too much is never enough🏘36/end
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; physical violence and abuse, mental abuse, parent on child abuse, manipulation/grooming behaviour, predatory but subtle, best friend’s dad trope; shameless Loki
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features dilf!silverfox!Thor (and possibly Loki later on). Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Synopsis: your return home for the summer after your first year of college to find that little has changed or gotten better in your fractured family.
Note: Friday! Yay. So I know you’re freaking out that it says end above but the rest of this story will be told in epilogues as this chapter will cap off our main storyline with the wedding. Hold onto your panties.
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 night was a harbinger of the day. After more than an hour trying not to fidget, you were prepped and preened for your special day, however it felt more dire than anything. Frigga, Jenessa, and Theresa left you to have their make-up attended to while the latter complained of her daughter’s absence. Hela was to be a part of your wedding party as well but was uninterested in being touched up by the hired help. You felt the same but had little choice in the matter.
You stared at your reflection in the mirror in the backroom of the immense church. You could still hear the last-minute preparations in the main hall and Frigga preaching from her make-up chair. You stood and undressed, carefully piecing together the lingerie that was delivered along with your gown, the lace came with a card denoting Loki’s hand in its selection.
You managed to hook and lace the boned corset and shimmied into the scant panties. You fiddled with the garters until you figured them out and sat to roll the stocking carefully up your legs. You felt like a sausage stuffed into its casing as the rigid skeleton of the bodice dug into your waist. You stood and wiggled your feet into your heels, bending to help push your heels inside.
The door opened and you looked over in shock, crossing your arms over your chest as you straightened up. You faced Loki as he closed the door gently behind him and his eyes roved up and down your body. He poked out his tongue as he smirked.
“Good, you’re not dressed,” he purred as he strode over to you, finely clothed in a pristine tuxedo.
“Should you be here?” you frowned as you tried to look past him.
“Perhaps not but when do I ever do what I should,” he closed in and traced his fingertips along the lace stretched across your torso, “besides, so long as I don’t see the dress I think we’ll survive.”
“You should go,” you grabbed his hands and tried to shove him away, “I’m tired and I’ll be lucky not to sleep through the vows. Thanks to you.”
“I’ll be quick,” he said as he reached around you and groped your ass, “come on…”
“Loki,” you slapped his chest, “as if this morning--”
“This morning was nothing close to what I’m going to do tonight,” he pulled your against him and squeezed your hips, “and tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that.”
“I don’t have the energy for this,” you argued, “your mother will be back any moment.”
“Let me do the work,” he insisted and gripped your firmly, spinning you to the face the mirror, “I’ll be certain not to muss this.”
He ran his finger up the back of your bodice and curled his fingers around your shoulders. He bent you over and you caught yourself against the bench. He pulled a hand back to slap your ass and tugged down your panties with a single finger, just past your thighs as he wiggled against you.
“Loki--” you growled as you looked at him in the mirror.
“My beautiful bride,” he hooked his fingers into the top of the bodice as his other hand fumbled with his trousers, “try not to be loud. This is a holy place.”
You reached back and pushed on his vested stomach as he angled between your legs and leaned in. He bent his knees as he felt around and found your entrance. He jerked his hips so you were thrust onto your toes and you groaned. He bent over you and covered your mouth.
“Shhh,” he hushed as he began to rock, the bench shaking as he watched your reflection, “mmmmm, look how gorgeous you are, darling.”
You murmured into his palm as your lashes batted. You gritted your teeth thinking that you would have to have all the hard work redone as your lips smeared behind his hand. He rolled his hips cloyingly and you grasped his wrist as you tried to uncover your mouth to ward him off.
He sapped your strength as he sped up and your walls clenched him hungrily. You shuddered as he pushed his other hand between your legs and played with your clit as he pulled you up with him. Your back arched to accommodate his deep strokes and the clap of flesh mingled with the rustle of fabric caught between your legs.
“Almost there, darling,” he huffed against the your scalp.
You quivered around him as you came first and he followed in quick succession, pulling out to spill into his hand. You fell forward as he released you and turned to watch him grimace at his slimy hand. He went to the sink and rinsed off as you grabbed a tissue and wiped yourself off. You pulled up your panties as he fixed his pants.
“Well, then,” he cleared his throat, “until we tie this tangled knot.”
He checked himself in the mirror and winked before he left you as quickly as he’d appeared. You sighed and shook your head. You had little hope that he would leave it at that.
The organ began to thrum and you stood anxiously awaiting your turn, watching the wedding part depart in pairs from behind the curtain. Odin stood at your side and gave you silent comfort as you swayed on your tired legs. You weren’t quite sure you would make it down the aisle as Loki’s attentions lingered in your muscles.
The tune changed suddenly and your ears perked at your cue. Odin offered his arm and you took it as you gulped up one last breath behind your veil. He caressed your hand softly and leaned in before he took the first step.
“You will do just wonderful, sweetheart,” he said, “my son does not deserve a creature as beautiful as you.”
You smiled and as you let him guide you forward. He turned his gaze ahead and you mimicked him. You felt jittery and your jaw chattered as you came out into the hall and the pews flanked you imminently. You clung to Odin, never acquainted much with being the star of the show, and counted your steps to keep from running away.
As you neared the altar, Odin stopped you and bowed his head as patted your hand.
“You must face this alone,” he girded quietly, “my lovely daughter.”
Your nose tingled with unexpected emotion and you dipped your head before letting him go. You lifted an ivory heel and your toe caught the first step to the altar. There was a gasp as you tripped but quickly righted yourself and smooth the front of your dress, the draped sleeves bouncing against your arms as you chest bobbled against the tight bodice.
You grasped your bouquet with one hand and stepped up to face Loki. The officiant waited patiently as your warden stepped forward to lift your veil and let it fall back behind your head. Loki smiled as his eyes crawled down your dress and he let his hand fall to your skirt as he pinched the fabric, recoiling as he recalled himself. He looked down at his feet and gave a cheeky smile as he clasped his hands together.
The music halted and you let out your breath as the officiant began his dull recital. Loki watched you and you tried not to be bothered by his goofy smile. The delusion on display was more than you were prepared for.
You swallowed and looked to the chaplain. You would rather distract yourself with his words than acknowledge the cruel reality stood across from you.
You brushed the confetti off your bare shoulder as you swiped up the tain of your skirt into the car. Loki fell in beside you as the door closed and you reclined against the white leather with a huff. The screen between you and the front seat provided a much-need moment of privacy.
“Jesus,” you yawned as you rubbed your neck, “how long do we have to stay at the reception?”
“Are you so eager?” he mused as he bent to kiss your shoulder and clawed at your skirt.
“And you, you’re not making this any easier,” you said as you tried to swat away his groping.
“Oh, I never liked easy,” he grabbed your thigh and pulled you so you fell across the seat. He climbed up between your legs as he pushed through the layers of your skirt while you tried to shove them back down, “you’re tense, you should relax. We have a long night ahead of us.”
He hooked his arms around your thighs and yanked you against him. You reached up to grasp at the door handle and he bent over you, his long fingers rubbing the front of your panties. You felt the lace grow wet so quickly you bit your knuckle and moaned. How did he manage to coax you when you were drained to the core?
“I believe a marriage must be consummated as soon as possible,” he slid into you as your leg was crushed between him and the seat, the other hanging off the edge.
“Goddamn,” you groaned as you latched on his lapels, “I hate you!”
“Oh, darling, what is marriage but mutual loathing,” he snarled as he gripped your thigh and pulled your legs against him, “with a healthy dose of fucking.”
“Shit,” you pushed your hand between your bodies and rubbed your clit as he impaled you over and over, “fuck.”
You kept one hand on his suit and the other on your cunt as he rammed into you, his feet hitting the window of the car. You were rocked slightly by the motion of the car as your moans rippled in the air. Your orgasm had you wrapping your legs around Loki’s and writhing.
He slowed and your hand stilled as it was trapped under his weight. He marveled down at you as he tickled your cheek with his fingertips.
“You’ve changed,” he said, “you know that, don’t you?”
“You haven’t,” you hissed as you tore your hand from between your legs, “now get off me and try not to ruin my dress.”
“Why? I paid for it?” he snickered and carefully slid out of you, scooping up the mess with his hand, “I will buy you many more, should you wish it.”
“Don’t start acting like you care what I want now,” you took the ridiculous blue handkerchief from your bodice, the superstitious accessory tucked their by your mother-in-law, and wiped your cunt before you could leak onto your panties.
“As soon as you stop acting like you don’t want me, pet,” he dirtied his kerchief with his cum as sat up, “your body betrays your lies.”
The speeches were no less unbearable as Loki’s hand explored your lap throughout. He kept a smooth veneer as he listened and when it was his turn to speak, he did so with lies so smooth you almost believe them yourself. You played your part as well as you could as the tingle arose in the absence of his touch.
Aside from the meal, there was little to enjoy about the night. You smiled through encounters with people you regarded as little more than strangers or tolerant enemies. You were only spared Thor’s presence as Loki was wise enough to know it would go no better than the rehearsal. Furthermore, you were uncertain if he had even emerged from his arrest.
And when you thought it couldn’t get worse, a strange and dreaded ritual was announced for the guests to witness. You were sat in a chair as Loki was blind-folded and your audience gathered with giggles and lewd comments. You shook your head, your protests unheeded as you were faced with public humiliation.
Loki got to his knees and kept his hands behind his back. His jacket was gone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows beneath his unbuttoned jacket. You shifted in the chair as Odin lifted your skirt over his son’s head and stepped back to let it drape over him. You squirmed as his lips met your knees.
His goal was to take your garter off with his teeth but you expected he was not impatient to do so. He preferred to win in his own time. His teeth grazed your flesh and you clenched your jaw as he got further up. He pushed his face between your legs and his hot breath nipped at your panties as it seeped through the lace.
You tried to close your legs around his head and he sank his teeth into the tenderness of your thigh. You cried out and bounced on the chair in surprise as the guests laughed and a whistle came from the din. You covered your face and pressed your feet behind the legs of the chair as you held in another yelp.
Loki nuzzled the crotch of your pants and you growled under your breath for him to hurry up as you smacked his head through the length of your skirt. He chuckled and his nose trailed down as he bit onto the frilly garter. He slowly dragged it back and slipped free of your skirts, his hair messy as he flipped it back and presented his prize.
He pulled the blindfold down to hang against his bowtie and took the garter from his mouth. He spun it around his finger and shoved it into his pocket. You stood and rolled your eyes at him.
“I need cake,” you said as he met your derision with delighted amusement.
The icing smeared between your lips as Loki smothered you with a kiss. The crowd cheered as your playful, if not spiteful, crash of spongy cake and cream into his face was met with his quick retort. You parted from him and tried to wipe away the mess. He dragged two fingers through the icing on his cheek and sucked it off with a suggestive look.
The DJ called the crowd back to the floor as the final act of cutting the cake was complete. You sneered at Loki as the bodies, mostly drunken or at least distracted by the pumping bass, headed back to dance. Loki pulled his fingers out and licked his lips. You snarled as the sparks flew from your core.
“You think you’re funny,” you challenged as grab his bowtie and he bends slightly, letting you. You know that he could easily resist, “I can play your games, old man.”
“What do you mean?” he sputtered with coy innocence.
You dragged him past the long table and out the door just off the corner of the couples’ table. You led him without direction down the hall and opened the first door you found. You hauled him inside and pushed him against the door as it shut behind him. You covered his mouth just as he had earlier, your fingers clamped over his goading lips.
“Don’t say shit,” you hissed, “and get your pants undone.”
His lashes flicked in surprise but he frantically obeyed. You don’t know what’s gotten into you, maybe it’s the stress, maybe it’s old habits, maybe you really are pathetic. He pushed his trousers down his hips and you yanked them past his thigh. You kept your hand over his mouth and pulled at your skirts, bringing your leg up to hold the fabric at your waist as you planted your foot against the door.
You bent your leg over his hip as you urged him down and he bent his knees. You grabbed his dick and poke it between your legs. You were on your toes as you sank onto him, with him awkwardly crouched against the door. His hand stretched across your ass and his other explored your bodice.
You saw the triumphant glint in his eyes as you fucked him furiously. You dropped your hand to his throat and squeezed as you rocked on one leg. He scooped you up and led you up and down his length as you grew ravenous, choking him until he rasped.
“You’re such a smug fucking asshole,” you gasped as you rode him, “you ruined my fucking life.”
“Mmm,” he purred as you grip his shoulder. Your lip curled as he smirked through shallow breaths.
“I didn’t change,” you huffed as your bodies shook the door, “I learned from your dumbass.”
He croaked as you tightened your grip. You felt the power you held in your hands, in your body, and you wrangled it just as you did him. If you couldn’t love him, you would get what you needed from him. You only had to use him like he used you.
A union of discord, but a union nonetheless. For better or worse, til death.
114 notes · View notes