mrblueeyes | Open Post & Wishlist

Open Post & Wishlist

RP wishlist:
Shippy stuff with Suguru forever. Also always interested in Nanami, and I'm totally here for dark shit with Sukuna. Interested to explore ship possibilities with other canonmates (but not his students or the younger generation in general). Open to a variety of power dynamics but have a preference for Gojo bottoming--I find when I play him that he likes to flex like he's more dominant and toppy, but his actual type is guys who will call him out on that shit and make him yield.

My dream PSLs are usually long, plotty, filled with conflicting motivations, and also a large side of smut and kink. I like playing with co-dependent and obsessive relationships where things get messy and characters make bad decisions. I love building plots so I'm more than happy to come up with ideas, and I'm always up for building AU backstories and settings.

Specific ideas & most wanted right now:

Sugusato:
-At the end of jjk0, Gojo spares Geto and steals him away, nurses him back to health but keeps him locked up.

-Beauty & the Beast AU. Knight Gojo shows up to slay shapeshifter Geto, but gets caught in the enchantment and trapped in the castle with Geto and his pet curses, and has to learn empathy toward curses and falls in love with Geto while he's trying to figure out how to break the spell.

weird dystopian jujutsu sorcerers openly rule modern society as kings AUs:
-heian era or fantasy au option, rebel/feral curse user geto gets captured to be used as a puppet under gojo family control
-modern au (still jujutsu dystopia, sort of arranged marriage), geto getting pushed into indentured servitude for the gojo family, with lots of bullshit about how honored he should be for the 'apprenticeship' when really it's just how the noble families control powerful sorcerers popping up among the commoners

-teenage fluff shenanigans forever, awkward misunderstandings, jealousy, cute confessions

-dark AUs generally (curse user Gojo AUs, evil Geto willing to seduce/corrupt/kidnap/exploit Gojo)

Sukugo:
-Hundreds of years ago Sukuna was defeated and bound to obey the Gojo family. Now, the heir of the Gojo family knows this curse is dangerous, but he’s starting to become a little obsessed…

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Satoru had been ready to beg for a kiss, hoping that Suguru would forgive him enough to give him this one night, at least. He can't bear to think about anything beyond that. Whether this continues or not, it'll be filled with complications that he can't envision right now.

All that matters right now is how desperately he needs Suguru.

Releasing Suguru's wrist, Satoru slips both arms around his back to hold him close as he returns the kiss. His heart is pounding, fear of losing Suguru and yearning to have him.

As their lips meet, he feels the thrill of it shoot down his spine. He's terrified that he won't do this right, but Suguru said that he also hasn't done anything before. They can figure it out together. As long as they're together.

His first goes to Satoru, which feels appropriate. He'd never entertained the idea of kissing, or anything deeper, beyond idle wishes; even his deepest desires and the fantasies that came from it didn't dwell on kissing. That was for lovers, and they could never be that.

But here they are now. Suguru cups the nape of his neck, fingers trailing into the short strands of hair as their lips press together. He's never done anything like this, though he's read enough to have a faint idea, and this is Satoru. Despite the short time he's known the other man, he feels like his soul knows him.

He lingers in the kiss for as long as he can, until he needs to breathe properly, and even then he doesn't go far, brushing his lips against Satoru's jaw. "Satoru. Tell me again."

Their lips and catch and drag against each other's, mouths connecting and caressing. Satoru feels so thirsty for him, wanting to drink him in. His arms stay tight around Suguru's torso, keeping their bodies close, wanting to press skin to skin, to take Suguru inside of himself until they become one.

"I love you," he answers at once, nuzzling at Suguru's cheek. "My Suguru. I'd give anything to have you, to keep you with me. I'm obsessed with you, in awe of you. I love you. I love you, Suguru."

He speaks against Suguru's skin, scattering kisses down the side of his neck and back up, and then captures Suguru's lips again with a needy sound, having been separated for too long and now feeling starved for his mouth again, tongue sliding out this time to taste him.

"I love you, Satoru." Suguru kisses him deeply, lips parting and tongue rubbing against Satoru's, moaning into it. Now that he's let himself do anything other than vaguely want, he finds his desire to be close to Satoru is nigh overwhelming.

His room is tidy, mostly— the mess is on his desk and the table near his window— so he can pull Satoru to his bed without risking stumbling over anything. The wise thing to do would be to break the kisses and properly walk to the bed, but he doesn't want to let go, afraid everything everything might disappear in smoke.

Satoru had managed to remain mostly quiet during the first kiss, only little gasps and hitches in his breath, but as Suguru's tongue meets his own he moans. His hands slip up the back of Suguru's pajama shirt, fingers splaying across warm skin, as his hips twitch forward, cock already hard and eager just from the first kiss.

Walking like this is awkward, and he laughs into the kiss, but he also keeps pressing forward, trying to keep their bodies sealed together.

As they reach the bed, Satoru turns in order to tumble back onto it, drawing Suguru down on top of him. His hands slide down the back of Suguru's pants now, grabbing his ass and squeezing.

Suguru smiles against Satoru's lips as he laughs, appreciating that he does feel free enough to let loose and be happy in the moment with him. He should shush his friend, considering everything, but he can't bring himself to do that. This is likely the only night they'll have together; he wants it to be memorable for Satoru.

The smile turns into a laugh as Satoru slides his hands down and squeezes his ass. "Moving that quickly, Satoru?" he teases, but he does grind his hips against Satoru's as he straddles him. His hands slide under his top, pushing it up.

"Take this off," he says. "Let me see you."

"Sorry," Satoru says, not very repentant at all. "I wanted to touch. I want to touch all of you."

Quick to obey, Satoru flicks open buttons on his shirt, pushing it open and sitting up enough to wiggle out of it, not worrying about where it lands as he tosses it aside. "I've spent so much time looking at you, Suguru. You're so handsome, and I've always wanted to touch. As much as I do touch you, I'm constantly holding back. Trying to behave. I just ... I want you so much that it aches. Take off your shirt, too, please?"

Babbling in an excited whisper, Satoru squirms beneath him, hips grinding up against Suguru and chest arching into Suguru's touch, every inch of his body straining to be closer to his lover.

Suguru rolls his eyes at Satoru, but his lips twitch in amusement, (not so) secretly delighted by his response.

"I want you to touch me all the time," Suguru says, watching Satoru unbutton his shirt and toss it aside, revealing his pale chest. He knows what Satoru looks like, could make guesses about his chest from the way his clothes fit, but there's nothing quite like seeing glimpses of your lover revealed as they strip for you. His eyes go dark as he watches, fingers trailing up his chest, carefully skirting his nipples and pausing above his heart. "Is this where you wrote my name, Satoru?" he asks, tracing his name there. Not the English version, but the kanji for his name, which he never uses but knows by heart.

Satoru has a lot of strength in his chest, despite living a mostly lazy and academic life. It's one of the few areas where he's diligent, and always something he avoids questions about, insisting that he simply cares about his health. Every morning he practices his strengthening exercises in his room, so his body is solid with lean muscle.

"That's where your name is always written, Suguru," he murmurs, looking up at him with a smirk, lashes low-lidded and coy. His hands slide up Suguru's legs, squeezing the muscle of his thighs and then curling around his hips. "Please, Suguru. I want to see you naked. I want all of you tonight."

Like Satoru, Suguru does daily exercises, a habit long-ingrained from studying martial arts with his father and helping with other tasks that required a certain amount of physical strength. So he's not ashamed of his body, which he slowly reveals, fingers undoing the buttons on his shirt one by one.

"You're so impatient, Satoru. What if I wanted to linger over this?" he teases, as he undoes the last button and shrugs it off. "We have all night." Probably not much beyond that, but it's something.

Satoru stares hungrily as Suguru slowly unbuttons his shirt, showing off the warm skin beneath, the strong musculature. His hips shift upward, grinding against Suguru, lust surging through him at the sight. "Can't help being impatient," he says, giving Suguru a coaxing little pout, more playful than actually apologetic, and he discards the expression after only a moment. "If we only can have tonight. I want ... as much as you as I can get. I'm greedy for you."

He gives another lustful rumble as Suguru's shirt comes the rest of the way off. Rising up onto his elbows, Satoru bites down on his lower lip, cheeks flushed with desire as he looks at his beloved. "You're breathtaking, Suguru," he whispers.

Suguru shoots him a look at the lack of apology, although it has no reproach behind it because Satoru is right: if they only have that night, then he also wants as much as possible.

"As you are, my darling," he whispers, leaning down and capturing Satoru's lips in another kiss. He urges Satoru back down to the bed, going with him, and when he breaks from the kiss, he peppers kisses across his jaw and down his neck. "I want to touch you everywhere, Satoru," he says, nuzzling against his neck, lips hovering over his pulse point.

Satoru already dreads that he's made a terrible mistake, because how is he ever going to give this up? How is he supposed to act normal around Suguru now, when he'll always be thinking about the warmth of his skin and the taste of his mouth. He tries to insist to himself that this really is only one night, but that already feels like a lie. They're going to steal every moment that they can get. And then? Satoru doesn't know. Fight the world.

"You can. I'm all yours." Satoru keens softly with desire as Suguru kisses along the side of his neck. He feels exquisitely sensitive, skin warm and alight under each touch. "At your mercy for all those wicked desires of yours, Suguru. I think you promised to make me cry?" Grinning as he speaks of it, Satoru buries his hands in Suguru's hair, tangling his hands tight in the strands, possessive.

"I'd rather make you cry from pleasure than anything else," Suguru says, as he returns to Satoru's lips, capturing them in another deep kiss. His hands skim down Satoru's sides, then up his chest, curling over his pectoral muscles. "I thought of you when I wrote those words. What you would look like as we made love."

The reality is vastly different than what he imagined, and so much better. He couldn't have conjured up the flush on Satoru's cheeks or the expression in his eyes and the soft release of breath as they kiss. He couldn't have ever imagined the way his hair, though short, falls over his pillow and picks up the lamplight. He'd never had cause to see Satoru undressed, so he couldn't have predicted his muscular chest and pink nipples with their perfect areolas— one of which he touches, dragging the pad of his thumb against the nub, firm beneath his touch.

Satoru moans against Suguru's mouth as his beloved kisses him again, arching up into the touch as Suguru's hands curl over his chest.

"Those words especially made me think they were about me," Satoru confirms, happy and smug with affection. "When you talked about imagining my eyes were beautiful and sparkling. It was such a specific trait, and no one's eyes are more beautiful than mine. Though I'd rather gaze into yours all day, if I had the choice."

Keening softly as Suguru teases at his nipple, Satoru's brow furrows with yearning, spine shuddering as he arches, trying to press himself deeper into Suguru's hands. "Suguru. I want you so much I feel like I'll die from yearning."

Satoru's remarks make Suguru chuckle; of course Satoru would consider his eyes the most beautiful. He doesn't disagree— no one has eyes as beautiful as Satoru's, in Suguru's opinion, and he would not mind spending hours looking into his eyes.

How is he ever going to look at Satoru normally after this?

Suguru's hands leave his chest and sweep down his sides to land on his hips, fingers digging in through the softness of his silk pajamas. Suguru kisses him again, shushing him. "You've got me, Satoru. I'm right here." Though Suguru understands; he wants Satoru so much he doesn't know where even to begin. "I've got you, darling."

Satoru smiles at that reassurance, wanting to trust himself to it, trying not to think of how fragile and fleeting this is. He wants to cherish every moment, but it's hard not to want to weep with the knowledge that this is temporary. They can't keep this. They can't. And Satoru doesn't have a solution to that.

His mind shuttles rapidly back and forth between the two states of bliss and grief. He wants to lose himself in the now, but how will he properly savor the value of each moment without keeping the sharp edge of knowledge that he has to give it up again?

"Suguru," he murmurs again. "Oh, I was obsessed with you from the start. I've never wanted anyone like I want you. Every time you brush back your bangs I feel like I might die with lust."

What useful information. Suguru grins; he'll have to use that later. Maybe. It depends on what 'later' is for them— if there is anything possible after this. It's unlikely, considering Satoru's family and Suguru's own. He doesn't want to put them in danger or risk their livelihood, especially after his parents gave up so much to come to England and have endured scorn.

But he won't think about that, not when Satoru is beneath him, limned by the lamplight.

"Do you know how beautiful you are, Satoru?" Suguru asks. "Every time you smiled at me, I felt as though my heart might stop. I didn't expect to be taken into your circle, let alone for you to latch onto me the way you did. Every pat on the back and arm slung over my shoulder and nudge to my side felt like it might shatter me, for want of loving you. I was holding this huge secret inside, but it felt so immense and so obvious that I was sure everyone would see it in my eyes every time I looked at you."

He trails kisses down Satoru's neck and across his chest, shifting to settle comfortably between his legs, with enough space that he can scoot down as he kisses Satoru all over. He stops at his nipples, licking over one and then the other, just to see how Satoru would react. His hands move from Satoru's hips to fumble with the ties on his pajama pants

Satoru gives an awed little whimper at how Suguru talks. He'd longed for Suguru to love him, but he'd still never imagined he might be loved like this. As beautiful as the letters were, they were always somewhat distant and theoretical. These words are so impossibly personal, and Satoru feels like he could die from love.

(How will he live, pretending that they're only friends going forward? It's almost a mercy that he's soon to be separated from Suguru for the break. Maybe it will give him the space he needs to try and function normally once he sees Suguru again afterward.)

Keening at Suguru's tongue on his nipples, Satoru jerks his hips upward, seeking more contact. "Suguru. Are you going to ... fuck me? Do you have oil? I've got some in my room. I've been. Um."

Cheeks flaming, Satoru breaks off, too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

"Have you been touching yourself, Satoru?" Suguru asks, when Satoru seems unable to finish the sentence, an amused grin crossing his face. "Opening your hole, trying to imagine my fingers inside you while doing it?"

Suguru bites down on his nipple, then soothes it with his tongue, and presses his hips against Satoru's. He's hard beneath his pajama pants already, cock straining against the soft cotton of his underwear and pants, obvious even through the layers of clothing.

"I have oil," he says, lifting his head again to look at Satoru. "It's in my nightstand, can you grab it? Top drawer. Don't spill it."

There's little risk of spillage, since he's capped it tightly, but he wants to be cautious. The drawer also has all of the letters until he can find a better place to store them.

Satoru nods immediately, whimpering in response to those words and then immediately having to stifle a cry as Suguru bites down on his nipple. His own cock gives a needy throb, and he jerks his hips up to meet Suguru's as his lover presses down on top of him.

"Yes," Satoru says, ready to say yes to anything for Suguru, desperately eager to please him. He stretches out his arm and gropes for the drawer and a vial inside that seems the right shape and size. "I like ... feeling full," he confesses, eyes shy and teeth worrying at his lower lip with nervousness again, but words quickly resume spilling out of him again a moment later. "And of course I always imagine that it's you filling me up. Fucking me. Whispering all your dirty promises and telling me how much you love me."

He opens his hand, offering the vial for Suguru to take, feeling like he's offering himself in the process. "Please, Suguru. I'm yours. Take me."

To Suguru, Satoru has always been beautiful. Not just physically, although he's obviously a stunningly gorgeous man, but in everything he is, and seeing his rendered shy and whimpering makes Suguru feel feral. How is he going to live with the knowledge of what Satoru looks like, spread across his bed like this, when they have to go back to being just friends?

Suguru kneels between his legs and reaches for Satoru's hand holding the vial. He takes the vial, bringing Satoru's hand to his lips and kissing his palm. "I'll take care of you," he promises, and he means for the night, but it's more than that. He'd take care of Satoru for much longer, if he could.

He pushes down and kicks off his pants and underwear, unconcerned about them, and then focuses his attention on Satoru, slowly easing down his clothes, finally revealing more of him to Suguru's eyes. He's gorgeous everywhere, which Suguru expected, but it's different to see it before him.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, lowering his head to kiss Satoru's hip, and then nosing down the treasure trail of white hair beneath his belly button.

Satoru whimpers at the way that Suguru looks at him when he promises to care for him. He feels utterly lost, and abandons all thoughts of what they're going to do tomorrow. It doesn't matter. Suguru will take care of him. Suguru is the sensible one. They'll figure something out. All that matters is right now, with Suguru looking at him like he's the most wondrous thing in the universe.

He makes a deep, hungry noise as Suguru's clothes are stripped away, revealing his strong body and that impressively thick cock between his legs. The thought of having that inside of him makes Satoru feel a little dizzy with nerves and desire.

"Suguru," he murmurs, shivering as Suguru dips his head like that, lips so obscenely close to Satoru's cock. He's read about things like this in pornography, but to see Suguru near his cock in real life feels profane, as though Suguru will be somehow degraded by this indecency. Satoru aches with worry that he'll put Suguru in danger.

"You shouldn't," he insists, though his cock clearly feels otherwise, hard and dripping as it is.

"I shouldn't...?" Suguru's brow furrows in confusion. "I shouldn't love you? We've discussed that, Satoru. It's too late." Satoru is too firmly wrapped into his soul now, into the very marrow of his bones. "I shouldn't do this? We don't have to— we can do anything else."

Satoru's body seems to be begging otherwise, but Suguru knows that doesn't mean much. He had practically begged for Suguru to take him, but they are both new to this, unsure and fumbling through.

Suguru drops the vial on the side of the bed, cupping his hands around Satoru's hips and rubbing soothing circles. "I won't hurt you." He wants to: wants to see Satoru wrecked and crying for him. But it's a specific sort of hurt, he thinks, not the ruination of Satoru, but the adoration.

"I feel as though I'll taint you," Satoru murmurs, reaching down to brush Suguru's hair back from his face, tucking his bangs gently behind his ear. "I don't want you to debase yourself for me."

Suguru is so breathtaking, and Satoru cups his hand against his lover's cheek, still awed to have him and to be loved like this. "I know you won't hurt me. I'm safe with you. I'm safer in your hands than in my own." His eyes crinkle at the corners as he says that, warm with affection and amusement at himself. He knows that he tends to be careless with his own best interests, but Suguru never is. Suguru always remembers the things that Satoru needs.

"Fill me up, please?" Satoru begs, voice soft and tentative. "I want ..."

He can't say it, but his hands stray down Suguru's body, breath hitching as his fingers wrap around Suguru's cock. "You're so big, Suguru."

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