[Oh he's so fucked. The minute Sypha's hands leave his, he's fucked because it is instinct to touch and grab and caress and hold onto whichever one of them he can reach at all times. The whimper that responds to Sypha's command is totally one that asks how fucked am I if I don't?.
She knows it'll fail too, and that's what makes it worse. Alucard shifts just enough to accomodate the new distribution of weight (Trevor's not moved yet, but it seems like he was just waiting for this to happen.) All he can do is tilt his neck just a little bit more so that Sypha can go wherever she wants.
His nightshirt pulls just a little bit more as he does so, exposing more collarbone and shoulder. It shouldn't look as inappropriate as it does, but that's the nature of these things. The littlest bit of exposure becomes so much more pleasing. Just as teeth and pressure do, and there's a loud groan as Sypha delivers on what has been teased for far too long.]
[What a mess he is, pretty and disheveled and whimpering. Of course they both know this won't last for long before he moves, but the fun is in the interim, seeing how long his resolve can hold out in the face of herself and Trevor using all of his weak points against him. And the nice thing about Alucard is that one of his weak points, she's discovered, is his own mind; play her cards carefully, and he'll do half the work for her, all in his own head.
She takes her time biting him, working his skin with tongue and teeth, knowing full well that the bruise won't last but making sure he feels every second of her leaving it, anyway. He always looks so good with the marks of her possession on him, she muses; it never fails to send a rush of heat through her, to let her gaze skim over her perfect proper Alucard in all his ethereal beauty and see those little blotches of red and purple like ink spilt on a page, outlined in the memory of her teeth.
When she's finished, she draws back to look him over, and it's not enough. Just one isn't enough, not when the redness is already starting to fade away at the edges even now. So she drops to his shoulder and bites him again, pulling his collar out of the way as, fruitlessly, she tries and tries to mark him faster than his own nature can erase the signs that she's been there.]
[What else can Alucard do in this moment except writhe and moan in absolute contentment under the weight of them both? His hands cannot move (they can, but whatever Sypha has in her head is enough to keep them still). He cannot shift his head because it would limit the skin that Sypha can kiss and bite and tease. He cannot move his legs because Trevor's put all his weight there, and so there is only this. This and not knowing which name to stutter out in the few moments he can articulate anything, because they're both overwhelming him.
At some point, Trevor decides his own nightshirt needs to go, and that affords a different view of the whole beautiful mess - that of from the top down. Alucard lost in sensation, his hands clenched into fists because he hasn't gone completely over the edge yet, Sypha having the absolute time of her life making it so, fading red marks on the vampires neck, and enough of Alucard's nightclothes hiked up now to show that he's halfway aroused.
That's a quick enough fix. If Alucard caught any of Trevor's staring (his eyes are on Sypha, which is fair considering the angle he is at), he's unaware. The only thing he feels is a hand around his cock, which prompts a new and deeper moan. One that grows louder as hand is exchanged for mouth.
(There's an art to arranging bodies here too, and Trevor's very careful not to accidentally headbutt Sypha's ass or legs.)]
[It would be polite, she thinks, to make an adjustment to get a little more out of Trevor's way, because the logistics of threesomes are always a little complicated, even if they also happen to be the delicious spice of a relationship. The problem is, she also really just likes sitting on Alucard like this, and while in theory she could just scoot up a little and coax him into putting his mouth to work for her — no, that's too much like giving, when this one time alone she wants to focus entirely on making him lie there and take it.
So, hmm. Decisions, decisions.
Ultimately, she does abandon her seat on him for the moment, mostly because moving out of the way will mean letting Alucard actually watch what Trevor is doing to him, which is just another layer of encouraging the arousal she knows must be starting to consume him.]
Look at him.
[Knelt at his side, now, she skims a hand over his chest and lets it slip beneath the rumpled hem of his nightshirt's collar, carefully avoiding the ridge of the scar she knows is there in favor of tracing the rises and valleys of his pectorals like a cartographer mapping a terrain.]
His hair looks so thick and so soft, doesn't it?
[Which at first seems like a fleeting nonsense remark, up until she very deliberately picks up her hand and reaches down to bury her fingers in Trevor's hair, adding just a touch of her own guidance as he works — and very emphatically demonstrating precisely what Alucard probably wishes he could do with his hands, and can't.]
[Well, the headbutt to the butt isn't happening, because that was going to be the check-in move to decide where, precisely, this was heading. (A joke that Trevor would absolutely make right now too if he wasn't otherwise occupied.) As it is, he looks up just in time to see Sypha shift, and the immediate trajectory is crystal clear.
Alucard's certain that Sypha's not going to be content to shower his neck in affection. He wouldn't if the tables were turned (and they so often are), but there's such a look of disappointment on his face as she moves off of him. The warmth will linger (it always does), but it is not there and immediate and ever pressing. There's only the weight and fire below now.
There's just enough daringness in Alucard for him to grab a pillow and prop his head up on an angle so that he can follow Sypha's new instructions. (Flat on the back is terrible for good observation.) His hands don't move below his own ears, so she can't deploy whatever terrible punishment she has in mind. What he sees is too much, too overwhelming. His fingernails dig into his palms. There's not much more restraint left there.
He twists so he can lean into Sypha's hand. His chest is a favored place for attention too, even if it pales in comparison to the neck. Trevor's hands force Alucard's hips to stay in place, if only for now. (Trevor's also starting to have a problem, but that's secondary to the point right now.)]
It....always is.
[Fuck. Trevor leans into Sypha's hand, and Alucard feels every inch of that movement around him.]
[She would be remiss if she didn't shower Trevor in a given portion of her attention, too; it's really just icing on the cake that, per the whimsical rules of their little game, she's allowed to pet him like this and Alucard isn't.
She's watching him, though, and she sees the way he tucks his nails against his palms, the way he's fighting to be good no matter how difficult she makes it for him. Honestly, the fact that he's held himself back this long at all, without a tie around his wrists or a separate hand holding him down, is a testament to his powers of self-restraint — or perhaps just to his willingness to play along.
It almost makes her want to take pity on him.
Still running her hand through the thick of Trevor's hair, she reaches up to Alucard with the other and skims her fingers along his jawline.]
...You can put your hands on one of us.
[A generosity. Mostly just because she wants to see what he'll do.]
[It's both, of course. Proving that he can do this and knowing full well Sypha would make good on any threat she made as a part of the rules for this morning. Both of Alucard's fists unclench, if only because he's been given permission to touch anything at all.
Choice is agony. Movement is also agony because Trevor's leaning into Sypha's hand a little too much and he has absolutely mastered multitasking right now. So for a precious second there's no movement in his hands. Alucard moves his head instead, so that the fingers that were on his jawline are close to his lips instead and he can kiss at whatever he can reach of them.
He wants his hands on both of them. To grab hair or arm or ass or anything at all, to pull them both as close as can be and just feel their own heightened heartbeats against his. Maybe he could get away with it now, but it wouldn't be the same.
So he completes the circut instead. His hand atop Sypha's, the one that's exploring every inch of his chest. The grip is firm and needy and so very desperate.
(Trevor picks this exact moment to finally withdraw his mouth. His plan's done, every inch of Alucard's fully aroused now, and it's all the better to smirk up at the both of them with.)]
[It's the truth; the faint blush that heats her cheeks is confirmation enough of that. She's not sure exactly what she thought might come of the liberty she'd granted him, though — perhaps that he'd sink his fingers into Trevor's hair, or grab for her and pull her back on top of him. But no, he chooses to cling to her hand, and something about that makes her melt a little in a way she hadn't been expecting.
Her sweet romantic of a vampire. She can feel his desperation through the clutch of his hand, and it makes her idly wonder if perhaps he's been made to suffer enough.]
What do you want, Alucard?
[It's an echo from before, but softer this time. This time there's a gentleness in her voice that promises he'll get what he asks for, if he can find the presence of mind to fit it to words.]
[He did want to grab Trevor's hair. Keep him where he was until all was done, but that would be too easy for this....everything. There's enough sense to process that, but precious little else.
Trevor shifts a little too. He sits next to Sypha, wraps both of his arms around her because unlike others involved here he can, and maybe that's going to just egg things on a bit more. His chin rests on her shoulder (okay he's resting his stubble there), trying very hard to put on a poker face.
He's failing, but Alucard's a mess so there's no bantering about it at all. Alucard's going to be a mess for about an hour after this too, because his response happily reveals that he's just on the edge of everything.]
[Suddenly, she is trapped. Suddenly Trevor's prickly chin is tickling her skin, and she can't help but squirm a little herself as she's drawn against him, still clinging to Alucard's hand. And just look at him, laid out like a feast, or maybe more like a half-melted puddle of something sweet.]
You have us.
[Which goes without saying, of course, but it's a sweet endearment to offer up anyway.]
Though it's going to take some work to find a good position, if you're set on having both of us at once.
[There's a very gentle nudge from Trevor at the words "good position." Sypha started this. Sypha gets to figure out what constitutes as a good position, because her fault. Just like she broke it except in this time the thing tha's gotten broken is the vampire's ability to articulate just about anything.
Because he's at that point. He's nodded along to what's been said, but reason's left him, he's an absolute turned on mess and it's Sypha's fault. (And Trevor's, but mostly Sypha's.)
Alucard turns to face them both. Just a little on his side, he's in their hands.]
Yes, I know.
[Three words, said with such headiness. Neediness. Anticipation. As if the other two needed more confirmation of Alucard's state.]
[Oh, good fuck, look at him. Sypha broke it, indeed, where "it" is defined as "Alucard".
She elbows at Trevor a little in token retaliation for his own nudging, then wriggles free of his arms just enough to lean down and kiss Alucard properly on his soft, beautiful mouth, because he deserves it.]
Just for that, you can do the hard work. Alucard, stay on your side. And you, lie down behind him, with his back to your chest.
[Which also puts him out of the running for kisses because NO KISSES FOR BLAMEY BLAMERS. But that's also her cue to shift and take up her own position in front of Alucard, facing him and easily within reach.
Arranging the three of them is never an easy prospect, and this is perhaps no exception. But preparing Alucard to take Trevor at this point would take time she doesn't feel like wasting (and he doesn't deserve it anyway, awful thing), whereas she's much better suited to let him slip inside her while Treffy fits himself between Alucard's thighs from behind, and lets the rocking of his hips drive the both of them forward into her.
It's far from ideal, but in the long run, it works — rather like the three of them, really.]
[Sypha has 200% broken the vampire. That fact, along with the retalatory elbow from Sypha, gets a very soft laugh from Trevor because what else can he do? He lets Sypha free of his arms, and really, that's not hard work she's assigning him! (He's getting kisses though, you aren't in charge of him entirely Sypha.)
Broken vampire is also extremely happy to do as he's told, and the minute that he can grab onto Sypha, he does. She's so warm in his arms, warmer around him, and everything else is trying to kiss whoever he can whenever it's possible. Trevor steals quite a few (hard work tax he'll claim later), because he shouldn't be denied looking at Alucard as he unravels in full just for one or two rude comments.
Which Alucard does. Being so very pleasantly stuck between the two, there's no point in trying to hold back or maintain his ability to talk or do anything else besides enjoy every part of this. The fact the two of them are on either side, the way Trevor's hips move them all along, the noises Sypha makes when he buries his mouth into her shoulder because there's loud and then there's whatever he's doing at the moment. Because he's loud and he's undignified and there's so much happening around him that he wants to respond to, but everything is overloaded in the best, most wonderful, perfect way.
Unsurprisingly, he finishes first. It's not a muffled noise, because Trevor figures out what's happening and tugs Alucard's hair just enough so that the other two can enjoy the display. They've worked hard (hah) to make it happen, and there's a terrible pride in seeing the final result. In watching everything reach a crescendo and knowing it's made all the more intense because there's no place for Alucard to move. There's just the weight of the two of them and the knowledge that the other two will still be there when Alucard finishes, because they're not done.
Until they are, and then there's nothing but a very collapsed pile of limbs in bed, all heavy breathing and satisfied because there are good mornings, and then there's this wonderful one.]
[Sypha, lazy and spoiled thing that she is, lifts her head up a little from where she's landed half-draped over Alucard, one arm somehow managing to land in the perfect position to keep a handful of Trevor's ass, and sighs pleasantly before settling back down again with the sleepy contentment of someone blissfully unable to perceive how comfortable or uncomfortable an arrangement of limbs might objectively be, being too preoccupied with warm satisfaction.]
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She knows it'll fail too, and that's what makes it worse. Alucard shifts just enough to accomodate the new distribution of weight (Trevor's not moved yet, but it seems like he was just waiting for this to happen.) All he can do is tilt his neck just a little bit more so that Sypha can go wherever she wants.
His nightshirt pulls just a little bit more as he does so, exposing more collarbone and shoulder. It shouldn't look as inappropriate as it does, but that's the nature of these things. The littlest bit of exposure becomes so much more pleasing. Just as teeth and pressure do, and there's a loud groan as Sypha delivers on what has been teased for far too long.]
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She takes her time biting him, working his skin with tongue and teeth, knowing full well that the bruise won't last but making sure he feels every second of her leaving it, anyway. He always looks so good with the marks of her possession on him, she muses; it never fails to send a rush of heat through her, to let her gaze skim over her perfect proper Alucard in all his ethereal beauty and see those little blotches of red and purple like ink spilt on a page, outlined in the memory of her teeth.
When she's finished, she draws back to look him over, and it's not enough. Just one isn't enough, not when the redness is already starting to fade away at the edges even now. So she drops to his shoulder and bites him again, pulling his collar out of the way as, fruitlessly, she tries and tries to mark him faster than his own nature can erase the signs that she's been there.]
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At some point, Trevor decides his own nightshirt needs to go, and that affords a different view of the whole beautiful mess - that of from the top down. Alucard lost in sensation, his hands clenched into fists because he hasn't gone completely over the edge yet, Sypha having the absolute time of her life making it so, fading red marks on the vampires neck, and enough of Alucard's nightclothes hiked up now to show that he's halfway aroused.
That's a quick enough fix. If Alucard caught any of Trevor's staring (his eyes are on Sypha, which is fair considering the angle he is at), he's unaware. The only thing he feels is a hand around his cock, which prompts a new and deeper moan. One that grows louder as hand is exchanged for mouth.
(There's an art to arranging bodies here too, and Trevor's very careful not to accidentally headbutt Sypha's ass or legs.)]
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[It would be polite, she thinks, to make an adjustment to get a little more out of Trevor's way, because the logistics of threesomes are always a little complicated, even if they also happen to be the delicious spice of a relationship. The problem is, she also really just likes sitting on Alucard like this, and while in theory she could just scoot up a little and coax him into putting his mouth to work for her — no, that's too much like giving, when this one time alone she wants to focus entirely on making him lie there and take it.
So, hmm. Decisions, decisions.
Ultimately, she does abandon her seat on him for the moment, mostly because moving out of the way will mean letting Alucard actually watch what Trevor is doing to him, which is just another layer of encouraging the arousal she knows must be starting to consume him.]
Look at him.
[Knelt at his side, now, she skims a hand over his chest and lets it slip beneath the rumpled hem of his nightshirt's collar, carefully avoiding the ridge of the scar she knows is there in favor of tracing the rises and valleys of his pectorals like a cartographer mapping a terrain.]
His hair looks so thick and so soft, doesn't it?
[Which at first seems like a fleeting nonsense remark, up until she very deliberately picks up her hand and reaches down to bury her fingers in Trevor's hair, adding just a touch of her own guidance as he works — and very emphatically demonstrating precisely what Alucard probably wishes he could do with his hands, and can't.]
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Alucard's certain that Sypha's not going to be content to shower his neck in affection. He wouldn't if the tables were turned (and they so often are), but there's such a look of disappointment on his face as she moves off of him. The warmth will linger (it always does), but it is not there and immediate and ever pressing. There's only the weight and fire below now.
There's just enough daringness in Alucard for him to grab a pillow and prop his head up on an angle so that he can follow Sypha's new instructions. (Flat on the back is terrible for good observation.) His hands don't move below his own ears, so she can't deploy whatever terrible punishment she has in mind. What he sees is too much, too overwhelming. His fingernails dig into his palms. There's not much more restraint left there.
He twists so he can lean into Sypha's hand. His chest is a favored place for attention too, even if it pales in comparison to the neck. Trevor's hands force Alucard's hips to stay in place, if only for now. (Trevor's also starting to have a problem, but that's secondary to the point right now.)]
It....always is.
[Fuck. Trevor leans into Sypha's hand, and Alucard feels every inch of that movement around him.]
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She's watching him, though, and she sees the way he tucks his nails against his palms, the way he's fighting to be good no matter how difficult she makes it for him. Honestly, the fact that he's held himself back this long at all, without a tie around his wrists or a separate hand holding him down, is a testament to his powers of self-restraint — or perhaps just to his willingness to play along.
It almost makes her want to take pity on him.
Still running her hand through the thick of Trevor's hair, she reaches up to Alucard with the other and skims her fingers along his jawline.]
...You can put your hands on one of us.
[A generosity. Mostly just because she wants to see what he'll do.]
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Choice is agony. Movement is also agony because Trevor's leaning into Sypha's hand a little too much and he has absolutely mastered multitasking right now. So for a precious second there's no movement in his hands. Alucard moves his head instead, so that the fingers that were on his jawline are close to his lips instead and he can kiss at whatever he can reach of them.
He wants his hands on both of them. To grab hair or arm or ass or anything at all, to pull them both as close as can be and just feel their own heightened heartbeats against his. Maybe he could get away with it now, but it wouldn't be the same.
So he completes the circut instead. His hand atop Sypha's, the one that's exploring every inch of his chest. The grip is firm and needy and so very desperate.
(Trevor picks this exact moment to finally withdraw his mouth. His plan's done, every inch of Alucard's fully aroused now, and it's all the better to smirk up at the both of them with.)]
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[It's the truth; the faint blush that heats her cheeks is confirmation enough of that. She's not sure exactly what she thought might come of the liberty she'd granted him, though — perhaps that he'd sink his fingers into Trevor's hair, or grab for her and pull her back on top of him. But no, he chooses to cling to her hand, and something about that makes her melt a little in a way she hadn't been expecting.
Her sweet romantic of a vampire. She can feel his desperation through the clutch of his hand, and it makes her idly wonder if perhaps he's been made to suffer enough.]
What do you want, Alucard?
[It's an echo from before, but softer this time. This time there's a gentleness in her voice that promises he'll get what he asks for, if he can find the presence of mind to fit it to words.]
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Trevor shifts a little too. He sits next to Sypha, wraps both of his arms around her because unlike others involved here he can, and maybe that's going to just egg things on a bit more. His chin rests on her shoulder (okay he's resting his stubble there), trying very hard to put on a poker face.
He's failing, but Alucard's a mess so there's no bantering about it at all. Alucard's going to be a mess for about an hour after this too, because his response happily reveals that he's just on the edge of everything.]
Both of you.
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[Suddenly, she is trapped. Suddenly Trevor's prickly chin is tickling her skin, and she can't help but squirm a little herself as she's drawn against him, still clinging to Alucard's hand. And just look at him, laid out like a feast, or maybe more like a half-melted puddle of something sweet.]
You have us.
[Which goes without saying, of course, but it's a sweet endearment to offer up anyway.]
Though it's going to take some work to find a good position, if you're set on having both of us at once.
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Because he's at that point. He's nodded along to what's been said, but reason's left him, he's an absolute turned on mess and it's Sypha's fault. (And Trevor's, but mostly Sypha's.)
Alucard turns to face them both. Just a little on his side, he's in their hands.]
Yes, I know.
[Three words, said with such headiness. Neediness. Anticipation. As if the other two needed more confirmation of Alucard's state.]
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[Oh, good fuck, look at him. Sypha broke it, indeed, where "it" is defined as "Alucard".
She elbows at Trevor a little in token retaliation for his own nudging, then wriggles free of his arms just enough to lean down and kiss Alucard properly on his soft, beautiful mouth, because he deserves it.]
Just for that, you can do the hard work. Alucard, stay on your side. And you, lie down behind him, with his back to your chest.
[Which also puts him out of the running for kisses because NO KISSES FOR BLAMEY BLAMERS. But that's also her cue to shift and take up her own position in front of Alucard, facing him and easily within reach.
Arranging the three of them is never an easy prospect, and this is perhaps no exception. But preparing Alucard to take Trevor at this point would take time she doesn't feel like wasting (and he doesn't deserve it anyway, awful thing), whereas she's much better suited to let him slip inside her while Treffy fits himself between Alucard's thighs from behind, and lets the rocking of his hips drive the both of them forward into her.
It's far from ideal, but in the long run, it works — rather like the three of them, really.]
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Broken vampire is also extremely happy to do as he's told, and the minute that he can grab onto Sypha, he does. She's so warm in his arms, warmer around him, and everything else is trying to kiss whoever he can whenever it's possible. Trevor steals quite a few (hard work tax he'll claim later), because he shouldn't be denied looking at Alucard as he unravels in full just for one or two rude comments.
Which Alucard does. Being so very pleasantly stuck between the two, there's no point in trying to hold back or maintain his ability to talk or do anything else besides enjoy every part of this. The fact the two of them are on either side, the way Trevor's hips move them all along, the noises Sypha makes when he buries his mouth into her shoulder because there's loud and then there's whatever he's doing at the moment. Because he's loud and he's undignified and there's so much happening around him that he wants to respond to, but everything is overloaded in the best, most wonderful, perfect way.
Unsurprisingly, he finishes first. It's not a muffled noise, because Trevor figures out what's happening and tugs Alucard's hair just enough so that the other two can enjoy the display. They've worked hard (hah) to make it happen, and there's a terrible pride in seeing the final result. In watching everything reach a crescendo and knowing it's made all the more intense because there's no place for Alucard to move. There's just the weight of the two of them and the knowledge that the other two will still be there when Alucard finishes, because they're not done.
Until they are, and then there's nothing but a very collapsed pile of limbs in bed, all heavy breathing and satisfied because there are good mornings, and then there's this wonderful one.]
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[Sypha, lazy and spoiled thing that she is, lifts her head up a little from where she's landed half-draped over Alucard, one arm somehow managing to land in the perfect position to keep a handful of Trevor's ass, and sighs pleasantly before settling back down again with the sleepy contentment of someone blissfully unable to perceive how comfortable or uncomfortable an arrangement of limbs might objectively be, being too preoccupied with warm satisfaction.]
I think that was worth burning the eggs.