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Wyll can’t believe he’s gotten to this point in his life. One where he’s caught in a foursome between three beautiful men and stuffed full of so much cock he can barely think straight.
He drools around Astarion’s cock—Halsin was too big for his recently-unvirgined mouth, they all agreed, since he can barely handle Astarion and Gale—and stares up at Astarion. Lustily, he’s certain. His eyes water. Astarion’s hands are on his horns, holding him in place but being shockingly gentle despite it. He’s gentler with Wyll than he is with Gale. When he fuck Gale’s mouth, he fucks him like he’s trying to screw the tadpole from his skull.
Astarion meets Wyll’s eyes. “You’re ravishing, darling.”
How he manages to be coherent while Wyll sucks his cock and Halsin eats him out is beyond Wyll. This isn’t his first foursome, he told them, though it is the first one he’s wanted a hundred percent. It breaks Wyll’s heart that Astarion didn’t get to experience things the way he did. Slowly and with incredibly understanding partners. (Though “slowly” is a bit incorrect; things went as slowly as they can when almost all parties involved are convinced that their certain death looms over the horizon.) Astarion was inducted into sex like this through force. Pain and fear replaced pleasure.
Fucking heartbreaking.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Astarion says. “You two are obviously not fucking him hard enough if he can think.”
“Wyll is a ponderous man.”
Despite his words, Gale grips Wyll’s hips harder and thrusts deeply. “Though I admit I am surprised he can form coherent thoughts.”
Halsin says nothing, mouth occupied with thoroughly eating Astarion out, but responds in kind. His hips thrust up into Wyll’s.
Wyll’s eyes roll into his head. Mizora must be getting an eyeful. Yeah, well, fuck her. Though she helped make his body the way it is, she’s been nothing but a pain ever since. He deserves a little pleasure without judgment. Especially after killing Raphael and nearly dying. Devil-killer has a nice ring to it to make other devils nervous.
(Watching Gale screw an incubus and selling his body to them was also a bit horrific. Of all the poor ego-driven decisions the man has made…)
“Our little devil-slayer,” Astarion purrs. He twists one of Wyll’s braids around his finger. “You’re being good for you masters, arne’t you?”
Wyll attempts to nod as much as possible while still taking Astarion in his throat. Tears blur his vision. Spit escapes the corners of his mouth. He feels so messy, so filthy. Debauched.
“I’d expect nothing less from our perfect toy. All these holes he’s willing to share. What a selfless boy, the Blade of Avernus.” Gale ghosts his fingers lightly along Wyll’s back.
The praise makes Wyll a little light-headed. That, and the cock down his throat.
Halsin grips his thigh almost encouragingly.
The first time Wyll took Halsin, he’d worried it would be like those horror stories Wyll had heard of girls’ first times. More blood than a goblin battle and little pleasure to make it worth it. Nevermind that Wyll was no longer a nervous teenage girl or a virgin at the time. (Might as well have been, given the size and heft of Halsin and how much stretching it took him.)
While he was no size queen (unlike Astarion), he quite enjoys sleeping with Halsin, whether he’s on top or bottom.
Gale kisses Wyll’s shoulder tenderly. Of the three of his lovers, he’s the only other one with chest hair. It’s nice to feel against his skin, the tickle-rough of body hair. Having another human in the group makes Wyll feel both more and less like a freak.
“Wish I could see your face,” Gale breathes into his ear, tickling the shell with his beard. “Gods, you’re still so beautiful, even from behind. Flawless skin. That tail. Your back is so strong, it nearly drives me mad.”
“I can fix that, Gale. For both of you.”
The parasite squirms in Wyll’s brain as they all link together. Wyll isn’t as startled as he should be when he finds himself looking at his own face from Astarion’s eyes. While not the intended use for their tadpoles, it’s incredibly useful.
Tears streak from Wyll’s eyes and spit drips around Astarion’s pale cock. Wyll’s eyes are nearly rolled all the way up into his head, flickering to hold Astarion’s gaze when he can manage it. He looks so wet and desperate as Astarion holds him in place by his horns.
The rest is also beautiful.
Gale, stocky and thrusting into his ass, the darkness of his Netherese Orb swirling in thin fingers from his chest to his eye. Wyll’s back arches up into Gale just to be fucked down onto Halsin’s dick. Halsin is nearly hidden beneath Wyll’s dark body, amber-colored arms wrapped tightly around Wyll’s torso.
Just watching himself be full of his lovers’ cocks is enough to drive Wyll to his first orgasm of the night. He clenches around Gale and Halsin and groans around Astarion.
“You’re absolutely gorgeous when you come.” Astarion wipes a thumb along Wyll’s chin. It comes back shiny with spit. “Let’s make him do it again.”
Halsin grumbles in agreement where his chest is pressed to Wyll’s. This isn’t as fulfilling (emotionally, not physically) as when they make sweet, slow love. It’s still good, though.
More tears fall from Wyll’s eyes. It’s so much so soon after his orgasm. He’s crying now. Actually crying, breath stuttering against Astairon’s cock.
Astarion pulls from Wyll’s mouth with a wet sound. “Darling, are you alright?”
Everyone else stops fucking Wyll’s various holes to listen to his response.
“Yes,” Wyll sniffles. “It’s so much. But in a very good way.”
“Are you certain, my love?” Gale runs his hands along the stretch of Wyll’s body, then fondles the sensitive base of his tail. “We can stop. I have no objections to that.”
“I like it.”
Wyll’s still crying. Not the most convincing look, he knows, but it’s so good he can’t put it into words. He sends out his emotions in a burst through their tadpoles, like Gale does in reaction to spells. Though instead of psychic damage, he hopes it’s all pleasure.
Judging from the twin groans from Astarion and Gale, it was all pleasure.
“Well, alright then. That’s a good answer.” Gale resumes his brutal pace into Wyll’s asshole.
Halsin also resumes thrusting, though gentler.
“Oh, darling, let me know your thoughts more often.”
Astarion doesn’t give Wyll a chance to respond before he slides his wet dick into Wyll’s mouth.
Considerably less overstimulated than before, Wyll allows his body to move fluidly between all these cocks crammed in all three of his holes. He isn't as stretchy as Astarion, but he hopes to make up for that with his early-twenties enthusiasm.
Gale’s moans grow louder and more regular as he drives faster into Wyll. “Gods, to be young again. All that energy.”
“Being undead also gives you energy. If you feed regularly.”
“Will you feed from him today?” Gale kneads Wyll’s ass a little like a cat before smacking it genly. As though he’s too nervous to hit Wyll hard for fear of hurting him. So sweet.
“Do I look like I can reach his neck?” Astarion says. “Why don’t you bite him instead, darling? You have such a nice mouth. All of you.”
Gale hums thoughtfully before leaning over Wyll’s back, soft stomach pressing into the ridges along his spine. It can’t be comfortable for him, even with the extra padding of Gale against him.
Thoughts of comfort leave Wyll’s mind as Gale’s blunt teeth dig into his shoulder. He won’t draw blood, but he does draw a moan from Wyll’s throat. Hopefully Gale will break the skin. Wyll likes to bleed during sex, he’s discovered. For all he wanted a fairytale relationship with “normal” sex when he was younger (and even months ago), he enjoys it on the rough side.
(Making love is still nice. Wyll loves slow, soft sex with his boyfriends as much as he loves sex that makes him scream until he’s hoarse.)
“Oh Gods,” Gale groans into Wyll’s shoulder. His hips stutter as he reaches his end, pressing flush against Wyll’s ass as he floods him with heat.
Wyll’s moan is muffled against Astarion’s cock.
“Beautiful,” Astarion breathes.
Gale rests his soft cheek against Wyll’s shoulder, beard growing spit-slick from the bite. His body is hot against Wyll’s back, weight wonderful. Just enough for Wyll to be comfortable without being crushing.
The image flashes in Wyll’s mind: Gale’s body draped over Wyll’s back, Wyll’s body moving with each of Halsin’s thrusts. Wyll really does look wrecked.
Shit. Wyll clenches, trying not to come again so soon.
Gale groans again. “So tight.”
“I love that dirty, helpless look in your eyes. I hope you do, as well.” Astarion shifts his grip on Wyll’s horns. “Mm. Halsin, keep doing that.”
When Gale pulls out, he lets out a shaky little laugh.
Wyll responds with a pathetic noise. Semen dribbles from his hole, down his shaky thighs. He doesn’t want to be empty, even though his two other holes are being used. Sex has made him greedy. His asshole clenches around nothing.
“Pathetic,” Astarion purrs. “If only we thought to plug you up.”
Detect Thoughts is such a useful spell during sex. Using magic for your lover’s pleasure is a brilliant idea.
Now that Wyll’s ass is empty, he can focus on sucking Astarion’s cock the way Astarion likes it. Sloppy. That’s what he taught Wyll, uncharacteristically patient as he showed Wyll’s Polymorphed cock exactly what he likes and had Wyll try it on his own dick. Spit slides freely fro the corners of Wyll’s mouth like his tears. The head of Astarion’s cock pounds against the back of Wyll’s throat as he focuses on not throwing up. Gagging on Astarion is a wonderful type of pain.
“Good.” Astarion sighs happily. “You take it so well, darling.”
Wyll would hope so. The focus on sucking cock keeps Wyll from coming apart on Halsin’s cock too early. More of Gale’s semen leaks from his hole.
Halsin holds Wyll close by his ass, digging his sharp nails into the muscle there.
All that’s on Wyll’s mind is please, please, please and how beautiful he looked through Astarion’s eyes. Sloppy from sex and being fucked in two of his holes.
With a final moan of pleasure and a hard grip on his horns, Astarion pulls his cock from Wyll’s mouth to cover his face in cum. He smiles sharply down at Wyll. “Perfect,” he says. “The Blade of Avernus, covered in vampire semen. Marked by a monster.”
“You’re not—”
Wyll’s interrupted by another portrait of himself. His own face, broad and refined, covered in thick strings of pearly cum that drips down his face and jaw. The face-fucking has left half-dried tear tracks down his cheeks and spit dribbling down his chin. Wyll’s eyes are lidded with pleasure he doesn’t know he’s ever seen before. Astarion was right about it being perfect. A monster hunter covered in vampire semen, ass full of wizard cum, front hole stretched around druid dick.
The image makes Wyll orgasm once again. He trembles with the intensity. It’s vanity to come to his own face twice, even when in the middle of a foursome of his boyfriends. Pleasure assaults Wyll’s body as Halsin gently fucks him through it.
“Thank you, master,” Wyll croaks, voice raw from the brutal blow job and orgasm.
Astarion covers his mouth almost coyly. “Oh, I just can’t wait for seconds.”
For once, Wyll doesn’t think he can handle seconds. He’s come twice already, and now he’s stretched on Halsin’s cock to finish.
Astarion dismounts Halsin’s face and walks away on subtly shaky legs, leaving Wyll with his gentlest lover. “Gale, if you want another hole to use—”
Halsin gently rubs a thumb through the semen on Wyll’s cheekbone then licks his thumb clean. His hazel eyes are full of affection. The tattoo running through one of them draws Wyll’s eyes almost more than the scars. His boyfriends are so beautiful it nearly brings him to tears. Today, after two orgasms and the intense lovemaking to reach them, he’s sentimental.
“I can’t overstate how gorgeous I find you, even when filled by every man in camp. Though I prefer you when you’re coherent.”
The way Halsin’s mouth moves is enthralling. Wyll’s brain has fully become mush. He can only think about how much he loves his boyfriends, how much he enjoys having sex with them, how he hopes they all make it out of this alive.
Wyll smiles weakly. “It’s a nice way to get my mind off things. And a good celebration.”
“Even so, I admire your enthusiasm.” Halsin grinds large circles into Wyll’s hole, drawing a deep moan from him. “A young man so virile and excited to accept what is given to you. Accepting your many lovers.”
“I’d take anything as long as it comes from one of you.” Wyll clears his throat and buries his semen-soaked face into Halsin’s neck, watching his horns so he doesn’t injure his boyfriend. “I love you. All of you.”
“We love you, as well.” Halsin holds Wyll close as he makes love to him. Unlike the frantic fucking of earlier, Halsin by himself tends to be a tender lover. He knows how to use his cock for the pleasure of his partners, how to place that first.
“I want you in me,” Wyll breathes. “I want to be full.”
Halsin’s deep, throaty growl makes all of Wyll’s body reverberate. Wyll could nearly cry from it all. He’s been so well-used, coated in and filled with his boyfriends’ seed, praised and objectified in equal measure. His body trills with the pleasure of it all.
“Halsin,” Wyll moans. He clenches around Halsin for his final orgasm, body trembling. Everything in his body is on fire like Raphael’s hellfire spells have been cast on him again.
“Very good, cub. Lose yourself to it. You don’t need to hold on for me.”
“Yes, daddy.”
The one person Wyll calls daddy, all because of that stupid joke Astarion couldn’t let go of. The first time Wyll had said it, he’d warmed so hot he was certain he’d ignite, but Halsin had merely smiled good-naturedly and kissed him.
Wyll’s orgasm leaves him boneless against Halsin’s broad chest. Halsin holds Wyll’s limp body close as he gently thrusts up into Wyll’s overused hole. His sigh of pleasure as he finishes is Wyll’s entire world.
“Oh,” Wyll breathes back.
The hot seed fills Wyll’s hole until he’s completely full of his lovers. Every inch of his body has been claimed.
“Beautiful cub.” Halsin smooths Wyll’s braids back. “I can’t take my eyes from you.”
Wyll slides limply from Halsin’s front onto the bed next to him, leaking copious amounts of semen from his holes, face covered in cum. His thighs are striped with pearl.
In the hazy aftermath of his final orgasm, Wyll isn’t sure when Gale and Astarion return to his side to clean him, merely that he’s cleaned up before he can notice what’s happening. Wet clothes wipe semen and sweat from Wyll’s skin. Astarion and Gale coax cum from Wyll’s holes until he’s deemed clean enough. Then he’s absolutely inundated with kisses as they all shift into bed.
Wyll rests on his back, Astarion’s sharp front pressed to his side, Gale’s arm thrown over them both as he spoons Astarion. Halsin is pressed against his other side, curled into a half-moon to encase Wyll. His long arm rests over all of them, hand on Gale’s lower back.
It’s easy to fall asleep while surrounded by all his boyfriends. Wyll feels nothing but love as he drifts off.