Disclaimer: Do not own Marvel, DC or The 100

The one with all the power

No one in the different groups of superheroes were fools when it came to Clarke Griffin and Natasha Romanoff's relationship. They knew that between the two of them, despite how powerful Clarke was, even with how dangerous she was, or the fact that she could tear vibranium and adamantium into pieces, was literally the strongest being in all of the universe as far as they knew, between the two of them, Natasha Romanoff was the one that had all the power in the relationship.

That had always been the case. Ever since Clarke and Natasha had first met on that day, two years ago, in the Ice Nation, when Clarke had been twenty and hiding in the branches of that tree.

Natasha had looked up into the tree, looked at Clarke's eyes as Clarke lingered in the branches like a big cat, hissing.

And as soon as Clarke had met the older woman's eyes, she had found herself unable to do anything else except do as Natasha asked, and that was to come down from the tree and take Natasha's hand and let Natasha take her home.

Since then, the following year, Clarke had been ornery, sure, but she could never deny Natasha's will, never deny her sovereignty.

No one else could dare to take Natasha's place in Clarke's eyes as a holy being-as a goddess.

No one else.

To say that she was in love with Natasha, was putting it too plainly and too simply. Because while that was true, it was much more than that.

It was profound really, what she felt for Natasha.

To the point that it was worshipful.

So, in the later years, as Clarke's twenty-second birthday began to approach, and there was a meeting at SHIELD base, close to the hall where the Avengers' main rooms were, it surprised no one, absolutely no one, that when Clarke got angry at Superman and Jon Stewart when they were trying to get her not to kill a couple of murderers, and trying to get her to let them be brought off to trial and Clarke snarled at them, it was in no way a surprise to anyone, when Natasha came into the room and Clarke paused when she smelled the scent of Natasha in the room.

And it in no way surprised anyone that as soon as Natasha saw Clarke, she understood immediately that Clarke was on the verge of snapping and ready to take Superman's head off for protecting-a pair of "low-lives," and went to the younger woman, reached out and her hands grabbed Clarke's arms, just below her shoulders, above her elbows and held Clarke back against her chest.

Clarke could have torn out of Natasha's grasp at any moment. She didn't, though. She could have, but she didn't. Just the scent of Natasha was overwhelming and kept her from glaring at Superman and Jon Stewart. She tried to come up with a strong response to snarl at them with.

But she couldn't.

Not with Natasha right up against her, kissing the back of her neck gently, holding her arms possessively. "Clarke, shh," Natasha said, "Hush, malyshka."

Clarke sagged against Natasha, feeling like she couldn't escape her grasp, even though physically speaking she was far stronger than Natasha.

But with Natasha? She was powerless. She had no power.

With Natasha, she was completely at the older woman's mercy.

She sank against Natasha and Natasha pulled her by her arms out of the room, to the hall where her room was.

Natasha kept purring against Clarke, "Hush, malen'kiy,everything's going to be alright. I've got you. Mommy's got you. Just be good, and I'll give you something worth your behaving. Shh, love."

Clarke gave a small whimper as she allowed herself to be pulled into Natasha's quarters.

They got through the doors to Natasha's room and the doors closed behind them.

The lights came on automatically and Natasha ordered the lights to dim. The voice activated lights lowered, till the room was dim, to what could be called a romantic lighting.

"I'm sorry," Clarke said, lowering her head, "I didn't want to worry you."

"You're not worrying me," Natasha said softly, "I want to make sure you don't do any damage to the relationships you have, that's all. Now, I'm going to carry you to the bed, will you let me do that?"

Clarke nodded as she let Natasha pull her to the bed.

"Thank you," Clarke said quietly, as she felt the foot of the bed against her leg, "Please, mommy, tell me what I need to do to be your good girl."

Natasha pressed her mouth against Clarke's neck for what had to have been the tenth time by now today and crooned, "You're already being such a good girl, love. I just want you to undress and lie down on your stomach on the bed, alright, devushka?"

Clarke nodded and said nothing as Natasha released her arms.

Natasha stepped back from Clarke, allowing the younger woman to undress.

When Clarke was fully undressed, Natasha began undressing and Clarke began to turn to look at her.

Natasha snapped, "Did I say you could look at me, devushka?"

Clarke whimpered and shook her head, looking away. "Sorry, mommy," she said.

Clarke was strong. So strong and dangerous. She could crush marble, steel, vibranium and adamantium into dust easily.

But she had absolutely no power with Natasha.

None.

Natasha stared at her little girl, smiling. She was in awe of this beautiful, tender girl who loved her so much. Was so powerful and so loving. So dangerous and so protective.

When Natasha was fully nude, she went to the dresser and let loose a command, "Clarke, I want you now to lie down on the bed, on your stomach, understand, malen'kiy?"

"Yes, mommy," Clarke said and she went to the bed and laid down on her stomach, breath caught in her throat when she heard the dresser drawer open up. She had a good idea of what she was in for.

When she heard a buckle clicking into place, she felt heat strike down to between her legs, realizing that she was right.

Then she heard Natasha come closer and she ordered, "Now, devushka,lift yourself up on your knees, just a little, keep your head down."

"Yes, mommy," Clarke said and did as Natasha instructed her. She lifted herself up just a little on her knees on the bed, feeling herself getting wetter by the second.

She almost came when she heard Natasha say, "Good girl," as she placed her hands on Clarke's hips and pulled her closer. Clarke of course, was powerless to do anything except obey Natasha's hands and orders.

And when Natasha thrust deep into Clarke, the length of thick, rubber that was Natasha's strap-on burying into Clarke's cunt, Clarke lost all control-not that she had any to begin with as soon as she saw Natasha-and she screamed into the bed as she was fucked hard by her goddess.