#lesson 3

[mrsjellymunson]

The Biology Tutor

Lesson 3: Human Reproduction

Series masterlist

Prev parts: Lesson 1: Female anatomy Lesson 2: Male anatomy Extra Credits 01: Communication skills Extra Credits 02: French Independent Study 01: Art Independent Study 02: Creative Writing

Pairing: virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!tutor!reader

Series summary: Eddie’s failing Biology class, so you decide to offer two different styles of tuition, textbook-based and *ahem* practical.

Chapter summary: Grades, feelings, and a practical lesson in human reproduction

WC: ~14.6K (oopsie/I’m not sorry/you’re welcome)

C/W: 18+, SMUT, NSFW, MDNI! Fluff, smut, fluffy smut, smutty fluff, fingering, clit stim, nipple play (M+F rec), p in v sex (protection is discussed; always wrap it irl), pantie stealing (consensual), aftercare, feelings, slight cream pie, brief mention of food and eating, reader wears a short skirt, Wayne Munson. I’ve tried to keep physical descriptions of reader as neutral as possible, lmk if I need to change anything. 

My masterlist

You and Eddie have decided it’s best if you keep your whatevership between the two of you, at least for now. Neither your friends nor family would be thrilled to discover you were giving ‘extracurricular attention’ to the boy the whole town regards as a lawbreaking freak. (Technically, you suppose he is actually both - weed dealing and his general style and demeanour make that statement factually correct, but you don’t see him in the negative way they do.) Furthermore, your teacher may be reluctant to come through on those agreed upon extra credits if he finds out that the lessons you’re offering veer significantly more towards the ‘practical’. So, keeping it on the down-low it is. 

However, that hasn’t stopped you from thinking about your study sessions with Eddie. In fact, he’s on your mind almost constantly. You’ve also both become more brazen in your interactions, and neither of you look away now when you catch each other’s eye in the halls. And you’ll both stare dreamily and smile across the cafeteria as he nibbles on pretzels and you mull over a thorny problem in a notebook, chewing on the end of your pencil.

You’ve spoken on the phone again too. For the most part it’s just as… stimulating as the first time, if not more so, and you're both gaining confidence and are able to articulate your needs and desires with increasingly elaborate and creative language. But to your surprise you’ve also ended up chatting too, and more than once you’ve devolved into fits of hysterical giggles. You’ve never been able to be so open with a partner before, and you’re revelling in the intimacy.

But, he’s not your partner partner. You didn’t mean it like that. You’re fully aware of Eddie’s… situation, and you’re pretty sure he’s not ready for any kind of official commitment. You really need to be careful with your language, or you're going to slip up one day and mess up whatever the hell this is…

On the day of your usual Biology class with Eddie, everyone’s milling around the science lab, waiting to get their test results. It’s the final class before the end of the semester, and Mr Clarke knows better than to expect anyone to do any work, so nobody’s in their seats and the room is filled with general murmur and chatter.

A steady stream of students collects their papers from Mr Clarke at his desk. Yours is near the top of the pile - you being you, you’re always one of the first to head up to find out how you did, and generally, the less… academically inclined students hang back until the end, wanting to delay the agony and prolong their blissful ignorance for as long as possible. 

Mr Clarke passes you your paper, and you spy a large, red ‘A+’ in the top corner. You pinch your face into a scrunched up smile, and you can feel your cheeks heating. Yes, it’s one of your favourite subjects, but you never want to assume anything.

“No surprises there!”, Mr Clarke jokes, as you proudly yet somewhat bashfully look over your work as you head back to your desk.

You’re dying to know how Eddie did, but presume he’s going to wait it out like the other ‘cool kids’, and you don’t really want to rub your success in his face in case it didn’t go well for him, so you slide back into your seat without looking in his direction.

A few moments later, there’s a sudden loud whoop from the front of the class. Everyone turns to face the clamour, and to your surprise you see Eddie standing next to Mr Clarke’s desk, arms aloft and eyes wide, grinning as he shakes his paper above his head like a Tusken Raider.

Wait, did you just make a nerd reference? What the fuck is this guy doing to you?

You try not to stare as Eddie’s gesticulations make his torn Iron Maiden shirt ride up to expose the smooth planes of his abdomen and the dark sprinkling of hair leading down beneath his waistb— You clamp your bottom lip between your teeth, this feat seemingly significantly more difficult for you than passing a science test.

He changes position, hunching over now, and punches the air with one fist, wrinkling his nose and baring his teeth as he stares down at the paper he’s crinkling in the fierce grip of his other hand.

“Yeah! Goddamn B minus! B fuckin’ minus, baby! Wooo!! I am fucking walking that stage, I can feel it!”

A few of your classmates start to clap, and soon most of the class is applauding Eddie, a few even joining in with the whoops and hollers. He bends at the waist and gives a theatrical bow, still grinning, much to the delight of the whole class.

Even Mr Clarke is clapping, ignoring Eddie’s profanity for once and with a broad smile on his face too. Eddie smiles back, extending his hand to the older man, who takes it happily, shaking it and slapping Eddie on his bicep as he says, 

“Congratulations, Mr Munson. I knew you could do it, son.”

Before you’re fully cognisant of what you’re doing, you’re out of your seat and rushing towards Eddie, colliding with his chest with a thump as you fling your arms around his ribs, hugging him tightly. He freezes for a moment, stunned, before his arms move around your shoulders, gripping you tightly, crushing the document even more, before his empty hand flattens over the centre of your back, gently but intensely rubbing up and down.

He drops his chin onto your shoulder, and turns his face so it’s nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You hear him take a couple of deep, slow inhales, and his warm breath fans out over your skin and trickles down the back of your shirt as he adds a contented hum that almost short-circuits your brain. Quietly, you mumble into his chest, 

“Congratulations, Eddie."

Just as quietly, almost like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear, Eddie replies, voice slightly cracking,

"I couldn't have done it without you, Princess…”

You remain there at the front of the class, embracing, rocking slightly, neither of you seemingly wanting to let go. Eddie's palm continues to make patterns on your back, and you keep your arms around his middle. The heat from his chest seeps into yours, and you begin to get lost in his heady scent of cigarettes, spicy cologne and weed, something so quintessentially Eddie.

Behind you, you hear Mr Clarke clear his throat, and you and Eddie break apart as he proclaims, 

“Well, I think that proves that the student-to-student tutoring project is a success! Well done, both of you. Okay, who’s next?”

Keen to minimise further attention from your classmates, you both make your way back to your seats. He sits behind his desk, and you pull your stool to face him over it. 

Eddie’s lab partner offers him a fist bump, adding, “Nice work, dude,” to which Eddie reciprocates and replies, “Thanks, man,” before the guy wanders off to chat to his friends across the room.

You and Eddie stare at each other across the workbench. All you seem to be able to do is grin goofily, and you see Eddie’s cheeks pinken to an even darker shade. Eventually, you manage to speak.

“Well done, Eddie. Seriously. I’m so proud of you, all your hard work paid off!”

He glances down at his paper again, seemingly needing to keep checking it to make sure it’s real, that he actually passed. A slightly incredulous look on his face, he replies, chuckling,

“Fuckin’ B minus. Wayne’s gonna wanna frame this shit, I swear!”

You bark out a laugh, before responding,

“You should let him. This is a big moment!”

You both laugh again before Eddie continues, more seriously this time,

“I meant what I said, you know. I couldn’t’ve done this without your help.”

“I appreciate that, thank you. You know I wouldn’t’ve done it if I didn’t want to, though, right?”

“I know, I know. I just wanted you to know how grateful I am, is all…”

His face suddenly drops, and his eyes fall to the tabletop as he says, more quietly,

“Uh… I guess this means we won’t be studying anymore though, right?”

Something twists in your stomach. You hadn’t considered that this might change things. Thoughts roil in your mind. You don’t want whateverthisis with Eddie to end, that’s for certain, and from his tone you surmise that’s not what he wants either. So you make him an offer.

“Oh, I don’t know, I think I could go for at least one more lesson. Call it a celebration! If you wanted to, that is?”

You’ve barely finished your sentence before Eddie’s almost-yelling, 

“Yeah! I mean, yes, if you want to as well, I mean…”

You try to suppress a smile as you reply,

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. I’m free after school, if that’s any good for you?”

Later on, when Eddie gives you a ride to his place, things feel different, and it’s not just the residual adrenalin from this afternoon’s test results. The anticipation is palpable. It’s like you’re both more relaxed, but somehow also more on edge, as if the air itself is charged and your skin is buzzing. You know where you’d like to take things, but you’re not sure how far Eddie will want to go, so you have a vague plan of offering suggestions but ultimately being guided by him.

You sit on the edge of his sofa feeling uncharacteristically nervous. Eddie brings drinks, clearing his throat as he sits stiffly next to you, occasionally glancing in your direction.

“So, uh, what’s the subject for tonight, Teach?”, he says with a nervous chuckle.

“I, uh, thought we could do some revision. Maybe bring everything together, and go over human reproduction?”

You raise your eyebrows as you say the final two words, hoping Eddie might catch your meaning. He gulps, and his cheeks tinge with a blush.

“That’s not a subject I have a great deal of knowledge about. But, you already knew that, right?”

He titters nervously, the pink in his cheeks deepening in intensity.

“Yeah, I know, Eddie. Um, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the deal there? I mean, you’re young, fit, good looking. I don’t wanna pry, I’m just curious, I guess?” 

Fuck, really fit. So good looking... Wait, did you just feel butterflies?

Realising your curiosity might have outrun your mouth, you attempt to backtrack.

“You totally don’t have to tell me. God, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you that.”

“No, Princess, it’s fine, really. It’s not like I never, um, had the opportunity. Mostly cheerleaders wanting free weed, or drunk wives or bored moms wanting a bit of illicit fun at The Hideout. For my 18th my dad even arranged a couple of female performers for me. He’s in jail, you knew that, right?” 

You give him what you hope is a sympathetic nod.

“He got a message to a buddy of his, and they turned up after a gig. He instructed me to, uh, take my pick, or have both, if I wanted. So after we’d played, we went backstage, and we talked, and they were really nice ladies, but, uh, it just didn’t feel right somehow. They didn’t say anything afterwards, apart from how I was such a nice boy and if I ever changed my mind I should totally give them a call. And the guys just assumed what had gone on and acted like I was some kind of dog, and I guess I didn’t correct them, and, well, here we are…” 

He’s bashful again, embarrassed at his own apparent reluctance as well as his lack of experience, and you see him picking at the skin around one of his thumbnails. Looking at the floor, he continues,

“I guess I wanted my first time to, I dunno, be a bit more special? Must sound pretty stupid, coming from a hot blooded male, or whatever.”

You both smile as you remember one of your previous conversations and what you’d said. You want to reassure him.

“No, that’s not stupid at all. It’s not just girls who deserve a special first time, you know. Everyone deserves to feel comfortable, and if you haven’t felt that way yet then that’s totally okay. I’m actually proud of you for not feeling pressured into doing something that didn’t feel right.”

He turns his head sideways and looks at you at a quirky angle through his hair, a broad smile threatening to emerge.

“Yeah? Thanks, Princess, that means more than you know.”

You smile back at him, that warmth in your chest spreading throughout your torso. Breaking the moment, Eddie asks, with more than a little trepidation,

“So, what exactly d'you wanna do..?”

Your mind churns with possibilities, and you open your mouth, not entirely certain about what’s going to come out. But before you can say anything, Eddie jumps in.

“Oh, wait. I almost forgot, I have something for you.”

He reaches over to the side table next to him and returns with a lightly rolled piece of paper. Unfurling it, he somewhat nervously presents to you.

“You said you wanted a picture. So, I, uh, drew this for you.”

You take it from him and open it fully. It’s an illustration. A human brain, seen from above, one half of it beautifully rendered in graphite pencil and exquisitely shaded and detailed. The ridges and bumps look like you could almost reach out and touch them. This is incredible enough, but what really catches your attention is the other side. It’s a riot of flowers in different types and colours, overlapping and clustered in a formation that perfectly matches the silhouette of the other half. It’s beautiful.

Your hand comes to cover your mouth and you gasp a little. 

“Oh, Eddie, this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen! Did you really do this for me?”

Bashfully, he pulls a strand of hair across his cheek as he replies, 

“Sure did, just for you. I chose the subject for that big, beautiful brain of yours, and then I added the flowers ‘cos, y’know, you’re beautiful. You’ve got it all, Princess.”

Now it’s your turn to feel embarrassed. You really weren’t expecting something so amazing, or to feel like this about it. Or to feel this way about him.

You lift the drawing to look closer at the divine detail, and it’s then that you focus in on the background. It looks like a page from a book, and as you scan the words you see dictionary and thesaurus entries under ‘beauty’, spotting beautiful, beauteous, charming, attractive, lovely, alluring... You’re absolutely stunned.

It’s then that you notice the raw edge on one side of the paper.

Wait. 

“Eddie…” You turn to him, brows furrowing with a mixture of concern and excitement. 

“Tell me you didn’t steal this page from the library!”

“Uh, I may have.” He chuckles lightly. “Hey, it’s not like people use it much. It just seemed so appropriate, and I just, kinda, liberated it for an artistic cause.”

You can’t deny that a vehicle for Eddie’s amazing artwork is likely a far better use for this page than it mouldering away in a dusty school library. And it’s not like you could return it now, anyway. 

Everything about it, from the intentions to the execution, is beautiful. 

You tell Eddie so as you run your fingers over the lines. 

“It’s wonderful, Eddie. I’ll treasure it forever.”

Tearing your eyes away from the art in front of you, you lock eyes with him, and the atmosphere in the room seems to thicken. You’re not sure how Eddie’s feeling, but there’s a quiver in your belly and a heat in your core that’s demanding a significant proportion of your attention. You place the paper carefully down on the coffee table before murmuring quietly,

“Would you like to, uh, do that revision now?”

Eddie shifts in his seat, his cheeks pulling up as he tries to stifle a grin and maintain his composure.

“Okaaaay?”

You shift on the sofa and Eddie can’t help but allow the grin spread across his face. He twists his upper body and turns towards you, and puts one hand beside him on the seat as he drops his chin and peers up at you through his lashes. He looks adorable, a little timid but eager to please, like the world’s cutest puppy, and you let out a quiet giggle.

Coyly, he pulls another strand of hair across his upper lip (he really has to stop doing that) as he broaches,

“Are you gonna test me?”

A sultry smile spreads across your face as you recall the first lesson you had together.

“I taught you a lot of terminology in our first lesson. I wanna see how much you can remember.” 

The tip of your tongue peeks out and teases your upper lip.

You can tell he’s still not sure exactly what you mean, but you help him understand as you shuffle forwards and, perching yourself on the very edge of the sofa cushion, you slowly drift your hands up under your skirt, slip your thumbs into the sides of your underwear, lift your butt slightly and begin to pull them down your legs.

Eddie gets it now, and to your surprise he rushes quickly off the sofa and drops to his knees on the floor in front of you.

“Oh shit, please let me help?”

You smile broadly and allow him to take over. 

His fingertips lightly brush the skin of your thighs. They’re rough, calloused, you presume from years of guitar playing, but the feeling is certainly not unpleasant. You experience a frisson of excitement, imagining how his rough hands might feel running over other parts of you.

He gently hooks your underwear with his fingers and, slowly, continues their descent down your legs. He’s careful, reverent almost, like you’re a porcelain doll and he’s scared you will break. You’ve never been treated with such care before. You feel like a precious jewel, and his nickname for you, Princess, suddenly takes on new significance.

He’s concentrating more now than he has the whole time you’ve been helping him study, seemingly taking in every detail of your thighs, your panties, and, especially, the patch of damp fabric that’s already soaked with your arousal. When his eyes flick up to yours he realises he’s been caught staring, and he gives you a little bashful smile.

He removes your underwear by gently lifting each of your feet. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he quickly pushes the ball of material under the sofa. You don’t let on that he’s not being nearly as subtle about that as he thinks he is. 

Placing one foot on either side of his knees, you part your legs. Then, tantalisingly slowly, you move the hem of your skirt up until it’s bunched around your waist. 

You’ve never seen anyone have a religious experience, but you think the expression on Eddie’s face might come close. His eyes, fixated on your centre, are blown dark and opened wide, and his mouth is slightly open. His eyes are furrowed upwards in that almost-surprised look you like so much, and you see him swallow, hard. 

You feel your cunt clench gently. Yep, you still like him looking at you.

“So… what can you remember, Eddie?”

“I— I—”

You give him a moment, taking the opportunity to drink him in, and watch as his tongue comes out to slowly wet his lips. The edges of his mouth curl in the slightest half-smile, and he huffs out an incredulous breath. He’s close enough to you that you feel it on your inner thighs and core. He looks so good like this, kneeling in front of you. Adoring, pliant, submissive even. Oh, this is new.

You lean forward to lightly hold his wrist, and guide his hand up towards your centre. You can feel him trembling slightly, and remember that this is likely the first time he’s ever touched anyone so intimately.

“Okay, let’s try this a different way. Do you remember what this whole area is called?”

As you ask the question you trace his fingertips lightly across your mound and the soft skin of your inner thighs. You place his open hand against you and curve his fingers to cup you gently, his palm pressing featherlight against your hidden clit and his fingertips nestled in your trimmed pubic hair. He lets out a trembling hum.

“Umm, Volvo. No, wait, vul-va?”

“Yes, that’s so good Eddie.” 

You put on a lilting, singsong voice, letting him know how well he’s doing, and he puffs out another tremulous breath.

You hold his first two digits and direct him to curl the rest out of the way. You guide his fingertips between your folds, and they glide easily through your silky wetness.

“Okay, what about this part?”

Eddie lets out a long, low sigh, and swallows deeply. He’s completely fixated on what he can see and feel. You slide his fingers up and down your soaked slit a couple of times, and Eddie’s jaw drops open further.

“Eddie, are you still with me? Can you remember what these are called?”

“Huh? Uh, l— lips, I think?”

“Good enough.”

You smirk at him, though he doesn’t notice, he’s clearly far too focussed on where his fingers are to care about anything else. You revel in the attention. No one else has ever been this gentle with you, this adoring, attentive, tender. And he’s fucking mesmerised. It’s a far cry from the back-seat fumbles and quick pokes in study rooms that you’re used to. You’re definitely not going to be able to go back to that now.

Desperate for Eddie to touch more of you, you continue his education.

“Next, I want you to find my clitoris. Do you think you can do that?”

You let go of his fingers and settle back onto the sofa on your elbows, processing Eddie’s shocked and nervous expression as he glances up to your face.

“You, uh, want me to do this by myself?”

“Yes, I trust you. If it hurts, or you’re way off, I promise I’ll help. But I think it would be good for you to try. Also, I want to see if you can work out when you’ve got it without me having to tell you.”

His brow furrows very slightly at this; he doesn’t seem convinced that this is possible, but you’re in front of him, spread and waiting, so who is he to question it. He moves his wet fingertips slowly through your folds, gliding easily, studying his path but also flicking his eyes up to your face episodically. You close your eyes and hum, enjoying the sensation. 

As he moves further up you can feel a growing uncertainty in his movements, but just as you think he’s about to give up or ask for help, one of his calloused fingertips glances the side of your clit, causing you to inhale sharply as your eyes spring open.

He freezes, terrified he’s done something wrong or hurt you, but you smile down at him and reassure him,

“That’s so close, you’re almost there.”

He smiles, confidence buoyed, and you notice he’s watching your face now as he moves his fingers experimentally. One sideways movement has a rough fingertip connecting perfectly with your sensitive nub, and you let out an abrupt whine.

Eddie presses a little harder, testing, his mouth still open and the tip of his tongue teasing his front teeth.

You moan, loudly, and your head tips back and connects with the cushions of the sofa.

Boldly, Eddie begins to move his fingers, up and down to start with, which makes you hum with contentment. But when, unbidden, he then starts to draw tiny circles around his newly-discovered treasure, your whines turn to full-on moans.

“Is this it? Am I getting it, Princess?”

You glance down at him again, at that beautiful face now adorned with a smirk that seems to be a mix of experimentation and new-found cockiness. Breathlessly, but smiling, you manage, 

“Yeah, you’re definitely getting it.”

And you let out another long moan as he continues to trace those tiny patterns. You could definitely lose it from this alone, but you want to teach him a little more.

“I want you to do something else as well. Do you remember where my vagina is?”

“Uh, I think so.”

Eddie swallows, as he moves his other hand up towards your centre. He pauses, and, looking from your face to your cunt again, he begins to slowly push one fingertip between your wet folds.

You wince as you feel a slight discomfort, and offer, helpfully, 

“Try going a little lower.”

“Oh, okay, sorry, I—”

“Don’t worry, Eddie, nobody gets it on their first tr— ah!” 

He’s definitely getting it.

You want to reassure him even more, tell him that this is the best you’ve ever felt when anyone’s touched you, but the words dissolve as his index finger easily breaches your sopping hole.

You sigh and close your eyes, enjoying the subtle stretch and finally having some part of him inside of you. But Eddie’s stilled, and you realise he needs more guidance. 

“You can go in further, if you want?”

That’s seemingly all the encouragement he needs, as he pushes further, all the way to his ringed knuckle, and you feel the knobbled metal against your lips. He closes his eyes and begins babbling,

“Oh, g-god, you feel so good. You’re like silk, like velvet. You’re so fucking warm, and so goddamn wet, Jeezus!”

You allow you both to enjoy the moment, before deciding to put your musician’s fingers theory to the test.

“Can I give you some more instructions, Eddie?”

He looks up at you, blinking, seeming to come back to himself.

“Yes! Tell me what you want. Please tell me what to do to make you feel good. I’ll do it, I’ll do all of it.”

Oh, this is gonna be fun…

“Okay, add another fing— Oh fuck, that’s it! Shit, that feels so nice.”

Your hips buck forwards as Eddie slides his middle finger in to join the first, pushing them deep and coating his rings in your abundant slick. He lets out a shuddering hum as your walls clench gently around him and you gasp at the sense of increasing fullness.

“Okay, keep your hand so your palm is upwards. That’s it, I know it’s a little uncomfortable but I promise it’s worth it. Now curl your fingers, like you’re beckoning me. Just gently, not too fa-ah— Oh fuck!”

Eddie’s deft fingertips brush that most sensitive spot inside of you, and your legs tense as your back arches off the sofa. You reach down to grab his wrist. You chuckle, smiling down at him. 

“Okay, stop, just for a moment, otherwise I’m not gonna be able to speak. Congratulations, you just found my g-spot.”

“I— I did?”

He grins, huffing out a breath, and experimentally curls his fingers again, his eyes glued to your face.

“Yes! Fuck, yes!” is all you can manage, as your hands move to grip the sofa cushions.

Eddie pauses for a brief moment, glancing down to look at your sodden core, and you take the opportunity to give him one final instruction.

“If you keep doing what you were doing to my clit at the same time, you’re gonna make me cum. Do you wanna do that?”

Eddie’s voice drops almost to a growl as he splutters, the words tumbling out in a rush,

“Oh fuck yes, Princess. Please let me do that!”

He adjusts his position, shuffling closer to you, his eyes scanning between your face and your cunt. You notice the substantial bulge in his pants and how he’s occasionally shifting his hips, bucking them up into the seam of his sinfully tight jeans.

“So… I just keep doing this, and… this?”

He pumps his fingers slowly in and out of you, curling them as his rings touch your soaking lips, and continues to draw tiny circles around your clit. His wide eyes meet yours, his level of concentration evident. You nod, smiling, and relax back onto the sofa. You lose yourself in the sensations, enjoying Eddie’s ministrations and letting yourself drift away on a sea of warmth and pleasure.

Before long a familiar pressure builds in your abdomen. You let out a loud sigh and your hips buck forward again of their own accord. You hear Eddie’s breath become louder and more ragged, and his movements speed up, his fingers pumping deeper and the pressure he’s placing on your clit increasing just a fraction. It’s enough to start sparks flying along your nerves and have your back arching and your thighs trembling.

You start groaning, almost letting go before you realise you should probably give Eddie some warning.

“Shit, I’m so close. Don’t stop, dontfuckingstop, ohshitohshitohshii—”

The universe stops. Time ceases to exist. Your vision goes black before being filled with a million tiny stars, and a supernova of euphoria erupts from your core and spreads throughout your entire body. You think you hear yourself moaning, possibly Eddie as well, but the sounds seem so far away. 

You don’t notice that you’ve arched your back even further until you regain some sense of reality and realise the top of your head is now against the back of the sofa. Gradually, feeling comes back into the rest of your body, a bone-deep warmth suffusing you as your contorted limbs gradually return to their usual positions.

Your vision finally comes back into focus, and you glance down to see Eddie staring at you, wide-mouthed and somewhat stunned. Propping yourself up on the heels of your hands, you grin as you comment, voice syrupy and possibly a little slurred,

“Fuck, Eddie, you’re good at that. Screw the B minus, you definitely deserve an A plus!”

He gives you a lopsided grin, one dimple popping, and chuckles lightly as, watching your centre, he begins to slowly withdraw himself from you. Your body seems to have other ideas, as your walls clench around his fingers and a small aftershock makes you tremble. It definitely doesn’t want to let him go.

He pauses as he examines his soaked digits, moving them apart and studying your slick as it covers his palm and runs over his knuckles. You think you spot a minuscule drop of his jaw as his hand twitches, but then he stops himself. You’re slightly nervous that you may have misread his movements, but you decide to be bold anyway.

“Do you wanna taste me?”

His eyes snap to yours. They’re wide, like a kid that’s been caught trying to steal cookies. Sitting up a little, you gently take hold of his wrist and move his hand closer to his mouth, giving him permission. His eyes don’t leave yours as he drops his jaw, lolls out his tongue and pushes his sodden fingers into his mouth. Only when his lips reach his knuckles does his gaze falter. His eyes flicker closed and he hums loudly, licking and sucking, cleaning up every speck. He eventually pulls them out, mumbling low,

“Christ, you taste so good.”

You heat at the praise; no one’s ever told you that before. Feeling bold again, you continue,

“You wanna taste me properly one day? Put your mouth on me? I gotta admit I’m keen to see what else you can do with that tongue…”

Eddie gulps audibly as he shuffles forwards and grabs hold of your knees, looking like he’s kneeling at an altar. The altar of you.

“Oh holy shit, please let me do that. God, I wanna get my tongue inside you so bad.”

He’s practically drooling, and the sight of him literally on his knees and begging to taste your cunt has you clenching all over again. But as much as you want that (and you really, really want that), there’s now an aching need inside you that only something larger can satisfy. If Eddie’s willing to give it to you. Keen to bookmark this for another time, you proffer,

“Whaddaya say we make that a whole lesson all to itself?”

He grins at you, seemingly pleased with this proposal.

Eddie rests back on his heels and places his hands in his lap. He’s not ushering you to leave, which is good, but he seems a little unsure of himself. Conscious of how exposed you still are, you start to straighten yourself up, lowering your skirt and checking your hair in case the sofa cushions have done a number on it. 

You have no idea what the protocol is for this situation. You’re aware that there’s likely an issue in his pants that could use some attention, but you’re not sure how to broach it. You know what you’d like to do, but are suddenly nervous and can’t look at him, and start fiddling with the hem of your skirt. He seems to be having the same dilemma, as he asks,

“So, what do we do now?”

He could be expecting a suggestion like watching a movie, or ordering pizza. But you decide to ask for what you want, whilst also giving him an out just in case this is too sudden. You fiddle with your hem again and catch his gaze as you blather,

“Well, I know we’ve kinda talked about this before, maybe not as much as we could have. But I, uh— I’d really like to, um, have you inside of me. If you wanted to. An— and it doesn’t actually have to be now, or even soon. We can totally go at your pace, and I realise I’m asking to be your first, but—”

He cuts you off with a single syllable. 

“Yes.” 

It’s the shortest sentence you’ve ever heard him utter. And in this moment it’s the most beautiful. His face is almost blank, completely serious with an edge of hopefulness etched in his brows. Your chest fills with pride and gratitude. He really does trust you enough to want to do this with you. But what happens next is a surprise. 

“Umm… would now be okay?”

You grin broadly. 

“Uh, no, not at all. Shall we, um… take this to your bedroom?”

He smiles softly before breaking out into a wide but bashful grin.

He stands and, offering his hands, helps you to get up. Eddie makes sure you’re okay to move and, at a pace you can cope with on your shaky legs, gently leads you across the trailer and down the narrow corridor to his bedroom, repeatedly looking at you with an incredulously dopey look.

He pauses with his palm against the door. Looking at you ruefully through his lashes, he warns you, quietly,

“Just so you know, it’s a mess in here.”

You reassure him,

“I don’t mind. Frankly, so long as you’re not storing a rotting corpse or running a meth lab, I couldn’t care less.”

He swings the door open and leads you inside. You step through and take a brief moment to glance around the room, noticing the posters on the walls, piles of clothes, D&D paraphernalia and various bits of band equipment. It’s almost exactly as you’d pictured it. 

Standing in the middle of the carpet, he turns to face you, holding one of your hands in his and fiddling with your fingers. His hesitancy is adorable.

“Soooo… What do we do first?”

You take both of his hands in yours, squeezing them lightly, and through a soft smile you say airily,

“Well, it’s usually customary to do a little kissing. I know you know how to do that, because…”

Your cheeks heat as you remember your library lesson. Eddie’s throat bobs as he swallows, and his gaze flits around your face, settling on your lips as he tries, and fails, to get his breathing under control. 

You gently place his hands at your waist and then loop your arms around his neck, finally getting to sink your fingers into his long, luscious locks. They’re much softer than you thought they’d be, and you feel him tremble as you lightly drag your fingertips across his scalp.

You step towards him and slowly lean in, moving your face closer to his, pulling Eddie ever so slightly to indicate that he should do the same. There’s the briefest of pauses as your lips hover, your breaths mingling, before you both close the minuscule gap.

It’s a little uncoordinated, you two never having done this standing up before, but none of that matters as your mouths connect. Eddie’s lips are soft and pillowy, and the feeling of his hands on your waist, his mouth against yours and that familiar faint vanilla scent completely invade your senses. He has a hint of a five o’clock shadow, and you feel his scruff scratch softly against the sensitive skin of your face. You know it’s going to leave you red and puffy, and you relish being able to take a reminder of this away with you. 

It’s chaste yet passionate as your lips meld and release and find a rhythm. You muss his hair and he hums, and the ache between your legs grows vivid again. You press your front against his, and he breaks your kiss with a soft,

“Oh!”

Wow, he really does want this. A whole lot. You nudge against him again, relishing the firmness you can feel in the front of his jeans. The seam of his zipper only adds to the sensation, and you feel his obvious and substantial erection swell and kick towards you through the stiff fabric. You’ve never wanted anything more in your entire life, but for Eddie’s sake you’re determined to take it slow.

Okay, maybe not that slow. You thumb at the hem of his shirt, and with what you hope is a cute pout, ask,

“Can we take this off?”

He grins, dimples popping adorably, and takes half a step back. You think your own smile might rival his as you grasp the bottom of his shirt and peel it up and over his head. Not teasing, not rushing, the speed is just right, and you bite your lip when his arms lift and his hair fluffs, and you drop the garment to the floor.

You’ve seen him shirtless before, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way it affects you. Eddie catches you staring, and for a brief moment you worry that he’s self conscious, or nervous of your opinion of his physicality. But instead, in a cheeky show of burgeoning confidence, that you hope is somewhat down to you, he murmurs,

“Do you… like what you see, Princess?”

Your eyes continue to scan his chest as you hum in approval.

“Oh yes, definitely…”

You bring one of your hands up and run the tips of your fingers over the tattoos on his pec. Eddie shivers and inhales a shaky breath, and then whines a little as you flatten your hand over the muscle.

Your other hand traces up his waist and abs, making him stutter out a bashful giggle as you hit a ticklish spot, until both hands come to rest on the upper part of his chest, feeling it rise and fall beneath your palms. You look over his torso, his shoulders and throat, before your gaze flicks over his lips and reaches his eyes again.

“I meant what I said before, you know. You’re really pretty. Has anyone else ever told you that?”

“Uh, nope. No, they haven’t. But from you, I believe it.”

You smile softly at him, and run your hands over his collarbones and down the sides of his pecs. Experimentally, you allow the pads of your thumbs to gently skim his nipples. He hisses in a breath, and his responsiveness increases the throb in your core.

You let your hands travel lower, and they come to rest at his belt line. You can’t help but salivate at what you know is beneath as you work his belt buckle open, and then his button. You look up and smile at him as you pull gently on his zipper, lowering it, and he smiles back, shaking his head almost imperceptibly as if he can’t quite believe this is happening. 

You hook your thumbs over his waistband and start to tug. He helps, easing the fabric over the soft swell of his ass as you pull his jeans down until you’re crouching on the floor before him. He sighs as his member is released from its denim confines, tenting obnoxiously in his briefs, and you miss the fond smile he gives you, accompanied by another imperceptible head shake, as you concentrate on freeing his feet.

Once he’s standing in just his boxers, you rise and sit on the edge of his bed, gently pulling on his hands and guiding him to sit next to you. You swivel to face each other, fingers still linked. The two of you somehow manage to make some of the most innocent of gestures seem the most intimate, and there’s a peculiar moment of bashfulness between you. You huff through your noses, chuckling, and you can see Eddie’s cheeks have pinkened again as he looks down at your joined hands, fingers intertwined.

Finally, his gaze meets yours again, and his face is suddenly serious. His eyes flit to your lips, and you take this as your cue to lean forward.

Your noses bump, and initially neither of you are sure which way to turn your head. It’s awkward and sweet and adorable, but when your lips finally connect all of that melts away. You soon both get into your stride, and it’s even hotter than it was in the library. You don’t have to worry about noise, or getting caught, and there’s no time limit - this time you can do this for as long as you want, and the thought of it fills you with a warm sensation that you can’t quite identify.

Eddie’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, and as you run the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip his mouth opens instantly, allowing you access to him and he to you. Without hesitation he plunges his tongue into your mouth, and deftly swirls it around your own, moaning as he moves his hand to grasp the back of your head, just like he did in the library. It’s messy and hot, and with no fear of being discovered you're both much more vocal, sighing and moaning as you move against one another. Eddie’s free hand comes to rest gently on your waist, but you can tell he’s tense and holding back. You don’t want him, or you, to hold back anymore. 

You break the kiss and look at him. His eyes are glassy and unfocused, and his lips are parted, reddened and glossy with your shared spit. In one swift motion you twist, lift one leg, and position yourself astride Eddie’s thighs. Then, to his complete surprise, you teasingly fiddle with your hem for a moment before lifting your shirt up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra. You chose it especially, the delicate lace cups leaving your nipples visible through the sheer fabric.

Eddie’s eyes widen and his jaw goes slack and he’s just… staring, like he’s seeing colour for the first time. You allow him to look at you for a little while, and his awestruck, hungry gaze is almost as effective as his touch for increasing the arousal at your core. You run your hands down his arms until you reach his wrists, which you lift gently, bringing his hands towards your chest. Eddie realises what’s about to happen, and quietly mutters,

“Oh, fuck…”

You guide his hands and his palms are hot as you place them over your flesh, and the heat between your bodies increases as Eddie huffs out an open-mouthed,

“Haaaaaaah.”

His eyes are fixed on your breasts, and he seems momentarily frozen in place. He swallows again, but before you can offer words of encouragement his eyes flick up to yours, an almost pleading look on his face. You nod carefully, slowly, hoping to convey your meaning: go ahead.

You’re successful, and you moan with delight as Eddie’s gaze drops again and he begins to squeeze and mould your heaving bosom like he wants to memorise every curve, every feature. He pushes them together slightly, then up, then apart, all the while massaging them gently with his palms and fingertips. At one point he accidentally grazes your slowly hardening nipples, and it causes both of you to let out startled whines.

He’s humming involuntarily, and more than once you feel his hips roll upwards, positioning the substantial tent in his boxers closer to where you need him. You drift your eyes up towards his pillows as you ask,

“Shall we… get a little more comfortable?”

His nod is swift and it bounces his curls as he immediately begins to shift position. You stand as he shuffles to the centre of his bed and flops down, his hair splaying out over his pillow and his hands clutching mindlessly at the comforter, perhaps to ground himself.

You manoeuvre so your thighs are astride his, your naked cunt not quite touching him and shielded only by the drape of your skirt. You wonder whether Eddie might be catching the scent of your arousal. He’s staring at your chest again, and you surmise he’s got a better view now, with more space between you and the light from the window illuminating you from the side.

His eyes rove your form, and you can’t wait to see what happens when he views a real pair of actual tits for the first time. Locking your gaze on his face, you reach behind you and unfasten your bra. The small jolt as you undo the clasp makes Eddie jump slightly, and his eyes flash up to your face, his eyes saying, is this really happening?

You cover yourself with one arm and slowly slip the straps of your bra off your shoulders before performing a dramatic reveal, dropping the lace to your lap and then sweeping the flimsy garment off the bed and onto the floor.

Eddie’s eyes widen to the point where you think they might leave his skull, and his jaw drops and retracts a couple of times. A strangled sort of noise leaves his throat, and it sounds a little like he’s being gently choked. You check in with him.

“Eddie? Are you okay? Are you… still breathing?”

He inhales, loudly. Nope, he’d definitely stopped breathing. His arms lift a little and his hands hover over the bedsheets. His eyes haven’t left your chest, and you let him know that whatever he wants to do, you’re okay with.

“You can touch them, if you want?”

Eddie huffs out a long exhale, and the warmth of his breath fanning over your sensitive skin brings your nipples to hardened peaks. His fingertips tentatively brush at the sides of your breasts as his thumbs trace the undersides. It’s like he’s examining a precious artifact, and it’s the most reverence anyone’s ever shown your tits, or any part of you. You hear yourself gasp as your centre spasms.

This gives Eddie a little confidence, and he moves to cup your flesh in his hands, his fingers squeezing lightly. This time though, he’s looking at your face, assessing your reaction, seeing how he’s doing. You very much appreciate that he’s ensuring he’s not hurting you, or making an ass of himself, but it’s actually quite the opposite. You let out a tiny moan, and gift him with a louder one when the pads of his thumbs graze your peaked nipples. He does it again, with more intent. The combination of the roughness and heat of his skin feels wonderful.

Unbidden, he brings his forefingers and thumbs together on one side, and pinches lightly. Your abrupt groan surprises both of you, but in a delightful way. He does it again, to both nipples this time, and you groan again as your belly clenches and you involuntarily roll your hips over his thighs, the heat in your core intensifying. 

You let him play for a while, enjoying how he moans and swallows and moulds your flesh. His hands feel so good you’re reluctant to pull them away, but eventually you do, softly placing his arms beside him on the bed as you murmur,

“It’s my turn to touch you now.”

His nervous expression quickly dissipates as you gently lay your hands onto his chest. He’s so beautiful, like an alabaster statue, and he’s warm and responsive to your touch. You run your hands lightly all over his torso, tracing the planes, dips and curves of his musculature, and the designs of his tattoos. It’s simple, almost reverential, though the increased heat in your centre and the breaths stuttering beneath the pretty pink bloom flushing over Eddie’s skin suggest your touch is anything but holy.

There’s something you’ve been wanting to investigate for what feels like a very long time, and you’re delighted that you’ve finally got the opportunity. You run your palms over Eddie’s chest again, but this time allowing your fingertips to skim over his nipples. 

He twitches beneath you, almost flinching at the sensation, but from the gasp he inhales and holds you don’t think this was from discomfort. You repeat the action. His flesh feels soft and velvety, and they’re smaller than yours, but seemingly just as sensitive, and you hear him whimper as they peak beneath your touch. You had no idea a guy’s nipples could react like this, your previous partners never giving them any consideration or allowing you to explore like this. Eddie’s stuttering breaths and the way he’s trembling make you think they were missing out on something really special.

You draw tiny circles around each nipple with the pads of your forefingers, and you feel the bedsheets shift under you as Eddie grips them in his fists. Bravely, you experiment, and you move your thumbs to join your fingers, Eddie’s flesh between them. With the lightest amount of pressure you pinch, just a little, and release quickly.

Something guttural leaves Eddie’s chest, and his breath comes out in a rush. Buoyed by this, you squeeze again, with more pressure and for longer, and this time Eddie’s groan is accompanied by an upwards buck of his hips into the empty air in front of yours.

This is new, and you like it very much. From the deepening pink tinge appearing across Eddie’s cheeks and torso, you think he’s liking it too. You squeeze once more, and release. Leaning forwards and sticking out your tongue, you lick at one of Eddie’s peaked buds before delicately clamping down with your teeth and sucking gently, moaning quietly at the sensation of his delicate flesh in your mouth.

Above you, Eddie splutters,

“Shit! Oh shit! Hnnn!”

Oh yeah, those other guys were definitely missing out.

You decide it’s time for him to experience yours up close too. You lean forwards, bracing your arms either side of his head, the swell of your tits now hovering above his face. His gaze flicks between them a few times before flashing up to yours. You give him a soft smile and nod your head, and he hums as he slides his hands up over your waist, up your sides and over the warm flesh again. 

He moulds them in his hands, making you moan, and to make it all the more obvious what you want him to do you shift so one of your nipples is positioned directly above his mouth. He takes the hint and flicks out his tongue, just grazing your peaked bud at first before gaining in confidence and taking it fully into his mouth, sucking gently at first and then flicking his tongue over it.

You feel a jolt head from your nipple up to your jaw that ignites the entire side of your face with static electricity as another journeys to your core. You let out an involuntary groan, and, buoyed by this, Eddie suckles harder, simultaneously running his thumb over your other nipple. You moan again, your hips rolling over his thighs in search of friction. Shifting beneath you, he pops off one breast and latches on to the other, giving it equal attention and, daringly, pinching the first between his fingers. It’s intense, and glorious, and that electric spark is back, heading directly between your thighs. This is definitely something that’s never happened before.

He unlatches, and you’re a gasping, breathy mess as you move down to kiss him. He lunges up a few centimetres to meet you, and as you deepen the kiss your nipples brush against his chest. He whimpers, and grabs the back of your neck with one hand and between your shoulder blades with the other, pulling you down so your chests meet. You drop your elbows down onto the mattress to get closer to him, and rake your hands through his hair, grasping it and pulling at the roots gently as your hands ball into fists.

There’s no more reverence or holding back now, and your kiss is messy, wet and noisy as Eddie holds you to him, squeezing you together and shoving his tongue seemingly as far down your throat as he can. Your tits are squashed between you, and the pressure of his heated chest against yours is divine. It’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever done, and you can’t quite believe you’re having this effect on each other. You feel the stiff length of him pressing into your abdomen, and he feels so, so ready for this.

You hum as you kiss him for a while longer, feeling his length kick up between you and the dampness between your legs increase. You break the kiss and sit up, smirking at Eddie’s blissed out face and reddened, kiss-bitten lips. Watching him watch you, you open the side fastening of your skirt and peel it off, discarding it to one side, leaving you fully bare on top of him. His face is almost unreadable, such a mixture of emotions passing over it, but you think he might be a combination of reverent, horny and amazed.

You move yourself further up his thighs, finally settling your hips flush across his, settling down close to the substantial wet patch that’s been made by his leaking tip. Your naked centre sticks to the damp fabric as you drag it across his boxer-covered crotch. Ordinarily you’d be embarrassed at making a mess, but something tells you Eddie won’t care.

You were right. There’s no resistance from him, and he groans beneath you as you feel his hefty bulge press against your folds. His hands grip the bedsheets again as he mumbles out in a low breath,

“Oh my god, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

His tone and his words only get you wetter, and you can’t help but roll your hips slightly over him, earning you another groan.

You don’t want to waste your slick on this fabric, and rise up onto your knees. With a playful snap of his waistband, you urge,

“Take these off.”

Eddie shuffles beneath you as quickly as he’s able, There’s the rustle of cotton and you look down in time to witness the slap of his hard member against his stomach. His cock’s flushed a deep pink, almost magenta, is more swollen than you’ve ever seen it, and is already drenched and glistening with precum. It smears across his happy trail as he shifts until, moments later, he’s naked beneath you. 

Still kneeling up, your cunt hovers over his bare form. His eyes scan your whole body, from your eyes to your tits, all over your torso, the soft hair covering your cunt, back up to your eyes again. Bravely, you think, he places his hands on your thighs, and you feel them tremble a little as he rubs and strokes gently. 

Slowly, you lower your hips. You feel your pubic hair brush first, before your warm lips make contact with his shaft and your most personal areas touch for the first time.

Eddie’s brows furrow as the slick warmth of you settles onto him, and his abs tense as he breathes out, low,

“Oh, shiiiiit.”

You’re both still for a beat before you brace yourself, palms placed flat on his chest, and begin to rock your hips, just gently, getting you both used to the sensation of having him pressed against your folds. His cock is hard, yet warm and soft, and Eddie huffs out heated breaths through his nose as you slide yourself along him. His hips start to subtly cant beneath you. By the tense look on his face you think it might be involuntary, that he’s holding himself back. 

You move for a little while before one particularly exquisite movement allows his cock to slip between your folds, and his swollen tip unexpectedly nudges your clit. You gasp and curl in on yourself, involuntarily closing your eyes and clenching your fingers, letting out a soft whine. 

Below you, Eddie makes a strangled hnnng sound before his breath hitches and he inhales quickly, his grip on your thighs tightening. 

Worried there’s something wrong, your eyes flash open. You’re relieved to see Eddie seems to be okay, though his eyes are blown even darker and his jaw is softly parted. You glance down at your hands on his chest, and notice a collection of angry-looking red lines where your nails have dug into his flesh. Horrified, you stammer,

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!”

Echoing your words from your second lesson, he smirks, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip, and he bounces his eyebrows as he admits,

“It’s okay, I kinda liked it.”

Smiling, you lift your hands to his pecs and lightly drag the nails of your pointer fingers further down his chest and ribs, down to his abs. Eddie moans again, and his hips roll upwards, his cockhead nudging your clit with more pressure and causing you to whine along with him.

Fuck, this feels so good, and he’s not even inside of you yet…

You don’t know how Eddie’s doing, but you can’t take much more of this. Feeling that it’s definitely time for his final lesson, you sit up, resting your palms gently on his belly. You’re feeling really good, but also nervous, which you know makes you verbose, and you can’t help but babble out too many options. 

“Okay, so, I’m more than happy for us to go all the way right now. But if that’s not something you want I’m obviously totally fine with that too. But… Shit. I guess I’m asking, do you still wanna… I mean, how far do you wanna go, really, with me?”

Eddie’s eyes search yours earnestly, and the gentleness of his reply instantly soothes your frayed nerves.

“I want it, Princess. I want to do it… all. With you.”

You smile warmly down at him. It’s the best response you could’ve had. He swallows before gesturing to his nightstand.

“Should I, uh… Should we…?”

You realise he’s asking if he should get a condom, and you’re grateful for his thoughtfulness. But you’ve been considering this, and you have an alternative suggestion. 

“Well… I’m on birth control for a period thing, and I'm pretty sure I’m clean because I’ve never not used a condom. I know you’re clean because, well, y’know. So… if you’re okay with it, we could, uh, do it without?”

He’s looking up at you, wide-eyed and mouth agape. All he can manage is a tiny, squeaked,

“Holy f—. P— please.”

Again, it’s the perfect reply. You’re still slightly incredulous that he’s trusting you to be his first, but you’re also excited to take on such a responsibility. You calm your breathing before kneeling up a little, glancing down and reaching between your legs to take ahold of him. You already knew he has the most exquisite cock you’ve ever encountered, and it somehow looks even more beautiful right now. You grasp him reverently, angling him upwards and dragging him through your folds to gather more of your slick. 

He’s hot and solid in your hand, and flashbacks of everything you’ve done so far flood your mind. Touching yourself as he watched, taking him into your mouth, getting each other off over the phone, your first kiss... It‘s all combined to lead you to this exquisite moment. 

Eddie sighs lightly and lets out a nervous hum, and then both of you hold your breath. You lower yourself a tiny amount, and his tip pushes in a little further as you notch him between your folds. He gasps. You lean over him, and stabilise yourself with your hands either side of his head.

“You ready?”

Eddie’s voice wobbles as he confirms,

“Fuck, yes, Princess. Please f-fuck me.” 

You take a steadying breath, and, keeping your eyes fixed on his, you begin to lower further. His fat head breaches you, and you bite your lip as you feel the stretch of him for the first time. Slowly, so slowly, you slide down, inch by delicious inch. You’re so wet he glides into you easily, although the size of him is something you’ll need to get used to. You relish the sensation of him stretching out your walls as they slowly envelop him.

You pause, and Eddie mumbles your name, barely audible, the hot huff of air filling what little space there is between you. It sounds like a prayer, or perhaps a spell. There’s a moment of silence and absolute stillness, yet it’s weighted, the implications heavy in the humid space between you. You both know how much this means, how things will never be as they were, especially for Eddie. As you slide lower, letting him fill you, his jaw drops further, and his grip on your thighs grows stronger. You sink down until he’s plunged completely inside your warmth, and immerse yourself in the way you’re accommodating him. Your hips finally connect with his, and as you seat him fully inside you already feel him nudging against that spot that he so deftly located earlier. You mumble out a stilted,

“Oh, god.”

It’s followed by a long, deep sigh from Eddie as he mutters,

“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck— Ooooooooh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuccckkk!”

He’s closed his eyes, and you can feel the tips of his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. You enjoy the moment, savouring how he looks, how he feels. His hair splays out around him on his pillow like a chestnut halo, and his head is tilted back, exposing his broad, thick throat. His eyes flash open again and fix on yours; wide, dark mahogany pools that are somehow simultaneously a million miles away and boring into your very soul. His mouth hangs open in awe, shallow, trembling breaths emanating from his throat. He looks like an angel. 

He strokes your thighs for a moment before his large hands move to settle lightly on your hips. Placing your hands over the backs of his, you stay seated, tilting your hips ever so slightly to push down even deeper onto him. He practically growls,

“Fuck, Princess. You feel so fucking good.”

The growling nature of his voice sends an electric heat straight to your core, and the stretch you feel quickly morphs into a fiery need. You gaze into Eddie’s chocolate orbs as you warn him, 

“I’m gonna move now, okay?”

He swallows in preparation, and you brace your hands on his lower ribs. You tilt your hips, rolling them. It angles him differently inside you, his swollen head hitting harder exactly where you need it. It also brushes your clit against the dark, glossy hair at his base, and your walls spasm as a low moan leaves your chest and you feel Eddie’s cock kick up in response. He mumbles, voice low and lasciviously gravelly,

“Do that again.”

So you do, again and again. You find a rhythm, slow but satisfying as you rock back and forth. Eddie’s jaw drops open again and his lips form a soft ‘o’ as you move above him.

It occurs to you that everything feels subtly different. Of course, you’ve never been treated with such care before, never been brought to a point of such arousal, plus you’ve never wanted anyone as much as you want Eddie in this moment. But you swear you can feel the flared edge of his cockhead as it drags against your walls, and every ridge and vein as you move atop him. You’d never previously considered how a lack of barrier might affect things, it always being a hard boundary for you, despite whining and cajoling from previous partners. You’d assumed it was mostly a ‘guy thing’, and you had no idea how it could affect your pleasure. But it’s abundantly obvious now. 

Eddie's lips are pursed, and his grip on your thighs intensifies again as you watch the muscles of his abdomen subtly tense. Perhaps it’s time he became a bit more… involved. You’re sure he can take it, and you know he won’t hurt you.

“You can move too, Eddie. Just do what feels good.”

He‘s tentative at first, tilting his pelvis subtly and pushing up into you with such care, as if he might hurt you, or something might break. It’s incredible, the small movements feel so good, and somehow more intimate and passionate than anything you’ve done with anyone else. You reward him with soft sighs and moans in time with his movements.

Gaining confidence, he begins to move faster, pulling out further and thrusting back in with more vigour. When you join him, moving and rolling your pelvis with larger movements in time with his, your breath coming out in increasingly loud rhythmic gasps and moans, his breathing quickens, his whole body flushes, and you can't help but close your eyes and drop your head back in ecstasy until Eddie’s hands clamp onto your hips and—

“Ohmygod, ooohmyGOD.”

He’s suddenly still.

You open your eyes to check in on him, and see Eddie’s screwed up face, his eyes and mouth twisted shut, his cheeks even redder than before.

“Eddie? Are you okay?”

He babbles, quickly,

“Don’t move Princess, pleasejustdontfuckinmove. This is fuckin’ amazing and I don’t wanna ruin it!”

You want to reassure him that everything he’s doing is perfect.

“I’m close too. It doesn't matter how long this lasts, just that we both enjoy it. And I’m really, really enjoying it. Please, keep moving, Eddie. For me?"

From his beautifully wide eyes and flushed face, this definitely isn’t going to last very much longer, but you mean it, you don’t care. You’re still puffy and sensitive from his earlier ministrations, and you know it won’t be long before you fall apart all over him. You both begin to move again, quickly rebuilding a rhythm. The soft thrusts of his hips keep perfect time with the subtle rolls of yours, the lewd sounds of your mingling juices only adding to your mutual enjoyment. 

Eddie lets out little uhs and ahs in time with your movements and you adore that you’re having such an effect on him. After a particularly deep thrust followed by a vociferous grunt, he grits out, through clenched teeth,

“Does it— Christ— Does it always feel this good?”

You reply, truthfully,

“Honestly? It’s never been this good.”

He stutters out a high-pitched chuckle as he confirms,

“Holy shit, I’m in fucking heaven!”

You lunge forwards to kiss him again, brushing your nipples against his chest as you slip your tongue between his eager lips. Once again Eddie’s hand grips the back of your head and he moans loudly as his tongue plunges into your mouth. You feel the warmth of a broad palm against your lower back as he pulls you flush with his chest. The shift in position arches your back, subtly changing the angle and spreading your centre even further. 

All too soon, Eddie’s thrusts become faster and less controlled, and you match his pace, rolling your hips and pushing down onto him with increased vigour. You break apart and move up just enough so he’s in focus, wanting to see him at this perfect moment. His eyes are glazed and seem to only be half-focussing on yours, and there's a tell-tale furrow in his brow. You wonder aloud,

“You gonna cum? I wanna feel you. Let go, please.”

His hips seem to take on a life of their own now he’s not holding back. His thrusts become more fervent, and his swollen member pummels that spot inside you. You feel his pelvis slam against your clit with every stroke, and your own release careens towards you, spots of light beginning to appear in your vision and the warmth in your core reaching a heated crescendo.

With a deep, rumbling groan, easily the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard, his final thrust pushes him even deeper and his cock begins to pulse inside you. You’ve never felt anyone’s release before, and the divine sensation makes you jam your hips down, triggering your own release, and you throw your head back in ecstasy, emitting a disjointed high-pitched whine. There's more low moans from Eddie as you clench around his still-pulsing member, and you barely register the bruising grip as he digs his fingertips into your hips. 

Eventually your movements still and, spent, you pitch forward on failing arms and collapse onto his chest, breathing heavily into the crook of his neck. After a moment he wraps his arms around you, holding you close and nuzzling into your hairline.

There’s a minute of stillness, and you revel in the post-orgasmic haze. Your cunt spasms with aftershocks, eliciting contented hums from deep within Eddie’s chest. You’re warm, satisfied and feel cosy and safe with his arms wrapped around you, and you wonder whether he’s feeling the same. You hum into his skin as he traces one hand over your shoulders and back. It’s bliss.

Eventually, Eddie chuckles lightly as he mutters,

“Fuck, Princess. That was… I, um… Fuck.”

He snorts a truncated laugh, his Adam’s apple bobbing and his curls bouncing on the pillow as his head shifts to look at you. All you can manage is a dopey grin as you reply,

“Yeah. Fuck.”

You chuckle in unison, shifting until your noses touch, both tilting your chins until your lips connect in a series of soft pecks.

You’re a little nervous to ask, but something in you has to know.

“How did it feel? Fucking for the first time?”

“Shit, it was goddamn heaven, I swear! Although technically, I think you did most of the actual fucking.”

“Oh no, you did absolutely your fair share! But we can change that, if you’d like. Are you up for doing most of the fucking another time?”

Eddie’s eyebrows snap up his forehead and he looks straight at you with surprise, and just a little disbelief. 

“You, uh, want there to be a next time…?”

You roll your lips together and consider your words carefully before replying. He really has no idea how good this was for you, or that he’s already so much better than literally every guy you’ve ever slept with. But you don’t want to stroke his ego too much, at least, not just yet. You hum and fake a look of disinterest.

“Well, I guess I could make time in my schedule, to, y’know, give you a few more lessons. Purely for your benefit, of course.”

His jaw drops in faux shock.

“Hey, I know I’m not exactly an expert, but if I’m reading this right you seemed to enjoy yourself.”

You can’t keep a straight face and burst into giggles, and Eddie follows you, his fingers snaking to your waist and easily finding your ticklish spots. You huff and wriggle, but make no real attempt to disengage yourself from his grasp. If anything, you end up more entangled, and from the contented sounds that emanate from you both, it’s not something either of you mind.

You lay together for a few moments, enjoying the peace and your shared heat. But eventually your hips start to ache, and with a groan of discomfort, and more than a little reluctance, you slowly start to move. His mostly-soft cock slips out easily, and as you roll off of him you feel your combined juices run out of you, dribbling over his abdomen and coating the inside of your thighs.

You sigh as you wriggle yourself into the crook of his arm, and lay your palm on his chest, tracing lazily up and down with your fingers.

You figure Eddie must feel the cooling stickiness, because he starts to move and asks,

“Umm… Do I— Uh… Should I…? D’you need anything?”

You keep it simple.

“Umm, something to clean up with would be nice. And could I, maybe, get some water?”

The mere fact that he’s asked the question already puts him leagues above others, but you’re briefly concerned that Eddie will see this as annoying, or demanding. To your relief, he seems entirely unfazed. 

“Sure thing. You get comfy here and I’ll just be a minute.”

He wriggles sideways and backs off the bed, his beautiful grin lighting up his glowing face. His hair’s a dishevelled mess, his torso is still tinged pink and the scratches you left on his chest are an angry red, but you’ve never seen anyone so beautiful. Unable to break your gaze, he doesn’t turn until he’s already partly through the doorway. It’s sweet, and lovely, but as he leaves you’re almost sad that he didn’t turn sooner, as you’re treated to the glorious sight of his pert, peachy butt bouncing slightly as he leaves the room.

You swallow, thinking that’s a sight you could definitely get used to, but then chide yourself. He’s obviously happy to do this again, but you have no idea whether he’s… feeling the same way you are. But at that moment you make a decision - you’re absolutely going to broach the subject before you leave. Definitely. 

Probably. 

Maybe...

There’s the sound of running water and minutes later Eddie returns with a warm, damp washcloth and a small towel, and promptly disappears again. You clean yourself up as best you can and then take him at his word and get comfy, wrapping yourself up in his sheets before rolling onto your side and perusing the myriad objects atop his nightstand. There’s a full ashtray, loose keys, a lighter, a couple of rings, an empty pretzel tube, rolling papers, a creased music magazine and a lot of dust. A battered copy of a Tolkien novel catches your eye, and you pick it up and start to flip through it. There’s folded corners and pages marked with scraps of paper, notes and doodles in the margins and words written in runes in Eddie’s messy scrawl. You imagine it must be one of his most treasured possessions.

Just as you’re halfway through deciphering a short runic message, Eddie enters with snacks clasped in his hands and between his teeth. There's water, cold soda, pretzels, potato chips, a bowl with a few grapes in it, and half a bar of chocolate. His soft, but still pretty, cock swings with abandon as he heads towards you and dumps his haul onto the bed in front of you.

It’s all perfect. He’s perfect…

As the final packet leaves his mouth he spots what you have in your hand.

“I brought snacks too, I hope that’s okay. Whatcha got there, Princess?”

You drop the paperback like it’s burned you, blustering,

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to snoop.”

“That’s alright, you can look. There’s nothing incriminating in there. Not gonna tell you where that stuff is, mind you."

He pulls a comical face as he flops down onto the bed, the old springs squeaking in protest, and you giggle, thinking about your journal and wondering whether he does indeed have any similarly incriminating stuff anywhere, as you admit,

“I read The Hobbit once. I liked it, but I found the other books too heavy going. Is that awful? Are you gonna throw me out now?”

You wince and add a deliberately over-expansive pout. Eddie’s hair shakes wildly as he responds emphatically,

“Oh, god no! You’d have to do a lot worse than that for me to ever let you go…”

You think he’s just being funny, but then his eyes soften suddenly, and you wonder whether, deep down, he actually means that. Your tummy flutters at the thought. But before you can dwell, his face brightens, and, breaking your thought process, he continues excitedly,

“Maybe I could read them to you sometime? I could explain it as I go. And I promise to skip any really dull parts.”

You smile and nod eagerly in agreement, imagining lazy days spent cuddling with Eddie reading aloud to you as you play with his hair and memorise his tattoos. You can’t pass this moment up, you have to say something. And, in just a minute, you will. You’re almost certain of it.

You sit up and lean back against the wall, and Eddie joins you, pulling his sheets and comforter around you both. You lean in close as you snack on your impromptu and welcome picnic, sometimes feeding each other small morsels, and he makes you giggle as he kisses crumbs from the side of your mouth and fake-bites your fingers. 

Food devoured, you snuggle against him with his arm slung around your shoulders. You bring a finger up to trace his ink, and he hums contentedly as you run your fingertips through his soft chest hair again. 

Okay, girl. Just do it.

Gathering yourself, you take a deep breath, holding it for far too long before the words tumble out of you.

“I’ve really enjoyed this, Eddie. Not just, y’know, this, but also the tutoring, and getting to know you. Shit, I’m probably messing this up so bad. I guess what I’m trying to say is… and I don’t know how you’d feel about this, but… we could carry this on. Properly. If— you wanted to.” 

Eddie stares at you for a moment, before he stammers, 

“We— we could?”  

A goofy smile appears on his face.

Bolstered, you gather your nerve and continue,

“And… I could be more than just your tutor. If you wanted me to be?”

Eddie replies, with a little trepidation, 

“Are you serious? You’d wanna be more than, y’know, this?” 

He gesticulates over both of your pelvises.

“Yeah. I was thinking… Fuck, I hope this isn’t too much. Will you tell me if this is too much? I thought… If you like… I could even, maybe… be your girlfriend?”

Eddie inhales quickly and his chest puffs, you hope with joy, but fucking hell you hope you haven’t overstepped and it’s actually horror.

“If I’d like? Shit, I would absolutely like that. Very, very much...”

He brings one hand up to stroke the side of your head, and then runs it lightly down over your shoulder and the side of your arm. He places a firm, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back, smiling.

You stare into each other’s eyes, the gravity of the moment not lost on either of you. The nervous pit in your stomach is completely dissolved by a warm, honeyed sensation, as you slowly process that Eddie said yes, and that you’ve just snagged yourself the cutest, sweetest, sexiest boyfriend ever. 

You lean in, capturing Eddie’s plush lips in another chaste but oh-so-meaningful kiss. He presses forward to kiss you back, relaxing and heaving out a low sigh before his lips quirk into a devious-looking smirk, failing to hide his mischievous tone as he asks,

“I do have one question. If you’re my girlfriend now, do I still have to wait a whole week before we can do this again?”

You snort at his silliness.

“No, Eddie, you definitely don’t. In fact, what are you doing this weekend? Would you like to come over to my place? I’ve got plenty of ideas for more lessons, and I’m sure there’s lots we can teach each other.”

Eddie growls playfully before enthusiastically agreeing, prying excitedly for details like dates and times and possible activities. Although he seems more than fine with your company, you don’t want to push things too far or outstay your welcome, so when you glance at his bedside clock and see that it’s already way past the time you’d usually leave you turn to him with a resigned huff.

Eddie responds, 

“It’s that time already?”

You give him a glum little nod, and he continues,

“Do you really have to go? I mean, couldn’t you stay a little longer? I’d really like that.”

Smiling, you nuzzle in closer to him. 

“I was kinda hoping you’d say that boyfriend.”

In a surprising display of both strength and newly-found confidence, Eddie pushes your shoulder and flips you onto your back, scattering the empty packets and bowls across the bed and onto the floor. His pretty curls frame his face and tickle your cheeks as he looms over you, and his burgeoning erection feels hot as he presses it into the crease of your thigh.

He leans down, and his beautiful nose brushes yours as he murmurs,

“You know these lessons you’re talking about, Princess. How about we start right now?”

You hum into the kiss he plants on your lips and roll your hips upwards into him, making him moan. But before this particular lesson can go any further, you’re both disturbed by the sounds of the trailer door loudly opening and closing, and the rustle of fabric as someone removes what sounds like a heavy coat.

You and Eddie freeze, eyes wide and locked on each other's. 

“Oh shit, it’s my uncle!”

You gasp, and then both frantically sit up and scramble off the bed to get dressed, nervously giggling and flinging each other’s clothing across the room.

You’re almost done, and in record time too. But as you bend to retrieve a sock, Eddie's treated to the sight of your skirt lifting, revealing your bare cunt, a little of his spend leaking out of you. He’s momentarily struck dumb, and his jaw drops. But another noise outside snaps him back to reality. Stuttering, he mumbles,

“You don’t have any… uh…”

He waves a hand in the vague direction of your lower half, his cheeks reddening as he remembers what he did earlier on with your panties.

“It’s okay, Eddie. After that first time, I thought it would probably be a good idea to keep some spares in my bag.”

Standing, you wink at him. He pulls a thick lock of hair over his cheek, embarrassed, screwing up his eyes and realising he’s been completely and utterly caught. He tries to apologise, his words clipped,

“Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”

“You know, from anyone else I’d have found it creepy, but from you I find it oddly flattering.”

He grins widely, and is just about to pull you into an embrace when there’s another noise, a gravelly voice this time, 

“Is this paper yours, son? You didn’t steal this from another kid again, did’ya?”

Eddie looks slightly bashful for a moment but there’s no time to dither. It's time to face whoever’s out there. Eddie opens his door and leaves first, beckoning you encouragingly to follow him. Standing in the narrow hallway by the kitchen, you come face to face with Eddie’s uncle for the first time. He’s clutching Eddie’s test paper, and his deep frown, grizzled features and broad frame cut an imposing figure. When he eyes the pair of you, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. 

Eddie speaks first, and addresses his uncle, a little sarcastically,

“Yes, that is indeed my test paper. And I’ll thank you for not looking quite so surprised.” 

The big man’s brows furrow a little deeper, and you can’t tell whether it’s with consternation or amusement, as his gaze flicks between the two of you. Eddie clears his throat and introduces Wayne to you, and tells his uncle your name. You think that’s it, until he straightens up a little, and with a confidence you weren’t expecting he slips an arm around your shoulders. He grips you tightly before adding, with a little nod, as if he’s practicing the words and still convincing himself, 

“And, uh, she’s my girlfriend.”

Oh. You like how it sounds coming from his lips.

Wayne’s forehead crinkles as his bushy eyebrows raise, but before you have time to worry his face splits into a wide grin. He extends a work-grizzled hand and shakes yours powerfully as he says, in a much lighter tone,

“Well, ain’t this the nicest news for this old soul to come home to. It’s a pleasure to meet you, darlin’.”

His voice is warm and kind, and you believe it. Looking between you and his nephew, Wayne adds,

“Do we have the pleasure of your company this evening? You caught us at a good time, I’ve just been huntin’n’gatherin’.”

He gestures towards the kitchen area. You see full bags piled onto the counter, mac’n’cheese boxes, eggs and a few vegetables peeking from the tops, and realise it’s a dinner invitation. You gape a couple of times, far from expecting this level of domestic intimacy, and Eddie seems to pick up on it and answers for the both of you.

“Not tonight. I’m gonna drop this lovely lady back home, and then I’ll come help you chop veggies, ‘kay?”

He sweeps an arm wide, directing you towards his front door, and you pad over to collect the rest of your belongings, careful when you bend so as not to reveal your lack of underwear to anyone who wasn’t expecting it. You clasp Eddie’s divine drawing to your chest, handling it with especial care. Behind you, you hear the two men mutter-whispering, Wayne speaking first.

“Is this the tutor girl you’ve been talking about non-stop these last few weeks? You finally asked her out, huh?”

You can hear the smile in Eddie’s voice as he responds,

“Keep your voice down, old man. Um, that’s not exactly how it happened, but yeah, that’s her.”

Eddie looks over to you with a fond smile on his face as you pick up your backpack, and he comes over to you and helps you with your shoes before you leave ahead of him. The last thing you hear before the door closes behind you both is Wayne speaking once more.

“Good for you, son. It’s about damn time!”

Series masterlist General masterlist

Thank you so much for reading! (And for sticking with me through the longest update gap I think I’ve ever had, ILY 🙏💗) This completes our main ‘lessons’, but don’t fret - I have some more Extra Credits planned for these two 😉

If you liked this please, please like, comment and, especially, reblog - it’s the only way fics stay alive, and it means so much to writers to get your reactions and feedback, it’s what keeps us sharing our work 💗💋

“It’s that time already?” is a prompt from @promptsh20, it fitted so well with this section of the story I just had to include it 😊 The “It’s never been this good” lines are adapted from a film, the name of which I’ve now forgotten 🙈, and the “Do that again” was inspired by a Ryan Reynolds line in Green Lantern (if I can’t have him say it to me IRL I’m damn well gonna have Eddie do it in a fic 😛)

I proofed this as much as I could but my brain turned to mush, so if there are any errors or anyone grows an extra limb or something please tell me 🙏😅

Taglist part one: @airen256 @bimbotrashcan @urlbitchin @guiltyasquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @rustboxstarr @bl4ckt00thgr1n @bexreadstoomuch @cozmiccass @yujyujj @cluz1babe @thunderg @aysheashea @paleidiot @cadence73 @eddie-munsons-wifey @siriuslysmoking @neville-is-my-husband @aestheticaltcow @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lightcommastix @ungracefularchimedes @spenciesprincess @joejoequinnquinn @freshoutthewomb2 @sunshinepeachx @tlclick73 @hellfirenacht @yourdailymemedelivery @wendyxox @madaboutmunson @80s-addict @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @eddiesxangel @bunny7232 @starksbabie @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @abellmunsonmovie @sheneedsrocknroll92 @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @wonderlanddreamer @leatherfaceologist @munson-blurbs @paradisepoisons @lokidokieokie @rcailleachcola @fckyeahlames @kurdtbean PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU CHANGE YOUR URL OR DON’T WANT TO BE INCLUDED ANYMORE

[dndsettingsinfo]

(Strichaven) Arcano-Botany Papers: Lesson 3 by Painted Live

[schooloftuneage]

Lesson 3: This is not a test...

CLASS IS IN SESSION

Rick Rubin is one of the most influential producers in the music biz. He turned Linkin Park from what could have been a two-album flash in the pan into one of the deepest acts in alternative music (no kidding, A Thousand Suns remains one of this berk's top 20 albums of all time). He introduced the world to more iconic acts than I can count. And before all that… he was in a shitty punk group that was more known for fake fights and fake arrests than anything else. (His dad was a policeman and would pretend to arrest Rick when he got into planned altercations with planted hecklers - an attempt at getting traction that failed.)

But at the same time, Rick was keeping his thumb on the pulse of the New York music scene, and when he found out about a few rapidly growing groups that were turning out incredibly danceable music with an antiestablishment ethos, his first thought on listening to them was that it was Black Punk Rock.

The music in question was, of course, hip hop.

Let's delve in.

Hip hop was influenced by numerous sources - talking blues, disco, R&B - and tracking all those down would be great, but we're going to truncate slightly today, because A) I'm saving a lot of that for a later lesson, and B) because the most pertinent one is actually disco, believe it or not. See, like punk rock, there was a single spark that ignited the movement, and while it was slower to burn, it had the perfect kindling. The place was in the slums of the south Bronx, in a rec room at 1520 Sedgewick Avenue. The person was DJ Kool Herc, who spun records for dance parties there.

The above documentary gives us a good glimpse at how Herc did his thing. Today we just know it as basic mixing, but back in the day, this kind of thing was revolutionary. Add in an emcee - Coke la Rock - who would handle the microphone while Herc was mixing, and you had the first emcee-deejay combo.

Over time, more groups came together. Grandmaster Flash picked up Herc's skills, and then hammered them down, bringing them to new heights of awesomeness. He couldn't even try to get on the mic while he was mixing, too focused on the beats he was crafting, so he got an enterprising B-boy they called Cowboy to do the honors. Over time he amassed a group of five emcees to work with him - Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. The Treacherous Three, the Funky Four (Plus One More) - you can see a sort of theme in these early groups. Rap battles were a thing, inheriting a little bit of gang battle ethos from their founders - early rap adopters the Zulu Nation were ex-gang members who were trying to veer into a more constructive direction, and they did so well.

But for most, the genre was locked away. Sure, rapping was easy enough to do, but to be a real hip hop artist you needed a deejay, and that equipment was expensive. As I said, the spark was there, but it needed kindling.

And just as punk had its watershed moment in 1977 in London, so hip hop did in 1977 in New York. On July 13th, NYC had a city-wide blackout that lasted just over a full 24 hours. A mob mentality decended over the city, with widespread looting… and in the aftermath of these riots, a lot of expensive sound equipment made its way into the hands of enterprising would-be deejays, either through their own actions or through pawnshops who didn't ask questions about where the equipment came from in the weeks after the blackout.

Now, there is much - MUCH - to say about this scene… but as I'm delving in, I'm realizing that someone else has already done this lesson, and arguably done it better than I could ever dream of doing it. Cartoonist Ed Piskor has done a series, Hip Hop Family Tree, that chronicles the early rise of the scene beautifully. And in the spirit of the early rap bootlegs that we're going to be discussing… you didn't get it from me, but hereyago:

That's twelve issues of greatness right there.

Now, with THAT link dropped, let's talk seminal moments for the origins of hip hop.

The first track on wax that was nothing but a deejay showing off their mixing prowess? "The Adventures of Grandmaster Flash on the Wheels of Steel". This one was even more notable because Sugar Hill Records didn't like paying royalties to artists that they sampled, and tended to use original compositions rather than having Flash or other deejays mix in the background (which, yes, was kind of insulting to the art of the deejay…). Also, please note, there are NO editing tricks here. This was just Flash at his best, and he laid the whole track down in only four or five takes.

The first rap "superstar", arguably, was Kurtis Blow. At the very least, the man was both responsible for the first gold record in the hip hop genre and the man who brought it to Soul Train, with "The Breaks".

And now, we're going to zig-zag-zig back to an earlier point.

The early hip hop scene was full of bootlegs. Some were recordings of live events - Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five had a full live track that had never been released recorded, and it's still more popular, as the studio version lacks the passion of the live recording. (Bozo Meko's version of 'Flash it to the Beat', fyi.) Unscrupulous producers would record artists in the studio under the guise of 'letting them play around' and release their work under different names - and again, that happened to the Furious Five, with "We Rap More Mellow" being released as the work of The Younger Generation. And then there were bootleg compilations released for the deejays - packages of "essential" disco songs pressed as unofficial collections, distributed behind the counter of record stores.

Our TRACK OF THE WEEK is the first of those. A recording of a live event - something that we now recognize as the first rap battle, Busy Bee Starsky vs. Kool Moe Dee. A battle that Starsky phoned in because he assumed he'd have no real competition, and Moe came loaded for bear for. This one's a slaughter, kiddos.

And we're gonna have a lot to say about hip hop in the future... but for now, that gets you to the starting line.

Class dismissed.

[moondoll4dg]

Being Beautiful is a Lifestyle

Lesson 3 - Beautiful Personality (stop being crazy!)

Living a beautiful lifestyle means being beautiful on the inside. My goal and what I would encourage to other people is to be a good, innocent person. It’s okay to be a good girl.

1. When I say innocent, I don’t mean clueless. The idea is always having good intentions and being positive. Not simply being naive and letting people take advantage of you. Of course, you can’t always be happy. When things aren’t going your way, it’s important to recognize that it will pass and look toward to future. It’s okay to optimistic, excited, and happy.

2. Don’t feel pressured by others to act in a way that doesn’t feel right. Listen to your intuition. If something doesn’t feel right in a person or a situation, then start looking for solutions. Avoid surrounding yourself with people who are manipulative, vindictive, and are content with acting out of rage and carelessness.

3. Strive to be aware of yourself and your actions. Don’t let strong emotions take you over in an environment where it’s not appropriate. Be gentle with others and do everything with a sense of grace, even if you’re doing something you don’t like. A sense of grace means having an air of professionalism and collectedness. Staying calm even when things don’t go your way.

4. Having a personality like this makes you seem like an angel to other people. And people who are always negative and suffering will always be attracted to what they don’t have. They want your sweetness, your intentions, your inner beauty. Don’t let them take advantage of you and know when to stand up for yourself.

5. Remember that the same way you might not understand why someone would do things that are hurtful, at the same time, they can’t understand you. They might not comprehend why you are patient and caring, and that’s okay. Not everyone will be on the same page so don’t waste time and energy wondering why people do what they do. Just worry about yourself.

[spiderpanic]

3. Beware the one party state.

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The parties that remade states and suppressed rivals were not omnipotent from the start. They exploited a historic moment to make political life impossible for their opponents. So support the multi-party system and defend the rules of democratic elections. Vote in local and state elections while you can. Consider running for office.

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Thomas Jefferson probably never said that "eternal vigilance is the price of liberty," but other Americans of his era certainly did. When we think of this saying today, we imagine our own righteous vigilance directed outward, against misguided and hostile creatures. We see ourselves as a city on the hill, a stronghold of democracy, looking out for threats that come from abroad. But the sense of the saying was entirely different: That human nature is such that American democracy must be defended from Americans who would exploit its freedoms to bring about its end. The American abolitionist Wendell Phillips did in fact say that "Eternal vigilance is the price of Liberty." He added that "The manna of popular liberty must be gathered each day or it is rotten."

The record of modern European democracy confirmed the wisdom of these words. But 20th century saw earnest attempts to extend the franchise and establish durable democracies. Yet the democracies that arose after the first world war (and the second) often collapsed when a single party seized power in some combination of an election and a coup d'etat. A party emboldened by a favorable election result, or denying an unfavorable one, might change the system from within. When fascists or Nazis or communists did well in elections in the 1930s or '40s, what followed was some combination of spectacle, repression, and salami tactics- slicing off layers of opposition one by one. Most people were distracted, some were imprisoned, and others were outmatched.

The hero of a David Lodge novel says that you don't know, when you make love for the last time, that you are making love for the last time. Voting is like that. Some of the Germans who voted for the Nazi party in 1932 no doubt understood that this might be the last meaningfully free election for some time, but most did not. Some of the Czechs and Slovaks who voted for the Czechoslovak Communist party in 1946 probably realized that they were voting for the end of democracy, but most assumed they would have another chance. No doubt the Russians who voted in 1990 did not think that this would be the last free and fair election in their country's history, which (thus far) It has been. Any election can be the last, or at least the last in the lifetime of the person casting the vote. The Nazis remained in power until they lost a world war in 1945, the Czechoslovak communists until their system collapsed in 1989. The Russian oligarchy established after the 1990 elections continues to function, and promotes a foreign policy designed to destroy democracy elsewhere: via propaganda, subversion, and invasion.

Does the history of tyranny apply to the United States? Certainly the Americans who spoke of "eternal vigilance" would have thought so. The logic of the system they devised was to mitigate the consequences of our real imperfections, not to celebrate our imaginary perfection. We certainly face, as did the ancient Greeks, the problem of oligarchy- ever more threatening as globalization increases differences in wealth. The odd American idea that giving money to political campaigns is free speech means that the very rich have far more speech, and so in effect far more voting power, than other citizens. We believe that we have checks and balances, but have rarely faced a situation like the present: when the less popular of the two parties suppresses voting, claims fraud when it loses elections, and controls the majority of State houses. The party that exercises such control proposes few policies that are popular with the society at large, and several that are unpopular -and thus must either fear democracy or weaken it.

Another early American proverb held that "where annual elections end, tyranny begins." Will we come to see the elections of 2024 much as Russians see the elections of 1990, or Czechs The elections of 1946, or Germans the elections of 1932? This, for now, depends on us. Much needs to be done to fix the gerrymandered system so that each citizen has one equal vote, and so that each vote can be simply counted by a fellow citizen. We need paper ballots, because they cannot be tampered with remotely and can always be recounted. We need to remove private funding from what should be public campaigns for office. We will have to take seriously our own constitution, which forbids oath-breaking insurrectionists from running for office. This sort of work can be done at the local and state levels. Any future elections will be a test of American traditions.

(Timothy Snyder, "On Tyranny")

[han-ban-bam]

🐥 🫧 🐻

No krakens gonna take a punt while Halsin is there

[lazylittledragon]

i said that gale and cyra have disaster romcom energy and now it's all i can think about

[matomai]

Medical malpractice duo

[lunian]

made a couple of posts about Astarion being hilarious gremlin but never made a collection of Gale's silly talks?? I should've fixed it

[hypo-critic-art]

Will you Bill my Valentine?

[mrsjellymunson]

If you need to, you can catch up here

💗💗💗

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Another year has passed, and with it the opportunity to reflect back on all that has happened. While my growth was not as dramatic as last year, I can still see lots of positive change.

I'll never have enough ways to say thank you for all the love and support you have given me this year. On to 2025!

(2023 summary here!)

[catcherwrites]

For the record, you can pry my “Sarai used to be in the Crownguard before she married Harrow” headcanon from my cold, dead hands

Amaya trained the Standing Battalion and Sarai trained the Crownguard, and their ability to work together is why Katolis had the strongest fighting force in the Pentarchy

You can also pry “Sarai and Soren were insanely close before her death” from my cold, dead hands. Maybe not even then, because I’m gripping this idea tightly, even in death

Sarai helped Soren and his family manage his illness because of her experience with Damian. And Soren was just so excited that the Head Crownguard was hanging out with him! Even when he was at his worst, he’d always perk up if he could see Sarai train the soldiers from his bedroom window, or regale him with stories of legendary battles at his bedside

After Soren got better and Sarai left the Crownguard to become Princess of Katolis, she offered to show him the basics of swordplay and strategy to help Soren with all of his pent-up energy. Even though he wouldn’t be interested in poetry until years later, Soren was introduced to the concept through Sarai, who’d recite some of Damian’s old work for him during their time together. Sarai had essentially become one of Soren’s constants after his family fell apart with Lissa leaving, Viren growing cold, and Claudia throwing herself into magic

At least until she died, heroically saving his dad

[bunniebi]

Sevdoll!

Progress pictures and such (Also seven in what looks like a bonnet which was needed bc the hair kept getting in my way...)

Not pictured: all my attempts of dyeing the yarn to get the colour i wanted by just guessing and rettrying... i also remade a lot of things a couple of times just bc i didnt know how to do it.

[isda-bata]

[dekariosclan]

Gale Math

So, we all know that in the epilogue, Gale tells Tav:

I love you.

And if you look at the datamined dialog files and read the dev notes, you’ll see this:

Devnote: With the warmth of having said this a thousand times before.

So, taking that statement as a FACT (which, you know, I’m certain it was intended to be…) we now have a solid numerical value to start with: 1000.

Next, we know that per the narrator at the epilogue start, it’s been 6 months since the defeat of the netherbrain; therefore it’s been 6 months since Gale and Tav got engaged/agreed to live together. We’re going to conclude that they have spent every day together since then.

6 months = 182.5 days

Now, assuming that Gale says ‘I love you’ to Tav on a relatively similar schedule each day (ex: when they first wake up, when Gale heads out to Blackstaff Academy, etc. etc.) we can make an equation:

1000 declarations of love divided by 182.5 days = the amount of times Gale tells Tav he loves them every single day.

We solve the equation and get 5.47945205

We round that down, and voila! We now have flawless mathematical proof that

Gale says ‘I love you’ to Tav an average of 5 times every single day