Stahma Tarr is no one's fool (noonesfool) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-11-29 20:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, natasha romanoff (black widow), stahma tarr |
Who: Natasha and Stahma
What: Having a movie night...or at least trying to have one.
When: Day before Thanksgiving
Where: Their home
Warnings: Pretty low
Natasha’s instincts were telling her that something was coming. Either it was her general experience with the OC, or her paranoia with the OC and how often things happened. She tried to put it out of her mind. It was the holidays. There would probably be a turkey invasion. She could handle that.
“Americans and their stupid holiday. I’m not looking forward to tomorrow. Between celebrating genocide and blatant cash grabs, I think I’ll stay home.”
Stahma smiled, bringing two glasses of wine over. She handed one to Natasha, and then sipped her own. “That makes two of us. If any shopping is to be done, we can do it from our computers or phones.” She sat down next to Natasha. “I shall never quite understand some of the things Americans celebrate.” Though when it came down to it, she plain would never understand Americans in general.
And sometimes she didn’t understand humans either, but that was more due to her dream bleedover than anything else.
“I understand the sentiment behind it, but the holiday is a lie.” Natasha took the glass and sipped at it. “I’m hoping for a nice quiet weekend. Of course, saying that, I’ve probably cursed myself. What about you?”
“I am choosing to play it by ear. I have come to learn that Orange County does not always comply with preconceived plans for how to spend one’s time.” Stahma sipped her wine, crossing one leg over the other. At least her dreams had seemed to have come to an end. No new ones had come in a long time, so she assumed they had stopped. It had felt like an ending, at any rate.
“You’ve got a very good point there.” Natasha smirked, subconsciously mimicing Stahma’s position and taking another sip of her wine. Her own dreams had stopped for the time being as well, which she was grateful for. It was nice to sleep easier.
“Thank you, love.” Stahma smirked and sipped her wine. “Though at least for tonight, it is just us. Whatever shall we do with this sort of time on our hands?” She eyed Natasha out of the corner of her eye. It wasn’t to be coy, it was just one of those Castithan mannerisms that she’d inherited from her dreams. Stahma tended to move her eyes before she moved her head, similar to some animals. Some people in her dreams were unnerved with how she moved.
It was a wonderful mannerism, one that Natasha had learned was different from actually being coy. She could see how it would confuse people, but she understood the hidden language there. “Movie?”
Stahma had very nuanced movements. She could move like a snake when she was being subversive, circling her prey before she struck. Right now, she was being straight-forward. Her version of relaxing, really. She always had perfect posture except for when she was reclining or in a post-sex haze. “A movie would be perfect, I think.”
It was a little unnerving, even to Natasha. That little hint that Stahma wasn’t human. But it was still a quirk of Stahma’s, and like all quirks, something to love. Or at least tolerate because of love. “What do you feel like. Netflix really should have a random button.”
It was something that when she was in public and using her human disguise, Stahma had to actively think about not moving like an alien. Castithans may physically look like humans, but they had a completely different set of movements to them. “Something that has a little bit of everything, I think. Action, intrigue and the like.”
Nodding, Nat picked a movie nearly at random. Something called The Hitman’s Bodyguard. She remembered the trailers being particularly funny. “Lets see if this one is any good.”
“That sounds good to me,” Stahma responded. At which point she decided to actually get comfortable. Which consisted of her shifting closer to Natasha and leaning into her. Even before the dreams had started, Stahma had had little respect for personal space. But this kind of getting in Natasha’s personal space was simply because she was her girlfriend and Stahma liked the physical contact.
And only a few people were ever allowed this. Stahma. The cat. Sam and Steve (in some universe somewhere, the three of them would be a lot closer than just friends). MaybeClint. Bucky. In some universes she’d spent at least a little time as more-than-friends with both.
Nat pulled Stahma into her lap and kissed her neck. “Assuming you don’t distract me.”
She smirked a bit when Natasha pulled her into her lap. Stahma tilted her chin, giving Natasha more access to her neck. “Would I ever distract you?” She teased as she closed her eyes briefly, one hand moving to brush her fingers through Natasha’s hair.
“Often. And frequently.” She turned her head up, gazing at Stahma’s face. A rare treasure,a precious gift. A chance in this life to know just a little normal. She was too much the hero deep down, even if she wouldn’t agree or admit to it, to ever go for fully normal.
Stahma had to chuckle as she looked at Natasha. Having something normal was both frightening and amazing. “Well, I cannot help it.” She was somewhat like a cat in that respect. If she wanted attention, she’d be highly insistent about getting it. She twisted some strands of red hair around her finger. Stahma always had liked how stark the contrast was between Natasha’s hair and her own skin and hair color. It was like blood on fresh snow.
One reason she’d grown out her hair had been for Stahma. That she’d missed it long had been the other reason, so it had all worked out. She smiled, and hit play on the movie. “Why do I feel like this movie could happen to me and my compatriots.”
“From the trailers I remember seeing of it, it certainly seems to have quite the humor to it. And I suppose it is true that a hitman needs a bodyguard in some cases.” Either an incompetent one, or one that was very successful and had many enemies. She shifted a bit so that she could remain on Natasha’s lap but let them both be able to see the tv screen.
“Makes me think of some of my dreams. But which one I was, I’ll leave to your imagination.” She winked, sliding her hand down Stahma’s back.
Stahma chuckled softly. “I could see you being a bit of both,” she said as she continued to idly play with Natasha’s hair. And really, Stahma could see Natasha being both the hitwoman needing a bodyguard and being a bodyguard to a hitperson. She was not one to underestimate her girlfriend. And she had quite the imagination, and Natasha being in both roles maximized the imagination.
“It’s the kind of situation that could lead to high emotions,” Natasha pointed out. And both the leads were handsome men. She could dig the mental picture.
“No doubt. I would not think hitmen would take kindly to needing a bodyguard.” It was a nice mental picture, she had to agree.
As it turned, the hitman didn’t take kindly and he also found it hilarious. It was a pretty good movie, if a little vulgar in places, but that was a Ryan Reynolds movie. “He reminds me of someone I know.”
Stahma didn’t mind the vulgarity. She may be prim and proper, but she didn’t shy away from vulgarity whatsoever. “Does he? Is it someone close to you?” She was curious in that respect.
“Not particularly. More like someone really annoying. He called himself Deadpool. He was kind of crazy, always talking like he was talking to an audience who wasn’t there.”
“He sounds like quite the character. Was he a hitman or is it just one of the characters in this movie reminded you of him?” Stahma slipped a hand to the back of Natasha’s head, lightly trailing her fingernails along her scalp.
“Assassin, mercenary, never shut up.” Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose at the memory, then groaned and leaned her head into Stahma’s nails. “Oh, don’t stop.”
“Sounds like the perfect recipe for annoying,” Stahma said. She smirked a bit and continued scratching Natasha’s scalp like that. “That feels good, I take it?”
“Feels amazing,” she assured her. “Why don’t we pause the movie and take a short break…”
Stahma chuckled huskily. “I think that sounds good to me,” she practically purred.