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The hourglass
Clarke Griffin, the escapee from both her own people, the Ark people, and the Mountain Men-also the destroyer of the Mountain Men-Wanheda, and the Death Angel of the Azgeda, and destroyer of so many other people, always had a certain fascination in the symbol that belonged to Natasha-the "Black Widow" symbol.
The Green Lanterns had symbols like that too. Only green. (Depending on what type of lanterns they were. The Red Lanterns had those symbols too. But that was another story.)
Personally, she didn't give a damn about any of the Lanterns.
Green Lanterns, Red Lanterns, or otherwise, she didn't give a damn.
Hell, Clarke didn't give a damn about green kryptonite, red kryptonite, or otherwise, so long as she could occasionally mock Superman and his cousin about it.
What was it with superheroes and colors, anyway?
However, all that aside? Clarke loved that red hourglass that Natasha had as her symbol.
And she loved it, obviously, because it was Natasha's symbol.
It would have been meaningless to Clarke, if anyone else wore wearing the symbol of the Black Widow.
Clarke always found the symbol intriguing for one reason or another.
And yes, Natasha had caught Clarke looking at it, as Natasha always caught Clarke staring at her.
Clarke had quickly looked away, as she always had, whenever she had been caught staring, though she knew that Natasha never minded. If anything, Natasha always seemed to smirk whenever she caught Clarke looking at her for too long.
It hadn't mattered whether it was Natasha entirely clothed, wearing revealing clothing, or in the privacy of their bedroom, where Natasha was nearly naked or entirely naked, Clarke could never keep her eyes off of her romantic partner soulmate, and Natasha knew it. And was always happy to take advantage of Clarke's inability to not stare.
And yes, Clarke was looking for a little too long at the symbol at the middle of Natasha's belt, the hourglass symbol and Natasha had followed her gaze, and had given Clarke a one of her many knowing smirks.
Clarke had quickly looked away, self-conscious then.
A few days after that, Natasha confronted Clarke about it. She sat down next to Clarke, as they watched Steve, Clint and Sam train on the mats in the next room over. The room where the three men were sparring was in a separate room, with several clear windows separating Clint, Steve and Sam from Clarke and Natasha.
Clarke turned to Natasha. "Hey, Nat." She said, smiling at her lover.
The older woman smiled playfully. "Hello, malyshka."She said, scooting closer to the blonde and allowing Clarke to lean her head onto the former KGB woman's left shoulder.
"Can I ask you something, Clarke?" Natasha asked the younger woman.
Clarke tilted her head to look at Natasha and nodded a little.
Natasha asked, eyes watching with a strange light in them, "You like my 'Black Widow' symbol, don't you?"
Clarke smiled. "Yeah," She answered, "Of course. I think it's really…," Again, Clarke found herself somewhat frustrated in that like with everything when it came to Natasha, Clarke was at a loss for words to convey just how beautiful she found everything about the older woman. And Clarke decided she'd have to basically just come up with a word that didn't even come close to saying what she wanted to say, but said it anyway, "It's really beautiful." She grumbled, blushing slightly at Natasha's chuckle. She then added, "And it's not like I'd like it if it belonged to anyone else. It's yours. So automatically that makes it special."
Natasha nodded, seeming satisfied by this answer.
She then said something that left Clarke with questions. She asked, "How would you like to wear it?"
Clarke frowned, confused. Her eyebrows narrowed. "Wear it?" She echoed, "But it's yoursymbol."
Natasha nodded. "It is," She agreed, "But that's the point. You are aware of what our kind of relationship entails, don't you?"
Clarke thought about that. This conversation was odd. Their relationship? Her and Natasha had been in a relationship now for almost two years. They had begun sleeping together when it had only been a few months after Clarke had first turned twenty-one. Clarke was almost twenty-two and a half. And it wasn't like any sex Clarke had ever experienced, admittedly.
All of the sex she'd had in the past, was always casual, no strings attached. And what was more, it was always more or less "vanilla," outside of when she bit her bed partners and drank some of their blood, to make it clear to them, just how little she valued them.
Clarke and Natasha's relationship? That was an entirely different story.
To say that it was a kinky type of relationship, was a great understatement.
Clarke never would have thought that she'd be so overjoyed to be submissive to another sexually, but then Natasha had appeared in her life. And Clarke had been unable to resist all of Natasha's natural dominance and control.
However, despite that, Clarke had yet to figure out what direction this conversation was going in.
"Um," Clarke answered quietly, since there were others in the room and she didn't want them to hear, "A dom/sub relationship?"
Natasha answered, still smiling, "That's right. And the Black Widow mark, would be a symbol of us being together."
Clarke thought about that. "Like a necklace or something? Or a bracelet?" She asked.
Natasha's smile widened and she said, "Not quite, love. It would be around your neck, yes. But it would be more securely around your neck than a necklace. And it's something occasionally used in relationships like ours. In dom/sub relationships."
Clarke's eyes widened, suddenly realizing what Natasha was referring to. Oh.
A collar.
Natasha was talking about a collar.
A collar that would have Natasha's symbol on it or hanging from it.
"A collar?" Clarke asked, giving a small laugh, "That's…wow, Nat."
Natasha's eyebrows lifted. "Not interested, moy sladkiy?"She asked, "You can always say, 'no.' I will understand."
Clarke frowned again. "You sound like you've been thinking about asking me this for a while." She said.
Natasha chuckled quietly, "Yes. I have been, love. No pressure, you understand? If you don't want to, then I won't push it."
Clarke suddenly now felt even more self-conscious. "That," She said hesitantly, "That's…what would be the importance of the collar?"
She was suddenly very glad that they were in several rooms over from Steve, Sam and Clint, and that the three men didn't have any chance of hearing this conversation.
Natasha smiled as Clarke lifted her head, questions in the younger woman's eyes.
"It's a way for the submissive to know that their dominant will keep their submissive safe." Natasha said, "It's a symbol of protection."
"And ownership." Clarke said dryly.
Natasha sighed, nodding. Yes. That was, indeed, part of the reason for a collar.
"So," Clarke said, nodding, "I'm a pet, then?" Natasha tensed when she saw Clarke's frown and tight jaw.
She recognized that, even without hearing what Clarke had just said. Clarke was getting defensive.
"You are not a pet," Natasha said, "You know that's not what this is."
"I know?" Clarke asked, snorting slightly, "I don't know any such thing. Look, I'm already alright with being submissive. It's different from anything I'm used to. And I'll admit that it's something I love. But if the collar is to signify that I'm your pet or something…"
Natasha wanted to lean forward even more and take Clarke's face in her hands, but restrained herself. She needed Clarke to decide what she was going to do on her own, without trying to manipulate Clarke's decision, even if it was through gentle touches.
Clarke needed to come to the decision on her own.
"It isn't like that," Natasha assured her, "It isn't. The collar would mean protection, yes. And yes, it would mean a kind of ownership. It would also mean that I belong to you."
"But you wouldn't be wearing any collar, would you?" Clarke asked, looking at Natasha with meaning.
Natasha shook her head, "No," She admitted, "That wouldn't be how it would be. But I would belong to you, nonetheless."
Clarke sat back a little and Natasha watched her. She could tell that Clarke wanted to take up her offer, she knew. But she knew better than to push. She needed to give Clarke time to think about it.
However, she hadn't needed to give Clarke that much time, as it turned out.
Clarke thought about what Natasha offered and she shivered at the suggestion.
The collar would mean that she was Natasha's. Entirely Natasha's. And Natasha would be hers. And everyone would know it. Excitement ran through her strongly, already telling her the answer she would be making.
Along with, of course, the warmth that she felt at the thought of Natasha's protection being so obvious.
Clarke was not human. She was stronger than all eight Thor, Wonder Woman, Wondergirl, Superman, Supergirl, the Hulk, Powergirl and Shayera-Hawkgirl.
She was stronger than anything, and she knew that. So, therefore, she knew that she could overpower Natasha, if she needed to.
But that was all the point of their relationship. The point of it was that Clarke trusted Natasha to take care of her.
And yes, Clarke had multiple other romantic partner soulmates.
One of the agents of SHIELD who worked with Natasha, Maria Hill, and Wonder Woman-Diana, Shayera, Dina Lance-Black Canary, Helena Bertinelli-Huntress, Mari McCabe-Vixen, and several others, but Clarke knew it would be a while till they had even close to the relationship with Clarke that Natasha did, and Clarke was positive that they knew that.
Clarke felt the words coming out, "Yes," She said, "I want to."
Natasha's eyes widened.
"Are you sure, Clarke?" She asked, unable to help the hope in her voice. She wanted Clarke to know that if she said 'no,' then she could.
Clarke nodded. "I'm sure," She assured Natasha, "Is there anything I need to do now?"
Natasha smiled, feeling warmth fill her chest, "No, love. You don't," She answered, "What color do you want the collar to be? What material would you like?"
Clarke was positive that Natasha knew both answers, but was asking anyway, because she didn't want to make decisions for Clarke.
Clarke smiled. She felt like she could kick herself for her foolish pressings about how Natasha suggesting she have a collar on would make her a pet. Clarke felt like such an asshole for saying that. She knew Natasha would never do that.
"The material, silk. The color, purple, black and red." Clarke answered.
Natasha smirked, obviously predicting this easily.
"Thank you, Clarke," Natasha said, earning a confused look from the blonde, and Natasha answered that confused look with her next words, "For trusting me with this."
Clarke chuckled, scooting closer and kissing Natasha deeply, moaning as Natasha almost instantly dominated the kiss and the Black Widow plundered the younger woman's mouth with her tongue, the redhead cradling the blonde's face in her hands as she did so.
A week later, Natasha had gotten Clarke that collar for her submissive lover. And at Natasha's soft but steel command, Clarke had sat down and allowed Natasha to secure the collar to her young lover's neck. The collar, as Clarke had requested, had been the softest of silk, and striped black, dark red and dark purple. Dangling from the front of the collar, was a dark red hourglass symbol, framed by glossy silver metal.
Clarke almost half-consciously touched the hourglass symbol hanging from the front of the collar. She slowly turned back to Natasha as the redhead placed Clarke's white-blonde mane back against the back of the collar and the back of Clarke's neck.
Clarke faced Natasha, smiling, "Thank you."
Natasha nodded, leaning down and kissing Clarke's lips, this time, more gently than deeply, this time, however, Clarke was the one that reacted with great hunger. She surged forward and kissed Natasha deeply and Natasha held her tightly, protecting her, as always.