illu

writer. reader. click!

[illumeew]

i'm illu ! welcome to my blog <3

writer for genshin and jjk (more soon!) dms are closed / asks are open, qt! ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) for byi, socials, etc. → carrd

jjk m.list | genshin m.list

© illumeew 2025 all rights reserved | do not repost or distribute anywhere else :3

[illumeew]

still in the process of fleshing out the jjk smau, GOSH this is so tiring... i swear if i was still in my prime (which was, like, during the pandemic), i'd get this finished not even a week after i announced the smau

am i... old?

[illumeew]

nerd!gojo doesn't believe it when you think he's sexy while talking about biochemistry.

what even is sexy about biochemistry? your boyfriend would ask himself, then you. and honestly, you can't even answer that because it is totally not sexy at all. it just so happens that the metabolic pathways of the four fundamental biological macromolecules and whatnot are exiting from the pretty pink lips of the man of your dreams.

and you think. no. you know that that man is hot and sexy as fuck. and it's especially heightened when he's all up on carbohydrates.

"... so glucose would be converted into pyruvate through the process of glycolysis, right? then those two molecules of pyruvate will be oxidized to form acetyl coenzyme a—or acetyl-coa—which then enters the krebs cycle and- babe, are you even listening?"

you blink, startled. "yeah, i was- i was listening, toru." you give him the best 'i-swear-i'm-listening-to-you-and-not-ogling-your-muscles' smile you have.

satoru huffs, not really convinced but content enough, and goes back to the whiteboard where the process of whatever-that-is is drawn haphazardly. "so as i was saying, they'll enter the krebs cycle and produce nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide and..."

your eyes stay on the board for exactly three seconds before they start drifting to the side, your mind catching onto something else, until it lands back on satoru's bicep and the way it flexes with each pointed finger he makes to the board.

huh... you tilt your head to the side. when did he get that?

"...so both nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide and flavin adenine dinucleotide drive the electron transport chain which generates atp and gtp, and those two release energy for our bodies to use."

he sighs, then turns back to you with a small bounce, smiling. "you got all that, babe?"

oh, that's it.

your eyes, almost glazed over, move up to his. "yup, glucose turns into pyruvate then enters the mr. krabs cycle and makes nicotine add-on-the-nucleus-tide, whatever—"

you catch his wrist, pull him down, and pin him against the cushions of the couch, hovering over his lap.

he starts sputtering. "baby- babe, what are you do—"

"you said you make atp or gpt or whatever molecules to make energy, right?" you ask, biting your bottom lip, as you fully straddle him.

his eyes flicker below, before immediately going back up. he could feel his pants start to tighten.

"uh, uhm, y-yeah—"

you smirk, grinding just a tiny bit against the growing tent on his pants. a choked back moan reverberates against his throat.

"better get to making them then," you smile, trailing a finger down his chest. "you're gonna need it."

it's not his atp i want, it's his tp. haha get it. i study biochem btw.

[illumeew]

okay so... i'm in the process of writing a jjk smau for the FIRST TIME in my entire life !!! i felt like it was the right thing to start on knowing how busy my schedule can get so i don't have to feel required to finish it as early as i can

i'm sure you all are familiar with to all the boys i've loved before hehe, it's JUST like that with a few tweaks here and there to make your experience more diverse :33

[illumeew]

gojo x reader. unfortunately, no is not part of satoru gojo's vocabulary when it comes to you. (he's just really whipped)

cw. 17+ (they make out and stuff), subby-ish satoru at first???, first time writing like this LMAO, not proofread btw

"toru, please? just for a few minutes..."

satoru gojo, strongest sorcerer of his generation with the power to exorcise everything in his way with just one snap of his fingers, doesn't know why he's having a hard time saying no to you.

he has you pinned to the wall of a random building while the group was out doing whatever they were doing—not like he cared about that or anything. as long as he had you flush against him, nothing else mattered.

he's kept that mantra with him for as long as he can remember for the sake of being close to you... until you practically dragged him away from suguru and the others with the intention of making out up for lost time. which, believe him, you have never done before since getting together and making it official.

and he swears to all the gods out there watching them rendezvous behind a random building in tokyo—he wouldn't be able to hold back once his lips were on yours.

so he's trying to keep his composure while trying not to sweat his facial glands out—and the glands in his boxers too, may he add, which was a few "brushing-up-againsts" away from no return.

he swallows, trying his hardest not to pop an erection while you're oh so sweetly kissing his neck up to the harsh edge of his jaw.

"missed you sooo much, toru," you mumble into his neck, kissing where breath met skin. "that last mission was so draining. couldn't wait to go home to you."

you intentionally brush against his pelvis, and he almost instantly freezes.

he lets out a sound bordering between a moan and something choked, and you almost laugh at his attempts to try and muffle what left his pretty pink lips.

satoru's sense of control is almost about ready to denotate.

he steadies his hands on the wall behind you, head dipping down to meet your eyes, as he pulled his sunglasses down.

"baby, love of my life."

you swear his voice dropped a few tones down—it doesn't help quench the ache in between your thighs though. in fact, you squeeze them together just as much. that doesn't help either.

"don't start what you can't finish."

his face inches closer to yours until his forehead is flush against yours. a bead of sweat trickles down his temple as his hands move from the wall to your waist, squeezing lightly.

you give him a smile with all the sweetness of a saint,

"i can finish it... i always get the job done."

and the intentions of a sinner.

you bat your lashes at him. "i know you know that."

then, it's as if whatever thin thread of patience he had left snapped, he smashes his lips against yours in one swift motion.

you moan against him, wrapping your arms around him as if anchoring yourself to him. as if needing him.

his hands snake down your back, fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns on your sides as he deepens the kiss. a low chuckle vibrates against your lips as he pulls back just enough to say,

"you've never been this impatient, baby..."

you huff, playfully rolling your eyes. "don't like it?"

he smirks. "never said i didn't."

then his lips find yours again.

his grip tightens around your waist, pressing your body closer to his. the heat between you becomes undeniable as you feel something rigid rub against your clothed thighs.

"you feel that?" he groans into your ear. "what you do to me?"

you nod, fingers entangling in his white locks.

"yeah? tell me," he breathes against you, dragging his teeth lightly over your earlobe. "what's the first thing you want me to do to you when we get back home?"

his other hand slides lower, fingertips dipping just below the waistband of your pants.

"or should i just take what i want, hm?"

you whimper. just the mere thought of it sends a shiver down your spine.

the sun dances across his sharp features as he leans in, his voice dripping with mischief you never knew he had in him. he clicks his tongue, trailing a finger down your collarbone. "mmh, silence? guess that means i get to choose, sweetheart."

in one fluid motion, he scoops you up with one arm, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, as the other digs in his pocket for his flipphone.

he flicks it open and taps on it a few times—you're too dazed to really want to know what he's doing—then sharply brings his phone up to his slightly red lips.

the dial tone hums for a few seconds before the call comes through. you could barely hear a word from the other line before satoru speaks, almost in a hurried way.

"we're going home," he says into the receiver, then gives you a look. "i need to... do something."

he doesn't wait for a response before he closes the phone and shoves it back into his pocket. his hand finds its way back on the curve of your waist, squeezing lightly.

he closes the distance between you once more, teeth pulling at your lower lip before latching off.

despite his figure casting a shadow on you, you almost couldn't make out the smirk that plays on his face—playful yet dangerous.

"now, let's see how loud i can make you."

writing this was a breath of fresh air, lmk if u guys liked it :3

[illumeew]

gojo x reader. unfortunately, no is not part of satoru gojo's vocabulary when it comes to you. (he's just really whipped)

cw. 17+ (they make out and stuff), subby-ish satoru at first???, first time writing like this LMAO, not proofread btw

"toru, please? just for a few minutes..."

satoru gojo, strongest sorcerer of his generation with the power to exorcise everything in his way with just one snap of his fingers, doesn't know why he's having a hard time saying no to you.

he has you pinned to the wall of a random building while the group was out doing whatever they were doing—not like he cared about that or anything. as long as he had you flush against him, nothing else mattered.

he's kept that mantra with him for as long as he can remember for the sake of being close to you... until you practically dragged him away from suguru and the others with the intention of making out up for lost time. which, believe him, you have never done before since getting together and making it official.

and he swears to all the gods out there watching them rendezvous behind a random building in tokyo—he wouldn't be able to hold back once his lips were on yours.

so he's trying to keep his composure while trying not to sweat his facial glands out—and the glands in his boxers too, may he add, which was a few "brushing-up-againsts" away from no return.

he swallows, trying his hardest not to pop an erection while you're oh so sweetly kissing his neck up to the harsh edge of his jaw.

"missed you sooo much, toru," you mumble into his neck, kissing where breath met skin. "that last mission was so draining. couldn't wait to go home to you."

you intentionally brush against his pelvis, and he almost instantly freezes.

he lets out a sound bordering between a moan and something choked, and you almost laugh at his attempts to try and muffle what left his pretty pink lips.

satoru's sense of control is almost about ready to denotate.

he steadies his hands on the wall behind you, head dipping down to meet your eyes, as he pulled his sunglasses down.

"baby, love of my life."

you swear his voice dropped a few tones down—it doesn't help quench the ache in between your thighs though. in fact, you squeeze them together just as much. that doesn't help either.

"don't start what you can't finish."

his face inches closer to yours until his forehead is flush against yours. a bead of sweat trickles down his temple as his hands move from the wall to your waist, squeezing lightly.

you give him a smile with all the sweetness of a saint,

"i can finish it... i always get the job done."

and the intentions of a sinner.

you bat your lashes at him. "i know you know that."

then, it's as if whatever thin thread of patience he had left snapped, he smashes his lips against yours in one swift motion.

you moan against him, wrapping your arms around him as if anchoring yourself to him. as if needing him.

his hands snake down your back, fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns on your sides as he deepens the kiss. a low chuckle vibrates against your lips as he pulls back just enough to say,

"you've never been this impatient, baby..."

you huff, playfully rolling your eyes. "don't like it?"

he smirks. "never said i didn't."

then his lips find yours again.

his grip tightens around your waist, pressing your body closer to his. the heat between you becomes undeniable as you feel something rigid rub against your clothed thighs.

"you feel that?" he groans into your ear. "what you do to me?"

you nod, fingers entangling in his white locks.

"yeah? tell me," he breathes against you, dragging his teeth lightly over your earlobe. "what's the first thing you want me to do to you when we get back home?"

his other hand slides lower, fingertips dipping just below the waistband of your pants.

"or should i just take what i want, hm?"

you whimper. just the mere thought of it sends a shiver down your spine.

the sun dances across his sharp features as he leans in, his voice dripping with mischief you never knew he had in him. he clicks his tongue, trailing a finger down your collarbone. "mmh, silence? guess that means i get to choose, sweetheart."

in one fluid motion, he scoops you up with one arm, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, as the other digs in his pocket for his flipphone.

he flicks it open and taps on it a few times—you're too dazed to really want to know what he's doing—then sharply brings his phone up to his slightly red lips.

the dial tone hums for a few seconds before the call comes through. you could barely hear a word from the other line before satoru speaks, almost in a hurried way.

"we're going home," he says into the receiver, then gives you a look. "i need to... do something."

he doesn't wait for a response before he closes the phone and shoves it back into his pocket. his hand finds its way back on the curve of your waist, squeezing lightly.

he closes the distance between you once more, teeth pulling at your lower lip before latching off.

despite his figure casting a shadow on you, you almost couldn't make out the smirk that plays on his face—playful yet dangerous.

"now, let's see how loud i can make you."

writing this was a breath of fresh air, lmk if u guys liked it :3

[illumeew]

so i finally have the time to ACTUALLY write something, and i'm going to do that right now !!! i DID just get home from christmas vacation like a week ago so i'm still a little jet-lagged...

i finished reading this one series on tumblr and i REALLY liked it, so it kind of inspired me to venture out into more mature content (i'm literally in college, why am i even scared)... so i MIGHTTTT write one just like that except it'll just be short because i don't really know how i'll cope with writing something longer than that

also for those who stayed with me for summon me, baby! I PROMISE I WILL UPDATE OMFGGG I'M SO SORRY i legit forgot about it - expect chapter 19 soon !!!

[illumeew]

nanami x reader. nanami shares a quiet, loving life with you and yuji, your late older sister’s son. the time comes when he secretly plans to propose to you in the simple, honest way your little family deserves, but a grade two mission assigned to you disrupts his plan to propose. then, all hell breaks loose when a misclassification puts your life at risk, and nanami doesn't waste time.

a reupload of this, with parts two, three, four, and epilogue!

simple things (velvet box)

yuji’s laughter echoed through your apartment, his chopsticks and spoon clattering as he nearly dropped a piece of karaage.

“slow down,” you scolded, nudging him with your elbow. “kento’s going to choke just watching you.”

across the table from yuji, nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, though the faintest smile tugged at his lips. “itadori, your enthusiasm is admirable, but food tastes the same whether eaten at a reasonable pace or inhaled.”

yuji swallowed, grinning sheepishly, bits of rice decorating his face. “yeah, but your cooking’s too good to eat slow. besides, i have practice tomorrow, so it’s, like, carb-loading already!”

you rolled your eyes at his poor reasoning, but nanami chuckled low under his breath. “you’ve given him an excuse,” he murmured to you, tone dry.

you leaned close, whispering back, “he doesn’t need one. he’s just like how kaori was when we were kids. never knew how to sit still for long.”

nanami’s hand brushed yours beneath the table. “and yet,” he said softly, “he’s here with you. that’s enough, isn’t it?”

yuji looked between you two, blinking. “hey, are you guys whispering about me again? you’re not allowed to, y’know. that’s bad manners!”

“eat,” you said firmly, brows furrowed, voice fighting back a laugh.

nanami cleared his throat. “yes, finish what’s on your plate before you try to police conversations you’re not invited to.”

yuji groaned. “man, you two sound more like parents every day.”

his words were thrown out like it was a casual thing, but they lingered in you longer than it should have. and when you dared to look at nanami, you found his gaze on yours already, his expression unreadable.

later that night, after yuji had finally gone to bed after muttering about having chicken for dinner tomorrow, you curled up on the couch with nanami witht the dim, warm light of your lamp illuminating the area. his arm rested along the back cushion, close enough that his fingers brushed your shoulder.

“you’re good with him,” you said, your voice softer now that the apartment was quiet. “better than you think you are.”

nanami shook his head, leaning closer to you. “i’m not. he deserves more than i can give him.”

at his words, you turned to face him, frowning. “kento. he adores you. you’re… you’re the steady rock when i’m not. you’re the reason he still… laughs like that.”

at the thought of yuji laughing, a small smile festers on your face. nanami’s hand found yours, his thumb tracing over your knuckles.

“i only ever wanted to make things easier for you,” he admitted. “for both of you.”

“you already do.” you squeezed his hand, heart swelling at how sincere he looked. “don’t you get it? you’re part of his life now, ken—part of my life even more. you’ve been part of it longer than he’s been a student in tokyo.”

something flickered in his eyes at that, but he made no mention of it and instead leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering slightly when he feels your face warm up.

and later still, when you finally fell asleep curled against him, nanami stood by the window with a small velvet box hidden in his pocket. the dim, warm light of your living room lamp flickered against his glasses as he breathed through the nerves the thoughts in his mind give him.

he had never been one for grand gestures. he doubted you’d want one anyway. what you had built together didn’t need anything big, he knew. it was already strong enough.

he imagined pulling the ring out in a fancy restaurant somewhere in tokyo, maybe under chandeliers that probably cost more than what his corporate job paid and probably as much as gojo’s overwhelming daily spendings. maybe between wine glasses and full course meals. he’d be careful as to not spill anything on your outfit, all perfect-looking, when he gets down on one knee and the people around watch in awe.

he also imagined pulling the ring out tomorrow morning, maybe over coffee while yuji complained about school. maybe while you teased him for reading the paper like an old man. he’d be careful as to not spill anything on your pajamas, because he’d rather you spend the day relaxing than washing off spilled coffee on your shirt.

simple, honest—exactly like the love that had grown between you.

nanami glanced toward yuji’s closed door, then back to you where you slept peacefully on the couch. he leaned forward to adjust your crooked neck on the pillow before pushing some of your hair back with his thumb.

he smiled, yes, and thought, brushing his other thumb over the ring box in his pocket. they’ll say yes.

simple, still

you thought today wasn’t any different than the others the moment you woke up. warm light spilled through translucent curtains, yuji’s laughter echoed from the kitchen, syncing with the sizzle of the stove as kento, with his sleeves rolled up the way you liked them, flipped eggs like he did every morning when he wasn’t called out for work.

you leaned against the counter, tugging the collar of your uniform up halfway. “you’re up early,” you said, teasing. “trying to one-up me before my mission?”

he glanced back over his shoulder, lips curving faintly. “just making sure you don’t leave without breakfast. bad habits tend to reflect poorly on the people around you.”

you huffed. “you sound like ijichi.”

“i sincerely hope not,” he retorted, a small laugh leaving him—one that eased the edge of nerves in your stomach.

you’d been briefed the day before. it was just a routine exorcism; grade two at most. you thought, nothing you—a semi-grade one sorcerer—couldn’t handle.

but still… something about it felt off.

yuji tumbled his way into the room, already dressed in his uniform, a piece of toast between his teeth. “you’re heading to a mission today, right? you’ll be fine! you always are.”

you smiled, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “that’s the plan.”

nanami set two plates on the table, one in front of yuji and one for you. though, you barely took a bite. the clock was ticking, and the mission site was halfway across tokyo.

when you stood to grab your coat, nanami followed. he didn’t say anything at first. just helped you fix the collar, smoothing it down with usual precision.

“don’t stay out too long,” he said finally, tone as casual as it got, but his thumb lingered just a second too long on your sleeve.

you smirked, looking him from his hands up to his eyes. “what, got plans without me?”

he hesitated, barely, before answering. “something like that.”

you tilted your head, grinning. “should i be jealous?”

he sighed softly, like your teasing was both exhausting and grounding all at once. “just… be careful.”

you hummed, then rose onto your toes and kissed him. “always am.”

when you pulled away, he looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead he simply nodded. “i’ll hold you to that.”

yuji called from the kitchen, voice muffled by the toast now halfway into his mouth. “bring back souvenirs!”

you laughed, crouching slightly as you slipped your shoes on, calling back, “what kind of souvenirs come from curses?”

“the fun kind!”

nanami shook his head, faintly smiling, but his gaze followed you all the way to the door.

and when it clicked shut, the smile on his face faded.

he stood there for a moment, staring at the door, then at the faint smell of your coffee still cooling on the table. then he reached into his pocket, fingertips brushing the small velvet box hidden there.

he’d planned to ask tonight—quietly, simply. maybe while yuji complained about school again, or while you teased him for reading the paper like an old man. something small. something ordinary, because ordinary was all he’d ever wanted with you.

but the box stayed where it was unopened, as the morning stretched on and the city outside grew louder.

he sighed, brushing away the incessant thoughts that ran across his mind with a quick shake of his head. he turned to yuji. “you should go to school as early as you can. you wouldn’t want another earful from gojo.”

yuji smiled. “yeah! i’ll be on my way then.”

somehow that eased the tension that seeped through nanami’s veins like his own blood did.

only it was hours later when the call came through, static-laced, frantic, and breaking through ino’s line, that nanami felt his stomach drop before the words in his mouth even formed.

“misclassified– special grade one– send backup–”

the velvet box fell from his hand, hitting the floor with a sound too small for what it was.

and the coffee on the counter, untouched by anyone but you from earlier, had gone cold.

even now

by the time nanami reached the scene, the street was in ruins.

the air was thick with the curse, a smell that clung to the back of his throat. the outskirts of tokyo had never felt so eerie, with half-collapsed buildings and debris littering what little greenery was left.

he stepped over broken concrete, expression flat but eyes sharp, as he searched the area for even the littlest sign of your body—alive, he hoped. his heart hammered behind his calm exterior, and he could hear ino somewhere behind him on the phone, his voice tight for once, all brightness stripped away.

“mission was misclassified,” ino said to the speaker—maybe to ijichi, or gojo, or anyone at jujutsu tech that was alive and well. “three casualties already confirmed. the assigned sorcerer’s last location pinged inside… there.”

ino pointed at another half-collapsed building, the entrance entirely caved in.

nanami didn’t answer. he just kept walking.

the sound of static filled his earpiece again. a broken, half-words half-static distortion made no sense to him, but one syllable caught his ear.

“ken–”

he froze. then he moved.

upon breaching the inner hall of the collapsed building, a slithering mass of ink and teeth lashed at him. he didn’t hesitate, and exorcism came almost automatically after a few bashes to what seemed to be its head. his blunt sword meeting flesh, his breathing steady even as the rate of his heart speeding up threatened to break through his ribs.

when the cursed energy finally dissipated, the silence was deafening, and that’s when he saw you, half-buried under a broken beam, uniform torn, with blood trailing down your temple. you were breathing, shallow, but there and, most importantly, alive.

nanami’s vision flickered at the edges. he was on his knees before he even realized it, hands shaking as he pushed rubble aside.

“stay with me,” he said, not as a command, but as a plea. “do you hear me?”

you groaned, eyelids fluttering. “you’re… loud, kento.”

something in his chest cracked open. he breathed out. “good. keep talking.”

“i told you…” you mumbled, mimicking his voice, “...should’ve… stayed home.”

he exhaled, a short, broken sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. “you never listen, do you?.”

“wouldn’t be fun if i did.”

he pressed his forehead to yours briefly, eyes closing. “you have no idea what—” his voice caught the same way his breath hitched—the kind of sound nanami kento never let anyone hear.

you shifted slightly amidst the uncomfortableness of the situation, and his hand immediately steadied your shoulder. “don’t move,” he warned, voice dropping.

“is it bad?” you asked.

he didn’t answer, yet his silence was enough to let you know.

ino arrived moments later, stepping over debris, face grim. “alive?”

“alive,” nanami said sharply, then turned to you, “and it’s going to stay that way.”

ino nodded, summoned help, and for once, didn’t say anything more.

nanami stayed crouched beside you until the medics arrived. his hand never left yours, even when they tried to move you onto a stretcher, or when your fingers went limp for a second and his breath hitched like the world was ending again.

when the transport finally took you away, the ground around him felt colder. he stood there amid the wreckage, dust clinging to his clothes, and reached into his pocket. the velvet box was still there, albeit bent, with a thin crack along one edge from when it hit the kitchen floor earlier.

he turned it over in his hand once, then slipped it back into his coat. not yet.

later, when you were awake enough to joke again, when yuji could laugh without it catching in his throat, and when his voice didn’t shake just from saying your name.

then.but for now, he just whispered, almost to himself, “simple. still. we’re still here.”

still, always

the hospital lights were soft, but blinding. it was the evening shift, and half the ward was asleep. ino’s connections got him and you a route to the nearest hospital, for even attempting to go back to jujutsu tech would be perilous given the state of your bodily injuries.

your room smelled faintly of antiseptic and rain. you had the window opened earlier, insisting the air felt “less dead” that way.

nanami sat in the chair beside your bed, jacket folded neatly over his lap, reading glasses perched low on his nose, but he wasn’t reading. the page had been the same page for ten minutes.

“staring that hard won’t make the text move,” you murmured, voice low and hoarse.

his eyes flicked up, “you should be resting,” then flipped to the next page.

“i’ve been resting for three weeks.” you shifted slightly, the iv line tugging against your wrist. “i honestly think i can do so without even thinking it.”

he exhaled quietly, and you wondered if it was to stifle a laugh or cry. “you gave us a scare.”

you smiled weakly. “you mean you?”

he looked away, jaw tightening, the book following suit.

“yuji told me you didn’t sleep for days,” you added softly.

“well, yuji shouldn’t repeat things he doesn’t understand.”

“but you didn’t deny it.”

he was silent for a moment. then he closed the book.

“i thought–” he stopped himself. the words came out quieter than you’d ever heard from him. “i thought i’d lost you.”

you reached for his hand. he didn’t pull away, just turned his palm so your fingers could fit against his properly, the way they always did.

“you didn’t,” you said, clasping his hand with your other one. “i’m still here.”

he nodded, but you could see in his eyes the weight he still carried—the what-ifs, the almosts. silence stretched between you. the rain outside started up again, tapping softly against the window.

then, without looking up, he reached into his jacket pocket. the motion was small, deliberate, and plain—the same way he did with everything. you recognized the velvet box the second it hit the blanket between you, a little scuffed now  with one corner of the box bent.

your breath caught as you stared at it. “kento…”

he didn’t kneel, didn’t give a speech. just sat there, eyes fixed on the box like it held the whole world steady. “this wasn’t how i planned it,” he said quietly. “i wanted to ask you over breakfast, or coffee, or something simple.”

you looked at him, then smiled faintly. “that sounds like you.”

he nodded once. “then everything happened, and i thought maybe–” his voice faltered. “maybe it was foolish, that i shouldn’t… add more weight to something already so….”

your thumb brushed over his knuckles, interrupting him before he could even finish. “you think love makes things heavier, kento?”

he hesitated, then spoke. “sometimes.”

“then let me carry some of it.”

and that did it. his composure cracked, just barely, seen through a sharp inhale and the slight twitch of his finger beneath yours.

you reached for the box and opened it. the ring inside was simple, a thin band of gold — nothing too flashy, nothing too loud. just like him.

“i don’t need coffee,” you said, the corner of your mouth lifting, “or chandeliers, or a moment that feels perfect.”

he finally met your eyes.

“i just need you to ask.”

for the first time since the mission, nanami smiled. he cleared his throat. “then,” he said, voice steadier now, your name leaving his lips with worship, “will you marry me?”

you didn’t even hesitate, slipping the gold band around your finger. “yes. i will marry you, kento nanami.”

he let out a breath—a prayer—and leaned forward until his forehead rested against yours.

“still,” you whispered. “after everything.”

“always,” he murmured back.

the rain kept falling outside, soft and endless, washing the world clean as your lips met in a soft kiss.

and for the first time in weeks, nanami allowed himself to close his eyes and believe that maybe—just maybe—peace wasn’t something he had to chase anymore.

it was right here. still. always.

morning, again

the morning was ordinary again, just the way kento nanami liked it.

the smell of miso soup wafted from the kitchen, the sun filtered through the blinds in soft stripes across the table. yuji’s laughter, louder now and older somehow, echoed through the apartment like it always did.

“uncle na-na-min! you forgot the rice!”

nanami didn’t look up from the pan. “i did not forget. i’m letting it cool so you don’t burn your mouth again.”

yuji blinked. “oh come on, that was one time! i was 16!”

from the couch, you laughed. the sound was light and unstrained, tethered to no iv lines and no sterile walls. you were still in your robe, hair pulled up messily, flipping through a magazine you weren’t really reading.

“he’s right, yuji,” you said, masking a giggle.

“not fair! you always take his side even after three years of marriage!” he huffed. “three! don’t you get tired?”

you gasped dramatically, just to join in on the fun. “what, i wasn’t supposed to marry the man who cooks breakfast for me every day and saves my life?”

yuji groaned, burying his face in his hands. “you two are the worst. so gross! you’re, like, super domestic!”

nanami set a plate down in front of him, perfectly calm. “eat before your breakfast gets cold. domestic or not, we still have rules about manners.”

yuji sighed but obeyed, stuffing his mouth with rice. “you’re starting to sound like grandpa sometimes,” he mumbled through the food.

you caught nanami’s eye then, and for a second, the noise fell away. it was just you and him in the small, bright kitchen, with sunlight glinting off his gold wedding band as he poured your coffee.

the same quiet love, the same stillness, but now, something new enveloped itself into it.

you reached across the table and brushed your fingers over his, and he gave your hand a small squeeze.

safety.

yuji looked up just in time to catch it and groaned again. “i’m serious, you’re unbearable! can i go live with gojo?”

nanami’s answer was instant. “absolutely not.”

a comically sad face appeared on yuji’s features. “why not?”

“because,” he said, deadpan, “i’m fond of you, and i’d like you to live past twenty.”

you burst out laughing so hard you almost spilled your coffee, yuji almost squeaked in protest, and nanami just sighed.

and for the first time in a long time, everything felt whole. real.

when the laughter died down, nanami leaned back in his chair, gaze softening as he looked at the two of you: the small, strange family that had somehow survived everything the world threw at it.

and under his breath, so quiet you barely caught it, he muttered, “simple. still.”

you smiled, finishing it for him. “always.”

i am so very super duper sorry for not updating in over A MONTH, so here's the complete fic to my first nanami oneshot on this platform !!

this fic is also posted on ao3, so go check it out when you can :> !!

[illumeew]

HELLO??? OH MY GOSH I JUST GOT MY TUMBLR ACCOUNT BACK AFTER LOSING THE PASSWORD

now back to our regularly scheduled program :)

[illumeew]

I GOT INSPIRED ALL OF A SUDDEN HELLO so i'm scheduling another fic for tomorrow LMAOOOOO y'all ts is crazy

edit: i lost that inspiration i'm going to start reflecting now

[illumeew]

flins x reader. "if you kiss someone during the last winter, you owe them your spring."

the wind started its hunt again.

amidst the war, it howled like wolves through the night, dragging snow and debris through cracks on walls of torn-down buildings where windows used to be. the last of the night lanterns had shut down hours ago, and only a brazier remained—a makeshift steel bowl tucked between two fallen beams, cradling a flicker of fire no bigger than a fist.

you crouched down, feeding the fire a sliver of charred wood—what remained of the spear that once belonged to a fellow lightkeeper. it hissed, blowing the flame upward, before snapping back to a calm life, swaying underneath the undying breeze.

twelve had come through the battlefield with you this morning. now, there were only two.

flins sat against the wall opposite to you, coat slung half over his lap, a hand cleaning the blood from his sword. flimsy fabric wrapped around his hands—too far gone to be called gloves—and his fingers were raw, red, and cracked open at the knuckles. though, he made no move to stop cleaning.

he hadn’t spoken in a while. you didn’t press him to.

somewhere far, something screeched, then the ground trembled.

he stilled. you didn’t look up, just kept feeding the flame.

when he finally spoke, his voice was flat, but an underlying doubt caressed it like a hug. “when this is over,” he said, “do you think there’ll be room for people like us?”

you looked up slowly. his face was turned toward the fire, but his eyes were looking beyond it—somewhere far, where he couldn’t reach.

“if there isn’t,” you said, quiet but sure, “we’ll make room, from what’s left.”

he laughed, barely. “the kindling's all bone.”

“then we build with bone,” you replied, lips twitching. “the world’s always been cruel, but that doesn’t mean it gets to be empty.”

came next was a moment no words could fill, just the empty space between one heartbeat and the next. the wind curled around you like a battle cry, the fire below you popping and showering sparks against your boots. an ember of it rushed upward, flickering a light of crimson and gold, and for an instant, it looked like the tail of the firebird—the old omen of second chances, of flames that refused to die.

flins didn’t notice it, but you did.

he glanced down, as if ashamed of believing you.

you crossed to where he was and sat knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder. the cold air bled through your coats where your thighs touched, but you didn’t pull away.

you leaned on him and pressed a wrapped ration into his hand. “you haven’t eaten.”

“didn’t want to waste it,” he muttered, but his fingers curled around it anyway. “not if we’re meant to keep moving.”

“if we’re moving, we’ll need strength,” you said. “besides. you’re not a wisp yet, kyryll. you still have a mouth to feed.”

he didn’t answer, but he didn’t let go of your hand, either.

“i keep thinking about them,” he said finally, “the ones we left behind. every night, i see them, standing behind the leshy…”

you rested your head on his shoulder. “they’re watching us still,” you said. “not to curse us, but to guide. my babushka used to say, ‘the stars are the eyes of the fallen, and they blink when we speak of love.’”

“you think this is love?” he asked, not accusatorially, no. only surprised.

“i think you carry too much of it,” you whispered, “and i want to carry some of it with you.”

he exhaled, shaky. “i don’t know how to let that happen.”

“you don’t have to know. just let it happen.”

another moment of silence passed, no sound uttered but the creak of archons-knew-what from the cold, brittle snezhnayan air. when flins leaned into your touch, when his forehead tipped gently against yours, you thought it was the warmest you’ve felt since you stepped foot into this massacre.

“my mother used to say,” he murmured, “‘if you kiss someone during the last winter, you owe them your spring.’”

you looked up at him, at the doe of his eyes despite its blankness.

“then kiss me,” you said, quietly, “and i’ll stay until the flowers bloom again.”

i'm back and alive. also are my attempts at referencing slavic myth ok...

[illumeew]

allowed to love — satoru gojo x reader

teaser: you've known who satoru gojo was before you even knew his name. you hated him, hated how everyone worshipped the ground he walked on like he was something divine. but with the way he looked at you, he seemed to think he wasn't the divine one, but you.

wc: ~8k

content: sfw, written with student!gojo and reader at the start, slight angst, slight slow burn, classmates to lovers, mentioned shibuya, bittersweet ending, high school love :(

you had heard his laughter before you even saw him, ever so bright and untouchable, the sound of it travelling through corridors like sunlight breaking through stained glass. you didn’t know his name yet, but you thought, whoever he is, that he didn’t belong here.

then, you learned it—satoru gojo.

that white-haired, fair-skinned boy who walked like he owned the ground but carried the heavens in his big, blue eyes. a boy who looked rid of sorrow, as if grief itself couldn’t reach his heights.

everyone seemed to see him as something invincible—as something eternal—and yet, when he turned toward you or when he smiled as if you were the only thing he wanted to see in that moment, you realized there was something painfully human about him too.

when you finally met that gaze, it was as though he’d caught you in the spill of dawn. his eyes, ever so unfathomable and endless, were far too radiant to belong to someone human. he smiled at you then, casually—carelessly, even—as if he had no idea what kind of ruin he left behind with something so stubbornly simple.

“walk with me?” he asked as though it didn’t matter whether you said yes.

the words themselves were trivial, tossed out like petals thrown about in the wind, but the sound of them seemed to linger and settle into your chest. you should have rolled your eyes or walked away, but you found yourself moving at his side, as if his gravity had already claimed you.

he was loud, reckless, and unbearably bright and yet, in the quiet moments, you caught the shadows. the way his voice softened when he thought no one was listening. the flicker of weariness in his eyes when the weight of the world pressed too close.

the two of you became orbit after, bound by a tether the universe had imposed between you. you didn’t name it, because naming things in a world like this felt dangerous, like putting birds in shackles and a cage. still, you felt it, the way your chest ached at his side and the way your breath caught when he leaned too close, all teasing.

and maybe he felt it too, because when he looked at you—really looked—it was as if he was searching for proof that he wasn’t as alone as he feared.

it terrified you, how fragile this thing between you was. this frail, luminous tether in a world too cruel for something so soft. sorcerers weren’t supposed to long for anything. sorcerers weren’t supposed to need. but with him, you found yourself reaching for a life you weren’t sure you were allowed to imagine.

in that dazzling, instant light, the truth became clear: satoru gojo was overwhelming, incandescent, divine, and inhumane.

but when he laughed with you, when his hand brushed against yours like an accident the universe had orchestrated, you thought maybe he was just a boy—a lonely boy shining too brightly for his own good.

and you were already falling.

the first time it happened, you almost convinced yourself it was chance manipulating the strings.

he just happened to be leaning against the wall when you passed by, just happened to time his words as though he’d been waiting for you. and yet, his grin bloomed the moment your eyes met, wide and certain, like he had been counting down to it.

“finally,” he drawled. “i thought you’d never get here.”

you blinked. “were you… waiting for me?”

“nah,” he said with a grin. “i was just, you know, hanging out, being mysterious, looking cool. and if you happened to show up at the exact same time, then maybe it’s destiny.”

you raised a brow. “destiny?”

“exactly, so don’t fight it...” he huffed, then tilted his head toward the hallway ahead. “walk with me?”

and you did, because somehow, when he asked, it never felt like a question.

you hated it at first, the way your chest tightened around him. hated how he had become a constant in your thoughts, a shadow that followed you even when he wasn’t there, because what right did you have to hold onto something so fleeting in a world like this?

sorcerers weren’t meant to long for something. sorcerers weren’t meant to hope for someone. and yet one evening at the dorms and one more-than-a-passing glance was all it took for your resolve to start crumbling.

“not tired?” he asked, but his voice, low and steady, lacked the usual bravado that made your blood curl.

and that expression—oh, that expression. he looked at you like the world had cracked open and he had found something worth gentleness.

then, something in you shifted, and before you knew it you started noticing more than just glances. you noticed how he slowed his wider steps to match your shorter ones when you walked together. how he let you fill the silence during the quiet moments. how he never said anything about being inherently alone, especially not when he was with you.

and you, without meaning to, answered it every time.

one night, as you stood by the window of the dormitory common room together, the sky thrashing above, he leaned close enough that you felt the heat of him against your shoulder and the faint brush of his hand against yours.

“you ever think,” he asked suddenly, eyes still fixed on the stars, “about how much easier it’d be if we weren’t us?”

you swallowed. “all the time.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke. and then, he laughed. it wasn’t the wild, unstoppable laugh he gave the world, but a smaller one—cracked, slightly hoarse, and frayed at the edges.

“figures,” he said. “i knew you’d get it.”

you turned to look at him then, and it struck you all at once. the boy everyone thought was untouchable, the boy who was too bright for this world, sitting beside you and asking to be understood.

and in that moment, you knew it was too late, and you had fallen so deeply.

it wasn’t a sudden thing, this love. not dramatic or explosive like in the movies you’d watched with your family as a kid. it was a devastating heartbreak in how natural it felt, like gravity, like breathing. you felt it slither under your skin, felt your blood pumping as it stitched its way through your body. you couldn’t think about anything but the way his hand brushed yours like an accident, and the way his grin faltered into something almost tender when he thought you wouldn’t notice. you did.

satoru gojo was overwhelming, radiant, and impossible—a star that demanded the whole sky to have him.

but when he turned to you, when his voice dropped and his eyes softened, you thought maybe he was just a boy.

and if he was just a boy, then you were allowed to love him.

so you did, in every smile you returned, every silence you stayed for, every step you matched to his.

it was reckless, it was fragile, it was doomed, but it was yours.

he was yours.

now, he stands in front of you, tall and impossible, white hair catching the fractured light of explosions. the air reeks of smoke and blood, with screams echoing down broken streets and the city warped into something straight out of a horror book.

shibuya. the ground trembles with curses too powerful to name, the sky burns with malice.

amidst the chaos, he was still radiant, still overwhelming, still satoru gojo, but you can see the weight in his shoulders, the exhaustion, and the way he carries everything and everyone as though he was meant to for every waking moment since birth.

the boy you once knew at sixteen—laughing too loudly in hallways, saving you seats without asking, whispering for you to stay at midnight—he’s still there, just buried under the brilliance the world demanded of him.

and you, still at his side, still matching his wider steps, realize you’ve never stopped falling. not then, not now, not even as the city collapses around you.

because even here, even in shibuya’s ruin, he glances back once, just long enough for your eyes to meet.

and in that fleeting moment, in the middle of hell, the curve of his lips tells you, i’m here.

the world is cruel, the world is breaking, but you’re not alone, not while he’s here.

and you smile back, because that is still, always, enough.

pretty dividers by @uzmacchiato !! <3

also new format for this specific one mwehehe

[illumeew]

nanami x reader. nanami shares a quiet, loving life with you and yuji, your late older sister’s son. the time comes when he secretly plans to propose to you in the simple, honest way your little family deserves.

yuji’s laughter echoed through your apartment, his chopsticks and spoon clattering as he nearly dropped a piece of karaage.

“slow down,” you scolded, nudging him with your elbow. “kento’s going to choke just watching you.”

across the table from yuji, nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, though the faintest smile tugged at his lips. “itadori, your enthusiasm is admirable, but food tastes the same whether eaten at a reasonable pace or inhaled.”

yuji swallowed, grinning sheepishly, bits of rice decorating his face. “yeah, but your cooking’s too good to eat slow. besides, i have practice tomorrow, so it’s, like, carb-loading already!”

you rolled your eyes at his poor reasoning, but nanami chuckled low under his breath. “you’ve given him an excuse,” he murmured to you, tone dry.

you leaned close, whispering back, “he doesn’t need one. he’s just like how kaori was when we were kids. never knew how to sit still for long.”

nanami’s hand brushed yours beneath the table. “and yet,” he said softly, “he’s here with you. that’s enough, isn’t it?”

yuji looked between you two, blinking. “hey, are you guys whispering about me again? you’re not allowed to, y’know. that’s bad manners!”

“eat,” you said firmly, brows furrowed, voice fighting back a laugh.

nanami cleared his throat. “yes, finish what’s on your plate before you try to police conversations you’re not invited to.”

yuji groaned. “man, you two sound more like parents every day.”

his words were thrown out like it was a casual thing, but they lingered in you longer than it should have. and when you dared to look at nanami, you found his gaze on yours already, his expression unreadable.

later that night, after yuji had finally gone to bed after muttering about having chicken for dinner tomorrow, you curled up on the couch with nanami witht the dim, warm light of your lamp illuminating the area. his arm rested along the back cushion, close enough that his fingers brushed your shoulder.

“you’re good with him,” you said, your voice softer now that the apartment was quiet. “better than you think you are.”

nanami shook his head, leaning closer to you. “i’m not. he deserves more than i can give him.”

at his words, you turned to face him, frowning. “kento. he adores you. you’re… you’re the steady rock when i’m not. you’re the reason he still… laughs like that.”

at the thought of yuji laughing, a small smile festers on your face. nanami’s hand found yours, his thumb tracing over your knuckles.

“i only ever wanted to make things easier for you,” he admitted. “for both of you.”

“you already do.” you squeezed his hand, heart swelling at how sincere he looked. “don’t you get it? you’re part of his life now, ken—part of my life even more. you’ve been part of it longer than he’s been a student in tokyo.”

something flickered in his eyes at that, but he made no mention of it and instead leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering slightly when he feels your face warm up.

and later still, when you finally fell asleep curled against him, nanami stood by the window with a small velvet box hidden in his pocket. the dim, warm light of your living room lamp flickered against his glasses as he breathed through the nerves the thoughts in his mind give him.

he had never been one for grand gestures. he doubted you’d want one anyway. what you had built together didn’t need anything big, he knew. it was already strong enough.

he imagined pulling the ring out in a fancy restaurant somewhere in tokyo, maybe under chandeliers that probably cost more than what his corporate job paid and probably as much as gojo’s overwhelming daily spendings. maybe between wine glasses and full course meals. he’d be careful as to not spill anything on your outfit, all perfect-looking, when he gets down on one knee and the people around watch in awe.

he also imagined pulling the ring out tomorrow morning, maybe over coffee while yuji complained about school. maybe while you teased him for reading the paper like an old man. he’d be careful as to not spill anything on your pajamas, because he’d rather you spend the day relaxing than washing off spilled coffee on your shirt.

simple, honest—exactly like the love that had grown between you.

nanami glanced toward yuji’s closed door, then back to you where you slept peacefully on the couch. he leaned forward to adjust your crooked neck on the pillow before pushing some of your hair back with his thumb.

he smiled, yes, and thought, brushing his other thumb over the ring box in his pocket. they’ll say yes.

I FINALLY POSTED SOMETHING !!! and i felt this was right to post now after hearing news that we're getting another jjk series, i can't wait for it <33

also am i the only one seeing sugar daddies comment under my posts...

[illumeew]

i did NOT expect my schedule to be so hectic y'all i am so sorry 😭

but at least this nightmare fueled me to write for nanami !!! do we still fw fiance!nanami ??? i sure hope so bc thats what i'm posting about later LMFAO

[illumeew]

i've heard of the new sylus and caleb cards for the lads game and it honestly piqued my interest so bad, but i don't play the game so i can't go into full detail about it :(

i'd love to write for the lads boys though !! although i'm a LITTLEE scared i'll write them so out of character LMAO

ALSO WOWOW 200+ FOLLOWERS TYSM FOR KEEPING UP WITH MY HECTIC POSTING SCHEDULE GUYS T-T i promise i'll write a fic for the milestone !!

[illumeew]

holidays give me room to write!! so expect a fic later today or tomorrow maybe ,,,

edit: oh i lied, the workload increased tenfold LMAO

[illumeew]

the urge to write for lads but i don't play the game :(