riverviewlogs | August catch-all

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August catch-all

WHO: Natasha, Natalia, and anyone interested
WHAT: working, walking, working out, regressing, business as usual
WHEN: month of August
WHERE: communal housing, perimeter, gym, around the city in general

NOTES: On the evening of the 14th, Natasha will come in contact with the memory loss pollen. It will take away a few very specific memories, and the ripple effect of that will make most of the last decade of so a fuzzy mess. The upshot of it all is that she’s forgotten being a part of SHIELD and will be under the impression that she somehow pulled off the biggest con in the history of cons to get herself made a part of the Avengers. Slightly more detail on the whole thing can be found here. If you want to plan something out, you can also feel free to do it in the comments there.

Also, it’s not as easy to write a specific prompt for it, but she walks everywhere she goes. So running into on her way to or from any of these options is also a very valid option.

GYM

Natasha’s at the gym at least once a day. Usually first thing in the morning, but occasionally later at night. The place empties out quite a bit after the sun sets, and it’s nice to have the quiet and all the equipment to herself. Most of the time. A few days a week, the main room where classes are held is dedicated instead to sparring, small rings set up around the perimeter. She hits those as often as she can.

PERIMETER GUARD-ING

Hurry up and wait. That is, more or less, an absolutely perfect description of being on call for Search and Rescue. Just because she’s good at it doesn’t mean it’s not incredibly boring. There are only so many playing cards you can flick into a coffee mug, only so many laps a person can run around the perimeter of the city, and only so many improvements that can be made to her gear in any given day.

If someone wants to go exploring beyond the wall, she’s quick to volunteer to accompany them, part of her hoping that something dangerous comes to investigate. So far, the creatures that stay close enough to the wall to be drawn in are more of a workout than a problem.

GROCERY STORE

Natasha’s never been much of a cook. Laura made a serious effort to help her learn back when their friendship was still a very strange and uncertain thing. Natasha didn’t know quite how to tell her that she had no desire to learn, and the older woman probably assumed it was some sort of universal bonding experience. They got over it quickly, so Natasha has very few successful recipes under her belt. Which is fine. She goes to the store a few times a week for things that are easy to eat on their own. Bars and shakes, fruit, nuts, anything that takes no thought or effort. It’s what she prefers when she’s bone tired after work.

Once Clark is gone and Jon is alone, the shopping takes a little longer. Dropping by to see him with food is mostly an excuse to check in on him every other day or so. Still, it’s an excuse that works, and if she’s going to bring food, she’d rather it be something he’d like. Which is how she ends up doing things like spending several minutes staring at two different boxes of cookies, one in each hand, attempting to get into the mind of a pre-teen boy and decide if double chocolate is better than chocolate fudge, or if a person can ever have too much chocolate.

On days she has more energy, well, she still doesn’t want to spend it cooking. There are a few nice breakfast places between the housing building and

RESTAURANT/COFFEE SHOP

The logical flip-side of not liking to cook, Nat eats out a lot. On days when breakfast isn’t a protein bar eaten on her walk to work, she takes her time at one of the places nearby with outdoor seating. It’s a habit she’s not likely to break any time soon, watching people from behind her sunglasses as she drinks her tea and eats her eggs. She’s not always subtle about it, but she’s also not exactly trying to be. There’s almost no reason to hide here. If someone notices her staring, she may even raise her cup in salute, acknowledging that yes, she was just intently watching you do whatever you were doing.

SPECIAL: AMNESIA EVENT

Natasha doesn’t have allergies, but something hits her hard after lunch on Monday - sneezing, headache, stuffed nose, the whole nine yards. It’s absolute hell, and she blows off the rest of her day to go back to the high rise and just take a fucking nap. Kicking her jeans off inside the door and flopping face first into her pillow, she’s out like a light almost immediately.

The first thing that Natalia does upon waking up in the late afternoon, her head fuzzy and her memory full of holes, is go pawing through her things looking for an explanation. What she finds doesn’t provide her with any answers, only questions. The jeans on the floor fit her, the phone in the pocket opening to her fingerprint. The conversations in the phone, they don’t sound like her. None of them. As she reads, though, memories come back. Still fuzzy, not quite fitting together. It’s not until she gets to—- she wouldn’t call it a journal. More like a bunch of disjointed thoughts that would probably make no sense to anyone else. There’s an upshot that has a whole lot coming back to her in a rush, though. The Avengers. Holy shit. How did she pull that one off?

Now that she can’t remember. Nothing. Just one giant hole in her past. She puts two and two together from a handful of panicked open messages on the network and the responses to them, including an exchange she was part of earlier in the day. The most amazing infiltration job she thinks she’s ever heard of, and she has no idea how she pulled it off.

Which is fine. This is all going to be fine. She just needs to ride it out until people figure out how to fix this. In the mean time, she’s got a job to do and a life to reacquaint herself with. Dinner sounds like a good idea, too.

[[OOC: So, not sure exactly what date this is all getting fixed on, but in the mean time, Natalia will go through Natasha’s routines as best she can. She’ll show up to work, go to the gym, go out to eat, and just generally go through the rest of the week like nothing is wrong. Pretty much any of the options available could be used during this event. If you have any questions at all, just let me know and I’ll do my best to answer them.]]

WILDCARD!
You know the drill. Make up something else, and we'll rock the unexpected!

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Everything about Natasha's response indicates to Thor that she has a similar line of thought to him. That she might use his interest in her against him is not a thought that occurs to him.

Whoever might be watching is of little concern to him. He was never putting on a show for them, it was always for Natasha.

With a sly, wanting look Thor steps forward into her trap. He's moving to try steal a kiss, but he might not make it so far if she has her own intentions.

Everything about her body language, the look on her eyes, even the flush on her skin, says she wants him to kiss her. Right up until he's inches from her face, and then a whiplash quick movement and her forehead connects with the bridge of his nose. Hard. She doesn't expect it to take him down, but the way he's already leaning into her, she just needs him off balance enough for the combination of the kick to the side of his knee and the foot hooked around his ankle to bring him down.

She doesn't expect him to just stay down, though. Not Thor. So she's on top of him almost immediately, legs around his neck, using the dwindling advantage of her very tiny window of surprise.

Thor is a fool to let his guard down. He knew her finesse as a fighter from the start, but he didn't quite know the lengths she'd go to for a win. Of course, it doesn't help that he thinks himself irresistible.

She successfully takes him by surprise, with a headbutt. Thor winces, trying to draw back to gather his bearings. She hits him with a kick and it's just enough to knock him to the ground. He's already moving to rise again when she's getting on top of him. She's wise to move fast, but perhaps not so wise as to wrap her leg around his neck.

It's a vulnerable position- for him. But he finds, despite being offended by her assault, that he doesn't mind where he is. Thor's hands rise, and he could probably rip her off him with some effort, but he takes a moment to appreciate it before he begins to try throwing her off to switch positions.

He's a better fight than Carl. Not that it's a high bar, but still. This is what she came into the gym wanting today, a real struggle.

Thor doesn't hold back when he hits her. She has no doubt that if she gave him a real opening, she'd get herself genuinely hurt. It's rough and gritty as the two of them tumble around on the mats, taking any advantage they can. She is not shy about going for sensitive areas, and he doesn't hesitate to use his weight and height advantage to try to crush her through the floor.

Neither of them holds the advantage in the fight for very long. She gets a leg around his neck, he flips her onto her back and nearly dislocates her shoulder, she gets a good shot to his kidneys, forcing him back long enough to kick him squarely in the chest, and he's able to rally so fast that she almost doesn't have time to roll out of the way when he comes crashing back into their own personal fray.

She's sore and bruised and has actually broken a sweat by the time she manages to get both of her legs around his neck, calves crossed over his chest, thighs squeezing as hard as she can. She doesn't let him buck her off, even when he attempts to do so by slamming his back, and her by extension, into the ground. It hurts, and she grunts and hisses with the impact, but she just squeezes tighter.

It's a better fight than he's had in a long time. Asgard is full of skilled warriors, but they all learn from each other. You begin to know their strengths, their weaknesses and the kind of tricks they will pull.

Natasha is different in many, many ways. The way she carries herself and speaks is a given, since she's from a different world. The way she fights, however, always keeps Thor guessing. She's fast and though she's small, she knows where her strength is. She doesn't waste movement or opportunity and so Thor needs to be fairly ruthless, though he's trying not to break bones here.

Despite her previous play, he feels no less interested in her in a deeper, physical sense. He almost welcomes her legs around his neck and so close to his face. It's distracting, she's getting the better of him and his mind is moving elsewhere. He knocks the ground beside him hard, as a universal symbol that he surrenders.

If she relinquishes her hold, he'll pull back with a wry smile. Catching his breath but holding her gaze. He'll try to pull himself up, offering her a hand when he does.

He's done with the fight, but he's not done with her.

There's a collective murmur of regret from the crowd when Thor taps out, and Natalia would be lying if she said she weren't a little upset by it, as well. Best fight she's had in a long time. Everything she could ask for.

Still, she relaxes her hold on him, unwraps her legs from around his neck, and lets him stand. When he offers her his hand, she takes it, but it's under her own power that she stands, one foot tucked back slightly helping her to rise easily to her feet. "I'm almost sad," she says, still holding his hand, voice low enough to only carry between the two of them in this close bubble of personal space. "You looked good like that, with my legs around your neck."

She's teasing him, yes, but that's part of the fun. Her first real advantage came on the promise of a kiss, after all. It's getting back to basics, and it's been a while (she thinks, anyway) since any of these particular skills have been necessary in the pursuit of her goals.

It takes a lot for Thor to swallow his pride and willingly surrender a fight, but he doesn't expect Natasha to understand that she's worth that to him right now. Of course, right now he feels he could give up ale for a month just to be with her.

He won't, but he'd make the claim any time.

"We're not going anywhere any time soon, or so they say. There will be opportunity for more." And now he knows her tricks, though he wonders what kind of advantage that will give him in the future.

He welcomes her into his personal space, but he isn't about to make a move in the fighting ring again. "It's certainly not how I expected to end up between your legs." He says without hesitation, with a sly smile. "Now, tell me, is it customary here to shower alone after a fight?"

She chuckles. "I'm going to hold you to that. We can keep a running tally of wins. Set a certain limit, think of a nice prize for the victor." Subtle he is not. Then again, subtle he has never been, if she recalls correctly. About as subtle as a hammer. So no surprise there. Subtle can be highly overrated. There's something be said about just going after what you want, about taking something just because it's offered and you're interested, no hidden agenda. She doesn't get to embrace that much. "You know, there is a common saying on Earth about it being environmentally responsible to shower with a friend. To conserve water. There's also a popular one about having someone to scrub your back. I think they're both meant to be jokes, but... I am nothing if not environmentally conscious."

Which is funny mostly because it's strictly true. Nothing or environmentally conscious, and she is, indeed, nothing. A very carefully crafted and meticulously polished blank slate. The absence of self, ready for to be overwritten with anyone she needs to be in order to get the job done.

When she moves for the edge of the mat to scoop up her things, she walks away from him slowly, backwards at first, letting their arms stretch until distance forces her to give up her grip. When she does turn, it's slow and fluid, and even without the benefit of a carefully selected outfit to emphasize the way her body rolls and sways when she walks, she knows that this can never be a bad angle for her as long as she's wearing something figure hugging.

"Then Earth may be worth more than I ever thought." He says with a chuckle. It's said with enough humor that it doesn't seem like it's a genuine observation, but it absolutely is. If women on Earth are anything like Natasha, he really ought to visit.

Thor's eyes study her movements carefully, just as he did when he was preparing to fight her. It's a similar game, although he doesn't necessarily believe you can win romance, you can get a good play out of it.

He allows her to take the lead, and they make it to the locker room. Thor doesn't waste time stripping off the shirt he came in, because he knows he's at an advantage without it. He steps toward her, a sly smile on his face.

"Will you turn it against me once more if I try to kiss you?"

Nat is pretty sure that if anyone is basing Earth's worthiness on knowing her, then the planet is fucked. Of course, this isn't really her, so it doesn't really count or matter. It amuses her to no end that he's not even the slightest bit subtle about following her into the locker room. He just marches right on her heels, and damn what anyone might think.

She drops her water bottle and towel on the bench near her locker, smirks to herself, and the smile only grows when she turns to see Thor without his shirt on. The man is absolutely edible. She feels a very strong urge to sink her teeth in. "It's difficult to say. See, I'm mercurial. Which makes life a lot of fun, but doesn't really lend itself to stability. So the real question is..." She reaches out until her fingertips can just barely graze his chest, and then walks them up his sternum. "Do you think it would be worth the risk?"

The power of his shirtless visage knows no bounds. Or very few bounds, at least. He's pretty much drinking in the way she looks at him, and he's returning the favour in full.

"There's only one way to find out." He declares, finally. Thor reaches out so his hand is on the small of her back, he guides her closer. His other hand brushes her cheek and slides to thread into her hair, he obviously isn't concerned by any sweat or dampness.

Thor moves in to, hopefully, press his lips against hers.

Well, that's a pretty clear answer. She doesn't attack him this time, and the sweatiness doesn't bother her, either. There's a big difference between clean physical exertion and baking in the sun for hours. She doesn't feel grimy or unappealing, and he even still smells good. She can't really say whether or not the same is true for her, but he doesn't seem at all deterred. She'll take that as a good sign.

So, this time, she lets him kiss her. Her hand slides up his chest, over his shoulder, and around his neck. The other reaches to hold his forearm, to keep his arm around her waist. Just because she doesn't mean to hurt him doesn't mean she's gentle, though, and when she opens her mouth, it's not to play her tongue against his, but to bite his bottom lip.

Natasha doesn't hurt him with a bite, but it does elicit a soft grunt of approval from Thor. He presses himself closer, resting his forehead on hers and letting his hair drape over their faces.

He slips his hands from her hair and the small of her back so it can slide over the curve of her backside. He cups it in his hands and squeezes it roughly, thinking of how much he'd like to remove the fabric and get a better look. For now, slipping his hands down her pants to squeeze her again.

"Is it time to make you wet?" It's not a classy line, but Thor hardly cares. He's pushing at her waistband, with little regard for who could walk in on them. His mouth finds her neck and he presses a kiss to it, dragging his tongue over her skin before he murmurs against it. "I think you might taste better like this."

She's about to encourage him to get a little more handsy when he does it all on his own. So she just sighs happily into the kiss when his hands paw at her ass again. It's a little rough, but it's not clumsy, that's not the word she'd use. Over-eager, maybe, but that's not a bad thing.

His line is so far beyond not classy. Far enough that it goes right into the absurd and doesn't ruin the mood. Perhaps that's because it's delivered with confidence, she's not entirely sure. She just knows that her reaction is not to push him away, but to snort out a little laugh and tip her head back against the bank of lockers. She runs her hand into his hair, twists her fingers in it, gentle encouragement.

She doesn't have much regard for who might walk in on them, either, and doesn't stop the movement of his hands from nudging the waistband of her pants lower and lower. Most of the people who are in this gym are still crowded around the mats, and probably will be for the remaining hour or so that they're out today.

Thor certainly doesn't need prompting when it comes to touching Natasha. If anything, he's shown amazing restraint by not putting his hands all over her the moment they came to be alone.

The warmth of her skin is apparent, even against his hot, rough hands. He drags her pants lower until they're low enough that she can step out of them if she wishes. His hands slide back up, hitching her shirt upward but not off. He presses kisses down her collarbone, then down her chest and stomach. He starts to crouch as his lips press lower down her body.

He hitches her leg over his shoulder, dragging his teeth over the skin of her inner thigh. He glances upward at her and raises a brow, studying her face to gauge her interest.

When he pushes her singlet up, she raises her arms and finishes taking it off, peeling it over her head and dropping it on the bench with her other things. She leaves the sports bra on, though, a little too tight to whip off easily. Which might be a problem later.

She lets him move her, arrange her, and it's not passive. He just happens to be moving her to places she wants to go. If he ever tries something she's not interested in, he'll know very quickly. When he stops, looking for approval, it's almost cute. Luckily, he's solid and sexy enough to overpower the cute. "Well." She raises an eyebrow at him, voice full of challenge. "Go on. Tell me how I taste."

It is a foreseeable issue, but Thor is a strategist and he's sure he can figure it out. For now, as much as he'd like to see what's under her bra, he's preoccupied by something a little lower.

He doesn't feel the need to respond verbally to her permission, though he does hum with approval. His lips stay on her thighs for the moment, thumbs looping under the legs of her underwear so he can drag that down too. His tongue traces over her outer folds and he drags his teeth just slightly, just enough for something a little rough. His hands shift upward so he can spread her thighs just that inch more and he moves in with his tongue, circling it over her clitoris.

She hisses through her teeth at the scrape of his. Rough is good. Especially with Natalia. All she knows is rough.

Her hand in his hair is also rough, fingers twisted in the long strands, pulling hard enough to possibly hurt a little. She's still riding the adrenaline of the bout, though, and it's robbing her entirely of patience. Also tact. When the locker room door opens, thumping against the wall as Carl walks in, she'd probably throw something at him if her hands weren't full of Thor.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she snarls in the general direction of the door, not feeling at all bad at the horror and touch of fear on Carl's face. He probably thinks she's about to pull up her pants and strangle him. She's not certain he's wrong. She wants sex more than she wants violence, though. So she grits her teeth and looks down at Thor, lips pursed before she pushes him away to tug her clothes back on. "Get your stuff, come with me."

The pain Thor feels from the hand in his hair only accentuates the pleasure in the situation for him. He hears her before he notices Carl walk in, but he pulls away leisurely as if he doesn't particularly care if anyone sees.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and watches her, momentarily feeling secondhand fear for Carl before she seems to decide that they're leaving. Thor takes a moment to think about cold showers and the elderly before he stands up to follow.

He spares a glance for Carl and nods as he passes him, catching up with Natasha to shadow her. "Where will we go?"

Natasha's got her street clothes shoved in a duffle bag slung over her shoulder, and very little patience. She hasn't taken any time to think about cold shoulders, baseball, or Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day. She's still riding that post-fight adrenaline high, and if she loses it because of a delay caused by Carl, then Carl is going to be in a world of hurt.

"Somewhere close," she tells Thor as they spill out onto the street and she takes a quick look up and down the street. She's pretty sure-- yes. There. She nods her head at a tall narrow building on the corner, a sign over the door letting everyone on the street know that they have vacancies. Given the nature of the city, Natasha suspects that most of the rooms are permanent housing for people who don't like to cook and hate to clean. Still, they aren't all taken, and she's sure she and Thor won't be the first people who only want the bed and the privacy. "There."

"I should hope so." He says, he has the air of a man happy to shoulder the burden of searching for a new space entirely on her. She's attractive, she's a catch and he would be a fool to lose the opportunity to be with her, but he's accustomed to letting others do the work.

Thor raises a brow at the building, but he has no concept of what a hotel is. He assumes she resides here, so as they approach he leans in to press kisses and graze his teeth over her neck. He's blissfully unaware of the process of "checking in", he thinks this is their last stop.

So, he's going to rub his hands over her ass again.

Luckily for Thor, and not so much for the check in clerk, Natalia doesn't mind in the least, and does nothing to stop Thor's wandering hands and lips while she passes over a tap card. "One night." The benefit of having a gigantic Asgardian draped over you with his hands tugging at your clothes, people move quickly. No ridiculous questions, no double checking the information on the tap card. They aren't told what time the breakfast is set out, or that their room has a safe and a mini bar, or that there is a discount with the restaurant next door, which has a more full menu. The card is taken from her, it's swiped for one night, passed back with a key, and the clerk tells her the room number and immediately tries to focus on literally anything else in the lobby.

Natalia half leads, half drags him to the elevator, and as soon as she punches the button for their floor, she's yanking him forward and down with a hand on the back of his neck so she can kiss him.

Even when Thor is aware that they have hoops to jump through before they can be alone again, it doesn't stop him. Once he realises that his affection is giving influence to the clerk's speed, he makes sure to proceed. His lips move up her neck and he mutters against her ear in a volume only she can hear.

"He looks frightened."

It's endearing, but it doesn't hold his attention for a second after the key touches Natasha's hand. Thor allows himself to be lead, and when they're in the elevator he waists no time lifting her up so she can reach his lips with ease. He braces her against the wall of the elevator, although it takes no effort to hold her up, it just gives him better access to her mouth.

When Thor mentions the man looking frightened, she chuckles. "He does. I like it."

Maybe it’s a touch of genuine fear, and she shouldn't find that funny. In other circumstances, she might be afraid of Thor, too. If she were a more ordinary person and thought she was standing between him and something he wanted. Seeing as she is the thing he wants, she just feels excited. Fear is thrilling, in its own way, and Nat’s upbringing and training made it necessary to find a unique way to survive and thrive. The pain, the terror, things she wasn’t supposed to feel, things that weren’t supposed to matter. She’d never been able to do it, though, never been able to switch off her humanity. So she found another way. Since she couldn’t not feel it, she made herself like it, she made it spur her forward.

She’s not afraid of Thor, though. When he hoists her up against the wall, she grins and wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, her gym bag thumping against his back. She hears the door ding when it opens, and small blessing, they’re alone. "Down the hall," she gasps out, with a look back over her shoulder. "Six oh eight. There."

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August catch-all

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