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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years ago

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too much is never enough: Epilogue 5

Epilogue: Husband and Wife

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; physical violence and abuse, mental abuse, parent on child abuse, manipulation/grooming behaviour; as a continuation to the main storyline all former warnings apply but I will do my best to keep them relevant with each chapter as well; pregnancy, hormones, alcohol.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features mainly silverfox!(simp)Loki and a little bit of angry dark!dilf!Thor. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: you live a life of luxury with your new husband but it’s hardly enough to buy you happiness.

Note: Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya.

The handle jiggled first and then the thump came steady as Loki called through the door.

"Darling, open the door," he demanded.

You got up from your hibernation and crossed the room, "your things are in the guest room."

"Oh, do not be so stubborn, just open the door," he sighed, "I've had a long day."

"Funny, I've had a long five months," you crossed your arms and leaned against the door as it shook.

"I've married a mad woman," he snarled in exasperation, "damn you."

"As I recall, it wasn't my choice," you spat back.

"Sir," Reynard said calmingly from the hallway, "I've had your room prepared."

"What are you-- you've been conspiring with her over this?" Loki hissed.

"Sir, I've only been doing my duty," Reynard countered dully, "the lady is in no state to be stressed. It is not good for the child."

"It is my child," Loki exclaimed, "you needn't tell me what's best."

"To be fair, sir, you've not exactly much knowledge on the matter," Reynard said, "I do recall you let your young niece play with a pocket knife at no more than four."

"That was years ago," Loki snipped, "I haven't the energy for this. Darling," he hit the door so it jolted your body, "perhaps you should get some sleep and clear your mind so that we may discuss this tomorrow."

"Perhaps," you said sharply and backed away from the door, "doubtful," you mumbled under your breath.

You listened to the footsteps retreat in the hallway as Reynard guided Loki away and you let out a breath. It made you smile to know you won, at least for now. This whole marriage thing wasn't so bad if it meant you could torment your husband in turn.

💍

The next day, you kept your isolation in the master bedroom. Loki returned and met the same barricade and an equally as steadfast Reynard. The butler brought you your meals and offered anything you needed. That continued for several days.

On the fourth day of your return, you sat with Reynard by the window as he fluttered through the pages of the baby book. Your phone buzzed steadily with Jenessa's bored texts from her midday lecture. The scent of leaves flowed in past the window frame as you opened it to relieve the sweating spells that came more often.

"Oliver? O names are unique, Olivia for a girl?" Reynard suggested. "Named for the olive tree, a symbol of peace. It has a Norse meaning of 'ancestor's descendant'."

"My last hope if that the kid is anything like its ancestors," you scoffed as you typed back to Jenessa, "I dunno, I'll wait until I know the sex."

"Fair," he said but continued to flip through, "we should arrange a trip to the boutique for what you will need for the nursery and create a registry for the shower."

"Jesus, please, I don't need to think of that heart attack right now," you huffed as an unknown number popped up and you clicked too fast thinking it was Jenessa.

'I won't stop.' The text read and you frowned, a twisting feeling in your stomach. Another came, 'I've been thinking of you all night.' A third followed, a video that loaded to reveal a familiar hand around a thick dick, stroking as you thanked your own sense to keep your phone muted.

You blocked the convo and turned your phone over. You had to change your number or Thor would just keep it up. Blocking him only made him more persistent and it wasn't the first message since your disastrous trip, you just had enough to keep you distracted from his ever lurking shadow.

"Madame, are you feeling unwell?" Reynard asked.

You rubbed your forehead and sat back, "no, but I haven't been well in a while."

"You do deal with much," he agreed, "and gracefully so."

"You're a good liar," you chuckled, "I don't know if I can keep this up."

"Well, you can always speak with the master," he intoned.

"That's not… everything," you dropped your hands to your stomach in the unthinking habit, "but eventually I know I have to. It's just… I don't want to be… I don't know. You know him, you know he only cares for one person."

"Perhaps I would've agreed months ago on that matter," Reynard said, "but he hasn't much regard for himself as late. You must realise it, how he comes to your door and begs."

"You mean demands like a whiny child," you crossed your arms, "I can't handle two of those."

"Truly, madam," Reynard insisted, "I did call a doctor to tend his hand the second night in the guest room. It was a concerning sight, swollen and the like. He was so stubborn as to try to turn the man away but I made him sit for the stitches."

"Stitches?" You echoed and remembered the dark bruises on his hand after his assault on Thor.

As nice as it was for him to defend you, it still felt more an act for his ego and another strike in the long-standing rivalry. Still, it set a twinge in your chest to think it was that bad.

"He is healing now, his knuckle was only split to the bone and required closure to prevent infection," Reynard explained, "but the master is as stubborn as you and shooed me away just as quickly."

"Ah," you pursed your lips, "I'm sure he'll be fine then."

"Well madam, if I must admit," he closed the book and stood, "he is far from fine and it might satisfy your need for his suffering to know that your punishment has been effective."

"It doesn't," you said coolly, "I don't think anything can ever make me happy again."

"I'm sorry to hear it," he replied, "but as always, whatever you require, I will attain for you."

"Thank you," you rubbed your arms as the chill turned bitter as it flowed past the window pane, "and… keep an eye on his hand. You're right, he's stubborn."

💍

You emerged from your hermitage not long after your chat with Reynard. The house was quiet, not that it was unusual. It was so big, it felt terribly empty and with the cooler weather, an eerie tint was cast over the polished floor and tall ceilings. You ventured down to seek out a snack in the kitchen and left your phone on the counter as you went about your mission.

You took out a box of chocolate chip cookies and put on the kettle. You were craving hot chocolate, but to be fair, you were craving about a dozen different things. You left the stove to boil and dipped into the bathroom to relieve your increasingly agitated bladder. The worst of it was that every time you got comfortable, you got that needful urge to pee.

You mulled over what to do next as you washed your hands. Maybe you should let Loki in and at least try to talk. You worried that now he was just as mad at you and he wouldn’t want to talk. You were still angry as hell at him, at what he forced you into and how he lorded it over you like it was some favour, but you knew that this couldn’t last.

You were tired and your fatigue was only growing by the day with the baby. You felt even bigger than the week before and reality poked out more and more obviously beneath your shirt. Much of your wardrobe was uncomfortably tight and so you either opted for the looser dress, that sat oddly around your middle or the few blouses that hugged you unflatteringly.

As you came back to the kitchen, you stopped so fast, your feet almost slipped out from under you. You grabbed onto the door frame to keep from falling and cleared your throat. Loki raised his head and put down your cell phone. He faced you guiltily. So much for making up.

“Are you serious?” you sneered as you crossed to him and snatched your cell, “now you’re snooping in my phone?”

“Darling, I am only concerned,” he reached for you and you pushed away his arm, “since you will not tell me what I’ve done, I must figure it out on my own.”

“Bullshit, that’s so fucking rich,” you edged away from him, “do you realise how backwards that is? Violating my privacy?”

“I think it is a means to an end,” he said tersely, “since you insist on drawing this out. If you would be an adult and tell me what bothers you, I wouldn’t need to intrude.”

“Adult? You do remember you married a fucking teenager, right?” you snorted, “fuck, you are infuriating.”

“And you are no doubt hormonal,” he rebuffed, “now, I’ve uncovered your displeasure and I can assure you it is based on false assumptions.”

“Oh, shut up,” you scowled.

“Darling, please, let me talk,” he said, “you think you are a commodity to me and that is simply untrue. Perhaps it once was but not anymore. You are my wife and I believe I have tried to be a decent husband.”

“Why? Because you so bravely defended me from the monster you created?” you rolled your eyes.

��My brother has ever been a brute, I do regret now my part in provoking him, but do not blame me for his delusions,” he huffed, “and on that subject, you did not inform he made contact.”

“What do you mean?”

“The messages, darling, I can assume the unknown number sending such lewd words is him,” Loki said, “you know it is dangerous to keep that to yourself.”

“Alright, look,” your nostrils flared as your anger piqued, “you’re not my father so don’t act like it. I’d rather not bring those issues into this shit show. And if you thought nosing through my private conversations was some act of valiant concern, you’re more fucked up than I thought.”

“You are deaf as a bat, darling,” he threw his hands up, “will you not hear what I am trying to tell you? I am sorry. So very deeply sorry.”

“No,” you shook your head and stormed to the door, spinning back to snarl at him, “you are just a horny old man trying to find the words to get his dick wet. That’s all this has ever been. Well, Loki Odinson, go fuck yourself.”

You turned and scurried to the stairs, puffing your way up as you clung to the bannister. As you reached the top, the kettle began to whistle and you mourned your forgotten cocoa and cookies. It hardly mattered, your appetite had soured to nausea.

💍

You fell asleep with a headache and didn’t rest long. Uneasy, uncomfortable, and unsatisfied, you woke with a grumble as you were disturbed by an unexpected holler. You sat up and stared at the door as it wiggled in the frame, the lock holding up against another nightly barrage.

“Darlingggggg,” the word drew out, “please, please, please, I’m soooo sorry.”

You tilted your head as Loki’s words slurred. You could tell he was drunk and you had never encountered him in such a state. He tapped on the door more gently as his shadow darkened the space beneath and hummed.

“Please, don’t be mad at me,” he pleaded through the crack, “please, I can’t stand it anymore.”

You said nothing as his weight slid down the door and his soles scraped on the floor. He harrumphed as leaned heavily on the door and you shimmied to the end of the bed. Your unexpected awakening had your head in a spin and his drunken behaviour added to your confusion.

“My wife,” he babbled from the hallway, “my sweet, lovely, adorable, wife! Please, do not cast me out like this!”

“Loki, you’re drunk, go lay down,” you called out as you stood and slowly approached the door.

“You’re awake! Oh, my darling, my pet, my precious! Please, forgive me and I will ever be yours, please,” he carried on in a frantic tone, “I will do anything. I’m on me knees-- well, I’m sitting on the floor but it’s because I’m dizzy and…” he hiccuped, “and I need you.”

“Loki, where’s Reynard?”

“I locked him out!” he snapped, “the pest is too involved! This is between us.”

“You’re not coming in so go away, you can sleep on the floor for all I care,” you hissed.

“For you, I would,” he said.

You almost laughed. You leaned your shoulder on the door as you tried to see him through crack. He hummed and you heard his shoe tapping. You listened curiously as his deep voice rose and reverberated from the high ceilings.

“Those fingers in my hair, that sly come hither stare, that strips my conscience bare,” he sang and you closed your eyes as you cringed, “it's Witchcraft.” His toe kept tapping and you let out a sigh, “And I've got no defense for it, the heat is too intense for it, what good would common sense for it doooooo?”

“Loki, stop,” you said, “go--”

“'Cause it's Witchcraft,” he continued his ballad and the tune plucked at your mind, “wicked Witchcraft, and although I know it's strictly taboo.”

You realised as your lashes flicked open that it was a song you heard before. It played for your first dance at your wedding, that torturous charade. You tutted but didn’t interrupt as his deep timbre seeped through the wood.

“When you arouse the need in me, my heart says yes indeed in me, proceed with what you're leading me too…”

“Loki,” you uttered as his voice trailed off.

“Darling,” he chirped and you felt the doors shift with his weight, “I’m coming in.”

“No, just go--”

“I swear, I will get through these doors,” he announced, “stand back!”

“No, don’t--” The doors moved again and you retreated as you heard his shoes on the floor, “you’ll hurt your--”

A huge bang shook the doors followed by a groan. Another jolt and a weaker grunt as his soles squeaked and he gasped. There was no third try but you were done. He really was going to hurt himself, if he hadn’t already.

You flipped the lock back and opened the door an inch. He was sprawled out on the floor, staring at the ceiling. His tie was gone, his shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his chest, his sleeves rolled up unevenly, and his long legs splayed wide. You let the door fall inward and stepped out to kneel beside him.

“You dummy,” you took his arm, “you’re going to kill yourself. You’re too old to be doing this shit.”

“And you’re too pretty,” he giggled as he let you draw him up and struggled to get his feet under him.

“Don’t make me throw you down the stairs and finish the job,” you warned as you angled him through the door.

“You forgive me?” he murmured as you strained beneath his weight and dropped him onto the mattress. He fell onto his back so that his legs hung over the side. He cried out and reached for his shoulder.

“Not really,” you said, “I’m just not as mad.”

“Oh,” he pouted, “okay.”

“You stay,” you pointed your finger at him.

“I don’t think I could move if I wanted,” he resigned as he closed his eyes.

You sighed and left him in his half-stupor. You went down the stairs and into the kitchen to fill a ziploc with ice. You sealed the bag and hesitated as you saw a figure through the mosaic glass of the door. You went over to let in Reynard.

“The master threw me out,” he entered with a huff, “did he disturb you?”

“He’s fine, I’m taking care of him,” you held up the ice, “he’s… drank too much.”

“Oh, well, I am here, as always,” he offered.

“Yes, I know, thank you.”

You ascended again and found Loki sat up, his hair shrouding his face in a curtain as he wobbled just slightly. You put the ice on the night table and pushed back his hair. He tilted his head back and smiled at you senselessly.

“You’re back, wife!” he chimed, “my witchy, witchy wife.”

You hushed him and worked at unbuttoning this shirt to the hem and pushed it down his arms. He laughed as he pulled his hands out clumsily.

“Are we… making up?” he whispered, “are we going to… get sexy?”

“No,” you said sternly, “turn.”

You helped him lift his legs onto the bed and sit sideways so you could look at his shoulder. You felt along the blade and the reddening muscle. You raised his arm and he winced and you let it drop back down. You weren’t entirely sure if it was serious but hoped for the best it wasn’t dislocated.

“Here, lay on your other side,” you guided him and he obeyed, albeit not easily. You sat beside him and pressed the ice to his shoulder as you rubbed his arm.

“Is it bad?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you answered, “to be fair, I don’t know what I’m doing at all.”

“Me neither,” he purred and turned his head, looking at you from the corner of his slitted eyes.

“What?” you glared at him.

“You,” he said, “you’re taking care of me.”

“Mmm,” you hummed and pushed the ice until he flinched.

“Oh, that’s cold,” he whined.

“It’ll help,” you said and withheld a smirk, “show me your hand.” He lifted his hand and you looked it over. Bruised but fading, “looks better.”

“Hurts,” he moped and let it fall.

“Well, you’re too old to be fighting, your brother or the door,” you chided.

He giggled again and reached back blindly to touch your knee, “you’re so nice,” he said.

“Sure,” you sat back against the headboard and kept the ice in place.

“No, really,” he insisted, “you know, I played rugby when I was in school. Rough game but fun. Took a hard hit one match and the school couldn’t get a hold of my mother so I took a taxi to the hospital. Bruised ribs and broken thumb.” He was quiet as he drew his hand away and let it dangle in front of his stomach, “when I got home late, I got a lecture and no dinner. Didn’t even ask about the cast.”

You were quiet, stunned by his unusual candour. You slid down to lay beside him and held the ice against his shoulder, your stomach pressing to his back.

“You should sleep,” you said.

“Next to you, I will, happily,” he returned as he reached over his shoulder with his other arm and squeezed your hand, “I am sorry, even if you don’t believe it.”

“Sleep,” you urged, “it’s too late and you’re too drunk.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #thor #dark thor #dark!thor #too much is never enough #series #fic #sequel #epilogues #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #avengers #au

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