A/N:
I meant for the next thing I posted to be a chapter about Karna and Ka-chan. But instead, immediately after posting the previous chapter, I started noodling at this—which is clearly the smuttier second half of the previous chapter. Enjoy.
Olga Marie lay in her bed, staring at the darkened ceiling, and let Avenger move her hands over her body. It was strange and disorienting at first, like looking through two different telescopes at once. As a result, the sensations completely dominated her attention, making it very hard for her to think about anything else. That, he said, was the point. It took a lot of focus and effort to really tear herself to shreds. While Avenger couldn't control her thoughts, he could certainly distract them. She couldn't even fight back.
Keep telling yourself that, princess. Meanwhile, close your eyes, Avenger whispered to her. Sighing, she obeyed, slipping very quickly into a trance state only slightly removed from dreaming. In this state her sensory input did split, into what he felt and what she felt. The hands that massaged her breasts were soft, thin, feminine hands, but at least they weren't her hands making her feel so breathless and excited.
For Olga Marie's sense of decency and self-respect, this was both better and worse. On the one hand, it didn't feel like she was doing this to herself, while the world lay shattered beyond her door. But on the other hand, it meant she was allowing somebody else to touch her like this, over and over and over, while the world lay shattered beyond her door.
The trance wasn't as bad as it could get, either. Sometimes she slipped even further into a dream state and then he was more than a pair of feminine hands. He was present with her, straddling her hips, rubbing his palms over her nipples, grinning like a shark as he played with her. She hated it when that happened, and yet somehow it seemed to happen more and more.
Even now she could feel what she knew rationally to be her own hands roughening and growing into his. Then he was there, his weight on her pelvis. When something warm and wet closed over one of her nipples, her back arched and she swallowed a lewd sound. This was a dream, just a dream, inflicted on her by the wicked spirit possessing her. It wasn't real. She'd wake herself up and get out of bed and go do something—
Nah, not yet, whispered Avenger, which he did very well given that his dream self had her breast in his mouth. She squirmed, rubbing her thighs together under his weight, and tried to move her arms to push him away. But her hands wouldn't move. Somehow he'd pinned them down, and the enforced helplessness only made her squirm more at the intensity of the pleasure being inflicted on her.
She wanted… she wanted, oh she wanted… she wanted him to touch her more. She wanted him to rub her between her legs. She wanted this creature's wicked mouth all over her, leaving wet trails behind. But she wanted to be a good girl, too, the sort who was petted and praised and celebrated. And here he was, making her into a bad one. It was terrifying and delicious and degenerate. She whined in the back of her throat despite her best intentions.
You're so fucking hot, Avenger told her. Why weren't you surrounded by people trying to get into your pants?
"Far… far too busy for that nonsense," Olga Marie mumbled, and then gave a keening squeal as something sharp pinched her nipple. The humiliation of her sound made her skin prickle hotly, and she hunched her shoulders as if to escape it.
In response, he ran his finger tips up her arms, leaving shivers in place of the prickles. Then he dug his fingers into her long hair fanned out around her head, stroking through it with his nails. She shook her head fretfully and he caught her head, held it still so he could kiss each of her eyelids gently.
Gotta say, I'm really enjoying saving you. Good call, me, he told her. His fingers caressed around her ears and then he was licking her lobe as his hands continued down her body, between her breasts and over her stomach.
She wriggled in uncontrollable anticipation, well-spiced with shame and guilt. As his fingers slid between her folds and stroked the core of her heat, excitement transmuted into a silver pleasure that tolled through her like a bell. Once again her spine arched, but she bared her teeth, refusing to let him hear how good it felt.
His wet tongue at her ear was replaced by his teeth and then he snickered. Whatever keeps you going, Marie. But believe me, I know how good this feels.
He moved his fingers in slow circles, indirectly pressing against her clit, and his mouth moved back to her breast again. For what seemed like a long time, he held her there, nearly mindlessly riding the steady ripples of pleasure he elicited.
Ahh, you're falling asleep for real, he said eventually. Time to make sure it's a good one.
Alarm chased away sleepy bliss and once again Olga Marie wriggled, trying to escape what came next. It was useless, as it was always useless. He'd have his way with her and leave her too spent to focus on other forms of self-abuse. But at least it was all a dream. It wasn't real. He was real, no doubt about that, but he didn't have a body, this wasn't happening. It was all a dream.
"This is all a dream," she announced, as calm as ice.
I've been thinking about getting us some toys, he said as his bare feet pushed Olga Marie's ankles apart. You looked at a catalog once, yeah?
The ice shattered. Olga Marie almost wailed in rage and embarrassment, and then found her hands long enough to pound hard at the tattooed chest above her instead. "Human history has been incinerated, you monster!"
Grinning down at her, Avenger lowered himself until his weight pressed her into the bed and something hard nudged between her legs. In her ear he whispered, So you're saying we can probably find a toy somewhere in Chaldea. Something missing its previous owner.
Olga Marie howled as she remembered the flash of light from Lev's bomb, and the faces of all her associates around her. Twenty-seven people had been crowded into the command chamber to witness history. It had been Olga Marie's most hopeful moment, when she let herself momentarily think that she wasn't the world's biggest screw-up.
And Lev Lainur had destroyed it.
Avenger captured her scream in his mouth as he kissed her, keeping anybody else from hearing, worrying, wasting their time. The kiss wasn't real, she knew it wasn't real, but her rage and shame and hurt for herself; her fury and grief for her companions; her hatred for Lev, so violent her body shook… Those were real. Those burned inside her constantly, and she screamed.
As her scream faded, he lifted his mouth, letting her drag in a great gasping breath. As she did, terrifying words rose in her throat: words from a world where you could scream like that and nothing would change. She would gabble about just how awful she was, how weak, how shallow! Because, honest truth? Out of everything Lev hurt, the hurt that drove her the most was to her pride. What drove her forward now, in the wake of cataclysm? Not grief, not justice, not duty, not even hope—
Vengeance, he whispered and thrust his hardness within her.
It slicked in, seeming to fill her, eclipsing her self-hatred and pushing her bad thoughts momentarily off the stage, with a tickle inside her like the thrill of a roller coaster going down.
Yeah, he said, moving a little as if settling in. And yet he was already so deep inside her that Olga Marie felt like every twitch of his hips was wired directly to her spine. She gritted her teeth, impatient for this ridiculous dream to be over.
There we go, he whispered and found just the right place, the place that made Olga Marie bite her lip bloody at the spike of pleasure hammered into her mind.
How's that for real?
Slowly, he began to move his hips, setting up a delicate, pleasant friction between the two of them. It played against her rising grief and hurt and rage, melody to harmony, creating the song of her Servant self. His hot body moved against hers, and against the potent knife of her self-recriminations. The surge of pleasure rippling through her frame was a star against the darkness of shame. She needed them both, especially now. It was the distance between the two that gave a Servant power.
I really like this part, he said. Where I screw you—
"Nail,"said Olga Marie dreamily. "You're nailing me." Her eyes opened and she stared up into his smile. "I really am worthless failure, though."
Totally, he said agreeably, and began to kiss her again, in a much nicer way than before. She was. She was totally worthless. An utter failure. She accepted it. But his kiss felt so good. Not like drive her crazy good, but like hot chocolate on a cold day good. Like the sort of good even a worthless person could enjoy, if someone was kind.
That was his kiss alone. But his hips changed everything. If his kiss was the violin trembling in her ear, the way he fucked her was the pounding pulse of an entire heavy metal band. Together, they swept her away, beyond sight or reason. She lay in the farthest reaches of a field of pleasure, basking for what seemed like ages, and yet—and yet—
so shameful, Olga Marie whispered to herself, after what happened
She tumbled beyond the edge of bliss with a scream that should have changed worlds, a scream her lover swallowed once again.
After which she instantly fell asleep, into that deep sleep where the filing's done, memories are digested and pain is allowed to fade. Meanwhile, he was left to wait, bound by her healing sleep to silence, immobility and boredom, with nothing but his own cold memories to occupy him.
