Pregnancy Cravings | Toji Fushiguro ~ The One Where He Tries Your Odd Cravings

Pregnancy Cravings | Toji Fushiguro ~ the one where he tries your odd cravings

─➭ pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! wife reader

─➭ mentions of: reader is pregnant, anything pregnancy related, super fluffy, weird food combinations(?), toji is a lil meanie but he’s a good man here

note: i’m trying to get back into writing so i’m posting this draft i never finished

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Toji Fushiguro loves you with all he’s got and that’s a fact. He knows you like the back of his hand because you molded yourself into his and megumi’s life. So when you told him that you’re pregnant, he was practically holding back tears because he finally made what he wanted with you true.

Now going back to him knowing you like the back of his hand, that changed when you got into your second trimester of your pregnancy.

Your food cravings were the bane of his existence because of how much it changed your food choices. The things you used to like made you sick in an instant. The smell of pork belly bowl used to make your mouth water and now you turn green then run to the bathroom.

And don’t get him started on the weirdest shit you put together and that shouldn’t be together.

One time it was peanut butter and chicken. Another was vanilla ice cream with bacon bits on top, specifically from the diner that you and toji take megumi to during lunch. And this recent snack was another added to the list.

It was the ass crack of dawn when Toji woke up to hearing cupboards opening and closing, along with the fridge. He sighed as he rolled onto his back to see if you were awake but it turns out that you weren’t even in bed. To him that was an immediate sign that you woke up hungry and craving.

He throws the blanket off before getting out of bed to walk towards the kitchen. And sure enough, there you were eating a spoonful of god knows what.

“Doll…,” he quietly calls to you.

You let out a little squeak in surprise hearing the man’s deep but hot ass voice from behind you. “You scared me,” you whine with a pout.

Toji smiles as he walks towards you and sees a bowl in your hands and glides his hands on your hips. “What are you eating so early in the damn morning?” he grumbles.

“Watermelon,” you say as you lift the fork with a piece of watermelon to his mouth.

But there’s something on the watermelon. Toji doesn’t hesitate to form a scowl on his face seeing that there’s white stuff on top of it. “The fuck is that?” he deadpanned.

You roll your eyes because he’s being dramatic. “It’s good, trust me,” you say.

“That didn’t answer my question, babydoll.”

“Well, it tastes good so try it,” you bite back.

The man doesn’t trust you one bit because you crave weird shit but he can’t say no to you. So he silently answers you by taking the piece of fruit in his mouth.

And sweet god did that taste GROSS…

Toji spit it out into the sink he was next too before he could even get another bite in. “Was that fucking mayonnaise?!” he whisper-yelled, “Fuck, that was sour!”

You roll your eyes with pout because he was being unnecessarily dramatic and a bit mean. “Yeah, it’s that Kewpie mayonnaise…,” you say quietly.

“God, that was fuckin’ nasty,” he sighs aggressively as he grabs a water bottle to drink out of, “How can that taste good to you?” he says as he turns back to you.

You look up at him with a deeper pout. “Why don’t you ask the child that’s growing inside me. Jerk…,” you mumble the last part before waddling away with the bowl in your hands.

Your husband aggressively lets out a sigh as he rubs his eyes with the ball of his palms. “It’s too early for this,” he mumbled as he began to follow you out to the patio of your backyard. He leaves the screen door open to listen for Megumi as he sees you bundled up in the comfy lounge chairs eating the god awful snack in your hand.

He walks towards you in big strides as you ignore him and keep your eyes on on the backyard. He stands next to you waiting for you to acknowledge him but you still ignore him. You know he’s seething in his mind right now because he hates the silent treatment. It continues for another 45 seconds till a squeal was pulled out of you as Toji effortlessly picks you up just to sit himself back down on the chair with you on his lap.

And damn it, the man was warm. You didn’t bother to fight out of his hold because you chose to cuddle right into his chest. You nuzzle your forehead into his neck and position your fuzzy socked feet in between his thigh and the dip of the chair. You keep the bowl of watermelon on your lap to continue eating.

Toji was pulling the blanket that was covering over you to fit both of you as you got comfy on his lap. One of his arms wrap around your round tummy oh so gently to get you as close to him as possible. His other arm wrap around your legs to keep your lower half warm.

“I’m still mad,” you mumble softly as you shove another piece of watermelon in your mouth.

“I know, baby,” he smiles softly feeling you chew with your cheek against his chest, “I’m still a jerk but don’t be a brat and sit out here without me in the cold.” You smile at his “apology” as you continue eating with silence. Then you hear Toji sigh before he speaks again,

“Just so you know…I’ll always be grateful that you’re my wife and the mother to both my kids.”

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𝙣𝙨𝙛𝙬<3

watching a movie with gojo & a sex scene comes on, he’s talking so much shit about how “the guy isn’t fucking her right”, “her moans are so fake” n you tell him to shut up, as if he could do any better.. “wanna find out?” he says with his big dumb mouth adorned with his usual annoying smirk and and you tell him absolutely 𝙣𝙤𝙩. not even his wildest dreams-

MDNI

so he must be dreaming right now because he swears you just came for the 4th time all over his dick with him barely grazing your clit???

he 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 be dreaming right? because there’s so way you just moaned out his name “s-torr-uuu” while you leave angry red marks all over his toned shoulders

he must be dreaming because there’s absolutely no way you’re under him right now folded in a mating press, squirting all over his abdomen while he fucks his cum into you right?? telling you, “‘s fucking messy for me pretty baby haha, look at the mess we made!!”

leaning down to ur ear and sucking your earlobe into his mouth as he whispers “still think i don’t know how to fuck?”

he’s healing

actor!kento headcanons

ft. nanami kento x reader

content warnings: fluff, general actor headcanons, implied nanami x reader

wc: 749

note: i really have fun doing this, let me know if you guys want more for other characters! 🫶🏻

gojo version, toji version

 as an actor:

i feel like he would be more humorous and laid back than his character

usually the one who starts teasing his closest castmates (probably haibara and gojo)

treats the 1st and 2nd year casts as his kids

especially the twins, yuuji and sukuna

acts like a father figure to them on set and takes care of them whenever they had a very exhausting scene to film (like fight scenes and such)

he's also the one who breaks the twins up whenever they have playful banter with each other

puts up with gojo more outside their characters and is actually tolerating his antics on set 

will sometimes have a giggle fit whenever someone makes a light mistake during filming like voice cracks and stumbling during fight scenes

believe it or not, he's really the type to join gojo and geto in creating light pranks to the other casts

when a scene needs to be filmed before the sun even goes up, he pulls up to the shoot with coffee and the casts' (even the crew!) favorite drinks

knows their coffee and drink orders BY HEART

the producers love him because he's such a sweetheart

whenever he smiles (an example is during that mahito scene where he was trapped in his domain expansion and in the restaurant with ino), the crew is literally the definition of "got me kicking my feet, giggling, and twirling my hair" LOL literally big fans of him

speaking of mahito, people are surprised to know that they're very good friends and actually went to the same middle school

he is usually the one that he practices his lines with aside from his spouse

he CANNOT for the life of him practice his lines with gojo and geto alone because they will have a giggle fit every time 😭 they can't take it seriously pls

also shares his bentos made by you to his co-stars which they really REALLY love

he also takes his physic very very seriously and works out on a daily basis but it doesn't mean he won't enjoy a good cheat meal (which is also very often because whenever filming gets busy, they resort to take outs) hence he compensates by working out more

gojo really likes to touch and squish his biceps from time to time istg this man

believe it or not, he has an instagram, but his face is barely posted unless it's a promotion or magazine shoot

most of his posts includes foods, behind the scenes of some shoots, and his spouse, you

fans are raving and gushing about it

he also has highlights that are just food, travels, behind the scenes on the shows he is in

as a husband: 

unlike his character, he stays to work overtime most of the time (not that he wants to, it's just he NEEDS to) which you understood head on before you married him and before his stardom 

you usually prepare his bentos before he goes to work 

which is most the time also appreciated by his workmates so you make more portions to satisfy their stomachs as well

but whenever his hectic schedule and yours clash that you don't have the time to prepare him one, he settles with takeouts and convenient store foods which is enough to fill him up but it just does not hit the same :((

he practices his lines with you as a form pf quality time, his schedule is so packed that he takes every single free moment with you as a bonding experience

but sometimes he doesn't because he hates giving you spoilers and wants his scenes to be a surprise for you (*wink wink* hair grab scene *wink wink*)

the kids, the 1st and 2nd year casts (and maybe even gojo), goes to your shared home to crash if they're too tired to go home from the shooting site if your house is the closest

the 1st year trio, especially yuuji, goes by your home often whenever he gets easily bored 

even though you're not the part of the crew, for how often they go to your home, you also treat them as your kids (yes, including gojo)

whenever they're around, it's always so loud and lively but both you and nanami are not complaining 

03:47 ෆ ITADORI YUUJI

⠀ for: @driaswrld sorry pookie for the emotional dmg (-ω-、)

“yuu,” you grunt, hands flailing out in the darkness as you try to push your lug of a boyfriend away from you, “stars, you need to stop eating so much, you weigh as much as a tractor trailer.”

the response you get is a long snore, followed by the soft smacking of his lips.

normally, you wouldn’t complain about your sweet boy’s body weight or the comforting pressure of his limbs draped over you, but currently, you’re facing a singularly unique experience that no one has ever seen happen before—you need to pee. badly. yuuji has been bulking lately, meaning for dinner you have to make about three servings of food, all for him, and then a fourth serving for yourself (of which he usually finishes off for you if you can’t manage to eat it all).

not to say you dislike watching your boyfriend’s gym experiences, or even that you discourage them, but you’re just annoyed now that he’s gained about 5-10 pounds of muscle mass that you can barely manage to push him off of you.

he’s not a gentle sleeper. in fact, he’s single-handedly the most violent sleeper you’ve ever met and the first time you’d stayed over at his apartment, he scared you awake at least three or five times. now, you’re so used to his sudden spasms and uncontrollable snoring that it hardly phases you, or you can just ignore it and fall asleep again, but the discomfort of needing to pee has taken precedence over anything else.

yuuji is truly lucky you love him more than anything else, right now, because he’s star-fished himself across your queen-sized bed, an arm over your stomach and his legs flung over both of yours while the blanket is tangled between both of your bodies. he is happily snoozing away, blissfully deep in dream world as you continue trying to push him off.

this wouldn’t be an issue, because despite his bulking and the near constant complaint of ‘yuu, you weigh too much for us to wrestle properly because you always win!’, normally, you can at least shove him off enough to scramble out of the tangle of limbs.

tonight is an issue because he’s clingy.

yuuji is a stage-five clinger in his sleep only a third of the time. most of the time you’re free to come and go as you please, but sometimes, on rare occasion, he can psychically know you’re trying to leave the bed and stop you in his sleep. he’ll grab your waist and shove his face in your neck, he’ll snag a wrist and interlace your fingers, and on the one rare time, he’ll somehow hook his foot around your leg and make you fall back onto the bed. it was insane, the lengths he would go to to make you stay in the comfort of your bed—all while miraculously asleep.

so, you’d tried to sneak out of bed to pee and he’d grabbed your hip, forcing you back into bed with the grip of a man desperate to keep you by his side. you’d find it endearing if you weren’t about to pee your pants.

“i love you,” you whisper, turning your head to press your nose into his cheek and trying to burn a hole in his head, “but i’m gonna murder you if you don’t wake up and let me leave.”

“s’love you.” he mutters. he tilts his head towards you and presses a kiss to your nose.

you narrow your eyes. “what’s megumi’s middle name?”

“francis.”

he’s not awake. the poor boy wouldn’t have lied so easily if he was awake, and you are left to flop against the mattress helplessly.

you hate waking him up because he always looks like someone kicked a puppy in front of him and then told the dog it sucked. it just wasn’t nice and he deserved all the nice things in the world. you also hate waking him up because he is somehow such a deep sleeper. you’d have to be screaming your lungs off at an intruder for him to wake up in perfect lucidity.

you’ll have to find another plan to sneaking away from him and going to the bathroom. you wouldn’t give up, but you’d bide your time. eventually he’d have to move away from you and then, that’d be your chance to slip away.

(you end up falling asleep in his embrace and running to the bathroom frantically when the sun rises.)

"you can't eat blueberries for dinner."

the berry pinched between your thumb and forefinger pauses just at the threshold of your parted lips, your eyes flickering up to the man before you who watches you with his hands on his hips. you hold eye contact as you pop it into your mouth, something almost smug in the deliberate maintenance of his stare.

"god gave me free will and a chequing account, so actually i can do whatever i want."

rintarou doesn't find this funny–he does actually, but he refuses to give you the satisfaction of knowing that–and his expression stays passive as he watches you pop another little blue fruit into your waiting mouth. he continues to stare, and you continue to eat (ignoring him) until finally he sighs and shuffles away.

you have very little time to appreciate your victory before you hear a racket coming from the kitchen.

you wouldn't consider yourself a particularly intrusive person, by nature. you're generally happy to live and let live, especially when it comes to your longterm, live-in boyfriend: oftentimes it's better not knowing what suna's up to, for your own sanity. but your nosiness, and his noisiness, soon gets the better of you, and you shuffle over to the kitchen with your little bowl of blueberries in tow.

"what are you doing?" you ask, watching as rintarou rifles through the refrigerator in a crouch. there's something very primitive about his stance, hunter-gatherer even–though you know enough about him to know that were he a hunter-gatherer he'd be unlikely to survive a winter.

suna rises from his stoop with a strange assortment of ingredients in his arms, none of which really go together, and he looks at you proudly.

"i'm making you dinner."

you scrunch up your nose.

"uhhhhh-" you draw out the noise as your brain struggles for a proper response. "i'm not hungry."

he might even have believed you, if you hadn't popped a handful of blueberries into your mouth just after saying it.

rintarou drops his armful of ingredients onto the counter, looking at you pointedly.

"you can't eat blueberries for dinner," he repeats his earlier point firmly.

"why not?" you parry petulantly.

"blueberries aren't a meal. they're a fruit."

"they have antioxidants. they're anti-aging."

suna pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out a long, aggrieved breath. "you're the most pro-aging thing in my life."

you waggle a finger at him accusatorially. "don't blame me for your grey hairs. if anything blame atsumu–he beat me to you by like three years."

rintarou places his palms flat on the counter and leans towards you on the other side. "baby, let me make you dinner."

he's changed his tactic now, playing a different angle in his effort to persuade you. he's softened his tone, lets his lashes flutter in a demure blink, his lower lip pouts slightly. in any other argument it may have been enough to sway you.

there's just one problem:

suna rintarou cannot cook to save his own life.

this is not to say that rintarou can't feed himself, or relies on you to take care of him in that regard. suna's happy to eat whatever he manages to scrape (or singe) together for his own consumption, and does it without complaint. it's just that, in all the time the two of you've been together, you can count on your own ten fingers the number of times he's made a meal that could be considered edible (and that's under relatively lenient terms.)

it really only becomes an issue at times like these.

"rin," you start, choosing your words very carefully, "i'm really not that hungry."

"it's the first night all week you've been home in time for dinner," he argues, "shouldn't you eat a real meal?"

he's not necessarily wrong–much to your eternal dismay. you've been working late all week, and it's the first evening you've made it home while the sun is still up, let alone at an hour that could be considered a normal meal-time. but as a result of your long work days, you're left with no energy to even think about what you might want to eat, let alone prepare something. even just ordering takeout seems too involved for the meagre amount of brainpower you have.

ergo, blueberries.

"i'm too tired," you say, your shoulders slumping slightly. you set your (mostly eaten) bowl of blueberries down on the countertop in front of you.

suna watches your body language shift, sees the visible deflation of your frame. he approaches you, slinking up alongside and pressing himself into you, an arm snaking around your waist. it's comforting, protective even. it makes you feel nice.

suna tugs you into him a little bit further, and you don't have the energy (or the desire) to fight him off. you let him pull you into his arms, burrowing your face in the front of his t-shirt, and you feel his palms brushing comfortingly along your back.

"long week?" he murmurs into the top of your hair after a moment of letting him hold you. you nod as much as you can, squished against his chest. his hands stop patting along your spine, and (mortifyingly) you let out an involuntary sound of displeasure, he chuckles lightly and then resumes the motions, swaying you gently while he's at it.

it's kind of nice, just letting him hold you like that.

you might even call it romantic if you could ever consider yourself so sentimental.

emphasis on might though, because your stomach chooses that exact moment to rumble, shattering any semblance of ambiance that may have existed.

rintarou laughs, really laughs, when it happens. it's the kind of laugh where you know if you were to look at him his teeth would be bared and his eyes would be crinkling, his head tipped back in his mirth. but you don't look up at him, instead you groan and press your face even further into his chest to hide your shame.

suna's arms wrap around your waist, squeezing you tightly before hoisting you up–still laughing as he plunks you down onto the kitchen counter right between his forgotten ingredients and your abandoned blueberries, slotting himself between your legs.

he takes your chin in his hand and tilts your face up to meet his, your nose scrunched up in embarrassed indignity. he kisses your cheek, but he's grinning, so you mostly just feel the press of his teeth.

"at least one part of you is honest," he teases.

you can't really even argue with him, given the circumstances.

suna steps away for a moment, reaching up to the top of the refrigerator and snatching the stack of takeout menus to nagano's finest(-ish) eating establishments (at least within 6 blocks) that the two of you have collected over the years. he fans them out between his fingers and totes them over to you, slipping back between your thighs and holding them up in front of your nose.

"pick one," he says.

"rin, i'm too tired to-"

"just pick a menu and i'll do the rest," he assures you gently. "i'll order, pick up, and hand deliver it right to you on that couch,"–he nods his head over your shoulder in the direction of your living room–"all you have to do is pick one."

you peer at him for a moment, a little shocked–a little moved–by his thoughtfulness.

you place a hand over his and gently lower the fan of takeout menus between you, craning up to press your mouth to his. he seems a little bit surprised by the gesture, but happily reciprocates, parting his lips against your own and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

you pull away before anything gets too heated, plucking a menu at random from his hand.

"this one," you say, clearing your throat and looking away coyly, a heat prickling through your cheeks.

rintarou laughs lightly, taking the menu you've chosen with a nod. he kisses your cheek again.

"whatever you want," he agrees, turning the menu over to see which restaurant you've chosen for your evening's meal.

"you're being really nice to me," you say to him quietly, appreciatively, as close to proper thanks as the two of you usually ever get.

he lifts his gaze from the menu to peek at you.

"duh," he replies, "i love you."

the heat in your cheeks intensifies, and you can't blame the feeling in your stomach on a pang of hunger.

you can't help but laugh at how plainly he says it.

"besides," he goes on to add, setting the menu down under his palm on the kitchen counter, dipping down until the two of you are nose to nose and your lips are almost brushing, "i'm getting dinner, so that means you're responsible for dessert."