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#narnia imagine
lightwing-s · 5 months
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𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑
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pairing: peter pevensie x female! reader
summary: stuck with royal duties all day, peter and y/n eventually need a break to have... some adult fun.
word count: 1,5k warnings: sexual content, porn without plot, breast play, p in v.
a/n: wrote this one really quickly, surprisingly, and it's here mostly so i don't disappear again because of uni.
reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡
⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests: open⌟
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The two of you had been analyzing files, signing papers, doing the heavy (boring) duties of a royal side by side for hours now. The tiredness slowly catching up, but still concentrated on the task at hand. Or so were you, not him.
With light touches, you felt Peter’s fingers brush the hair off of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Focus on the task at hand, Peter.” you warned him kindly, knowing even your focus couldn’t last this long.
“But it is so hard,” he said, hand placed carefully around your neck, his fingers coming to play with the hairs at its nape, and his lips leaving soft kisses on your skin. “Especially when such a pretty lady is standing right next to you.”
Bobbing your head to the side instinctively, you allowed him access to more space. His lips lingered all over, teeth biting and leaving behind marks he adored to paint you with, marking you as his own. You let out a deep, long sigh, his touch enough to leave you inebriated. 
His free hand fell on your lap, trying to pull your skirt up, desperate to touch the warm skin of your legs. However, a quiet screeching noise took your focus away from him. You took his hand on yours, away from your legs, and laced your fingers, moving your head to stare him deep into his eyes.
He lingered there for a while, too drunk on you to be able to react too quickly, too immersed in your eyes to pay attention to anyone else. Getting closer to you again, you felt his breath hitting your neck before giving you another bite, stronger than the ones before, full mouth meeting your skin, dragging a long, drawn out moan out of your throat.
”Close the door behind you,” he ordered, looking at the guard standing in his office, just some feet away from you, from behind your head. “And tell your comrades they don’t need to stay too close.”
Watching the guard leave from the corner of your eyes, awkwardly and in a rush, you couldn’t help the smirk from spreading on your face as you felt Peter’s tongue touch the same spot he’d bitten just before, full on making out with your neck now.
“Better?” he asked, moving your chin so you could face him again. Now you, too drunk on him, could only reply with a simple nod of your head. “Great.”
The hand that once rested on your lap, and was then tangled with yours, freed itself from your hold and pulled at your cleavage, exposing one of your breasts that was soon covered by your husband’s lips.
Peter’s tongue flickered and toyed with your hardening nipple, his mouth spreading wilder to fit almost your entire tit inside of it. He sucked on hard, deep, while his tongue still tortured your reddish, sensitive nipple.
You were sure you could’ve come just from it, but perhaps knowing you way too well, your husband stopped right before your high could’ve been reached, climbing up your chest with kisses until his lips touched yours for a long deserved, passionate kiss.
“Come here.” he demanded, breaking away from your lips and pulling at your waist. Obliging, you sat on his lap, pulling your skirt up so your wet underwear met the hard bulge tightening his pants, resting your knee on his sides as his hands slid under your dress and you started to ride him while you were both still fully clothed. “Calm down, Yn…”
He tried, but your movements didn’t stop, and you crashed your lips together to shut him up, tongues fighting in a rushed, wet, desperate battle for control, neither wanting to give in. His hands slid up your tights, nails scratching along the way, taking a hold of the hem of your underwear, a hand on each side, pulling away ripping it apart, and without wasting a single beat, he threw it away to the other side of the room.
With the speed in which the underwear was pulled from your made the soak fabric rub rashly at your clit and leave behind a painful yet arousing sensation, only turning you on even more. Now, your sticky honey left a puddle on his pants, and you could feel his thick cock way better than before, as he too was now grinding rapidly against you.
The sensation, making your head spin and your legs tremble, stopped you from noticing his hands untying his pants, pulling it down while holding you up just enough for his cock to break free, hitting against your belly as you continued to grind on his tight. You also didn’t notice him rubbing himself up and down his length, movements conveniently hidden under your skirt, as you were too involved in your little tongue dance, sucking on his and trying to assert dominance. It was out of nowhere that you felt his cock entering you without care, stretching you out, feeling like you were ripping apart just like your underwear did.
“P-pete!” You screamed as you tried to adjust to his size, years together and still not used to it. But Peter was also impatient, the long hours of work boring you two to no end, leading to a desperate need for ecstasy and release.
He thrusted hard into you, as you tried to meet him halfway, bouncing up and down his length. At this point, he had already untied the laces of your dress and ripping open the remaining bits, fully exposing your breast as they bounced up and down with your movements. 
He pulled you towards him by the hips, closing every inch of space between you two as he tug on your arms, setting them over his shoulders and you wrapped them around his neck , all the while his own strong arms embraced you by your waist, trapping you against his own bare chest.
Your movements were never ceasing, never slowing down. Quite the opposite, actually, as the sound of skin hitting against skin only got louder, your own screams following,  and the chair beneath you cracked, trembled, threatening to break with every one of his thrusts.
All day you were unaware of how much you’d desired, of how much you needed your husband inside of you, touching you, adoring you. You were too busy to focus on that, but you kept secretly always thinking about it. 
When the tips of his fingers graced over the papers, following along the lines he read, the maps he analyzed, making you wish it was your skin he was playing with. When he bit his bottom lip when concentrating, every time he found a word he couldn’t understand, mistranslated or misplaced, or a topic that left him wondering, how you wish it was your lips he was biting instead. 
When his hands rested on your back whenever he called you over, pulling you to his side asking for assistance, and his fingertips lingered on the side of  your breasts, how you wished they were wrapped on them instead, playing with them bare.
You were hungry for him all day and only now realized. The ongoing sway of your hips a testament to this truth. Bodies all sweaty, dripping, clothes gluing to each  other’s skins. Your naked chest, your hard nipples rubbing against the warmth of his own sweat soaked chest.
A knot forming on your stomach announced the coming of your high, as you begged your husband to “Please, baby, cum with me.”
With your request, you felt his load shooting up inside you soon after, filling you up with his thick seed, your husband a whimpering, moaning mess underneath you, his sound alone enough to bring you to your climax as well, your own release mixing with his inside your aching walls.
As you both try to ride down your highs, you lay on his chest, head resting on his shoulder, both breathless, messy and numb from all the pleasure. He held your chin, leaving peck  all the way up till he felt the touch of your plump lips, giving you little kisses as he waited for you to recompose, pride blooming high inside of him, glad it was him and no one else making you feel this way.
There was, perhaps, nothing Peter loved more than watching you getting drunk on his dick, getting dumb on his touch, head completely empty from anything else. Your post sex glow his favorite version of you.
“Should we move to our chambers?” he whispered, not wanting to startle you, who still rested, with your eyes closed, on his shoulder.
Looking at him through long lashes, his dirty smirk adorning his well crafted lips, you found yourself obsessed with him all over again, just like every time he fucks you senseless. Obsessed with him just like the day you met, and the day you stood on the altar, and every single day after that and for the rest of your entire life, so you wished. 
Kissing his cheeks over and over, you take a look around the otherwise empty office, made warm by the fire burning in your fireplace, darkned by the lack candles, and now filled with the smell of sex.
“We have plenty of space here.” you told him, meeting his lips once again, royal business forgotten.
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pariahsparadise · 1 year
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ye of little faith | e. p.
nav. | m.list
summary: eustace doesn't believe that edmund has a girlfriend.
wc: 800
pairings: edmund pevensie x fem!reader
warnings: VERY unedited. also it's 1am and i just wrote this in a burst of inspiration, so please don't expect it to be good.
a/n: i don't really know if this will make sense to anyone lol, i think i wrote it in a confusing way, but hopefully it's okay. it's mostly eustace's pov, i wanted to try something new. also, this exact scenario has been in my head for months now.
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“There’s no way he has a girlfriend,” Eustace tells Lucy, barging into the room. She immediately knows who he’s talking about, able to hear Edmund on the phone downstairs, voice softer than it usually is, taking the tone he automatically opts for when he speaks to Y/N.
“Why?” Lucy asks, half-heartedly entertaining her annoying cousin while she thumbs through the pages of her book. Unfortunately for her, Eustace Scrubb brightens at the attention, straightening up and launching into a rather well-thought out spiel.
“First of all, it’s Edmund we’re talking about. He’s awkward, way too hostile and bad-tempered. Not to mention, he’s barely of average height, and his hair? Absolutely ridiculous.”
“Y/N likes it,” Lucy says mildly, earning a scoff from Eustace.
“Y/N.” he says with disbelieving scorn, “As if she actually exists. You expect me to believe that a woman as beautiful and intelligent as you lot claim she is would actually be interested in Edmund? And so interested that she calls and writes to him multiple times a week? Yeah, right. I bet that Ed’s hired an escort to help him forget about how lonely he actually is. Or he’s paying some poor girl to play the part of a caring partner.” Eustace has had many such theories, the more creative ones dealing with blackmail and holding family members hostage, but so far, monetary imbursements seem to be the most likely.
“Sure, Eustace,” Lucy mumbles, having checked out of the conversation a while ago. He shakes his head at her disinterest, convinced that he is right, and leaves the room, muttering to himself disbelievingly.
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A few days later, a painting gushes out water and swallows them whole, so poor Eustace, although having taunted his cousins with his skepticisms about the magical land of Narnia and called them fools for believing in the same, is forced to confront that he was wrong. 
Eustace is soaking wet and miserable, still slightly panic infused. He can’t believe his eyes, convinced that he hallucinated the last fifteen minutes. Sitting on the ship, the Dawn Treader, he watches as his cousins are recognised as King and Queen. He’s related to royalty. 
With a humorous snort, he realises that this is more believable than Edmund Pevensie having a girlfriend.
Hell, even the talking rat next to him is more believable.
He goes to voice the same, but is distracted by a joyous whoop descending from the sky, followed by a splash in the ocean. Eustace is too busy trying to catch a glimpse of the figure underwater to notice the hopeful glances Edmund and Lucy exchange, the faint tremour in Edmund’s hands as he snatches a telescope from a passing crew member, getting a clearer view.
“It is her!” Ed cries, only barely held back from jumping overboard by Caspian, who laughs fondly at the Just King. Eustace tries to hear what the Prince tells Edmund, but all noise turns to mush the second he sees the young woman surface, a brilliant smile on her face.
At first glance, he thinks it’s a siren. He’s heard stories about their enchanting beauty and ethereal forms, and Eustace does genuinely believe that this woman is too gorgeous to be human like he is. As she swims closer, though, and the ship's crew help pull her onto the ship, Eustace notices the lack of a tail. And though her hair is soaked and strewn across her face, and her clothes suction themselves to her skin, none of it takes away from her radiance.
It also doesn’t distract him from the fact that she’s walking right towards him. 
Eustace’s mouth goes bone dry, and he gulps nervously, afraid she’ll talk to him and afraid she won’t, when suddenly, Edmund swoops past him and towards the woman. He snatches her up in a passionate embrace, hands securing her to him as he twirls her around in sheer delight.
When they kiss, chaste but heady, Eustace decides that he has never actually known anything about anything.
He’s scouring the sky for flying pigs when he hears Edmund’s self-satisfied voice behind him, “And this, my very real girlfriend, Y/N, would be my cousin, Eustace Scrubb.”
“How do you do?” Eustace says weakly, extending a hand, trying his hardest not to faint when you take it.
“Pretty well. If only Edmund would- what was it again?- stop holding my family hostage, I think I’d be great,” you rib amiably, throwing back one of Eustace’s earliest theories back into his now scarlet face.
“No, darling, you’ve got it wrong, I’ve currently got your dogs kidnapped and ready to be shipped to the pound, remember?” Edmund joins in on the fun, his smile widening as he earns a couple of chuckles from you, and a darker flush from Eustace’s cheeks. 
Eustace Scrubb, though unwilling, is forced to admit, after watching the two of you interact, gravitating towards each other naturally, at ease with the love that surrounds you, his cousin’s eyes brighter than he’s ever seen them, that it is very believable for Edmund Pevensie to be dating Y/N L/N after all. 
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softguarnere · 4 months
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Something He Can't Have
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Edmund Pevensie x fem!reader
A/N: Not me falling back into one of my oldest hyperfixations after watching the movies this past week for Christmas 🥴 I honestly don't know what to say for myself, other than that I had fun writing this and it may have single-handedly saved me from my recent writing slump. Anyway, hope y'all like this, byeeee ✨💕 Warnings: none
Lucy lets out a groan that sounds so annoyed that it instantly draws Edmund back into the present moment. “Can I ple-ease say something now?” She asks Susan, who sits to her left at the banquet table.
Susan shushes her, but there’s no malice behind it. In fact, when she does allow a disheartened look to grace her face, she directs it toward Edmund. “No. I suppose we shouldn’t meddle.”
They’ve captured his interest. Which is something that seems nearly impossible, considering that he’s spent so much of this banquet staring at Peter and (Y/N) on the dance floor, watching his older brother enjoy dance after dance with her. And trying hard not to take it too personally when (Y/N) throws back her head to laugh every now and then at something that Peter has said. Usually, she only laughs like that at his jokes, and usually only when they’re alone together.
If Peter is making her come undone, allowing her to feel comfortable outside of the carefully crafted polite and diplomatic persona that (Y/N) has created for herself to use in Cair Paravel’s court, then she’s become relaxed with him. And who knows where that will lead?
“What are you talking about?” For good measure, Edmund tosses one last glance at the dance floor before turning his attention to his sisters.
“That!” Lucy exclaims, gesturing between Edmund and the crowd that swirl on the floor before them. “This!”
Edmund raises an eyebrow. “The ball?”
His younger sister groans, burying her head in her hands. “Oh, I give up!”
“Edmund,” Susan says sternly. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t get involved, but this has gone on long enough.” For a split second, the gentle queen loses her composure, though only ever so slightly. “I mean, for God’s sake! It’s downright painful to watch!”
Still confused, Edmund isn’t sure what to say that will clarify whatever his sisters are talking about without further upsetting them. Instead, he settles for biting his lip, glancing between his sisters and the dancing, trying to work out their meaning himself.
Susan sighs, turning to Lucy. “He’s either a better actor than we give him credit for, or he’s downright daft.”
“Help me out here,” Edmund says.
“(Y/N)!” Lucy hisses, leaning across Susan so that she can scold her brother without causing too much unwanted attention. “You’ve been following her around all lovesick for ages now, but you haven’t done anything. And now you’re all jealous watching her dance with Peter.”
“Am not!”
Lucy swats his arm. “You’ve been staring at them all night. If you like her so much, then you better do something before you lose her forever!”
In other situations, Susan might chide the youngest Pevensie sibling, telling her that she’s being a bit overdramatic before offering Edmund some sort of good-natured advice. Edmund looks to her expectantly, only to find her brown eyes full of disappointment; she agrees with Lucy.
“We can all agree that you wear green better than any other, Ed,” she says. “But jealousy is not a shade that suits you.”
“Me? Jealous?! Of who?”
But his sisters only fix him with knowing looks. It makes Edmund want to wither away from existence on the spot. He spent most of their lives before Narnia being jealous of Peter. It’s been hard, but it’s something that he’s worked on since they were crowned. He really thought that he had overcome it. Now, though, his sisters’ words, coupled with the funny feeling in his stomach . . . He feels like a man, trapped, full of guilt, and caught in the middle of something very private. Which innocent people with nothing to hide do not feel in situations like these.
I fancy (Y/N), he realizes, admitting it to himself for the first time. It feels demeaning, somehow, to put a label on the feelings that he’s been harboring in secret for so long. And I’m jealous because she likes Peter more than me, says the next one, which makes him feel even worse.
A warm hand takes hold of his and squeezes. For all the annoyance that Lucy has felt toward him in these past few minutes, she offers him nothing but a kind look and encouraging smile. “You have to do something, Ed.”
“I – “ The words clog in his throat, causing him to swallow thickly, trying to find some of the air which has suddenly become very scarce. As you spin by on the dance floor, Edmund can see how you’re smiling at Peter like he hung the moon, and how his older brother beams at you like you created all the stars. Who wouldn’t want to bask in the sun’s warmth like that? And what sort of evil would dare separate two people who appear to be so . . . so in love. “I can’t.”
“You can,” Susan reassures him. “Trust me, Ed.”
Edmund, however, can’t take his eyes off of you. “I can’t ruin that.”
“You won’t,” Susan says. And if Edmund had his wits about him, he would recognize that she says it with the tone of someone who is very sure of herself because she has access to information that no one else has. (She, after all, is your best friend. But facts like that tend to fall by the wayside in moments of intense anxiety such as this.) “Ed, it’ll be fine. Trust me.”
To unstick the words in his throat, Edmund reaches for his goblet and takes a swig of the drink from inside. If he’s really going to do this, he’ll need all the courage he can get, no matter where it comes from.
As the song ends, he pushes back his chair and begins to make his way around the table. Lucy squeals with delight from behind him, and both his sisters offer nods of encouragement and thumbs up when he turns back to them, unsure.
The next thing that he knows, he’s on the dance floor, maneuvering his way through the crowd to reach you –
He catches sight of you just as you excuse yourself from the dance floor. You disappear into the crowd before he can call out to you, though he reaches out a hand, like he might be able to catch you from afar.
“Edmund!” A well-meaning slap on the back announces Peter’s presence. His older brother throws an arm around his shoulders. He radiates heat after all that dancing. “I wondered when you might join us on the dance floor.”
“I’m not. I’m just looking for (Y/N).”
Peter’s smile doesn’t falter, despite the fact that the next words out of his mouth are devastating news. “I believe that she’s retiring for the night.”
“Oh?”
“She said that she needed some air, that she might go to bed.”
As one of Narnia’s kings, Edmund is inclined to stay present for the majority of this banquet. You, being a courtier, are free to go as you please, seeing as there are no diplomatic negotiations, no fates of any nations, resting on your shoulders. If things were different, he would find a way to go after you.
And he’s actually looking for an excuse to do so when Peter says something that makes him stop.
“I wish she would have stayed,” the High King sighs. “We were having such a good time.”
Edmund nods, hands involuntarily clenching into fists at his sides. His voice feels hollow when he replies, “It looked like you were having a good time.”
“I was thinking – “ A laugh cuts Peter off as he shakes his head, looking half embarrassed, half giddy. “I was actually just about to ask her to be my – my girlfriend.” On the last word, something most unusual happens – the High King blushes. Actually blushes! Who would have known that such a thing was possible?
To say that it catches Edmund off guard would be an understatement. He’s never seen Peter so vulnerable . . . so happy. It makes Edmund’s mouth go dry. He and Peter have had their differences throughout their lives, but he can’t just ruin his older brother’s chance at happiness.
“Oh.” Is all that Edmund can think to say. He hesitates for a moment before asking, “What do you think she’ll say?”
Peter laughs, breathlessly, happily. “Well, I’m hoping that she’ll say yes, of course. In fact – “ He glances in the direction that you disappeared in. “ – I would go talk to her now, if not for my responsibilities.”
“Go,” Edmund finds himself saying. He can feel Peter’s look of surprise mirrored on his own face. But if Peter is going to do this, if this is all really happening, he’d honestly rather get it over with. “I’ll cover for you here.”
Now it’s Peter who hesitates. After a moment, his face breaks into a wide smile. He claps Edmund on the shoulder. “You’re a good man, Ed.”
I wish I were better, the Just King thinks as he watches his older brother chase after the girl that they both love.  
From the banquet table, Lucy and Susan are giving him confused looks. Edmund only shrugs, then quietly rejoins them. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t want to explain what’s just happened. He recedes into himself, letting the party whirl by without him.
If only he were paying attention – then he would see the knowing look on Susan’s face.
. . .
It’s late when the banquet ends, and later still when Edmund slips into the library. He’s exhausted, but his mind is racing and won’t let him sleep. You and Peter had disappeared from the banquet hours ago. That’s plenty of time for his brother to have confessed to you and for you to have accepted. Dread fills him at the thought of the two of you happily announcing your new relationship the next morning at breakfast. He’ll have to face the two of you sometime, to muscle through his own pain and begin navigating a world where he has to accept that you’re in love with his older brother. But tonight, he can be amongst his books, which are a comfort.
He's so distracted that he doesn’t immediately notice you sitting by the fireplace, an open book on your lap, but a distracted look on your face as you watch the flames dance before you.
“Oh,” you both exclaim at the same time when you notice each other. The synchronicity makes you both laugh.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he apologizes.
“I didn’t mean to take your hiding spot,” you say in turn. You shut your book, but Edmund holds out a hand to stop you.
“You don’t have to leave on my account.”
You squint, studying him for a second, before nodding and settling back into the cushions behind you. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Carefully, Edmund takes a seat opposite you, gazing into the fire to gather his nerve. He didn’t expect to find you here. Didn’t expect to find you looking so . . . distracted and lonely as you stare into the fire, your book forgotten. He really shouldn’t pry. But you’re his friend, first and foremost, and he doesn’t want that to change. “Is everything alright?”
Delicate fingers pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh, collecting yourself before looking up at him through the firelight.
“Peter asked me to be his girlfriend,” you confess. Though the library is quiet, your voice is dull, hard to hear. You do not look as joyful as he imagined you would when delivering this news.
“Oh,” Edmund offers. He fumbles for words. You look upset, so he can’t congratulate you. But then again, he’s not sure if he should console you.
You stare at him for a moment, studying him just as intently as he’s studying you. “I said no,” you finally explain.
“Oh,” Edmund says again, for lack of anything better to say. “I’m . . . sorry?” Except that he’s really not. He feels quite relieved, if he’s being honest with himself.
Your brows furrow. He’s said the wrong thing, but he’s not sure where he went wrong.
“I said no,” you repeat. “Because I have feelings for someone else.”
Edmund’s heart, only on the mend for a split second, plummets. “Oh. I see.”
“No you don’t,” you scoff. “Edmund, you’re the one I have feelings for! Have you really not noticed by now?”
The words echo through the still library. They hang between you for a moment. A glorious, albeit confusing, moment where Edmund can do nothing but stare at you, unsure if he’s heard you correctly. Narnia is a magical place, but there’s no way that you could have said the very thing that he would do anything to hear.
“You do?” His voice comes so quietly that when you don’t immediately reply, he worries that maybe he hasn’t spoken at all.
“Yes. And for quite some time, I might add.”
“But – “ Images of the night swirl in his mind. You had danced with Peter for ages, looking so happy. Everyone likes Peter. They always have. And much, much more than they like Edmund. To say that you have feelings for him . . . “Why?”
You blink, taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“I mean . . . Everyone likes Peter. He always gets what he wants.”
Even in the dim glow of the firelight, he can see your gaze soften.
“Oh, Edmund.” You leave your seat, coming closer to him. He rises, meeting you halfway, so that the two of you are standing together in front of the fire. Gently, you take his hand, intwining your fingers. Your hand is warm in his. You squeeze, and on instinct, he squeezes back. “That’s not true.”
“What’s not?”
“People like you, too. I like you.” Your grip tightens on his hand. “And Peter doesn’t always get what he wants. I know something he can’t have.”
“What’s that?”
A smile tugs at your lips when you gaze up at him and say, “He can’t have this.”
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Handle Yourself
Hey! Could you do a a fic about riding Edmund's thigh while he's studying??? Or A nsfw Alphabet for Edmund please? Thank you so much!
warning: smut below the cut
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I let out a huff as the book fell from my hands and onto the bed. My eyes had started to hurt as I strained to read the small text and I felt the need to take a break. Edmund turned from his seat at the desk, a smirk on his face. “Need a break already, love?”
“And what if I do?” I asked, rolling onto my back and stretching my body. “I’ve already been reading for a good fifteen minutes, which is a lot for such a boring book.” He let out a chuckle as he turned back around, already starting to refocus on his own work. I stared at the book sitting next to me in disgust, not wanting to even think about picking it up again. Instead, I turned to look at Edmund who seemed to be deep in thought as he read from his chemistry textbook. I’d always admired his work ethic and how he was able to continue studying for long periods of time, no matter how tedious the subject may be.
His back muscles were tense as he hunched over the desk, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He rested his head in one hand, the other assigned to flip the pages of the textbook. I admired how his biceps flexed slightly underneath his t shirt, making the fabric wrap tightly around his skin. His lips were slightly apart as he read. I wanted to kiss them so badly but I knew he was too focused to do anything. 
But what if I were to convince him otherwise? I wondered what it would take to break the spell of concentration Edmund was under. I imagined running my hands through his dark hair, letting my breath tickle his neck. Would that do the trick? Or would he need more stimulus? I doubted it. I knew just a look could send him into a frenzy if I tried hard enough. I walked over to him, resting my hands on his shoulders. I slowly started to move my hands, working his tense muscles. He let out a soft hum at this. I felt him started to relax. I leaned down so that my mouth was next to his ear. “Why don’t you take a break?” I suggested in a low voice. His took a deep breath before turning to me. 
“You know I need to do well on this exam, (y/n),” he said.
“I know, but you also can’t tire yourself out.” I gave him a soft kiss on his neck, right behind the ear, and I felt him let out a shudder. 
“You’re only saying that because you want something. Isn’t that right, love?” I let out a soft chuckle.
“Perhaps. But I have a feeling you want it as well.” He let out a strangled moan as I planted another kiss, this time near his jawline. I allowed my hand to rest on his thigh as I leaned over his shoulder to look at his textbook. “You can’t possibly be able to read this for such an extended amount of time.” Edmund placed his hand on top of mine, his thumb slowly rubbing circles on my hand. 
“Look, I really need to at least finish this chapter. Why don’t you be a good girl and handle yourself until I can help.” I let out a dissatisfied noise before climbing into his lap. Edmund let out a chuckle as his hands grabbed onto my waist. “And what exactly are you doing?”
“I need your touch,” I whispered, already starting to grind onto his crotch where I could feel something start to grow. 
“(Y/n),” he said in a half-moan. “I need to be able to focus. Could you please move? Just a bit.” I relented so that I was now straddling his right thigh instead of his lap. I let out a soft gasp at the friction as I moved. “That’s a good girl,” Edmund said in a low voice, giving me a soft kiss on my neck.
I started to move my hips, feeling the wetness between my thighs grow as I moved. I let soft moan escape my mouth, making sure they stayed quiet enough that they wouldn’t distract Edmund who continued to read his textbook. One of his hands rested on my waist, offering me some support, while his other hand remained designated to flip the pages. I started to move faster as the pleasure grew. Edmund had started to chew on his lip and although he seemed to be concentrated on the page his was reading, his face had started to turn a light pink. My moans had started to become slightly louder and my voice jumped an octave when he lifted his thigh, adding more pressure. A smirk grew on his face as he did this and I had to bury my face into his neck. 
I savored his scent as I continued to grind on him. My moans had turned to desperate pants as I chased my high. It came to me in a wave, crashing over me and leaving me gasping for air. Edmund let out a low moan, his grip on my waist tightening as my body convulsed with pleasure. After a moment, I started to calm down and sat up right on his thigh. He didn’t wait to kiss me. It was rough and bruising and as he continued to kiss me, he lifted me up. I felt my back hit the soft material of our bed as he started to move his kisses from my lips to my neck. I barely had time to catch my breath.
“Damn you,” he said into my ear, his hands running up and down my body. “Now, after I fuck you, I’m going to have to reread my chapter.” 
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russosafehaven · 1 year
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Can’t Sleep?
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Pairing: Prince Caspian x Reader
Content: Fluff, Soft Caspian, Fem!Reader, Implied Insomniac!Reader
POV: Second
Warnings: None
Just a short drabble cause I can’t sleep but I’m volunteering tomorrow so
~
You heard Caspian before you saw him. He was always so loud and clumsy even when sneaking around. The young prince had fell into you door, opening it and crashing to the ground. It took all your strength not to laugh at the poor boy.
“My lady you’re still awake? Surely that must not be good for you”
He looked at you with concern written all over his face. You felt guilty when Caspian saw you like this. Bags hanging around your eyes, dark from many sleepless nights.
“I couldn’t sleep your highness”
Caspian frowned at you, making his way to you bed and tugging his shirt off. He climbed in under the covers pulling you down against the mattress. His skin was warm and you could feel it through your thin night gown.
“Sleep with me my lady, I’ll hold you until you can rest”
You laughed lightly and you heard him grunt, questioning you. Turning to face him you stroked his hair, soft brunette locks falling through your fingers. He was your best friend but you couldn’t help but want to kiss him.
“It doesn’t work like that. Besides you can not stay my prince. The king is already looking for an excuse to dispel your claim to the throne. You being found in my bed shall have you thrown out of the palace”
He brought his lips to your forehead, kissing gently. Caspian missed you cheek next, threading an arm around you waist.
“It would be worth it my lady. They may see you as no more then a maid but you shall be my queen one day. You will have your own throne and your own gowns. It will be magical”
He smiled and you laid together in silence. In a matter of minutes he was asleep, snoring gently. You giggle to yourself, he reminded you of a small puppy. That night your rested properly for the first time in months. Thank Aslan for the boy who held you in his arms.
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vinnieswife · 1 year
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She’s not you
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Peter Pevensie x fem! reader
words: 1,8 k
warnings: smut!, fingering, oral (fem!receiving)
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Peter was lying on the sofa in his flat, spending the evening watching the new Hobbit trilogy, when he heard the door open and close again.
You came in sighing. It was so typical. You didn't know how you did it, but you always manage to pick the wrong person. After tossing the keys into the container by the front door, you made your way to the living room.
"You're home already?" Peter didn't pretend to be happy about that.
You rolled your eyes and plopped down on the couch next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. "Why do I always hang out with idiots Pete? Why can't everyone be like you?”
Peter laughed humbly. "I don't know." He lifted his arm, and you quickly snuggled into him kicking off your shoes. "What are we watching?"
"The Hobbit."
You nodded and relaxed, grabbed a blanket and covered your body and Peter's "Marie left already?"
Peter covered his legs before sighing. "She didn't come," he admitted.  You looked up from your position, your face full of confusion.
"Peter Pevensie" Peter was sitting across from you. With one arm on the back of the couch and one leg propped up against the couch, you couldn't help but smile. "Oh no, my full name," he said, pretending to be scared.
"I can't believe it! You could have made a move," you scolded him, and he scowled with a laugh "What's so funny?".
"Y/n... I don't want to make a move. "
"Why, she's beautiful!" Peter laughed again, scratching his neck lightly before shrugging. "I don't even like her that much”
In case you didn't know, Peter's heart was pounding in his ears right now. This will be the end of your friendship; God you and Peter have been friends since the crib and he would rather repress his feelings than be nothing. "You'll never get a girlfriend if you go on like this, Pevensie! What's the matter with her?"
It was the drop that filled the glass.
"Nothing, nothing, it's just that she's not you"  Your eyes widened like plates; did he really say that?. Suddenly you realised how closely the two of you were sitting together. You were still leaning on his arm. The warmth of his skin seeped through his torso and touched the exposed skin of your back. Your whole body shuddered under his gaze, your throat so dry you couldn't swallow the lump that had formed in your throat. "Don't lie to me," he regretted saying that.
"I'm not," Peter replied quietly. All confidence left him. He regretted what he said. They both stood in silence for a while, trying to figure out what had happened. "Why didn't you say anything?" you asked.
Peter sighed and clenched his jaw. "I guess I didn't want to ruin our friendship. I would have had to find somewhere else to live, and the atmosphere would have been uncomfortable" He adjusted his seat and looked down. "Like now."
"You're stupid," he laughed. You took a deep breath before continuing. "I've loved you since we were little, Peter."
His head snapped up. Now he was the one who was surprised. "You, what?"  You nodded, confirming that what you just said was true. "You were seeing someone else, I thought you didn't like me."
Peter gulped. The air in the room changed. You could feel the heat under your skin, like someone had turned up the heat. You were still looking at Peter trying to see if you were joking. It was a joke, wasn't it?  You took a deep breath. It didn't lead anywhere. You clearly weren't the type of girl to make the first move, but this was different. It was Peter. And you'd do anything for him.
One of your hands moved over his arm before placing it behind his neck. You approach him hesitantly, but Peter knew you to well, and he just leaned in to meet you lips.
You kissed me a couple of times and it all felt the same. This was wrong. It was full of love and adoration and the sweet taste of it amazed them both. But there was something else. Passion surged and took my breath away. You didn't expect Peter to kiss like this. His hand moved to your hip, pulling you closer as his kiss became more artful.
You climb onto his lap caressing his face. Peter holds you tighter. His fingers pressed against your skin, digging into the fabric of his high-waisted jeans. You practically writhed under his grip, your body pressed against his chest as you kissed, both of your minds filled with dirty thoughts.
After waiting so long, you couldn't wait to get there because the opportunity really did come. "God, y/n". You gave him a breathtaking smile before slowly pulling his shirt off.
Peter grabbed you around the waist again and pulled you closer as he began to kiss your neck. Your hand ran down his chest, tugging at his shirt, running your hand under the fabric, caressing his warm skin, feeling the taut muscles of his abdomen. He kissed your collarbone as you whispered and moaned. His lips were still kissing your skin, moving slowly over your bare breasts.
"You have no idea how much I wanted to do that." He towered over you, supporting her weight in his arms, staring down at you and pulling her to you. You couldn't believe he was really kissing you.
"Are you going to keep your eyes on me or kiss me again?" you bite your lip and smile as you look into his eyes.
He gasped and moved closer. When he pressed his lips against yours again, his hips almost crashed against yours, making you let out a choked moan. Your hands moved over his skin, down the hem of his trousers, he lets you slide your fingers under the fabric and he moaned as you begin to plan him through his trousers.
The air in the room was overwhelming , and it was burning your skin. They were already panting, gasping for kisses, devouring each other with a hunger to kill each other.
You push Peter up and reach into your tight jeans, but he grabs your hand and stops you from undoing the top button. You held your breath, waiting impatiently for Peter to finish what he had started. His hands moved painfully slowly, caressing your spread thighs, thumbs digging into your clothed skin, making you squirm before unbuttoning and unzipping your trousers. "Lift your hips for me, my dear," he murmured, concentrating more on his actions than his words. Now, you lay on the couch beneath him, wearing nothing but a pair of black panties, and you saw his expression darken, biting his lip again.
All right. "Good girl." Peter looked sophisticated and different. Flattering and seductive was a new side of him. After all, the sweet, shy boy had a dark side.
His hand stroked your leg again, you felt the goose bumps on your skin, and when his hand finally reached the edge of his black underwear, you couldn't help but gasp as you shivered. Peter looked up, finally met your gaze and leaned down to kiss you again. His kiss travelled down your body, hitting the sweet spots on your collarbone, your sternum and down your abdomen, leaving a wet trail that made you shiver.
You stood up and reached up to pull Peter closer to you. You kissed and sucked on his neck as you felt your underwear slip completely off your legs. You started touching his trousers again, feeling his erection under the fabric. "don't tease" Peter growled, gently but firmly pushing you back on the couch as you made another mark on his skin.
Your lower belly was tense, waiting to be touched and tended to. When his lips brushed the inside of hers, you moaned and felt a kind of relief and frustration at the same time. So you didn't want him to kiss you.
"Peter," you whisper, closing your eyes and concentrating on the feel of his lips against your skin. Your head dropped back onto the pillow, your hands gripped the edge of the wide couch and you felt his tongue caress your aching clit. You hadn't had sex in a long time. Peter loved teasing you about that.
He began to move slowly, up and down and side to side, deftly turning you into a moaning mess beneath him. And when you felt one of his fingers slide inside you, you couldn't even think anymore. All you were thinking about was him, Peter.
And he pushed you over the edge. A current of pleasure exploded in your lower stomach, and the knots that formed exploded, clinging to Peter's blond hair.  "Fuck" you moaned, "I'm about to-" Peter laughed, wiped his mouth with his palm and said, "Your room or mine?" he asked with a grin. Now you're skin to skin, completely exposed.
"I don't care, just fuck me."
He took you to the next room. Lying quickly on the bed, he gently laid you down and jumped on top of you. Mocking your gentleness, he looked down at your face and saw your face pucker with pleasure and a soft moan escaping your lips.
"Peter, if you don't start fucking me now, I'll do it myself" With a thrust he filled you and paused to give you time to adjust to his size.  When he was sure he wasn't going to hurt you, he pulled back almost all the way before thrusting his hips into you.
It was simply heaven. It had to be. His movements quickened as he realized his hands were taking advantage of your hips, pressing your body into the mattress and plunging you into oblivion.
"Look, you're taking me so well," he said, panting heavily. His eyes were on your face, his blue eyes and messy hair made him stunning.
You felt your lower abdomen tighten again and you let Peter know you were close again, but so did he. His thrust became unsteady and he held his weight by clinging to the headboard. Both jumped off the cliff at almost the same time.
Peter sank to the mattress, rested his head on the corner of your neck and took a deep breath. He was still clinging to the headboard and didn't want to crush you with his weight, but you didn't mind.... Panting, you gently stroked his neck.
You had no words to say. We both knew how we felt. Rising slowly, Peter got up and went to the closet. He pulled a shirt and black boxer shorts out of his wardrobe and handed you the shirt as you sat down.
Peter grabbed you again, pulled you tight against his chest and pulled the sheets over the two of you. "y/n?" he finally said.
"Huh?"
"Thank God your date went wrong”
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witchthewriter · 2 years
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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  
a/n: There’s no NSFW because I didn’t feel like writing one xx
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ  
🌿ESFJ 🍁Slytherin 📜Lawful Good   🔮Gemini Sun, Virgo Moon, Leo Rising  
SFW🌿
⭑ It was as if Aslan had planned it all along 
⭑ Someone to humble the High King; an outsider, an outcast. Someone that would ultimately merge parts of Narnia, and come together without fuss. 
⭑ You bickered and snapped at each other from the day you met until your wedding (and it still happens from time to time) 
⭑ Edmund loved you - and initially thought you would be the perfect match for him. But you were too alike, and the eldest brother had to marry first.
⭑ But after some time, he realised that Aslan was right. And you were better off as friends (not that he let anyone know his feelings). 
⭑ Your wedding was HUGE, much bigger than you could have ever imagined. All of Narnia stopped for a whole day and night to celebrate the union 
⭑ You both wore white, but his was a warmer cream and yours, a cooler ivory
⭑ Edmund was his best man and either Lucy or your own sister was your maid of honour. 
⭑ Aslan officiated (obviously. And Lucy wanted him to wear a special hat)
⭑ And Susan was the official ‘witness’ (signing of the documents part) 
⭑ Peter always sleeps on the right side of the bed 
⭑ He’s a morning person. And gets grumpier as the day goes on. But perks up whenever he sees you 
⭑ His petnames for you are, ‘Darling, Sweetheart, My Love, My Heart.’ 
⭑ Your petnames for him are, ‘Honey,’ ‘My Liege’ (said usually with a dramatic curtsy and head bow). But most times you just call him, ‘Peter,’ ‘Blondie’ or ‘Sword Boy.’
⭑ Training with you:
        “No, see you’re not holding your sword high enough-” Peter moved to correct your form. 
 “What? Yes I am?” You rebutted, your eyebrows knitting together. 
      “Will you just let me help?” He retorted, giving you a stern look. 
⭑ The others love it. They always watch on when you’re at it
    “Peter should really learn to keep his mouth closed,” Lucy sighed as she and Susan looked on from the window.
⭑ You do feel insecure at times, but Peter is always there, either physically or emotionally hoisting you back on your feet. 
 “We’re together for a reason. We belong together.” 
⭑ Peter can be very romantic
⭑ He never forgets a special occasion/event/milestone. 
⭑ You’re usually the one that does 
⭑ And he’s more sensitive than you are 
⭑ Peter was very very jealous when Caspian came along
    “I don’t know what Susan sees in him anyway...”
“Well he is handsome-”
    Peter turned to you with raised eyebrows, “Oh is he now?” 
⭑ Lucy loves spending time with you. You’re like another sister, and she loves it!
⭑ Susan absolutely adores you, especially now that she can outnumber Peter 
⭑ Peter knows your favourite colour, flower, stone, piece of jewelry, day of the week, memory etc. 
⭑ He suprises you with how well he’s remembered everything. You on the other hand ... don’t have the greatest memory. But you do try!
⭑ You’re always worried for the other’s safety 
⭑ And you actually get into a lot more fights than he does
⭑ Relationship Tropes: 
  ✧ Rivals to Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers/Married 
  ✧ Mature/Responsible x Snarky/Fierce
  ✧ Sun x Moon
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If you ever forget that you love me (Caspian x reader)
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To read my other works, check my MASTERLIST !
Paring: Prince Caspian x fem!reader
Universe: The Chronicles of Narnia
Word Count: 861
Requested: Yes, by @i-amtitania
Warnings: I think none? If I forgot about anything feel free to write to me. Your well-being is important to me!
Summary: Where Caspian reads letters from her.
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Caspian woke up feeling warm sun rays on his skin and hearing the birds singing. It took him a few moments to realise that he was no longer on the sea, he was home, and his betrothed was just a few rooms down the hall. A smile came onto his face, and a warm feeling blossomed in his chest at the thought that he would see you today without the need to dream about it anymore. He sat up, stretching his muscles, when his eyes fell on the pile of paper on his nightstand. He reached for it, noticing a ribbon wrapped around it and his name written by you on top of it. He touched it carefully and leaned against the headboard. He took the first one and unfolded it, holding it like the most sacred thing in the whole world. His smile grew wider when he noticed the date on the bottom of the sheet - the day his journey started. He read attentively every word you wrote, and everyone went directly to his heart. He loved how you described your days and even wrote about small gossip around the court. He was grateful for the possibility of catching up with everything that way. He was sure that you made some situations more light and fun than they would be. What shocked him the most was how easily he could notice your emotions through those letters. Even if you didn’t name it, he could say that in better days, you wrote more jokingly, with more anecdotes and jumping between different topics. On bad days they were more thoughtful and shorter. On these days, you clearly express your worries and how you miss him. It made him want to run to you and hug you tightly, but the knowledge that Trumpkin, Doctor Cornelius and Glenstorm were there for you and took care of you. 
In one of the latest letters, written just after the wedding of one of your friends, he found a part that made him blush, and he needed to read it twice to believe that it was there.
My love, I can’t stop thinking about you and our wedding. I want it to be perfect for us - for this celebration to be cherished by us similarly. But what kept me awake tonight was the thought about everything after it. About how it will be to wake up next to you, to be able to keep you close at night. How our life will look in the cosiness of our bedroom because I must say I really hope that we will choose to have a shared bedchamber. I dreamed about your lips on mine, your hands on my body, being able to learn your body and being the reason you will achieve pleasure…
Caspian made himself read the last letter before he rushed to get dressed. He still felt heat on his cheeks. His mind wholly was consummated by you. He couldn’t stop thinking about everything waiting for both of you after you’d exchanged your vows. He looked through the window and smiled, seeing you walking through the yard. He quickly walked out of his room and started searching for you. Luck was on his side when he spotted you in the corridor he just ran in. He screamed your name at what you smiled, and he started running to you. In mere seconds Caspian took you in his arms and immediately kissed you. You gasped in surprise but quickly relaxed in his arms. Your hand slowly reached his nape, and you melted against him. After a moment, they departed breathless, and Caspian rested his forehead against yours. He watched your flashed face and smiled, seeing your closed eyes. 
“Caspian..” She whispered. “Not that I am complaining, but what was that for?” You looked up at him, resting your palm on his chest. 
“I just love you.” He peaked her lips and smiled. “I think that lilies will be perfect for our wedding. The book you were reading indeed is so boring - I tried to read it last year, but it didn’t work out. I will take you to the Lone Islands and wherever you will want to go, and I will gladly show you the most beautiful places there, even if none of it can compare to your beauty. And I also want us to have one bedchamber because I think that when I finally will have a taste of you - I won’t be able to stay away even for a few hours.” 
“You read my letters.” You moved your hand to gently cup his cheek. Caspian kissed your wrist, squeezing your waist gently. 
“Each of them.” She smiled and brought him into another kiss. Caspian pulled you closer to him, making her laugh into his lips. This one kiss wasn’t a heated make-out - it was a clumsy kiss intermittently by giggles and declarations of love. And then, when the Duchess came into the corridor and cleared her throat, both blushed, trying to stop their giggles. She only shook her head with a smile, mumbling about young love, happy for people that she treated like her own children. 
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Author’s note: Thank you so much for reading! If it’s not too much trouble, I would love to hear your thoughts about it. Any feedback is greatly appreciated and motivates me to work.
I am sorry about every grammar mistake and misspelling. English is not my first language.
Klaudia  💜
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Taglists are always open! If you want to be added fill this up or send me an ask!
Caspian taglist: @elennox03 @live-love-loki @effielumiere @blackst0nes7077 @mystic-writings  @radcloudenthusiast @siriuslyslyslytherin @90steaology @mandos-crest @kaqua @aleksanderwh0r3 @anne-kollay @my-love-i-am-a-mess @crowssixof @x-heartrender-x @siriusbarnesslut @sassybadqueen  @mrs-brekker15  @florqlness @multifandomrandomgirl @ctrl-z33 @aleksanderblack @wecallhimbrowneyess @nyx2021 @poisxnedmind @rominaszh @sophiavrodrigues @frutilooplupin @uwiuwi @yannajhhh
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cyberball · 8 months
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cair paraval
caspian x reader / no pronouns used / not rq
warnings: a couple swears, physical touch (as in not 18+ but still), mention of the word 'dress' but you can interpret that as any type of dress really
summary: you decide to reminisce on a select few memories of the beach at cair paraval in your room, one morning.
genre: yes it is fluffy but there's some slow burn/yearning thing going on, allusion to a modern!au in narnia, although u can assume it’s the same
notes: cyberball comeback! *crickets* anyway this is my highest word count thus far. ben barnes is actually fatal cuz now I'm obsessed with a character from my CHILDHOOD who I completely forgot even existed. alas, here we are, because caspian is a very very close second to Leo valdez, and I'm head over heels for that man. all this is to say, this will probably not be the last caspian fic and who knows, maybe I'll figure sth out for peter n ed as well!!! anyway enjoy i hope u like it
11:03 | 2896 words
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11:45 AM
The spring breeze brushes against your face, and your eyes close in appreciation. From your balcony, the beach of Cair Paraval looks stunning; clear blue waters and a high tide to match. You let your thoughts linger on all the nights you’ve spent on said beach with a certain king of Narnia. You almost get up to try to find him, but you sit back down, realizing he must be busy. Your memories will have to sustain you for now.
4:23 AM – 1 month ago
Caspian’s hand came up to brush his hair out of his face for what seemed like the hundredth time that night – the sea breeze was relentless. You silently laughed at his efforts, as he leaned back into you, having given up on trying to tame his hair. His tall frame had somehow managed to sit snugly in between your legs, Caspian’s head resting on your chest. You were leaning against an enormous oak tree, the leaves swaying in tandem with the wind.
“Get up, you big goof,” you said, rolling your nightshirt’s sleeves up, determined to help him with his hair. He looked back at you for just a second before obeying your command. You loved his hair either way but you could tell it was annoying him right about now.
“What, you don’t like the unruly look my hair has taken on?” He asked, sitting up properly. You shook your head in amusement and looked away under his glance, pretending to look around for the clip you always kept on you, in case a predicament like this arose.
You gathered a little of his hair and tied it in place with the clip, letting a few pieces in the front fall out. The half-up-half-down look was his and your favorite.
He rested his head back onto your shoulder, looking ahead, the two of you still sitting. You had a ritual wherein you took one night each week to watch the sunrise. Now, even as the sun slowly woke up, the Narnian night sky glittered with tens of stars, and you wished you could look into his eyes. The black always reflected the light perfectly.
You two had been dating for about 2 weeks now. Caspian was your best friend and the person you trusted the most. Back when all you could think of on nights like these was your imagination of what it would feel like to have his lips against yours, looking into his eyes was a gesture far too intimate for two friends to share.
But now that it was a reality, you moved him off your shoulder and moved forward, so now you were facing him. On instinct, he picked you up by your thighs and placed you on his lap. Giggling, you took his stubble-covered face in your hands. After staring into your eyes for a length of time most people would find uncomfortable, he looked up at the sky. And there it was; the sky condensed into his eyes. He looked back up at you, and you couldn’t help but kiss him. You wondered how you ever lived without knowing the taste of his lips.
5:09 PM – 3 months ago
The sun filtered through your hair as you managed to push through it. It was setting, and the horizon looked particularly capturing today; pink and orange clouds shielding its light. Speaking of the sun, unbeknownst to you, yours had come up behind the spot you had claimed on the sand. Placing a kiss on your head – and consequently making butterflies fly around in your stomach – Caspian took the place next to you, as he often did.
More often, he’d only made rare appearances in your solitude, as the mantle of being king had taken its toll on his free time. You had found yourself reminiscing on the time when every other free second you both had, you would spend with each other. You would train together as well, and while that hadn’t necessarily stopped, he had significantly less time to do so. So you missed it, and you missed the close contact, where you could pass off the hitched breaths and stuttering glances as something other than what they were.
Caspian was your best friend. Nothing more, although you found yourself coveting the same. You don’t quite remember when it changed; when the way you looked at him turned from friendly appreciation to lingering on his smile. You felt that maybe he felt the same when he’d make you laugh and then drink in your reaction; when you showed him a new dress and his gaze lingered on you for far more time than was needed to look at the dress; when, a few days ago, you were playing with his hair, as you often did, and he unabashedly stared at your lips; and even now, when he kissed your head and instinctually rested his hand on yours. His thumb caressed your palm, and you had to physically restrain yourself from melting onto the beach.
At least then you could be washed away with the sea. You could feel his gaze on you. “What, idiot?” You asked him, not turning to look at him, a playful smile playing on your lips. “That’s no way to address your king,” he replied smoothly with a smirk of his own. You wanted to wipe it right off his stupid, pretty face.
As happy as you were with his presence next to you, you didn’t forget how your getaways to the beach were much frequent just you now instead of you both. “Sorry, Your Majesty,” you muttered sarcastically. You winced as his face fell at your tone, immediately regretting your words, knowing how he literally had no time for anything other than his duties. You couldn’t be mad at him for that. He beat you to the apology, “I am sorry. I know I have seen you less and less these past few weeks, and it’s not an excuse, merely a reason, but my work as king has taken up most if not all my time. Regardless, I could have made time for you. Aslan knows you’re much more important to me than anything else,” he spoke the last words under his breath, but you caught them.
You both had talked about this before – how much you meant to each other – but every time he brought it up, your heart beat just a little bit faster. “Cas, don’t be sorry. I know you’re busy and it’s selfish of me to be mad at you for that. I’m sorry,” you replied, looking away. “You’re not being selfish. You’re the least selfish person I know. You’ve done nothing wrong here,” he said softly, pushing your hair behind your ears. A hue of red dusted your cheeks at the gesture and you smiled up at him, “It’s okay, Cas,” you assured him and noticed his eyes crinkling at the nickname, “Just promise to meet me whenever you can,” you said, playing with his fingers. “Yes, I know, I will use all my free time on you. You don’t have to tell me twice,” he says, a glint in his eyes. You laughed amusedly, “You’re a good king, you know,” and he searched your eyes for any sign of a lie. He didn’t find it, even behind your teasing tone. “Just because I dedicated my free time to you?” he questioned and you pretended to think, “Hmm… yes.” Laughing
, you rested your head on his shoulder. You were happy to have him, even if your affections could only be as intimate as best friends.
2:58 AM – 2 months ago
You had just made a particularly hilarious joke, and Caspian had been laughing about it for what seemed like ages. “My god, calm down,��� you managed to say through your own laughter, and he silently brought his forehead down to your shoulder, his own shoulders shaking from laughter.
After finally calming down, he said, “Never do that again,” a smile still brilliant on his face, despite the dim moonlight filtering through the clouds. “What, never make you laugh again?” you grinned, sucking your teeth, “sounds like a challenge to me. I’m too funny,” you joked, running your hand through your hair. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Caspian roll his eyes at you, and you wordlessly shoved him for it.
“That cloud looks like your hair in the morning,” you pointed out, gesturing to a cloud by the sea line. Caspian looked at you with an unamused face, “Ha-ha. Very funny,” he replied deadpan, but a grin eventually broke out on his face.
A long, comfortable silence stretched out between the two of you. You carefully rested your head on his shoulder and tried to take this for what it was: two friends enjoying each other’s company, and not letting your thoughts wander to a hope where maybe, someday, you could be more than that. Because it could never be. Caspian did a great job of reminding you of the fact when he piped up, “Today was sort of terrible,” and in response, you looked up at him through your lashes, beckoning him to continue. “The court is back at it with the marriage proposals and potential alliances,” he explained, and your heart dropped.
Oh. “Any of the potential matches interest you?” you questioned, silently hoping the answer was no. Regardless, you braced yourself for the impact, but he replied, very softly, might one add, “No,” and ran a hand through his hair. “Really?” you asked in an unamused tone, “none of them?” you were a tad bit eager to know his true feelings. So he pointed it out, “Desperate, are we? Why do you want to see me married off so quickly?” he asked, a smirk playing on his annoyingly pretty face. There was a sort of desperation in his eyes that you didn’t quite catch, however.
“Of course not, Your Highness,” you teased, “Curse me for wanting to see my king happy,” and rolled your eyes. “And anyway, it’s quite the opposite,” you muttered under your breath, sure that he wouldn’t hear it, but he did.
Fuck. He understood what you meant by it as well; he always did, and now he looked at you with something newfound in his eyes. Shit.
Silence. Why wasn’t he saying anything?
“That is the last thing that would make me happy,” he finally spoke, and you silently sent up a prayer to whichever god let him ignore whatever you had said.
“And what would?” you asked, a teasing tone in your voice, but you both knew you genuinely wanted to know. Were you a possibility?
He didn’t reply. You chuckled softly and slightly shoved him, “What? I asked you something,” you said, still giggling. Your laughter had brought a smile to his face and you wanted to evaporate.
He took one of your hands and started absentmindedly playing with your fingers, as he often did. “I just… it’s a little funny to me how many times I’ve asked you that same question and you’ve not responded,” he confessed, black eyes staring you down, and then moving away when you hesitated in responding. “We tell each other everything,” a pause, “Right?” he asked, and hundreds of unsaid feelings poured into the small gap between you two, which he was slowly but surely closing. All the while his hands were still on yours, and you wondered if this was it. The day you finally get to call him yours, or the day you part ways.
“Caspian…” was all you managed, a little choked. Had his face always been so close to yours? You swore you could feel the beat of his eyelashes on your face, which was no doubt painted deep red right about now. It didn’t matter, because so was his.
You never knew eyes could speak like this – albeit, Caspian’s had always been able to, but never to this degree – begging, desperation, and hope, all in just two pupils. You literally were choked now; words had left you. You always told him, in matters of romance, you would never be able to make the first move. He had always laughed at that, the irony of you being such a bold and fearless person, yet being afraid of showing vulnerability like this. Although he himself could never chide you about that; both of you knew his stubbornness, especially in affairs of the heart.
He was not a daft man. A little oblivious, sure, but he knew the way you looked at him. You hadn’t tried to hide it either; in some masochistic way, even though you had your doubts about his feelings, you still wore yours on your face. You regretted it sometimes, when if he ended up listening to his court one day, then you would feel like a fool for putting your heart out on the line.
But so had he. Later on, you would realize that you were much more oblivious than him. He had half the decency to never completely assume that you were interested in him romantically, but he knew you. And you knew him.
So it made sense now to you. His lingering glances, especially those on your lips; the forehead kisses, which he had started a long time ago before you thought of him this way – however, they had grown much more frequent and much less chaste; and, oh. The words he said to you just a couple of days ago, lounging in his bed, your head in his lap, when you had joked about him being in love with you, “I’m not going to deny it.” You knew when he was joking. This was not such an instance, even though, immediately after, he tried to play it off as such. You knew it. Why hadn’t you said something?
Your name fell from his lips now, once more, a silent plea.
His lips ghosted over yours once more. You closed your eyes briefly, as you did when in a predicament, and exhaled hard.
Caspian sent up a prayer to whichever god would take it and made to connect your lips. You met him halfway.
You remember the first kiss like the back of your hand. You just about whimpered when his taste reached your tongue; the taste of the chocolate you both had snuck just a few minutes earlier was fresh on his lips. His rather large hands steadied you by your waist, and you still felt like crumbling by his touch.
A few seconds later, you pulled away reluctantly, out of breath. His eyes slowly fluttered open and his face was redder than you had ever seen it. You grinned and pecked his lips once more, and he felt your smile on him. It wasn’t a feeling he thought he’d ever experience.
Giddy, he mirrored your smile and kissed you harder than the last time.
“I knew you had a thing for me,” you said, right after he pulled away, breathless and smiling. “I’m not going to deny it,” he gloated, and you rested your forehead on his shoulder, laughing.
You were going to deal with the court some other day. It was just you and him right now.
11:56 AM – Present time
“Enjoying the weather, my love?” Caspian’s voice sounds out as his arms wrap around your torso. You slightly crane your head to look at him, shamelessly staring at his frame; simple white button-up, black pants. A rather handsome look on him.
“Your pick-up lines have always been terrible,” you remark, turning your head back around, a smirk on your face.
“And yet you were just checking me out,” he shoots back, resting his chin on the top of your head. You roll your eyes in response. “Checkmate?” he teases.
“Whatever. You can hardly blame me when you look this good,” you respond smoothly, turning around to face him while raising a hand to play with the ends of his hair.
“Have you seen yourself?” he says comfortably. His hands are resting easy on your hips and his gaze is on you, focused like you hung the stars in the sky. He always looks at you like this.
You shake your head, silently laughing, and crane your head to look out at the waters. It’s true that no one loves the sea quite like Caspian does, but that’s the very reason you appreciate it. His eyes light up when he talks of his adventures and voyages. Interestingly enough, there have only been two instances when the joie de vivre shines in his eyes; once when he thinks of the sea, and twice when he thinks of you. You’ve noticed it. The thought gets you giddy each time.
There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you. He places a kiss on your head and leans down to kiss your lips. Every time he does, it feels like the first time. Your eyes flutter close, and you notice something more in the way his lips move against yours. A message.
And then you realize.
Three words.
He pulls away, exhaling softly. A pause.
“I love you,” he says, your name on his lips like it always belonged there.
You waste no time. “I love you too, Caspian,” and he grins.
You mean it. And Aslan knows he means it too.
tagging: @noorie101 @padfootagain (one of my fav cas writers <3) — if u wanna be tagged please send in an ask!
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mykinkyyandere · 1 year
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The Hopeless Door
AO3
Pairings: Yandere/Dark! Peter Pevensie X f!Reader
Summary: Peter is being hard on you for your own good. Or is it for his own good?
Warnings: Yandere, dark, kidnapped reader, forced relationship/marriage, manipulation, non-con implies, non-con touching, controlling, yelling, mild brute force, emotional abuse, mature characters, sorry if i missed sth
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You squirmed under Peter's grip. Exploring Narnia would have been a wonderful experience. Making new extraordinary friends in this beautiful world and maybe living in there forever. Thanks to your new good friends, you would find a way to survive, after all, there were greater difficulties in your own world. Going to school, having a job, bills and more difficult tasks that the future imposes on you. It would be easier to make a good life for yourself in Narnia. But not like this, not with a young king who was extremelly obsessed with you. The king of Narnia, no, High King of Narnia? Oh, how could you have guessed? How could you have known that he would trick you into kidnapping and forcibly marrying you? He wasn't a cruel person, but his desire to have you was creepy. He manipulated you all the time. He made you believe he was the only person who could protect you. He told you if you don't marry him, marry the king, your life will be very difficult, you will never survive in Narnia. Yes, even if you had very good friends. Silly girl, you couldn't trust them. Even that showed him how naive you were. Then he convinced you when you wanted to go back to your world. As if he would let you go otherwise.
"I used to live there myself once. It was a very frustrating and difficult world, even for me. Poor people who constantly despise you, life constantly wants more from you, losing your home, losing your loved ones... What are you going to do when you get back there? Don't you see how wonderful I can make your life here? I will offer you a rich life, you will always be happy. The things you worry about in the world will never come to your mind again, so much so that you will even forget their existence. Here's an opportunity for you. Escape from that world and live here with me. All you have to do is be mine. I love you."
He liked everyone kneel on his feet, and he wanted you to get down on your knees. To look at him from the floor with your big, sweet eyes... These were new feelings for him. He didn't have time for girls, already had two girls to look after. But you weren't his sibling, you gave him new experiences, new sense of protecting. He didn't even know he could feel that way and he wanted more.
"It hurts!" He grasped your arm so tightly that he wasn't even aware of it. He was angry, everyone you walked past bowed their heads in fear. "I can't believe you were trying to run away from me!" Nevertheless he loosened his grip. He didn't want to hurt you. He was sure that one day you would look for a way back, but still he couldn't help feeling betrayed. Didn't he give you everything you wanted? Hasn't he been very nice to you? Never once did he let someone hurt you.
"I wasn't! I was just..." The guards opened the big doors and waited for Peter, who was pulling you with big steps, to enter your shared bedroom. He kind of pushed you into your shared bed. He used to give you time to get used to marriage and let you sleep in a separate bed, but then he wanted you next to him. He wanted your warmth. He made it clear that he was now your husband and you had to get used to sleeping with him. He promised he wouldn't force you to do anything you didn't want to.
"You just what?" He couldn't believe he just forced you to stay in bed, holding your arm and pushing you. He didn't want to hurt you, he didn't want to use brute force on you, and he never thought of doing it, but he liked the dominance he had over you. It reminded him that he has you. You were his. No matter how much he respected your boundaries and wouldn't touch you unless you wanted him to, you were his. He would have you every day and every night if he wanted to. You couldn't fight him, you didn't have the strength to stop him. It would have been so easy to take off your clothes, pin you to the bed and spread your legs... You were so defenseless against him, completely at his mercy. Sometimes he forgot this fact because of his love for you, but every time you caused trouble, you reminded him. He didn't know if you were overconfident in your strength or if you were underestimating him, but evidences showed both. He wanted you to come to him of your own free will and see that he wasn't a bad person. He didn't want you to fear or hate him, he wanted you to love him. To have you completely, that was his goal. More important than having your body was having your heart, but he was running out of patience.
"I just wanted to see if the door was still there." Your voice trembled, the tears started to fall. He hated seeing you like this. He always hated seeing you cry. From the first moment he talked to you, he didn't or couldn't hide how protective and "listen to me" type of person he was. He was very caring and loving, but when he said no, it was a no. He knew the best of everything and expected you to accept his leadership. There were times when he told you about his family. You felt bad that the responsibility of being a father was placed on his shoulders at a young age. He was taking on a lot of responsibility, but that didn't justify him forcing you to live under his wings.
"Then what? You open it, and there's no Narnia anymore, there's no us anymore!" He shouted and ran his fingers through his hair. He was so afraid of losing you that he thought it was necessary to show his anger. That's why he kept talking until you sobbed.
"Stop!" You tried to get up but he was faster. He got on top of you and held your chin, pinning your wrists above your head. "Where do you think you're going?"
You tried to push him off, but you couldn't. He was so strong or you were so weak, or just both. All you could do was cry trapped under his body. "The door is gone and you already knew that! Then why are you making me suffer so much? Why did you want to make everything a living hell for me when you knew I couldn't leave, that I was trapped here forever?" You controlled your sobs as much as possible and screamed. "You destroyed the door so I couldn't leave!"
"I thought you just went to check if the door was still there. Why are you so upset about me destroying the door? Is it because I've ruined your secret escape plans for good?" Peter was aggressive, he didn't plan this. When you cried, he wanted to hold you in his arms and caress your head and comfort you. Now instead he was on top of you, touching you inappropriately and cornering you by talking mercilessly. He got caught up in the fact that he needed a little brute force to get the things he wanted to happen.
"You are mine. Do you understand? I own you, my love. I am your husband and I am your King. You are in my world and you are mine. I own these people and this crown. I have my siblings and they know I am in charge. Wherever I look, I see things that are mine. And you, when I look at you, I see my most precious treasure that I have. When I look at you, I see a warm bed, a promising heir, a bright future. I see a home. My home."
He turned your chin and kissed you on the neck. "I am truly sorry for making you cry. Sometimes love is hard. Whether you get angry, yell, punish, you do it for the sake of the one you love. Difficult, but necessary."
He kissed your neck one more time and let go of your chin. You were still sobbing. He let go of your wrists as well and held your cheeks. "I love you. I am so much in love with you that you could never imagine. I am so sorry, but everything I did and said was for your good."
He got up off you and gently took you in his arms. You didn't look at him or didn't resist. Oh, you were afraid of him, and that was something he never wanted. It would have taken a very long time to wait for you to come anyway. It made him sad to realise that he had no choice but to force you to be his.
He put you under the covers and kissed you on the forehead. "I know crying always makes you sleepy. Now get some rest, and then I'll take you for a little ride with my horse. You need some fresh air and I also know you like it when I show you around." He smiled and wiped away your tears with his thumb.
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Imagine a secret forest rendezvous with King Caspian…
As most of the company had started laying their blankets for the night, Caspian took your hand and your attention.
“I want to show you something.” He said gently. Holding a little tighter, you stepped away from the group and followed the man who held your heart into the forest. After a few twists and turns, you were adamant that you were lost but Caspian was confident that he knew the way. Sundown had just begun casting a warm glow through the treetops.
“Does this little rendezvous have an end or are we planning to run through the course of the forest?” You laughed.
Caspian chuckled. “A few more steps, I promise.” He replied and it was the truth.
He stopped at a very small clearing where a patch of the most soft-looking grass had been sitting.
You looked at the way he beamed at you but couldn’t understand it’s meaning.
“I’m a little confused.”
Caspian’s smile faltered, his eyes wide. “You don’t know what this is?” He asked and received a small head shake in return. Taking your shoulders, he turned you to face the small patch of land and moved closer to your ear as he spoke in a whisper.
“This is an ancient magical root that grows in rare forests of Narnia. They become patches of land and it is said that their magical properties are for lovers.” He explained.
“And what makes it so special?”
“Well, it is said that when two lovers step onto the grass, all time stops for them to do as their minds wander.”
You felt a shiver run down your spine as you leaned into him a little. “And where does your mind wander?”
“Would you like me to show you?” He teased, breath now tickling your skin.
Taking in a deep breath to clear your mind, you turned around and pulled him close to capture his lips.
“Show me.” You whispered.
Laughing, Caspian led you towards the magical grass and you both disappeared from sight and sound of the normal world.
~ More imagines here ~
A/n: Happy Valentines x
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lightwing-s · 4 months
Text
𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍
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pairing: peter pevensie x female! reader
requested: yes. summary: war times are complicated and feelings tent to get overwhelming. when jealousy hits peter, he doesn't know what to do, you don't know what to make of it, and you two end up... "confessing".
word count: 1,3k warnings: light swearing, battle themes, anxiousness
a/n: it was supposed to be a short blurb but i got excited.
reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡
⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests: open⌟
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Hordes of narnians worked frantically on preparing weapons, armors and other supplies for the incoming battle against the telmarines. The sounds of metal hitting metal flooding the hollowed tunnels of Aslam’s How, giving Peter the eerie and anxious feeling he was growing unused to while in England, the one he always felt before a fight.
He had been looking for you, wanting to talk about battle plans, contingencies, numbers. Or just talk about anything at all. He needed to clear his mind, especially after what had just happened with Jadis and Caspian, after the failed battle at the telmarine’s castle and the growing tensions of a war. 
Truth is, he didn’t know if he could do it. He didn’t think he could win it this time, not in the state their army was, shrunken and weakened. Not without Aslam.
He needed to find you, talk to you. He needed you to tell him it would all be alright and you’d win this battle no matter what, like his mother did to soothe him down. Like you once used to back in your first time in Narnia.
“Have you seen Lady Yn?” He interrupted a faun’s work to question about your whereabouts, not managing to find you anywhere.
“I believe I saw her with Prince Caspian, your majesty.” the faun replied after standing from a bow.
With Caspian. Yet again.
You’d seemed to spend an awful amount of time with him lately, something Peter hadn’t imagined would piss him off so greatly as it did. Every time he’d come looking for you, or every time he spotted you around, somehow, Caspian would be by your side. Sometimes sharing laughs, others with your arms interlaced. It drove him furious.
He didn’t understand why you had to be around him so much. He wasn’t hurt or in need of help, he wasn’t your friend like he was. What was it you two talked about so much? And why was it that it drove him so insane to just think about?
Asking for instructions on where he’d last seen the two of you, Peter lets the faun return to his work, not managing to hide his unsatisfied look before heading out in your direction. Torch in hand, he followed through the empty and darkened tunnels until he found you and the prince sitting by the Stone Table, deep in conversation, so much so that you didn’t notice his presence at all.
He stood there, watching you two chat. Caspian’s arms moved everywhere in front of him while he explained something that had your eyes glued on him, an amused smile creeping to show up on your face.
His blood boiled. His face reddened, and it’s muscles curved into a frown. Spinning on his heels, he returned to where he came from. It wasn’t until you heard his heavy footsteps walking back into the tunnels that you noticed him, the torch fire reflecting on the walls and disappearing along with him.
Excusing yourself, you screamed his name and rushed after him, not understanding what was going on at all. The quick glimpse you had of his face showed you a displeased frown, leaving you worried something might have happened while you and Caspian discussed battle plans.
“Peter, wait!” you screamed after him, almost begging him to stop and talk to you. “What happened?”
“What happened?” he suddenly stopped and turned on his heel to face you. “Nothing happened, Yn.”
His anger ridden voice only confused you more, your head bobbing to the side to stare at him in deep thought. “Then why are you upset?”
“I’m not upset,” he argued. “It’s just that we’re preparing for a battle and you’re just hanging out with Caspian and…”
“That’s what this is about then?” you cut him mid sentence. “Me spending time with Caspian?”
“It’s not about you spending time with Caspian.” Peter rolled his eyes.
“Then what is it?”
“It's not… I-it’s…” he failed to come up with an explanation, opening and closing his mouth several times. “I’m just worried for my family’s and your safety, thinking of countless plans on how to keep everyone safe while you two are just chatting away.”
“Outrageous!” you exclaimed. “Peter, if me and Caspian are spending any time together is with this fucking battle in mind because you’re so damn stuck in your own head that you won’t listen to anybody!”
“I fucking always listen to you.!” he stated in return, moving forward towards you but you didn’t even flinch..
“Yes, but what about Caspian? Your own brother? They all care about this too, they all want to bring the Narnians to safety, not risk their lives again.”
“You know it wasn’t my fault.” he defended himself, clearly getting what you were hinting on.
“I know!” it was your turn to approach him. “I know you never intended to lose them like that, I was there with you remember, I saw it in your eyes.”
You could've sworn you felt a single tear escaping from your eye, but you weren’t sure and either way, you weren’t too attentive to it to care. “But you’re too stuck in your own head, too worried if you can or not do it to listen to people that actually believe and want to help you. And what was it with the White Witch?! What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t.” he let out quietly, you barely managed to hear. The space between you a mere inconvenience now, as you both neared each other as words spilled out of your mouths.
“And if you think that I don’t care about your safety too, you’re so wrong because I worry about it day and night. I can barely sleep thinking about your safety and if we’re going to make it out alive, because I know how impulsive and stubborn you can be, Peter, and I can’t even fathom the thought of losing you to Miraz a-and…”
Cupping your face in his larger hands, Peter ended the last bit of space between you by pulling you forward into a kiss.
At first, you didn’t know how to react, how to respond to it, simply staying put and letting his lips touch yours, too surprised by an action you’d never expected from Peter. Your Peter, the stubborn and annoying Peter that made you lose your mind constantly with crazy battle plans and insufferable jokes, now making you lose it with his lips in yours.
His warm breath hitting your cheeks and the soft caress of his thumb on your skin melting you into his embrace, returning the kiss with careful and passionate movements. Your hands tugged on his shirt bringing him, if possible, even closer.
Growing needier, hotter, more desperate, you continue your kiss without breaking for air. His lips dancing above yours, your breathing getting shorter and your chest speeding away. You felt the tip of his tongue sliding inside your mouth, touching yours in a sensation you’d never once felt before, but that you now felt desperately hungry for.
And just when you were about to return the action, stumbling steps and rolling stones broke you apart from each other.
“I-I…” Caspian tried to muster, sliding his back against the painted walls of the tunnels, feet rushing away from you two. “... Just need, erm, to be somewhere.”
Peter had pulled you closer, hiding you in his chest like a protector of your virtue, and you laid your face in it, smelling his strong and woody scent emanating from his skin. His hand rested carefully on your waist now, as he watched Caspian disappear into the shadows over his own shoulder.
“He really admires you.” you called back his attention, wrapping your arms around his torso in a comfortable embrace. “You should listen to his ideas.”
“I know,” he simply replied. “I will.”
And like that you stood for a few more minutes. Wrapped around each other, lullying to the sound of each other’s breaths. A brief moment of quiet, peace and solitude in the chaos that was battle prep.
A moment for you two, that Peter prayed with all his heart wouldn’t be the last.
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iliumheightnights · 1 year
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Betrothed | Peter Pevensie x Male Reader
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Fandom: Narnia Pairing: Peter Pevensie x Male!Reader Summary: Arranged Marriages were to be expected for the high kings and queens. However, what WASN’T expected was who Peter would Marry.
~~~
Peter loved being king.
That was no secret. Peter loved being in charge and having power. It made him feel important and like he was worth something. His brother would just call him a narcissist. But then again, Peter WAS a good king. The past years he had kept Narnia in an age of prosperity with his siblings. 
Life was good.
But then there started to be issues. Whispers here and there. An occasional skirmish along the border. Small things. But small things build up over time. Before Peter or the other Pevensies knew it, they were neighboring a kingdom that could threaten the peace they had created.
“What can we do?” Edmund asked. The siblings and their advisors gathered around the table. They did this anytime something like this happened. “Well…we could unite our kingdoms.” Susan was the one who brought it up. “I’ve learned the king has an heir close to your age Peter.”
That made all their eyes move to Peter who looked shocked. “Me? Why does it have to be me?” It was a valid question. There were three others and after all, it was Susan who even brought it up. “Because Peter, you’re the high king. I doubt they’d settle for much less.” Peter sighed. He didn’t like it but it made sense.
“Can’t we use diplomacy?” Lucy asked.
“We’ve tried. Any attempts at it have failed thanks to the skirmishes around the border. This is pretty much our last attempt.” Mrs.Beaver spoke up. Peter stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. “Then so be it. Send the letter.” With that, he left the room. He didn’t like it, but if it kept his people and kingdom safe then what else could he do?
.
The letter was quickly sent out after that. They had no time to waste if they wanted to keep the peace. It wasn’t long before a response returned:
“‘Dear Kings and Queens of Narnia,
Our Empire would be honored to accept such a proposal as yours. With the marriage of High King Peter and my heir, our lands and people shall finally be united. A party is already prepared to venture forth to Cair Paravel to introduce the two in three days time.
Hopefully this will only be the start of a prosperous future.
~Imperial Majesty.”
Peter grimaced as he read the letter.
The whole thing felt cold. First off, the whole letter gave him a bad vibe that this leader was a pompous ass. Second, they didn’t even refer to their child as their child, only their heir. That was never a good sign. Third…three days. He had three days before he was to meet the person he was going to marry.
How exciting.
HE might have been sarcastic when he thought that, but the rest of the castle wasn’t. Everyone else seemed to genuinely be excited as they prepared Cair Paravel for the entourage’s arrival. Lucy was happily decorating while Susan and Edmund spoke over the diplomatic aspect of things. Mrs.Beaver was extremely happy about it. She loved weddings. Mr.Beaver couldn’t help but tease Peter a bit. “Marriage. Get ready for a pain in the-” He stopped when he saw the look Mrs.Beaver gave him.
Everyone was happy or excited. Everyone but Peter.
The rest of the days passed rather quickly and soon it was the night before their arrival. Peter could hardly sleep. His mind was racing with different things. What did his future spouse look like? What did they act like? Were they nice and kind? Beautiful? Ugly? Cruel? He had no idea. Yet here he was…about to be married to them.
That was the risk of being King. If this was the only way to do his duty to protect his people, so be it. He might not have liked it, but he’d live with it. Who knows, perhaps they’d be friends at the very least.
The day finally arrived. Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy were dressed even more nicely than usual for this occasion. The kings and queens stood in the courtyard with their own advisors and servants to greet the new arrivals.
It wasn’t long before a beautifully ornate carriage pulled in. One of the drivers stepped off to open the door. “This is it.” Lucy whispered. She was a bit more excited than the others. Peter gulped, he felt his throat close up a bit. His nerves resurfacing.
When the door of the carriage opened Peter’s eyes widened. He wasn’t not expecting that at all. He was thinking he was to marry one of their daughters. But when he saw the young man step out and smile at him everything changed. “Now announcing his Imperial Majesty, Prince M/n L/n of the L/n Empire.”
Peter could feel the looks his siblings were giving him but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the other man. He was both beautiful and handsome at the same time. His smile filled him with warmth. It was strange, he had never felt this way with any other guy.
M/n stepped forward a bit and bowed. “Your graces. It is an honor and pleasure to meet you all, especially you High King Peter. I hope with our union our people will be united.” Peter was at a loss for words but eventually tried to find some.
“Wait. YOU are the one he’s marrying?” He didn’t get a chance before Edmund spoke up. Maybe it broke decorum a bit, but the shock was enough to burst their regal stances. M/n let a laugh fall from his lips. “Yes. I’m going to take it, you were expecting something else?” Edmund nodded his head. “Well yeah. We thought-”
“It’s nothing. Welcome Prince M/n. Allow me to show you around.” Peter said before Edmund could do any damage or cause any embarrassment. His siblings once again gave him a look of confusion but he ignored them as he held out his hand to the prince. M/n gave him a gentle smile as he took Peter’s hand and followed his lead through the palace.
The other three watched them leave into the castle dumbfounded. “Well…this is…different.” Edmund said. “I hear you.” Susan said. Lucy only smiled before turning to her other two siblings. “I like him. He seems nice.” Without waiting for their response she returned to the inside of the castle.
The next couple days seemed to just flow easily. Everyone was preparing for the ceremony while Peter and M/n spent time together getting to know one another. M/n knew that the marriage was one of convenience and duty rather than one of love and told Peter he understood. Peter on the other hand was beginning to think otherwise.
Before he met M/n, Peter also believed this was his duty. He still knew it was but something had changed. He and M/n had spoken often since his arrival and spoke of their likes and interests. Peter found himself unable to keep his eyes off M/n more and more often. The way his mouth crinkled when he smiled, the way his eyes sparkled with his laugh. It made Peter happy.
He realized what was happening. Peter was getting a crush on the prince. Well…that was rather unexpected.
The wedding came and went rather quickly. The whole ceremony was beautiful and ornate. A mix of Peter’s kingdom and M/n’s Empire mixed together. Everyone was happy for the king and also for what the marriage meant. More years of peace for their kingdoms. It was a joyous occasion.
Soon the festivities came to an end and it was time for Peter and M/n to leave. The two said their goodbyes to people before escaping the ballroom and to their wing of the palace. Peter brought M/n to his room but to the disappointment of what others thought, they didn’t do anything. Instead, the two of them leaned against the balcony ledge looking over the ocean.
“So…we’re husbands.” M/n said looking at Peter with a laugh.
“Husbands.” Peter said quietly without looking away from the ocean. He sucked in a breath and gathered his courage. He then turned to the other man and told him what he was thinking. “M/n. I understand we’ve only just met but…these past few days I have enjoyed your company. A lot more than I thought I would have. When they sent the proposal, I expected some awful predicament that I couldn’t escape…but this feels different.” He could feel his heartbeat quicken as he tried to speak the next few words. “What I’m trying to say is. I believe I’m starting to care for you. If you would allow me, I’d like to spend more time with you and perhaps see where this goes?”
M/n’s smile widened and he gently squeezed Peter’s hand. “Peter, I’d love that. I must admit, I also feel the same. I was frightened when my parents sent me. I wasn’t sure what to expect. But you have been nothing but kind and chivalrous to me ever since my arrival. Plus…you’re not too bad to look at.” That made them both laugh. “I would love to see where this can go. We have lots of time, we ARE husbands after all.”
Peter smirked as M/n leaned against him. “Husbands.” The two stayed cuddled together as they watched the sunset over the sea. They wouldn’t rush into anything. But perhaps this marriage of convenience would end up being a marriage of love after all.
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softguarnere · 4 months
Text
Memories Feel Like Weapons
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Edmund Pevensie x gn!reader
Summary: “People can be different. They can change. You’ve changed.” Gently, you use your pointer finger to hook his chin and turn his face towards you, making him look you in the eye. “You’re a good king, Edmund, and an even better man. A good brother. A good boyfriend. Everyone has forgiven you for what you did as a child.” A/N: What's up, y'all?! It's been freezing these past few days and I hate it! 🥴 So this is for all you other lovelies who are currently being plagued by SAD 🫶🏽 Also, in case it's not clear in the fic, for the purposes of the story, we're just gonna assume that reader's parents also sent them off to the country during the war to stay with the professor, that they met the Pevensie's there, and went to Narnia with them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! ❤️ Warnings: Edmund has SAD but it's Narnia so it's never actually called that, the author is (once again) overusing commas
As interesting and as magical a place as Narnia is, you’re willing to admit that diplomatic negotiations are something that usually bore you to tears.
You try to take an interest, you really do, for Edmund’s sake. Political wheeling and dealing is his bread and butter. You’re not particularly adept at it yourself. Edmund has tried to explain the finer points to you many times, but it’s not something that you can wrap your head around. But maybe that’s just because you get too distracted thinking about how good looking your tutor is. Sometimes you raise a question or a particular point that you know he’ll jump to answer just to see how passionately he talks about his favorite subject. As far as you know, he hasn’t caught on yet.
Today proves to be different, though.
A chill in the air greets you when you awake. A crackling sound from the corner tells you that a servant has crept in at some point and started a fire in the hearth to stave off the cold. Blinking to adjust your eyes to the light, you’re greeted by the type of cold, white sunlight that announces a wintery morning and the season’s signature magical touch that often appears overnight – snow.
You leap out of bed, gasping when your feet kiss the cold floor. Hurrying to put on slippers, you wrap yourself in a fluffy robe and hurry to the door.
Edmund hates the winter. He hates the snow even more. No one can blame him for that. But you’re the only person he’s confessed this to.
Sure, his siblings might suspect as much. Those first few years in Narnia, no one dared suggest that they play in the snow whenever it arrived, for fear of what it might imply, and for fear of inadvertently upsetting the youngest Pevensie brother. After a few more years, he would find excuses to be tucked away in his library on snowy days, and no one would breathe a word of the fun they had without him while he was around. A delicate subject and a fine dance around it, to say the least.
It was only last winter that Edmund confided in you, and only because you had recently become a couple. He said the winter was hard enough on its own, but the snow brought back too many bad memories, ushered in nightmares so vivid that he sometimes woke up questioning what was real and what wasn’t.
This is going to be a rough day for him, to say the least. Which puts a damper on the mood, since ambassadors from a nearby kingdom are arriving to negotiate trade – something he was so looking forward to.
“Edmund?” Your voice seems too loud for the quiet library, and the echo makes you flinch slightly at the loudness of your own voice, at the desperate quality it holds.
Stepping further inside the room, you listen, and tune into the crackling of the fireplace along the far wall. You follow it until you can see the chairs in front of it, and in one of them, Edmund, slumped over a large tome, asleep.
He’ll have a crick in his neck from sleeping that way, you think. If you hadn’t known why he was here, finding him in his favorite place like this would be sweet. It still tugs on your heartstrings, yes, but in a different, heavier way.
“Edmund?” You gently shake his shoulder before stepping back.
The Just King startles awake, his book slipping out of his lap. His eyes are wide and wild as they flick across the room, struggling to make sense of his surroundings. Finally, they land on you and soften. “(Y/N)?”
“Good morning, sleepy head,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light, casual. “If you say that your neck doesn't hurt after sleeping like that, then you’re a liar.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The painful popping noises that echo from his spine say otherwise, but you let it go. Slowly, he rises, stretches, and then takes a step closer to you and plants a kiss on your forehead. He sighs through his nose. “Today is the day.”
You slip your hand into his, intwine your fingers. “How are you feeling?”
Edmund shrugs. His relationship with his siblings has improved leaps and bounds in all the years that they’ve spent in Narnia, but sometimes he still hesitates to show certain emotions around them, to express himself the way he should. Sometimes it’s easier when it’s just the two of you in a space like this where he’s comfortable.
“I’ll manage.”
“If you’re not feeling up to it – “
He squeezes your hand. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a day that I have to get through.”
“Spring will come again,” you assure him, using the mantra that you often whispered to comfort him through last year’s winter season.
“And we will greet it with open arms and grateful hearts,” he finishes. He attempts a smile, but it looks more strained than usual. “Don’t worry, darling. Everything will be fine.”
. . .
It is almost immediately not fine.
The ambassadors arrive in all their splendor. Fine fabrics and shimmering jewels assure that no one can take their eyes off them as they enter the hall and approach the five thrones. They bow to Peter in the center, to Susan and Lucy on his left, then to you and Edmund on his right. Servants carry golden trunks behind them. They have come to these diplomatic negotiations bearing gifts in the most literal sense.
Though you will all retire to a separate chamber for the actual negotiations, the gift giving is a public affair for the whole court to witness. And because it’s so formal, it’s rather slow.
Strong weapons forged of foreign metals are gifted, followed by clothes of their country’s latest fashions, and small samplings of food for each of you, a different dish for you each to try based on what the ambassadors have heard about you.
Thank goodness you’re a good actress, because the ambassadors seem to think that you really do seem excited to try the food in the bejeweled silver container that they gift to you. In reality, you’re trying your hardest not to grimace at the unfamiliar looking treats inside of it, and trying hard not to become preoccupied wondering if the taste will be as . . . unique as the smell that emits from them.
“And finally, for King Edmund,” one of the ambassadors says with a bow before presenting a silver container to Edmund with a flourish. “I have heard a rumor that you are quite fond of these.”
Thankful for a distraction from the gift in your own hands, you turn your attention to Edmund. Sitting beside him, you are in full view of the show that his siblings are not. You can see the rosy color, the powdered sugar. The Just King’s smile immediately falters. Strong hands clamp the container shut before anyone else has the chance to see what’s inside – Turkish Delight.
For a moment there is nothing but silence, the labored sound of Edmund drawing a breath. It goes on just long enough that his siblings glance at him. Only then does Edmund seem capable of forcing himself to smile, to nod, to thank the ambassador for such a thoughtful gift. If his siblings sense that something might be wrong, they don’t even know the half of it.
Because what has just happened, really? Is this a slight on behalf of the other country’s rulers? Or do they genuinely have no clue the implications of their actions?
As the exchanging of the gifts comes to a close, Edmund coughs into his fist, clears his throat. Does it again. He thumps the flat of his palm against his chest.
Peter turns to him. “Are you alright?”
“I think I just require a bit of fresh air, if you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Edmund replies. He says it far too quickly, and he uses the excuse to dismiss himself from the hall. The silver container that holds the Turkish Delight has been abandoned, left behind on his throne.
It takes everything in you not to race after him, to follow him, to make sure that he’s okay. Instead, you’re stuck helplessly glancing between the doorway that he’s disappeared through and the ambassadors who won’t seem to shut up.
Finally, the niceties end. The other king and queens of Narnia begin to migrate into a separate chamber with the ambassadors to begin the negotiations.
Quickly, quietly, you catch Lucy by the sleeve of her dress and lean in close to her ear. “I’ve got to go find Edmund,” you whisper. “I’m worried about him.”
Lucy’s eyes go wide, but she holds her composure under the watchful eyes of the court and the visiting representatives. “I’ll cover for you,” she whispers back.
As one of the five Narnian monarchs, you don’t technically need anyone’s permission to leave – except maybe Peter’s, since he’s the High King. Still, you’re the only one who’s not a Pevensie sibling, which can sometimes be a little isolating. Knowing that Lucy has your back boosts your confidence as you slip away, heading for the nearest place that you think Edmund might have disappeared to.
A quick search reveals that he’s not in the library. Or the armory, or any of his usual haunts. As a last resort, you duck into his bedroom, and it’s there that you find him, standing before the hearth, staring into the flames. His hand holds the place on his side where the White Witch stabbed him on the battlefield, though the gesture seems absentminded.
“Ed?” You make your voice soft so as not to startle him.
He looks up, eyes wide, surprised anyway – and hurt.
You don’t waste time asking if he’s okay. Instead, you cross the room to meet him in front of the fire. “Oh, Edmund.”
He doesn’t bother lying and saying that he’s fine. That’s how you know it’s bad. When Edmund Pevensie goes quiet, retreats within himself, it means that he’s truly wounded. This is something deep inside of him that aches, that rots.
Not knowing what to do, you take a seat on the rug in front of the hearth. You’re careful not to touch him, trying to offer him the space if he needs it. But he follows your lead and takes a seat, too, which seems like a good sign.
For a while, neither of you speaks. You just sit near each other, staring into the fire. Edmund looks very numb when he finally says, “I didn’t mean to leave like that. I just . . . panicked.”
“No one blames you.”
“Seeing that stupid Turkish Delight – “ He shudders. “I can’t figure out if it was a poor choice given with good intentions, or if it was a slight on my honor, a reminder of what I did.” He frowns. “I suppose to some people I’ll never be Edmund the Just – I’ll only ever be just Edmund, The Traitor.”
“No,” you protest. Space be damned; you grab his hand in yours and squeeze it, like that gesture can also grab his attention, infuse the meaning of what you’re about to say to him so that he cannot ignore it. “Edmund, you’ve changed. You’re not a traitor.”
“Anymore.”
“People forget that I was there, too,” you remind him. “I tried to follow you to Jadis’ castle.”
“That was different. You were trying to stop me from betraying my family.” His brow furrows at the memory. “So I shoved you into a snowbank and ran off without you. And then you went back to Beaver’s the help the others. (Y/N) the Loyal,” he employs the epithet that Aslan gave you, but you can’t be sure why. Because of what you did then? Because you’re here with him now?
“People can be different. They can change. You’ve changed.” Gently, you use your pointer finger to hook his chin and turn his face towards you, making him look you in the eye. “You’re a good king, Edmund, and an even better man. A good brother. A good boyfriend. Everyone has forgiven you for what you did as a child.”
Edmund shakes his head. “But they haven’t forgotten. And I can’t, either, if I’m being honest.” He doesn’t meet your eye when he confesses, “It haunts me, the memories. Every winter.”
“No. But you can do something else.” You pause to make sure that you have his full attention when you make your suggestion. “You can forgive yourself.”
Edmund blinks. As smart as he is, it seems like the thought has never occurred to him before now.
“It doesn’t have to be now,” you assure him. “It’s not an instantaneous thing. Just . . . something to work on. A project. An ongoing one.”
Silence falls between you again as he turns back to the fire. It takes a few moments before he nods, the light shining off his dark hair and his crown.
“I’ll work on it,” he says, resolved. He turns back to you, and when he speaks again, his voice is so unsure, so timid, that you have the sudden urge to hold onto him with one arm and use your other to draw your sword and fend off anything or anyone in the world who might come near and cause him harm. “Can you help me do it?”
You nod. “Of course.”
“Thank you,” he clears his throat, shakes his head. “I’m going to need more than my own forgiveness for being late to these negotiations.” He makes no move to get up. His gaze wanders across the room, as if seeing it for the first time, before landing on the window and studying the portal to the frozen, white world beyond it.
“You don’t have to go if you don’t feel up to it.” Then, trying to lighten the mood, you bump your shoulder against his. “I’m sure Susan and Lucy ganging up on the ambassadors will give them a run for their money.”
Edmund chuckles, settles back on the rug. “Good, because I honestly don’t think I can look into the eye of a person who tried to give me Turkish Delight without hitting him over the head with my sword.”
Even though you’re in a relationship, it’s maybe the most vulnerable that Edmund has ever been with you. He places his head in your lap and stares into the hearth as you card your hands through his dark locks.
“Spring is coming soon,” he mutters, his voice heavy with the sleep that’s trying to catch up with him. “Maybe then I can start over . . . Would be nice to not have to worry about freaking out over a bad gift and embarrassing myself in front of the whole court.”
“Spring will come again,” you remind him, voice soft in case he’s already dropped off to sleep. “And we will greet it with open arms and grateful hearts.” Then, for good measure, you add a new line to aid you through your latest challenge. “And it will allow us to start over.”
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chloe-skywalker · 1 year
Text
Obvious - Peter Pevensie
Peter x Fem!reader
Warnings: none
Word count: 807
Summary: Peter meets a girl in Narnia that might be part of his prophecy?
Authors Note: First ever Peter Pevensie Imagine and first ever Narnia imagine
Masterlist
Narnia Masterlist
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“The White Witch is coming. You all must work on your skills.” Aslan told the young Kings and Queens.
“Will you teach us?” Lucy asked walking closer to Aslan as they followed him to their tent.
“We all will young one. I do have someone in mind to teach you all different things.” Aslan answered Lucy with a heart felt chuckle.
“Who?” Susan asked once they stopped walking, wondering who the loin had in mind.
Aslan turned to face the children before answering the older girl. “She is skilled in everything you all will need to know, no matter the situation at hand.”
“A girl?” Edmund asked pulling a face and for that Peter smacked him upside the head.
“We would love to learn from her.” Peter smiled apologetically to Aslan on behalf of his brother.
“Agreed.” Lucy and Susan said at the same time also smiling.
“Yeah, whatever.” Edmund mumbled rubbing the back of his head.
Aslan gave a nod. “Then you’ll all start tomorrow. As for now, get some rest. You’ll all need it.”
^ ^ ^
“I see you all are ready.” Aslan said as he approached the field he had them escorted to.
“We are.” Susan nodded, she was ready to learn.
“Good, Your teacher should be here soon.” Aslan stated before looking around to see her figure coming through the mountains. “An there she is.”
A girl around Peter and Susan’s age came down the hill on a beautiful black stallion. As she got closer her features became more apparent and Peter, well Susan had to nudge him to close his mouth.
“Hey, I hope you all weren’t waiting to long.” Y/n smiled sheepishly as she dismounted her horse.
“Nonsense, Y/n.” Aslan smiled at the young warrior. He had known her, her entire life. Seeing the girl always brought a smile to his face. He knew she was the perfect one for this. “Y/n this is Lucy, Edmund, Susan, and Peter.”
Y/n smiled giving a gentle wave. “Nice to meet you all.”
“Children this is Y/n. She’ll be the one teaching you all.” Aslan explained as he also introduced them.
“Its nice to meet you.” Susan spoke up since Peter couldn’t stop staring. She reached out and the to shake hands.
“Likewise your majesty.” Y/n smiled.
“Please just call us by our names.” Lucy smiled at the older girl, enjoying the energy she let off.
“Yes, please.” Susan nodded in agreement with Lucy’s statement.
“As you wish.” Y/n nodded agreeing to what they had asked. “Shall we get started?”
With that Y/n started showing them different things. Such as knife throwing, basic field first aid, archery, and now sword fighting.
“You should introduce yourself personally.” Susan suggested to Peter as she walked over to stand next to him. The two watched Y/n teach Lucy ways for her to use a sword at her weight and height disadvantage.
“Should I?” Peter genuinely asked.
Susan nodded smiling at him, she had never seen Peter so into a girl before. “You like her. I can tell. Hell, it’s obvious Peter.”
“That obvious?” Peter grimaced smiling shyly.
“Yes. But it seems she is oblivious to it.” Susan nodded towards the Y/h/c-ed girl a few feet in front of them. “Go for it.”
Once the two siblings were done talking they noticed it was Peter’s turn now that Lucy was done. How convenient.
“Hey, Peter right?” Y/n asked smiling up at the blonde as he approached her for his turn.
“Yeah. Y/n right?” Peter smiled nodding at her. He noticed that he had done a lot of smiling around her today.
“Yeah.” Y/n let out a light laugh at the boy's words. How they mimicked her own. Y/n looked up at Peter with a smile. “You ready Peter?”
“Absolutely.” He nodded pulling out his sword.
“They’d be cute together.” Lucy giggled nudging Susan whose face matched Lucy’s.
“They would be.” Susan agreed
Aslan chuckled deeply standing next to the young women.
“What's so funny?” Lucy asked Aslan smiling mischievously at the loin.
Alsan smiled over at the two and they could tell he knew a lot more than he let on. “There are many prophecies for the daughters of Eve and the sons of Adam.”
Susan squinted her eyes before asking. “Are you saying that who we end up with is also prophesized?”
Aslan nodded with a hum. “Part’s of them, yes.”
“So are Y/n and Peter?” Lucy wondered out loud smiling over towards Peter and Y/n’s direction.
“Yes young one, they are. But let’s keep that between us for now.” He gave Lucy and Susan a knowing look. The girls couldn’t help but smile at eachother. They wouldn’t tell their brother but they couldn’t wait to watch their love story play out.
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f3maled0g · 11 months
Text
“What’s eating you?”
Edmund Pevensie x Fem!Reader
Warnings - We live in a society, allusions to sex, innuendos.
Summary - Gurl I dunno.
A/N: Don’t repost, re-blogs are absolutely fine
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“Pevensie!”
There you appeared with a moonshine induced stagger. One could have sworn Edmund Pevensie’s eyes shone. He quickly assumed his original demeanour. Cold and unbothered, although now with a certain lightness to his shoulders. All the while, you made your boisterous trek to his spot, sporting a lopsided grin.
“Hello,” you sung, albeit badly.
He released an audible humph.
“Geez, something crawl up your trousers, old boy?”
“Okay.” Edmund raised a brow. Then, another.
You paused, maintaining deadly serious eye contact as if about to divulge the most sordid goss.
“What’s eating you?”
“Excuse me?”
“The phrase,” you jabbed at an explanation. “What’s bothering you?”
“In what world are you from where they use that euphemism?”
“Give a girl a break, concern is the most honourable gift I’ve ever bestowed upon anyone,” you returned a salute.
He scanned your hopeful countenance with a critical eye and took a generous swig of brown from a suddenly procured flask in his hand. Ed sighs, his thoughts muffled by the wild clamour of teenagers coupled with the cantankerous ambience that parties generally possessed without fail.
“So,” you inhaled, teetering on the edge of a conversation doomed for death. “Wanna get out of here?”
His lips twitched with a growing smile at the sight of your determined look in his periphery, more than prepared to bolt at the door. Not that you ever noticed the subtle glances, after all, stoicism was his magnum opus while yours ignorant bliss.
“Suit yourself,” you concluded with a shrug and waltzed out the exit and Edmund felt obligated to follow, legs mechanically willing themselves in your direction. Someone had to look out for you.
Just when he thought he’d lost you, Edmund found you leaning against the stout wood of an old oak. You bathed in the staple warmth of summer air, skin set aglow by the moonlight streaming through cracks of the foliage.
“You know, it’s considered rude to stare.” You whispered with closed eyes, conscious of his burning scrutiny.
He lingered at a comfortable distance from you, enraptured by your surreal tranquillity. Your eyes fluttered open, the reflection of the moon evident in your dilated pupils. He drew closer, your presence willing him to motion, like a magnet, until he was close enough to hear the rhythmic pattern of your breath.
The proximity was agonising, enticingly so. Your tangibility rushed him into a confused frenzy. He wanted to touch you. Worship the deity that you were. Longing nagged at him. How was it you were so close yet out of reach? It was aggravating. You were aggravating and this puzzle could only be solved in one way.
You looked at him through your lashes, a haziness dancing across your face. “What’s eating you, Pevensie?”
What passed in the moment was a blur.
Edmund stood before you, obscuring the view of the moon. You tilted your head, the bare slope of your neck appeared so inviting. It took everything to restrain himself. To maintain his resolve. But if you would just ask nicely, sweetly. Edmund’s heart would yield.
Your stare was a siren call to him. Beckoning and beckoning. It seemed his heart was not the only appendage at your beck and call. Edmund’s hands had a mind of their own and commanded forward. You bristled, the grip snaking around your waist shook your guard.
“Is this o-”
“Yes,” you gasped, much like a fish out of water.
Edmund chuckled, “You didn’t even let me finish, love.”
“In the biblical sense, I just might if you got on with it already.”
Seriously, you were rushing this? He pictured this a little differently, wanting to take his time with the pretty thing before him and explore the contours of your soul. After all, not only was Edmund Pevensie a fighter but a lover too.
Impatient hands latched onto his shirt collar, willing him forward and flush against you. The contact stirred something deep within your lower belly, something reserved only for him. He kissed you hard, then pulled away, noses nudging each other’s. You smiled, baring your teeth with closed eyes.
“Y/N,” Edmund breathed, “Look at me.”
“Hmm?”
“I like you, alright?”
“Alright. I like you too.”
Resolve broken.
You laughed heartily. “So, why don’t you just get it over with, buddy boy?”
“Buddy boy, huh?” He pulled away, extending a hand to pull you from the mighty oak. “You really are something.”
“Thanks a bunch, Eds,” you scoffed, jutting your tongue out. “Not only am I aroused, but aroused and disappointed.”
You turned to leave but Edmund stopped you.
“Listen, it’s not that. I just-”
“Are you a virgin?” you deadpanned, “Is that what this is?”
Edmund pouted, wounded. You raised two brows.
Ignoring the blow to his ego, he pressed on, “I just want to take my time with you, is all.”
Oh. You warmed from the explanation.
“So, that’s what’s been bothering you.”
You approached again and this time planted a kiss on his cheek, his face unusually ruddy from the affection.
“Well, at least let me take you home?” he suggested.
“I do have a curfew.”
“So, about the sex…” you began, looping an arm around his.
Edmund rolled his eyes, “Name the date.”
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