#Narnia peter imagine

[lightwing-s]

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑

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⌟

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.

[luunaz]

Kissing with Pevensie (Peter and Edmund) + Caspian

pairing: Peter Pevensie x reader, Edmund Pevensie x reader, Caspian x reader

type: fluff 🌸

Masterlist

Peter

At first, his kisses are very careful and caring. Despite the fact that Peter is very passionate, he primarily thinks about your comfort. As soon as he feels that you reciprocate, he will definitely deepen the kiss and show how much he is in love with you. His kisses always cloud your mind, they make you dizzy. Peter prefers to kiss you when you're alone so that no one bothers you.

Edmund

His kisses are very domineering. He likes to leave quick kisses on your lips. Watching your embarrassed reaction, he always grins. Edmund always holds you very tightly and hugs you to him. He looks down at you and then kisses you. He also likes naughty kisses, when he can run his tongue over your lips or leave a quick peck on your nose after a passionate kiss. Edmund likes to kiss you in front of everyone, showing that he is the only one here who can make you feel butterflies in your stomach.

Caspian

His kisses are very gentle and sometimes uncertain. There is love and care in his every movement. Your eyes meet, he puts his arm around your waist and slowly approaches you for a kiss. You feel his smile on your lips, and you smile involuntarily. Caspian likes to hold your hands and kiss you on the forehead. It's like a way for him to show you that he's ready to protect you from everything.

[tetragonia]

Hello! I don't know if you have open requests and this is not my language but I wanted to request Peter Pevensie reacting to deleting his kisses as a joke. Thank you anyway!

hii Anon! thanks for requesting this prompt, it's so cute (also since Peter was my childhood crush, this isn't a hard one to write)! I'm going to write this as a fic, I hope you don't mind<3

Peter Pevensie x F!Reader headcanons

warning: none, pure fluff

You were on a picnic on the beach, feeling the summer wind hit your face

You laughed as the wind suddenly flew Peter’s hat. You got up and reached it, extending your hand to give it back to him

“Thanks, dear.” Peter pulled you down, kissed your cheek

Your eyes sparkled with mischief, wiping your cheek where he kissed you. “Your lips feel warm, it’s a hot day already.”

Peter raised his eyebrows, “Oh, you're quite the mischief-maker, aren't you?"

He looked at you, trying to figure things out. You were unable to hold your laughter as he grabbed your arm

But you were quick: you got up and ran away from him, bare feet touching the warm and soft sand

Peter ran after you, “Oh, you’re going to pay for that, Ma’am.”

Your laugh rang as he grabbed your waist, spun you to fully facing him. He ran his fingers through your disheveled hair, loosen braids hitting the wind.

“Now, why did you wipe my kiss?”

“Because it was warm.”

“That doesn't even make sense," Peter countered your argument. You laughed in his embrace

"You’re infuriating,” you giggled.

Peter rolled his eyes, before smiling and kissing you on the lips.

[saltwaterburns]

giggling kicking my feet twirling my hair while being 3 hours into peter pevensie edits

[sweetpandorabox]

Peter Pevensie as a Boyfriend ⚔️🛡️

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙

Warnings ⚠️: Slight mentioned of sexual themes and some spicy stuff.

Dating this incredibly attractive, loyal protector and brave older Pevensie sibling could include:

👑👱🏻‍♂️🏰

He's really protective of you and often expresses how much he loves and cares for you, so much so that if anyone even tries to come close to hurting you by words or physically he won't hesitate to eliminate them.

He's quite a gentleman and believes that he has to take care of all the ladies in his life including his Mother, Susan, Lucy, and especially you. He would offer his arm when the two of you are waking together, he would bow to you when he greets you and he never lets you carry anything, Peter has that timeless chivalry personality about him.

Sword fighting lessons with him only for it to turn into an extremally spicy make-out session after, because of the build-up of sexual tension over time and the fact that he always wins with him pinning you down on the floor without even trying.

You are the only one that can calm him down after he blows up after fighting with his sibling or is stressing out about ruling Narnia.

He would see you falling asleep nearby the entrance of the castle waiting for him to return from a patrol ride around Narnia which he finds to be the most precious thing, then he'll pick you up in his arm and carry you to sleep in his bedroom and not your own one.

He calls you cute nicknames like Darling, Pretty, Lovely, or Princess.

Likes when you call him Pete, Darling, Sugar, or Your Highness (He likes when you call him that because it sounds so seductive coming from your mouth).

His love language is probably Acts of Services, sure he loves a good PDA once in a while and all the things you both did together as a date, but he's a natural server and protector. He shows his love by protecting you, making sure you're fed well and healthy, or the little things like helping you take off your gown, brushing your hair for you, or helping bathe you.

Ask for your input before making a big decision because he trusts you and relies on you for support especially if he has to debate it with his siblings first.

Horseback riding around the beach in Cair Paravel to watch the sunset, but the both of you would ride and share one horse with you sitting and wrapping your arm around his torso, while he leads the horse.

Whenever he sees you doing something and looks about busy he comes up behind you, and turns you to face him by spinning you around by the waist before caressing your cheek softly and then pulling you into a sweet yet passionate kiss.

He requests you specifically when he's hurt/injured after a battle or some tough fight training days to take care of him, like cleaning his wounds, being there to kiss him, holding his hand to lessen the pain, or performing some oral sex on him if he's in the mood (😏) instead of choosing his other loyal servants.

The two of you are always smiling around each other before it erupts into a fit of laughter out of nowhere ending up with you and Pete on the floor dying.

Lucy and Edmund would catch the both of you kissing or showing PDA somewhere then they'd look at each other and get grossed out saying "Eww" or "Get a room you two, there's a billion inside this castle", then you and Pete would somehow share the same mindset and start teasing them by kissing even more, or exaggerating the PDA until both Lucy and Edmund can't take anymore and run off, giving you and Pete a good laugh after.

When it comes to sex he's very gentle with you making sure to put you first before himself, despite how much you drive him crazy with lust because of how attractive you are to him, so it's mostly slow, passionate sex but he does love giving you a good hickey mark all over your neck and chest area or when you give him a bit of ear play to get him turned on.

He's actually quite funny intentionally most of the time and can be quite sassy as well which you find hilarious especially when he's annoyed, hungry, or frustrated.

Let's you wear and steal his white long-sleeve tunic for bed instead of proper pajamas because it looks adorable on you and fits slightly larger.

He falls for your cute puppy eyes every time, even if he says no multiple times or refuses your request at this moment it always works and he always says "Oh come on don't do this to me Darling" but then you'd plead and he would sigh before smiling and boom he says yes.

He never goes to sleep without solving a fight and he wouldn't let you sleep either until the both of you have a makeup kiss.

He doesn't seem to be the jealous type on the inside because he hides it so well from you, but when he sees someone staring at you for more than 5 seconds he rolls his eyes and kisses you out of nowhere.

Taglist:

@igncrantbliss @milivanili99 @thatdummy-girl @nighttimemoonlover

[wrenwreads]

a glass... or two!

sick of seeing his little brother and their best-friend just simply ogle at each other, peter decides to take matters into his own hands.

request for @edmundpevensielover : EDMUND PEVENSIE X READER

LOTS OF FLUFF AND ED AND READER HIDE THEIR FEELINGS FOR EACH OTHER MAYBE SHE (READER) GETS TRICKED BY PETER (AT THE PEVENSIES' CHRISTMAS PARTY) TO DRINK AND SHE (READER) GETS DRUNK AND MAKES OUT WITH EDMUND AND THEY PRETEND IT DIDN'T HAPPEN AND SUSAN CATCHES THEM MAKING OUT AGAIN.

pairing/s: edmund pevensie x fem!reader

warning/s: mentions of alcohol and reader being drunk a bit tipsy

genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers (or is it?)

word count: 1.4k

a/n: this has been in my requests for god knows how long, i do apologise for only getting to it now. i did change it up a bit from what anon originally requested, hope that's okay!

How do you make two obviously in love individuals realise their feelings for each other when the said two individuals are also too oblivious for their own good?

That was the same question Peter had going on in his head.

It has been too long.

Way too long since his little brother — Edmund, admitted he has feelings for Y/N — someone he has grown close to over the years, who also happens to be Edmund’s best friend since forever. Also including the fact that same Y/N did the exact same thing Edmund did, only a week later.

Some would say that Peter is in a huff. Jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed as he walks down the halls of the castle towards the library. A bit too niche of a topic for him to be in a huff about — but he's only human after all, and only wants happiness for the two. Gratefully, as a king, he can hide the reason behind his frustration by blaming his duties — claiming they were starting to get too much. People seem to buy it, except for two. 

“Peter, are you alright? You’ve been sighing like a mad man since you sat down.”

Lucy’s question only had the young king sighing again, not missing the way Lucy and Susan shared a glance before him.

“It’s those two,” he answers, nodding towards the two figures who had seemed to tuck themselves against each other under one of the castle’s big library shelves.

Both Lucy and Susan follow Peter’s gaze, faux fatigue lacing their shoulders as they watch Y/N and Edmund share fond looks to each other as they immerse into a novel. Y/N was holding the book, conveniently keeping it up between the two of them to read. Edmund had himself stood as support for the young girl who had relaxingly rested upon his chest, his arm behind her — flat against the surface to keep his weight on, allowing both of them to stay upright.

It would be a moment for couples — only if they were one.

“Who do you think will confess first?” Lucy loudly wondered. Although, not too loud to pop the bubble Edmund and Y/N had themselves in. Peter hummed, suddenly alert as if he wasn’t just huffing a few minutes ago. His sisters looked at him, eyes waiting for him to say something.

“What? Isn’t it obvious? I’m sure Y/N will say something first.”

Susan silently scoffs, mouth opening as if someone had just offended her. “Don’t think so lowly of Edmund, would you? I know it’s going to be him.”

“Ed, do you know what colours Peter’s planning for this year?” the young woman asks as she welcomes herself into Edmund’s bedroom. Upon hearing no answer and only the sounds of water running, she assumes he’s still busy giving himself a wash. Thinking he’ll be taking a while, she sits on the four-poster — fussing herself around as she gets comfortable, crossing her legs underneath herself. Relaxing in her seat, she opens the book she had on her hold — continuing where she had left off.

Getting herself lost in the plot, she fails to realise the sound of water stopping nor the fact that Edmund had come out of the washroom and had asked a question himself. It was only when the mattress beneath her dipped did she look up from her page, seeing Edmund looking fresh — wet hair dripping all over his sheets. “You’re not laying down with wet hair, are you?” Y/N asks, eyes narrowing at the sly smile growing on Edmund’s face. “No.” he simply answered, further provoking her as he slowly ascends on to his pillows.

Y/N only sighs, rolling her eyes as she stands up from her position to grab the stray towel the boy had half-mindedly discarded. “Come on,” she says, tapping his thigh lightly, “this way you won’t be waking up tomorrow, complaining about a mind-blowing head ache you have.”

Edmund scoffs at her dramatics, swinging his legs off to the edge of the bed. Y/N settles herself between his thighs, hands under the towel as she carefully dries Edmund’s hair.

He sighs, eyes closing and his hands making its way to her waist. He keeps them there, finding himself getting drowsy at the feeling of Y/N’s fingers through his hair and the soft humming she emits. “I like it when you dry my hair for me,” he whispers, eyes still closed. Y/N laughs softly, giving his hair once last swipe before putting the towel aside. Combing the strands lightly, she finishes her routine with a soft kiss to his head. “I know you do.”

“You’ve really outdone yourself this year, Pete! The party’s amazing!”

Peter laughs, amused at the unnecessary volume Y/N spoke. “I can hear you perfectly you know. No need to shout,” he teases, laughing again at the pout forming on her lips. “Do you know where Edmund went?! I’ve been looking for him all night, I have something to say to him!”

His eyes widen at the girl’s question. Could this finally be it?

As if on cue, Edmund presents himself — although a bit tipsy himself, not as much as Y/N is though. “What’s going on?”

“Ed!” she squeals, wrapping her arms around Edmund’s torso. The boy manages to catch himself from falling, giggling to himself as he too reciprocates the hug. “Oh dear, how many have you had?”

Y/N removed herself from Edmund, hands on her hips as she appears to be deep in thought. Edmund looks at his brother for an answer, only that Peter remains silent. Raising his arms halfway up in the air feigning innocence. She suddenly gasps in her place, quickly spinning around to face Peter. “You gave me two! And then… I think I grabbed another two. And maybe… Idunnoanymore, Ithink…” her words began slurring into each other, earning a chuckle from both brothers. Edmund feels himself slowly sobering up at her antics, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. “It’s bed time, don’t you think?”

“No… nonono, notyet—”

Peter remains silent from where he had stood himself, not before moving a little further away from where the pair were standing. He watches as Edmund remains calm, a dopy smile on his face as he dotes on you and your blabbing. He mentally pats himself on the back, triumph enveloping him as he hopes his initial plan of getting you together (finally) happens.

“Come on, my love, just a few more steps…” Edmund encourages, guiding his very drunk girlfriend back to his bedroom in one piece.

One day he’ll get Peter’s head for this.

As soon as the door opens — Y/N escapes Edmund’s grasp, almost catapulting herself onto the bed. She relaxes herself, taking a few deep breaths in before sitting back up. “Do you think… they know?” she hiccups, eyes barely open to look at Edmund.

Edmund feels his heart swell at the sight, his eyes giving nothing but love as he slowly helps Y/N get ready for bed. “I don’t think so,” he begins, wiping a damp wash cloth over her face – a hand gingerly placed under her chin to keep her from swaying. “But I do think Peter wants us to quicken up a bit, be together officially. Maybe that’s why he gave you too many to drink.”

She lets out a small huff, a pout on her lips. “But we already are together, Ed. It’s not our fault they remain oblivious.”

“I know, my love. What about we tell them tomorrow? How does that sound? Surprise them during breakfast, hm?”

Y/N laughs, a sound never failing to sound like music to Edmund’s ears. “That’s… good…” yawns break her words apart. Edmund slowly guides her to lay down, ensuring his actions are not too sudden for her to suddenly feel nauseous. “Let’s go to bed then, now, shall we?”

Not even finished with his sentence and Y/N’s were already closed, hands tugging onto the blankets to snuggle herself in further. Edmund smiles, standing up from where he perched onto the edge of the bed to now get himself ready. Right as he enters the washroom, a question is suddenly asked.

 “Ed, are you even drunk?”

He just laughs, not having the heart yet to tell you that he had caught on to Peter’s game very early on to the night. Not that he can for your soft snores had followed your question aright after.

thank you so much for reading until the end! as always, leave your thoughts/comments - i love reading them. constructive criticism is appreciated! •.˚⚘ ⋆.*.ゞ

[tending-the-hearth]

edmund absolutely adored snowy weather. waking up to snow on the ground was his dream come true, and he rarely waited long enough to be bundled up before rushing outside and leaping into the fluffy, cold snow. it was his favorite weather, and that was one trait about him that always made his mother and father laugh.

but upon the pevensie's return home, their mother notices the shift in edmund.

one evening, as it gets closer to christmas, she notices the snowfall outside, and smiles, calling to edmund, announcing the snow with the expectation that he'll rush to the glass, press his nose up against it, and ask delightedly if they can go sledding in the morning.

instead of the joyful shine in her youngest son's eyes, however, she sees nothing but horror as he abandons his chess game with susan in favor of scrambling backwards, getting as far away from the window as possible, curling up into the tiniest ball, his face pressed into his knees.

she's left at a loss for words, and reaches out for him, but she's too slow compared to his siblings. immediately, lucy's at her brother's side, crouching in front of him and holding his hands tightly as she whispers soft things in a nonsensical language. peter's grabbing the warmest blanket from the couch, and sitting beside edmund, wrapping it around his shoulders and tucking his brother against his side. susan's returning from the kitchen where she had rushed off to as soon as her mother announced the snow, a steaming mug of tea (not hot chocolate, never hot chocolate. the taste makes edmund want to vomit, memories of cold touches burning his skin, and tempting whispers of power in his ears) held tightly in her hands before it's passed off to edmund.

their mother can only watch as edmund shakes, eyes firmly fixed on lucy's face as she holds his hands with a smile, as peter begins speaking softly, a whispered story only for his siblings' ears, as susan gently runs her fingers (warm and firm, never cold and frail like the ones that haunt edmund's dreams) through his hair.

edmund doesn't love snow anymore.

[heliads]

Hello!! So excited that your requests are open! Would you do a Peter Pevensie X reader where they get trapped after battle (maybe in a cave waiting for the other pevensies to reach them) and the reader is injured so Peter has to care for her and some fluff and comfort?? Thank you! 💗💗💗 If you don't choose to write it thats ok!

masterlist

There are two soldiers in a cave, waiting for rescue. One is a king; the other, one of his subjects. He is sitting upright, alternating between anxiously scanning the mouth of the cave for intruders and staring back down at the girl. She is less active, but that is due in part to the ever growing pool of blood underneath her ribs. 

They have been here for quite some time already, and although the king will not admit it, he fears that it will be quite some time again before they are rescued. He must have faith, though, for both of them. It is hard not to worry. Not when Peter Pevensie can picture so plainly how they got here, and why they were forced into the cave to begin with. 

They were not supposed to be attacked, but it happened anyway. Narnia is a kingdom, and kingdoms fall. Rival kings lust for power that isn’t theirs, and peaceful homelands must rally to protect themselves. Soldiers turn to bitter struggles, cowards turn to run. You had two choices when the banner of war was lifted:  stay and fight, or leave and live.

You chose to stay. Will that be what kills you, wanting to be there for your friends? No one can tell for certain, but your blood is darkening the stones beneath you with a deeper stain than you’d like, and the thought of rescue is quite far off. There is no guarantee that anyone will reach you in time, regardless of what Peter is trying to whisper to you. There is no guarantee that you can hear him at all anymore.

Instead, you can hear him yesterday morning, strangely strong despite the early hour of the morning. Narnian spies had come back around dawn bearing news of an approaching army, one that didn’t look friendly. The Pevensies had been carefully monitoring threats to their kingdom for years, but no one could tell for sure that one would attack until they were already on horseback with hands on weapons.

There had been limited time for defense. Peter had rallied his army and their allies, and his siblings frantically evacuated the surrounding townspeople to a safer location, all the while battening down the hatches at home so that Cair Paravel would not be taken. Battle plans were drafted long ago, but it is one thing to write them up in the safety of peace, and something else entirely to have to use them.

The attackers didn’t arrive until midday. They gave an announcement that Narnia was to surrender peacefully or fall violently. Standing on the ramparts of the castle, looking down on the swarms of soldiers, you could feel anger burning in your chest at the insult of it all. As if Narnia would fall to a paltry foe like some neighboring king. As if there was any among your ranks that would not fight to their last breath to defend their kingdom.

Peter had given an answer somewhat along those lines, although, as coached by Susan, with a little more tact. You could tell he was fighting to keep his rage in check, though, if the red crescents imprinted into his palms from where his fingernails had bit into his palms were any sort of warning sign.

After that, the only thing left was to go to war. Before the fighting started, Peter had pulled you aside and asked if you really wanted to do this. You were a soldier of Narnia, a force fighting for good, but more than that, you were his friend, and Peter did not want to lose anyone if he could avoid it.

Tucked into a quiet alcove of Cair Paravel, golden hair rusted over with the shadows of the dark corner, Peter’s hands had tightened around yours as he said, “You can leave now, Y/N. If you want to. I want you to be safe.”

You had shaken your head. “Absolutely not. Narnia is my home, Peter. I can’t leave when she needs me.”

Peter had sighed ruefully, but the spark of pride behind his worried expression had told you what you wanted to know the most:  having you there with him meant more than he could possibly describe. The two of you are friends, just friends, but sometimes, you think that the sort of friendship you have with him has long outstripped any sort of bond of camaraderie either of you have held with anyone else. If you die, you will do it by his side. If he falls, he wants you there to see it.

Thus the battle was waged. You donned your armor as quickly as you could, grabbing your weapons before helping the other soldiers. It was time to defend your homeland. No cause could be more important. No risk could be as worthy.

The sun is setting over the hills; Peter cannot see much of it, tucked into the cave as the two of you are, but the loss of light is enough to cause him significant worry. The attackers, although arrived around noon the previous day, had waited until the dark of night to close their ranks and begin the fight. It had added a deadly edge of danger to an already perilous battle, what with the reduced visibility. 

The battle had been fought well through the night and into the next dawn, but Peter is not sure that another midnight spent in this stone refuge will prove a good idea for either of you. Mainly for you; Peter looks down again, noticing that your eyes flutter closed more than they stay open, and your skin looks dull and tired even without the loss of light. He pulls you closer to him, shuts his eyes, and prays to anyone who will hear, anyone worthwhile listening, that someone will save you. Not even him. It just has to be you.

Night falls and you hear the clang of steel against steel reverberating around you. Your soldiers, though kept in rigorous practice, have not been to war in a while. They do not exercise the cruelty that the enemy fighters seem to have in spades. What you do have is heart, though, and Narnia has taught you that even the most formidable of odds can be overturned in time.

Slowly, surely, light begins to creep over the sky, and the Narnians manage to push their attackers back from Cair Paravel, over the uneven, rocky ground and towards the mountains once more. Smooth ground twists itself with stone outcroppings, making the fight even trickier than it was before. You step over bodies on the ground, unable to tell whether they are friend or foe, but you force yourself to keep your head. It would not do to lose control now.

Dawn is upon you at last, touching rosy fingers over scarlet blood and pearlescent bone. There is no such thing as a good fight, an honorable war, and if you return home, the lingering knowledge of what has been done upon this land will sit with you for a long time to come. When you come home, that is. After all of this, you must survive. Narnia must survive.

A shout, a scream; soldiers pour over the hills again, and you realize with a chill that your enemies had reinforcements in line, waiting for something like this to happen. You managed to get yourself stuck on the outskirts of the battle in an attempt to go after some higher ranking officials in the enemy army, and now you’re lost in the downstream current of dozens of opposing soldiers flooding towards you. 

Too many for you to fight by yourself, that much is certain, but you have no choice now. They encircle you, and even as you manage to take down some, there are too many of them. One raises his sword as you parry another soldier, and when you blink, it has pierced your armor, threading your ribs. It doesn’t hurt and then it does, an agony like lightning rattling through your entire body.

You might scream, you’re not sure of it. You wait for them to kill you, but strangely enough, the death blow does not come. Someone catches you before you fall, and the early morning sun shines on golden curls. Peter. He’s found you, somehow, in the tumult of the battle. You can just hear him shouting to his men that he’s going to take you to cover, and then he’s picked you up, cradling you in his arms like a bride, and running for shelter.

There’s a cave not far from here. Peter stumbles in, twisting past boulders and turns in the tunnel before he gently puts you down behind the cover of a rocky outcropping. There are too many of them out there, running past the mouth of the cave, so Peter does not dare leave you even when you tell him that you’ll be fine. It is a lie. He knows it. He stays.

Peter tells you that, despite the arrival of the enemy reinforcements, he believes the battle will be settled in favor of the Narnians. The enemy fighters were desperate, they knew they were going to lose, which was why they called in more men. They’re still being forced past the Narnian borders, though, even with a king and a soldier pulled out of the fight like this.

Peter won’t risk leaving you, not with the precarious shape you’re in. Besides, the landscape is so messed up with rocks that he is not sure that he could find this particular cave if he steps outside of it to fight again. You can hear the shouts of men, but neither of you can tell whether they’re Narnian or not. To shout back is to risk death.

Instead, the two of you stay there in the cave, feeling the hours tick by, unable to do a thing about it. Peter grows more restless as you grow more still. He tells you that his siblings will look for the two of you, that when they come, you will be safe.

“We’ll be fine,” he says, voice unnaturally slow, like a schoolboy repeating a lesson he’s learned by heart, “We’ll be fine.” You’re not entirely sure if he believes it.

And then it is dark again, and there is still no one here. Peter does not know if you are alive. He is telling himself that you are, because to keep up desperate hope is far better than giving in to the fear that he has lost you like this. There is a chance you have survived; the enemy soldier who hit you had slashed you across the front instead of stabbing you directly, which is what Peter did when he stumbled upon the scene and realized that he was about to lose the only person that matters to him more than anything else. We all have our demons, our secrets.

A scratching sound at the mouth of the cave, somewhat like a mouse but heavier, too, more purposeful. Could an enemy soldier have come back to finish the job? They may not have been able to take Cair Paravel, but they could at least slaughter the High King while they were running away.

Peter feels his entire body tense, his hand resting on his sword. He dares not draw it, too afraid of risking the noise. He’ll fight for both of them if he has to. He’ll keep them alive a little longer. Y/N does not stir by his side.

And then– a voice, just a few meters away. “Peter?”

It’s his sister. It’s Susan. Peter lets out a gasp of relief that could be a sob and calls back as loudly as he dares, “Susan?”

A clattering of footsteps and three siblings descend into the cave. Edmund’s eyes are wide and scared, but the fear starts to go away when Peter carefully gets to his feet and pulls his younger brother into an embrace. Ed starts to say something about how he thought– he thought– but Peter says it’s okay, he is not hurt, but then the words roll back on his tongue because Y/N is not okay, and therefore he cannot be, either.

Lucy has already found her friend lying motionless on the ground and hurriedly rummages through the small red bag on her side, reaching for the healing cordial she received so long ago. She carefully lets a few drops fall onto Y/N’s mouth, and the entirety of several millennia passes before Y/N coughs quietly and starts to sit up.

Peter falls to his knees, wrapping his arms around her. Distantly, he hears Susan ushering his siblings away, something about wanting to give them space, but he does not care, he does not care because she is alright, Y/N is alright, and that means he is, too, very much alright.

Y/N whispers in his ear, voice still hoarse but healing, slowly. It’s okay, they have time. “You stayed?”

“Yes,” Peter says back, choking on some unnameable emotion, “I did. I would never leave you, Y/N. I– I love you. You know that.”

She does. “I love you too,” she says, and Peter can find it within himself to smile at last, to help her up, to walk back with her to the castle. They have time. It is okay. They will all, somehow, be alright after this, and that means that far fewer worries crown Peter’s head tonight and all nights after that.

requested by @ajwild220, i hope you enjoy!

narnia tag list: empty for now, message me to be added!

[thepoetsmanuscript13]

A football team ― Peter Pevensie modern au

author’s note: hello everyone! a weird first post honestly but i was feeling it after talking about it with my friend sooo... :) a totally out of pocket au in which the pevensies are all alive and well and live in this century and peter is a married man 🤭 i don’t know how i feel about this thing, though, like i’m having mixed feelings about it, but if i don’t publish it now i’ll never do it lol

pairing: peter pevensie x female reader

summary: Peter Pevensie had started being sure of things the moment he met you by accident during his first year of university. You two didn’t even study the same degree, but you’d happened to see each other frequently in the same spot at the library, and when he finally dared to ask you out, years passed in the blink of an eye. Nowadays, you’re happy to call him your husband and the father of your children.

warnings: female reader, reader is pregnant, modern au in which everyone is happy and alive (lmao), peter pevensie is a teacher and a football (soccer) manager, plot’s not even a plot (lol), too many children, fluff, english isn’t my first language (i don't think i missed anything)

word count: 1869 words

requests are open, i write for many fandoms (maybe i can make a list of them idk)

You couldn’t help but love your chaotic family. It was the best thing that had happened to you, along with marrying Peter. Your life was a busy one, but it was also full of love. You saw it in the mornings, when your household became a place of madness and your four children ran around the hallways while they got ready for school. You saw it when you got in the car with them―of course, one of those big cars with too many seats because you wouldn’t fit in a regular one―and your husband drove for more than twenty minutes to some place, leading to fights and shouts and cries. You saw it at dinner, when the six of you sat at the table and ate whatever Peter had cooked and they all talked about their day, screamed over each other’s voices, and protested about not liking peas or broccoli or carrots. You saw it at night, when you and your husband fell into bed completely spent once the house was, finally, silent and all of them were sleeping.

You had a lot to celebrate with a family like that. People―mums from school―usually asked you how you managed. How you and Peter could take care of a family like that and still have time to love each other. Your answer was that you loved each other while you took care of your children.

And, of course, leaving the kids with their aunts or uncle or grandparents when you two wanted to have a weekend for yourselves also helped.

But, most of the time, it was you and Peter, and you were happy like that. It was a life that’d been made for you. Because, being honest, you’d never wanted to get married or have children. You’d always said those things weren’t for you. That you’d be the single, cool aunt type.

Until you met Peter during your first year of university. It changed everything you thought you were sure of, and you realised you simply hadn’t wanted that kind of life because, until then, you hadn’t met a person you’d like to have those things with. With him, everything changed. You saw yourself walking down the altar. You saw yourself building a home with him. You saw yourself thrilled because you two were waiting for a child. You saw yourself growing old with him by his side.

You’d never believed in the “right person” thing until you met him. Once you had, everything fell into place. And now you were at the peak of your happiness after discovering you were pregnant with your fifth child. Well― Fifth and sixth. Twins.

It had been an accident, really. Well, kind of an accident.

When you found out you were pregnant again, you and Peter had agreed that this was going to be the last one. Four children were already a significant number. You two were managing quite well with your numerous offspring, and a fifth was already going to be a challenge. But you knew your man. You knew him well enough to know that he somehow would manage to trick you one last time.

He indeed did when the doctor announced that you were carrying twins. You remember Peter’s mischievous grin. And your first reaction―slap his arm and call him a bastard. But you weren’t mad. It was going to be a challenge, but you could never reject what was the product of the love you and Peter had for each other.

You sometimes regretted your thoughts, though, during your eighth month of pregnancy. Some days you felt like giving up and staying in bed all day. Your back pain was killing you, and those two babies were definitely Peter’s, because they knew how to kick to make themselves known.

“You don’t have to come, my love,” Peter told you, and pressed a kiss to your hair.

You scoffed. “But I will,” you replied.

Your husband grinned and leaned to kiss your lips tenderly. His hand snaked down your body to settle on your round belly, and he smiled in the middle of the kiss. Your babies kicked in that exact moment, like they knew it was their father greeting them.

A long “ew” was heard from the kitchen’s doorway, and you two turned your heads to look at your second son, Samuel, who was already wearing his football kit. A grin appeared in your face and you gestured to him to come closer.

“You don’t like seeing dad kissing mum, Sam?” Peter asked him while ruffling his hair. The little boy put his hands on your knees and pressed his cheek to your baby bump.

“No!” Samuel answered. “It’s gross!”

“Oh, baby,” you laughed and stroked his blonde hair―you were still wondering how it was possible that all your children had inherited Peter’s golden hair―while he interacted with his unborn siblings. “It’s not gross. We do it because we love each other.”

“You don’t kiss me on the mouth but you love me,” he replied, thoughtful.

His father chuckled. “‘Course not, lad. Those kisses are just for partners,” he explained with a smile, amused by his son’s reasoning. He was a clever boy, they knew that much.

“Hmmm…” he mumbled, and narrowed his eyes in deep thought.

You couldn’t help a grin. Samuel was always asking questions and making up his own reasoning about why something was one way or another. Peter said he reminded him of his brother Edmund, who used to spend the time with his nose buried in books, but with his youngest sister Lucy’s character, who was definitely much more adorable and less… Well, less “Edmund”.

Peter kissed his son’s head and went upstairs to get the girls, who were probably still playing with the last Lego they’d been gifted. Legos were a must in your house. Legos everywhere. In the bedrooms, in the bathroom, in the back garden, in the living room. More than once you had stepped on one, and they hurt a lot. You always told them to gather the pieces and put them in their box, but your words were often ignored and forgotten. As a mother of four, you were used to it by now.

You heard giggles coming from the upper floor. Your husband was such a girl dad. He did what was necessary to put a smile in Audrey’s, Ruby’s, or Emma’s face. From letting them do his makeup―the amount of pictures you had with Peter’s face covered in red lipstick was infinite―to buying them a little foam sword and teaching them how to use it. You were scared they would take an eye out with those, but he was chill about it. He said that his girls needed to defend themselves from the bad guys. You thought one day they would end up punching someone for real with all the things he taught them.

Football, swimming, using a sword, makeup… He’d even tried to teach Audrey how to bake―no need to say it didn’t end up very well, and he spent a whole afternoon cleaning the counters and walls and floor. To this day, you hadn’t seen a mess like that one.

Some minutes later, Peter came back with three little monkeys clinging to him, the monkeys being your three daughters. Emma, the youngest of them, was in his right arm, while Ruby, the one in the middle, was in the left, and Audrey, the eldest―seven already, how time flew!―was hanging from his back.

You were going to die from a heart attack one day.

“Audrey! You’re going to make dad fall!” you said, standing from the chair while Sam held your hand.

“No, mum! I’m Spiderman!” she said, making her father grin. Since they had gone to the cinema to watch the last Spiderman film, Audrey had been pretending that she had superpowers. It’d been funny until she tried to start climbing the walls and you almost had a heart attack.

You shook your head.“Peter, do something,” you scolded your husband.

“Audrey, darling,” he immediately said, and you smiled―so obedient―, “I wouldn’t like your mum to get mad at me.” When his daughter opened her mouth to protest, he added, “And we’re going to be late to the match if we don’t hurry.”

“Yes, football!” Both Samuel and Ruby cheered, while Emma mimicked her siblings’ words in her father’s arms. Your little girl was two years old and she was such a brilliant kid already. She loved to grab Mr. Badger, the cat, by his tail and to do all kinds of villainies to him. The poor cat endured too much with your daughter, but he also was extremely protective of her and always made sure she didn’t hurt herself.

“Football it is,” you declared, and winked at your children.

The whole of your family exited the house and went to the car. You sat on the passenger’s seat―not without great difficulty―while Peter took care of your children. With your big belly, you were grateful you could even walk on your own. You could barely wait until the birth day, not only because you wanted to see your babies, but also because it was exhausting, being pregnant with twins.

Once your husband had secured all of your children in their seats, he drove to the school. He worked there as a science teacher, and thought at first it hadn’t been an option, when the previous football manager―who’d been some maths teacher―had retired, the juniors didn’t have anyone to train them, and Peter, loving kids and football as much as he did, decided to take the responsibility. Now, you knew he couldn’t picture himself without being the manager of those kids.

When you arrived there, most of the team was already there, and so were their parents, and the rival team. Peter quickly kissed you and he, Samuel, and Ruby left to get ready for the match. Meanwhile, you, Audrey, and Emma went to sit at the stands. You couldn’t stand for too long, and you liked getting seats close to your husband so you could watch him close during the match.

It was adorable, watching him interact with the kids. He ruffled their hair when they walked past him, encouraged them to be their best, and treated them like adults. They liked Peter a lot and he liked them back, and all their parents, but especially their mothers, always told you that you had struck gold when you married him.

As if you already didn’t know that you were the luckiest woman in the world to have him in your life.

You were sure that Peter was almost like a second father for many of those kids. They spent a good amount of hours together every week, training and at the matches, and it was very easy to like your husband. Even if he got a little competitive during every football game.

“Pass the ball to your brother, Corin!”

Maybe too competitive.

“Eyes up, Alice! Eyes on the ball!”

But, whatever he did, it seemed to work, because the school’s team won most of their matches. After the game, the kids all cheered while their parents clapped. Peter’s eyes met yours for some seconds and you smiled.

[hpnarnia1d]

I really don't want this Narnia series........ because I don't like the idea of someone else playing the love of my life. Like I trust Greta (now) to make the series something wonderful.....but Peter was fine as he was being played by William!!! Same with all the other characters, like those movies were part of early 2000s magic and to redo them just seems like they're going to mess it up (same with the hp series).

But also Peter was and still is my ult crush. I don't want someone else other than William to portray him.... because as much as I liked the book version of Peter, William is the reason I love Peter.

[lightwing-s]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

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⌟

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.

[promptthebear]

Peter Pevensie x F!Reader

Summary: You end up stranded in Narnia after a routine errand with your family goes awry. The Pevensie siblings take you on an outing to a nearby lake to help pass the time. Chaos ensues. Fem!Reader, set during The Golden Age, written in 2nd person with reader referred to as "you"

A/N: So...this is also using the prompt "Oh look, my will to live, it's gone" bc the anon who sent it also requested Peter and after I did the Tormund version I couldn't get this idea out of my head so...Peter anon wherever you are. Enjoy.

The whole thing was, as usual, Edmund’s fault.

You and your parents had come to pay the Narnian royal family a visit. It was meant to be a quick trip, your father only wanted to petition King Peter for some rights to more farmland when the simple errand was waylaid by a broken carriage wheel. Thankfully, the accident had happened just outside city limits but had left you with an injured driver and no way home.

Since then, you had all been guests at the Cair for nearly three weeks while a solution was found. Under normal circumstances, being stranded anywhere would’ve been tedious at best, with nothing to do but wile away the long days in some dusty inn. You instead found yourself quite enjoying your little detour, given that you were of an age with King Peter and each of his siblings give or take a couple years. They hadn’t hesitated to bring you into the fold, filling your waking hours with various distractions and excursions.

Today’s particular trip had been to the lake, a pleasant little spot with a pebbly beach, calm green waters and a dock for fishing about an hour’s ride from the castle. While Narnian summer wasn’t quite in full swing, it was still a much hotter country than you were used to and you appreciated the cool breeze that danced across the water and gently caressed your skin.

“Do you swim, my Lady?”

At the sound of Peter’s voice, you turned, and gave the King a shy smile.

“I’m afraid not, Your Majesty. Ettismoor is a frigid land, barren and mostly made of mountains. There aren’t any lakes that I’m aware of, so I never really had the means to learn.”

“Pity,” Peter replied “These waters are perfect for it.”

“We could always teach you, couldn’t we Peter?” Lucy piped up from where she was skipping rocks along the shore line “You’re practically part fish, yourself. Everyone always says so.”

The tips of Peter’s ears suddenly turned red, though whether that was from heat or something else, you couldn’t say.

“You and Susan might have to do the teaching, Lu.” he said, clearing his throat “I don’t think our guest is quite ready to have me prancing about in my smallclothes just yet.”

Lucy let out a giggle, before turning back to searching the ground for flat rocks.

“I suppose you’re right. I’m so used to all of us swimming together, I forgot we aren’t exactly dressed in “proper” clothes when we do.”

You quickly ducked your head, and stared fixedly down at the water. Whether you had wanted it to or not, your mind had snatched up the idea of Peter in a state of undress and run with it. The more you tried to push it away, the more insistent the idea became and the hotter your face grew.

What would he look like, you couldn’t help but wonder, stripped of his doublets and tunics? He’d be well muscled, certainly. You knew he was strong, the other day he’d lifted you onto the back of your horse as easily as someone else might lift a cup of tea. The question was whether that strength was in his arms alone, or if he’d been blessed with a wide chest and chiseled stomach as well? And would he be smooth skinned under his clothes? Or would he have a healthy dusting of hair across his torso, not unlike the reddish beard that adorned his face?

“Penny for your thoughts, my lady?”

The sound of Peter’s voice made you start slightly, and you turned to him, hoping you didn’t look as frantic as you felt. You longed to come up with something witty and clever, something that would make him laugh and flash that devastating smile your way. Though, given that your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears you could hardly think, perhaps coherent was a better choice.

“I-”

A sudden, loud shriek from the general direction of the shore saved you from having to answer. Thankful for the distraction, you glanced over your shoulder and were surprised to see Susan running towards you at full pelt, with Edmund hot on her heels.

“Edmund! You get that disgusting creature away from me, this instant!” the young queen shouted, all decorum forgotten in her panic.

“Oh come on, Sue, it could be a prince! Why don’t you kiss him and see?”

As the two came closer, you glimpsed something small and greenish clutched in Edmund’s cupped hands. You knew right away it was a frog, and shuddered sympathetically on Susan’s behalf. You didn’t much care for the beasts either. Their wet skin and bulging eyes made your stomach turn.

“Will you behave yourselves?” Peter bellowed, his voice taking on a distinct kingly quality “For Aslan’s sake, Ed, we’re not children anymore!”

Neither Susan nor Edmund paid any attention to their brother’s admonishing. Instead, they kept on their chaotic race, down from the grassy shore, across the beach where pebbles flew in their wake and right onto the little dock where you and Peter currently stood.

“Edmund, I’m serious, if you don’t stop it this instant I’m going to thump you so hard-”

“Pucker up, Susan! You don’t want your betrothed to think you don’t like him, do you?”

“Oi! Watch out!”

You’d taken a step backwards to try and escape from the fracas, only to find your boot sinking through thin air rather than onto the dock like you’d planned. All too quickly, the rest of your body followed suit, sending you backwards towards the water, shrieking and flailing like a windmill.

The cold hit you first, making you feel as though someone had just dumped a bucket of ice over your head. You opened your mouth to scream again, perhaps on the slim chance someone would come to your aid, only to have your nose and throat immediately fill with water. Now the cold was inside of you, clawing into the pit of your stomach and freezing your bones in place. You could feel your body tensing with shock, making your feeble attempts to swim to the surface all the more impossible.

Then again, what difference did it make if you tried or not anymore? In order to get to the surface, you needed to know where it was and after being tossed and turned around in this frigid, murky nightmare you weren’t even sure which way was up anymore. The fact of the matter was that you were going to drown, your young life cut short all because you’d never learned to swim.

With your lungs burning and your heart pounding in your ears, you closed your eyes and let your body go limp. Once you stopped fighting, the water seemed to respond in kind. For a moment, you felt strangely peaceful, as though the lake was cradling you in its embrace. You allowed the weight of your shoes and dress to pull you down further into the darkness, imagining you were snuggled deep beneath the blankets on your own bed at home. You were going to die anyway, so why make your last moments fearful ones when you could simply…let go?

You had no sooner accepted your fate when you found yourself suddenly being wrenched in what you assumed was an upward direction. Someone, or something, had managed to hook itself beneath your armpits and was tugging you free of the water with a surprising amount of strength.

Faintly, you recalled that there were merfolk living in Narnia, though the idea only confused you further. Surely if there were such a people, they would be living in the oceans by the coast? And not in some little lake way off in the forests? Whatever this thing was, it seemed determined to save you, and who were you to be ungrateful?

All thoughts of mermaids and otherwise vanished as your rescuer finally brought you to the surface. The moment your face broke through the water, you took deep gasping breaths even though each one stung as though your lungs were filled with angry hornets.

“Are you alright, my lady?”

You tried to place the source of the voice, though when you looked up you could see nothing more than a hazy silhouette, haloed by the bright afternoon sunshine. The shape was human enough, but aside from that there was nothing human about it.

Where people were made of flesh and blood, this being was made of diamonds and spun gold. Nothing in the mortal world could be this beautiful. You reached up to touch your rescuer’s face, your addled mind convinced that if you could just make contact with them somehow, then all that goodness and beauty would flow into you and make your head stop aching so abominably.

It was only when your fingers brushed against the curls of a beard that you finally clued in.

Peter.

“I’m okay!” you all but shouted, sitting up so quickly you nearly smacked your head off the King’s chin. He had been kneeling over you, almost cradling your body within the frame of his arms as he’d inspected you for damage. It actually would’ve been rather nice, were it not for the fact that you were utterly mortified.

“Steady,” Peter said, bringing one of his hands to rest against the small of your back “You don’t want to move too quickly, my lady, otherwise-”

Right on cue you began to cough, your lungs rejecting all the water within them as a fish’s gills reject air. You clung to Peter’s arm for dear life as your body trembled with the effort, your fingers tangling in smooth silk of his sleeve.

The King sat with you while you shook, his blue eyes clouding with concern as he rubbed your back soothingly and murmured faint words of encouragement you couldn’t quite hear. When the spasms had finally run their course, he slipped his arm around your middle and gently guided you to your feet. The simple act of standing made your head spin, and you clung to Peter all the more tightly, far less worried about propriety than you were about not falling back in the lake.

“I’ve got you,” he said softly, adjusting his hold on your waist before rounding on his siblings.

“Are you happy now, Ed? Now that you’ve nearly killed someone? I hope your foolishness was worth it.”

“I’m sorry,” the other king mumbled, his expression of boyish contrition making for a strange contrast with his manly features “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Why am I not surprised? Could you perhaps try and look at her when you apologize? I think you owe her that much, at least..”

“I’d…I’d rather not.”

Peter’s brow creased, the eyes beneath them flashing with rage. He was no longer a King, but rather an exasperated older brother, just like a hundred others in his kingdom.

“Ed, of all the disrespectful-first you practically drown the poor girl and now you don’t even to have the decency to look her in the eye when you-”

“Peter.”

Four heads, yours, Edmund’s, Lucy’s and Peter’s, all turned towards Susan. The young Queen’s face was serenely calm, which was at odds with her bright pink cheeks. Susan didn’t strike you as the type to get embarassed or angry often, so what exactly was it that could have her in this state?

“Peter. She’s…she’s soaked.”

You stared at Susan, equally as puzzled as her brother. Of course you were wet, you’d just gone for a surprise dip in the lake. Why was that such a cause for concern?

Unfortunately, you and Peter happened to glance down at the same moment. Your pale green, silk dress, which had seemed like such a clever choice this morning given the heat, was sticking to you like a second skin. Every part of your body was visible, from the divot of your navel to the outline of your breasts and the curves of your thighs and ass. For all the good your dress was doing you, you may as well have been standing there as naked as the day you were born.

“Oh look,” you said to no one in particular as you brought your hands up to preserve what little modesty you could “My will to live, it’s gone.”

“Damn it all” Peter said, flushing red to his hairline “Come here, let’s get you sorted.”

No sooner had the words left Peter’s lips then you became aware of movement from the corner of your eye. You stole a glance up from your feet, and were surprised to see Peter’s fingers flying down the length of buttons on the front of his shirt. With each one opened, another inch of the King’s skin became visible, and as much as you hated yourself for it, you couldn’t help but stare. Was this really happening?

Your fantasies hadn’t been too far off. Peter was strong, the muscles in his arms flexing as he shrugged his shirt from his shoulders. A dusting of curly, reddish hair adorned his chest and stomach, growing in thickness and darkening in color the closer it got to the waistband of his pants. He was also covered in freckles, which spread across his shoulders like a cloak and most likely went down the length of his back.

If Peter noticed your staring, he thankfully didn’t seem bothered by it.

As soon as he’d removed his shirt, he was draping it over your shoulders, guiding your arms into the sleeves and doing up the buttons as though you were a child. You stood, dumbfounded, your mouth dry and your throat tight. The shirt still held the warmth of Peter’s flesh, and smelled faintly of soap and sweat.

“Thank you, your Majesty.” you said, your voice noticeably hoarse.

“You’re welcome.” Peter replied, giving you a warm smile and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. He seemed far more comfortable now that you were covered.

“I think it’s time we head home, don’t you?”

This was from Lucy, who had been rather silent throughout the whole debacle, but as always had a keen knack for jumping in with the perfect suggestion at the perfect moment.

“High time,” came Edmund’s answer, and he quickly turned heel and started walking back towards the shoreline, as though if he ran quickly enough he could outrun the fact that he caused this mess in the first place.

The other Pevensies followed suit, Susan going after Edmund, Lucy following Susan and you and Peter bringing up the rear. Much to your surprise, the King was holding your hand, gently guiding you back towards shore, as though he was afraid you’d drift off if he let go.

As you walked, your eyes were drawn to the lines of Peter’s back, hungrily tracing his shoulders and the slant of his waist like you were trying to commit them to memory. Much like you’d thought, his back was covered in freckles, the faint dots forming constellations across Peter’s smooth, tanned skin. You wanted nothing more than to reach out, wrap your arms around his middle and plant a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“You sure you’re alright?”

Peter was still walking, but he’d turned his head to the side so he could glance at you over his shoulder. The sight of his blue eyes, looking at you so intently, made your pulse quicken.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” you said, hoping against hope he hadn’t felt your stare.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. I’m sorry Edmund is such a prat. We’ve been waiting for him to grow up for ages, but somehow I don’t think it’s ever going to really happen.”

“No harm done, your majesty” You replied, keeping your eyes trained downwards so you wouldn’t slip on the rocky shore and make yourself into an even bigger fool “Thank you, for rescuing me, and for loaning me your shirt.”

Peter chuckled softly, and shook his blonde curls from his eyes before speaking.

“You’re welcome. I actually think it suits you better than me, anyway.”

[luunaz]

[Morning with Peter Pevensie]

pairing: Peter Pevensie x reader

type: fluff 🍀

an: i have a hyperfixation on Narnia again 😔 English is not my native language, so sorry if there are mistakes. You can write to me and I will correct them.

It was early morning. The sky had already lightened, but the sun was not yet visible due to the dense row of trees. A chill ran through your skin when you went out on the balcony. Cair Paravel was so beautiful now. From mountain and forest areas to the gently blue sea. You leaned against the railing and closed your eyes. The fresh air filled your lungs and besotted your mind. This place has always calmed you down, given you a slight feeling of happiness. It seemed as if everything in this world was solvable. There are no problems, sorrows and bitterness. Just you and…

— Go back to bed, — a quiet voice sounded in your ear. You smiled gently at Peter, who had just woken up and looked so adorable with his disheveled hair. He gently put his arms around your waist and pulled you to him. His embrace was hot, which contrasted sharply with the cool and fresh air. Involuntarily, you snuggled even closer to him.

— I'm sorry, did I wake you up?

— Not really. I woke up and didn't see you next to me, — Peter looked at the sea, which gradually began to turn fiery colors. The sun is rising. — We have a little more time to just lie in bed before I have to go about my business.

— I want to stay here a little longer, — you looked pleadingly into his bright blue eyes. Peter turned you around to face him. He touched your cheek, and then he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. At that moment, all you were thinking about was that time would stop. You just wanted to stay here, in the arms of your king, forever.

— No matter how much time passes, my heart will beat as fast as the day I first saw you, — you said, smiling.

There was a twinkle in Peter's eyes. Yes, this man was definitely very passionate about everything he does, and when it comes to expressing his own feelings, he doesn't even think to hold back. Before you knew it, Peter kissed your lips. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, trying to adjust to such a passionate kiss. First, he kissed your lips, then he moved on to your cheeks, nose, forehead and neck. You gasped when his soft lips touched your collarbone.

— I think we should go back to the bedroom,— Peter said, and picked you up in his arms.

— I think so too, — you said with a smile, flicked the man on the nose.

[ariwritessometimes]

The Chronicles of Narnia Masterlist

Caspian

The Faded Portrait of a Bygone Era series

Summary: Five Royals ruled over Narnia, crowned by Aslan himself. Their story is legend throughout all the land. A great detail of note is that these Kings and Queens are from another world. The fifth is even more odd - for she came from the same world as the others, but from an entirely different century.

When this small family is separated by time, it seems unlikely that they will ever meet again. But Aslan’s will is a tricky thing. Will the five be able to cope in this new Narnia, when everything they knew has gone, and a Telmarine Prince makes a bid for the throne?

Series Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Magic, Major Character Death

Read on Ao3 (x Reader)

Read on Quotev (x OC)

Complete

Additional Content:

I made a playlist

Another playlist courtesy of @thefairywanderer !

Edmund Pevensie

Captain of the Guard one shot

Summary: A mysterious knight shows up and challenges the King to a duel. This stranger turns out to be connected to the royals' past.

Peter Pevensie

Some Things Are Meant to Be one shot

Summary: Peter is in love with you, but he thinks you love Edmund.

The Lady of Calormen one shot

Summary: The High King of Narnia is betrothed to a Calormen noblewoman. The entire kingdom is on edge, waiting to see what she will be like. After meeting her, however, Peter finds something stirring inside.

A Lovely Night one shot

Summary: Overwhelmed by royal duties, Peter starts to notice that he's slowly losing the one that means the most. What can be done to win her back?

Peter Pevensie comforting you after a nightmare (Golden Age) imagine

[lokotrona11]

Gift kisses

Pairing : Peter Pevensie x Reader

summary : You go out with Caspian but Peter won't stop kissing you.

Word count : Less than 1k maybe 800

AN: The gif is not mine, I am not correcting what he published, and it is also taken from Casi angeles. I think nothing more.

----

Caspian knocks on the door to your room and you hold a mask in your hands. ''Please, let's talk''

He insists again but you don't move from the bed. 

''I don't want to talk to you Caspian, go away'' 

You are supposed to be angry when you see Caspian and Susan kiss during the night but that's not the case, you don't think about Caspian and his adventure, rather your mind only replays the moment when Peter kissed you with the mask you held.

Of course, Caspian didn't know and seeing him with Susan had given you the perfect excuse to excuse your lack of desire to see him.

You didn't want to do this to Caspian, you thought you loved him, but when Peter pulled you away from the dance to kiss you on the night you would be introduced to Caspian and it would be like an engagement, you world fell apart, the same night your boyfriend kissed Susan when he had to dance with her when he couldn't find you. 

''What's wrong with you, King?'' You say into the air, seeing the mask.

''I'm doing everything wrong.'' You force the mask into the box. ''everything wrong'' You scold yourself. 

A noise starts at your window and your neck almost breaks looking in that direction. 

Peter was coming through your window.

you squeal. ''What are you doing here?''

In a second you have Peter inches from you. ''What do you want?'' 

''Another kiss.'' He claims and kisses you, without asking permission or forgiveness. 

You want to refuse, but as soon as his lips touch yours your brain shuts down, your body gives up without a fight and you can only follow his rhythm. but then you gather strength and push him away.

''Stop, are you crazy?"

''Yes, yes, for you. ''He says throwing himself back into you. 

Manage to touch your lips before you brush it away, or well what you can

''No, no, no, you are Caspian's number one enemy, what you want is to take advantage of me...'' You throw him towards the window again. 

Peter doesn't seem to make any effort to return to your lips, cupping the back of your neck and you try not to melt.

''Stop, I don't like being shut up with a kiss'' 

His eyebrows bend. ''You love to be silenced with a kiss,'' he accuses. 

You laugh adjusting your hair. ''Who told you?''

''Look, I know you think this isn't right, but you don't love him, and I'm going to prove it to you.'' Take your face. ''I love you, and you love me''

They deflate you. ''Ha! "I don't love you at all, boy king."

Smile so hinoptic. ''Great king they tell me'' 

''don't correct me.'' You complain.

''You're leaving, you're leaving'' You try to throw him out. 

''How pretty you are'' He says, stealing a kiss from you, again. 

Your hands freeze in the air, your body sways as he wants and you only have control in your lips that follow his taste anyway. 

''No, really, go or they will discover you''

Peter smiles like a fool at your comment. ''Aww, you don't want to be discovered, you're cuter.'' He tries to touch you but you hold his hands. 

''That? It's not that... I don't want you... Go away, goodbye.'' 

''I'm leaving with one condition''

 ''Which?''

''We will see us again''

''No because... Well that's fine'' You scratch the back of your neck. ''But no..''

he shuts you up with a kiss. 

''Is it possible?''

You hear Caspian's voice again and you separate, you see Peter getting under the bed and you throw yourself on the mattress and at that moment you catch Peter's hand under your thigh without noticing it

The door opens when you bend one leg. 

''What are you doing?''

You squeak looking at him and undo your strange pose and Peter tries to remove his hand but you don't move, nor notice.

''I told you before not to come in, I'm doing my exercises.'' You raise one arm and flex your leg. 

Caspian approaches you ''My love, listen to me, I can't go to sleep like this'' He tries to explain.

You despair when you see your boyfriend so close to you and you throw a pillow at him which makes him stop. ''What do you want to talk to me? No, go away, I don't want to talk to you now"

Caspian steps back and clasps his hands. ''If I hurt you it was accidentally, forgive me''

''Well, bye.'' You throw another pillow. 

''Talk tomorrow?'' 

''Yes, tomorrow, Goodbye Caspian!''

The last pillow hits your door and falls to the floor as Caspian leaves. 

You sigh in relief. ''It was a second that I thought... '' You're rambling without seeing it. 

''The hand, my hand'' You hear it and only then do you see the situation. 

''Sorry!'' You screech, removing your body. Peter comes out from under the bed. ''What are you doing with your hand there...?'' 

Peter doesn't answer that, he just puts his hands on his hips and raises his eyebrows at you. ''Is this how you treat your boyfriends now?"

Your gaze hardens. ''Bye, you're leaving''

You demand and stand up.

''Are you going to wait for my message?''

''No, I'm not going to wait any.. emm.. goodbye.'' You look away from him. ''You're leaving, can you leave?'' 

''What do you have there?'' Peter touched your lips.

''What do I have?'' You say but before you continue Peter steals a small kiss from you and runs away. 

You laugh without grace and before I cross the window you speak.

''What time?''

Peter comes back to you and you kiss, this time without opposition. 

''Wait for it'' he says, walking away.

Peter leaves your room and you only have to sit on the edge of your bed, sighing. 

[nightingale2004]

My fancast for the Pevensie siblings (adult version)

High king Peter Pevensie, the magnificent

Faceclaim: Nikolaj Coster-Waldau

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

King Edmund Pevensie, the Just

Faceclaim: Michiel Huisman

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

High Queen Susan Pevensie, the Gentle

Faceclaim: Katie Mcgrath

☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇

Queen Lucy Pevensie, the Valiant

Faceclaim: Jenna Coleman

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

+ King Caspian X, the Navigator

Faceclaim: Ben Barnes

(WHY TF WOULD I NEED TO CHANGE HIM?! BEN BARNES IS PERFECTION✨️ 👌 )