[ The thing with the reactor is decidedly personal in a way Tony likes to pretend it isn't. It's not really about the tech (or the violating part of it; it's just, it's whatever) — it's that sense of physical weakness too, the skin where flesh meets metal sensitive beyond hell, and that's the last thing Tony Stark will ever buy into. (Nobody's called her weak since she made her first missile and put on her second pair of louboutins.)
Steve makes allowances, shifts above her as she knew he would; he sinks into her a little more, a little deeper, a little faster, and the sound she makes, the expression on her face, it's all because of him. Her hips rock back against his thrusts, or at least try to; another moan dies in the back of her throat when he dips in to kiss her, the kiss a little sweet and a lot messy, her hand tightening in his hair. ]
Oh, fuck—
[ She gasps it out, one hand falling with a loud bang against the floor as she scrabbles, eventually reaching up to sink her nails into his back. (When Captain America tries to fuck you into the floor?
no subject
Steve makes allowances, shifts above her as she knew he would; he sinks into her a little more, a little deeper, a little faster, and the sound she makes, the expression on her face, it's all because of him. Her hips rock back against his thrusts, or at least try to; another moan dies in the back of her throat when he dips in to kiss her, the kiss a little sweet and a lot messy, her hand tightening in his hair. ]
Oh, fuck—
[ She gasps it out, one hand falling with a loud bang against the floor as she scrabbles, eventually reaching up to sink her nails into his back. (When Captain America tries to fuck you into the floor?
You better believe he's trying.) ]
—fuck me harder, I won't break, Steve, shit.