#and special shout out to Sky for being an awesome partner both behind the scenes and with making that colorful spider-webby background!!

[flame-shadow]

Nosk Party Time !!!!!! ✨

The final result of a collaborative project run by @flame-shadow and @fly-sky-high-bug-games with folks contributing drawings of their nosk OCs.

Credits and characters:

@brennustheskeleton (Damson), @real-live-human (Aril), @slimeel (Shade Nosk), @notthesaint (Belfly nosk), @zombugz (Saccharin), @monotone-artist (Inkwell), @wabbitears (Vic), @wolfieolfie (Gyre), @localcornflake (Mosskin nosk), @ratcandy (Den Elder), @devilcatdarling (Hive Bee Nosk), @charlieghostcrab (Seashore), @vulturereyy (Boofly Nosk), @reveks (Flora), @ahntherootvessel (Ahn Nosk), @daily-mossfly (Mnoskfly), @littledc5 (Sol Nosk), @flame-shadow (Chalice and Candy), @fly-sky-high-bug-games (Crucible)

[chopper-witch]

Honey, Where is My Super Suit one-shot series: Loki

Pairing: Loki x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: some angst, poor Loki’s dinner gets ruined, implied smut

Word count: 2,927

Summary: Loki has your special dinner all planned out and is more than a little upset when it ends up disturbed.

____

“When you said you were glad we finally got to have dinner together because you set up something special I expected… I’m not sure. But not this!” You exclaim, gesturing towards the set up. 

Three weeks ago was your and Loki’s three year anniversary but any plans that may have been were canceled by a last-minute mission you were needed on that started three days before your anniversary and ended eight days after. 

But that was a pattern you and Loki were accustomed to: plans were never guaranteed. Whether it was you being whisked away due to an emergency mission or him being called in due to an 084 they needed help with, it became apart of your life. 

Or if plans weren’t interrupted by last-minute calls, then they were interrupted by surprise visits from friends and co-workers who love to just show up and don’t need a key to get inside, like Natasha or Tony. No matter what security (or spells) you two installed, they always find their way in. 

So tonight you were assured by Fury, Coulson, and several others up the chain of command that you would not be needed tonight and if there were any issues with 084s they would handle it the way they did before the Asgardians landed on Earth.

Which is how you walked back into your apartment after Loki telling you to stay out until 7 PM to this scene. 

Candles lit nearly everywhere: on the table by the couch, on the kitchen counter, and a few larger ones on the tiny table you wedge near the window. An obscene amount of food, all things Loki has called his specialties ever since he learned how to cook down here on Earth: alfredo bowtie pasta, panelle with goat cheese and salsa rustica, arancini, saltimbocca, and the most delicious chocolate cake you have ever had (Loki became partial it Italian food and you still have yet to figure out why). And the best part, of course, is Loki, standing nervously by the table. 

“So is it alright?”

Your eyes flit back to him in his perfectly tailored all black suit. “It’s perfect, Loki.”

“Well then stop staring at it and come enjoy it.”

“So pushy.” 

But you comply, dropping your bag beside the door and walking over to your absolutely perfect boyfriend. 

“Alright,” you smile, grabbing the lapels of his suit, “what is first of the menu chef.” 

Loki releases a small chuckle. “First is a kiss.” 

He presses his lips to yours lightly, barely even touching your lips fully with his chaste kiss. Nonetheless the softness of his lips never fails to make you smile, so any kiss is a good kiss with him.

“And now, it’s whatever you’d like to start with.” 

You bite you lip. Everything he makes always ends up perfect somehow. “How about a little of everything?” 

“Anything for you.” 

But Loki, being the true (yet suspiciously well-behaved) gentleman he is, pulls your chair for you at the tiny table wedge near the window. It’s sweet so you comply, normally not keen on letting him to things for you. 

Once everything is settled the two of you can legitimately talk. Your plate is full of far too much food and the wine Loki got is definitely something special. Him being so sweet is always lovely, so you don’t mind.

You take a sip of the red wine. It’s surprisingly sweet on your tongue and amazing. 

“Who woulda thought you’d fall in love with your baby sitter?” You muse.

Loki leans back in his chair, peering over to you. “I believe you were the one who said not to call you a baby sitter.”

“True,” you shrug, “but that is basically what I was while they figured out what to do with you.” You shrug and swirl the glass of wine around. “Anything interesting happen besides you cooking earlier? I have a hard time believing you didn’t use your magic.” 

“Oh, I didn’t. What did end up happening is -” 

A long, light familiar buzz emanates from your watch. Mission alert. 

10 second pause. “And then I couldn’t find where you kept the larger things pans.”

Three short but equally light vibrations. Meet at curb of current location. 

15 second pause. “- going to the store to get the wine I want to cook with. That took far too lo-” 

Two short vibrations followed by one equal to both combined. 25 minutes. 

5 second pause. “- is how the panelle ended up so perfect.” 

Three heartbeat-like vibrations. Sam? 

You are dead last on Sam’s list of mission partners meaning it really is important if you are being called in. Literally every single Avenger followed by six other agents come before you. 

“Hey, love,” you say, placing your glass of wine down on the table, “I’m sorry to interrupt your story, but I really need to pee.” 

Though the excuse is poor and weird and horribly said, you stand, hoping he will take it.

The door clicks shut behind you, your hands pressing the lock simultaneously so it doesn’t sound off after the door closes. You really do need to pee; your main objective, however, is to get your second suit that’s hidden in the wall for emergencies like this. Also to find the proper words to apologize to Loki. But it’s just another dinner ruined after all. Just like every single one so far over the past few months. 

After doing your business (and washing your hands extra loudly to keep Loki distracted from thinking something suspicious) you pull on the lever along the vent on the ground. The panel slides open, the section of the wall well hidden due to it being tiled. 

It’s empty. No pants, no shirt, no jacket, no boots, no weaponry. Not even the pepper spray is in there. 

Your hands feel around inside. Maybe things are just hidden in the shadows? 

No. 

It’s entirely empty.

Loki.

“You alright love?” 

You pull open the door, a sickly sweet smile on your face. Loki is leaning casually against the end of your bed frame, hands curled around the wood. He has that stupid satisfied smirk on his face that you’ve gladly kicked off more than once. 

“Loki, where did you put my suit?” You ask through clenched teeth. 

“I don’t know what you speak of?” He shrugs. 

“Honey, dear, love, where is my suit? There is an emergency situation and Sam will be at the curb in 20 minutes.” 

“I think the real emergency here is the danger you put our dinner in.” 

“Loki, this isn’t a joke!” Your voice is beginning to raise. 

“You promised me a night off.” Loki pushes himself forward, taking the two steps it takes to get to you. “Fury and Coulson assured you of a night off. The only joke here is thinking I would let you go.” He rests his right hand along your jaw, thumb gently tracing along your cheek. 

“Loki where did you put it? And how do you even know about it?”

“You are not as sneaky as you believe.” He grins.

“Where is it?” 

“That is not important.” 

“Not important?” You shove him back. “Loki there is an emergency somewhere that they called me as Sam’s partner. That’s really fucking important.” 

“Nothing is as important as this dinner.” His voice is still tempered, calm. 

And it is utterly infuriating. 

“We can have thousands of dinners Loki.” You sigh, closing your eyes a moment to try and calm your voice.“If I don’t go help people down there, they may never have any more. Where is my goddamn suit?” 

“Finish our dinner and I’ll tell you.” 

“I don’t have that kind of time.” You shake your head at him. Your phone vibrates twice on the counter. “And look, there is more of the mission information. Goddamnit Loki this is important!” It comes out more like a whine than a shout, your anger reaching a breaking point at his complete and utter calm.

“I am more important than some foolish mission that will turn upside down like it always does!” He huffs. “I am your significant other and this is the first time we are finally getting a night together without interruptions.” 

“They wouldn’t call me if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.” Your posture relaxes and you walk a bit closer to him. Your right hand reaches to rest at the nape of his neck, your left resting gently on his chest. “You are one of the most important people in the world to me, but helping those who need it is important as well. We will get a night off at some point, I promise.” You look down before releasing him reluctantly, turning to grab your phone. 

He is stoic in his spot half way between the bed at the bathroom door, forcing you to push past him as you dial Sam. 

Loki chooses not to try and convince you to stay and leans back against the bed, listening to your voice as it trails off. 

“Hey, any chance you have my suit or an extra one that might fit me? Oh awesome, thanks Sam. That reminds me...” 

His hands squeeze the bed frame; the wood cracks beneath his grip and is immediately iced over. 

—

One week and a far too long debrief later, Sam is parked back in front of your apartment complex. You look up at the building against the night sky, happy to be home, nervous about what is to come. 

“How mad do you think he is?” You quietly ask. 

Sam laughs. “Your paycheck for the next year is gonna be spent on making it up to that drama king up there. Good luck.” 

“It’s gonna take more than luck for me to survive whatever is waiting for me up there. Til next time bird brains.” 

“Nuh uh, you know I only let one person call me that and even then...” 

“Yeah, whatever. Night!” 

-

With a shaky exhale you unlock your apartment door. You know Loki is still there, he never stays at the place they set up for him in the compound even when you both fight. 

“Loki?” You call out. 

There’s no response. 

On the table of your living room is a tipped vase of your favorite flowers, the water long evaporated. The kitchen is almost entirely clean of any indication the two of you were supposed to have a romantic evening or any sort of evening at all save the now re-corked bottle of wine on the center of the counter. 

“Loki?” You call out again, dropping your tactical bag to the bench beside the door. “I know you’re here. I’m sorry.” 

The door of your bedroom opens, the sound loud compared to the relative silence of the rest of your apartment. Loki creeps quietly through the short hallway. He comes into the light looking arguably better, and worse, than you. And it isn’t like he hasn’t be taking care of himself; he rather looks like he’s been mentally beating himself up over your fight. Eyes slightly sunken, hair a little more messy than normal and an actual sweatshirt instead of just a zip-up hoodie like he normally wear if he is going to be in relaxed clothing.

“I’m so sorry for ruining our night,” you begin to apologize, moving forward towards him. “Everything was set up so nicely too, you even made dinner, like a full five course meal. I didn’t want to go but... I had to. I really did need to go.” 

Loki had been making his way towards you as you spoke. His head tilts down once he reaches you, hands pulling up into his sweatshirt to make sweater paws, a nervous habit of his. He quickly removes the fabric from his hands. It’s just you, he reminds himself. 

“I’m sorry for trying to make you try to choose between your job and me.” Loki lifts up his hands so his palms face you. You smile, threading your fingers through his, the feeling of his skin against yours a nice change of pace from the craziness of this past week. “I just spent so long trying to make it perfect since we finally had a night without any distractions. I even went out of my way to get a ring so I could do it the way you mortals in this part of the world do it…” he trails off, looking up with eyes widening as realization of his admission hits him. 

You drop your head down, resting the top on his chest. “You were going to propose. That’s why, ah…” You tilt your head back and smile. “That’s why not only did you actually legitimately cook for once without magic but you were also legitimately upset. Well… I’m free now.”

Loki frowns. “Aren’t proposals supposed to be romantic and special?”

You shake your head. “I’m an agent that works for an organization that ranges from completely covert operations to straight up public as hell. Special I appreciate. Romantic is sort of no longer in my vocabulary. Where’s the ring?”

“Why would I tell you?”

“Where’s the ring?”

Loki sighs, releasing his right hand and conjuring a small velvet green box in a flash of green. Your fingers unthread from his left, allowing you to pluck the box from his hand and open it. Inside sits a thin gold band complete with an inset of three gems: one emerald in the center, larger than the two diamonds on the outside of it. You pick it up from the box. It’s simple and pretty and definitely going to need to go on a necklace or be left behind for field missions. Regardless, you slide it onto your left ring finger and toss the box back to Loki who catches it, but barely.

You shrug. “There, all done.” 

“Is that you saying yes?” 

“That’s me saying yes. I hope you got yourself a matching one because we are both very officially off the market, not just me. Oh! I got you something while I was gone to make up for missing our dinner...” you dig around in your jacket, fishing inside both pockets until you find the paper. “Here we go.” 

Loki peers at skeptically as he grabs it. It’s folded and worn due to it being stuck in there for a good three days and definitely suspicious. 

“You read that, I’m going to eat something. Sam has horrible taste and I was stuck with them for a whole damn week.” 

Loki sits down on the couch as you walk over to the kitchen. A giant perk of Loki’s magic is how he extends the expiration date of food so everything he cooked from dinner last week is still perfectly preserved and just needs to be warmed up. You grab out the container full of his signature Alfredo bowtie pasta and reach for a fork in the drawer beside the fridge, closing both with ease. Post-mission flexibility is a real thing. 

You hop up onto the counter facing the couch and pry open the container. The smell wafts up to you. Butter, milk, cheese and gooey goodness is so much better than Sam’s combo of fast-food and healthy breakfast cereals. Your eyes flutter shut to take a moment just to appreciate how much better your fiancé’s cooking is compared to whatever Sam tried to poison you with. 

“Is this what I think it is?” Loki asks. 

“Well...” you begin, taking a forkful of pasta. “I have no idea what you think it is. If you think it’s an official document providing both of us three months leave then yes, it’s what you think it is.” 

“Is this really going to do anything? They promised you a night off and we saw how that went.” 

“That isn’t a ‘we promise we will leave you alone’ text,” you explain through your bite of pasta, “that’s a ‘we cannot contact you even if the world is going to end’ document. For three months. So whatever you want to do we can do for three months.” 

Loki tosses the paper onto the coffee table and stands. You watch as he walks towards you, still mostly focused on eating. No more bird food. It’s as he nears the counter do you finally notice his sparkling predatory gaze - the one he uses when he has an idea that is likely not the best but always ends up being interesting nonetheless. 

His arm wraps around your waist and tugs you to the edge of the counter, eyes staring lustfully down at you.

“Three months, huh?” 

“Plenty of time to elope. We could hop on a plane tonight if you’d like.” 

He grabs the container of pasta and places it beside you. “Or a three month vacation of the world, maybe even the galaxy. Explore it all.” Loki presses a soft kiss to your neck just below your left ear. 

You shudder slightly. “I don’t know about the galaxy, but the world does sound nice.” 

“The world it is then,” he murmurs against your lips. “But I think I want take some time re-exploring you tonight.” 

His lips finally capture yours in a deep, slow kiss. He grabs your arms with his right hand, pushing the wrists together and slowly pulling them up over your head. His left hand remains on your waist, squeezing it hard as the kiss intensifies. 

If this is how every ruined proposal is going to end, maybe you’ll keep ruining them.