Match Strike pt. Two (LokixReader)

When you got up to your room you noticed your bag on the floor outside the door, sighing and picking it up.
‘I guess this means find another room…” you rub your head, sighing and glancing around. ‘Looks like I’m in the attic this year…” you trudge up the steps, dropping your bag to the ground by the bed and flopped back onto the mattress. You covered your eyes with your hands as you start to cry. What had happened that made you Stella’s enemy? You were so confused. You jerked as someone sat next to you, peeking through your finger tips and blushed slightly at seeing Loki leaning over you. “Go away.”
“You are my Master; I will not leave your side.” Loki said, pulling your hands from your face and jerked you to sit up.
“Go away! I’m not your master!” you snap, wiping at your eyes and staring to the side. “Just leave me alone, okay?”
“I cannot.”
“Then go sit in the corner and leave me be.” You order, pointing to the far corner of the room.
“I believe I’d best take care of your wound first.” He leaned around you, placing a hand on your chest, smirking as you winced and blushed.
“T-that is none of your concern !” you smack his hand away, turning so your back was to him and pulled the knife form your breasts. “Better hide this…” you sigh, going to put the bloody knife in a drawer when he grabbed your hand and pulled you to him. “L-Loki let go!”
“You found my dagger. I had wondered if anyone noticed it when I popped your tire earlier today.” He smirked, slipping the dagger from your hand and stowed it away.
“W-wait that was you?! You’re the reason we were late?!” you growl.
“Yes, that was me. Although Stella wanted me to destroy your car.” He blinked as you stood.
“Destroy the car?! THAT COULD HAVE KILLED US!”
“I believe that was the point, (Y/n). I chose to rebel a little and just hit a tire.” He smiled gently.
“S-Stella wants my family dead?” you choke, tears stinging your eyes as you paced and kicked random objects along the floor. “Why would she want us dead?”
“It isn’t your family, (Y/n), it’s you she despises.” He spoke softly as you were mid-kick, causing you to strike the heavy wood book case and collapse to the floor.
“FFFFUUUU-?!” you whimper, closing your (e/c) eyes as the tears rolled down your cheeks and held your foot to you. ‘Stella wants me dead? Why?” you think, jerking and opening your eyes as he lifted you into his arms.
“You never knew Stella disliked you?” he asked, some pity in his eyes as you shook your head and sat on the bed with you on his lap.
“We’re best friends… why would she do this…?” you breathe, keeping from crying and wiped your eyes.
“You truly have no clue, do you?” he sighed, slipping his hands under your shirt and winced as you slapped him. “What was that for?!”
“What the hell where you thinking?!” you snapped back, getting off his lap and glared at him.
“Stella had no problem with me doing such things…” he grumbled, a hand to his face were you had hit him.
“Well I’m not Stella! So don’t act like it!” you growl, pulling the hem of your shirt down and turned form him.
“I thought all Midgardian’s where the same about such things?” he raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you all just live for money and sex?”
“No! I live for friends and happiness!” you blushed crimson.
“I see… that’s not what Stella has told me about you. She told me you slept with any man you could.” He stood, moving behind you as you shook your head.
“You’re the god of lies and mischief, who’s telling the truth, me, or her? I’ve never had sex or let anyone lift my shirt.” You growl.
“Hm… I would say Stella…” he breathed in your ear, smirking as you shuddered and put his hands on your hips. “Is lying.” He chuckled slightly, turning you to look at him and lifted your chin. “Allow me to take care of your wound.” He leaned closer, backing you into the wall and smirked.
“I-I-I’ll take care of it myself. You, under no circumstances, are allowed to follow me into the bathroom, got it?” you shove at him.
“Hmph. Fine, but keep the match box with you. I’d rather not become anyone else’s servant.” He slipped the match box into your jean pocket.
“I don’t want you as a servant!” you growl, pulling yourself to your full height and glared at him. You were still short compared to him.
“I am yours, and soon you will be mine. I cannot wait until that moment… oh the fun I will have.” He laughed manically.
“Th-that will never happen! I refuse to use those matches!” you growl, shoving past him and grabbing a shirt form your bag. “Stay out of sight, got it?”
“Yes, Mistress. Please go take of your wound.” He ran a hand across your shoulders as he walked to take a seat on your bed.