kink_bingo: Eye of the tiger
title: Eye of the tiger pairing: implied Draco/Hermione pov: 3rd rating: R prompt: anonymity + plushie/furry kink summary: "Good evening, sir. What animals do you choose for the night?" disclaimer: the Harry Potter universe belongs only to J.K.Rowling A/N: kinda EWE, people transforming in anthropomorhipc animals - for kink_bingo's march mini challenge
The doorman was wearing a feathered mask, that clashed with the severe looking suit he was wearing. He took the client’s coat and gave a numbered ticket in return.
“Good evening, sir. What animals do you choose for the night?” the doorman asked, peacock feather ready in his hand.
“Tigers, orange for her and white for me,” the blonde man replied, observing the hotel-looking lobby from the corner of the eye.
The feathered man wrote on an enchanted parchment and a number appeared on it.
“Room 306, third floor. Have a good night, sir,” he handed a white tiger mask over and bowed. The pale man paced confidently to the lift and pressed the bronzed button labeled ‘3’.
The lift doors opened on a long hallway, covered with a Persian carpet on the floor and adorned with paintings on the cream wallpaper. There were doors on both sides of the hallway, but the one the man was heading to was the third on the right, number 3-oh-6.
The pale man wore the mask and secured it with a Sticking charm, then opened the door on a fairly big bedroom, almost suite-like, and was pleased to see his companion for the night: a petite woman with long wavy brown hair, and with tiger features already on as well, was sitting composed on the edge of the bed, waiting for him. She stood up and smiled shyly at the guest.
The man closed the door behind himself and bowed respectfully at the woman, who did a skirt-less curtsy. He got closer to the woman, who could inhale the expensive cologne the man was wearing, and ran a hand through her soft hair, that felt alive like the coat of a real tiger. He recognized a skillful witch, when he saw one: this is the first accurate anthropomorphic Transfiguration he’s seen in many years in the scene – there were always flaws, like leaving human faces instead of giving it the animal’s characteristics, that he hated so much.
This woman, no. She may have Stuck her mask like he did, but she perfected it, as if she fused herself with the mask and made the tiger features her own. Her hazelnut eyes were shining with almost feral anticipation. Her skin was covered in soft brown-orange and black fur, not overbearing her body but wrapping her gently and showing her curves. The pointed ears were perked up in interest and the tail was swaying slowly, sensually. She was naked but she wasn’t, and also had an aura of nervousness mixed to excitement and desire.
The man led the tigress to the bed, where they sat next to each other. The feeling of soft fur under his fingers and her magnetic eyes ran quick flashes of pleasure through his body; when the man nuzzled the woman’s neck, he could feel her human warmth and nice scent under the musky smell of nature and wildness of her tiger form.
He was glad she decided not to Transfigure all her face in a tiger’s muzzle, he could hence kiss those inviting pink lips that wrapped eagerly around his. He was definitely too dressed, he needed to feel her fur on his skin; he quickly got rid of his jacket and shirt and the first contact against the tiger coat was pure bliss, he couldn’t help but groan in response to that feeling and his own growing erection. The woman pecked quickly his jaw and made sure to caress every inch of his body with her furred limbs, helping the man out of his slacks to do so.
With one of her legs between his, strategically high enough to rub against his hard-on, and the other wrapped around his left side, the two of them rocked against each other. She was holding his buttocks firmly, scratching his skin lightly with her longer nails, while he had sneaked a hand between her legs and was now rubbing her labia and stimulating her clit, to thank her for lending herself to all this, whoever she was. The fur felt heavenly against his throbbing and sensitive cock, he wasn’t going to last much longer. The woman’s breath hitched when she felt her orgasm building, she actually dug her claws deeper in his soft flesh, making him cry out in pain and pleasure when he finally released and some of his load spurted on the tiger-like fur.
The man knelt down and brought the woman closer to the edge of the bed, spreading her legs wider apart and burying his face between her soft curls, turned the same color of the rest of the fur; he started lapping at her already wet folds, making her squirm and moan erratically as she got closer to climax without even engaging a full intercourse with White Tiger, as she called him in her head. With a hard squeeze to the deep green comforter, she came with a strangled cry and abandoned herself on the bed, letting the man pecking her inner thighs before he helped her under the covers and laid next to her, a secure arm wrapped around her and the soothing gesture of nuzzling her nape.
“Thank you,” he whispered, lazily stroking her body. She shivered when his hand caressed her thigh and his tentative second erection was pressing against her back.