Loki & Tom Oneshots

Imagine: Bringing Loki to a Party

. "Hurry up Loki we're going to be late!" You shout over your shoulder, towards the direction of the bathroom, where within, a certain god of mischief was supposed to be getting dressed up for a dinner party. "I refuse to wear such horrendous midgardian clothing!" You hear the prince's muffled protest from behind the closed door.
"It's called a tuxedo!" You holler back, "Now get a move on before I kick down the door and drag you out!"
A low muttering of Unintelligible words could be faintly heard from within, complaints mostly made in old Norse.
You let out a loud sigh before plopping down upon the couch with a small thud, your fall cushioned by a large mass of pillows.
Loki wasn't too fond of human clothing, he had made that quite clear, but somehow against all odds you had gotten the stubborn god to promise to come along to this dinner party of yours. Unfortunately for Loki, dressing up in a tuxedo was apart of the deal.
Finally. After what seemed to have been an eternity of waiting, an unhappy Loki emerged from the bathroom wearing a black, somewhat tight fitting tux with green lining the inside, with golden cuff links- all his colours of choice, along with a simple pair of black dress pants and shoes. His face was a deep shade of crimson, which you assumed to be from either anger or embarrassment, or very likely, a combination of both. With a sigh of relief, you jumped up to your feet. "FINALLY. I was beginning to wonder if you had fallen into the toilet!" You laugh, despite your lover's deadly glare.

"I look like a common Midgardian."

"Isn't that the point?" You giggle, looking the prince up and down. Damn, you thought, he looked good in that tuxedo.
He smirks mischievously, noticing your wandering eyes. "Does my humiliating attire please you, mortal?"

"Yes you look very... Handsome." You answer, blushing slightly.
"And you, (Y/N) look absolutely ravishing." Loki smiles, taking hold of your hand and raising it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles tenderly, as any well-bred gentleman was expected and taught to do.
The unexpected courtly gesture made your cheeks burn, and the blush upon them deepened drastically.
The sight made the god's smile grow broader than it was before. "Despite your Midgardian choice of dress of course." He quickly adds teasingly.
You roll your (e/c) eyes, and lightly punch him on the shoulder. "C'mon, God of fashion, we're already late."
Glaring at your comment, the God mumbled something around the means of "it's actually mischief, you mortal swine." But he holds his arm out for you just the same. And for that you were greatly thankful, since the heels you were set upon wearing were hard for your clumsy self to walk in.
"Shall we then?" Says Loki, opening the door for the two of you, "The sooner we leave, the sooner I can change out of this horrendous attire."
You simply laugh, shaking your head a little.
"Very well, your highness, let's go."