#which means he serves the utmost cunt!

[inhidingxoxo3637]

Ah the irony in hindsight

2022 MotoGP Ducati bike leaked

[dilucbabe]

filthy

pairing: overhaul x fem!reader rating: m themes: priest kink, dubcon/noncon, emotional manipulation, spit kink, explicit sexual content, degradation, misogyny word count: 1.75k ao3 - request

His gloved fingers glide over your own, a smile adorning his lips. Funny, how such a simple gesture can mean so much to someone like Kai. It’s obviously no secret how uncomfortable he is with people showing their entitlement in thinking they’re allowed to come near his vicinity - to rub their filthy hands over him as if he merely stood on display. But it wasn’t just about the audacity that they showed with their thoughtless actions, far more, it was about the control that they took from him.

Kai is a man of action, a man of God. Someone who shows action and takes fate into his own hand, pulling it if needed. Not someone who lets things happen to him. He isn’t weak like that and he’d rather die than become so pathetic. His mission in life is to shield the weak ones from temptation and sin, to guide them to the right path, even if it means becoming forceful. Some might call him cruel, but truth be told, the perception of others is as important as the non-existent dirt under his fingernails. The only thing that truly matters that he obeyed the Allmighty, the church.

“Father?”, your voice is laced with sleep, eyes not yet open and Kai feels his heart stir at the sight alone. “Hmm, did something happen?” The innocence in the statement alone feels like pure gasoline to the flame that is his desire for you. Funny, how such a simple gesture can drive a man like Kai Chisaki to the brink of madness.

You’d come to the monastery on a rainy night, wet hair clinging to your frightened little face as you begged with utmost sincerity, “Please, father. I have nowhere to go. I- I need your guidance.”

You had practically breathed your plea, hands desperately clawing at your coat, the wet fabric doing nothing to shield you from the cold. If he were a different man, he would have felt his demeanour melt away, but he had remained strong. “Guidance, child?”

You cast your gaze away from him, shame bringing a pretty glow to your cheeks. “I’m a horrible woman. I-“, your bottom lip quivered, looking up at you with such over the top sorrow, it almost seemed comical. Almost. “I have seduced men without meaning to. I really didn’t, you have to believe me! Satan himself must reside within me!”

“First and foremost”, he had remained firm in his stance, albeit a bit more tense, though he couldn’t quite tell why. “There is nothing I have to do, aside from serving our Lord in Heaven. Not aid you, nor believe you.”

A high pitched squeal slipped past your chapped lips, clasping your hand over your mouth as though you had spoken out of turn. “I- Please-!”

“Still, you are in luck that God wouldn’t let me permit to turn my back on a poor sinner, so accepting of their own sins.”

It was, for the lack of a better word for it, thrilling to hear you beg like that, he remembers. It still is. Desperation and fear for condemnation – for punishment – has always been a big motivator for Kai. Instilling fear of what is good and righteous had always seemed like his one true calling, planting a seed of shame and guilt within people’s minds, to infest it and exorcise all evil from their very souls. A most gratifying experience he thanks the Lord every night in prayer.

Yet when it comes to you, he feels something stir inside of him. Maybe it is something akin to excitement, maybe it was hunger, maybe mere curiosity. Whatever it may be, he knows that it can only mean evil. What else could it be? You yourself have admitted upon being corrupted by the Devil, so he is but a man standing in the face of corruption.

Kai feels his pulse quicken, your legs spread open as though you are simply begging for him to be defiled by you. And who knows? Maybe you are. It wouldn’t be the first time, he’d caught your eyes taking his form with heaving bosom and wide eyes. Revolting slut that you are.

“Father?” He can see you trembling and he can feel himself swell with something akin to pride.

A cold smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, tugs at the corners of his lips, his hands now on your thighs, holding them in place. Even through his gloves, he can tell how warm you are to the touch – a temptation, if there ever was one. Though you might look the innocent maiden, he can see for what you truly are and maybe his purpose was to punish you for it, to set you right. Indeed, filling your hole with his seed might even cleanse you from all the filth of your very core.

God is on his side, he’s certain of it. He’d forgive his obedient servant’s sin if it meant saving a soul from the eternal flames of Satan. There simply is no other way.

Your eyes widen, any trace of exhaustion wiped clean from your face. “Please, no… I don’t want to-“

“Hush”, his fingers dig deep into your flesh, the promise of bruises blooming on your skin, making his cock stir. “You know that lying is a sin, don’t you? Let alone to a man of faith.”

Tears threaten to spill down your cheeks at any moment, hands desperately clawing at the covers Kai’s sitting on, trying to cover yourself, to no avail. “P- Please…”

“I didn’t ask you to beg. I asked you a question and I expect an answer.” He’s wedging himself between your legs now, knees pressing them apart, while his hands easily get a hold of your wrists, holding them in place. How come your words express such dread, when your body is so easy – so willing – to get overpowered by him? Even if you don’t quite realize it yourself, your mind is clouded with lies and sin. “Let’s try this again”, he pauses. “You’re aware that lying to a man of faith in considered a sin, yes?”

A slow nod. “Yes, father.”

“And although you should know better, you still actively choose to disobey the word from our Lord, yes?”

“It’s not a lie!” Even though your whole body is violently trembling with pitiful sobs, Kai can’t quite help it, but be in awe of your form. You make such a perfect victim, he’s sure, any artist would compare you to the likes of Mary and Joan d’Arc – suffering for the greater good. Although, of course, he knows you better than to fall prey to your manipulation.

Pressing your balled up fists against his cock, he snarls in pure disdain, “Don’t play coy with me. Do you think I’m blind to your lust? Do you think yourself a victim to the attention of men you so desperately seek out?”

You flinch upon contact, though Kai notes, how you momentarily halt your wails, a faint squeal escaping you. He wonders, is that still part of the act that you’re trying to keep up or if you’re rightfully in stunned at the size of him. He grows harder just thinking about burying himself to the hilt inside your vile cunt. “N- no! Father, I never meant to- to-“

“For me to notice?”, he snaps and by the shock written all across your features he knows that he’s right. “You perverted whore.”

“It was never my intention to seduce you! I’m not lying! I swear, the Lord is my witness, I-“

Thwack. The sting on your cheek is relentless, but it’s a necessary evil. You have to learn how to behave, that there are consequences to your misdeeds, even if he has to beat it into you. “How dare you use the Lord’s name to spout all this nonsense”, it’s no question, but a statement. “I have no patience for whores with silver tongues.”

Kai leans over you, holding your wrists over your head, relishing in the sight of you being completely at his mercy. Your meek hiccups did nothing but spur him on even further, solidifying his decision in cleansing you free. “I’m so- sorry. You were so kind to me and took me under your wing when I needed help and- and I just…”

You squirm under his ever so watchful eyes. “Filthy thing”, his fingers enclose around your jaw, fingers forcing your lips to pucker open and spits. “To think giving you shelter would be enough was foolish of me, but we know better now, don’t we? You’re in need of drastic measures and it is me who has to whip you into shape. But fear not, I will not falter to bring you to the light side. I’ll fuck the virtue into you if I need to.”

It all happens so fast, you can barely keep up. One moment he hikes up the skirt of your frilly, little nightgown, chilly air hitting your exposed skin, the next he’s pumping his leaking cock right in front of your pussy lips. You try with all your strength – which admittedly, isn’t a lot – to get away from him, but he’s a strong man. And you should already know, shouldn’t you? Haven’t you spent night and night again, admiring his physique when he so graciously read the bible for you? Haven’t you fantasized about those very arms holding your naked body against his as he’d plunge into you in rapid speed? He’s right, you muse, you’re nothing but a common slut.

“God forgive me”, he groans and gets to work.

Funny, how such innocent glances can lead to such thorough punishment. Or was it redemption at last? You can’t tell anymore – too lost in the feelings of his palm, striking your thighs, face, tits; his hips clashing into your own with such force, it’s hard not to wince from pain; his stern look casting down at you and promising both salvation and damnation. Filthy thing, you repeat in your head, filthy, filthy, filthy. You should be grateful a man of God deems you worthy of his attention, let alone his cock.

Your insides are burning and your lungs feel like they might give out any minute, too exhausted from all the sobbing and crying, but Kai stays relentless. “Father, please”, you plead.

His response is sinister, but you know, a filthy thing like you deserves it. “Patience is a virtue”, he pants. “But what would you know about virtue?”

And he’s right.

[butchhamlet]

i’m realizing i just rattled these off without rationale. and nobody needs the rationale because it should be obvious that i’m right. but here it is just in case

1. i know i’m the only person alive under the age of thirty who likes this play but i don’t need to back this one up. she ran an entire kingdom and raised multiple children while serving the utmost cunt of any shakespearean woman and having GNC as fuck swagger. even her haters give speeches about how mesmerizing she is. there’s a guy who doesn’t even LIKE her who goes on about how her appearance on the river was so incredible that the winds and sea fell in love with her boat. did i mention she pegged mark antony so hard that it ruined his entire life and also hers and also the roman republic

2. NOBODY is doing it like edmund kinglear he’s got all the manipulative skill of iago with NONE of the racism or nerd bitch urge to Stop And Think Before He Acts. this guy performs subterfuge basically on a whim and it WORKS and he fucks TWO of the lear sisters and probably also every single servant with information he can use. nearly became king of england by the sheer power of wit, people skills, swagger, and thinking fast. plus he’s ALL about self-determination and i love a man who resists predestination and hates astrology. also he’s trans which makes everybody indubitably hotter

3. richard iii seduced his wife over the dead body of one of her family members. she wanted to kill him at the start of the scene and he pulled it off. what are the kids saying these days. insane rizz. also i jsut KNOW from everything about him that he has a giant d[gunshot]

4. this one is very simple. i need a woman who is mean. i need a woman who is mean and scary and GNC and sooooo so capable. her husband KILLED A GUY ON HER URGING and yes i’m of the reading that he wanted to anyway but it was HER influence that got him to do it. every line she has is a straight fucking banger. i don’t care about the handwashing babygirl i do it too i’ve got hand cream

5. maybe it’s sacrilegious of me to put goneril over regan because only one of the lear sisters engages in a usually-erotically-charged torture scene with her equally deranged husband. but then again, only one of the lear sisters managed to kill the other one, so. i don’t know why i’m so partial to her but she’s sooooo sexy to me. and i need to say it because she needs SOMEONE on her team. rough life out here being the least liked person in a play full of snakes

runner-up: i’m a tragedies guy and characters from the tragedies tend to have more flair and depth imo (not ALWAYS, just, like, as a rule). but i couldn’t leave beatrice off this list because i’m in love with her. i don’t need to back this up literally go read her lines

Top 5 hottest Shakespeare characters

cleopatra

edmund kinglear

richard iii

lady macbeth

goneril kinglear

first runner-up is beatrice muchadoaboutnothing <3

[aliveanddrunkonsunlight]

physical touch - jaime

Jaime x Brienne + love languages based off @observedchaos post

NSFW

For @naomignome and specially dedicated to @forbiddenfantasies1

*

Riverrun

Negotiations with the Blackfish are at a stalemate. 

This was a thrice damned stupid mission anyway. Emmon Frey could not command a mouse. Perhaps Jaime could install Aunt Genna in his place. 

“There’s the Tarth woman,” Daven suggests as a last resort. The sun is starting to set and Jaime was expecting to pick up negotiations the next day, but he perks up hearing her name. 

“Yes, bring her. Now.” Brienne is the one who convinced Catelyn and Robb Stark that they might get more out of him if he wasn’t held in a dank cell for a year. Being able to bathe, change into clean clothes, and eat regular meals did not do much for the Starks in the long run, but it served him quite well. He tries to swallow the smirk stretching across his face.

When Brienne is delivered to his tent, he has an assortment of food laid out across the table. “I’ve heard Riverrun’s sources have been severely depleted, so I thought you might wish for a real meal.” 

There’s almost a snarl in her voice when she replies, “I am well fed, ser.” Her stomach quickly betrays her, letting out a loud growl. 

He bites back a laugh, gesturing at the table. “Have a seat. Would you care for some wine?” He is already tipping the jug towards her cup when she covers the goblet with her hand and wine splashes across her skin. It runs down her arm, a red splotch appearing on the sleeve of her tunic. Jaime apologizes for his clumsiness, sitting down beside her, and taking her hand in his own to carefully clean it with a napkin soaked in water. Glancing up, her blue eyes burn into his, a different kind of hunger building there. Good. When her hand is washed clean, he slowly stands, stepping behind her chair and leans over her shoulder, mouth near her ear. “Should we get you out of this shirt? It will stain, my lady.” 

Brienne makes a choked noise in her throat. “You are in quite a hurry, ser.”

“Am I? Perhaps the letters you wrote have not sated me.” The familiar blush rises in her cheeks. “Did mine sate you, my lady?” his voice dips low, breath along the back of her neck. 

“Not as well as your mouth, my lord.” Jaime lets out a delighted laugh because gods, he has missed her. She pushes back her chair and then steps into him, their bodies colliding. It is fierce and harsh, teeth and tongues, and the familiar fire burns in his belly.

His hand fists in her hair as she nips and nuzzles at his neck. “Do you have, ahh,” he sucks in a breath over his teeth. “A proposed offer?”

She chuckles against him, lips buzzing along the column of his throat. “After,” she hisses, biting down on a tendon in his throat. 

“Fuck,” he breathes in sharply through his nose. Jaime loves the marks she leaves. They may be stuck on opposite sides of this war, but they are well-suited at discovering all of the ways they can still lay claim to the other. Brienne sucks at the skin, tongue darting out to soothe the bite. 

When she pulls away, Jaime presses a bruising kiss to her mouth, knocking them back towards the table, where a dish crashes to the ground. They both freeze, expecting one of Jaime’s guards to rush in and catch them in each other’s arms. But no one comes. 

“I suppose I should talk to my guard,” he finally says. “It seems they want me dead.” 

Brienne laughs. “Maybe it was only loud to us.”

“They will have no doubt about who is being loud in a few minutes, my lady.” 

“If you mean yourself…” she trails off, a playful look in her eyes which stuns him speechless before he is kissing her again and guiding her towards his desk. 

Brienne perches on the edge, widening her legs so he can stand in between them, untying the laces of her tunic and leaving a mark of his own along her collarbone. She runs her fingers through his hair, his head bent intently to his work when she wraps her legs around him, pulling him close enough to feel the heat of her cunt. He moans against her skin and she rocks her hips against him, the hard ridge of his cock digging into her thigh. “My lady,” he breathes, her movements forcing him to momentarily stop his admiration of her freckles, her skin.  

Her hands fall quickly to the laces on his breeches. “You did not let me finish my meal,” she chides him. His trousers pool around his ankles and Brienne’s tongue darts out to wet her lips. Seven hells. “Perhaps I am still hungry.” Her eyes travel up to his as she takes his cock in her hand. 

“Brienne,” Jaime hisses. “Not here.” The desk is directly across from the opening of the tent and anyone could see, but there is a chair and an area underneath which would be hidden from view. “You test me,” he murmurs against her lips, catching her in an open-mouth, hurried kiss. Tugging at her wrist, he brings her around the desk, gesturing to the space underneath. 

“You do like to play games.” But she obeys him, fitting herself into the space. Seeing what she is willing to go through to be with him only makes him want her more and by the time he moves his chair closer and finally sits down, he is nearly crawling out of his skin. 

There is less light streaming through the tent now with the sun dipping below the horizon, but Brienne more than makes up for it with touch, taste, and feel. She smoothes her hands over his thighs, trying to relax and soothe the tension from his muscles, a sweet gesture that she has to know she will undo in minutes. Her thumb strokes along the underside of his cock, his whole body reacting to her touch. already prepared to slide under the desk with her. He can make out the lightness of her hair, her pale skin as she flicks her tongue across the head, making him clench his ass against the wooden chair, a contented yes already falling from his lips. When she finally takes him in her mouth, he grasps the arms of the chair and stifles a groan. 

He can easily imagine the pleased look on her face, her head bobbing up and down his length, the wet pop as she releases him. There is a deep inhalation of breath in the moment before she takes all of him in. Her other hand caresses and gently squeezes his balls, causing his hips to thrust towards her. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles, hand reaching for her hair, fingertips running gently through it. 

Her breath is hot along his shaft, tongue darting out to taste him. “Wait,” she nudges at the back of his knees, her strong hands pulling him towards the edge of the chair. It feels precarious, but he trusts her. She presses a kiss to the top of his thigh. “Try again.” 

This time when she takes him in her mouth, it unleashes a growl at the back of his throat. His fingers fan out along her jaw, feeling it move as she does, wet and warm around him. “May I?” She nods and his eyelids flutter closed as he thrusts forward. “You are so good, so good,” he murmurs, getting closer and closer as he slides in and nearly all the way out of her mouth, hand grasping at her hair when he thinks she is going to let go of him completely. Brienne murmurs in understanding and the buzz of her mouth sends shivers up his spine. 

All of it is so much better than what he imagines when he reads her letters, much more satisfying than when he takes himself in hand, trying to remember what she felt like wrapped around him, what she tastes like when he is buried in her cunt. 

The heat in his stomach unspools faster now, in time with her mouth and his hips twitching against her. His muscles tighten in the moment before, begging, “Now, now” and then he is spilling into her mouth. She hums as she licks him clean and when she emerges from the darkness of the desk, the corner of her mouth ticks up into a satisfied smile. “I’ve missed you.” His muscles feel like putty but he reaches for her. He will always reach for her, no matter how many enemy lines he has to cross. 

“I should go back,” Brienne tells him softly. 

He shakes his head, thumb stroking the inside of her wrist. “Not if you spent the whole night negotiating.” 

A pleased expression crosses her face as she bends her head to kiss him. “If that is what it takes.” 

“It most certainly does.” 

*

When he wakes next to her in the early light of dawn, they have come to no better solution. He peppers her neck with kisses, waking her slowly, gently, until the two of them are moving together once again. 

If he is to send the Tullys to the Rock, she will travel with them and he will return to King’s Landing. He clings to her tightly, knowing it may be the last moment for some time, trying to memorize her, so he may carry her with him somehow. 

“What if…” she says, lying next to him, hand tracing down his chest. “We use the Stark girls to negotiate.” 

“How? We do not have them.” 

“We could. You and I.” The promise they each made to Catelyn, which Brienne tried to get him to uphold when she returned him to King’s Landing. Her generous offer to travel with her, a way for him to escape the city for even longer. He had wanted to then, but even more so now. 

Jaime covers her hand with his own, fingertips circling over the rough skin of her knuckles.“I could not hold the men here.” 

“Then send them onwards, to Pennytree or Blackwood or wherever you are ordered to go next. Daven can command them.” It sounds so simple coming from her, such an honorable plan, but there will be questions he will have to face. She is worth it. 

“If this works, my lady, you will forever have my utmost respect.” 

Her eyes flash. “I did not already?” She clicks her tongue as she sits up and swings her leg across his hips. “That will not do, Lord Commander.” 

As she runs her hands up his chest, he is already coming apart at the seams. “You do. Brienne, you do.” 

*

Author’s Note: This could work in place of show s7 tent scene, but I was thinking of it as a canon divergent possibility in the books, where Jaime and Brienne’s trip to KL results in them having a relationship and then Brienne returns to the Tullys rather than seeking out Sansa on her own. So read it whichever way most appeals to you!

[hermionetickledthedragon]

Milking

~ 

Draco had been a milkman his whole life. His entire family -from his ancestors from ancient Rome to his father- had the same legacy. He loved his cows, his entire life has been about them, he knew how to take care of them with the utmost care he knew when they were happy and when they were sad, when they were to be fed with water and when with grass. Draco had never gotten the opportunity of going to school or making friends or a lover but his cows had taught him so much and had been with him for so long he had never felt the need for either of these things until he met Hermione Granger.

Like a usual Sunday morning routine, he was milking his cows and he heard her soft, caramel voice call out for him, "Oh, what fine work you do taking care of these cows" even her voice sent him shivers.

To say that she was a beauty was an understatement. Her milky white skin was gleaming in the sunlight. She rose her arm to swipe a drop of sweat from her forehead and her blouse gave the view of her plump bust which made him imagine sinuous things. At one glance he knew they would fit perfectly in his hands. He wanted to slam her delicate frame against the door of his barn and fuck her into oblivion. He wanted her tiny hands wrapped around his cock giving the release that he only now realized he needed.

Fuck he was going to hell for this.

He was snapped out of his heinous thoughts by her innocent voice, she said, "I wonder..." She stepped closer to him and put her petite finger in her mouth, biting her lip. He immediately felt the need to replace her finger with his.

Draco led on, "what do you wonder?"

She blinked her eyes like an angel from heaven and took his palm and examined it like it was the first hand she had ever seen, "I wonder what other things this palm can do, ?"

Draco was speechless. He felt the tip of her cock moisten at each of her words. Not so innocent after all, well, two can play this game, he thought to himself.

Draco spoke, "Well, there's no need to wonder when you can find out yourself, darling"

Hermione smiled playfully and retorted, "Do you mean you will show me how to milk the cows?"

Draco laughed, oh the little angle had some devil in her after all, "Well, sure if you want to but I assure you they can milk other things than cows, muffin"

Now it was Hermione's chance to be baffled but hell if she was going to show it. She walked even closer and brushed herself against his lean body and whispered in his ears,

"Then what are we waiting for, my sir" and he couldn't take it anymore.

He picked her and she yelped in surprise, she put her arms around his neck as he carried her to the barn. Draco had never run so fast in his life. He reached the barn and laid her and himself on the hay. He felt himself being rock hard against her body as he watched her golden nipples exposed while she panted heavily, her barely-there blouse only serving an ornamental purpose now. She blushed as she felt his erection, her sweating face now also red and stout. He leaned down and Hermione parted her lips, he took her inviting lips in her mouth, and the taste of her lips silenced nearly all his thoughts. She tasted like ripe strawberries. The warm feeling of his mouth crashed into Hermione, curling her toes, unfurling her senses as her entire body tingled just from a kiss. He kissed his way and nuzzled into her neck, he bit a particular spot above her collarbone and she moaned deliciously, "Oh my-", impossibly making Draco's cock even harder, he felt an in-comprehensive sense of pride when she continued to make that sound as he relentlessly the area of her neck, marking it as his own.

Draco gradually lowered down from her neck and kissed the V between her bosom. He inhaled her essence and it smelled so sweet like fucking vanilla. Her sublime smell drove him into madness and he moaned as he continued to lick the same spot between her tits, again and again. He told her, "Fuck, you smell divine".

Draco moved his mouth to her breasts and circled the outline of her nipples with his fingers, he added pressure and started flicking the peak of both her nipples, Hermione shut her eyes close begged him to finally give her the release that she craved so much.

"Please, Draco" She begged innocently almost in whispers tightening her hands around his neck.

He took her hands and put them over her head. He abruptly took her nipple in mouth and she screamed in both joy and pain, he licked the lower part and breathed slowly on the nub of her orb. She wanted to dig her nails into his shoulders but her hands were above her hand, confined by his tight grip on them. She begged for some kind of control over her body as he relentlessly tugged at her nipples with his mouth making her cry out lustfully. She whispered, "Oh, Hades, I'm gonna come, Merlin" Draco looked into her eyes, wanting to see her reaction, she blushed and looked away from his salacious gaze, continuing to moan.

"Look at me, Hermione," Draco said softly, Hermione hesitated but looked into his eyes, the look of pleasure in her eyes was enough to make him come in his pants, two more flicks of his expert tongue and Hermione came undone.

Draco trailed his tongue down to her navel and heat rose from Hermione's stomach to her chest, he touched her knickers to find them drenched with her arousal, he grabbed the fabric and ripped it apart. He placed small, sweet kisses along her right thigh, she arched her back, pushing herself into his face. He spread her legs and buried his face in her crotch. He swiped his tongue from bottom to top, the length of her pussy causing a shudder to radiate through her body, for a moment it seemed like she almost climaxed. Steadily and firmly, he licked her over and over again, pulling his tongue away just shy of her clitoris. He continued his torturous ministrations, just as she was about to come Draco moved his face away from her pussy, Hermione let out a cry of disappointment.

Draco quickly unbuttoned his pants to release his cock, he bent down and kissed her passionately, taking her breath away, slowly he entered her quivering mess of a cunt and registered an agonizingly slow pace, lightly hitting her sweet spot every time he thrust. Hermione craved the orgasm which he was beholding from her, she, again and again, arched her back to signal for him to move faster.

Purely agonized and frustrated Hermione begged him, "Please faster Draco"

"Your wish is my command, Love" He finally decided to stop his torturous pace, and with both his hands on her hips he plunged into her belly, driving hard, she screamed his name. He pounded into her relentlessly, her cunt perfectly milking his cock. She grabbed his face and kissed his mouth as he continued to pleasure her, she moaned when she tasted herself on his tongue. They both lost themselves in each other, moaning, screaming, grunting, yelling, and groaning with each thrust.

Hermione had no sense of what was going around her she only knew her who was giving her what no man had ever been capable enough of giving her. Draco was head over heels with this stranger who was unlike any other woman he had ever met.

After a few final thrusts, they both came together inside each other. Draco removed his cock from her core and she released a painful yelp, he fell beside her and kissed her cheek softly. They both were heavily panting, the moment was surreal. Hermione felt buzzed, there was an electrical feeling inside her belly that stung and felt good at the same time. She could not believe that the man beside her, a milkman, had made her feel this way and sent her to the moon and brought her back. Fuck she was in trouble.

Draco, a milkman, was a simple man and considered himself practical and a realist, he had never believed that the tales of love were true, the story of Persephone, Romeo, and Juliet, but now as he was lying beside the woman he loved he felt each and every feeling described in those pretentious plays and myths.

He asked her playfully, "My dear Hermione, have I cleared your doubts about my capabilities with my hand?"

Hermione chuckled and replied, "Oh you have wooed me with them"

~

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𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨'𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐬𝐞. ~ 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐩 ✨ ~ ⚠️𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄⚠️ ~ 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 @hermionetickledthedragon​

[totalconway]

Burning Bridges at Christmas...I think

Christmas is by far my favourite time of year! I like all the good will towards man, the spirit of giving, Santa Claus and all that shit. The best part for me is being able to watch Christmas movies and not have to worry about the month I’m watching it in. 

One particular Christmas was special because after less than 2 years of doing Stand Up comedy I was invited to perform at the Sydney Comedy Store for their end of year Christmas shows. This was a huge honour for me because working through the open mic scene in Perth, the feeling amongst the comedians was that being invited to perform at the Sydney Comedy Store was the same as becoming a ‘Made Man’ in a gangster movie, it was the highest honour you could obtain. 

When I got the invitation I was travelling through Port Headland on a 5 week mining tour performing to some of the roughest crowds that I have ever performed for. They weren’t bad crowds, they were just tough and my skill level was not ready to perform for an audience that had just finished a 12 hour shift and just wanted to sit in silence with a few beers and dream of the day they can return home to their families and jet ski’s.

Comedy in my opinion has a lot in common with Shawshank Prison, to get good at it you have to crawl through five football fields of shit and hopefully come out somewhat talented on the other side. At this point in my career I was nowhere it, I was still chiseling through the wall and learning the craft wishing that one day I could get even close to the shit pipes. 

These mining tours however fast tracked my learning and after 2 weeks on the road I learnt that I was well and truly crawling through the shit pipes. Weeks of bombing in front of miners was a depressing experience made even worse by the fact I couldn’t drown my sorrows because all the mine sites we performed at were Mid strength mine sites. Drowning your sorrows with mid strength alcohol is like trying to combat your heroin addiction with milk shakes.

One of the stops of the mining tour was Port Headland. A massive shit hole to most people, for me it was my favourite part of the tour purely for the fact that my Vodafone phone would get reception and I was able to check my missed calls and emails. During our drive through Port Headland my spirits were lifted when I received an email from the Sydney Comedy Store inviting me to perform for their Christmas shows. I was ecstatic and told the guys I was touring with that after this mining tour I would be heading to Sydney to perform at the Comedy Store. In unison they all looked at each other with a look I can only describe as “How the fuck is this guy getting a gig at the Comedy Store”. In reality they probably didn’t give a shit that I would be making $50 a night when they were going to be making thousands of dollars doing cruise ships or whatever they had planned. Whatever they thought I didn’t care, in my mind I was finally going to become a ‘Made Man’.

In the Perth open mic scene, I was best mates with a group of guys who would regularly fly over to Sydney to perform at the Comedy Store. Lucky for me they gave me the inside scoop on what to do when you get there, how to conduct yourself, essentially performing at the Comedy Store has the same rules as performing anywhere “Try not to be shit, and don’t be a cunt” pretty easy rules to follow. Being shit can be subjective but it’s pretty obvious if someone is being a cunt and in most places it won’t be tolerated. The Comedy Store is one of those places. I know a story of a comedian who managed to worm his way in to perform at the Comedy Store and got banned for snapping his fingers at the bar staff trying to get served like he was a Wall Street guy at Hooters. I know the comedian and he’s got that spoilt little rich kid demeanor kinda like Joffery in Game of Thrones except more cunty.

Now a little back story before I get into the next part, when I was starting out the group of friends I hung with would always bust each others balls in the most fake macho bravado way possible. Someone would say “Don’t be shit tonight” and they would respond “I’ll kill you cunt” and they would respond “I’ll bash your whole family”. Writing it out now sounds terrible but that’s how it was and  everyone would always laugh and joke when we did it. I was still new and incredibly naive, I thought I had stumbled across some secret “In” joke that only professional comedians knew and not just a running joke amongst the 10 open mic comedians I would regularly perform with.

I flew over to Sydney with hope in my heart and some ‘insider’ tips on how to fit in with the crew there. I remember one of the main things I was really looking forward to was seeing my name in the big bright lights on the Sydney Comedy Store. The sign that would shine out to let the world know I was a legit comedian worth seeing. I remember walking down the alley trying to act as cool as possible but really feeling giddy with excitement for the moment I’d see my name on that sign for the first time. I remember walking up with my eyes facing down, then I casually took a look up and my name was nowhere to be seen. They hadn’t put my name on the board! It didn’t really upset me but after 5 weeks of bombing on mine sites seeing my name in lights at the Sydney Comedy Store would have been a nice bit of sugar for my ego. 

The reason why my name wasn’t on the board is because I was doing a two week run and unless you’re a superstar they only put your name up for the second week of your run, so I still got my name in lights and got a few happy snaps for the memory book.

One piece of advice I got for when you start out at the Comedy Store was to bring a bottle of Jamieson and some cigarettes to drink with the staff afterwards. The staff at the Comedy Store were the guys you wanted to be hanging with after the show, there was no real professional networking reason for this, they were just cool people to hang out with. So I made sure to bring two bottles of Jamieson and 2 packs of smokes, not only for the staff but also as a sacrifice to the Comedy Gods to let them know I was taking this opportunity seriously. As it turned out it wasn’t a big enough sacrifice because I bombed for 2 weeks straight. I knew it was bad, but it didn’t sink in at how bad it was until the Booker called me after the second or third gig to say that I should just do my Raw Comedy set. I was devastated, I called up my friends in Perth to ask what I should do and they said they didn’t know. They had never received a phone call from a Booker like that before, they also laughed in my face which is always humbling. In their defence I would of done the same thing. 

I decided to put my head down and try to fix what I had, and I managed to turn my shit shows from bad to just kinda bad. 

Despite the shows going badly it was still a worth while experience. I became good mates with the staff and I’m still mates with them today. After every gig we would hang out and drink, smoke and talk shit. The 2 week run was awesome because I became mates with the other comedians as well who were a mix of TV and radio stars and guys who were on the cusp of becoming the next TV and radio stars. 

The biggest name on the line up was staying at the same hotel as me. I was told by everyone he’s the nicest dude in comedy and he’s the sort of dude that would do anything for you, the utmost gentlemen. So I decided to walk back to the hotel with him one night. I don’t know whether it was the Jamieson or the weed but I thought i’m going to let him know that I know the "In” jokes that all comedians know (still blissfully unaware this is just a shitty joke amongst open micers in Perth). So we were walking and chatting and we came across a house party and I turned to him and said “We should go in there”. He said “Why would we do that” and I said “I don’t know, to bash em”. He looked at me like what the fuck are you talking about, but in my mind he’s throwing me lob balls to hit out of the park. Then he said “Dude why would we go in there and bash them”. At this point I’ve finished the joke so him asking me why would we bash them?, felt like he was testing me by taking me into deep water where I’d have to riff my way out, so I said the funniest thing I could think of and I said “because we’re from the streets”. I think the rest of the walk home was probably a lot more awkward for him than it was for me.

We got to the hotel, shook hands and went our separate ways. I didn’t think anything of it until I was in Melbourne a few months later and I was sitting with a group of comedians in the artist bar and he walked in. He went around the table shaking everyone’s hand with a big smile on his face and came to me and  shakes my hand but looks at me like I’m the biggest piece of shit in the world. I’m trying to think if I had bumped into him already at this festival (I may have had a few big nights with one or two blackouts at that festival) and made a cunt of myself. I thought surely he’s not mad at the “We’re from the streets” comment? it was clearly a joke, that couldn’t be it. Then I thought it might have been because I put on such an amateur performance at the Comedy Store but that couldn’t be it either because I saw him shaking hands with comedians who are way shitter than me like that fucking Joffery cunt. So it must have been the “because we’re from the streets” line. (which I find funny) I’ve bombed in rooms where the Booker doesn’t want me back on the line up again but I’ve never bombed a conversation to the point where the person never wanted to see me again (Excluding first dates). 

I haven’t seen him since the Melbourne International Comedy Festival, I mean I have seen him he’s fucking everywhere but hopefully we can cross paths again and I can remind him where we come from- The Motherfucking Streets!

I’ve been back to the Comedy Store in Sydney numerous times since and have had some amazing gigs. Once opening for Eddie Ifft and Tony Hinchliffe both from the USA. Even though the staff from the first gig there have moved on to bigger things, I still make a point of bringing a bottle of Jamieson and Cigarettes as my sacrifice to the Comedy Gods and to spread some Christmas cheer no matter what time of year.