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gojoxraiden · 2 days ago

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date nights

you were curled up in bed, blanket wrapped around you like some fortress of ice-cold silence. your pink-haired menace of a husband had just gotten home.

you heard his footsteps echo down the hall. all deliberate, slow, unhurried. he always walked like he owned the ground beneath him, even in his own damn house.

the door opened. you didn’t move. didn’t even look. he dropped his jacket onto the chair like clockwork, loosened his tie with a sigh, and crossed the room.

“baby.” his voice was low, warm, like honey poured into whiskey and you did the most obvious thing after a long day: ignored him.

he leaned down, brushed a kiss against your temple, the corner of your cheek. and… you. still. didn’t. move.

“why the long face, baby?” he teased, already pulling the blanket you cocooned yourself in so he could slide in behind you. the mattress dipped under his weight, his arm slung heavy across your waist, mouth brushing your hairline.

you still didn’t talk.

he laughed quietly, the bastard. “you’re cute when you sulk.”

the truth was simple: you were mad. not because of anything earth-shattering, not because of some life-or-death shit. no, you were mad because tonight was supposed to be date night. the one night of the week you both carved out of your insane schedules. reservations made, outfit picked, even perfume dabbed just so behind your ear.

but then — surprise — a “critical” late-night meeting landed on his desk, courtesy of some idiot executive who thought moving a few million without approval was a fun little game. sukuna, as the boss, had to clean up the mess.

and you knew that. you knew. it wasn’t his fault. but still. you waited. you dressed. worst of all? you ate alone. and you hATED that.

and now he was here, curling up behind you, radiating body heat like NOTHING happened. nothing!

“didn’t eat dinner,” he murmured into your hair, hand smoothing down your side like he was petting a spoiled cat. “meeting ran late. i was thinking about you the whole time.”

“…”

“place was quiet without you.” his lips brushed your shoulder. “would’ve rather been with my wife than babysitting idiots who can’t do math.”

you finally rolled over, glaring at him. “you remembered it was date night?”

he smirked. that maddening, slow, smug curve of his mouth. “‘course i did. i made the reservation, didn’t i?”

you huffed. “then why’d you go to that stupid meeting?”

“because, darling,” he drawled, eyes glinting, “someone lost a few million dollars. not billions, thank god, but enough that i couldn’t just pour a drink and call it a day.” he reached up, tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch maddeningly gentle. “and you know me. i don’t leave messes lying around.”

ugh. of course he’d make sense. of course he’d make you feel dramatic for even being upset.

“you still should’ve been here,” you muttered, softer now, but not willing to back down completely.

he leaned in, pressed a kiss to your lips — slow, coaxing, entirely too sweet. “i agree. and i’ll make it up to you.”

“hmph.”

“what?” his grin widened. “still angry? do i need to grovel harder?” his voice dipped lower, huskier.

“want me on my knees, baby?” sukuna murmured, smirk tugging at his lips.

you rolled your eyes, about to tell him to shut up — when his phone buzzed on the nightstand. loud. insistent.

both your gazes snapped to it.

ring. ring. ring.

sukuna’s jaw ticked. he didn’t move.

you arched a brow. “aren’t you gonna—”

“no.” his voice was flat. absolute. he tightened his arm around you, dragging you flush against him like you’d even think about slipping away. “i’m not answering that.”

the ringing stopped. blessed silence.

you smirked, just a little. “hm. miracles do happen.”

but then — ding. a text. then another. then another.

sukuna exhaled slowly through his nose, the way men do when they’re two seconds from strangling somebody. he reached, picked it up, thumb hovering over the screen. you caught the flash of words before he locked it again:

emergency. urgent. need your approval.

“of course,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “another emergency.”

he tossed the phone back down with more force than necessary, then rolled onto his back, dragging you with him so you were sprawled half across his chest. his hand slid lazily up your thigh, grip possessive.

“if the building was on fire,” he said darkly, “they’d still call me instead of the fire department.”

you stifled a laugh, but didn’t let him see. “maybe you should answer it.”

his eyes cut to you — sharp, dangerous, but with that glint that said he wasn’t mad at you. “brat. if i answer that phone, you’ll stay mad at me. if i don’t answer, they’ll stay mad at me.” he brushed a kiss against your forehead, like it was the simplest decision in the world. “i’d rather it be them.”

you blinked. okay. fine. that was… kinda smooth. infuriating, but smooth.

“hmph,” you muttered again, but softer this time, tucking your face into his chest so he wouldn’t see the corner of your mouth twitching.

he chuckled, low and smug, tightening his hold until there was no escaping. “thought so. sulk all you want, baby. i’m not going anywhere tonight.”

and sure enough, his phone kept buzzing on the nightstand — and sukuna didn’t so much as glance at it.

instead, he sulked with you, pressing lazy kisses to your hairline every so often like you were the only thing worth dealing with tonight.

the phone buzzed again. you felt his chest rumble, deep and low — not quite a growl, but close enough.

“unbelievable,” he muttered, snatching it off the nightstand again. his thumbs flew, his jaw tight.

you leaned over just in time to see him type:

it’s past working hours. do you people not have families? friends? a fucking hobby? unless someone’s bleeding out or dead, this is NOT my problem until tomorrow morning.

he hit send. a beat later, three dots blinked. then disappeared. no reply.

you covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. “did you just… scold them for working?”

his head turned slowly, those sharp eyes locking on yours, unimpressed. “it’s called boundaries. something none of them seem to understand. i give them six figures and healthcare, not my bedtime.”

you couldn’t help it — you laughed outright, burying your face against his shoulder. “you’re insane.”

“no.” he slid the phone back on the nightstand with finality, then rolled over so he was half on top of you, pinning you into the sheets. “i’m a man who wants his wife’s attention without a fucking corporate daycare buzzing in his ear.”

his hand tilted your chin up, his voice dropping, low and rough. “now, is it time to get laid?”

you just giggled at him.

the phone buzzed again. sukuna snatched it off the nightstand with the same energy a man would have if he caught a fly midair. his thumb slid, eyes narrowing as he read.

“‘sorry, sir, won’t happen again.’” he repeated it out loud, mocking the tone. “won’t happen again? won’t happen again? you clowns said that last week. do these people have short-term memory loss or are they just stupid?”

you snorted into the pillow, hiding your grin. he glanced at you sharply. “don’t laugh. i’m serious. they’re going to turn into corporate zombies, and guess who gets dragged into cleaning up their brainless mess?”

“their boss,” you mumbled, muffled by the duvet.

“exactly. their boss who wants one damn night off to eat dinner with his wife and maybe get laid before midnight.” he dropped the phone back on the table, rolled over you, and caged you in with both arms. “but no. apparently i’m the only man alive who believes in a boundary.”

you tilted your chin up, biting your lip to stop from smiling. “oh, the tragedy. poor boss man, held hostage by his six-figure minions.”

he narrowed his eyes. “you’re mocking me again.”

“maybe.”

his response was to shove his face into your neck, groaning dramatically. “my wife hates me. my employees hate me. i should just retire and become a monk.”

“mm. monks don’t get wives.”

“then i’ll start my own religion. i’ll be worshipped for my godly work-life balance, and you can be my high priestess.”

before you could quip back, his phone lit up again. you both froze.

this time, it wasn’t his assistant. it was Yuji.

he sighed. “what is this, a parade? do i look like a hotline?”

but he still answered. “what the hell do you want, brat? it’s late.”

“unckuna, chill,” yuji’s voice crackled through. “i wasn’t calling for you.”

sukuna froze, glanced at you, then narrowed his eyes at the phone. “…excuse me?”

“auntie’s there, right?” yuji’s tone immediately softened, dripping in fake innocence. “hi, auntie! how are you doing?”

your lips twitched, fighting a laugh. “hi, baby. what’s wrong?”

yuji sighed dramatically. “ugh. it’s dad. he’s being annoying again. i can’t with him tonight. can i—” a beat, then he shifted into sugary sweet mode— “can i sleep over at your place? pleeease?”

sukuna growled. “you have a grandfather, don’t you? go bother him.”

“no way. grandpa snores like a chainsaw,” yuji said flatly. “besides… auntie makes the best hot chocolate. and she doesn’t nag me about how i’m ‘just like your uncle.’”

your hand flew to your mouth, stifling a laugh. sukuna glared.

“you little shit,” he muttered. “you think I don’t see what you’re doing? buttering her up so I say yes?”

“me? buttering up? never,” yuji gasped, all mock-offended. “i’m just being honest. she’s way cooler than you. no offense.”

“offense taken,” sukuna snapped.

but then you gently touched his arm, a small smile tugging at your lips. sukuna huffed. “don’t you dare give me that look—”

“please, ‘kuna.” your voice was soft. “let him stay.”

and just like that, the man who had chewed out billionaires in a meeting hours earlier was folding like paper. he dragged a hand down his face.

“fine. one night,” he gritted out. “but if you raid my fridge again, brat, I’m throwing you out the window.”

“love you, unckuna!” yuji cheered. “auntie, you’re the best! i’ll be there in ten—”

click. sukuna hung up before he could finish.

he groaned, dropping his head against your shoulder. “why does everyone in this family go through you to get to me?”

you smirked, pressing a kiss against his jaw. “because i’m the nice one.”

“yeah, well. maybe too nice.” sukuna tightened his arm around you, grumbling. “you’re both lucky I love you. that’s all I’m saying.”

yuji being true to his word or not… rang the doorbell thirty minutes later. you and sukuna moved to the couch for some cuddles and movie night after he took some quick shower.

both of you wearing those matchy checkered pajamas you got at some department store you were walking around in a month ago for the purpose of budgeting your finances for a day. clearly, that didn’t end well as you bought 10 matchy pajamas. all ready for the holidays and other shits you two celebrate.

sukuna groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. “don’t answer it. maybe he’ll think we’re asleep.”

you gave him a look. “he’s sixteen, not a stray cat.”

“same thing,” sukuna muttered darkly, but he still got up, stalking toward the door with murder in his eyes.

he swung the door open, already irritated, and the first thing he saw was the bag.

there was yuji, dragging a fucking duffel bag twice his size and looking like the world’s most tragic orphan. “unckuna.” his voice cracked on purpose. “he kicked me out.”

“he did NOT kick you out,” sukuna snapped. “you live in a mansion, brat. don’t play victim.” that made you turn a head at sukuna and narrowed your eyes at him as if he can sense murder from you. and the teenager just grinned at him as if everything that’s been going on is completely normal.

“and…what the fuck is that.” of course, your husband continued.

yuji, sweating a little, shifted the duffel higher on his shoulder. “my… overnight bag.”

“overnight?” sukuna sneered, eyes narrowing. “kid, that’s a weekender. no—” his gaze sharpened, “—that’s a seven-day siege kit.”

“unckuna, come on,” yuji said sheepishly, sidestepping him into the foyer. “I just packed, y’know… essentials.” he went on as he pulled his phone and opened it to the notes app and showed it to sukuna.

“essentials?” he then grabbed yuji’s phone and checked the list the latter made and brought in his big ass duffel bag.

“three pairs of sneakers. half your manga shelf. your PS5. and—” he pushed the phone back to yuji and tugged at the strap until the duffel bag thudded to the floor with a suspicious clink— “protein powder. that’s not ‘essentials,’ brat, that’s moving in.”

yuji threw his hands up. “okay, so maybe I thought I’d stay… a couple nights.”

“a couple?” sukuna barked. “don’t bullshit me. you came here planning a week-long vacation at my expense.”

you stepped in before he blew a vein. “kuna, relax. he’s just a kid.”

“he’s not a kid, he’s a parasite,” sukuna muttered, jabbing a finger at yuji. “and parasites get exterminated.”

“uncle, please,” yuji said, turning on the theatrics. “dad was being impossible. he started nagging me about school again, and then he compared me to you.” he paused, side-eyeing sukuna, then smiled. “which, by the way, I think is a compliment.” his nose scrunched. “like, why is that even an insult? you’re rich, terrifying, and you’re dating her. sounds like a win to me.”

“don’t drag me into your daddy issues,” sukuna grumbled as he dropped yuji’s duffle bag on the kitchen counter and then grabbed himself a glass of whiskey.

yuji ignored him completely, turning to you with big, pleading eyes. “auntie, you get me, right? dad just doesn’t understand. he wants me to be boring. like, Jin-level boring.”

you bit back a laugh. “baby, maybe he’s just worried about you.”

“worried, my ass,” sukuna cut in. “Jin’s projecting because he peaked in college.”

“HEY,” yuji pointed at him, smirking. “finally! something we agree on!”

sukuna downed his whiskey in one go. stress being the main factor, maybe?

“you’re staying in the guest room,” he barked. “doors closed. no noise. and don’t you dare wake us up before noon.”

yuji grinned at you, victorious. “thanks, auntie. you’re literally the best.”

“don’t thank her,” sukuna muttered. “thank the fact that she bats her eyelashes at me and I lose all ability to say no.”

“YESS,” yuji fist-pumped, dragging the bag from the counter and sauntering his way down the hall. to his designated guest bedroom at your house. it’s not a guestroom anymore though with how frequent he’s been staying with you guys… well, last time he was here was a week ago.

sukuna glared at his retreating figure, then downed his whiskey in one gulp. “unbelievable. this was supposed to be date night. I was supposed to get laid until tomorrow morning.”

“kuna!” you hissed, swatting his arm.

but yuji’s voice rang from the hallway anyway: “EW YOU KNOW THAT I CAN HEAR YOU, RIGHT?”

sukuna pinched the bridge of his nose. “one week. one fucking week.”

———

a/n: hi i’m officially back and i’m sorry for typos or some stuff i just typed this in my phone lol AND guess what ??? this girl has a freaking j*b for more than a month now and thi story actually inspired me of people who dON’T HAVE BOUNDARIES AND KEPT MESSAGING ME PAST WORKING HOURS UGH (my work actually is somewhere along the lines of interacting with people lol) ok anw i’ll shut up and post the other stories i’ve been dumping 2 months ago by this week (the one i uploaded a screenshot of lol)

#unckuna :3 #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #good fic

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