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eds-gryff · 2 years ago

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Letters and Lust

Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Requested by @potatosdragon (hope it’s to your liking!)

‘Hi again,

I really liked the writing you made with my idea, and I just thought of another one and had to send it to you.

So it's Edmund Pevensie again

And the reader has been sent to a boarding school so the writing would be letters sent between the reader and ed. Maybe he sends her a scandalous one and the teachers find it.

It might be a bit vague so I would totally understand if you don't want to write it but I just needed to see if you would.

Thank you so much’

Y/N- Your Name

L/N- Last Name

Y/H- Your Hometown/Home-Country

Y/n/N- Your Nickname

There is no mention of Narnia, so the fic can either be taken as taking place in a non-Narnia world, or just that the sex and the letters are more important than ruminating on the left-behind fantasy world 🤷‍♀️

Warning : smut, explicit language, charming-and-sweet-boyfriend!Edmund

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Mareafe Academy

6th September, 1944

Dearest Edmund,

I have literally just sat down on the bed in my dormitory, and the FIRST thing I did was pull out a piece of paper and a pen so I could write to you. And, alright, perhaps I also arranged my novels in the little bedside table I have.

I’m early, and my dorm-mates haven’t arrived yet, so I can write in peace and solitude, too- shucks, I won’t be having much of that anymore, will I? It hasn’t even been twenty minutes in the boarding school yet, but I already really miss day school. However DO you manage at boarding school??? And you’ve been studying at one since you were eleven!

I miss you, Ed. I miss your freckles. I miss you holding my hand. I miss zoning out of the conversation when you talk about chess. I miss you not even realising that I’ve zoned out.

I wish my parents weren’t going away to Y/H for the rest of the year- yes, I will miss them, too- and I wish that St. Finbar’s had a vacancy so I could have attended then, because I would have been close to you throughout the year then. I really thought that’s how it would happen- that once school started again, you’d be going to Hendon, and I’d be going to St. Finbar’s, and we’d be close-by, like always. I mean, the last couple of years, we were together all the time, because the war had closed the schools down.

I love you. Chess-obsessed idiot you are, but I love you so much. Alright, you’re not an idiot, you’re the smartest person I know, but still. Your cheeks get so red when I call you an idiot.

I have to go, I can hear footsteps coming to this room. You know what that means- people. Ugh. I do not like people.

I’ll post this when I get time, and you BEST write me back as soon as possible! Bye-bye, darling.

Love, Y/N

Y/N stared at the letter after she capped her pen, and continued staring at it even as the noise of chattering and laughter filled the room.

She finally stopped staring once one of the girls approached the bed she was sitting on, with a welcoming smile- probably one of the old students- and she put down the letter. As she sat up and readied herself to stand up, and- regrettably- socialise, her eyes fell on the letter one last time.

‘Dearest Edmund’ were the two words she managed to read, and she smiled to herself.

The day after that, Y/N hurried to the telephone room during the break, after the classes of the day and before the prep-time of the evening. Her hurrying was because the monitor of her form had come by her solitary armchair, where she’d been reading the newest Nancy Drew, and informed her that her mother was calling.

“Hello, M-?”

“Don’t finish the word, darling, I’m not your Mum.” Came the lovely voice of her even lovelier boyfriend, Edmund Pevensie. “Did I get the routine right? It’s your break now, yeah?”

“Yes- it is-” Y/N had sent him her class-routine along with the letter, “but- I thought- the monitor said that-”

“Oh, I just put Susan on the telephone for that.” He chuckled. “She sounds very much like a priggish old lady.”

Y/N snorted, after which he continued, sounding a bit nervous, “Wasn’t sure how receptive a teacher or monitor would be to a young man calling and asking for the prettiest person in school.”

Her cheeks were already scarlet, “Ed, you haven’t even seen the others in the school.”

“And I don’t need to.”

“You charmer, you.” Y/N spoke, toying the telephone wire around her fingers. Then her voice softened, dropping to a whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His voice softened, as well, and she could imagine the tenderness in his chocolate brown perfectly. “I miss you, Y/n/N.”

“Me too- and the fact that I probably won’t see you until Easter break-” her parents would be returning to Finchley then, “which is SEVEN MONTHS FROM NOW, is just torture.”

“I couldn’t agree more. The moment I’ve enough money, I’m coming up there and we’re spending the weekend at some cosy inn.”

Her blush deepened, and- oh, how she wanted to kiss him. And more. Oh, she truly wanted that inn-weekend immediately.

Still, she spoke teasingly, “I think the Headmistress might have some problems with you whisking away one of her students for the entire weekend.”

“What can educational administrators or institutions do when it comes to true love?” Edmund spoke dramatically to his girlfriend, and Y/N- giggling again- could visualise him having his hand on his heart. “Oh, I did love the birthday gift by the way, my last suspenders were hand-me-downs. But why-”

“Because-” Y/N’s voice lowered again, but it wasn’t so much as it was sultry, “I like to hold them and tug at them when I’m on top of you, and honestly, with the state the last ones were in, I was afraid they’d tear the moment I touched them.”

She glanced at the door of the tiny telephone room, just to make sure there was privacy- before turning back to the telephone.

“And- your suspenders aren’t the only thing I want to tear off you, you know.”

She heard a gulp on the other end, and then Edmund’s hoarse voice speak, “What I would give to be back to the ninth of August- and the twelfth- and the sixteenth- and the twenty-third- and the twenty-fifth- and the twenty-sixth- and the thirty-first- and the first two days of September.”

Visions of Edmund, his pale, freckled body under her, on top of her, beside her, kissing her, touching her, licking her, fucking her- made their way immediately into Y/N’s mind, and she clenched the telephone receiver tight.

They weren’t visions, they were memories, and she pushed her legs pressed together.

“I can’t believe you remember all the days.”

“I can’t believe we had less than a month of it.” He whispered back, huskily, and Y/N licked her lips. “Oh, Y/n/N-”

“If you keep calling me that, I will run back to Finchley and have-” oh, she couldn’t say the word, she didn’t know if the walls were soundproof!, “and read with you in front of your entire family.”

“Read?” Oh, she just knew that Edmund was smirking. “Read what?”

“Everything you can imagine.” Oh, she could be husky and seductive, too! “Everything you want.”

“Everything we want.” He corrected immediately, and Y/N could no longer ignore how wet she was. “I- oh, goodness gracious, I need to have a cold shower now.”

“I need to have you, but I’ll have to settle for a shower, too.” She just hoped none of her dorm-mates asked why she was having a shower at such an odd time. “I should go, prep-time is about to start. Call me earlier next time, my love.”

“Okay, will do.” Edmund promised. He’d call her all the time- it was the only way for her to be in his life for the next seven months. Well, that, and letters. Yes, letters... He could make good use of those, too. He really would miss his girlfriend terribly. “I love you, Y/n/N.”

Y/N sighed, and rested her head against the wall- wishing it was her boyfriend’s shoulder instead. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she missed her family- missed home- she had to miss the love of her life, too.

“And I love you, Edmund.”

Edmund was not at school. He was grateful for that- though, not as much as Peter or Susan were, and more than Lucy was- for he quite enjoyed the time at home, with his family. He didn’t mind school, generally, for he liked to read, and learn, and he did well in tests- but who could pick school over home?

Certainly not he.

Regardless of his gratitude for not being at school, he did regret that he was at home- because of Y/N. It was entirely unjust that she was stuck there, in some boarding school she had never been to, with her family travelling away for some urgent emergency, away from her home, whilst he was at home and with his family.

He wished he could go to her- he badly wanted to see her, be with her. Just for half a day, even. He was intending to, and had even started planning to go there for Christmas, but his parents had informed them that their grandparents were coming to stay Christmas week- which effectively poured water on his half-formed plans.

All they had now was letters. Not even telephone calls- at least for the present, for the old telephones had been removed, and new ones were being put in, and Y/N had said that she didn’t know how long it would take in her last letter. There was only one working telephone in the entire school, the Headmistress’s, and, as his dear girlfriend had said, “I don’t think she’ll be very keen to let me use it so I can hear sweet nothings from my boyfriend.”

Edmund was making the most of the letters.

Several of the ones he’d written were humorous- even if he did say so himself, droll, and loving, chronicling the things that had been happening at home and with him, as well as asking Y/N what was happening with her and showing sympathy for her ‘incarceration’ (as she put it in one of her letters) in school.

My cousin, Eustace, came over with his parents for Dad’s birthday. You’ve met him, the shrill kid with the eyebrows, and the terrible name- Eustace Clarence Scrubb? Anyway, they were to stay the entire weekend, which everyone- including them- were very annoyed about, but we all had decided to take it as much in stride as possible. But Eustace is just so annoying, and he was driving us four MAD the entire day- to show how much, even LUCY asked for him to shut up. Well, she said ‘please, be quiet, I have a headache’, but that’s ‘shut the bloody hell up!’ for her.

At any rate, he was driving us crazy. I told you he has a fixation with entomology- insects- and he brought his whole kit and collection of insects with him. Can’t part with it, apparently, since he’s observing some live specimens to note down some specifics about them that he feels the entomology books got wrong.

We (Peter and I, since Eustace is sharing our room) let those live specimens free. Freedom is extremely important, I know you agree, my darling.

In the morning, Susan- with such a smile on her face she resembled the Cheshire Cat- said that Eustace had demanded to go home, and so our aunt, uncle, and cousin were to leave for Cambridge after lunch by train.

And it’s only Saturday! HA.

It is unfair, Y/n/N, far too unfair that you’re in school, while most of the country isn’t! It should be a law that each educational institution should open and close at the exact same times, and that there should be the same number of hols- otherwise, it’s just bloody unjust. If I wasn’t already sure that I want to be a lawyer, this would have made it CERTAIN for me.

You deserve better, my love. Especially since you hate school so much. If I could swap places with you, I would. I’d look very pretty in a skirt and your school’s uniform, don’t you think?

Did you read the new Hardy Boys? The Melted Coins? Frankly, I’ve been enjoying Nancy Drew more than the last couple of Hardy Boys- is just me? I prefer mysteries related not to treasure nowadays, I feel. Buried treasure just feels far too overused.

But several were- they were not humorous and sympathetic and bibliophilic as much as they were libidinous.

Edmund wrote those letters late at night, when his brother was fast asleep and snoring. He was a night owl, thankfully- though, not as much as Y/N, whose sleeping schedule was more vampiric than human. He’d write the letters, burning the midnight oil, blush quite brilliantly at the contents of what he’d written as well as the images of his beautiful girl from that his mind came up with, and then he would go and post the letters the next morning.

Darling, you know I think a lot, but you know what I think the most about?

You. Always you. Your smile, your eyes, your eyebrows, the nose I love to kiss, the curve of your lips, and your hips. How I hold them when you take me inside you. The way your eyes flutter when I flick your nipples, how your mouth opens whenever I lick at your sex.

How incandescent you look during and after sex, on top of me or under, your body pressed hard against me. How your lips call my name, how my name sounds in your voice. We had so few moments where we could do all that- but we really made the most of it, and I’m endlessly grateful. And we’ll see each other very soon, and I SWEAR all our fantasies will be indulged.

You make me tremble, and you leave me breathless, especially when I look at your face flushed with ecstasy and when I hold you in my arms while making love. And I love you so much in those moments, as I love you in every moment I live.

I miss your tits. Your lovely, large, lovely tits. I miss how you giggled when I kissed them. I miss all of you.

Do you know I have to keep taking showers more than once every day? Every time I think of you, I just get so hard and I need to get myself off, after which I need to clean up- consequently showers.

Your last letter, about the- about the swimsuit and the swimming exhibitionism thing- I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard from getting myself off. If it’s your hands or mouth, yes, but not from my own hands.

I want that, too. You know that. I want all of that, so BADLY. Sometimes I’ll wander down some alleyways, the ones that are shortcuts, and I’ll think of pushing you against a wall and fucking you then and there. I think of you wearing those sexy knee-socks as you spread yourself on the bed. I’ll think of how bright your eyes get when I enter you, and-

Fuck, I’m hard again. Bloody hell, Y/n/N, I’ve already showered twice today! I’m going to die of a cold, at this rate.

Chocolate is my favourite taste. I adore chocolate, and I’d probably eat the floor if it was made of it. I mean, no offence to those five kids, but I should have gotten a Golden Ticket to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.

But I adore tasting you, too. I love you writhing under me, as I kiss along your thighs, and I love you pulling my hair when I finally have my tongue inside you. I adore everything about you, every single thing- but, gosh, your taste. You taste like oranges, and I drink your essence like I’ve been thirsty for centuries. I’m a rational person, easily the wisest in my family- not that that’s a difficult achievement- but you, Y/n/N, you drive me wild.

I want you to fuck me. I want you kneeling in front of me, your mouth around me, sucking me harder and faster. I want you to make me moan your name over and over and over until you unravel me completely. I want to give you hickeys everywhere. I want to be yours. I want to be inside you again. I want you.

Y/N’s replies would come the very next day, and he would lock himself in the bathroom whenever he read them.

Her replies were even more explicit and- as she had herself said in a telephone call- more unhinged than his.

Every night before I sleep, I masturbate. I close my eyes, fix my blanket, and then I touch myself. I touch myself, and I think of how you hold me. I touch myself, and I think how you kiss me. I touch myself, and I think of how you lick my breasts, how you suck at my clit. I touch myself, and my body shakes, and I think of how you fuck me. I come, somehow, my hips lifting, and I think of you and only you, my dearest.

Then I go to the bathroom to pee and wash my hands, and then, just as I’m about to fall asleep, I think of you again.

I turn, shoving my face into my pillow, and I fuck myself again, all the while wishing it was your fingers and your mouth and your cock inside me instead.

I drew you naked in class today. I spent a lot of time on your fingers. And your freckles. I really, truly, madly love your freckles. I love that I’ve kissed all of them, all over your body. Even the ones on your cock. I love them. I love you.

Was down swimming today- it’s cold weather usually, but somehow it was pretty warm today. I was really glad, and the MOMENT we finished breakfast, I ran to get my swimsuit and went to the pool. I mean, I didn’t run, I definitely never run, but I did walk very fast.

So I went to the pool, wearing my swimsuit and a bathrobe over it, and as I was taking it off, I wished you were there. I wanted you to watch me. I wanted to take off my robe, and my swimsuit, and I wanted you to see me, your pretty eyes going dark as I get naked. And I wanted you to take off whatever you were wearing, too- hopefully suspenders. I love you wearing suspenders, and I love to drag them off you. Obviously, I’d be watching you as well, because how can I ever NOT look at you?

And then I wanted to make love with you then and there. Outside, in public, uncaring of whether anyone could see. I still want it.

Writing this down, I’m throbbing again. I can smell how wet I am, goodness.

I might kill someone if I don’t get you inside my cunt right NOW.

P.S. (adding this in the morning), I didn’t kill anyone. A lot of people at school make me murderous, but I’ve had self-control so far.

I have, however, put a photograph of myself in this letter, one that I’m sure you’ll like. I’m not as adept a photographer as you- you know how much I fidget- but, again, I think you’ll like it. And I hope, love, that you’ll send me one in reply, too- only if you want to.

I love you. And enjoy my tits. Let me know what effect they have on you.

“Post’s here early!” One of Y/N’s classmates called out- she had just stood up to leave the Dining Hall, and had seen the postman walk across the doorway at the far end of it. “Oh, hope Mum got me the hair-band I fancied!”

As her friend pulled her down to the seat, teasing her in whispers that she needed a few dozen hair-bands to keep her flyaway hair in control, Y/N stood up.

She never ate much in the mornings, anyway- if it wasn’t compulsory, she would absolutely have skipped breakfast every day, waking up exactly six minutes before classes started. And now that mail was here early, she would go and see if she had letters- she usually had one from Edmund every other day, and one from her family every week, as well as occasional letters from some other friends she had left behind. There were, though, also many days that she did not have letters.

Today was not one of those days.

Recognising Edmund’s signature on the back of the envelope, Y/N snatched it from the tray of letters, and grinned hugely. She grinned so widely, in fact, that a group of first-formers heading her way saw her and ran away in the opposite direction.

She usually opened letters from her darling boyfriend in private, since their letters were private, and- more often than not- intimate. Today, though, she lacked the patience and ripped it open as soon as she reached the- thankfully empty, since most of the school was still at breakfast- entrance hall of Mareafe Academy.

Her fingers felt the texture of the letter’s paper- but along with it, they felt a much smoother, cooler surface. She pulled both out immediately- she was a curious creature, and then Y/N almost dropped the envelope.

She wasn’t just curious. She was forgetful as well, and she’d forgotten what she’d sent along with her last letter. And that she’d added a request, of sorts, for a similar response.

And she had got it.

It was a photograph of Edmund. He’d clearly taken it himself, from the angle- and another, far more clearer thing, was that he was naked. He was utterly, completely naked, from head to thigh- that was as much was there in the picture. Oh, and his thighs- what lay in between them- Y/N licked her lips.

Almost immediately, she bit her bottom lip to keep from accidentally moaning, and then Y/N hurried to the staircase that led up to the dormitories to sit down on the fifth step. Setting down the letter and the envelope on the sixth step- yes, yes, she would read it in a second, she desperately wanted to read what Edmund wrote, but she just needed to admire the gorgeous being that the love of her life was- she looked at the photograph even longer. Her eyes danced around to his pale and lithe form, to the flat of his abs that she’d press her palms against sometimes, to different spots of him she’d sucked, to all the starry freckles she had kissed, to his lovely lips that gave her kisses that brought her both calm and passion, and to all the parts of him that she adored.

She would absolutely be missing her first class, so she could take advantage of an empty dormitory- she would look at the photograph, and then she would mas-

“Child, is this yours?” Came a voice- and then, immediately, a hand bent down to pick up the letter and the envelope carelessly left on the stair.

Y/N turned, in panic and horror and so many other unpleasant, cardiac-arrest-reminiscent symptoms- but the damage was done. The form-mistress for the first form, as well as the House-Mistress for the school House she was in, Ms. Potts, had her hands on her letter.

And her eyes were on the letter- growing wider and wider and wider and wider with every passing second.

“What,” Ms. Potts said, her lips pursed so tightly together they seemed conjoined, and her fair cheeks turning a blotchy red, “is this abhorrent, shocking, and vile thing sent to you?”

Oh, Heavens. Had Edmund written about how much he liked to have her sit stop his face? Or perhaps some details about how she sucked his cock.

Y/N did not say anything, because she felt petrified. Mortified. She had wished for death before, but she didn’t think she’d ever wished it quite so keenly and desperately. She’d take anything! Couldn’t those air raids start again!? Just for the day?!

There used to be a chandelier in the entrance hall- it had been removed as the war had begun. She wished it was still there, so it could fall on her.

Ms. Potts shook in rage for a few more moments, apparently as unable as Y/N was of coherent speak- before spotting something in the student’s hand.

“What is that?” She asked, her gaze fixed on the photograph of Edmund. “Was that with his letter?”

“No.” The lie was immediate, and convincing. Talking, she was not very good at, but lie she could very well. “It’s a photograph of- of the tulip-bushes at our house in Finchley, ma’am. My parents asked a neighbour with green thumbs to look after the bushes, so they’ve bloomed again despite the house being empty-”

“Is that so?” The teacher cut off the narration, looking unimpressed. At least the splotches of red were lessening now, Y/N thought. “Let me see it, then, give it-”

“No!” Oh, she could have her letter, but she would not give away a photograph of Edmund naked! He’d trusted her with it, and she would DIE before letting a stranger see it. No one ever deserved to have their personal anecdotes or their personal photographs or documents be circulated to or by those who were never intended to see them. “Sorry, Ms. Potts, but it’s my photograph.”

“Hm, of course. Privacy is important.” Ms. Potts nodded, seemingly backing down. “But so is decency, Ms. L/N, and the things written in this letter-”

“I haven’t read the letter, ma’am.” Y/N said, because what else could she say? She didn’t know! She still felt like she was having a heart attack, and she was anxious about whether the hospital- oh, anxiety. She felt anxiety, and if Ms. Potts didn’t give her back her belongings, she may devolve into a full-blown panic attack. “I don’t know what it says. I’m not even sure whom it’s from-”

“Says it is from ‘your devoted and dearest Edmund’.” Her lip curled, and Y/N couldn’t be sure if that was a hint of humour or hatred. She could be sure, though, that she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Or at least transport her to somewhere far, far away, somewhere that was preferably known as ’Edmund’s arms’. “I thought such adoring signatures died out after the Georgian era.”

“I always thought that such signatures existed only in books.” The girl gave a shrug- not a nonchalant one, though that was the effect she was trying to convey. “Maybe- maybe that’s what this is, Ms. Potts, someone having transcribed a letter from a novel and sent it to me-”

“Admirable attempt at lying, L/N, but the lie only makes things worse. Mareafe Academy does not condone lying, cheating, or-” Ms. Potts looked down at the letter again, and the splotches reappeared, “such disgusting sentiments being written to the young women of tomorrow!”

“Oh, but- but, Ms. Potts-”

Why wasn’t there a dragon here? Either she could ride away on it, or it could eat her. Either way, her problem would be solved

Oh, she so hated to exist in a world of reality.

“And, according to devoted and dearest Edmund,” The teacher’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and it didn’t sound nearly as attractive as Edmund’s sarcasm did, “you were the one who asked to be sent such uncouth correspondence.”

Well, what was she to do now? Throw Edmund under the bus and keep him safe, or tell the truth and secure expulsion?

She couldn’t do either of that. She would protect Edmund and she would make sure her parents did not have to feel the shame of a child expelled from school.

What excuse could she give...

“I’m a writer.” Y/N said suddenly, before glancing down at the letter again- as soon as Ms. Potts lost focus on it, she’d grab it back. “I asked a friend of mine to help me with certain- salacious parts of the novel I’m working.”

Ms. Potts gave her a look, “Are you planning to become the female D. H. Lawrence, Ms. L/N? Need I remind you, most of his books were banned because of their- their inappropriate content.”

“And now he’s one of the most famous writers of the century.” Y/N pointed out. “I- I think that counts as a win.”

Ms. Potts rolled her eyes, “Would you like me to take this letter to the Headmistress? Perhaps she’ll motivate you with suspension to show her the photograph-”

“No!” She burst out again, shifting her weight from one leg to another, that was how nervous she was. She kept teetering-tottering. Edmund’s photograph would ensure expulsion.

Oh, why was this happening!? Wasn’t it bad enough that she’d had to wake up early for breakfast- even earlier than usual, because her dorm-mate had pulled the curtains back to let in the rare sunshine!? Waking up was awful enough!

“No- please, Ms. Potts, I don’t- I’m so- I’m sorry. I- promise that- that I won’t ask for such-” loving, “vile letters anymore. Please, I’m so very sorry, ma’am-”

“Alright, child. Calm yourself.” She sighed. Generally, she would have taken the student and the letter to the Headmistress, for its contents were that questionable- but she had a soft heart when she hadn’t had her morning coffee. And- well, she knew the girl was having a hard time with her parents so far away, and- and, between the inappropriate things, she could read the love that seeped out from every word. Edmund truly loved Y/N, despite the disgusting things he did to her and she did to him. “No supper for you for the rest of the week, L/N. Your suppertime will be devoted to extra prep time, and you’ll have two slices of toast and a glass of water before you head to bed.”

“Okay.”

At least it wasn’t expulsion- and she’d just spend the prep time daydreaming about Edmund. About the food, though- she usually was very hungry at dinner, but she’d have to make do.

“Thank you so much, ma’am- and, again, I- I am so- so sorry.”

“Hmph.” She made a sound to acknowledge the apology, and then held out the letter. “I’ll be reading the rest of your letters from this Edmund from now on.”

She nodded quickly.

“Now go put it somewhere private, I will come check in five-” after she had her coffee, “and for the Lord’s sake, get to class on time!”

She nodded again, grabbing the letter and the envelope, before running straight to her thankfully empty dormitory.

She had intended on locking the door, undressing- at least part-way- and then fingering herself until she came, while looking at Edmund’s photograph and/or reading his letter.

Y/N still wanted to do that, she thought, as she sank onto her bed. She wanted to do it even more, in fact, because now she had his letter, and she was reading all the beautifully dirty things Edmund wanted her to do to him or wanted to do to her- but she would refrain. Her sex was throbbing and her mouth was dry, but Ms. Potts would be up any second, and if she walked in on her masturbating- well, there would be no hope for her at ALL then.

For once, she would have self-control when it came to Edmund.

“Oh, darling.” She said, falling back on the bed and letting out a very long sigh. She wanted to go back to sleep. “Our fucking has fucked things up.”

Two months later:

“Yes, fuck, ah-ah, yes-” Y/N moaned, one of her hands gripping the bark of the tree she was pressed up against, while the other fisted itself firmly into Edmund’s hair, pushing his head further between her thighs.

They were in a clearing in the woods behind school- not too far in that they’d get lost, and yet not too near the entrance that they’d be seen by someone from her school. It was parents’ weekend- and, in place of her parents, Edmund had come to visit. Ms. Potts had enquired if she would be alone the weekend, and Y/N had lied that her uncle and aunt would be coming to take her for the two days- and the moment that Ms. Potts had turned around, she’d grabbed her little case and run outside. Thankfully, in all the crowd of cars and people outside the school, no one had noticed that the person she was hugging was a boy her own age, or that the hug was decidedly not platonic.

After they’d escaped the school, Y/N had said something that they couldn’t enjoy themselves in a pool- sand then Edmund had completed her sentence by saying that at least they could have some pretty good fun in the woods.

Edmund had taken up a paper route the last few months, and had done some odd jobs around the neighbourhood- and Y/N had made some money by tutoring some first-years, too. She’d begun the tutoring as a way to lessen Potts’s suspicion- but it had had a monetary advantage, too. Pooling their money together, they’d managed to afford one night at a nearby bed-and-breakfast, and they had both been so excited, Edmund had got on the wrong train- he’d realised just before it had started- and Y/N had buttered her hair, instead of her toast.

Edmund dug his fingers into her leg that was thrown over his shoulders, his tongue licking a path along her sex, and he felt a deep tightening in the pit of his stomach. He was already pleasured and sated- the moment he had arrived at the school gate, and had seen her run towards him, after which she’d thrown her arms around him, he’d been utterly content. He was even more so now. He had missed her so much.

He reached up blindly- but he was so familiar with her body, that he found her bare breast at the first try, cupping it hard as he began to suck at her clit.

“Come on, Y/n/N. Say my name.” Edmund grinned wolfishly, as a muffled sigh left her lips. “Moan if you missed me, darling.”

And she did.

This was exactly- exactly- what she needed. What both of them did. What they’d needed and wanted for so long. How utterly she had missed him.

And, considering that they’d only had sex for about ten days back in August, it was truly astonishing how well he knew her body. He really was a fast learner.

He knew it so well that she just could not keep her mouth shut, though she knew she couldn’t be too loud, “Fuck, Edmund-”

Then his fingers joined, too, inching closer to her clit, making her gasp and shiver and doubling the building ecstasy.

Needless to say, it took hardly a couple of minutes for Y/N to reach her zenith, her body relaxing as she came.

“No, no, no.” She said, a moment after her breathing eased- Edmund was looking around for their long-discarded shirts, his suspenders (which looked even sexier than usual, perhaps because she was seeing him for the first time in months), and her skirt.

Her boyfriend looked at her inquiringly- good Heavens, he was licking his lips, she might orgasm just looking at that.

She pulled her knickers up and debated on putting on her bra- she was trying to wear them more often, despite how much she disliked them, because she’d heard a sixth-former whisper in the pool that wearing bras helped with back pain.

And she had a lot of back pain.

But she decided against it. A few more minutes wouldn’t make her back hurt even more.

“Come a little closer?”

Edmund obeyed, but still looked blank. He was perfectly content to just look at her- after months of just letters, most of which had been censored and sanitised after a point- he just wanted to gaze at her.

“Why, Y/n/N?” He asked, and was answered by Y/N kneeling, pulling his trousers down, and wrapping her mouth around him in one fluid moment. He started violently, quite staggered by the action, and drew a sharp gasp of a breath. “G-give a fellow some warning, darling.”

“As though you didn’t know-” She pulled away from his cock for just a moment to smile at him- going down on her had hardened him, which meant he was already close, “that I wouldn’t let you go without returning the favour. It’s been too long, love.”

“I- forgot.” His lashes fluttered, his breath coming in short bursts as she started to take him in her mouth again, her head bobbing up and down between his legs. “S- ach, Y/n/N-” she sped up the work of her tongue- harder, faster- and he had to bite down on his bottom lip to hold back a moan, “silly me.”

She sucked for a few, slow moments- not enough to make him come, but enough to make him tremble and moan her name- and she could feel herself throb again, because it wasn’t inside her mouth that she needed him.

But she’d contentedly settle for this for the moment- it was Edmund, she liked doing almost everything with him.

Carefully, she pulled her mouth away from him- and asked softly, “Do you like this, my love? Do you like my mouth around you, as I kneel for you? As I put my tongue on your cock?”

Before he could reply, she bent forward again and trailed her lips all over his length, sometimes darting her tongue out to lick a freckle or sensitive spot- and then began to suck once more.

Minutes later, as the birds chirped in the trees, they lay on the warm grass. They held hands as Edmund slid inside Y/N, into the togetherness and oneness they’d had too little of and they had missed for months.

The sun scattered through the canopy of trees, falling onto their bodies, which flushed and naked and tight together. Their lips were pressed together, too.

And when they came together, they whispered both I love you and I missed you.

After that, lying naked on the warm grass and in each other’s arms, they made fun of other people- specifically, teachers- and teased each other- both verbal and sexual, and bantered, all interspersed with a lot of kissing. There was a small picnic basket lying a few feet from them, as well.

It was going to be an amazing weekend.

----

Thank you for reading!

And requests are CLOSED. I have end semester exams in a week, and what have I been doing? Nothing that will help me pass and everything that will make me fail!

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