Natalia (the_black_widow) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2019-05-30 01:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, natasha romanoff (black widow), stahma tarr |
Who: Nat and Stahma
What: Discussing wounds
When: Recent
Where: Casa Stahma
Status: complete
Rating: PG-13 for make outs near the end
To say that Stahma was still angry over having been shot was an understatement. However, unlike some people, Stahma didn’t usually show her anger in acts of beating things, or people, up. She tended to be far too calm outwardly, but her eyes tended to give away that there was rage festering inside. She also tended to curse a lot when she was angry.
Scars were becoming normal for her in this life, something that only added to her anger. She prided herself in having perfect, smooth skin, largely because of her social standing in Castithan society. And now she had three scars, two from stab wounds, one being from her Dreams, and the latest one being a gunshot wound. So she’d become used to taking care of the scars, attempting to use cream to help lessen their appearance over time. Not that anyone other than Nat ever saw the scars on her abdomen, but the one under her collarbone? That one would be noticeable with some of the low neckline clothing she typically wore.
Stahma was in the bathroom, sitting in front of her vanity. One side of her torso was completely bare, having slipped that arm out of her robe so she could check on the gunshot wound that was healing. She was applying some cream to it, cursing the cartel that had shot her in Castithan.
“You know,” Nat said, slipping up behind Stahma and sliding her hands across her hips. “With some of the dream tech out there, there might be a way to eliminate those scars.”
Not that Nat would take up that offer. To her, scars were a part of her life, each one a story, a memory. From From Bucky’s bullet in her stomach, to a dozen scars across three lives, some were good and others bad.
But they were all identifying marks for a person who’s entire life revolved around not being easily identified and in that way they were almost precious to her. They said ‘I lived, I exist, I am more than a ghost in the night.’
Stahma lifted her head and looked at Nat’s reflection in the mirror. She leaned into her touch, not being startled by the redhead’s appearance. “Is there? Perhaps it would be an option. For this new scar, at least. It is in an inopportune place for some of my dresses.”
The two scars on her stomach were less irritating to her. Stahma was a survivor, just in a slightly different sense. She didn’t always do her own dirty work, or when she did she usually used poison. But she wasn’t above stabbing or shooting people that were threatening her. And just like Nat’s scars, hers stated that she had lived and survived.
“Some of my favorite dresses,” Nat admitted, turning her head and kissing Stahma’s bare shoulder. Her fingers dug into Stahma’s hips just a little possessively, before they loosened, but she didn’t pull back, instead pressing against Stahma’s back.
“How are you feeling, otherwise? Any pain?”
A pleased little smile crossed Stahma’s face. “I have noticed where your eyes go when I wear plunging necklines.” It was a pity that Stahma didn’t have her full dream wardrobe. Castithans were a weird mix of being highly religious, but they were far from being prudes. Plunging necklines and cuts of dresses showing off skin in places humans typically didn’t were very common.
She leaned back against Nat, enjoying the closeness of her lover.
“The pain is minimal. It is healing well.” She moved a hand and set it over one of Nat’s hands. Not for the first time, she admired the contrasts in their complexions. While Nat didn’t have dark skin by any stretch of the imagination, it seemed dark when compared to Stahma’s stark white skin. Snow White certainly didn’t have anything on a Castithan. But mostly, Stahma loved the contrast of Nat’s natural hair color combined with her own.
“It’s always a good time for me, even if it’s highly distracting.” Nat trailed her lips across Stahma’s back, to her other shoulder, then rested her chin there to look at them both in the mirror.
She liked the contrast herself, especially the way her red hair fell across Stahma’s skin as she leaned her head in. “Good. Please never do that to me again.”
“I aim to be distracting when it’s appropriate.” Because of course Stahma knew there were times when being distracting was bad. She shivered lightly at the feel of Nat’s lips trailing across her skin. She gazed at Nat’s reflection, lifting a hand to brush her fingers through her hair.
“I will do my best not to do that again.” Of course, she couldn’t promise that it wouldn’t happen any more than Nat could promise not to get shot or injured herself. There were hazards that came with their respective professions. But Stahma would take more precautions in the future to help minimize the chances of her getting shot.
Natasha smiled at the ghostly fingers in her red hair, nuzzling Stahma’s shoulder again. She couldn’t actually expect Stahma to not get hurt any more than she herself could promise not to get hurt.
“That’s good enough.” She kissed Stahma’s neck. “The only red I like on you is my hair.”
Sometimes Stahma could be a bit like a cat, leaning into the touches Nat was giving her, and pressing close to her. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back a bit as her fingers played with Nat’s hair.
“That is also the only red I like on myself as well.” She smiled.
Slowly, Nat turned Stahma around, staring at the curve of her face, her closed eyelids and nose. She kissed the tip of Stahma’s nose, hands sliding down her neck and throat, to her shoulders. Natasha didn’t know how to shut down, how to turn off the part of her that was always working analysing, thinking. But days like this she could soften it to a dull roar, and Stahma helped a great deal with that.
“Want to see if Neena wants to take the kids for a few days? Assuming she’s up for that.”
Stahma had long since learned that Nat was always working. And in some ways, Stahma was the same way. But she liked to think that she was able to get her lover to tone down the work side of her life now and then.
After she was facing Natasha, she opened her eyes, slipping her arms around her neck. “I would like that. I think it would also be good for the girls and Neena.” She lightly rubbed her nose against Nat’s as she snuggled close against her. “And good for us, of course,” she murmured.
“I’ll text her,” Natasha said. “and let you know what she says.”
She knew Neena might still be just a little jumpy from the entire situation and she couldn’t blame her. But she also thought it would be good for Neena. The girls were deprogrammed. And Neena had really liked them before… everything.
“I could use a few days….just the two of us.” She admitted, after another moment’s silence.
Stahma did hope that Neena wouldn’t mind taking the girls for a couple days, mostly because she thought it would be good for both Neena and the girls. Of course, it was only natural for Nenna to still be leery considering what had happened, and Stahma certainly wouldn’t fault her for that.
“Having a few days of just us would be wonderful,” she said with a smile, brushing her fingers against the back of Nat’s neck. “Did you wish to go somewhere or simply stay here?” She was honestly good with either option. Though if they stayed here, that most likely meant Stahma would take to casual nudity far more often than she already did, and even take it outside of their bedroom.
“Why don’t we stay here.” Nat closed her eyes, shivering at the fingers on her neck. She wasn’t in the mood for a true vacation anyway, nor could she even do a true vacation - the only time she went out of the country was on missions, and most of those weren’t even agency related.
“And we won’t even leave the property.” She had visions of skinny dipping in the pool.
“Mm, I like the sound of that,” Stahma purred, fingers still dancing along the back of Nat’s neck. She leaned closer to Nat, so that her breath danced against her lover’s lips. “I have some thoughts of how to spend our time here.”
Skinny dipping, casual nudity. And sex. Most likely a very healthy dose of sex.
Nat chuckled, breath hitching as she leaned her head forward more. She wondered if she should cut her hair again, but she liked it long, even if that was impractical in her line of work. But maybe she was allowed a little bit of that sometimes.
“Such as?”
A sultry smile curved Stahma’s lips, her eyes being hooded. “Casual nudity, skinny dipping, sex. Massages.” Stahma did like giving Nat shoulder and back massages. After all, Nat could certainly use them given her line of work.
Stahma lightly brushed her lips against Nat’s, though didn’t yet fully kiss her.
“Sex massages?” Natasha asked, half-jokingly. She lifted her fingers up, tracing Stahma’s lips slowly, sensually, her eyes intensifying as she drew Stahma in closer, allowing their lips to touch and caress. “I love you.”
“Those could be arranged,” she murmured. The way Nat’s finger traced her lips, then she was drawn closer set her on fire. She loved it, loved being enveloped in her lover’s scent and letting the rest of the world fall away. “I love you,” she responded, lips brushing Nat’s. She then kissed her fully, a slow, sensual yet searing kind of kiss.
It was a slow, gentle build up, with a kind of fire behind it that promised so much more. Nat trailed her hands down Stahma’s throat, then looped them around her waist and held her close. Red lips on white skin, like blood on snow.
Natasha deepened the kiss, as if they had all day.
Blood on snow, so long as it wasn’t one’s own blood, was a beautiful sight. Stahma had always liked the contrast between their coloring. She settled into the kiss, returning it wholeheartedly. She slid one hand up, brushing her fingers against Nat’s cheek before tangling that hand in that beautiful red hair.
Stahma arched her back, pressing into Nat much like a cat would. Stahma was rather the physical type, and she always liked how her body fit with Nat’s.
Blood on snow. Natasha was used to that, both her own and others. In her dreams, in both of them, and awake, she’d splattered blood on snow. But it was still beautiful, even when it was her own. Maybe, in a strange way, especially when it was her own, though that might have been the blood loss talking that one time. And that second time.
She moved her hands to Stahma’s back, then her backside, long fingers digging into the skin there, possessively, demandingly, even as the kiss remained almost teasingly lazy.
Stahma was less fond of seeing her own blood anywhere that wasn’t in her veins. Getting injured wasn’t something that happened overly much to her as she preferred to play things from the sidelines. Stahma had been the brains, and true power, behind Datak’s throne in both of her lives. She was the master manipulator in that way.
She groaned into the kiss, a tingle running up her spine at the way Nat’s fingers dug into her with demand. While she’d resented being Datak’s possession, she liked being Nat’s. After all, Nat saw her as an equal. Datak had always ever seen her as inferior to him.
What little of Stahma’s robe had remained on her now fell away as she detangled her arms from Natasha long enough to discard the clothing. She didn’t mind taking things slower, but she wanted to be naked right then. One hand tangled into Nat’s hair at the back of her head while her other hand trailed along Nat’s side.
Natasha loved that about Stahma. Her manipulations, her ability to find a way through anything and survive, even if Nat sometimes had to rely on the more direct route and more often than she liked.
She was wearing too much but she wasn’t about to let go of Stahma to disrobe. No, she was going to enjoy the feel of Stahma’s skin under her talented touch.
Sometimes the direct route was the only route, and Stahma wasn’t opposed to it. But she was a master at getting people to do exactly what she wanted them to do without it seeming like she was manipulating them. It was what she did best.
Second only to sex, of course.
Her skin burned anywhere that Nat touched her, her hands roamed over her lover’s body, moving to pull her shirt off. She wanted to feel Nat’s skin against her own.
There was a thrill to manipulation, Natasha would agree. To turning a situation to one’s advantage, to getting the information out of someone without them realizing that’s what was happening. They were so much alike in that way that there were times Natasha actually saw herself with Stahma even years from now. Decades.
And Natasha was someone who rarely planned her personal life any further than a year ahead of time.
She let Stahma strip her, before pushing her back onto the nearest surface, stepping between her legs, her hands roaming, her teeth scraping across the tender skin of Stahma’s throat.
They were definitely very much alike when it came to manipulation and getting information that they wanted. It was one of the reasons why Stahma was so comfortable with Natasha. And she certainly wasn’t going to be going anywhere else. She loved her, and after her tumultuous relationship with her ex-husband, she wasn’t about to give up someone who actually made her happy.
Stahma wrapped her legs around Nat’s waist, tilting her head back to expose more of her throat to her lover. She groaned, her fingers trailing over Nat’s skin, touching everything she could reach before digging her nails into the backs of Nat’s shoulders and pulling her closer against her.
“Fuck.” Nat said the word like a breath or a prayer, the sound vibrating against Stahma’s throat. “I love you.”
At that, Natasha stroked her fingers inside Stahma’s thigh, upwards and upwards until she found the warmth and wetness she was looking for. And then she bit down on Stahma’s throat as her fingers sank in deeply.
The way Nat said ‘fuck’ sent a shiver up Stahma’s spine. “I love you,” she responded, voice thick with desire and arousal. Stahma let out a loud moan at the bite and the feeling of Nat’s fingers slide inside of her. Her nails pressed harder into Natasha’s skin as her hips rocked against her hand. “Shtako,” she cursed heatedly.
Natasha grinned broadly, both at the cursing and the jerking of Stahma’s hips. She shifted herself a little bit, just enough to use her other hand to press down on Stahma’s hip to try to pin her against… whatever they were on, she was a little too far to pay any attention to anything but the racing of her heart.
She moved her head, drawing her lips close to Stahma’s ears and whispered, “I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll go blind.”
Stahma moaned at the way Nat pinned her hips and at the whisper to her ear. It sent a jolt through her body that settled in the pit of her stomach and only further aroused her.
“Fuck me,” Stahma purred against Nat’s ear before biting and tugging on her earlobe. She dragged her nails down Nat’s back for added emphasis.
“WIth pleasure,” Nat replied, her nimble fingers moving in rapid beats, her thumb feathering across sensitive skin, a grown torn from her by Stahma’s teeth and nails. And then she couldn’t think of anything else to say with words.