So... hey. I know, I am the worst human being ever. But 108 reads?! Like seriously guys, thanks a bunch, i love you all so much! Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this imagine! Filled with Lokiness, as always ;)

PS- Maura is the female version of the Italian name Mauro, which means 'dark'. It's kind of ironical really, comment if you figure out how ;)

Eighteen year old Maura Adams knew that reading fanfictions about her favourite Norse god when alone at home, with the wind howling creepily was not a good idea. So obviously, she did not listen to her inner voice of reason, and proceeded to open Wattpad.

After a couple of minutes, she had curled up and pressed herself against the bed, staring at the ceiling fearfully, trying to control her paranoid mind.

"What if the Gods are watching me right now? Oh my god it would be so embarrassing..." she muttered to herself, before shaking her head slightly.

"Honestly Maura, gods do not exist, it's all fiction! Use your brain woman", she chided herself, before letting out a chuckle," Wow, I'm talking to myself now... I really must be losing my mind..."

Setting her laptop down, she closed her eyes for a minute, and before she knew, she had fallen asleep.

*** *** *** ***

"I sense your emotions, my Prince." Heimdall said, not moving an inch.

Loki gritted his teeth in annoyance, not liking the fact that the Guardian of the Bifrost could sense his turmoil.

"I have come, as you asked me to. Does that not satisfy you? Am I to pay fool; to entertain you before you decide to start talking about matters worthy of my attention?"

Heimdall's lips twitched at God's sarcasm, but he replied nonetheless, only a faint trace of humor to be found in his voice.

"That would be unnecessary, Prince Loki. I see a mortal-" Heimdall began, only to be cut off by the Fallen Prince.

"You must know that I have no interest in those petty Midgaurdians Heimdall, or has it conveniently slipped your notice that a hundred mortal years ago; give or take a few; I had attempted to take over Midgard?"

Heimdall looked at Loki, his golden eyes shining more brightly than usual; a sure sign of his anger and annoyance.

"I am aware of that, my Prince. However, you will want to know about this mortal. She is unlike the rest; I sense a certain light in her soul; an energy opposite to the darkness of your soul."

Loki scoffed, hiding his vulnerability quite well as he spoke, "And what must I do, taint her soul? Tarnish it with the horrors of mine? I never took you to be the kind of god with a twisted mind."

Heimdall barely twitched as he continued. "On the contrary, Prince Loki, I feel that this encounter will prove to be beneficial for the mortal."

Loki raised a brow. "And what will I gain out of this? I am not a charitable god, you of all people must know that."

Heimdall looked at Loki smugly. "If you are willing to visit this mortal, I might speak to the Allfather to allow you a... slave"

Loki smirked mischievously as he understood what Heimdall was attempting to say. "I must admit, you are quite persuasive, Son of Nine mothers. I shall accept your offer, now take me to this pathetic mortal girl."

Ignoring Loki's jib, Heimdall smiled to himself and complied. After meeting that mortal, he was sure, that Loki would never even dream of having a slave.

*** *** *** ***

A long column of light, which seemed to gentle to be lightning, appeared on the deserted streets, as man wearing a black suit stepped out of it. Lightning flashed lit up the sky, and thunder roared across the vicinity. The man was least perturbed.

"Upset that I am on your territory, brother?" The man said, spitting out the word 'brother' as though it left a horrid taste in his mouth, which it did. Or so he thought.

The man walked up to a lonely house at the end of the street, disappearing from the street and reappearing in the house with a sudden green light. With the agility of a murderer; which he was considered to be; he crept up the stairs and slowly opened the bedroom door.

The first thing he noticed was a lump on the bed, which he assumed was the person he was looking for. Next to her, was what the mortals called a 'laptop'. Letting his curiosity get the better of him, he placed his hand on the keyboard. A soft green glow lit up the room, before the screen sprang back to life.

The man scrolled down the page, slightly disturbed, yet fascinated by the contents of the page. He turned his gaze back to the sleeping girl, his face twisted into a smirk as he observed her.

"You will get what you asked for, girl."

He knelt by her bed and touched her cheek gently, ignoring the sudden rush of tingles that raced up his arm, brushing them of as the positive energy Heimdall told him about, and muttered something under his breath, before standing up to lean against the wall beside her bedside lamp.

He smirked roguishly, watching her squirm and toss in her sleep, clenching the sheets as a look of confusion marked her face.

*** *** *** ***

He smirked at her, his mischievous eyes twinkling like emeralds in the darkness of the night. He strode forward proudly, like a predator who had caught his first prey, savoring the odd combination of fear and lust emanating from the petite, innocent girl in front of him.

"I will do whatever it takes to have you", he whispered, his minty breath fanning her face as he trapped her between himself and the wall.

"I.... erm- what?" She squeaked out, feeling like a caged animal as she shrunk back, pressing herself against the wall in order to put more space between herself and the green eyed man in front of her.

"I will take you", he purred, smirking delinquently as he pressed his mouth against her ear, his hair tickling her cheek. "Slowly and intimately, then roughly and passionately, leaving you begging for more, I will explore your body, and exploit your deepest, darkest desires, those urges which you have suppressed for a long, long time."

"I will make you lose control, and have you begging at my feet for more, willing to do anything and everything to please me, so as to satisfy your own hunger. I will render you weak and helpless, squirming like the mewling quim you are."

Maura shuddered as she felt the cool of his body leave hers, gasping as he roughly tilted the back of her neck and brought her lips up to his in a-

Maura let out a shriek as she fell of the bed, shivering from the dream as well as the cold floor. She fumbled around as she tried to reach the lamp to switch it on, shaking and refusing to let herself cry from confusion and frustration.

As her fingers reached the switch, she felt something soft touch her hand instead, sending jolts up her arm, making her withdraw it quickly. Grabbing the bed, she stood up quickly, before freezing when she her frantic gaze fell upon her mirror.

In the mirror were the same emerald eyes she had seen in her dream. And they were right behind her. Maura let out a panicked shriek as she attempted to run, only to have a strong hand grab her bicep roughly and whirl her around. She hit something, which she assumed was the mystery man's chest, and before she could scream, a masculine hand covered her mouth.

Emerald eyes bore into hers, as an erotic voice resounded in the room.

"Should you dare to scream, I will make sure that the only name you will e screaming for the rest of your pathetic life will be mine."

Maura's eyes widened to the size of saucer plates as she let out a muffled gasp, before nodding her head quickly. The man smirked, before moving further into her personal space.

"Good girl."

Maura stepped back and grabbed his shoulders to push him away, only to have him grasp her hands in a tight grip, moving impossibly close to her. Tripping over her own feet in a nervous attempt to get away from him, she fell on her bed, attempting to crawl back.

The man all but forced her to lay down as he straddled her and pinned her hands at the side of her face. Maura was panicking a lot now, and gathering the scattered pieces of her courage, she spoke to him, trying not to appear nosy. Even in this situation her manners were not forgotten.

"Who are you, and are you responsible for that... dream?" She blushed profusely, her nose scrunching up slightly. "If yes, then why? Why are you here?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "Curiosity killed the cat, is that not a popular saying among you mortals?"

Maura gulped, trying to ignore the fact that he had said 'mortal'. Feeling a sudden spark of courage, she talked back, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"A cat has nine lives."

The man grinned sardonically. "I might just keep you. And to answer your question, I am Loki, the one you Midgaurdians call 'The Fallen Prince'. You were; however; aware of that, were you not?"

The little courage that had accumulated in aura's heart now dispersed, as her eyes widened with confusion, regarding the situation and her feelings.

"What do you want from me", she mumbled, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"You might not like the answer to that", Loki responded; quite ironically; with the truth.

Maura whimpered as she struggled against his harsh grip, trying to free herself.

"Please stop, it hurts."

Loki looked at her, an unrecognizable emotion clouding his eyes as he let go of her hands, still straddling her as he caressed her cheek. Maura unconsciously leaned into his touch, liking the feeling of his cool arms against her skin. She almost protested when she felt him get off the bed, propping herself up on her elbows as she looked at the Trickster God shyly.

Loki stared out of the window, running a hand through his hair, cursing Heimdall in his mind. That sneaky idiot had known all this time, that he would develop feelings for the mortal. Loki growled under his breath, before storming towards the door.

"W- wait!" Maura called out, running down the stairs, and following him outside, ignoring the howling winds and flashing skies.

By the time she had caught up with him, both were soaked to the bone. In a moment of desperation, she called out his name.

"LOKI!"

Said god froze, before slowly turning around, drinking in the sight of a soaking wet Maura.

"Will I ever see you again?" She asked in a small voice.

And then Loki lost his last bit of self control. He brisk walked towards her and caught her face in his large hands, kissing her felinely, making her toes curl. Hoping that he hadn't scared her with his sudden show of feelings and possessiveness, he rested his forehead against hers, smiling for the first time in a hundred years when he saw her dazed yet blissful expression.

"You should have known love; I never leave behind what is mine."

So... yeah... I hope you guys like it! And as I said before, please comment if you understood the irony I was speaking of at the beginning of the chapter! Please vote and comment :) Also, if you guys have read the new Rick Riordan book, Sword of SUmmer, please comment!

PS- That is a picture of what our favorite Norse God looks like in this imagine ;)

All the love,

Kit_Kat

xxx