Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/496915.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Young_Avengers
  Relationship:
      Kate_Bishop/Tommy_Shepherd
  Character:
      Kate_Bishop, Tommy_Shepherd
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-08-27 Words: 1918
****** And He Bows His Head ******
by Khirsah
Summary
     Tommy loves going down on Kate, her hands tugging at his hair and
     moving him exactly where she wants him to be.
You changed your name
And so did I,
But we won’t be forgiven for the mouths we tried
To fill with our hopeless seed:
Beneath her skirt, we fill our need.
—Lessons from Underneath the Kachina Woman’s Skirt, Canvas
**
“Would you…would you just…”
Tommy slides his hands up her calves, feeling the light bristle of stubble
against his palms. He remembers the last time she shaved her legs—he hadn’t
been able to resist poking his head in every forty-two seconds (on the dot) to
ask a dumb question or make a rude observation, loving the way she growled and
flicked shaving cream at his head.
She’s been using his shaving cream lately; he thinks he loves that best of all.
She smells like him.
“Tommy.”
There’s a clear warning in her voice, and he loves that too. It makes him slow
down to a crawl, tongue teasing along her folds, dipping into the slit of her
cunt before circling around. Over a hipbone, down the crease of her thigh,
across the perineum and along the outer folds again, swirling in dark hair.
“Would you…just…focus,” Kate pants, arching up in clear invitation, thighs
spreading. Tommy presses in tight, gripping her calves and lifting her legs
over his shoulders, until they hook there at the knees, heels pressed against
his spine. He leans up, mouthing across her stomach, nipping at that
infinitesimal curve that no amount of crunches has ever managed to defeat,
laving his tongue across the divit of her belly button and thinking dizzily he
could stay like this for hours. Wrapped up in her, the taste and scent of her
around him, feeling the impatience buzzing beneath her skin and knowing he
caused that, he made her want this bad enough to ache.
His palms move up and down her outer thighs, thumbs pressing in tight against
the bunched-up muscle, massaging a careful line from the insides of her knees
to the curve of her ass and riding the hitch of her body. There’s a soft pink
flush spreading down her cheeks and across her chest, and her eyes are glassy
with annoyance and want. Tommy grins against her skin, nipping a hipbone before
tracing his thumbs up and into her body, spreading her wide. He leans in and
just…breathes against her exposed clit, the delicate wings of her labia,
struggling to keep from panting as he presses his hips tighttighttight against
the mattress. She’s dripping wet, so slick he can barely stand it—a tease for
him as much as her. Tommy gives in to unimaginable temptation and snakes out
his tongue, swirling it over the tight bud of her clit, pushing at the delicate
hood before tracing down to slide into her clenching body.
“Fuck,” Kate hisses, head falling back. Her lips part, breaths coming in quick
and hard, and Tommy has to lift his head to watch her—he has to; he isn’t even
trying to be an asshole this time—staring at her in dazed silence as she twists
her hips and presses her face against the pillow, lost in waves of dark hair.
And then a single baleful eye is staring him down and he grins, thumbs rubbing
up the drenched walls of her cunt, tips only just grazing the sensitive peak.
Now he’s trying to be an asshole.
“Having a good time?” Tommy asks. He shifts his grip, pressing his thumbs in
further, pushing inside just enough to make her arch again, small, coral-tipped
breasts bouncing delightfully. He does it again, and again, watching, riding
the artless writhe of her hips as she curses and twists her fingers into the
sheets and tries to fuck herself against him.
“Whoa, whoa, impatient much?” Sliding his thumbs up and up and up, through her
slick center, over her clit just hard enough to make her tremble, her heels
digging so hard into his back he swears he’s going to bruise. “You know, I’d
almost think you wanted something from me.”
Both eyes now, narrowed into slits, and oh yeah, oh fuck, this is going to be
good.
Tommy leans down and lightly kisses her, right between her thighs, soft as
whisper. “You know, Kate, all you have to do is beg.”
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you get shit done, Tommy thinks as Kate
reaches down with startling speed—even to him!—and grabs two fistfuls of white-
blond hair. She twists her fingers in tight, not even trying to be gentle, and
shoves his head down even as she arches her hips up gracefully. Her back comes
off the bed in an exaggerated bow, feet pressing against his spine, knees
gloriously far apart. Tommy drags in a serrated breath, letting himself be
positioned, right where she wants him, right where he’s been teasing for the
good part of an hour, tongue dancing across her clit but never, never giving
her more than a taste of what she needs.
She’s got to take it; he loves it when she takes it from him.
Kate’s thumbs press into his scalp and she tugs his hair again, lifting his
chin toward her cunt, still spread open on his fingers. Tommy groans and grinds
against the bed, tongue brushing over her length again, again, falling into a
steady rhythm dictated by sharp nails against his skin.
He loves doing this for her; loves servicing her. Shoulders pressed against the
curve of her thighs, palms gripping her hips and holding her steady, face
buried between her legs, her fingers buried in his hair, he feels…
Fuck, he doesn’t feel like being introspective; it just feels good, it feels
great, Kate guiding him, wanting him, grinding down against his face as he cups
her ass and lifts her up high. She rests her weight against her shoulders,
thighs clamping down around his head, and Tommy’s not sure if he could break
free if he wanted to, but he can’t imagine ever wanting to, his tongue moving
over her in a focused, rapid rhythm now, pressing tight against her clit one,
two, three times before swirling to hook into her body, laving deep as he can
go and circling up again to push at the tiny hood and thrust over her clit once
more.
She’s twisting under/over him, their limbs so tangled together now he can’t
even fucking care who is where. He’s zeroed in on his task, following the
subtle shift of her hips and the not-so-subtle jerks of her hands, letting Kate
move him where she wants him to be, letting her take this from him. The noises
she’s making, Jesus, come spreading over his chin, trickling between her
asscheeks as he wraps his lips around her swollen labia and sucks, riding the
thrashing rut of her hips that’s almost violent enough to give him a knee to
the face and a black eye that would be awesome to explain to the rest of the
team.
Hey, Tommy, where’d you get the shiner?
Riding a wild pussy, yeehaw!
…okay, maybe it really would be awesome to explain that to the team.
Kate growls, low in her throat, and he makes himself focus again, pressing the
flat of his tongue against her clit and rubbing hard and fast, speeding up into
a rapid blur, grinning to himself as her growls become gasping, choked-off
cries, loud enough to make him slide one hand down to squeeze the base of his
cock. Fuck, he’s leaking against the mattress, precome spreading in a
glistening trail along her sheets, but he can’t stop now, can’t worry about
that—he has to make this good, has to take this to the end.
She’s flushed all the way down now, jerking and grinding against his face, grip
on his hair loosening just a little. Tommy reaches up to grip her hips as tight
as he can, muscles going hard and defined as he presses in then flips over,
lifting her with him. Kate cuts off a startled cry, one hand slapping out to
brace herself against the headboard as Tommy lays back against the pillow and
pulls her over him. Her knees dig against his shoulders, legs resting under his
back, and yeah, fuck yeah, she’s right there over his face, spread wide and
pretty and glistening.
Tommy slides his hands over Kate’s ass, tilting her hips forward to give her
the right idea, then falling back, letting her take the lead. It doesn’t take
much. Once she checks to make sure she isn’t smothering him—she isn’t; he’s
doing fine, thanks; he’s doing great—she rolls her hips forward, pressing down
onto his tongue. The sound she makes is incredible, liquid-hot, a little
breathless, like she can’t believe she’s doing this. Both hands press flat
against the headboard and her eyes are on his as she shimmies, rocking herself
over his spearing tongue, lips parting as she pants in unsteady breaths. From
this angle, he can see her breasts move with each thrust, can watch color stain
over delicate skin as dark hair tumbles across her face, coiling around her
breasts and shoulders and back, swaying back and forth, back and forth as Kate
fucks herself on his tongue, as she takes what she needs from him, as she…as
she…
He feels it against his tongue—the shuddery, quaking spasm spreading from clit
to cunt to core, uncoiling within her—before he sees it on her face. Kate’s
eyes go wide, then hooded as her cheeks flush a gorgeous berry-pink, lips
parting on ragged breaths. Her entire body trembles, riding out the shockwaves
of orgasm, and he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even let himself think about stopping.
Tommy sucks at her clit and strokes her wet folds and slicks his face with her
come, cock jerking against his belly, throbbing in time with her low, ragged
cries.
Fuck. Just, fuck.
She tips forward when it’s done, reaching down to lightly touch his hair. Tommy
licks her one last time, from tip to tip, loving the delicious shudder that
runs through her long limbs. Kate gives a soft chuff of amusement and shifts,
and he knows she’s going to make a crack about finally finding a way to make
him shut up even before she does, but that’s cool—he’s got a thousand comebacks
all at the tip of his tongue, tasting of her come.
She unhooks a leg and slides over him, sinking down against the pillow. He lets
her choose how affectionate she wants them to be now, after, pleased when she
presses a warm, open-mouthed kiss beneath his ear and twines her arms around
his neck.
“What do you want?” Kate murmurs, kissing his neck again, and he’s dizzy with
possibilities. Mostly, though, he just wants to slide down between her thighs
again, wants to nip at her sensitive skin until she’s gasping and sighing and
shifting restlessly beneath him once more. He could come from that; he has come
from that. He can’t think of anything he likes better.
Well. Maybe when she grabs his hair and forces him. That’s pretty damn cool.
“Yeehaw,” he murmurs, and Kate lifts her head enough to give him a look, one
that makes his whole body twitch with mingled amusement and need and endless,
aching affection, like his core has been cracked open ready to be filled with
whatever scraps of attention she’ll give him. Like he’s just aching for it.
But hey. Fuck introspection, right?
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