Taking Care Of The Avengers (Loki x Reader) (under edit)

48. The Not-So-Good Old Days

So after much thought and consideration (not really, I'm an impulsive little shit), I decided to treat you guys with another story quite quickly, because you guys have to wait so long for one chapter to come out every time.
My exams have begun and I don't have much time on my hands to give you many stories, and since you guys are amazing readers, you deserve this extra one.
The next time I will publish will be on the 10th of April, because that's when my exams are over, okay? Sorry to keep it so far away.

When I first read this idea, I didn't think it was really worth it because it seemed similar to works of plenty others writers. But then I read the second part of it, and let's just say, I was convinced. This is for you, @UltraAloha
Sorry for keeping you waiting, my friend.

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No one knew what actually happened.

One second, the Avengers were sitting casually in their rooms or the lounge, having a day off after the last two months full of missions, and the next second, all they see is black.

They were all knocked out, without even knowing it, leaving Jarvis confused.

"Mr. Stark? Do you want me to play the kitty videos or not?" JARVIS asked, not realizing that Tony was no longer in front of his laptop.

Where did everyone go?

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Your eyes opened slightly, trying to push back the dull throb in your head.
You lifted your head suddenly and a piercing headache split into your skull, making you let out a long groan.

That's when you realized. You had no idea what happened. You were just reading a book in your bedroom when everything turned black for you.

You ignored the headache, and opened your eyes, groaning again. You were in your bedroom.

And then a knock sounded from your door. A voice called out. "(Y/n), are you okay?"

That kicked your brain into action and you jumped up with wide eyes. You knew that voice.

You live with the person who owns that voice. Except, it sounded more younger?

"Clint?" You said back, realizing that your voice was sounding different too. You looked at your hand, which seemed smaller and chubbier than usual.

The door suddenly opened, revealing Clint, your brother. Except he looked about seventeen years old. Clint was a late bloomer, and so he was pretty short for his age. And stupid-looking.

You looked at him, he looked at you and the both of you gasped.

"What happened?" You shrieked at him.

"I don't know! I just remember waking up like this. Oh my god! My acne is back! I knew it would haunt me for the rest of my life." Clint blurted out, his voice breaking at certain parts of his speech. He clutched his face in horror as he looked at his reflection in a mirror.

You looked into the mirror. "Oh my - no! Why did I have to be this age?"

It was true. You hated being a sixteen year old. Your hair was a mess. Your face was chubbier and more babyish. And you had a very surprising dress code.

A sudden thought struck you. "Clint, where are we?"

He immediately ran to the window and looked out. His eyes widened in horror. Clint looked back to you with a shocked expression, making your scared. "W-we are in our old home. Queens." He muttered.

Just then, he started laughing so loudly. "I just realized! You were a goth at t-" he stopped when he actually realized what you were wearing.

You folded your arms and glared at him. "Yes, I'm still a goth, apparently."