[ John knows how to tell whether or not he's dreaming, but this still feels like a fantasy, a beautiful redhead pinning him up against the wall. He could kill her pretty easily, snap her apart bone by bone, but he doesn't, just lets her grip his neck, his wrists, her body all up the back of his, her mouth at his neck as she murmurs.
When she bites, it's a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. John's blood is bright and sweet and she's not the first person to taste it - when he feels skin break he's immediately, breathlessly hard. His feet shift wider, and he makes a tiny soft noise, tips his head to give her more access to the vulnerable skin beyond the line of his beard.
John may know it's not a dream but he's also so certain nothing here matters, not really, not the way it did in the last pocket universe he'd lived in. And he'd been just as cavalier with his body there. So he won't stop Natasha, whatever she wants to do to him. ]
cake ii
When she bites, it's a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. John's blood is bright and sweet and she's not the first person to taste it - when he feels skin break he's immediately, breathlessly hard. His feet shift wider, and he makes a tiny soft noise, tips his head to give her more access to the vulnerable skin beyond the line of his beard.
John may know it's not a dream but he's also so certain nothing here matters, not really, not the way it did in the last pocket universe he'd lived in. And he'd been just as cavalier with his body there. So he won't stop Natasha, whatever she wants to do to him. ]