Disclaimer: Do not own Marvel or The 100
Warnings for murder and rather dubious consent
Of primal need
When it happened, they knew that they needed to fear for most of the people present, less they wished for all of them to be torn to shreds.
But Natasha being on the ground, in the area, with them? That was the deciding factor for if they were to survive or not.
Wanda and Maria were not present, so, that reduced Tony, Steve, Thor, Vision, Sam, Bruce and Rhodey's survival chances.
But Natasha being here? That decided instantly that they would survive.
The creature standing on top of the roof of the building, surrounded by various pools of blood and various torn off body parts like arms, legs, heads and different torsos, heaved out a heavy breath as she growled.
Her pale blonde hair had the occasional streak of blood in it, accompanying the pink streaks. Her eyes that were usually blue, were now completely black.
Her hands were at her sides, claws out, fangs out, sticking out from under her lips.
There was no blood on her face or hands, though.
She growled, and her ears were pointed.
Clint Barton was Clarke's familial soulmate. And while that didn't necessarily mean he was safe, it meant that Clarke wouldn't kill him.
The same could not be promised of Steve, Tony, Rhodey, Bruce, Thor, Sam and Vision.
They stood where they were, remaining. They did not so much as budge.
Even Bruce, who was the Hulk, didn't move.
Even the Hulk feared Clarke.
Any of them outside of Clint or Natasha moved and they were certain that they were dead.
Then the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff moved forward, reaching her right hand up in offering to Clarke.
"Clarke," Natasha said softly, her green eyes never leaving Clarke's figure, "Come down please. I want to hold you, moya lyubov'."
The feral creature opened her mouth, then shut it, her fangs clicking together.
At this moment? Clarke was unlike those other times when she had become feral.
At this moment, she was incapable of human speech.
At this moment, her mind was swept up in primitive animal instincts.
She leered down at Natasha, staring into those emerald eyes a lusting growl leaving her throat.
Natasha kept her hand held up. "Clarke," Natasha implored again as she had in the Ice Nation when Clarke was I that tree and Natasha had first convinced Clarke to come with her and the Avengers, "Please come down."
"Uh, Romanoff?" Tony said nervously from behind his mask, "Not sure that's a good idea."
"Just let me be the only voice she hears right now," Natasha said, noticing how Clarke glanced her black and murderous eyes in Tony's direction.
Natasha hushed out, "Shh, shh, it's okay, love. Just come down, I can take you somewhere. Where it's just the two of us, alright? Come down, please."
After a few head tilts from Clarke, she gave a small grunt, and jumped down from the roof of the building, landing down on the ground, hard, right in front of Natasha. The harsh movement did not faze the redhead. She smiled at Clarke and held her hand up again for Clarke to take.
"Come on, devushka," she said, nodding to the woods, away from the bodies and away from the rest of the Avengers, "Why don't we have some privacy?"
Clarke grunted again, taking Natasha's hand and allowing the Black Widow to lead her away, to the woods, away from the others.
Vaguely, Natasha heard Tony grumble, "Okay, what just happened?" And Sam mumble, "Uh, guys, do you think this is a good idea?"
She smiled though, when she heard Clint say, "Just trust Nat, okay? Let her handle this. We know Clarke would never hurt her."
Natasha led Clarke through the woods and to a nearby small waterfall, kneeling down and slowly and gently leading Clarke down so that Clarke was kneeling on the ground, as well.
Natasha looked into Clarke's currently black eyes.
Right at this moment? She knew that her Clarke could not make any logical decisions. At this moment in time, she was more beast than being able to think like a person.
Natasha also knew that her being alone with Clarke when she was like this? Most likely would end only one way.
And Natasha was perfectly alright with that.
Clarke would never hurt her, as Clint had told the others.
Natasha didn't blame Clarke. Clarke had gotten like this only because of rage, because those thugs she had torn to shreds had threatened Natasha.
And that wasn't the only reason. Natasha knew what day it was.
Today was sort of "that time of the month." Not to be mistaken for when Clarke had her period.
Clarke got her period, alright. But on days like this, Clarke was just more animal like than like a person.
When Clarke got her period, she maintained her common sense and humanoid mind.
But when she was like this?
Clarke was essentially a wild animal.
Natasha also knew that there was really only one way to keep Clarke from running around and again and killing more people.
Natasha in no way was against it. She wanted to do this.
She just hoped Clarke could forgive herself afterwards.
Natasha pulled her gloves off of her hands, placing them onto the ground next to her. She then reached up and undid her jacket, pulling it off, and opening up her shirt. When her breasts were exposed, almost entirely, save for her black bra, she could feel Clarke's eyes on her the whole time.
It was dark out, but Clarke could see perfectly in the dark.
As a result? Clarke would be able to make Natasha's body out perfectly.
Natasha got this confirmed as she heard Clarke growl quietly, clearly enjoying the sight before her.
Natasha smiled at the sounds Clarke was making and reached down, undoing her pants.
He felt Clarke's eyes traveling down along her thighs and legs.
Natasha smirked, even if she knew that in a few moments, the only thing she'd be doing would be writhing on the ground, under the mouth of this primal being.
Natasha knew that no matter how animalistic Clarke was at this moment? She would never hurt Natasha.
She was incapable of it.
Natasha knew that she was safe with Clarke. She always would be.
Clarke would never hurt her. And after this was over, Natasha knew she would need to comfort Clarke and assure her that this wasn't her fault.
But right now? Clarke needed to have her way with Natasha. If she did? She would be under control. At peace.
Natasha stripped down, almost completely naked, save for her undergarments.
She heard an even deeper growl in front of her, in the dark, and she shivered, feeling heat travel to between her legs.
She knew exactly what was about to happen, and she was primed and ready for it.
Clarke lunged forward, her right arm sliding around Natasha's waist, her left raising up to tear Natasha's bra off.
Natasha moaned when she felt Clarke's tongue dart out and lick at the redhead's right nipple.
After Clarke had torn Natasha's bra off and while Clarke was licking at Natasha's nipple, Clarke traveled her free hand down to Natasha's panties and pressed her palm against Natasha's cunt, palm gently stroking against Natasha's clothed clit.
Natasha cried out, hips bucking against Clarke's hand as Clarke purred at the sounds her mate was making.
Natasha loved when Clarke got like this. She was almost always dominant over Clarke, but she loved that she could get this hunger from Clarke, knowing that Clarke essentially was addicted to her, no matter what dynamic their sex took.
She loved how hungry Clarke always was for her, how much Clarke lost control around her at every turn.
Whether it was when Clarke was submissive and essentially whimpering "mommy" every second, begging for Natasha to fuck her with the redhead's fingers, tongue, fist or strap or some other toy, or when Clarke would lose complete control and turn into a creature that needed to fuck Natasha till she couldn't move, Natasha loved Clarke's hunger for her, loved how Clarke just became a hungry being born of primal need.
Clarke moaned into Natasha's breast as Natasha's thrusts against the younger woman's hand increased, and Natasha came at Clarke's moans, clenching, without Clarke's much as taking her underwear off.
She would have smirked if she could, when she felt Clarke begin to take her underwear off and felt Clarke's claws next to her waist, slide back, turning her claws into mere, harmless fingers again, perfect for fingering.
Natasha knew that the night was far from through for her.
She loved how Clarke got when she was like this.
Author's note
I put the warning of sexual assault in the notes at the beginning of the story, because Clarke is more animal mentally than anything else, and both incapable of consenting or asking for Natasha's consent. So that makes it a rather gray area for them both.