Loki Laufeyson Imagine - Tumblr Posts

Ugh my heart 🥺💚

yehhh like, tomorrow's the deadline for the manuscript of my first article in my phd thesis and here I am, crying over soft tender moron loki??? he's a dumbass, I want to punch him, and I love him

FROM THE VOID, WITH LOVE  |  petal-mouthed

summary: you didn't know you were in a love story.

pairing: loki / f!reader, slight sylvie / f!reader

a/n: more good luck for anons! happy loki eve, i hope you set aside some time to drink some water and breathe! this long one is for you. once more, a gif by @starlightcastiel from this stunning set here.

[   MASTERPOST   ]

Space is weird.

All of it. I mean — whole civilizations and technology you'd never even imagined. It's mind-bogglingly amazing when you think about it. But, just like back home, there are some things that run through the veins of life: work, family, and home security systems.

In this case, the home security system is simply a well-armed, older woman with a concussive cannon, but... y'know. Potatoes, potatoes.

As you watch Sylvie, then Loki, be blasted five meters off the aforementioned old woman's front porch, you can't help but think back to last Thursday. Or... the last Thursday you remember. Time has been so muddled on this little adventure. It sort of hurts your head to think about.

Anyways, the point is you never thought you'd be here — watching a God who tried to conquer New York and his blonde sort-of-sibling, sort-of-not fly through the air and skid in the dirt.

Though the sight of both of them being launched off the porch might have initially startled a terrified laugh out of you, you weren't really keen on learning what a concussive blast to the chest felt like. So there you stood, yammering on to this woman, apologizing profusely, and just trying to learn where everyone had disappeared to.

(To Sylvie's point, where people are, power is.)

It works, though.

Maybe she takes pity on you.

Your success earns you two unamused looks when you hop off the porch, wave once to the woman and thank her for her time. With an urgent look, you usher the two up, and as the three of your scurry away, you make a point to brush off dirt from Loki's shoulders as he stalks ahead of you.

"You alright?"

"Worrying over me now, bug?" he asks with a hidden smirk, "That's adorable."

"Yeah, well that didn't exactly look like the most fun thing in the world," you supply tossing a look over your shoulder to Sylvie as she rubs her ribs and exhale tightly, "But at the very least we know where we need to be headed."

Sylvie scoffs. "We'll be lucky if we get there in time."

You are lucky. The three of you do get there in time, but not by much.

Just like before, back at that abandoned bar, the hairs on your neck stand up.

The long line winding along the train platforms seems to not matter at all — after all, there are people in glittering dresses and starched suits wandering up to present tickets, climbing towards their first class compartments. The second fiddle has been passed off to the families, to the elderly, to then children; all of which wait with pleading looks as guards coral them into waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

You try to ignore the churn of bile that stings that back of your throat; but this is how it is. How it will be.

Something don't change.

Jeff Bezos would be proud, you suppose.

Loki seems to notice your discomfort.

"Well, this looks fun," he offers in attempt to dispel your anxiety.

You and Sylvie give him a look. The God, behind you raises his hands in surrender.

"We can't fight our way onto that train," he mutters quietly as the three of you stalk along.

"Who said anything about fighting?" you ask, leaning back and talking out of the corner of his mouth.

"Not you," he says, gesturing to Sylvie with a jut of his chin, "All her plans involve fighting."

"Not this one," Sylvie says as she wets her lips and swaggers along. Her eyes roam the line, and linger on the guards checking tickets on top of the boarding platform, "I'm going to enchant a guard, have him lead us through the crowd, and if anyone gives us any trouble..."

"What? Start shooting?" you ask incredulously.

Loki speaks up, then, too. "Kill every guard? Hijack the train?"

Sylvie rolls her eyes at the two of you.

"Whether or not there's a fight is entirely up to them."

You groan quietly. "Not sure if you two haven't noticed, but the whole fighting thing isn't really my forte. I'm advocating for a plan that doesn't involve me getting my ass kicked—"

They have noticed, actually.

Loki's hands grip your shoulders. "We're doing this my way."

You blink. He pops over your over shoulder.

Sylvie turns, then promptly sighs. She pinches the bridge of her nose.

You eye Loki up and down. He clears his throat. Giving his hands a waggle, a bit of a tada moment, his excitement quickly falters when neither of you seem onboard.

"So are we... your prisoners?"

"Yes."

"Why can't I be some fancy mining heiress?" you ask, pouting slightly, "You can do the magic thing. Make me a cool dress."

"No."

"Well, why not?"

Loki's face falls flat. "Why does it matter — oh, come on, both of you."

"This is a shit plan."

"I agree with Sylvie," you mutter as she makes a face and does a once over of the dark-haired God behind you.

"Just follow my lead."

You're not exactly thrilled up have Loki's hand wrapped around your arm, but as he leads both you and Sylvie up the platform, you can feel his grip loosen a tad — and even then, you rest close to his chest as he clears his throat in greeting to the other guards.

You nearly lose it then and there.

"Taking these two to Shuroo."

Why... Why is he doing that?

You do a double look back at him, only to met with a slightly panicked look from Sylvie.

"Okay...?" the guard looks just as perplexed as you, "And the tickets?"

"Orders come from the top to get these two on this train," he bellows, leaning back into this... character.

You can't help the pained sigh that slip out fo your mouth. The young guard notices.

"Sir, this—"

Oh, thank god for Sylvie. She reaches quick, in a blink she's swallowed up the young man's mind in her grip. Though the ensuing conversation is by no means smooth, it gets the three of you on the train and that's really all that matters.

...The train.

It's beautiful. Like someone had taken Gatsby and Star Trek and mashed the two together until they got something that looked a little like those all-silver diners back home, but with a little bit more class. It's colorful and sleek and bustling with quiet conversation — it's clear that the three of you have wandered into the first class cabin by the looks of the bar and patrons.

You slide into a booth against the far wall, startled when Loki suddenly stops dead in front of Sylvie and blinks.

"Uhm, uh, look, I can't go backwards on a train."

He points to her spot. You watch with a slight smile.

"Well, I never sit with my back to a door."

"What?" Loki's eyes find yours as his nose scrunches and he questions his counterpart, "There are doors on both sides?"

You shrug, rub away your smile, and settle in.

"Just sit down, will you?"

Loki does, albeit a tad upset. His knees knock yours beneath the table and he apologizes in a rushed breath; his long legs fold underneath him as he struggles to get comfortable.

You watch Sylvie pin him with a glare.

Here we go.

You drop your chin into your hand and watch the two from the center of the table.

"FYI, that wasn't even a plan."

"Oh, really?"

"Plans have multiple steps. Dressing as a guard and getting on a train is just doing a thing—"

"Are you two done?" you ask, head bobbing as you rest it still in your palm. Your eyes are heavy. You're, honestly, feeling exhausted once more.

You apparently aren't the only one.

You catch Sylvie smothering a yawn out of the corner of your eye.

"You should rest."

She frowns deeply.

"I can't sleep in a place like this."

It's your turn to frown.

Loki squints. "What? A train?"

"No," she bites back, leaning forward to toss an insult at Loki, "I can't sleep around untrustworthy people."

"Do you not trust me?" you ask suddenly.

Sylvie blinks. "No, love — that's not what I meant."

"Not your 'love'," Loki corrects haughtily as he waggles a finger, "But, no, Doctor, I'm assuming she means me."

"Oh, please, you feel free to take a nap, then, Variant—"

"Nice try."

Sylvie shuts her eyes and exhales tightly. "I'm not going to waste my time rooting around for the TemPad when someone taught you fairly decent magic."

"My mother," he calls back as a final word — and it's enough to stifle Sylvie's fire for a moment. Her scoff is one of resignation as Loki leans back, and you watch her eyes soften.

She's staring into space.

Then, they're on you.

"Do you dream of her?"

You lift your eyes from the table.

The question startles a different sort of silence out of you — one that's weighted with contemplation. How did she know?

When you nod, Sylvie almost laughs.

Loki's face is soft.

"What is she like?" she asks suddenly, and Loki's gaze drifts from your face to hers.

"She was, uhm..."

He wets his lips, he inhales, and for the first time you can remember, you see him for who he really is — you see a man, not a God. You see echoes of his childhood, of his life, of his mother. There's love in his eyes when he speaks and it's disarming. You feel like he's holding your heart in his hand, squeezing with every syllabic admission of reverence towards the woman.

A blink. His head drops.

"A Queen of Asgard," he breathes as he nods, "She was good. Purely decent."

His eyes are suddenly swallowed with sadness. Your chest aches. His eyes find you in the sea of feelings — and Sylvie watches the rare moment of connection spark between the two of you.

When Loki speaks, his voice is calm. His eyes don't leave your face.

"She would have liked our dear Doctor, I believe. Quite a lot."

"Purely decent," Sylvie echoes, stifling her bubble of emotions with a snort, "Sure she's your mother?"

"Oh, no, she's not actually," he says pointedly, "I was adopted. Is that a bit of a spoiler for you? Sorry about that."

Sylvie's lips a pressed into a tight line. She shakes her head. "No, I knew I was adopted."

Loki gawks.

Your brows knot.

"What?" he breathes out as he leans forward, "They told you?"

"Did they not tell you?" you ask incredulously, face screwed up in a muddled mess of confusion and shock.

"No," he says as he looks at you, shaking his head, "I mean, they did eventually."

Sylvie winces. You do the same.

"Hang on a second — so tell... I? Uh — tell me about your mother."

The blonde sighs. She shakes her head.

"I barely remember her," she explains, tilting her head, "Just blips of a dream at this point."

You rub your cheek.

The two of them fall into silence.

And, then, you watch Loki offer some sort of olive branch — a shred of his own memory, something to fill in the gaps between the blips for Sylvie. It feels pure, and you can see the pride in his eyes as he speaks about Lady Frigga.

"You know, when I was young, she'd do these little bits of magic for me."

You watch his face light up.

"...Turn a flower into a frog, or cast fireworks over the water."

Sylvie looks on beside you.

Loki continues. "It all seemed impossible. But, she told me one day I'd be able to do it, too, because..."

His eyes flit shut. He exhales. And almost like he's realizing a lost truth, finished his thought.

"Because I could do anything."

You can see something welling in Sylvie's eyes — and maybe Loki does, too. Maybe that's why he offers up his hand in your direction, keen on showing you something to pull from the sap.

"Want to see?"

You both nod.

And, when he opens his palm, it's beautiful.

Little crackles of light explode from his palm in tendrils of color and you find yourself completely and totally enamored with the sight. You — the scientist, the atheist, the methodical and logical. And yet, it's magic. It's magic and it's right there, bubbling alive as fireworks dance through the air between the three of you.

You can hardly help yourself when you reach out and prod a finger towards the projected illusion. Like a drop of water on a calm lake, the lights ebb and flow around your finger only before chasing their way up your hand.

Loki is smirking to himself as the illusion is now held in your palm. Like a child, brimming with wonder, you laugh out loud.

It tickles. Like a cool puff of air. Nearly the opposite to Sylvie's magic. Hers was itchy. Irritating. Hot. This is... beautiful.

Then, Loki reaches out — he scoops up the little trick and closes his palm and gone is the light. Your wonder remains.

Sylvie, to your right, chuckles to herself.

It's... it's endearing. You and him. This little love that's blossoming before her very eyes. And while it's not perfect, she can see echoes of her own love here. It tugs at her heartstrings to the tempo of the harp in the far corner. She settles back into her booth.

"I just... I don't understand."

"Magic, dear," Sylvie says as she smiles, "It's magic."

"Speaking of," Loki says as his knee presses against yours beneath the table, "How do you do that... y'know. The — the thing?"

He mimics her reach. Sylvie snorts.

"It'd be easier if I showed you."

"Why, so you can grab a hold of my mind, get the TemPad and leave us both here to die? I don't think so!"

"Then don't ask!"

The banter is childish and the two dissolve into smiles at the sibling-like interaction.

Suddenly, champagne.

"Ooh!"

Loki takes a glass, and when you and Sylvie wave it off, he happily scoops up the two other glasses with eyes bigger than his stomach. You snort quietly as he takes a gracious sip and wets his lips.

He offers his glass to you. You consider it, then take it gently by the stem.

As Loki speaks, he tries to ignore the way your lips pass along the same place his did moments ago.

What a childish bit of longing.

He swallows. "A pity the old woman chose to die, don't you think?"

"She was in love."

You scoff and hand the glass back to Loki. "She hated him, Sylvie."

"I agree with the Doctor on this one—"

"Well, maybe love is hate."

Her gaze flickers knowingly between the two of you — and you and Loki catch it easily. For a moment, it's like it's only you and him on that train. But, it's a brief moment, and it dissolves into sheepishness after your gaze breaks. The two of you squirm in your seats, ignoring the look with cleared throats; while you wave it off, Loki is more keen on making it quite the joke.

With a flick of his wrist, a quill and piece of parchment appear. He gently elbows you as he waggles his brows. "Should probably remember that, don't you think?"

"Be my guest," you laugh.

"What was that, again? 'Love is'..." he scrawls something, reveling in the sound of your muffled laughter, "Was it 'love is hate'?"

"Oh, piss off."

Another flick of the wrist. The show has dissolved in a wave of green.

He smiles at Sylvie.

"On the subject of love..." he begins, taking another long sip, "It seems we have something in common. Or, well, someone."

You can't help but ignore the roaring flame that suggestion stokes in your gut — all against your better judgement. After all, this is Loki. Reoccuring Variant Anomalies or not, this was a man you couldn't stand. He was cunning and wicked and manipulative and tall and handsome and rather funny when pressed. The cocktail of self-loathing this sudden rush of attraction brings is embarrassing at best.

"That we do."

"What's she like?" you ask, rushing to distract yourself, "The... other version of me?"

Sylvie seems to ponder that for a moment. She leans back, crosses her legs, and thinks.

When she speaks, her voice is tender.

"The smartest woman I've ever met," she says, "She knows me better than I know myself — and it drives me insane."

You can't help but smile. "Does she look like me?"

"Oh, yes, it's a bit scary, actually," she rushes out with a laugh. Then, she quiets down.

You and Loki share a worried look when her gaze drifts off.

"She was the only thing that kept me going."

It hurts. You can see the ache. The hurt. The tender bloom of longing. It pricks her cheeks and turns her mouth red with spite — and Sylvie is quick to allude her sudden vulnerability.

"But, you," Sylvie says, "The both of you...?"

You blink. "I... I'm not sure what you're asking."

Loki squints. "Though everyone is keen on assuming we've already been married, I assure you we're far from it."

"Ah," Sylvie says, almost smiling, "So that little lover's spat was... what? Nothing more?"

"Oh, please, he's insufferable, I stand by that," you explain.

Loki nods with a comically, forced face of acceptance. "She isn't exactly wrong."

"Right," she breathes, "But you can see it, can't you? You and I know. Up until now, we've never had something..."

"Real."

The two of them say it at once.

You lean back slowly. Loki swallows another mouthful of champagne, wets his lips and nods. He accepts that for what it is — and who is he to lie. Not about this. About you.

"Love is mischief, then."

There's a smirk there.

However, Loki's gaze has drifted off — and as he holds his glass a bit tighter, you see a flicker of something contemplative venture into his eyes.

"No..." he begins, eyes flicking to land on your face. They dance there, shifting between your eyes and your mouth and the gentle slope of your nose. He trails off, "Love is..."

You've never been looked at like this in your life — like you're as bright as the sun, as beautiful as the moon, as untouchable as the stars. You feel revered, like someone has hung a halo on your head and kissed your skin with uttered prayer. It nearly seizes up your entire heart.

And maybe it's worsened by the man he is — by the sheer fact that he's Loki. That he's a shadow of a villain you're not to trust, that he's a liar and devil. That he despises all that you are: human above all.

You hadn't realized you were holding your breath.

He seems to snap out of after what feels like forever, and reaches for his glass once more.

You exhale and your fingers tremble against your palm. You begin to worry it beneath the table.

"Uh... Love is something I might have to have another drink to think about."

He tries to play it off with a scoff and a tip of his drink.

He feels heavy.

But, Sylvie knows better. She narrows in on your wide-eyed look and pats your arm. Wordlessly, she comforts your dawning realization that... it's happening. That predestined thing was beginning.

Or had it already started and you've just now begun to piece it together?

You might need a drink. Or a nap.

Both. Both is good.

"You know the three of us are about to hijack the power source to civilization's last hope for survival," she says, "It's not going to be easy."

"Don't remind me," you breathe, "It's messed up."

"We should rest."

"Alright, then," he breathes as he leans back and nods, "You relax your way, and I relax mine."

Sylvie meets your gaze after a moment, then shakes her head. She decidedly makes a point of settling into the booth, and you decide to do the same.

All while the God of Mischief does what he does best.

You stir a half an hour or so later to the sound of singing — and when you raise your head and part the sea of hair hanging in your face, you see that Sylvie is still fast asleep beside you.

Confusion mingles with sleep; as you rub your eyes, you reach for the booth beside you, but Loki isn't there. That sends you bolting upright, and then you realize the singing is him.

Almost as if Sylvie had sensed you panic, she's roused now as well — all in time to see the God of Mischief, apparently drunk, begin his own crooning belt of some song in... Norse? Old Norse? Or, just Norwegian?

"What is he doing?" she whispers harshly.

"I have no idea," you whisper back.

You don't know enough of the language to have even the slightest idea of what's happening. He suddenly shushes the crowd and the rowdy tune slows down into something heavier. Something... filled with heartache.

It's that look again.

The one from before.

And he's singing, all while pinning you square in the booth as he does.

As he leans against the bar, you watch his posture change from confident to nearly bashful.

Your whole chest locks up just like before and your heart is in your throat.

The whole train car seems to hang on this interaction between the two of you, and people follow the tender gaze of the man — and you squirm in your seat.

I storm svarte fjell, jeg vandrer alene Over isbreer tar jeg meg frem I eplehagen står møyen den vene Og synger, når kommer du hjem?

He shifts on his feet, and his eyes are sad.

Then, he bounds back into the tempo from before with boyish enthusiasm.

"When she sings, she sings come home!"

The party begins once more, only ending when the God waves his hands and the harp stops and the room descends into laughter and applause.

Sylvie looks at you with wide-eyes.

"And you two aren't in love?"

You speak quickly as you follow her out of the booth. "I'm beginning to think I missed something."

And maybe you have, and maybe that thing is a dagger.

Loki has always been fascinated by humans, and used to sneak off to Midgard to watch how they lived and interacted. He met a girl who was getting bullied, and scared her bullies so much that they never spoke to her again.

Years later, you're working for Stark, and Loki recognizes you.

"Darling (Y/N), how long has it been? How about we have a little chat."

It's not Lady Loki. . .

Forget Me Not... Masterlist-

Based on this request...this one hurts, be prepared!

--this started as a one shot and grew to a mini-series, I blame peer pressure lol so i put a masterlist together to make them easier to find. thank you guys so so much for all the comments, reblogs, and support you guys give me!!!! I can't tell you how much it means to me!!!! Love you guys!!!!!! 💚💚💚

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: mentions of accident, mentions of blood, memory loss, malnutrition, dehydration, major depression, death ideation, crying, heartbreak, guilt, anger, isolation, mentions of trauma, mentions of illness, minor smut (nothing graphic) mind manipulation, hospitalization, mentions of iv's, recovery, literally all the angst, this one hurts, please read the warnings, angst with happy ending.

Summary: you and Loki had been together almost a year, you had never been happier as he asked you to move in with him. It all falls apart when you go on a mission and a freak accident causes Loki to lose his memory of you and what you had. You try to cope as you watch the love of your life not know who you are.........

====================================

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Part five

3, 7 and 9 for Loki

It takes a lot to make Loki sick, so when he does he's an absolute bear and wants to be doted on. Plus, kisses make the ache/hurt feel better.

You Make It Better

Loki x reader

Words: 347

~~~~~

Based on:

3. Acts like a baby when they’re sick

7. Secretly loves nose/forehead kisses

9.Gets cranky when they’re tired

~~~~~

“Darliiiinnggg,” dragged a hoarse voice coming from your bedroom.

“I’m coming,” you say, putting the finishing touches on the hot tea.

Loki was sick, or something of the sort. You didn’t exactly know what it was and at first when you pointed out he was ill, he declined, claiming that he doesn’t get sick. But it was obvious; the tired eyes, the unusual unkempt look, his more irritable than usual tone, it was obvious that he wasn’t well.

After disagreeing with you for about an hour, you’ve somehow done it. You’ve convinced him to take a nap and the moment his body hit your bed, his attitude melted and he did a complete one-eighty.

His voice that was booming before was now soft with each word.

Currently finishing up, you slowly step into the bedroom with the cup in hand. Across the room, there Loki lay waiting for you.

“I made you Peppermint tea,” you said, holding it out.

He gently pushed your hand to the side, “I don’t need foolish tea,” he said. “Okay, what do you need then? Cold water? A warm towel? A cold towel?”

Despite being unwell, that didn’t stop a grin from spreading along on his face, without a word he tugged you downwards and you leaned lowering your head closer. Bringing both of his warm hands to your cheeks he continues to pull you. You expect him to stop sometime, but he pulls you until your lips are against his forehead. Then he leans back satisfied, “much better,” he says with a wink and you shake your head with a grin.

“Get some rest,” you say, turning around to leave the room. “Wait!” He shouts and you turn back, “I need one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

His arms extended out, “Your warmth.”

Although a little bit surprised, you can’t help but grin to yourself, who would’ve thought that the man who used to abhor romance would be laying in front of you begging for your cuddles.

You climbed into his arms making yourself the little spoon before you relaxed against him.

AHHHHHH

Dad, Don't Kill Him ➳ Loki Laufeyson

➳ this is from the pregnancy prompt list. if you want to see me write a fic from this prompt list, let me know! :) sorry for any mistakes!

➳ a/n: AHHHHH this one has my heart 😭💗

➳ pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Stark!Reader

➳ summary: As the daughter of Tony Stark, when you find out you and Loki are pregnant, you can only hope that your dad takes the news well. And doesn't try to murder Loki.

➳ warnings: talks of pregnancy, if that triggers you. other than that, just pure fluff! 💗

➳ prompts: “I already know this kid’s gonna be the luckiest kid in the world. They’ve got you as a mom/dad/parent/aunt/uncle/etc.”

➳ || Loki masterlist || main masterlist || who I write for 💓 ||

“Darling, it’s going to be fine,” Loki said as the two of you walked toward the front door of the lakeside cabin he lived in. In your pocket were the ultrasound pictures of the baby you weren’t expecting to conceive this soon, and it was all still so surreal to know that you and Loki were going to be parents.

You recalled the rocky past that Loki and your father, Tony Stark, shared. Everything went downhill during the 2012 New York attack, but when Loki redeemed himself, you found yourself falling head over heels in love with him -- and there was nothing Tony could do about it. Although he had tried to argue with you about the consequences of falling for someone of Loki’s kind, his heart ultimately softened when he saw how happy Loki made you, and how he treated you.

When the two of you were married, Tony promised Loki that if something happened to you, he would ensure no one could ever find him again. And Loki knew it wasn’t just a promise. It was a promised threat.

Loki wrapped his hand around your back. “I’m just… Worried, you know? Our engagement through Dad for a loop, even though we had been dating for two years prior… He’s just… Loki, he’s Tony Stark. He’s as intimidating as he is cocky.”

“But not toward his little girl,” Loki reminded you with a softened smile. “Darling, excluding myself, you are giving him his first grandchild. He’s going to be elated… He may try to kill me for impregnating his daughter, but he should’ve known that was coming. If only he knew how you acted when he wasn’t around. You’re certainly not a saint.”

“Loki!” You groaned, realizing he was trying to alleviate the situation. Loki mustered a grin and kissed the side of your cheek as you grabbed the doorknob. Pushing your way inside, you saw your father come down the stairs.

“Hey, kid!” He smiled widely before it dropped. “...Reindeer Games,” Tony added once he registered Loki until he half-smiled.

“Stark,” Loki laughed.

Tony walked over and engulfed you in a hug before he shook Loki’s hand. “What brings you by? I wasn’t expecting to see you until the weekend,” He said, walking into the kitchen. You followed closely behind, seeing as your father plucked a grape from the bunch on the counter and popped it into his mouth.

You smiled to yourself. “Dad, there’s something I need to tell you,” You whispered.

Tony’s eyebrows lifted. “If it’s to tell me you and Reindeer Games are expecting,” He said, and that’s when your smile dropped. Tony looked up at you, seeing how your face fell. He glanced between you and Loki who rubbed the small of your back.

“Y/N?” He called your name. “Are you serious?” He asked.

Hesitantly, you reached into your back pocket and pulled out the ultrasound pictures. Handing them over to him, Tony glanced between you and your extended hand.

“Twinkle Toes, you got my daughter pregnant?” Tony asked as he accepted the pictures. He flipped them open and your heart pounded violently in your chest as his eyes observed the tiny baby in the black and white photograph.

“Tony,” Loki laughed.

Tony’s brown orbs pooled as he ran his fingers over the images. You sucked in a shaky breath as you waited for his reaction. He broke out into a grin. “I already knew, kid.” He said, not taking his eyes off the picture.

“H-How?” You breathed out.

Tony chuckled. “Your mother had the same glow about her when she was pregnant with you,” He said. Your eyes clouded with tears and Tony quickly wrapped his arms around your body. “Congratulations, sweetheart,” He kissed the top of your head. “But I’m gonna kill you,” He pointed at Loki.

You giggled as he released you to shake Loki’s hand. “Congratulations, Sparkles. But now that this baby is going to have Stark blood in them… I hope you can handle it.” He winked. “And if they come out blue, I want a refund.”

“DAD!” You squeaked, earning him to ruffle his hand through your hair, playfully messing it up.

Tony winked, kissing your temple. As you hugged him, you couldn’t help but start to cry. “I already know this kid’s gonna be the luckiest kid in the world. They’ve got you as a granddad.” You looked up at Tony whose brown eyes were brimming with tears.

He picked up the ultrasound pictures again, his breath catching.

“Stop, I hate for you to see me cry.” He laughed, wiping his eyes.

You smiled, nuzzling closer to him. “Thanks for not killing, Loki,” You whispered.

Tony peeked an eye open and stared at Loki who rolled his eyes playfully.

“Oh, he’s not off the hook yet,” Tony announced with a laugh.

➳ tagging:

@joyful-enchantress @immersed-in-mischief @huntress-artemiss @high-functioning-lokipath

@annoyingsweetsstranger

@eclecticlokibytomhiddleston @spidyyparker @deanaddicted2

@ethanshide @lokistoriesblog @l0st-in-reality

@shae-annelore

@realandloud

@favthiddles

@marvelgirl0515

@tiredmamamac

@cherii--bomb

@stuckybarton

@peachsteven

@vampire7595

@moonshooter

@knopewyattworld @holdmytesseract

@wander-lustbabe

@captain-asguard @mm2305

@1marvelnerd3000

@xfirespritex @lokilover64 @augusta-imperatrix

@inas-thing

@harrietbarnesblog

@a-laufeyson

@BakaTsuki-Hime

@lokiswildheartcantbebroken @marvelgirl0515

@a-laufeyson

@warriorqueenofthesea @develin13

@clockblobber

@blackberryblossom

@stephv213

@asgardianprincess1050 @badgereatingmice

@abaristasbabble

@pandaxnienke

@dryyoursaltyoceantears

@itscale

@xsweetdellzx

@salempoe

@el-zef