A Stranger of Green and Gold (Loki x reader)

Chapter 11: Fine, DAD

Word Count: 1305

Tony sighed and rolled his eyes. "The one thing I told you not to do, y/n I swear. Thor, take care of mean green over there. Please," He rubbed his forehead and pointed at Loki, who had, rather gracefully, recovered from hitting the sofa. "I-I have to talk to my daughter." You inched away from the conversation center, hoping no one would notice if you disappeared. Of course someone did. "Y/n. Stay here. F.R.I.D.A.Y., just um.." 

"On it." A burst of pressurized white steam burst out of the coffee table's leg and cleaned out the carpet. The steam was made to put out fires and also did quick cleaning, there was at least one positioned in each room. You knew because you helped design it, but Tony never brought that up. 

"So," Tony sat down on the couch and patted a seat next to him, motioning for you to sit down. "I know how hard you want to be able to join the team. And I know you think it would be fair if you did. I talked with the rest of the team about it all and they agreed with me," Your breath was caught up in your chest, this was your moment, this was when you could finally join the team, and help everyone out, and make sure everything went ok, and spend more time with Loki, maybe even- "You aren't ready." You could practically hear the classic glass shattering sound effect. "We all talked about it, I can't have you out there, it's too dangerous for you, and your actions out there proved it. Loki's dangerous. We should have let that wizard guy take care of him, because then we wouldn't have to. Stay away from him, you hear me?" The fabric of the couch left imprints on your hands as you squeezed the cushions tightly, holding back pent up rage like a balloon about to burst. "Y/n. Come on, honey." Wincing, you bit down hard on your bottom lip to keep yourself from screaming at Tony with every foul name you could think of. That wouldn't get you anywhere, and you knew it.

"Fine. Fine!" You were blinking fast to hold back angry tears, standing up to face Tony with your hands in tight fists by your side. "Not like I've been training to be a part of this ever since I was 12! Not like this was my DREAM, like this IS my dream! Fine, DAD!" You were still blinking back tears as you stomped out to your workshop. "5 years, dad! 5 years of training!"

"Y/n, wait!" You heard Tony calling to you from the main room, you didn't care. You shut the door, locked it, and fell down on your bed.

You snatched a pillow from off your bed and angrily chucked it onto the ground, tears trickling down your cheeks in two small rivers. Your sleeves were dampened by salty tears as you wiped them off and sniffled, ignoring how the waterworks immediately returned. You slumped down to the ground, grabbing the previously slam-dunked pillow close to your chest and crying into it, stifling what would be heavy sobs with deep, patchy breaths. You sniffled again and wiped away the water from your face with a pillowcase corner, reaching under your bed for your combat gloves. You found one and slipped it on, strapping it tightly. It was mostly black, and had the same anatomy to a fingerless glove, with the exception of the Velcro strap around your wrist, holding it in place. It was made out a tough leathery material, with padding at the knuckles to keep them safe from bleeding. A few emerald-green accents were present in loopy curves down the center and up the thumb, adding color to the otherwise drab glove. You felt around untill you found your second glove and strapped it on, taking one last sniffle as you stood up to leave your room.

Instead of taking the regular hallway exit, as you were sure Tony was waiting there for you, you turned and headed back into your laboratory space. You had a secret door in the back there that led to a closet in the hallway. It was your secret thing, hidden behind a large board of light sheet metal. The metal scraped as you pulled it aside and clattered onto the ground, revealing a very invisible door that practically melted into the wall. You swung it open and tiptoed inside, your breath still spotted and shaking, sniffles echoing in the dim hallway.

-Haven't had a timeskip in a while, have we?-

You stepped into the huge training center of the tower, added specifically for the team, and you, since you weren't apart of it. It was very blank, with blank white walls on all but one, which was crowded with identical windows to let in natural light. The left wall had an array of water fountains and small towels, and a few basic vending machines, stocked with a basic snack variety and 5 types of Poptarts. One side of the room was devoted to physical training, the walls holding up an array of sand-filled punching bags, hung from metal beams with heavy chain. Various plain black hand guards and the like spread across the gray padded floor, it looked like they had been tossed aside when a training session was over and whomever was there had found something better to do.

The other side of the room was for weapons training, and had a row of shooting targets, a rack of various different guns and shooty-type weapons, as well as a holding area for various types of safety gear, goggles, and similar, in an array of sizes. The tile floor was white as well, bearing a striking resemblance to the walls.

The room always smelled like cleaning supplies, giving you a mild headache if you stayed in there too long without opening up a window or just leaving. You grabbed a rubber band from your wrist and tied up your h/l locks behind your head, walking over to a medium sized punching bag. You took a deep breath and got into stance, keeping your feet held down and your shoulders squared as you fired punch after punch into to bag, your fists spinning through the air like bullets as the heavy bag ricocheted around its hold, the chain and metal creaking with every punch. You swung up your back leg and kicked with your heel, your toes firmly squared back. The bag hit the wall and flew back, right into a solid kick from your other foot. Your breathing wasn't spotty anymore, it was strong and consistent, as you had hoped. You paused your tirade on the punching bag, and took a deep breath, steadying it from it's rocking. You loved being here alone, not having to worry about being as good as people with super powers, or people who basically had super powers, like Nat. It felt, in a maybe weird way, powerful.

Don't take that last sentence weirdly please, I just couldn't figure out how to end this without leaving it on a weird cliffhanger. Big news, there's going to be a lot happening (super romantic nose-bleedy) in the next two or so chapters, so get ready for that! If you haven't seen on my page already, I'm hoping to wrap this up at around 25-30 chapters so I can start another fanfic I'm real excited about. Don't forget to comment any criticisms or similar, vote, amd follow me for updates and random posts sometimes. Have a gorgeously shimmering day, my croissant children!