Huntr/x Dressing Room 3some (Patreon)

Exactly what it sounds like. Enjoy, Patrons!Tags: fisting, heats, ruts, oral, a/b/o dynamics, alpha/omega/omega

Rumi plants her palms on the dressing room vanity and stares into the mirror. Her reflection peers back, face flushed, orange eyes blazing. Feverish warmth creeps across her flesh, causing her patterns to pulse with pale, prismatic light.

It’s her heat. Two days early. Right before the opening of the worldwide Huntr/x Reunion Tour, no less. The pills she gulped down an hour ago are hardly touching the symptoms.

Sweat beads on Rumi’s neck, rolling down her spine to pool at her lower back. Her nails drag across the vanity as a cold shudder crawls through her body. Her temperature is all over the place and her heart is pounding like a drum.

She squeezes her eyes shut, exhaling a slow breath through her nose. In, out. In… She has to be on stage in fifteen minutes, but all she can think about is shoving a hand between her legs and stroking until the pain stops.

Outside the dressing room, she hears the dull roar of the crowd. A crowd full of fans. Some of them probably traveled a long way and paid a lot of money. She’s acutely aware that every performance she gives might become a treasured memory, or even a highlight in someone’s life. Music is food for the heart and soul.

How can I let them down like this?

She can’t. She won’t let them down. She has to find a way to pull herself together in the next… Rumi taps her phone, face-up on the corner of the vanity. Make that twelve minutes.

The door swings open behind her.

Rumi gasps, instinctively shielding herself with her arms. Then Mira’s warm, spicy smell fills her nose, causing her pulse to slow down. It stutters out of rhythm, though, as Mira swaggers in, kicking the door shut with her foot.

“What’s the hold-up? You never take this...long…” Mira’s voice cracks, dipping half an octave. A sly smirk spreads across her face as she sniffs the air, and she leers in Rumi’s direction.

Rumi lowers her arms. Her knees wobble as Mira’s scent spreads through the room, pressing in around her. It’s a thick, intoxicating cloud that leaves her trembling. She tries to speak, but all that comes out is a soft groan.

Mira prowls across the dressing room with wicked intent in her eyes. She drapes her arms over Rumi’s shoulders, reaching under her braid to play with the soft strands of hair on the back of her neck. “Need help? Just ask.”

Rumi’s breath hitches. She feels like she’s drowning. Mira’s alpha pheromones are everywhere, fogging up her brain and causing a rush of heat between her legs. She needs Mira’s help. Needs Mira to flip up her skirt, bend her over, and—

A whine breaks in Rumi’s throat as Mira’s lean body presses flush to hers. The bulge of Mira’s cock rubs her hip, firm and insistent. Rumi’s lashes flutter. They don’t have time for this, but she can’t find the strength to say no.

“I’ll be quick,” Mira murmurs. She leans forward, kissing the tip of Rumi’s nose, then just barely grazing her lips. “Later tonight, Zoey and I will spoil you.”

Greed wins out. Rumi fists the hem of Mira’s crop top and smashes their lips together. Mira’s tongue pushes into her mouth, stroking against hers, and she moans in relief. Kissing makes everything hurt less, but it makes her body burn hotter.

Mira breaks away. Rumi chases her mouth, but Mira grabs the base of her braid, pulling her head to the side. “Mmm…” She buries her nose in the crook of Rumi’s throat, inhaling deeply. “You smell so fucking good.” Her hot tongue sweeps across Rumi’s mating gland, sending another pulse of heat straight to Rumi’s clit.

Rumi bites her lip. She’s so slick and swollen, leaking through her panties. Another minute, and she’ll stain her skirt before she even gets on stage.

“Hurry,” she pants, sliding her hands down to Mira’s fly. Her fingers fumble with the button. “Please.”

Mira thrusts her hips forward, pushing into Rumi’s hands. She’s already hard and wanting. “I don’t need to.” Her breath tickles Rumi’s ear. “You won’t last more than a minute.”

Rumi blushes, but doesn’t deny it. Mira’s right. She’s pretty sure she’ll come the moment Mira touches her clit. It’s already taking everything she has to keep from falling apart.

She unzips Mira’s fly, fumbling to pull her cock out of her boxers. It’s so smooth, so hot and hard in her hands. She’s almost swept away by the urge to drop to her knees and suck. The taste of salt swells in her mouth as she imagines Mira’s come shooting down her throat.

Mira walks her back and lifts her onto the vanity. Rumi’s legs fall open instinctively. She grips the edge of the table, squirming as Mira’s nails drag up her stocking-clad inner thighs. Then Mira hikes her skirt, pulling her panties to one side.

“Mira,” Rumi hisses through her teeth. Her ass clenches and her nails claw the vanity as two of Mira’s fingers glide through her wetness, spreading everything around. Her clit jumps at the touch, but Mira avoids it, sinking two fingers inside.

Rumi’s eyes roll back. Full. She’s finally full—but not full enough.

She wants another finger.

Better yet, Mira’s cock.

She wants to be stretched, split wide open, and fucked raw.

“Easy.” Mira’s fingers sink deeper, slowly and firmly. “This won’t take long.”

Rumi’s core pulses as they hook into her swollen front wall. She clenches around Mira’s knuckles, desperate and wanting. Wrapping her arms around Mira’s neck, she drops her chin, resting her forehead on Mira’s shoulder. Mira’s demanding alpha scent has her dripping everywhere, making a mess of her stockings and Mira’s hand.

The vanity shakes beneath her as Mira starts thrusting. Her legs shake too, and she clutches Mira tighter. The crawling fire of her heat has become an agonizing blaze, burning deep inside. If Mira so much as brushes her clit, she’ll crumble completely.

Mira’s thumb flicks the tip, just once.

Rumi squeals, squeezing down on Mira’s fingers. Wetness gushes from her swollen cunt, running down her legs and ruining her stockings. Mira gives a low chuckle and thrusts faster. She rolls Rumi’s clit beneath her thumb, going from a light tease to merciless speed and pressure.

Yes—full—more!

Rumi rakes her nails down Mira’s triceps, then drops her hands between their bodies, fishing for Mira’s cock again. This time, Mira indulges her. She guides it to Rumi’s entrance, dragging the tip through Rumi’s heat. Rumi’s toes clench as it grazes her pussy. She needs it inside more than she’s ever needed anything in her life.

Mira’s sticky hands grip her thighs, pinning them to the vanity and holding them wide open as she snaps her hips.

Stars dance in front of Rumi’s eyes as Mira’s cock thrusts in. Her spine arches and she lifts her hips, scooching forward so that Mira can sink deeper. Mira does, driving her hips in a hard, fast rhythm.

It’s rough, it’s selfish, and it’s exactly what Rumi craves. The crowd, the waiting stage, and everything else around her melts away. There’s only Mira, stretching her wide and filling her up.

When Mira’s teeth sink into her shoulder, Rumi comes again. Her body tenses, then releases as her peak washes over her. Her inner walls flutter and a gush of slick heat spills around Mira’s half-formed knot, hot and firm where it rubs against her clit.

It gives a slight twitch, and Rumi comes harder. She wants it deep inside. Wants to feel it swell and stretch her to her limit…

The door swings open.

“Mira? Rumi?”

Zoey rushes in, then stops short. Her eyes widen as she takes in the sight, then narrow. “What are you doing? We’re on stage in five!”

Stage? Oh shit, the concert!

Rumi hides her face in Mira’s neck. She’s hot, sticky, and embarrassed—but Mira’s teeth are still buried in her shoulder, Mira’s cock is swollen and throbbing inside her, and her first two orgasms have barely taken the edge off. Her hips are already moving without permission, rocking against Mira’s knot for more.

Mira growls into Rumi’s shoulder. Her nails dig into Rumi’s thighs as she starts thrusting again, grinding her knot deliberately against Rumi’s entrance.

Rumi gives a choked sob. They have to stop—she has to stop…

The sweet, bubbly champagne smell of Zoey’s pheromones cut through Mira’s thick, spicy cloud of scent. A tight ball of tension in Rumi’s chest loosens, and a cool shudder crawls across her burning skin, soothing some of the fire. She sighs in relief, closing her eyes and sucking the crook of Mira’s neck.

Mira’s hips stutter, then freeze. “Zoey, I… I can’t…”

Rumi’s lashes flutter. Through half-closed eyes, she sees Zoey walk up behind Mira and wrap both arms around her waist. One of her hands drifts down, caressing Mira’s knot. “I’ll help,” she says. “Just don’t knot her, or you’ll be stuck here.”

That’s all it takes. Mira groans, and Rumi shudders as a warm rush of come spills inside her. She whines as Mira’s hips jerk, forcing the flood of heat even deeper. A wave of relief washes over her, and a grin spreads across her face. 

Mira’s come. That’s what she needs…

It isn’t enough. She needs Mira’s knot. She feels it grinding into her clit, hot and hard and swollen. She craves the sting, the stretch, the unrelenting fullness. She needs all of Mira, right now.

“Please,” she gasps, tangling her fingers in Mira’s hair. “I need it, I need…”

“Pull out,” Zoey says. “You have five minutes to clean up, tuck, and get on stage.”

Mira growls. Her spicy scent grows stronger, enveloping Rumi completely and coaxing another flood of wetness from between her legs. Mira’s hips give one more jog, as though to prove a point, and her knot almost pops inside.

“Please, Mira?” Zoey says. “Pretty please?”

The smell of determined alpha is cut through with the sweet, tempting scent of a compliant omega. Zoey’s scent.

Mira stops growling. Her grip on Rumi’s thighs loosens, and she pulls out. She mutters a few choice curses as she stumbles away, hurrying over to the sink to clean up as best she can.

Rumi whines, but she’s too overwhelmed to protest. She slumps back against the mirror, vision blurry, head swimming. She winces as her inner walls clench, rippling in search of Mira’s cock.

It hurts so much. If Mira doesn’t come back… if she doesn’t get something inside her soon…

Then Zoey kneels in front of her, pulling her legs apart, leaning in to sucking her clit.

Rumi arches in bliss at the warm, wet contact. She arches, tangling her fingers in Zoey’s hair. Her hips buck without permission. A full-throated cry vibrates in her chest as Zoey laps the sensitive bud.

Zoey moans, licking and sucking harder. Her tongue strokes and swirls everywhere, searching for every drop of Mira’s come. A slower, softer release rolls through Rumi’s body, tingling low in her pelvis and spreading out to her fingers and toes. If Mira’s rough treatment brought instant relief, Zoey’s devoted attention is soothing a much deeper ache.

She’s still empty, though. Zoey’s tongue feels divine, but it isn’t enough. Her heat demands more.

Two of Zoey’s fingers circle Rumi’s entrance, dipping easily inside. “Give me a second,” she huffs, planting wet, messy kisses around Rumi’s clit. “I know what you need.”

Two fingers become three, then four. Rumi’s eyes shoot wide open as Zoey’s folded fist pushes inside, stretching her as wide as Mira’s knot. She shouts Zoey’s name as she comes again, long and deep, squeezing desperately around Zoey’s fist.

Zoey rocks her hand gently, not quite thrusting, but keeping slow, steady pressure. As Rumi’s core ripples, she feels every centimeter, a perfect contour of Zoey’s fist. It hits all the right spots because it hits every spot. Watery tears leak from the corners of her eyes.

”Unnfff…”

With an exhausted groan, Rumi’s hands fall away from Zoey’s head. Her lashes flutter as Zoey continues fucking her—taking care of her. Her clit twitches as Zoey sucks it. There’s tender thought and care in every motion as she massages Rumi’s inner walls.

“You know I can’t tuck if you keep doing that, right?” Mira drawls. “Unless you want half the world to see me bricked up.”

“Not our fault we’re hot,” Zoey snorts, stifling a laugh. “If it’s a problem, stop watching.”

As they banter, Rumi takes slow, steady breaths. Zoey is still tending to her, easing her down from her high. Mira’s hard, fast rut had driven her wild, but somehow, Zoey has managed to calm and satisfy her heat—at least for now.

She just hopes it will last long enough for the performance.

Another knock on the door. The handle rattles, but doesn’t turn.

“Girls? Why is the door locked?” Bobby shouts from the hall. “We’re ten minutes late and the crowd’s going nuts!”

Zoey kisses Rumi’s inner thigh, then turns to call over her shoulder. “Wardrobe malfunction. We’ll be out in a minute.”

“Please, hurry! If they don’t get to see Huntr/x, I don’t know what they’ll do!”

“Good things come to those who wait,” Zoey says. Slowly, she withdraws her hand. Rumi whimpers with slight discomfort, but once it’s out, she feels half-way normal again. She still wants to drag Zoey to the floor or pin Mira against a wall, but she can control herself. 

Kind of.

She just hopes she can put on a performance worth waiting for.

Zoey takes control of the situation, helping Rumi to her feet and leading her over to the sink. She wipes most of the mess from Rumi’s thighs with a washcloth and finds her a fresh set of underwear, as well as a pair of pants from the costume rack to replace the ruined skirt.

As Rumi stops in front of the mirror to fix her smudged makeup, Zoey helps Mira with her mussed outfit. In the mirror’s reflection, Rumi smirks as she watches Mira try and steal a kiss.

Zoey pulls back, with a whispered promise of ‘later’. Rumi’s pulse speeds up as she watches Zoey’s lips shape the words. She wants it to be later already.

Later. Later is for us. Right now is for the fans.

She sprays herself liberally with perfume and adjusts her collar to cover Mira’s bitemark, which is already turning from pink to dark red. In a few hours, it will be a purple bruise.

She touches the mark briefly. She’ll probably feel it, think about it on stage. Maybe it will inspire her performance. Not that she needs inspiration. Mira and Zoey are always there with her, lifting her to greater heights. 

Mira and Zoey come to collect her, looking put together for the most part. Wordlessly, the three of them join hands and smile at each other. In that moment, they lock in, becoming something more than themselves. Becoming Huntr/x.

“Ready?” Zoey asks, looking from Mira to Rumi.

Rumi flashes a confident smile. “Born ready. Just try and keep up.”