Rough Hands - A T.ShigarakixReader Story

Nausea.

You wake up to the feeling of rough skin grazing over the scar on the back of your shoulder. A feeling you'd grown so accustomed to.
You mumble sleepily, the words not leaving you as clearly as you'd have liked. This makes Tomuras lip curl upward, and you know what he's about to say next.
"I told you so." He says quietly but proudly and smugly.
"I'll kill you, and I'll make it look like an accident." You murmur, turning to face him.
His red eyes meet yours, his face back to being unexpressive.

"How was it?" You ask with a yawn.
Tomura shrugs, returning back to lying on his back.
"I don't like people." He replies simply, staring up at the ceiling.
"I told you we should have ditched it." You yawn, cuddling up to him, resting your head on his shoulder.
"That's not what you said." Tomura corrects.
"Shut up." You grumble.
The room goes silent again, your sternum clicking audibly when you take a deeper breath than usual, your hand running over his newly-formed abs and your leg hooking over his, making his breath hitch slightly.
You nuzzle further into him, basically treating him like the pregnancy pillow you'd been bought.

You're about to drop off to sleep when Tomura murmurs something, his words rumbling through his chest in a way that makes it hard for you to decipher.
"Hm?" You hum sleepily, moving your head ever so slightly.
"I want you to ride me again."
You choke on your own spit a little, leaning on your elbow. "W-what?"
"I want you to bounce on my cock." Tomura replies, sounding as though he's smirking in the dark.
You splutter a little, your hand still on his stomach. You hear him chuckle dryly, moving your hand lower, his cracked lips moving to your hair.

You snatch your hand back as though you'd just been burned.
"No." You say, a little rushed.
"Why?" He asks, sounding a tad bit pissed off.
You don't really have an answer that he'd like, so you go with a safe bet.
"I'm tired." You excuse, laying back down beside him.
He's silent for a moment as you settle back down, wrapping your arm around his, still cuddling him but keeping your hand far far away from his extremities.
You kiss his arm gently, hoping that being sweet may warm him up a little more again.

"It's because I'm ruined." He says simply, attempting to shake you off his arm.
Your eyes widen, your arms locking onto their grip of him.
"That's not-" You begin to argue.
It was.
"Get off me." He grunts, shaking his arm again.
"Tomu." You sigh, leaning to kiss his neck.
Placate and minimise the anger.
His body freezes up for a split second before it goes lax, and he stops shaking you off. You repeat the action, pressing your body nice and tight against his.
You feel his head twist to allow his lips to catch your own, kissing you softly, the broken skin on his mouth catching you slightly.

You roll on top of him, straddling his hips after a few more shared kisses, his breath catching a little in the back of his throat the second you make contact with his erection.
"You're tired." He says, although his hands lay either side of your waist.
You are, but you didn't want him calling himself ruined again.
"It's fine." You whisper before hushing him, kissing him again, a bit more harshly this time as if to prove your eagerness.
His mouth parts under yours, his tongue sliding over yours. He tastes like beer, which makes sense as to why he made the comment about himself earlier.

You rock against him, earning a groan from the man underneath you, his fingers tightening on your waist.
You're trying desperately to ignore the thoughts of what he'd told you earlier, but they're bouncing around your head, convincing you he's uncomfortable, that you're repeating the actions done to him all those years back.
"Stop teasing." He gasps against your lips after a few more clothed grinds of your hips. "Get to the point already."
You begin pulling his pants down, surprised that he hadn't woken up to get you to help take them off.

It's not until you pull his boxers down and his cock is revealed, precum dripping onto his stomach, that you begin to feel a little nauseous.
You ignore it, trying to swallow away all the excess spittle gathering in your mouth as you kiss the tip, his hand immediately flying to grab your hair but he quickly catches himself, his fingers loosening their grip as he gives a couple light tugs to signal for you to climb up. You slide back up to kiss him once, moving to remove the shirt you were wearing to bed.

You wish you could see his expression a little better in the dark, maybe that'd help drown out the unnecessary thoughts that he didn't want this, even though he initiated it.
He said he wanted it.
You keep trying to ignore your thoughts, and the way your stomach's twisting in a less than favourable way, hoping that it'll just go away.
But it doesn't.
You reach to line Tomura up with your entrance and the second your fingers wrap around him, the nausea becomes too much, and you have to get up in a hurry, rushing to the en suite.

Tomura seems stunned silent from the bed as you retch a couple times before pressing your head against the porcelain to cool your body down.
There's a brief silence apart from your panting and  spitting, but eventually Tomura speaks up.
"I don't like that." He says, sounding like a petulant child. "You could have just said no again."
"It's the fucking baby." You snap, getting up on shaky legs, bracing yourself on the sink for a second while you collect yourself enough to brush your teeth. "I'm not exactly enjoying it either."

Another silence between you both as you angrily brush your teeth. Annoyed at yourself for being angry and also for ruining the moment, the baby for making you sick, and also Tomura for thinking of himself. Again.
"Are you okay?" He asks, his voice a little softer this time.
"Great." You reply sarcastically, spitting out toothpaste suds and dramatically flopping into bed, onto your stomach.
Surprisingly, Tomura scowls at you.
"Don't do that."
You stare at him in the darkness, but obey, rolling onto your side, and petting your stomach gently as though you'd be able to tell if the baby was okay.

"Hug me again."  He all but orders, hooking an arm around you to pull you close to him.
You grumble a little, but it's halfhearted as you return to the position you'd been in before, your leg hooked over his, your arm around his stomach and your head on his shoulder.
It's so comfortable, and you find yourself nuzzling into him even more.
"Was it really the baby?" He asks, sounding dubious.
"Yes, Tomura."  You sigh.
He's quiet again for a brief moment.
"But it's called morning sickness."

"Yeah, well..." You yawn, your jaw cracking loudly. "That was a lie."