nealuchi | kinds of thirst

Title: kinds of thirst
Fandom: Library of Ruina
Character(s): Evangeline (OC), Nosferatu
Pairing(s): Nosferatu/Evangeline
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 826
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Summary: Some Abnormalities are hard to seduce. Nosferatu is not one of them.
Notes: Part of "these eldritch horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. i get them though."

Some Abnormalities are difficult to make a move on.

Like, say, Funeral of the Dead Butterflies. Obviously he's super hot, cuts a figure in that suit, love those extra arms - but she's been totally unable to work "hey so do you want to bang" into a conversation without it feeling weird. She's not going to change the subject from 'what happens to people after they die' to something like that, that's tacky.

On the other end of the spectrum is Nosferatu. All she has to do is wear a dress with a low neckline and say something cliche about thirst, and he's hooked.

"Just a sip," she says with a soft laugh. It's not particularly comfortable to be pressed against the castle wall like this, but the fact that he can easily lift her up stirs something in her even in his humanoid form.

"Of course," he says, smiling with gleaming fangs. "Just enough to slake the thirst, hm?"

There's a sudden prick of pain when his teeth sink into her neck, but his fangs are sharp enough that it soon fades to a dull ache. He drinks from her, mouth warm where it's sealed to her skin.

In the books she's read, a vampire's bite has an aphrodisiac quality for its victim. That seems like a slight exaggration, but it's true that her pulse does quicken. Hard to say how much of that is from her wrapping her legs around his waist, though.

"Nosferatu…" It comes out breathy.

He lifts his head, with red staining his mouth. "Hm?"

"It's my turn now." She hikes her skirt up to her hips. "Indulge me?"

The ability to just make clothes disappear is a useful one for Abnormalities who transform, she thinks. Then all thoughts are chased from her head by him sliding into her.

He doesn't wait for her to adjust, and she wouldn't want him to. Nosferatu's thrusts are hard and deep, sending sparks of pleasure from her core all the way up her spine and leaving her breathless.

He bites her again, and she should scold him for doing so without permission, but, well… It's hard to muster any annoyance at him when his motions are making her toes curl. She moans, tilting her head to give him more room to comfortably drink.

The blood loss, coupled with his thrusts, leaves her pleasantly light-headed. It's good, but nowhere near enough. "More. Give me more, I can take it."

"Are you certain?" he asks, a breath away from her skin.

She squeezes her legs tighter around him, grinning. "Don't tell me you're too scared to transform?"

That line always works on guys. Men are basically the same, even when they're eldritch monsters.

Nosferatu's transformation is quick and severe, the hands on her hips turning into claws as jagged wings sprout from his back. Some of his many eyes are closed in pleasure, while others keenly watch the expression on her face.

He's not much longer like this, but he is thicker, and she can feel her body stretch to fit him. She's as full as she's ever been, and every nerve she has is rubbed against with each thrust. She digs her hands into his fur and keens.

His tail swings around, and she takes the tip of it between her lips, sucking intently. She has no idea if it's sensitive or not - tails are about fifty-fifty, in her experience - but judging by the way Nosferatu shivers and his wings flap at nothing, it clearly doesn't feel bad. It slides further into her mouth and she toys with it with her tongue.

The blunt side of a claw rubs lightly over her clit, and she shudders, her body squeezing around him reflexively. Her moan is muffled by the tail in her mouth, but her approval must be obvious, since he does it again. She clenches tight enough to keep him from moving for a second.

Another claw rips through the top of her dress and curls around her chest, only lightly pricking at her skin. Even the hint of pain feels good with how overstimulated she is.

Nosferatu manages a few more thrusts before going still, a guttural moan escaping his mouth as something hot spills inside her. It takes her half a minute to catch up with him, pleasure sending all her senses white.

After she catches her breath and lets the tail slip from her mouth, Evangeline nudges him lightly with her foot until he lets her down from the wall. That done, she promptly settles herself against his body. He's covered in fur and feathers, and while he isn't the fluffiest of Abnormalities, he's still plenty comfortable to rest against, especially when he wraps a wing companionably around her.

Besides, she's not eager to leave. Leaving means getting through the Floor of Language with a ripped dress, and the idea of running into Gebura like that is… not great. Worth it, but still.