Player Of Hearts [ N. Romanoff × Female Reader ]

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷: The Opposite Version Of Sir John Sandford

Now, where do we exactly start? Hmmm... How about, 1100 BCE, too far I think?

Okay, let's just get into it. But first, welcome back my dear reader, it is nice to see you here.

Persuasion is the best weapon an individual can own, and every single person living and dead has its own ways to persuade, but in your condition, persuasion is everything, you use it to get what you want from anyone with just one word they'd give you anything. It was a weapon you harnessed since birth, and since then you took advantage of it.

"Tell me exactly though..." You trailed off, staring at the man who's making everyone kneel except for you. "I do think that you care about your brother... I mean our brother, not to mention our mother--"

"Stop doing that," he spits out the words, jaw clenching as he eyed you venemously.

"I'm not doing anything," you mused with a little bit of chuckle.

He rolled his eyes. "You are and it's no fun. Stop persuading me!" He exclaimed the second part which made you sigh in annoyance.

"I'm not even trying but fine you're boring anyway," you huffed and he scoffed.

"You'd rot in here if it wasn't for me," he shot back and you promptly sat on the floor, looking back to writing on a piece of paper.

"How did we even end up in a place locked up in a cell," you complained for the who-knows-how-long since you've been inside this shithole for ten decades for doing something that isn't even considered a crime but for Odin it is.

Loki didn't respond as he suddenly flicked your cheek for no reasons making you slap him in the arm but he was a trickster and so you didn't even manage to touch his, -in his words, fine-Agardian-leather-, and then he smirked when he saw the look of irritation on your face.

"Miss Sandford is writing another poem," he teased, slowly in your ears and this time he was really next to you. You side glanced him.

Everyone knew who Sir John Sandford, he was a neo-latin poet, and people viewed him like a god, atleast from where you're from, but here's what makes it different, Loki was the only person who viewed you the feminine version of said Sandford, and he always teased you as Miss Sandford, for whatever you may be doing, even if you were just writing a simple letter or scribbling on a paper, he always mistook you to be writing a love poem. But he wasn't wrong, you do have the fondness of writing. And then it came to a point where his teasing became more serious than intented, and people started to address you as 'Y/N Sandford the successor of Sir John Sandford' , it is stupid but you've grown to love it. Miss Y/N Sandford.

"Loki," you whispered back, softly smiling at him with a knowing look, and as he stared back, his face drained from blood.

"No," he mumbled warningly but it was too late for him to stop you.

By the time you both locked eyes, "You're cute," you sweetly added and he collapsed to the floor with oogly big wide eyes. "And sweet," you fixated your look on him. "Everyone would be so lucky to have you."

"How do...you do that?" He asked, stopping in mid-sentence as he swallowed thickly.

"Easy..." You snapped your fingers to pull him back to reality making him shot up as if he had woken up from a nightmare. You smiled apologetically but proud, "I won."

He groaned and stood up, walking away from you to sit on the other side of the cell while you were still smiling at him like an idiot, but you both know that you won't stop doing that until he admits that you won, it isn't even a contest but that's just it to make yourself survive out of boredome,-aside from writing tons of poems-, and hopefully see the beautiful largest star in the entire universe, the sun.

"Is the ground shaking?" You asked absently.

"No, it's your body!" He sarcastically replied and you shot him a shit eating mocking look.

A moment later, out of nowhere, Loki was outside of the cell, standing infront of you with that sinister grin on his face.

"Did you really think that I've been there with you all this time?" He mused and you glared at him.

"Just get me out you idiot."

"Alright, alright. But I won," He smirked, making you roll your eyes as he opened the unrevealing door or whatever you call it. "After you, m'lady." He gestured slightly bowing his head and you immediately smacked the back of his neck, causing him to close his eyes for a brief moment of time, quickly processing the violence that you casued before opening them again and looked back up at you with a unfriendly smirk.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"Midgard."

"And what are you supposed to be doing there?" He asked again.

"I'm going to spread some love," you answered, confidemtly smiling before continuing to walk your way out.

He followed you. "If that's the case, I'm coming."

"No," you firmly rejected.

He scrunched his eyebrows. "Why not?"

"Because..." You trailed off again with the soft smile and he knew exactly where this is going.

He sighed defeatedly. "Fine, fine, I'm not coming," he blurts out and you smiled proudly at him.

"That's my boy, now go meet Hela," you shooed him away.

"That I will never do," he shook his head, cowering up like a cow.

The whole of Asgard was unaware of your escape with Loki until one day, Frigga decided to visit both of you only to find out an empty cell room, but she was three months late. The reason why is still confidential.

"What are you talking about?" You asked the one eyed man.

"You're off my service," he casually replied.

"But why?" You demanded.

"Because I no longer need you," he explained.

"Oh, okay," you shrugged it off which seems to get his attention since people would go after him for days just to get his approval to take them back in his service, but you weren't like that, you make things far too easy for you to run after him just to take you back, never.

"Wait, that's it?" He asked, now looking at you.

"Well, yeah, you don't need me so you're sending me away and now I lose my job and I'll be living in the streets."

He sighed. "Are you guilt tripping me?"

"Nope," you shook your head without dropping the eye contact, but before you could even do further than that...

"I might have an idea, only if you're uo for it," he negotiated and you seemed to be egear to know what he has in mind. "What do you think of superheroes?"

As if one wave on the ocean, the eagerness dried out. "I'm anti-hero," you deadpanned, "so no, I don't think about them at all."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Do you not consider me as a hero?" He asked.

"No."

"I'm the Director of SHIELD," he points out, placing both of his hands on his waist.

"Yes, but that doesn't make you one," you retorted, as your eyes followed the brunette woman who was just passing by. "But Agent Hill here, is considered as a hero." You fixate your eyes on her as she stopped on her tracks and turned to the both of you.

"Why am I being mentioned in your conversation?" She asked interogatingly with an amused look mainly at you.

"Hill," Fury acknowledged. "I want you to take
Y/N to the Avengers compound later this day."

Agent Hill locked eyes with you. "May I ask why, sir?" She questioned.

"She's anti-hero, I believe we can change that for her," He finally speaks out his mind.

Tearing your eyes from the woman, "I doubt."

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