One Way Or Another

by longdaysjourney

This was originally posted under the title "We Were Made to F*ck Each Other" but that was taken down because of the censoring rules on here. So I'm reposting under this title. 423 words, Loki X Black Widow au in which she teams up with him as part of a mission from S.H.I.E.L.D.

When he came to her she laughed.

He was intrigued.

Not many people laugh when the God of Mischief proposes a partnership.

"I'm Russian," she shrugs, with a smile that's three parts winsome and one part arsenic.

When he comes back the third time she accepts. She doesn't give him a reason, and he doesn't ask for one. Part of her knows that he knows he's being played by S.H.I.E.L.D, and that makes her wary. A man that makes decisions he shouldn't is a man she can't predict - and predicting what men will do is how she has survived for this long.

Neither one of them could tell you when they started fucking.

"Just one night," she growls against his neck - biting, fighting, forcing him to show her if gods bleed like men.

And they do.

"Once more," he groans into her stomach, his tongue laving it's way down down down as she bites her lips and holds back the moans that aren't his, can't be for him, won't be for him.

And then she doesn't know.

She couldn't tell you if she hated Loki, loved Loki, or just wanted to fuck Loki, and that was the problem because she HAD to know, couldn't afford not to know.

And that is why she sends word and then, when he comes to her room at night just like he had every other night, she lets him take her. She waits until his head falls back and he's exposed. She waits until he's vulnerable with his orgasm and she slides a knife into his heart and waits for her 'back up' with the blood of the man she three parts hates and one part loves sliding down her breasts and thighs and she doesn't cry won't cry can't cry even as his eyes seem to stare.

She does her job, and she submits to a briefing, but she doesn't tell them everything.

She endures Thor's pain.

She endures Tony's mocking.

Endures Steve's pity.

Waits for Clint to come back to her.

And waits for the night that the eyes of the God of Mischief will stop appearing in her dreams.

Those eyes that didn't hate, or love.

Those eyes that almost thanked her for his death as he smiled that snake's grin of his (she never knew if he wanted to eat her or fuck her when he smiled like that) and gurgles out over the blood that choked him, "We were made to fuck each other. One way or another."

She waits.