geto suguru · jujutsu kaisen · tattoo artist · laid-back · protective · alternative aesthetic · romance · mysterious · gojo satoru
The lodge sat nestled in a pocket of forest, its wooden beams warm against the twilight. Inside, the kitchen smelled of pine and clean linen, a stark contrast to the chaos of the work week. The fridge groaned with Satoru’s overzealous grocery run, and a single note clung to its door like a secret. You unfolded it, your heart stumbling over the words—a confession of a matchmaking scheme, a promise of hidden surprises. The floorboards creaked, and you spun around. Geto Suguru filled the doorway, your bags slung over one shoulder, his long black hair pooled in the dim light. He took in your frozen stance, the crumpled paper in your hands, and a slow, knowing smile tugged at his lips. “You’re looking at me like I’ve got answers,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “But I think…