re teasing him and praising him all at once.

“Just fuck me,” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips.

That lights something up in his eyes. Hunger. But more than that. Something possessive.

His mouth finds yours again, rougher this time, and his hands are everywhere. One cradles the back of your head, the other explores your waist, up under your shirt. You can feel the tremble in his fingers like he’s holding back.

He trails feathery kisses down your jaw, to your neck, sucking just under your ear. You gasp, then whimper, your hand shooting up to grab a handful of his hair and tug. He grunts against your skin, then bites lightly, earning another moan from you.

He pulls back only to lift your shirt. You raise your arms for him, and he yanks it off, tossing it behind him without looking. His lips are on yours again the second it’s gone.

His fingers work quickly, skillfully, at your back. You barely notice the movement before your bra loosens and slips away too.

He stops. Just for a second.

His eyes roam your bare chest, half-lidded, hungry, but not just with lust.

It’s affection. Awe. As if he’s seeing you for the first time again.

He exhales, almost shakily, and dips his head back down, trailing feather-light kisses over your collarbone. Then lower. Around the swell of your breast, soft, reverent.

You’re already trembling by the time he finally wraps his lips around your nipple.

You cry out, fingers tangling deeper in his hair. His tongue flicks slow, lazy circles at first, then rougher, wetter. He sucks, hard enough to make your back arch, and you feel his other hand move, pinching and rolling your other nipple between his fingers before switching sides, giving the other breast the same attention.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly, breath hitched and messy, the room echoing with your sounds and the quiet, wet suck of his mouth.

And all the while, his hand trails lower.

From your stomach to the waistband of your pajamas. Fingers slip beneath the fabric, finding the soft lace of your underwear. He doesn’t move further yet.

He just cups you over it and groans lowly at the heat he finds.

“God,” he breathes, kissing the swell of your breast again, “you’re soaked.”

You whimper as he moves his light fingers in a circling motion, slow and steady. You feel your hips rise, seeking more friction, chasing the rhythm. He latches his mouth on your tit once more, licking and sucking, but you can feel the smirk against your skin when your moan turns into something louder, needier.

“Still gets this wet for me, huh?” he murmurs smugly.

You glare at him through your haze, cheeks burning.

He just grins, and slides his fingers lower.

You squirm beneath his touch, heat blooming under your skin as his hands glide down your sides, slow and sure. Kuni’s eyes track every movement, dark and heavy with desire as he pulls your pajamas and underwear down in one smooth motion, sliding them past your legs and off the bed.

His breath hitches at the sight of you—open, ready, and already soaked for him.

He licks his lips unconsciously, like he’s starving, and drags his fingers lightly from your lower belly down, grazing over your most sensitive spot.

You let out a choked sound, hips twitching toward his hand on instinct.

Without a word, he slides two fingers into your drenched cunt. Confident, practiced, familiar.

You gasp, walls clenching around him, head tilting back as he finds that spot instantly.

Of course he does. He always knew your body like it was his own.

His thumb moves slow, maddening circles on your clit as his fingers work deeper.

You reach for the sheets with one hand, the other flying up to your mouth to stifle the moan rising in your throat.

He watches you with open hunger, voice dropping to something low and rough. “Do you know how much I missed this sight, hmm?”

“F-Fuck, I…” You can barely form words. The pleasure is overwhelming. Your voice breaks when his fingers pick up speed, and the moan that escapes you is too loud to hide.

“What was that?” he teases, lips curling into a smug grin. “Let me hear you, pretty.”

The bastard.

You glare at him through hazy eyes, unable to form a proper comeback.

“I—n-need you, now—ah!”

But just when you’re on the brink—just when that high is about to crest—he pulls his fingers out of you.

You whimper, the sudden emptiness making your chest rise and fall with ragged breaths.

He grins, satisfied, and lifts his hand to his mouth. You watch, dazed, as he licks his fingers clean, slow and deliberate.

“You…” you manage to breathe out, utterly wrecked.

“Not yet, doll,” he murmurs, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand. “Be patient for me, yeah?”

You shoot him a frustrated look, which only makes him chuckle under his breath.

He shifts lower, lifting your legs gently over his shoulders, and presses light, teasing kisses along the inside of your thighs.

The anticipation makes your skin buzz, your breath hitching every time his lips get closer.

And when his mouth finally meets your pulsing heat, it’s like falling apart all over again.

A single, languid lick.

A kiss, so soft and tender, before his pace changes. In no time, he devours you like it’s his last meal. Like a rabid animal starved for days.

Your back arches, your legs tighten around his neck, fingers digging on his shoulders, and your moans tumble freely now, unfiltered, raw. You can’t stop them even if you tried.

And just when you think it can’t get more intense, he adds his fingers again—slow and deep, perfectly in sync with the rhythm of his tongue.

As if not satsified, he picks up the pace. His tongue flicking in rapid motions, fingers curling and reaching the depths of your tight hole.

It’s too much. You’re spiraling, overwhelmed, body trembling as the coil inside you finally snaps.

You scream out, louder than you meant to, as the wave crashes over you.

You squirt all over his face, like a dam wall breaking.

Kuni doesn’t stop.

He stays with you through it all, anchoring you, savoring every sound, every shiver. He laps up your juices, making sure not a single drop is wasted.

His mouth never leaves you until you’re gasping and limp beneath him, your heartbeat thudding against your ribs like a drum.

He looks up with glistening lips and a satisfied smirk, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before kissing the inside of your shaking legs.

Your body is still trembling from the aftershocks when Kuni leans back, giving you space to breathe.

He doesn’t speak as he strips off his shirt. You can see the shape of his length pressing hard against his sweatpants, unmistakable even through the fabric.

He leaves them on for just a second longer—like he knows the sight is driving you crazy—then dips his thumbs into the waistband.

When he pulls them down, your breath catches. There it is: thick, hard, and angry.

A rush of heat pools in your stomach, but with it comes a flicker of something else. Possessiveness. Jealousy, even. You didn’t mind it back then, but now that he’s yours, the thought that other girls have seen this, felt this, twists sharply in your chest.

You sit up on the bed, desire sharpening with frustration. He sees it in your eyes and smirks.

“Kneel for me, pretty.”

Your body reacts before your mind can argue. You slip off the bed and drop to your knees in front of him like instinct, like need. He stands tall, looming over you, positioning himself right in front of your lips.

Then, without warning, his cock pushes past your lips and into the back of your throat.

You gasp at his length, your throat adjusting to the intrusion. He makes you take him whole.

He holds your head just long enough to make you choke and squirm, then pulls back out, letting his dick glisten with your spit.

He admires your lust clouded face beside his cock, rubbing it softy on your lips and cheeks before loosening his grip, a silent command for you to continue on your own.

You get your revenge slowly, licking from the base to the tip in deliberate strokes, taking your time. He groans above you, the sound strained.

“Keep going,” he mutters, voice hoarse.

You obey. You wrap your mouth around him again and begin a rhythm—forward, back, forward—hand stroking what you can’t take in.

He hisses and mutters curses under his breath, hips twitching slightly with restraint.

“Fuck… look at you,” he grits out. “All pretty, taking me so well. Such a slut for me, hm?”

You moan in response, the vibration pulling another rough sound from his throat.

But before long, he pulls away and grabs you by the waist, hauling you back onto the bed. His hands are rough with urgency as he positions you, then sits back on his heels, stroking himself slowly, gaze fixed on your body sprawled beneath him.

With one hand still wrapped around himself, he reaches for the drawer beside his bed without looking, eyes never leaving yours.

He finds the condom, slowly tears it open with his teeth, like he’s savoring the tension just before he gives in completely. Then, he rolls it on in one smooth motion

“You ready, pretty?”

You glare at him, breathless and already aching. “Just put it inside, damn it.”

That earns you a laugh. “As you wish.”

Then, he’s sinking into you.

His large cock penetrates your tight walls, slow, deep, and filling. He fits snug inside your pussy.

The stretch makes your back arch and a gasp tears from your lips. You crumple the sheets beneath you as you moan. He groans, head tilting back slightly, jaw clenched tight.

“F-fuck,” he mutters. “Missed this. Missed you.”

He stills inside you for a moment, like he’s trying to keep control, trying not to finish too soon. But when he starts to move, it’s with the rhythm you’ve always loved—measured at first, then gradually faster, deeper, harder.

His hand sneaks down to your clit, rubbing circles in time with each thrust. Your body reacts instantly, trembling again, pulling him deeper.

The room fills with the sound of skin slapping, breathy moans, soft curses—music only the two of you know.

“Kuni,” you cry out, voice broken.

He groans your name back, like it grounds him. He leans forward and to your ear.

“Say it again. Say my name, doll.”

“Kuni—fuck—right there!”

Your voice breaks, your nails dig into his back, and the pressure inside you finally snaps.

You cry out as you come, vision blurring, body curling in on itself. He follows seconds later, hips stuttering as he spills inside you, gasping into the crook of your neck.

The clock on his wall ticks. For a while, there’s only the sound of your mingled breathing, sweat cooling on your skin.

Then, with a faint laugh, he murmurs, “Another round?”

You shake your head, too tired to form full thoughts. The exhaustion finally hits. “We still have graduation today,” you mumble, lips curling into a sleepy smile. “I don’t wanna receive my diploma with eyebags.”

Kuni grunts and nods, rolling over beside you, pulling you into his arms. Despite the drowsiness, your pulse quickens. This is the first time the two of you cuddled after sex.

It dawns on you again.

Oh yeah. We’re dating now.

Hesitantly, you curl against him, limbs tangled, heart slowing as his scent enters your senses.

After a moment of silence, you break it with a teasing comment. “I thought you’d change in bed after all this time.”

He hums lazily in response. “Change how?”

“I don’t know… Since we’re official and all, I thought you’d be gentle and say something cheesy like ‘let me make love to you.’”

He scoffs, nuzzling into your hair. “Did I not make love to you?”

You laugh quietly. “Well, I definitely feel loved.”

He kisses your forehead then, soft and uncharacteristically tender. One of his hands cups the back of your head, holding you close.

Neither of you speaks again.

Morning comes with two bodies tangled in warm sheets.

And for the first time since you met, he doesn’t leave the bed.

He stays, arms around you, eyes soft, smiling because he finally found no reason to run.

⟳ BLURRED LINES — MASTERLIST | PLAYLIST

NOTE for those wondering why there’s no smut in a fwb smau, well here it is… PLS BE KIND this is like my first time writing proper smut!!! don’t read if it’s too cringey for you.. i’m, by all means, no pro-smut writer 😓

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche smau #wanderer smau #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #smut

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