Ensorcellment (Loki X Reader)

Freedom

Freedom. Such a beautiful word. In theory, you think as you tromp out of the third shitty motel to kick you out this month.

The shift back to "normalcy" the past few weeks after your escape is jarring for you. This wasn't your first time being kidnapped and probably won't be your last, but the impact it's having on you... the impact Loki is having on you... is unprecedented. You feel like you just broke up with someone, which is infuriating because you weren't dating. Far from it- he literally kidnapped you. Kidnapped. But frustratingly, that doesn't stop your heart from aching at night as you lie completely alone and slightly too cold.

Unfortunately, the world doesn't give two shits about your emotional state, and you have to refocus yourself on work, which has been harder to come by since you've been gone. A key component of maintaining your image as a mercenary is staying relevant, making sure the people who need to know are aware when you complete a job, make a kill, and survive. You've been off the radar for months now, and when that happens you're immediately assumed dead. Finally failed a mission. Compromised. Finding old contacts and convincing people you're alive, and just as capable as before, is difficult- it's a challenge you're frustrated you have to undertake, but you're determined to do so either way.

The first step in doing so is taking on some lower-grade jobs than you're used to. Shakedowns, quick kills, and even a few robberies. It's a little insulting, frankly, and you hope you reestablish yourself quickly before your previous employers hear about these jobs you're taking. You have a reputation to rebuild, after all.

So now you find yourself seventeen stories in the air, outside a window, the only thing preventing you from plummeting to the ground being a thin rope latched to the roof.

You carefully run your fingers along the seams of the window, feeling for the latch in the dark- and you find it, sliding the pane up and open. You scan the floor inside the room before silently climbing inside.

You've been tasked with finding a particular folder of information- an assignment so cliche, you could vomit. If business owners would just keep their sensitive information on encrypted computers, this would never be an issue, but then again, you wouldn't have a job right now. So you silently thank Mr. Billionare, as you've dubbed the penthouse's owner, for being so incompetent.

You creep toward the large, sleek bookshelf in the room, but a light suddenly snaps on. You whip around toward the intruding beam, drawing your pistol in an instant.

"Who the fuck are you?"

You recognize his voice immediately. You yank the mask covering everything below the bridge of your nose down off your face with one hand, still holding up your gun with the other.

"Ahmad." You relax your stance as the man approaches you, a surprised smile on his face despite the gun still in his hand as well.

He says your name in shock, which is understandable. "Where have you been? I thought you finally got killed."

"Sorry to disappoint you." You smirk, waving your hand to remind him he's still shining his flashlight in your face. He shuts it off, apologizing sheepishly. "I've been... preoccupied. But I'm back now."

He shakes his head, looking you up and down. "You're in one piece? You went private, didn't you? I know plenty of families were practically begging you to let them hire you long-term."

"Sure, something like that. How have things been out here?"

He laughs. "Good, for me. With you off the market, I could pick up a lot of jobs you likely would have had. Speaking of which," his hand tightens around the handle of his gun just a touch, but you notice the movement. "Why are you breaking into the same office as me?"