Space They Cannot Touch

44.

"Faster"

Tom grunted as he picked up the pace, one hand clinging to your suspenders, the other tangled in a fistful of your hair as he slammed into you. Your hands were splayed against the wall, the only thing keeping you from punching a hole through the plaster. Your folds screamed for reprieve but you didn't care.

It had taken almost two months for you to feel somewhat physically normal post-op, your uterus not taking kindly to having its contents forcibly removed, nor did your hormones appreciate being regulated by your thyroid medication. Despite your body fighting normalcy, your mental health was improving, thanks to Dr Marchant. She listened without judgement and didn't try to solve the problem, as Tom usually did. She allowed you to vent your frustrations whilst showing you what you were overanalysing or obsessing over, and you left your sessions feeling physically and mentally lighter .

Tom, whilst still being his usual supportive noble self, had in the last week or so become increasingly agitated, and it wasn't until you accidentally walked in on him masturbating that you realised why. Given your complete lack of sex drive you'd been ambivalent at best to Tom's needs, opting to wear your daggy, old holey clothing that was two sizes too big as you rotated from couch to bed.

"Toooom" you had whined one night as Tom pulled you into his arms, hands creeping under your oversized tee to massage your breasts.

"Please" he whined in response, nuzzling your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh of your neck. You squirmed to free yourself and he let go of you with a dramatic sigh, lying back on the couch and staring at the ceiling. You knew he was trying to be understanding, but even Tom had his limits.

"I'm sorry Tom, I just feel...bleh" you mumbled, looking away as you brushed your hair from your face. 

Whilst your mental health had been improving in leaps and bounds, your body hadn't bounced back so well post-op. Since the surgery, your stomach was softer, malleable in a way that it hadn't been before. You knew it was mostly water weight but you had never felt self-conscious of your body like this, nor had you expected it to bother you so much. You hadn't told Tom but one day when he wasn't home you tried on one of your lingerie sets, mortified as your flesh squeezed out of the skimpy fabric. You'd stuffed the lingerie in the bottom of your drawers, determined to not let Tom see you naked until you'd regained your pre-op figure.

"But why?!" Tom asked agitatedly, sitting up and brushing his unruly curls out of his face. "You're beautiful, even when you're wearing my shirts and those God awful sweats with the holes and coffee stains. Isn't it enough that I want you?". His face was clear of any falsity, and you wanted to kiss him for his sweetness.

"It's not that, I just -"

"Or do you not want me?" Tom asked softly, cutting you off.

"What?!" you gasped. "NO! I will never not want you Tom, it's just that I -"

"Well, what is it then? Because I thought you were feeling better since the surgery. You've been more like yourself lately"

"I am, I mean, I do feel better, but -"

"What?" Tom prompted. You looked at your hands, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Tom gently took hold of your chin, lifting your face till your eyes locked with his. "Please tell me. Because I'm about losing my mind trying to get you to show any interest in me"

"I feel fat" you murmured softly.

"What?"

"I feel fat" you said, shifting to lift your shirt, grabbing a fistful of soft flesh. "See? Fat"

Tom glared at you, mouth a thin line. "Y/N. Are you being serious with me right now?"

"Yes! I mean look at you! Who wouldn't want you or find you attractive?! You have literally millions of people lusting after you. And since the surgery my stomach isn't the same, and I just feel like this old fat frumpy blob. I didn't think you'd want me like this"

Tom stared at you a moment longer, as if trying to determine if you were being serious. He sighed heavily, burying his head in his hands. "Why?"

"Why?" you repeated dumbly.

"Why wouldn't I want you like this? Have I not proven my love for you to be deeper than physical appearances? Do you think I'm that shallow Y/N?"

"No! I don't know what I thought. But I don't have the same confidence that I used to. It's a lot of pressure being seen with you, you know. You're practically flawless" you sulked.

Tom snorted loudly, lifting his head from his hands. "I'm hardly flawless, Y/N. Do you think I'm comfortable with all this extra weight?" he said, gesturing to himself.

Whilst you hadn't had much of a sex drive, you weren't blind. Tom and his trainer had been working hard in preparation for Spider-Man: Far From Home, going through the exhaustive and difficult process of bulking. Tom's biceps were now twice their usual size and whilst he still had an abdomen that you could eat off, there was now a heaviness to him, a solidity that you found exceptionally appealing, though you didn't think you'd ever not find him devastatingly and distractingly attractive.

"Do you think that I don't like you with the extra weight?" you asked softly, realisation dawning.

"Kinda hard not to, seeing as you've been rejecting my advances for the last week or so"

You sighed. "Shit. I'm sorry Tom. I actually love you a little thicker. You look...I don't know how to explain it, but trust me when I say I love it. Plus, you being a bit heavier makes me feel a little less fat. But only a little"

Tom smiled ruefully at you. "I happen to like you with a little extra meat on your bones. Not only do you look healthier, but it also means your arse gets bigger. More for me to grab hold of!" he teased, winking at you as he grabbed hold of your bum for effect. You giggled, elbowing him gently.

"God, we're a right pair of idiots aren't we" you mused ruefully.

"Yeah, we are"

"Alright then stud. Give us a kiss and show me how much you love me"

"Anything for you BabyDoll"

The pressure in your gut was building, an anticipation that made your legs quiver.

"Can - I -" 

"Yes" Tom grunted, knowing the question before you could put it into words.

You gladly released, gasping loudly as your body seized, nerves tingling up and down your legs. Tom untangled his fist from your hair to squeeze your ass, clutching greedily at your flesh, murmuring to himself before groaning loudly as he came.

He rested his head between your shoulder blades, lips pressing into your skin as he held you close through the final shuddering throes of his orgasm. You revelled in his arms around you, the strength of him, the reassurance and comfort you found in his touch. 

As you two lay in bed later that evening, your head resting against Tom's chest, his fingers tracing the new curves of your body, you realised how happy you were.

"I love you Tom" you murmured softly, the steady beat of his heart filling your mind, lulling you to sleep.

"I love you too Y/N"

"I want a baby" you mumbled, not bothering to stifle a yawn. Tom's fingers froze on your back and you heard his heart skip a beat.

"What was that sorry?"

"I want a baby"

Tom shifted to look at you, his expression both puzzled and a little nervous. "Uh...are you sure? What happened to not wanting to rush into anything as major and life changing as a baby?" he asked nervously.

"Do you not want one?" you asked sleepily.

"I do, I just thought you didn't"

"No. I want one. I want everything with you. The wedding, a house, a family. The whole enchilada"

Tom nodded, flabbergasted as he settled back into the pillows, and you hid your smirk as best you could.

"Right. Right. Okay...a baby" Tom mumbled, his heart still beating quickly.

"Handsome?"

"Mm?"

"I don't mean now. But one day"

Instantly his heart settled, his arms wrapping tighter around you. "One day"