#high king peter x you

[versatancore]

peter *flirty* : i love you :)

caspian *flirts back* : what are we, enemies to lovers?

peter *turns to edmund* : lmao, bro thinks he's good enough to be my enemy.

caspian : i hate you.

[bambieyedoll]

⊹ ⋆ ꒰ఎﾟMOODBOARD ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

peter pevensie⠀⠀ ﹝〝⠀golden age⠀!⠀⠀╱︎⠀⠀high king, the magnificent .⠀﹞ the chronicles of narnia .

[fandomgirlz01]

Forever Yours Pt. 9

Peter Pevensie x Reader

Prompt?: No

Request?: No

Requested prompt?: No

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings here

You can listen to the story be read out loud here. {coming soon}

Post Date: June 3rd 2023

Post Time: 3:18 AM

Edited: Yes

Word count: 5,295 

Summary:  The Pevensie children and their lifelong childhood friend get sent away from home to be safe from the blitz. Soon the five find themselves on a life changing journey that takes many different twists and turns. What will happen to the five on their journey? Will they all learn valuable lessons? What will come of their journey together?

Peter’s Pov: 

“Well, are you ready to get up, y/n/n?” I ask her, but she doesn’t reply. 

Confused, I pull her off of my shoulder to see her eyes are closed with no sign of movement at all. I quickly lay her in my lap before trying to figure out what’s wrong. Just as I pull my hand off her waist, I notice blood on my hand and I feel sick. 

“Lucy!” I yell out to my little sister and she turns around with confusion clearly written on her face. 

“What is it, Peter?” she shouts back with her hands on her hips. 

“Quick! Y/n’s hurt too!” I shout and her face falls before rushing over to us. 

“What happened?” she questions as she bends down to y/n. 

“I don’t know. One minute she was just leaning against me and the next she wasn’t replying,” I panickedly explain, staring at the blood on my hand as Lucy pours a few drops into y/n’s mouth. 

“There. That should help,” Lucy promises with a nod before she stands back up and Aslan strides over to stand next to her. 

“As it should. It is not yet her time,” Aslan says, nodding his head in agreement with Lucy’s statement.

“Let me know when she wakes up. I want a hug from her too,” Lucy informs with a grin before rushes back over to the others. 

Aslan looks at me with sympathy in his eyes before giving a light nod and bow of his head. He smiles softly at me, giving me a calming feeling before strolling over to the rest. 

I hold y/n close as I wait maybe two or three more minutes before she gasps and her eyes slowly blink open. Letting out a sigh of relief, I pull her up into a seated position before pulling her onto my lap so I can hold her as close to me as I physically can. 

“Oh, thank Aslan. I was scared there for a minute,” I tell her as I hold her head softly to my shoulder before giving the side of her forehead a kiss. 

“I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to,” she whispers quietly against my shoulder. 

“Next time you're hurt, please just tell me,” I practically beg her, my voice cracking ever so slightly and she nods. 

“Deal. I’m sorry, I was just so focused on Edmund,” she explains to me and I grin as I pull back to look at her. 

“I believe I owe my Queen a kiss,” I coyly state with a smirk as I wiggle my eyebrows and she giggles, shaking her head. 

“I believe you do…” she agrees with me, nodding her head and I grin. 

It feels like time slows down as we both lean towards one another. I tilt my head ever so slightly and before I know it, our lips are connecting in a sweet, passionate kiss. Her kiss feels like coming home, all soft and pillowy like sweet silk against mine. 

I can feel her playing with my hair as our noses brush ever so slightly and a warm feeling spreads through me. It’s at that moment that I decide that she will be the only person I ever kiss again and that hers is my favorite by far. The kiss continues for what seems like forever, but I smile against her lips as it feels like it’s only me and her in this field. 

All too soon, though, I find myself slightly frowning as she pulls away for air and I find myself chasing her lips, wanting them back on my own. She lets out a light giggle, the air of her breath fanning my face before she leaves one last kiss on my lips. I quickly pull her a little closer, not wanting this to end, and rub my nose against hers, making her giggle. She puts her forehead to mine and smiles down at me as I smile up at her. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for… a really long time…” I breathily explain and she smiles even bigger (if that’s even possible) as she continues to play with the hair on the nip of my neck. 

“You’re not the only one…” she tells me with a small smirk and I chuckle. 

“Ok. No more dilly-dallying, you two. Come on, we’ve got lots more work to do,” Susan speaks up from behind me, making me turn to look at her and she’s smiling with her hands on her hips. 

“Well? Are you ready to get up?” I ask y/n with a raised eyebrow and she nods. 

“Good. Here, I’ll help you,” I comment as I start to stand up, pulling her with me lightly. 

~Time Skip~

We all helped the casualties for about an hour, and by the time we’re done, everyone seems dead on their feet. Once all our casualties are up and moving around with the exception of quite a few that we couldn’t help, we all decide to eat. After a satisfying meal, the sun is almost setting and Aslan stands up on the same hill we talked on before the war. 

When I finish eating, I look at my siblings and y/n, who are all laughing at something Edmund had said. I smile softly before getting up from my spot and walking over to Aslan. 

“So what do we do now?” I ask him and he chuckles as he watches over the camp. 

“Now you and your family will be crowned kings and queens. Come morning, we’ll all head east and when we get to Cair Paravel, you will have your coronation,” Aslan explains and I shake my head in disbelief. 

“I still can’t believe this has all happened. It happened so quickly that it feels as if it’s all been a dream,” I tell him and he smiles, amused. 

“I’m sure the others feel the same way,” he tells me as he turns to look at them laughing. 

“Oh, they very likely do. I just feel so…” I pause, trying to think of the word. 

“Mighty…” Aslan fills in for me as if reading my thoughts. I nod before sitting down on the grassy hill to look out over the camp one last time. 

“As you should. Peter, you did what some could never imagine doing,” Aslan starts as he puts a paw on my shoulder. 

“You led an army to victory. That’s one of the most noble, mightiest things that can be done, my boy. Enjoy the peace and happiness that comes after it,” Aslan tells me as he sits beside me and I nod in agreement as I turn to look at my family once again. 

“Thank you for this opportunity,” I tell him as I turn back to look out over the camp and he nods at me. 

“You needed it to learn from. Now, go be with your family. Enjoy the love and joy that is present,” he almost demands and I chuckle, smiling as I get up off the ground to stand. 

“I will. Again, thank you Aslan, thank you so much,” I say and he shakes his head before using his paw to wave me off, making me chuckle. 

I walk back down the hill and over to my family. Lucy comes running up to me and I catch her, picking her up before spinning around. Together we laugh before I set her back down and she grins up at me before turning back around to look at y/n as she too walks up to us. 

“Y/n, can you believe it? We did it! We saved Mr. Tumnus, just like you said we would along with the whole land of Narnia,” Lucy excitedly exclaims as y/n stops next to us with a big smile on her face. 

“That we did, Lu,” y/n agrees with a big smile as she hugs my little sister. 

“I’m just so happy,” Lucy tells us as she pulls back from their hug. 

“I’m glad you're happy, Luc. It’s getting dark though, maybe you should head to bed. Aslan told me we have a long journey in the morning,” I speak up and she playfully pouts. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” Lucy groans playfully, rolling her eyes and y/n giggles. 

“You don’t wanna be knackered tomorrow, do you?” Y/n asks and Lucy puts her hands on her hips. 

“Well, no, but sleep feels so far away right now,” Lucy argues and y/n smiles softly. 

“Well why don’t you just try, ladybug? You might surprise yourself. Maybe you're actually more knackered than you feel,” y/n explains and Lucy takes a moment as if she’s thinking about it. 

“Oh… all right. I assume you’ll be staying with Pete again?” Lucy asks with a raised eyebrow and y/n lets out a loud laugh. 

“Yes. Little firefly, you’d be right,” y/n tells her as she reaches out and pulls her into a hug. 

“Oh, all right. Goodnight then, sleep very well,” Lucy tells her as she pulls away and y/n giggles before reaching forward to mess up Lucy’s hair. 

“You too, ladybug. Don’t let the bedbugs bite you, you hear me?” Y/n jokes softly and Lucy giggles too.  

“I promise,” Lucy nods in affirmation, joking right back. 

“That’s what I like to hear. Rest easy, sweet girl,” y/n tells Lucy as she smiles at her. 

Lucy smiles at y/n one last time before looking up at me. She comes over to me with a playful smile and I let out an “oooff,” as she slams into my stomach, almost knocking me over.

I wrap my arms around her and lift her up. She giggles as she hugs onto me a little tighter. 

“Goodnight, Petey. I love you,” she whispers into my ear and I hug her a little closer to me. 

“Goodnight Luc, I love you too. So much,” I tell my little sister softly and smile as I set her back on the ground. 

“Oh, Susan! You ready for bed?!” Lucy shouts as she turns and runs back over to Susan and Edmund. 

“I suppose I am. Come on, then,” Susan agrees as she gets up from where she’d been sitting. 

“Goodnight, you two. Sleep well,” she shouts over to us and y/n grins. 

“Goodnight, Susan! You too,” y/n tells her before she’s turning, tucking into my side as Susan and Lucy walk off to their tent. 

“You comin’, Ed?” I ask as I look at my younger brother and he nods before getting up. 

We wait for him for a moment before he’s jogging over to us. Once he comes up next to us, we start walking to our tent. Edmund runs ahead of us and disappears into the tent and y/n giggles. 

“I’m glad it all worked out, Pete. We’re all happier than we have been in a long while,” y/n speaks softly as she cuddles into my side as we walk. 

“I am, too. It feels good to all be on the same page with no fights. It’s been a while since we’ve all been happy to just be together,” I agree with her and she stops us from walking. 

“I love you, you know that?” she says as she looks up at me and runs her arms up my chest till they’re around my neck. 

“I do now. I love you, too,” I tell her with a grin as I grab her hips and she smiles softly again. 

I smile back at her before leaning towards her and she reaches up on her toes to lean up to me. I let out a breathy laugh as she gives me a confused look as I put my forehead to hers. 

“Pete! You wanker! You just totally ruined the mood,” she playfully scolds and I laugh again. 

“I’m sorry, love! But you don’t have to reach up to me!” I tell her as I try to hold back my laughter. 

“Pete, I kinda do. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a little shorter than you,” she rolls her eyes and I chuckle again. 

“Well it’s a good thing that I can bend to you. You don’t have to reach up,” I tell her and she slowly grins, shaking her head. 

“And you ruined the moment for that?! You ninny!!” she giggles as she playfully slaps my chest and I chuckle. 

“I’m sorry, love! I couldn’t help it!” I defend myself and she only laughs a little harder. 

“Ok. Ok. Can you kiss me now and not ruin the moment?” she asks as she suddenly sobers up from laughing and grows serious. 

“Oh, of course. I’m so sorry, my Queen,” I playfully tell her with a smirk and she shakes her head at me again. 

Slowly, I lean towards her and soon our lips are touching for the second time today. This one is much different from the first. The first one was a little rushed, but this one is slower, almost like we’re both trying to savor it, and I suppose maybe I am. 

Her lips are still soft and pillowy against mine, making me deepen the kiss ever so slightly. I can feel her smiling as she brings her hands up to my head, but instead of brushing through my hair with her fingers, she grips onto it. The warm feeling from earlier comes back as our noses brush together again. 

“Oi, would you two stop snogging and come to bed already?!” Edmund asks us from the flap of the tent, making us reluctantly pull away from one another, but I keep my forehead to hers. 

“Yeah. Yeah. We’ll be there in a bit,” I reply with a roll of my eyes before looking back at y/n. 

“Better be,” he jokingly pretends to be all authoritative with his arms crossed over his chest. 

He shakes his head in a jokeful disappointment and gives a small ‘tsk, tsk,’ before walking back into the tent. It’s quiet for a moment and I take the opportunity to press my lips back to hers. She pulls away and giggles when my lips chase hers, much like they did earlier. 

“Pete, as much as I am loving this little kiss session, Ed’s right. We should get to bed,” she breathlessly tells me and I can feel it fan over my face. 

I sigh and press my forehead to hers again with a light frown. She smiles at me and my heart flips as I smile back. 

“I could kiss you all day, ya know?” I tell her as I pull back and push a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“And I could kiss you all day too. Although now you can kiss me whenever you want and I promise I’ll always kiss back. But again, Ed’s right, we need to go to sleep,” she tells me as I put my forehead to hers again. She smiles softly as she plays with my hair, making me sigh. 

“Ok. Let’s go…” I hesitantly agree and she laughs. 

“Come on. I’m not leaving your side. I’ll be by you all night,” she tells me as she pulls away and starts to pull me along with her as she walks to the tent. 

She leads me over to the tent and she pulls up the flap before ducking under it. I follow her and once inside, she lets go of my hand for a moment. She walks over to the chest by the privacy screen, smiling softly at Edmund on her way and opens it. 

She pulls out some clothes and goes behind the privacy screen to change. I smile softly and shake my head in disbelief as I start to take off the rest of my armor. 

“It's nice to see you guys finally together,” Edmund speaks up and I turn around to look at him. 

“You think so?” I ask him with an arched eyebrow and he nods. 

“Don’t be such a muppet, Pete. I’ve always known you two were made for each other, even when you yourselves didn’t know. I think everyone with eyes bloody knew, actually,” he tells me with a playful roll of his eyes and I smile softly at him. 

“Thanks. That means a lot, Ed,” I tell him and he nods before turning over. 

“Now enough with the sap. I’m knackered. Sleep well, you two,” he tells us just as y/n walks out from behind the privacy screen with a soft smile. 

“Goodnight, Ed. You sleep well, too,” she tells him as she pulls back the covers of the bed. 

“Well, are you changing or just sleeping in that?” she asks me as she motions to the under clothes from under my armor. 

“I’m too knackered to change. Think I’ll just sleep in this,” I tell her as I crawl into the bed behind her and she smiles, nodding as she cuddles into me. 

“I told you he was a good boy,” she whispers tiredly and I smile softly at her. 

“That you did love. That you did,” I tell her and she just gives a quiet giggle in response. 

“I love you, Pete,” she mutters and I smile again before leaving a soft kiss on her forehead. 

“I love you too, sweetheart,” I parrot her softly right in her ear as I pull her even closer and hold her to me. 

“That tickles, you git,” she tells me though light giggles and I smile a tired smile. 

“Well, get used to it,” I tell her with a tired, but very cheeky smile and she scoffs. 

“Go to sleep you wanker,” she says and I chuckle lightly. 

Slowly, sleep starts to over take me as warmth radiates between us and I fall into a peaceful sleep as I hold her to me. The dream I have is a good one this time, with no signs of the old bad dream I used to have about losing her, but all of a sudden the dream is coming to an end as I am woken up. I blink my eyes open before rubbing at them with my right hand and then letting my eyes adjust to being open again. 

They sting for a moment, so I blink them before looking around in confusion. It’s only then do I realize it’s still dark out and confusion only takes over more. I look over at Ed, but he’s gone from his bed and worry takes over. 

I’m pulled out of my thoughts when there’s a small whimper to my left and I immediately figure out what woke me as y/n’s face contorts. I turn in alarm as I hear the tent flap move, but relax when I see it’s only Edmund. 

“Edmund, you git, where were you?” I ask him in a hushed whisper and he smiles shyly at me. 

“I heard y/n whimpering and knew it’d wake you. I knew you’d take care of her, but I want to help in some way… so I went and got her some water,” he tells me as he holds up a cup and I smile softly at him, my anger melting away. 

“Thank you, Ed. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it,” I tell him and he smiles shyly at me as he shrugs. 

“Peter! No!” Y/n screams out and I quickly turn back to her. 

“Shhh. It’s ok, darling. I’m right here. It’s just a bad dream,” I whisper out as I put my hand on her cheek and rub it softly. 

She starts to cry and I wipe the tears as her eyes slowly open. She looks up at me and I smile down at her as she blinks at me. 

“Peter…? What…? But you were just…” she asks in confusion and I shake my head. 

“I’m ok. I’m right here. It was just a bad, bad dream,” I tell her softly and she hiccups before nodding in realization. 

“It’s always so real…” she whispers out before she starts to sob. 

“Oh, honey. Shh. It’s ok. I’ve got you,” I coo as I pull her head to my shoulder and hold it there. 

“I just want this dream to go away, Pete. I never want it to come to pass. It’s just so scary,” she mutters into my neck and I nod. 

“I know, love. I know how you feel. We can’t know what’ll happen. Until then, let’s just live life together, yeah?” I ask her as I pull her back so I can look at her. 

“Ok… yeah. I think I can do that,” she nods and I smile softly at her. 

“Do you want some water? Edmund has some for you,” I tell her and she looks up at him over my shoulder. 

“Oh gosh. Edmund, I’m so sorry if I woke you,” she immediately apologizes to him and he shakes his head as he puts his hand up in surrender. 

“Don’t be as daft as a bush, y/n. It’s ok. Really. I uhh… understand you now,” Edmund tells her and she smiles sympathetically at him as he takes a step forward to hand her the cup. 

She takes it from him with a soft, thankful smile and he smiles nonchalantly back with a light shrug. I watch her as she takes a drink of it before pulling the cup away from her lips to look at me. 

“He’s really turned around,” she whispers to me as he lays down with his back turned to us. 

“I suppose he has, hasn’t he? Makes me proud,” I tell her and she smiles nodding. 

“I know he fights you a lot, can be a bit of a ninny sometimes, but he really does just need your love and support,” she tells me before going back to drink a little more and I purse my lips. 

“Yeah. I see it now. I’m sorry I haven’t. You’ve been trying to tell me and I wasn’t listening when I should have. I’ve been a real tosser, haven’t I?” I apologize with a small frown and she leans over to put the cup on the small table to her left. 

“Oh, the biggest…” she jokes with a playful roll of her eyes before becoming serious again. 

“No, you really haven’t. It’s ok, Pete. It’s what pride does. I’m just glad you're listening now. He needs his big brother. Where you had your father, he doesn’t,” she tells me softly as she reaches up to my cheek and strokes it softly. 

“I know. I just want him to be better than me. I know he can be, so I push hard especially when I don’t need to,” I try to explain as I burrow my cheek a little into her hand, making her smile a knowing smile. 

“And he will be. He’s just like you, a little too headstrong for his own good, but it’s a really good quality, Pete. He’ll figure it out, just give him the guidance he needs,” she encourages me and I close my eyes as I let out a light chuckle. 

“Aslan was right. You are my voice of reason and you always have been,” I observe as I put my forehead to hers again. 

“And I always will be, Pete, as you are mine,” she says softly and I can’t help but smile, shaking my head. 

“Ok. Think you're ready to sleep again now?” I ask her before leaving a light peck on her lips and she nods slowly as sleep starts to take over again. 

“G’night, Pete. I love you,” she mumbles and I smile as I lay us back down with her cuddling into my side more so than before. 

“Goodnight, my queen. I love you too,” I whisper out as I leave a kiss on her forehead for the second time tonight. 

Once her breath evens out, I turn ever so slightly to look at Edmund, who’s back rises and falls ever so slightly. I smile before turning back around and cuddling in a little closer again. Soon, sleep overtakes me as my eyes close little by little. 

When I wake up again, it’s now morning and I smile down at y/n, who’s still asleep. She shivers ever so slightly and I chuckle quietly before reaching over her to pull the cover farther up her arm. I also pull her closer and make sure the blanket is still tucked under her chin. 

When I’m sure she’s warm enough, I turn my neck to look over at Edmund, who also still sleeps. I smile softly once more before cuddling y/n close as I close my eyes. I drift in and out of sleep for a while before a voice speaks up. 

“Rise and shine, my princess and princes. It is time to prepare to head east towards home,” a faun tells us as she steps into the tent. 

“Very well. Thank you for waking us,” I tell her and she bows slightly before leaving once more. 

We all slowly make work of getting up from bed and getting dressed. Once we're ready, we walk out of our tent just as Susan and Lucy walk out of theirs. When Lucy looks up and sees us, she perks up before running over to y/n. 

“Good morning, y/n. How did you sleep?” Lucy asks as she hugs y/n and looks up at her. 

“I could have slept a little better than I did, but in the end I slept well. How’d you sleep, bug?” Y/n asks her as she strokes her hair lightly before pulling back from the hug. 

“I slept very well,” Lucy tells her with a grin as well as a firm nod. 

“Good. I’m glad you slept well,” y/n replies with a smile. 

“Good morning, y/n, good morning Pete, good morning Ed,” Susan greets us as she now walks up to us. 

“Good morning,” we all chime in. 

“Wow, no ‘is it?’ from you, Edmund?” Susan jokes about how he used to reply with a sarcastic ‘is it?’ Or ‘is it really?’ Instead of an actual good morning, he gives her a snicker. 

“Haha, yeah, yeah. Let’s make fun of Ed, why don’t we?” he sarcastically asks with a roll of his eyes. 

“Pardon me, Your Highnesses, but breakfast is ready. We have your Little Rock set up for you just as we did before,” the same faun that had woken us tells us and we all nod. 

“You may leave and eat your breakfast. I’m sure we know the way ourselves,” I tell the faun and she nods gratefully before bowing. 

“I shall go then, but if you shall need help of any kind just let one of us know,” she tells us as she stands from her bow and we all nod before she turns to start walking away. 

“Wait,” y/n calls out as she reaches for the faun’s arm and gently pulls her so she’s facing her. 

“Yes, your highness?” The faun asks y/n as she looks at her. 

“Where is Oarmia? I haven’t seen her and I’m worried about her,” y/n questions and the faun frowns. 

“Your highness, she’s holed up in her tent. She’s refused to leave,” the faun sadly informs and y/n frowns. 

“Why?” Y/n asks again and the faun sighs. 

“She’s been in there for a while. When we told her about her father, she broke… he was all she had left,” the faun explains and y/n gasps. 

“Take me to her,” y/n tells the faun, who now looks shocked. 

“But your highness, your food?” she asks and y/n waves her hand in dismissal. 

“My food can wait. My friend is hurting. I wish to comfort her,” y/n tells her and I’m in awe of her sweet self as the faun nods before y/n turns to me. 

“I’ll be there in a minute, ok?” she tells me and I nod, giving her a small smile. 

“You go. I’ll make sure Ed doesn’t eat all your food,” I joke and Ed shouts out a ‘hey!’ as y/n giggles. 

“Ok. Thank you. I love you,” she tells me and I nod at her. 

“I love you too,” I tell her softly before she walks off with the faun, who leads her to Oarmia’s tent. 

For a moment, we all watch until y/n and the faun disappears around a corner. I turn to the others and start to push them lightly the way we have to go for breakfast. 

“Come on, guys. Let’s go eat, y/n’ll catch up to us when she can,” I tell them as I beckon them over to our rock. 

Once at the rock, we each sit down and start to eat. About halfway through eating, y/n shows up at our little table. 

“How is she?” Lucy asks and y/n frowns. 

“She’s not doing so well. It’s understandable, really, she lost the only family she had left, but I wish I could help her in some way,” y/n tells us as she sits down next to me and I put an arm around her. 

“I’m sure you just being there and listening to her helps, love,” I inform her before leaving a kiss on her cheek. 

“For once I actually agree with Peter. Just be there for her and let her know you understand her pain,” Edmund tells her before he takes a bite of his last bit of bread. 

“I guess you guys are right. It’s just so sad to see how heartbroken she is. She does have a brother, but she doesn’t even know where he is right now. She wants to find him, but is scared to because she only knows so much of him. He left home when she was only eight to learn his fathers triad,” y/n explains and Edmund smiles a little bit. 

“See, she’s already opened up to you. All you can do now is be there for her,” Edmund tells her and she nods, smiling softly at him. 

“Yeah. It’s not that hard, y/n. Look at how we’ve been by your side,” Lucy adds on and y/n smiles even more. 

“You’re so very right, Lu, you all were there when I thought I had nobody else. Thank you, all of you. Truly, I love you guys like my own family,” she tells us and we all grin at her. 

“You are family, y/n. Always have been and always will be,” Susan chimes in and y/n smiles. 

“You're all right. I’ll just be her shoulder as well as help her look for her brother shall she want to,” y/n tells us with a huge smile. 

“Very well, that can wait for now though. Eat, we have a long journey in a few hours. You should have some food in your stomach,” I practically command y/n to eat and it pulls a giggle out of her. 

“Ever the one to take care of me. Thank you, Pete,” she tells me before leaning over and leaving a kiss on my cheek. 

“Of course I’ll take care of you. I’d take care of all of you in a heartbeat, love,” I reply and she nods, smiling. 

“We all know you would,” she promises me softly before starting to eat. 

Soon we all finish eating and stand up. Together alongside all the narnians, we help start packing up. Once everything is packed and ready for the journey ahead, we all start to head out of where camp once was. 

To Be Continued…

If your user has a strike though and bolded it means we were unable to tag you and we are terribly sorry, maybe check in the list that it is right. 

Tag List: Add Yourself Here

@chickensrule @itscheybaby @crimesolvin @shadow-of-a-cloud @olivia-zaq @werewolfbansheelove @victoriajelmore

@iheartpeterpevensie

[im-a-wonderling]

You Can Too ~ Peter Pevensie

This was originally the epilogue for Bruises, but I realized it could stand on it’s own, so I edited it to make sure you can read it without reading Bruises!

Warnings: angst

Word count: 2.9k

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The ice coating the columns slowly melted, the droplets of water hitting the stone floor. The puddle of water spread towards the bodies of the wolf and the hag laying haphazardly to the side. They were dead, the men knew that for a fact, but the strange flickering shadows from the torches gave the impression that they were moving. 

The two brothers sat on the edge of the stone table. 

Edmund stared unblinkingly at the carving of Aslan, but Peter’s eyes were fixed on the witch’s scepter in the center of the rapidly melting ice.

The Just king broke the silence first. “Caspian should be back soon with Doctor Cornelius. He’ll tell us what to do with the scepter.”

Peter didn’t reply, and Edmund swiveled to look at him, taking note of his dull expression and faraway eyes.”

“You hesitated,” Edmund said. “When the witch asked for your blood, you didn’t say no or run her through. You just…stood there.”

There was no answer. 

Edmund shifted so he was facing his brother. “You were thinking of Y/N, weren’t you?” Peter buried his face in his hands, letting out ragged breaths. Edmund let out a heavy sigh, resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I know you miss her.”

A bitter laugh sounded as Peter shrugged out of Edmund’s grasp, getting to his feet. “You don’t understand.” Edmund opened his mouth to say something. “You don’t get it,” Peter repeated flatly.

“What don’t I get?” Edmund asked softly. Peter returned his gaze to the scepter, and Edmund couldn’t help but notice the way his brother’s fingers twitched. “If you don’t talk about it,” Edmund began, making sure to keep his voice soft, “if you bottle it up...it’ll only grow worse.”

Peter pressed the pads of his fingers into his eyes, clearly fighting something, a feeling Edmund knew too well. But Edmund also knew what happened if pain was left to fester. 

“It’s just me, Pete.”

King to king, warrior to warrior, brother to brother. 

Peter put his back to Edmund, as if looking away from Edmund was the only way he could bring himself to speak. “She wanted to wait.”

Edmund didn’t understand, but he kept silent, recognizing that Peter could retract his vulnerability as quickly as he’d given it.

“When she came back to Cair Paravel, she told me she loved me, but we had to take it slow.” The high king’s words were starting to pour from him now. “I agreed, of course I did. She had her magic back, and we hadn’t even seen each other in a year, and I mean, waiting wasn’t going to change anything, so what could possibly go wrong when we had all the time in the–” Peter’s voice broke off, and his ragged intake of air made Edmund’s own chest hurt. 

Peter’s head was hung so low, Edmund could barely see it shake from side to side. When he spoke next, his words were strained, as if they were wrung from him like water from a rag. 

“I had a ring.”

Edmund shut his eyes. He hadn’t known that.

“I had it made before she even left Cair Paravel, and I couldn’t bear to get rid of it. Then she came back, and I was just waiting for her to tell me she was ready to be my-my wife.”

The stammer made Edmund open his eyes.

Peter was staring down at his hand, and Edmund would’ve bet money that he was imagining a ring on his ring finger. 

“I was gonna make her my queen, Ed.” Peter looked up at his brother. “I was going to marry her and then take her to the Lone Islands for our honeymoon. And...and she wanted–” Peter reached out a hand to brace it on the column. “She wanted kids.”

Edmund could practically see the images that flashed through Peter’s mind.

An aisle decorated with white flower petals, a royal fleet with the high king and his new queen on board, and a young girl with her father’s blonde hair running down a castle corridor. 

Images of a life never lived. 

“And then we went hunting for the white stag,” Edmund said. “We went back to England.”

“I thought of her every day,” Peter croaked, his voice so quiet that Edmund almost missed it. “I wondered what she was doing here. Maybe when I was doing the dishes in England, she was out on a picnic. When I was writing a letter…perhaps she was taking a nap. When I woke up in the morning, thinking of her, surely she was waking up thinking of me too.”

Edmund wanted to cut in, to assure his brother that Y/N would’ve thought of Peter every day, but he forced himself to be still. Peter didn’t need Edmund thoughts or feelings, he needed Edmund’s ears. 

“I kept praying that when I closed my eyes to sleep at night, we would meet each other in our dreams.” Peter finally faced Edmund again, his jaw set. It was clear from the torment building in Peter’s eyes that those prayers went unanswered. 

“And now we’re back!” Peter said, with a big, sweeping gesture at their surroundings. “Against all odds, Narnia needed us again, and we made it back!” Peter looked away. “We’re here, and she’s not.”

Because it’d been nearly a thousand and three hundred years since they were last in Narnia. 

“You know, I’m younger now than I was when I loved her.” A harsh, hysterical laugh came from the high king. “I’m here, living my life for a second time while she’s been dead for centuries.” A broken, choked sound escaped from Peter. “And now I know that my every second was a week for her and every minute was a month.”

Peter lifted his hands to his hair, gripping it like he wanted to tear it all off in his anguish. “Ed, she died before last summer even ended.”

Edmund swiped at his right eye, trying to pull himself together. “Peter…all the minotaurs, the-the dwarves, the giants, they’re all a part of this army because of Y/N. She’s still here.”

“Don’t feed me platitudes,” Peter snapped. “Don’t tell me that it’s Aslan’s will or that she’s in a better place or that she’s not really gone if we remember her.” He advanced on his brother, fiery anger in his eyes. “All that matters to me is that I can’t see her.” A tear slipped from the outside corner of Peter’s eye, running down his cheek. “I can’t talk to her, I can’t hear her voice, I can’t hug her, I can’t…” A sob escaped Peter. “I can’t…”

He shook his head, angrily rubbing his eyes with his fists. “Her life just flew by. She lived, and I wasn’t there.” He took a shuddering breath. “But even worse, she died, and I didn’t know.” Peter seemed to lose his balance, falling back to sit on the stone table with his head bowed. “I didn’t know,” he repeated numbly.

Edmund had never seen Peter like this. His older brother was a dreamer, a visionary. He always saw the best in people and pushed himself to be better. Now he was sitting there with no hope in his eyes.

The Just king always knew what to say, but he didn’t now.

Peter approached the witch’s wand, which had now fallen crooked as the ice continued to melt. “If the witch could bring her back with–”

“Peter, no.” Edmund was on his feet in a moment, getting in between his brother and the scepter. 

“Why not?!” Peter nearly shouted, eyes blazing. “If she could do it, why can’t we?” Peter took a step towards the wand. 

Edmund quickly stepped in his brother’s way. “We don’t know that she was telling the truth. She was going to say anything to make us bring her back.”

The look in Peter’s eye was wild. “She kept Narnia in winter for a hundred years, she turned people to stone, she created food and drink out of nothing, all with magic!”

“She was evil!” Edmund cried. He reached out a warning hand, trying to keep his brother away from the scepter. “Peter, it’s not worth it!”

“Y/N is worth everything!” Peter snarled, shoving his brother’s shoulders.

“Yes, she is!” Edmund shouted, pushing Peter back. “And she wouldn’t want you to do this!” Peter fell back a step, and Edmund seized the chance. “She wouldn’t want you to dabble in evil magic to get her back!”

Peter stilled.

Edmund hit a nerve. 

“Y/N knew magic, and she respected the Deep Magic, she respected Aslan’s plan.” Edmund brushed the sweat from his forehead. “She loved you, Pete, more than anything, but she wouldn’t want this.”

Peter’s eyes slid from Edmund to the scepter behind him and then back to Edmund.

Edmund waited, what for, he didn’t know. It was entirely possible that Peter would concede to Edmund’s point, but it was also possible that he would make a mad dash for the scepter. 

“Hey guys–” 

Both brothers turned to see Caspian, who halted in the entrance, nearly causing Doctor Cornelius to run into him. Caspian’s eyes darted between the two, obviously sensing the tension. “What’s going on?” Caspian asked. 

The brothers exchanged a look. 

“Nothing,” Peter replied, moving to sit on the stone table again. 

Edmund remained on his feet. “Doctor Cornelius?”

“Yes, my king?” the professor answered. 

“Is the witch’s wand safe to touch?”

Doctor Cornelius didn’t reply right away, his eyes resting on the high king. “We need to shatter it and bury the pieces.” 

None of them missed the way Peter’s shoulders tensed.

“The farther apart they are, the harder it will be for anyone to ever reassemble it.”

Caspian and Doctor Cornelius couldn’t see the war taking place on Peter’s face, but Edmund could. 

"Pete,” he said softly. “It’s too dangerous to leave it together.”

Peter lifted his eyes to Edmund, and Edmund knew Peter wouldn’t ever allow the wand to be broken. In Peter’s eyes, to strike at the scepter was to strike down Y/N. 

“Doctor Cornelius,” Edmund said suddenly, not looking away from his brother. 

“Yes, your majesty?”

“You’ve studied Narnian history, right?”

Doctor Cornelius scrunched up his nose in confusion. “Yes, your majesty.”

Edmund flicked his eyes over in the professor’s direction. “Tell me what you know about Y/N.” 

Peter’s jaw went slack as he blinked at his brother’s low blow. 

“Ahhhh,” Doctor Cornelius said softly, and Edmund knew the situation had dawned on the professor. “Y/N the Lionhearted.”

With those three words, Peter rose to his feet, turning away from the scepter to face the professor.

Doctor Cornelius looked calmly back at the high king. “Legend says when your majesties disappeared, Narnia wanted to make Y/N queen.”

Peter's chest stopped moving as he hung on the professor's every word. "She was queen?" 

Doctor Cornelius shook his head. “Y/N refused the title. She said that she was never meant to be queen if she wasn’t a queen beside her king.”

Peter’s body recoiled as if he’d been punched in the gut. The sharp sound of him sucking in a breath echoed through the chamber as he blindly reached out for something to support him. His hands landed on the stone table.

“She took the title of regent, and she turned down every marriage proposal she received, including, as I understand it, a proposal from a prince of Archenland.”

Edmund couldn't tell if his brother was gladdened or saddened to hear the news, for his brother's face was turned toward the floor.

“There’s a story that Y/N was walking through a market in Tashbaan when she saw a man beating a child, a slave. They say she ran in between them, taking a strike herself to protect the boy.”

The high king’s grip on the stone increased, his knuckles whitening. Edmund knew that Peter wanted nothing more than to climb into the past and take the strike for Y/N.

“When the man got angry, she paid him and whisked the boy away, raising him as her own from that day on.”

Edmund shook his head softly. He and Peter should've known that if she truly desired to raise a child, she would find a way, even if she never married.

Doctor Cornelius glanced at Caspian. “Once the boy had grown into a man, she stepped down, letting him become the next regent of Narnia.”

The high king let out a shuddering breath, the force of it causing his whole body to tremble as he looked up. “Was she happy?” 

Doctor Cornelius adjusted his glasses. “Alas, history rarely documents personal happiness, but Narnia thrived under her care and under her son’s.”

Peter shut his eyes, looking pained by the word. “How did she die?” he asked, his voice thick.

If Doctor Cornelius saw the tears shining in Peter’s eyes, he didn’t comment. “No one knows. One day when she was on Doorn, she went for a walk on the beach and never came back.”

Peter’s eyes snapped open. “Doorn?” he breathed. “She…she went to the Lone Islands?”

The doctor nodded. “Once she stepped down, she went to the Islands and lived there. Everyone there still deferred to her, even if she wasn’t the regent proper. She was fair and tolerated no cruelty. By all accounts, she was much beloved.”

Peter's knees gave out, and he sank to the floor. “She went to the Lone Islands,” he said in a gasp, his eyes still focused on the doctor. “She actually…she actually went.”

Caspian, Edmund, and Doctor all exchanged a look, all recognizing the force of the emotion radiating from the king. 

“Peter?” Caspian asked tentatively. “Are you okay?”

Peter’s breathing was far too quick. He lifted a fist and hit it against the stone table, clearing trying to rein in his emotion.

“Y/N saved Narnia,” Edmund said, his voice soft. “Just like we did. Just like we have to do again. We’re here to save Narnia, remember?” Edmund dared to rest a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Y/N lived a good life, Peter, just like you will.” Peter shook his head, still battling even when he was robbed of his voice.

“She managed to live, and she lived for you.” Edmund took a breath. “If she can do it, you can too.”

Peter’s shoulders started to shake.

Edmund opened his mouth to say more, but Doctor Cornelius held up his hand, stopping him in his tracks. The wisdom in the professor’s face was enough to make Edmund pause.

A tense silence fell.

The three men exchanged looks. How long should they wait? Should they say more? Did Peter need more convincing?

And then all the questions were put to rest, as the strained sounds of gasping came from the high king. The breaths rattled in the gaping hole of his brother's chest, the place where his heart used to be. Now, it had broken and scattered.

It didn't matter if the witch's wand was shattered and buried far and wide across Narnia, for Peter's heart was already burrowed deep in the land.

Y/N's land.

The sight of his brother shedding tears from his position on the floor, upright only because of the support of the stone table, was enough to wrench any man's heart from his chest.

Edmund knew Peter loved Y/N, and Edmund himself had loved Y/N like a sister.

But this? To see the love on the other side?

It was too much for Edmund to bear. To see his big brother like this, it was something he'd never imagined and something he knew he would never be able to forget.

Had Narnia mourned like this for it's missing monarchs? Is this what Y/N had done when he and his siblings had passed through the wardrobe? When Y/N assumed that Peter was dead, had she collapsed to the floor and lamented over her departed love?

Peter pressed his hands into his face, muffling his sobs.

Edmund dared a glance at the witch's wand.

Could...could it truly bring Y/N back? Was the witch telling the truth? Would using it be so terrible if it healed his broken brother?

"Your majesty?" Doctor Cornelius asked, and Edmund turned to see that the professor looked not at Peter, but at Edmund. His gentle, yet probing eyes reminded Edmund of Aslan's, and a wave of shame swept through him. He knew better, and he still fell for the temptation.

Edmund stepped forward, placing a hand on his brother's sagging shoulder. Peter’s bursting breaths gradually slowed as he seemed to grasp control of his agony. "Pete," Edmund said softly, "what do you want to do with the scepter?"

For a moment, there was no reply.

Then, Edmund felt the muscles in Peter's shoulder shift, and he glanced down just in time to see Peter's fingers grasp his sword.

Next thing Edmund knew, Peter was on his feet and turning in Edmund's direction. Instinctually, Edmund stepped away, a momentary terror flying into his throat.

But Peter brushed past Edmund, and with a great bellow, he brought his word down on the scepter. 

The blinding blue light made Edmund shut his eyes, and the horrible shattering sounded so similar to the witch’s screams, it made Edmund's head spin.

When Edmund opened his eyes, he saw his brother, collapsed on the floor, sobbing once again over the broken pieces of the witch’s scepter.

The way to Y/N was well and truly gone.

Peter had chosen strength, but it was at the cost of his heart.

And as Edmund watched his brother's love spill over in the form of tears, he wasn't sure his brother would ever recover.

-

I know, I’m terrible, I’m so sorry, but this idea wouldn’t leave me alone. 😫

If you enjoyed, buy me a coffee and/or check out my masterlist for more writing!

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

Bruises tag list:

@itsnottilly @sadgirlnumber92899 @sunny-theartist @fortheloveofaqueenfan @emala @leafsmindpalace @thepolywrites @janesofia7 @sunshine-and-riverwater @fluffy-canada-pancakes @rebel4fandom @the-internet-ruined-me @happyvitamin @idk-whatamidoinglmao @jakeshuneybby @idk-whatamidoinglmao @multifandomrandomgirl @felicityroth @lover4jane @psycho-magnotheric-slime

[eds-gryff]

Wishbone

But I can’t look at him,

can hardly speak,

I took the bullet

for all the wrong reasons,

I’d just as soon kill you myself,

I say.

(Wishbone by Richard Siken)

-

Richard Siken quotes are so fucking perfect for Caspeter, I can’t even.

-

[animusrox]

TOP 10

Past Lives

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

How to Blow Up a Pipeline

Poor Things

Oppenheimer

Barbie

BlackBerry

The Holdovers

The Iron Claw

Killers of the Flower Moon

MY LETTERBOXD Grade A 11.    The Killer 12.    Beau Is Afraid 13.    Dream Scenario 14.    Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 15.    Godzilla Minus One 16.    American Fiction 17.    They Cloned Tyrone 18.     Evil Dead Rise 19.    Eileen 20.    The Artifice Girl 21.   Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem 22.    Talk to Me 23.    Reality 24.    Leave the World Behind 25.    A Thousand and One 26.    Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One 27.    Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. 28.    Theater Camp 29.   Carmen 30.    Merry Little Batman 31.    Priscilla 32.    Society of the Snow 33.    Infinity Pool 34.    Enys Men 35.    Sanctuary 36.    Rye Lane 37.    Skinamarink 38.    Monster 39.    Anatomy of a Fall 40.    Landscape with Invisible Hand 41.    Reptile 42.    Sisu 43.    Pinball: The Man Who Saved the Game 44.    No One Will Save You 45.    Tetris 46.    May December 47.    The Zone of Interest 48.    V/H/S/85 49.    Dumb Money 50.    El Conde 51.    Arnold 52.    Maestro 53.    Napoleon 54.    20 Days in Mariupol 55.    Influencer 56.    The Creator 57.    Origin 58.    Thanksgiving 59.    Next Goal Wins 60.    The Boy and the Heron 61.    Bottoms 62.    Wonka

[Press Keep Reading For The Full Graded List]

Grade B

63.   God Is a Bullet 64.    No Hard Feelings 65.    Joy Ride 66.    Fair Play 67.     Cocaine Bear 68.    NYAD 69.    Asteroid City 70.    Nowhere 71.    The Angry Black Girl and Her Monster 72.    Divinity 73.    The Equalizer 3 74.    The Last Voyage of the Demeter 75.    Venus 76.    Butcher’s Crossing 77.    Somewhere in Queens 78.    The Persian Version 79.    Boston Strangler 80.    Polite Society 81.    Miguel Wants to Fight 82.    The Color Purple 83.    The Royal Hotel 84.    Saw X 85.    All of Us Strangers 86.    Fallen Leaves 87.    Ferrari 88.    Elemental 89.    Peter Pan & Wendy 90.    Renfield 91.    Cat Person 92.    Scream VI 93.    The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes 94.    BS High 95.    Blue Beetle 96.    Huesera: The Bone Woman 97.    When Evil Lurks 98.    Dark Harvest 99.    A Good Person 100.    Final Cut 101.    Knock at the Cabin 102.    Quiz Lady 103.    Leo 104.    Air 105.    The Super Mario Bros. Movie 106.    Batman: The Doom That Came to Gotham 107.    John Wick: Chapter 4 108.    Beaten to Death 109.    The Wrath of Becky 110.    Passages 111.    Transformers: Rise of the Beasts 112.    Gran Turismo 113.    65 114.    Sick 115.    Sister Death 116.    The Blackening 117.    Please Don’t Destroy: The Treasure of Foggy Mountain 118.    Flamin’ Hot 119.    Nimona 120.    Cobweb 121.    Totally Killer 122.    What’s Love Got to Do with It? 123.     Sharper 124.    Unseen 125.    Dunki 126.    Bird Box Barcelona 127.    The Marvels 128.    Shazam! Fury of the Gods

Grade C

129.   Wildflower 130.    Freelance 131.    M3GAN 132.    Strays 133.    Sympathy for the Devil 134.    Creed III 135.    Chevalier 136.    The Marsh King’s Daughter 137.    A Haunting in Venice 138.    The Little Mermaid 139.    Silent Night 140.    Master Gardener 141.    The Flash 142.    Fast X 143.    The Pope’s Exorcist 144.    Saltburn 145.    Kandahar 146.    Stand 147.    Plane 148.   Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny 149.    Fingernails 150.    Quicksand 151.    Fool’s Paradise 152.    Migration 153.    Rustin 154.    The Covenant 155.    Good Burger 2 156.    The Pod Generation 157.    Alice, Darling 158.    Insidious: The Red Door 159.    Missing 160.    Shotgun Wedding 161.    You Hurt My Feelings 162.    The Boogeyman 163.    Showing Up 164.    Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom 165.    Champions 166.    Consecration 167.    The Nun II 168.    Biosphere 169.    House Party 170.    The Exorcist: Believer 171.    Big George Foreman 172.    Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves 173.    Children of the Corn 174.    The Beanie Bubble 175.    Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania

Grade F

176.    Anyone But You 177.    Marlowe 178.    Paint 179.    Extraction 2 180.    It Lives Inside 181.    Deliver Us 182.    Trolls Band Together 183.    Finestkind 184.    Corner Office 185.    Wish 186.    Prisoner’s Daughter 187.    Pain Hustlers 188.    Foe 189.    The Mother 190.    Old Dads 191.    Ghosted 192.    Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken 193.    Haunted Mansion 194.    Mafia Mamma 195.    Five Nights at Freddy’s 196.    The Machine 197.    Justice League: Warworld 198.    We Have a Ghost 199.    What Comes Around 200.    Legion of Super-Heroes 201.    The Boys in the Boat 202.    Attachment 203.    Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre 204.    About My Father 205.    You People 206.    Meg 2: The Trench 207.    Pathaan 208.    Rebel Moon - Part One: A Child of Fire 209.    Assassin 210.    Dalíland 211.    Vacation Friends 2

Bottom 10

212.    Sound of Freedom 213.    Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey 214.    When You Finish Saving The World 215.    Heart of Stone 216.    Family Switch 217.    Expend4bles 218.    Sweetwater 219.    Hypnotic 220.    80 for Brady 221.    Spinning Gold

[queenlucythevaliant]

clean your sword

i. Peter had thought many times about dying for his brother, killing for his sisters, as all oldest children do.

ii. He'd imagined it a hundred times: how if his mother and father were ever killed, he'd get some low-skill job and make sure Lucy's clothes still fit her as she grew. How he'd make fists and fight dirty if Susan was ever threatened. What he'd do if Edmund ever had to flee the country on a dark, windswept night.

iii. Yet when he heard Susan's horn that day, he still froze. Only for an instant, he thought, "this can't be my job, right?"

iv. The blood on his sword shone red when it was all over. When he wiped it on the grass, the stain it left was almost black.

v. They'd put Susan in his arms when he was two years old. Peter didn't remember it, but he knew he'd been waiting for her till then. He wasn't a real person until he was a brother.

vi. And when they walked back to the pavilion, Rhindon bumping Peter's hip, all he could say to his sisters was, "I'm sorry I didn't come faster."

vii. The High King was almost obsessive in the way he cared for Rhindon. When he grew older and required weapons larger than those made for a child, he obsessed over them too.

viii. He told the others, in no uncertain terms, that if it ever came to it in battle, they were to leave him and live. As their brother and high king, he commanded it.

ix. The first time Edmund risked himself for Peter's sake, Peter didn't speak to him for a week.

x. He was oiling his sword when Edmund found him. "See, the thing is, Peter, being brothers goes both ways. If you can love me enough to die for me, than I get to love you just the same."

xi. Peter agreed with him then, to avoid the argument. He was sick of not talking to his brother. Yet privately, he knew that Edmund was wrong. That sacrifice was Peter's special prerogative, as the first-born.

xii. Back in England, his mother noticed that Peter had become more fastidious. She didn't notice that his protective streak has grown - and maybe it hadn't, really.

xiii. It was uncanny, how Peter would always show up just when his siblings needed him. He'd round a corner, and there was Lucy stamping her feet and scowling at a bully. There was Susan, crying, and now his knuckles were bloody.

xiv. He cleaned the blood off in the sink so carefully. The water ran red for a second, and it almost seemed black.

xv. When Caspian asked for the High King's advice, looking so very young, Peter jerked his chin towards the sword a Caspian's hip. "Be ready to use that," he said. "Keep it clean, and close."

xvi. Susan forgot Narnia and she forgot Aslan. Yet selfishly, Peter still hoped that she would never forget how quickly he came when she called.

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *16*

After he got crowned, Danny started to clean up in the Ghost Zone. One thing he found was an empty lair. An elegant room full of books with a fireplace and comfy armchairs. A ghost was tied to this place, but he never saw them. But he still could feel that the lair was tied to someone, what meant that the ghost didn't end to exist.

It took some time, but Danny was able to follow the bond from the lair to the ghost. He found himself back in the mortal realm and his first thought was that the ghost got somehow stuck here.

So the plan was to find him and bring him back to the zone. Except as soon as Danny made the plan, he should have known that nothing ever goes according to plan for him.

The bond lead him to a young man with black hair that had a white stripe in it. And the man was very much alive, but also didn't seem to be possessed. But he also absolutely felt like the lair.

Invisible Danny followed the guy around and he found out quite a few things.

His name was Jason Peter Todd.

He lives in Gotham.

He is the vigilante/crime lord Red Hood.

He came back from the dead as a revenant.

He got dipped into some corrupted ectoplasm.

He had sever anger issues because of that.

So... Danny made another plan. Jazz had told him about emotional support dogs, because she liked to work with them. And Danny was pretty sure that it shouldn't be to hard to train a ghost dog to do all of this.

It was a nightmare to train Cujo, but after almost six month he was positive that it would work. He took Cujo with him to Gotham and waited till he had a moment where he got Red Hood alone.

The first thing that happened after he made himself visible but not tangible, was that Hood shot him. Like, rude. But because of that he was here.

"Hello. My name is High King Phantom of the Infinite Realms and I am here to give you your prescribed emotional support ghost Dog. His name is Cujo!"

[pink-princess-pussy-pop]

Making Up For Lost Time - Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Based on the following two requests:

can we get an enemies to lovers with edmund that has smut in it??

PLEASEE an edmund smut,, preferably something with a risk of getting caught? or not bb i don’t mind- but a lot of dirty talking too 🤭

It's not necessarily enemies to lovers? But I really hope you enjoy it, this is probably my favorite thing I've written thus far.

Summary: You and Edmund are definitely feeling the effects of your arranged marriage.

Warnings: Language, Smut, not proofed!

Female reader

You couldn't take much more of him, nor him you. The both of you knew why the marriage had to happen, Narnia couldn't risk another war, and Calormen was losing resources due to the Great Desert. As a compromise, Peter, Caspian, and Susan met with Prince Rabadash to secure a compromise. A truce between the kingdoms and a new way for the resources to be traded was sealed with the promise of a marriage between you and Edmund.

And neither of you was happy with it.

It didn't help that you had shared chambers either. You and Edmund had asked The High Kings and Queen about a switch in rooms but they only pushed further.

"Imagine what the people would think if the newlyweds weren't sharing a room?" So you were forced to live with him. Fall asleep next to him each night, and wake by his side every morning.

Granted, Edmund wasn't intolerable. He just wasn't tolerable either. He was a handsome man, sure, but that face also came with his quick wit and sharp tongue, two things you'd grown to loathe.

He'd challenge you, yes. But his tone of speech was never rude or condescending. But the biggest thing you hated about him, he was always so charming. So sweet. So fair.

He didn't earn the title of The Just King for nothing. But it just added fuel to the fire.

He'd always let you use the bath chambers first, and never complained or protested when you took longer baths.

He didn't pressure you to do anything on your wedding night. He simply kept to himself, offering you a smile and a "goodnight" from his side of the bed. You had been told what was to come, your mind was full of stories from other women in your life. Horror stories.

"It is ever so painful."

"Not pleasurable at all!"

"I can hardly wait until it's over!"

Needless to say, when your new husband had simply wished you a good night and went to sleep, you were surprised. The next morning you woke by his side, finding it odd that he had barely moved an inch. You were basically in the middle of the large bed, Edmund sleeping soundly on the edge, right where he was the night before. You were gone before he'd woken up.

Edmund never failed to greet you kindly, entering the room quietly just in case you had decided to take a nap. He never raised his voice to you either.

Was he snarky and sassy? Of course. But he had always treated you and your family with kindness and respect. It was insufferable. Sometimes you wished he'd just be rude so you would have a real reason to hate him, aside from the fact that he was your husband but you never seemed to communicate. You had gotten used to the fact that there would never be any sort of friendship, let alone a relationship, between you and Edmund, so you resorted to hating him.

The only time he'd gotten angry with you was when you hadn't returned to the bedroom one evening. Unbeknownst to you, he began searching frantically for you, creating quite a stir in the grand castle, only to find you asleep in the library. He cursed to himself before picking your sleeping form up in his arms and bringing you back to your room.

You woke up that morning in bed, confused at first about your location, but relaxing when you saw Edmund's sleeping form next to you.

As you rolled out of bed and made your way to the bathroom you heard his voice.

"Don't do that again." You froze, turning around. His dark eyes were on yours and he was very much not asleep.

"Do what?" He sat up, giving you a view of his very shirtless torso. You averted your eyes immediately.

"Not come back." Your confusion brought your eyes to him again. His lanky, but well-built frame, was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

"What?" He rose from the bed, a hand running through his dark hair. You stare at him while he walks toward you, stopping less than a foot away from you.

"You didn't come back last night. Don't do that again." He brushed your cheek with his hand, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss there too. You could feel your cheeks heating at the proximity. The last time he'd been this close to you was your wedding. He hadn't touched you since then either.

He pulled away quickly, stepping around you.

"Did you bring me back?" You turned your head to face him.

"Yes."

...

That night, there was a ball between the great nations. Narnia was the gracious host to Archenland, the Conglomeration of Nations, Ettinsmoor, and of course, Calormen.

You hadn't seen Edmund since the morning. You had been whisked away by maids to get ready for the celebration. The ball was for you and Edmund, another party after the wedding you guessed.

You were dressed in a gorgeous light blue gown with intricate white floral stitching and lace along the neckline. It was gorgeous. The long sleeves were fitted and the back laced up like a corset. Your hair had been fixed down with small braids throughout as to not disrupt the crown you'd also be adorning for the evening.

Then, you were whisked away to the celebration, the guests awaiting the arrival of the newlyweds. Edmund was waiting in the corridor, dressed in the same light blue as you, his silver crown on top of his head. He looked very handsome, more so than usual, and suddenly your thoughts were filled with images of you and Edmund dancing together, of Edmund touching you, his large hand on your waist, maybe even his lips on yours.

"M'Lady?"

You blinked, eyes meeting his. What had he just called you?

"Y-yes?"

"I said are you ready to go in?" Your cheeks heated once again and you nodded, looking away from him. He chuckled and then he laced his fingers through yours, effectively making your heart stop.

...

As soon as your introductions were over, you slipped away from Edmund's side. The thoughts kept popping up in your brain. Why did you keep thinking these thoughts? Edmund didn't want to marry you, let alone consummate the marriage, so why did your brain keep doing this? You hid yourself well by the banquet table, keeping away from the crowds.

"Queen Y/N?" You turned at the use of your title, looking at the sheer opposite of your husband. A man with blonde hair and blue eyes was staring at you with a dazzling smile. You found yourself preferring Edmund's dark hair, brown eyes, and ever-present smirk.

"Hello..."

"I am Prince Cor of Archenland. It is very nice to meet you, M'Lady."

You had to stop yourself from reacting to the name Edmund had called you only an hour before. You'd much preferred it coming from his mouth than Prince Cor. Oh now you'd done it. This poor Prince was trying to make small talk with you and now you were thinking about your husband's mouth? The blush creeping over your cheeks and shoulders was enough for you to shake yourself out of your thoughts.

"It is nice to meet you too, your Highness."

As you and Cor began to make conversation, Edmund's wondering eyes found you. His hand tightened around the goblet he'd been holding and his gaze narrowed.

"Who is that?" He hadn't even noticed he was interrupting his brother.

"Who is who?" Peter replied.

"The bloke flirting with my wife, that's who." Peter held back a laugh.

"Ed, I hardly think Prince Cor would flirt with Y/N, this is your marriage celebration after all. Besides, she wouldn't flirt with someone else so shamelessly."

Edmund wasn't even listening and was halfway across the ballroom before his brother could finish speaking.

"I really do believe that astronomy is one of the most interesting subjects one can learn about-" The Just King interrupted the blonde prince, swiftly interjecting himself into the conversation.

"Hello, My Love." Your face burned at the new name. Then he turned your face to his and kisses your cheek. You could feel your heart in your ears and you looked down, suddenly interested in the floor. "May I ask what you and Prince Cor are talking about?" The blonde man looked uncomfortable.

"We were speaking-"

"I believe I asked my wife, not you." Cor lowered his head in a nod in return, quickly and quietly exiting the conversation. If looks could kill, Prince Cor would have been dead on the ballroom floor in mere seconds from Edmund's piercing glare.

You began to slip away from your husband before his strong hand wrapped around your arm and gently tugged you back. His front was lightly pressed against your back, his head lowered so he could speak into your ear.

"And where do you think you're going?" His voice sent shivers down your spine. His hand trailed up your arm, resting where your shoulder meets your collar bone, visible from the Sabrina neckline of your dress. "Are you trying to make me jealous?"

What? Were you dreaming?

"Because it's working, darling."

Edmund's hand grasps yours again and he begins to lead you out of the room, desperate to get you alone. It isn't until you are outside of the boisterous party that you speak.

"Where are we going?" Edmund stops to look around, before ushering you into a corridor adjacent to the party. "Edmund!"

"Shh!" His hand covers your mouth and he presses his front to yours, making sure you are silent and unseen as guests walk past the hall. He looks at you and almost melts at the beautiful, wide eyes looking up at him. He removes his hand from your mouth, placing it on the wall by your head. You don't even register that the other is on your waist.

You speak gently, making sure your voice is hushed.

"Edmund, why are you jealous?" Your husband takes a deep breath before glancing down the hallway. "Ed?" Your hand timidly reaches up to bring his face back to yours and his eyes widen at the contact.

"You were talking to another man. At the celebration of our wedding."

You had to stifle your shock.

"Edmund, you are my husband, you have no reason to be jealous of a prince from a neighboring kingdom." His lips quirk up a bit.

"How can I not be when you are showing more interest in anyone else but me? I am your husband and you are my wife. I should be by your side tonight." His words are so surprising and you are glad for the wall behind you, and the man in front of you, for the extra support to stand.

"I thought you would want your space."

"Why in Aslan's name would you think that?" You look at him again, taking him in completely, the way he looks in the blue fabric, his dark hair framing his face with that godforsaken crown making him look better than he had a few hours ago. "Y/N, why do you think I wouldn't want to be near you?" His eyes search yours and you blink away, far too flushed under his heavy gaze.

"You haven't ever wanted to before." The words hit him like bricks.

"What?"

The words begin to spill out before you can stop them.

"You always sleep on your side with your back to me, you are always gone when I wake up, I never see you except when you come to get ready for bed, and on our wedding night you didn't..." You push through the embarrassment. "You didn't even touch me. I know this marriage isn't what we had wanted but I thought that maybe we might have been friends-" Edmund cuts off your monologue with a kiss. Your first kiss since your wedding night.

His hand moves from the wall to your neck and the other pulls you to his body, needing to get closer to you.

Your body reacts immediately, melting into the kiss, hands resting on his waist.

It ends too soon, Edmund pulling away first, putting his hand back on the wall while he catches his breath, but the other remained on your waist.

"You think I don't want to be near you?" He stares at you with an incredulous look on his handsome face. The closeness of his face to yours is enough to make you blush, again. "Darling, I haven't..." He takes a moment to breathe, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "I didn't touch you that night because I didn't want to hurt you. I'm so bloody drawn to you that I have to sleep on the opposite side of the bed turned away from you so I don't taint your virtue. I leave in the morning because-"

Your hand covers his mouth as another rowdy group of guests wanders by the corridor. You wait for them to leave before speaking again, keeping your hand plastered onto his face.

"So, you don't hate me?"

He shakes his head.

No.

"You never did?"

No.

You remove your hand from his mouth and the two of you just stare at each other. Unmoving. It feels like minutes pass before he covers your mouth with his again.

His hand returns to your neck, pulling you to him once more.

"I'm sorry I ever made you think I didn't want you. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and I am the luckiest man alive to have you as my wife."

"Edmund..." The kind words hit you straight in the heart.

"And now, it seems I have something I have to make up for." His smirk appears and it sends your insides to mush.

"But Edmund I-"

"Shhhh." He smiles, his head dipping to yours. "Don't want to get caught, now do we?" He kisses you again, this one full of heat and passion, the lack of contact between you only adding fuel to the fire.,

Edmund pulls your body flush against his and groans into your mouth. You falter at the glorious sound but he is there to support you

His kisses travel down your neck to your collarbones.

"Edmund... What are you doing?"

"Making up for lost time, darling." He grins at you again. "Now be quiet." He kisses you again, his sneaky hands running down your sides to your skirt. He breaks the kiss to look down, his hands pulling the fabric up to your waist.

"Fuck." Your eyes went wide. You'd never heard Edmund use that kind of language before. His eyes lock on yours again.

He looks perfect. He's a king. Your king. Your husband.

"Are you ok with this?" You nod yes multiple times, making him smirk yet again, and then you gasp at the contact of his fingers against your womanhood. Your hands grip his shoulders for support, his muscles tensing at the fact that you are touching him. That he is touching you. His fingers find no resistance due to the effects of his words and his ego grows. You bury your face into his shirt when his fingers slip into you. Though foreign, it is an immensely pleasurable feeling and you can't help but want more.

Then he begins to move them. You push further into him to silence your mouth, the feeling far too wonderful to not have a vocal effect.

But then his thumb brushes on something that makes you let out a loud moan. Your face flushes in embarrassment.

"Do you want everyone to know that I'm defiling you in the hallway?"

Oh dear, you're afraid his words combined with whatever he is doing with his fingers are going to kill you.

He repeats the same action but kisses you once more, your moans muffled.

Edmund can tell you are getting close, you've begun to shake, you're gasping into his mouth, and you are practically rutting into his hand. He makes the conscious decision to break the kiss to suck on your neck, covering your mouth with his free hand to silence any escaping sounds. Then, his thumb presses up again and his fingers hook inside of you and you convulse around him.

He is in awe of how gorgeous you are and what he'd just done.

As you catch your breath, your trembling hands find the waistband of his trousers and gently begin unbuttoning them, eager for more. His eyes avert to what you're doing and he curses again. You falter.

"Do-do you want me to stop?" His head shakes back and forth.

"I think I'd die if you did, love."

Edmund begins kissing your neck once again while you free him from the confinement of his tight pants and you gasp. He laughs into your neck, sending goosebumps throughout your entire body.

"Don't get shy on me now, darling. You wanted this, right?" You nod and feel him smile into your skin.

He makes quick work of your undergarments, tossing them to the side, lining himself up with your lower half.

He halts and you look into his eyes, body shaking in need and anticipation for what you had been so scared of on your wedding night.

With your eyes on his, he pushes into you, stopping when you push against him.

"Are you alright?" His voice is next to your ear.

"Just one second." Edmund waits, trying to distract himself from the way your body is clenching around him. Your small voice brings him back to reality. "Edmund."

"Yes?" You notice the rasp in his voice, the strain in his muscles. To ease him, you follow your instincts and roll your hips against his and his hands grip your hips in response, stifling the moan wanting to leave his throat.

"Fuck. Y/N. You can't do that." It's your turn to smirk. You do it again and he presses your body back into the wall. The soft grip on your hips tightens and his eyes meet yours, blown with lust. Then, they narrow at the smirk on your lips. "Oh, so you think that's funny do you?" He begins to slide out of you and your eyes roll backwards. Then he slams back in.

The moan that escapes your lips sets a fire in him and his hand claps back over your mouth.

"How many times do I need to tell you to be quiet?" He begins to move his hips again, the feeling ten times more wonderful than just his fingers. "Is this what you wanted?" You can barely comprehend his hushed words. "Is that why you were flirting with him? To make me jealous so I'd finally touch you?" His free hand worms its way back to the apex of your thighs, finding that place that made you squirm in no time. "You're lucky I love you." You don't even register his words as you come undone.

Edmund follows behind, pushing into you one last time before falling into you. His breathing is labored and the two of you don't speak while you catch your breath.

"Edmund!" Your heads snap toward the sound of Peter yelling his name.

"Dammnit!" He quickly makes himself presentable and you follow suit, making sure your hair isn't wild and your skirts are back in place. He takes your hand, smiling at you, before leading you back out of the hallway.

"Edmund!" Peter's back was to you.

"Peter, stop yelling, I'm right here!" The High King turns around, a glare present on his face.

"Your guests are wondering where the two of you have been! You disappeared thirty minutes ago! Get back inside, now."

Edmund doesn't reply to his bother, opting for an eye roll instead. Then he turns to you offering you a bow.

"Shall we get back to the celebration, my queen?" You giggle.

"Let's."

...

Peter may have overreacted just a bit because the only people wondering where the two of you had gone was him.

Edmund pulled you to the ballroom floor, his arms draped around your waist. You settled yours around his shoulders with a smile. The rest of the party seemed to disappear as he bent down to place a soft kiss against your lips.

You rest your head against his shoulder and whisper into his ear.

"I love you too."

AHHHHH! Y'all I'm really proud of this and hope you enjoy it. :)

[crappymixtape]

come a little closer

REQUEST → dear nonny, SUMMER BLURB PARTY ❝ 💬 prompt 58, “do i make you nervous?” where steve and reader are more acquaintances and have mutual friends? – tina invites you to a party while her parents are out of town, but aren’t you too old for this shit? and then you run into steve and, god you wished you’d said no • +18 ( a little king!steve, a little spice, a little frenemies and a little fluff • steve harrington x reader )

C O M E A L I T T L E C L O S E R 🎶 waiting for a girl like you, foreigner

This was easily the stupidest decision you’d ever made, telling Tina you’d come to her party and then actually showing up. Because you were too old for this shit. Because you’d been out of high school for a few years now and who partied like this anymore?

You shot Eddie and Robin a glare as they stood next to you snickering under their breaths. They’d dragged you along with everyone else to crowd down in the basement and wait outside a closet door to see if Tommy and Carol would ever come out.

Seven minutes in Heaven. The most asinine game of all time, but everyone was eating it up. It’d been well over seven minutes and you were tired of hanging out with a bunch of old high school acquaintances.

“I’m leaving,” you hissed at Eddie and he grabbed at your hand with ringed fingers.

“No, not yet,” came out in a whine, looking down at you with big, brown, puppy dog eyes.

“There is no way in hell I’m going in that closet.”

Eddie grinned, smile lines creasing his cheeks. “C’mon, it’s not that bad.”

“Eds, you need glasses. Look at this,” you waved an arm around at the potential candidates you’d have the ‘pleasure’ of sharing a small, dark, linen closet with.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “The worst is already in there,” he teased, “’sides, Harrington’s here.”

Harrington.

“Don’t even think about it,” you muttered and he grinned even wider.

“What? He’s nice now. Saved my ass more than a few times,” Eddie protested and you rolled your eyes.

“Absolutely not.”

Steve Harrington and his stupid member’s only jacket and perfectly coiffed hair and million dollar smile, the one that could – apparently – bag any girl he wanted. It had boggled your mind when Robin told you she’d made a new friend, Steve Harrington, can you believe it?? No, you couldn’t. Since when did King Steve buddy up with band geeks? A few shifts at Scoops Ahoy and you were already playing second fiddle to some asshole jock.

Well, not today. You didn’t need this.

Shooting back the last of the whiskey sour in your cup you gave the handle of the door one last glance and shook your head – stupid – but when you moved to leave the crowd gave a whoop.

“Shit, Tommy!” “Carol, oh my god, how was it??” “Did you find heaven?” “Gross!”

Tommy emerged from the closet triumphant, pumping a fist in the air with Carol under his arm, cheeks flushed and a big grin on her face. Everyone was eating it up and the thought of having to go in there with someone, anyone, made your stomach flip over.

“Eds, I’m going–”

“No–Sweetheart, stay!” he begged, nudging Robin with his elbow, “Right, Robs?”

“Are you kidding? No, you can’t leave. This is just getting good! What, are you nervous or something? Oh my god, you are! What’re you nervous about? Is it cos Peter Townsend is here? He’s so not your type–”

“Robin,” you hissed, cheeks flushed as every pair of eyes in the room settled on you.

“Wha–oh,” Robin chuckled and pasted on a piss poor excuse for a smile.

“You can’t go now,” Carol purred from under Tommy’s arm, “You’re up next, hon.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This wasn’t happening.

“Sorry, I have to be up early tomorrow for work and–”

“It’s only seven minutes,” Tommy sneered, the grin on his mouth pulling up at the edges – a shark with blood in the water.

You couldn’t breathe, air sucked out of your lungs as your grasped at straws, trying to muster up another excuse. You desperately looked to Robin and Eddie for help, but they were too busy whispering and giggling at your expense and your cheeks burned.

“Fine,” you pushed, trying your best to sound unbothered, chin tipped up in defiance.

“That’s more like it,” Tommy said with a whoop, rubbing his hands together, “And while you were too busy arguing with tweedle dee and dum over there we all decided you’re in with Harrington.”

Your stomach lurched dangerously, queasy and full of dread.

“But, I thought you were supposed to spin–”

“Nah, we put it to a vote,” Carol cut you off picking at her nails, “Better not keep him waiting.”

Keep him waiting? Your eyes frantically searched the sea of faces staring at you, but Steve wasn’t among them. When your gaze finally settled on the closet you saw it was just barely cracked, a shadowy figure shifting in the inky black just beyond.

You thought you were going to be sick, but you weren’t about to be made into a wuss. Turning to Eddie you grabbed his beer and chugged it in one go, then finished off whatever was in Robin’s cup too, shit, easy sweetheart.

“You’re on the clock,” Tommy goaded as Carol took hold of your hand and tugged you toward the closet.

“Have fun,” she teased, voice sing-songy, shoving you through the door and shutting it behind you, plunging you into darkness.

❝ MAYBE I’M WRONG, WON’T YOU TELL ME IF I’M COMING ON TOO STRONG?

Your eyes strained against the black of the small room, your body all too aware of there being someone else in there with you. It made the air thick, too warm and too close and the booze swimming through your veins had you feeling on edge.

“Thought you were gonna stand me up.”

Steve’s voice broke the tension and you jumped at the sudden noise, pulse fluttering against your neck.

“You’re lucky I didn’t,” you cut back, trying to stick to your guns, but then he shifted a little closer, his breath warming over you cheek, and it melted whatever resolve you had left.

“Ouch,” he half-laughed, arm brushing yours as he rocked on his feet.

It was slow, but your eyes were adjusting, dense black shadows blurring into soft indigos and violets and Steve’s face swam into focus. Thick, dark lashes framing warm, hazel eyes, the strong slope of his jaw, moles chasing across his neck and cheeks and that dumb grin. The one he was giving you now.

"This is stupid,” you muttered and Steve laughed, tutting at you.

“You didn't have to come, you know,” he teased and you gifted him with a particularly bratty eye roll.

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” you snarked and it pulled the corners of his mouth up into a tiny grin.

“At the time, huh? Not anymore?”

You scoffed, shook your head and folded your arms over your chest, but the words wouldn't come. Stuck in your throat at the way you could feel the warmth of Steve's chest lingering just a few inches away, the scent of his cologne making you dizzy, hazy at the edges and all of a sudden unsure.

Shifting on his feet, Steve's toes bumped into yours as he put a hand on the wall next to your ear and leaned a little closer.

“Do I make you nervous?” he asked, his voice notched a little lower, closer, closer, closer, and it made something in your belly twist.

“Nervous?” you huffed a weak laugh, “Keep your pants on, Harrington. I don’t even know you.”

“D'you want to?” Your breath caught in your throat as he crowded over you and lifted a hand to tuck your flyaways behind your ear. “You can obviously do whatever you want, but–” his tongue flicked out to chase along his lower lip and heat pooled in your belly at the thought of what he might taste like, “–aren’t you a little curious?”

“Curious?” you breathed, voice barely above a whisper and he nodded softly.

“Yeah, what it would be like.”

You’d been in classes him with since grade school, watched as he won everyone over for popularity in middle school and shot to the top of the social pyramid in high school all while you lingered down at the bottom with Eddie and Robin and Jonathan, but you couldn’t deny it. Of course you’d looked at him just a little too long, eyes stuck on the way his Levi’s hugged in all the right places, heart racing when he smiled at you from down the hall.

“To kiss you?” you asked and he hummed, a low rumble in his chest.

“Only if you want to,” came out strained, a strangled sound as he pushed the words from his lips and you found yourself arching into him.

“I–” you started, lashes fluttering atop your cheeks, “–I want to.”

And Steve wanted it too, hadn’t realized just how down bad he was for you. You in those jeans. You and the way you seemed immune to his charms. You and your confidence and fire and disregard for everything ‘cool’ or ‘trendy.’

“You sure?” he asked again, body tensing as your hips bumped into his, jaw ticking as he bit down on the heat swelling his chest.

“Kiss me,” you whispered and he felt himself unravel at the way your voice edged on needy, a little desperate, a little bossy and God – you were hot.

His free hand moved to rest on your waist, fingers pressing into the plush of your hip, breaths falling heavy between you as he leaned down, down, down to capture your bottom lip between his and it was like a rubber band snapping.

Years worth of tension pulling and stretching and straining as you both played it all off like nothing. Like you didn’t care. The thought of you being with each other like this a joke, but the only people you were fooling was yourselves.

Steve tugged at your bottom lip and it pulled a sound from your throat that put him in the palm of your hand — soft, pliable, yours. He dropped his hand from the wall to grab at your other hip and you teetered a little off balance, grabbing at his shoulders to steady yourself.

Your arms looped around his neck too easy then, like they’d been doing it for years, like they’d mapped the curve of his neck and muscles pulled taut across his back a thousand times. Pressing your tongue to the seam of his lips he opened to you and you licked into him, tasted spearmint, cheap beer, Steve, and you wanted more.

He slotted a knee between your thighs and you gasped, a lovely pretty sound he wished he could keep forever, keening for him as he pressed your back into the wall. Parted your lips with a pop and dragged messy, open-mouthed kissed down your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder–

“Harrington, is your watch broken? Jesus it’s been like ten min–”

“Shit,” Steve stumbled away from you into the shelves full of towels as Tommy yarded the closet door open, the sight of you two dropping his mouth into a little ‘o’. Hair messed, foreheads dewy with sweat, lips kiss-bitten and a hicky sucked to your neck.

“My bad, did you need another seven?” Tommy grinned.

Head leaned back against the shelves, Steve squeezed his eyes shut, chin tipped up as he pushed a heavy sigh from his lungs and all too aware of the way the crotch of his jeans was way too tight.

“Yeah, maybe,” Steve hissed, hands tangled in his hair and it made you laugh. A soft, little thing without any heat behind it, cheeks flushed and pink.

“It’s all good, Hagan,” came out easy, confidence swelling where Steve’s had deflated, “We can finish it in the car.”

And God, Steve would’ve made a mess of his pants right then and there if you hadn’t pulled him from the closet and up the stairs out to your bronco with a bench seat more than wide enough to fit two people on top of it, more than confident you wouldn’t need another seven minutes.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[lathalea]

The Arrival

Yes, my beloved readers, it's time for another Thorin fic from yours truly!

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader/OC (pick one) Rating: G Warnings: none Author's notes: Thorin and his Company have reclaimed Erebor and started rebuilding their kingdom. Everything seems fine except for the fact that the King Under The Mountain is eagerly awaiting the arrival of someone very dear to him... Also, I want to apologise to Peter Jackson for stealing some lines from An Unexpected Journey and J.R.R. Tolkien for appropriating and rephrasing one sentence from The Lord of The Rings.  I'm a hopeless romantic, what can I say? You can find this fic on AO3. For @legolasbadass 💙💙💙

Khuzdul: Iglishmêk - dwarven sign language Kurdelê - my heart Lukhdelê - my light of all lights

The King Under the Mountain, Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, the second of his name, also known as Thorin Oakenshield, the king of Durin’s folk, was not a patient Dwarf—and yet he waited. He had been standing on the main terrace above the Great Gate of Erebor since the moment when the first rays of the morning sun gilded the distant peaks of the Iron Hills. His eyes, however, were turned towards the west, where the jagged tops of the Misty Mountains grazed against the pink sky. As he took a deep breath, fresh spring air filled his lungs. It was his—and his people’s—first spring in Erebor since it was reclaimed. The winter after the Battle of Five Armies passed in a blink of an eye. The kingdom was being rebuilt and prepared for the returning Dwarves, food stores had to be replenished, new trade agreements had to be signed… but among all those duties, something else kept Thorin awake until late on many a night. His memories.

The memory of a pair of hands gently resting on his shoulders as he sat behind his desk, and the sweet timbre of the voice that went with it, “Come, Kurdelê, it is time we reposed for the night, those reports can wait until the morning.”

The memory of those soft, sweet lips pressing innocently against his cheek and murmuring something scandalously indecent into his ear.

The memory of how her body felt in his lap, his arms around her waist, her arms around his neck, her forehead pressed against his, her silver laughter as she pretended to scold his rash behaviour, so unbecoming of a king.

The memory of her bare skin in candlelight.

But there were other memories, too. Their lengthy late-night conversations about anything and everything. Their secret escapades to the market, or to an inn, dressed as common folk, pretending to be a couple of travelling merchants. Their wanderings through the Blue Mountains in search of the best view of the sea in the west (his choice) and the most beautiful flower glades (her choice). 

During the lengthy council meetings he had to hold almost daily in Erebor, he would recall how much her presence changed the dynamics of similar gatherings back in the Blue Mountains. Her reasoning was swift, and her no-nonsense approach to the matters of state made even the most ancient council members nod in approval. Even now, he would—out of habit—turn to his right, wishing to discuss a matter with her or ask for her insight. But she was not there, and so he would give out a dissatisfied grunt and return to the matter at hand. 

He knew that the only thing he had to do was wait, and he abhorred it. But there was nothing to be done. No sane person would risk crossing the Misty Mountains in the middle of winter. Now, however, the spring came into its own right. And he sent his best men to the High Pass to oversee the approach of the first dwarven caravan from Eriador. It was supposed to bring the first group of his people returning home, merchants, masters of craft, their families and belongings… and her. The whole Erebor was waiting for the arrival of their kin—the symbol of a new beginning for the Mountain and its dwellers. Many eyes turned to the west, counting the days, making wagers, discussing the route the waggons must have taken, and the current road conditions. It seemed that in those days, only one topic existed: the caravan.

But Thorin could only think of her lovely hand in his.  Of her kindred touch.

As soon as a raven brought word from the caravan, reporting that they have succesfully crossed the mountains, he could not stop himself from looking to the west, and hoping. 

This was the fifth day he spent on the terrace, waiting for any signs of the caravan’s approach.

On the first day, Gloin waited with him in hopes of seeing his wife and son, but was called away due to some issue in the treasure chamber. Thorin stayed, cursing the enchanted forest (and its haughty king, for good measure) for daring to obscure his view. Sadly, neither the forest nor its king moved out of the way.

On the second day, Dwalin asked Thorin whether he was growing mawkish in his dotage, staring at the edge of Mirkwood like a lovesick whelp—a question he had to take back on the training grounds. 

On the third day, Dori asked whether Thorin would rather wait inside, on account of that nasty rain, and drink some warm tea with honey. No, said Thorin, he would not. And that envoy from the Iron Hills could join him there, on the terrace, by the way.

On the fourth day, Nori, Bifur and Bofur kept Thorin company, amusing him—and themselves in equal measure—with the latest gossip straight from the taverns of Erebor (all two of them, for now). He had no idea that several hundreds of dwarves, mostly newcomers from the Iron Hills and the White Mountains, could wreak such havoc. And marry so swiftly and in such numbers. Spring was truly in the air.

Now, on the fifth day, he stood alone, and waited. Roac was circling the Long Lake below, giving out a single caw from time to time, “Still nothing.”

And then, a hunting horn rang out in the air. Thorin knew its sound all too well.

“Balin!” he exclaimed to his friend who sat in the hall beyond the terrace. “Sound the alarm!”

The elderly dwarf raised his head from above a piece of parchment, slightly puzzled.

“Call out the guard,” Thorin insisted, feeling his impatience take the better of him. “Do it now! 

“What is it?” Balin rose from his seat, his scroll forgotten.

“The caravan!” Thorin gestured excitedly—perhaps a tad too excitedly for a Dwarf of his stature—towards Mirkwood, where a long line of waggons started emerging from the forest. “They will be here soon!”

She will be here soon. 

Over a year passed since the last time he held her in his arms, since he braided the silky dark waves of her hair, and since he looked into the brilliant, wise eyes of the woman he loved. To him, it felt like an eternity, and in that very moment, as he hurried down the stairs that led towards the Great Gate, he made a solemn promise to himself.

When the caravan arrived, most of the Dwarves were already gathered outside of the mountain. The guards held their heads high, presenting their weapons in an honorary salute, not leaving their posts, but even they cast curious glances at the newly arrived, trying to find familiar faces in the crowd. Thorin smirked at his thoughts. They looked as impatient as their king.

He knew the protocol of such meetings like the back of his hand, requiring him to stand by the gate, look regally, and welcome the newcomers to their new—old—home. His resolve wavered, however, when he saw a familiar figure clad in a green, fur-lined gown getting down a waggon, helped by one of the guardsmen. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Without thinking, he took a step forward, and then stopped, recalling who he was and what he was expected to do. He was also not allowed to leave his post, just like his guards. Instead, he observed from a distance, admiring the way the waves of her hair fell down her shoulders as she looked around, perhaps slightly disoriented, taking in the surroundings. Thorin saw the exact moments when her gaze rested on the mossy stone shaped by his ancestors into statues of warrior kings. Then her gaze moved down, focusing on the green marble of the Great Gate. Her eyes widened, her lips formed an “O” and then moved, she spoke something, but her words were lost in all the commotion. In that very moment, she reminded him of that bright-eyed maiden he had met for the first time in a mountain meadow half a world away; the maiden who laughed at his abysmal jokes, who fit so well in his arms when they danced, and who accepted his awkward courting efforts. The time that passed between then and now did not take away her ability to wonder and enjoy the world around her. She endured so many hardships on the way from the Blue Mountains to Erebor, so many cold nights on the road, faced so many dangers, and yet she never wavered in her decision to leave the Blue Mountains behind to be with him and their people. Now, she was finally here and, at last, he felt complete. Being able to see his own kingdom—their kingdom—through her eyes, and to see how amazed she was at the view, was a reward on its own. 

Thorin could not stop himself from smiling when her eyes finally met his. 

“Welcome home, my…” he began signing in iglishmêk, in that discreet way they often did on official occasions when the eyes of many would rest on them.

A light flush bloomed on her cheeks, she responded with a smile, and began walking towards him, oblivious of her escort and the joyous crowd around her, forgetting about the protocol, moving faster and faster, a giggle escaping her lips, her braids danced in the wind, her cloak flowed behind her, and…

“Thorin!” she called him in that melodious voice of hers, and there were diamonds in her eyes, or perhaps it was only his vision that suddenly turned very blurry, and he opened her arms, and thought “the Abyss take the protocol!”, and he rushed towards her, ignoring Balin clearing his throat in embarrassment, because she was finally here, and he had waited long enough—and they finally met halfway.

He wrapped his arms around her and felt her pressing into him, and there was laughter, and more tears in their eyes, the diamonds of happiness, those most precious among gems, and he was finally able to finish that sentence.

“Welcome home, my wife,” he rasped out, pressing his forehead against her, breathing in her familiar flowery scent, the one he adored so much. This was her, finally her, in his arms, and only she mattered in this very moment, not the crowd cheering around them, witnessing this moment of tenderness between their ruling couple, not even his kingdom, nor the world around them—now, it was only her.

“I missed you, my love,” she murmured, holding tight onto him, as if she wanted to make sure he would not disappear, and a wave of warmth washed over him. “I can’t believe I’m finally here, with you, after all those months…”

“Neither can I,” he agreed, cupping her cheek tenderly and eliciting a small sigh from her. “It was much too long, Lukhdelê.”

“Aye, it was,” she nodded, her eyes searching his face, as if learning it anew.

“I made a promise to myself,” Thorin continued. “Never again.”

“Oh?” she tilted her head in that alluring way of hers, and he had to suppress the improper urge to kiss her passionately in front of his people.

“Never again shall we part for so long. I crave you by my side, my heart,” he stated, bringing her hand to his lips.

“Then I will be looking forward to you upholding the promise,” she graced him with a teasing smile that made his blood run faster. “We have been apart indeed for too long, and so were our people. I believe it is time for us to work on improving their morale, would you not agree, my king?”

“Your wish is my command, my queen,” he agreed and took her in his arms again, and then their lips met. Sweetness intermingled with warmth, tenderness fueled the fire inside them, and he cared not that they stood in front of the gate in the sight of many.

After all, who cares about protocol when you have to properly welcome your wife home?

💙💙💙 Read it? Like it? Spread the love and reblog it! 💙💙💙

📜 Searching for more stories to read? Check out my masterlist!📜

Do you like my writing? Would you like to read more? Feel free to show your support by having a Ko-fi with me! Thank you 💙

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed): @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings​ @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @anyaspidergirl-blog @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @legolasbadass @yourqueenunderthemountain @reblogunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @elrawienthewhite @xmly-xo @mrsdurin @nelleedraws @beenovel @vee-vee-writes @mcchiberry  @dumbassunderthemountain @errruvande @laurfilijames @emrfangirl @s0ftd3m0n @lilith15000 @kami-chan1512  @ragsweas @enchantzz @aduialel @myselfandfantasy @thewhiteladyofrohan @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @blairsanne @fckmini @clumsy-wonderland @wormsmith @mailinsblogofstuff  @medusas-hairband @xxbyimm @knittastically @saucyminxbrainspill @quiall321 @frosticenow @glassgulls

[annwrites]

—meet me in the woods

say goodbye to who i was. i ain't never been away so long. don't look back, them days are gone. — thranduil x modernday!reader ; 𓋼𓍊 𓆏 𓍊𓋼𓍊.

a/n: while i've listened to bluefax's dramatic audiobook version of the hobbit, listened to phil dragesh's audiobooks of lotr (fellowship twice now), watched all of peter jackson's films multiple times, & seen s1 of trop, i'm not terribly versed in tolkien's lore. as such, i intend to be taking great liberties with this fic in regards to it.

i'm putting this note out there now, bc i know how tolkien's fans can be when it comes to lore accuracy & i'm not going to tolerate being attacked for discrepancies in a fanfic i'm writing for free & for fun. not to mention, first & foremost, for myself.

Thranduil’s nostrils flare and he rests his arms behind his back. “What are you doing out here?”

You jump at the unexpected sound of his voice, gripping the hem of your dress more tightly in your hands.

You settle your feet firmly in the softly flowing current of warm, shimmering water you stand in before you meet his gaze. “Wading.”

“You should be inside,” he spits.

Your brows furrow. “There’s guards,” you say, glancing across the way to a pair of archers, then back to him. “And at least being out here puts me out of your way.”

He takes a small step closer, leaves crunching beneath his tall leather boots. “You’ll do as I command.”

You stare up at him in disbelief.

He loathes your presence, so you come out here as an attempt to diffuse tension—to start instead enjoying your days in this unfamiliar place, away from his insufferable company—and still he’s displeased by your actions.

You step out of the river, climbing up the embankment, dropping your skirts around your bare feet while you blink up at him. “At once, your highness.”

He sneers at you, grabbing you roughly by the arm, pulling you into his chest.

You stare into his eyes, and he into yours, glancing between them and…your lips.

Finally, he releases you with a huff and a shake of his head—long silver hair slipping over his shoulders—marching back into Mirkwood.

He seats himself beside you upon lush green grass, watching as tree branches sway in the wind, birds flitting between them, chirping a musical tune, the scent of damp soil invading his senses.

You remain silent, fighting back tears.

“What is it today?” He asks with exasperation.

You shake your head, looking in another direction.

He rolls his eyes upwards. Difficult girl.

He remains silent, however, waiting for you to answer him.

“I’ve been here for weeks,” you state. “And I still can’t remember…anything. Not where I came from, or how I got here.”

Your chin wobbles. “I don’t even have a name.”

Silence settles into the space between you, hot tears slipping down your soft cheeks while you wrap your shawl more tightly around you.

“Would you like for me to, then?”

You look at him with furrowed brows. “What?”

He reaches up—swallowing thickly when you flinch away from his touch—tucking a lock of hair behind your ear before resting his hand in his lap again. “Name you.”

One day while exploring the woods near your house, you come across an open novel lying atop a rotting tree trunk, weeds sprouting from its pages. Wanting a closer inspection, you lean down, glancing over the faded printed words—something about a place called ‘Mirkwood’ and an elf named Thranduil—before you grip the page’s edge, about to turn it, and an overwhelming feeling comes over you before you blackout entirely.

And when you awake, it’s in a new world, with no knowledge left within you of your previous one. Not even your own name.

You’re quickly discovered by men with pointed ears who bear swords and bows, who begin a swift interrogation as to who you are and how you passed through their boundaries unnoticed.

You plead with them not to hurt you. That you have no idea where you even are—who you are—so they decide to bring you before their king, so as to answer for your crime of trespassing.

A king who immediately finds displeasure at your mortal presence in his home—eager to rid himself of you nigh-immediately—until you beg him not to banish you into an unknown land. To please help you—you’ll do anything he says—you just need to bide your time until your memory returns and then you will be gone, never to return.

With great reluctance, he takes a kernel of pity upon you. But he assures you: his hospitality has its limits, so you best tread carefully.

headcanons:

enemies-to-lovers.

reader’s memory will eventually return, but in random spurts.

when that starts occurring, it actually makes thranduil uneasy, afraid that once it’s been fully restored, she’ll leave him & mirkwood behind.

i know he’s not half-elf, but reader is going to be legolas’ mother.

[bambieyedoll]

⊹ ⋆ ꒰ఎﾟMOODBOARD ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

peter pevensie⠀⠀ ﹝〝⠀golden age⠀!⠀⠀╱︎⠀⠀high king, the magnificent .⠀﹞ the chronicles of narnia .

[raven-dor]

say yes to me

In which peter pevensie finally finds the courage he's famously known for

PAIRING: peter pevensie x reader, susan pevensie x PLATONIC!reader, edmund pevensie x PLATONIC!reader, lucy pevensie x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: SET DURING THE GOLDEN AGE, established relationship, old friends, banter, arguing (not actual arguing, just reader knowing her worth, peter just stands there), allusion to NSFW, fluff

WORD COUNT: 2,342

say yes to heaven

Peter stalked across the ballroom, determined to talk to Y/N.

On the other side stood Y/N, who was determined to ignore Peter until hell froze over.

Susan rolled her eyes at the predicament. It was obvious neither of them would let it go, so she decided to take the reigns of the situation and manipulate their minds—slightly—so that they would stop this nonsense and so Susan, Edmund, and poor, sweet, confused Lucy could finally live in peace. "You have to dance with him."

Y/N scoffed. "I don't have to do anything."

Susan nodded. "You're right; you don't have to do anything. I just thought the High Queen and King should have the last dance instead of the High King and Duchess Mian, but it is no matter. I'll go get her-"

She shook her head. "No, it's-"

Peter approached his siblings, only looking at Y/N. He extended his hand hesitantly. "May I have this last waltz?"

She sighed, putting her hand in his. "If you must."

They walked away, and Edmund laughed at his older sister. "Remind me never to be on your bad side, Su."

Lucy looked up at Susan, puzzled. "But Duchess Mian was done dancing hours ago. She twisted her ankle."

Susan smirked. "She doesn't need to know that."

Peter put his hand around Y/N’s waist, earning a scoff from the annoyed Queen. "You don't have to be this close for a waltz, Your Majesty."

"Don't call me that."

"Call you what? Your formal title?"

He glared at her. "Stop behaving like a child."

She laughed. "I'm behaving like a child? Interesting."

"Y/N/N, I'm sorry."

She smirked, murmuring. "Well, this is new."

He continued. "I'm sorry that I haven't made you feel loved, and I'm sorry that you feel like I don't pay attention to you, but I do." Y/N just stared at him as he kept talking. "I know that your favorite color is deep blue like the sea, I know that you prefer blueberries above all other fruit, I know that you are fiercely loyal, that you want two children because you're scared the first one will get lonely. I know that you treat my siblings like your own, and I know that you are the love of my life." Somewhere along the line of his speech, she had looked down and was staring at his chest. Peter cleared his throat, nerves overtaking his adrenaline. "Say anything, please."

"I can't believe you." They twirled around again, and Peter became confused. Why was she still upset with him? "Y/N/N I-"

"Don't Y/N/N me. I just told you that I didn't want you to tell me like this because it would feel rushed. And here you are, saying some beautiful, heartfelt speech, and you expect me to fall into your arms? Is that it?"

"I didn't think that would happen exactly, but I did think it would go a little better than this-" He stopped, and his smile returned quickly. "You thought it was beautiful?"

"Peter-"

The waltz ended, and Y/N thanked Aslan. Perfect timing. Susan walked out into the middle of the dance floor, grinning. "Thank you all for such a wonderful evening. Safe travels home, and a Happy Christmas!"

Y/N talked to a few guests, thanking them for traveling so very far. But when they had all trickled out, and it was just the Narnian royals, she stalked off as far away from Peter as she could.

She leaned her head against the back of her chair, letting out a deep breath. The night had felt longer than it actually had been, and she always felt more relaxed sitting on her balcony. Her robe did little to keep her warm, so she went back into her closet and pulled out a thicker one, layering it on top. Going outside in the middle of winter wasn't the wisest idea, but the balcony was her safe space. Her door flung open, and she gasped, hiding against the wall, looking for anything near her to defend herself. Peter’s voice echoed through her room, causing her to feel as though steam was coming out of her ears.

"Y/N."

She left her hiding spot, stalking toward him. "You cannot just come into my room unannounced-"

"I have to talk to you."

She shook her head.  "You cannot be in here-"

"Y/N/N, please-"

She put her hands on his chest, pushing him towards the door. "Someone could see you-"

"I do not care." He looked down at her, his eyes crazed with something she didn't want to address at the moment. But apparently, he did. "I love you, and I know that you love me. You're just scared. You don't like that I finally admitted my feelings for you at the wrong time when it looked like it didn't matter." He sighed. "And I am truly sorry for that, I am. But you helped me realize that I love you, and I always have." He walked closer. "I know that you love me too. You just don't want to become vulnerable."

She scoffed. "I am not in love with you. We're eighteen. We just think we're in love."

He laughed. "I did not say that you were in love with me."

Her cheeks turned red. "No, but you implied it.” He looked at her with that stupid grin. “Leave, Pevensie." She pushed his chest again, but he grabbed her wrists. She shook against his hold. "Why do you always resort to this?"

He pulled her closer. "You know that you love me."

She didn't move away, but she didn't move toward him. She merely smiled up at him. "You-need-to-leave." She pushed him once more. "We cannot handle another scandal at the moment."

He rolled his eyes. "I would hardly call turning down Lord Eluna a scandal."

Her laugh was void of humor. "It is when it looks like I merely turned him down because I wanted to."

Peter huffed. "Fine, I'll go." He smiled one last time before he left her room. "But you know where to find me."

Y/N laid back on her bed, staring at the ceiling in shock. She did love him; she knew that. She then spent the next hour contemplating whether or not she should go to him. A moment of weakness struck at 2 am. She couldn't get his confession out of her head. Actually, it was just the one sentence that made her heart flutter. "And I know that you are the love of my life."

Slipping on her shoes, she tiptoed to Peter's room, knocking on the door. No answer. Maybe he had gone to bed. She knocked once more, and the door opened, Peter's groggy face in front of her. She smiled awkwardly. "Did I wake you?"

He shook his head. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head back. He held the door open more, gesturing to come inside. Y/N looked around, smiling, when she saw a painting of the five of them above his fireplace. He closed the door and walked towards the fire, fixing a kettle. 

"Would you like tea? Always makes me feel better when I-"

"I know that you're the love of my life too."

He put the kettle down and stood up, staring at her. "What?"

"I love you. I'm sorry, I just- I had to tell you." Peter walked towards her slowly, a smile growing on his face, and she became nervous. "Why are you silent? You're never silent." He walked closer, and she whispered, a smile threatening to break through her scared facade. "Please just say something."

Peter's smile had grown into a full grin as he looked down at her, whispering back a single word. "Jump."

A chill ran down her spine as she complied with his request. He held her by her thighs as he walked her up against a wall. She flushed. He dipped his head down, grinning boyishly. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."

She sighed, stretching her neck to touch his lips. "Just do it, please."

He smirked and slammed his lips into hers without any warning. She let her hands travel up the nape of his neck, grabbing his neck and pulling slightly. She gasped for air, looking up at him, dazed and content. "I want you."

His eyes were dark, and her knees felt weak. He grinned once more, throwing her onto the bed. "I am going to prove to you how much I love you."

The sun poked lazily through shut drapes, hitting her eyes. She sighed, opening them hesitantly. Her legs tangled together with Peters and his burgundy sheets. Y/N smiled giddily, knowing that last night hadn't been a dream. Peter's head was resting underneath her jaw, and she hummed softly, putting her hand through his hair. She moved slightly, trying to re-situate herself, and he groaned, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her closer, if that was somehow possible. He murmured in his sleep. "Y/N..."

She couldn't bring herself to wake him, so she carefully grabbed a pillow she had been using and placed it underneath his head. Prying his arm off her waist, she grabbed her nightgown and robe, quickly throwing them on. She looked back at Peter once more, pushing the hair out of his face, and gently kissed his forehead.

Y/N tiptoed towards his door, shutting it gently, and let out a deep breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. She walked to her room quickly and sank to the ground. "What just happened?" She was in shock, that much she knew. It wasn't the kind of shock you have after witnessing something horrible, but her gut was twisting, and she knew it was because they’d changed their dynamic forever. It was a lot to handle by herself.

She needed to breathe.

Penelope galloped out of the stables, and she sighed as the fresh air rejuvenated her skin. Winter was in full bloom, but it wasn't the evil, cold, and dark winter that Narnians were used to. It was a magical, warm winter. The air was crisp but just enough so you enjoyed it. She rode into the woods, only slowing when she saw something eerily familiar. She stopped Penelope and jumped off, the snow crunching underneath her feet.

The lamp post.

Y/N grinned. It was still here. She walked closer, feeling at home with the old piece of infrastructure. She walked further into the woods, remembering the way back to the Spare Oom, as Tumnus so lovingly called it, perfectly. The flashbacks flooded back, and she grinned as she reminisced back to when they were just children. A chill ran down her back as she made contact with a rather furry branch. She kept walking forward, seeing the crack of the door until a voice called out.

"Y/N!"

She gasped, throwing herself out of the wardrobe. Walking back to the lamp post, butterflies fluttered incessantly at the sight of Peter and his disheveled hair. He looked nervous, and she blushed; it was sweet to see how much he cared.

She smiled lightly, walking closer to him. "Hello."

He nodded. "Hello."

Y/N cleared her throat. "Is something wrong-"

"You weren't there. This morning." He coughed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Imagine my surprise when I rolled over and you were no longer there."

She sighed. "Peter-"

"I understand. We don't have to talk about it again; we can just forget it happened-"

"I don't want to forget."

He looked up, tilting his head. "You don't?"

"No. I don't." She put her hand on his arm, smiling. "I had a nice time. I just needed some fresh air, that's all."

He nodded. "Ah." He grabbed her hand delicately and kissed the back, his eyes locked on hers. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry." She brought her other hand up to his cheek, caressing it softly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

He sighed, and she stood on her tiptoes, kissing his lips softly. "Do you forgive me now?"

He didn't respond, and she kissed him once more, more passionately than the first. He’d almost melted into the ground. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her closer, murmuring against her lips. "You're forgiven."

"Oh thank Aslan, I was worried for a second."

He rolled his eyes. "As if I could ever be mad at you. "

Y/N squealed as Peter helped her off her horse and twirled her around. She grinned down at him, and he looked up at her like she was the moon and the stars.

A cough echoed through the empty stables. "Are we interrupting?"

Her eyes widened, and she pushed herself away from Peter. "No, not at all."

Peter looked down at her with a humorous glint in his eye. "Not at all?"

She hissed at him, pulling his ear down to her level. "We are in the presence of your family, Peter. Try to hold yourself together for a moment." He smirked, whispering back. "That's going to be difficult."

Edmund sighed. "Are you done?"

Y/N nodded. "Yes, yes, we're done." She pat Peter's arm lightly. "I'll see you at dinner, Peter."

Peter watched her take two steps, and he just couldn't stand it anymore. He grabbed her wrist as she tried to walk away and pulled her back towards him. She looked up at him, her eyes wide. She shook her head slowly, and he smiled reassuringly before looking up. He cleared his throat and looked up at his siblings. "Y/N and I have something to tell you."

Susan sighed. "Peter, you did not elope-"

They both turned red, shaking their heads quickly. "No! No!" Y/N looked up at him, and he smiled brightly. "We’re courting."

Susan crossed her arms and decided she would bring up the fact that she knew Y/N had been in his room for a different time.

taglist: @beebeechaos

[im-a-wonderling]

Bruises, Part 18 ~ Peter Pevensie

I hope everyone is having a restful holiday season, and if you aren’t, I hope this helps ❤️

Warnings: none?

Word count: 8.2k

Bruises Masterlist

Peter didn’t even have time to raise his arms before the dryad body-slammed him. He reeled backwards, colliding with me and bringing us both down to the ground. 

The weight of Peter’s body on mine disappeared the moment after it appeared as Peter leapt to his feet. “Let’s talk about this!” he sternly told the dryad, but she just swiped at him, sending him careening off in the direction of the fire. He barely managed to twist to avoid the flames. I didn’t have time to be relieved, for the dryad fixed her glassy gaze on me. 

Pushing myself to my feet, I held out my hands, trying to show I was unarmed. The silver bracelet around my wrist caught the light, reminding me of just how unarmed I really was. 

The dryad lifted her arms, and I leapt back, trying to stay out of her reach. 

As disoriented as the dryad was, she had no right being as fast as she was.

Quick as lightning, she lashed out, and the sheer force of her attack launched me backwards, straight into the boulder Peter’d been leaning against. 

I dropped to the ground, gasping, trying to breathe, but the hit left me stunned. Dazed, I pulled my head up to see the dryad looming over me, reaching out to grab me. I tried to scoot away, but there was nowhere for me to go. Pressing my back against the rock, I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the blow. 

“Leave her alone!”

My eyes flew open in time to see the dryad swivel towards Peter, who was standing his ground, a fallen tree branch in his hand. 

She advanced on Peter. He swung the tree branch. Clearly, the dryad’s mind wasn’t sound, because she didn’t even try to block the blow before it hit her torso.

The dryad stumbled, but quickly regained her footing. 

I jumped to my feet, looking around for a weapon of some kind but there was nothing that would make a dent. Then my eyes fell upon the bracelet around my wrist. 

My magic was the only weapon I had, and I’d shackled it earlier with no way of getting the bracelet off without Tolna’s help. 

I looked up to see Peter try to hit the dryad again, but she easily grabbed the branch, gripping it so tightly that it snapped. Peter’s eyes went wide just before the dryad shoved him. He slammed into the grass, twisting to look up at her. 

All I could do was scream as she brought her foot down on Peter’s sword arm.

The sickening sound of bone snapping reached my ears, and Peter crumbled, cradling the limb. I didn’t have to be close to know that his arm was broken. 

I ran towards him, but the dryad saw me coming and delivered a strike to my stomach, forcing me backwards again. I landed on the grass, coming face to face with the fire that still burned, the heat like a blow to the face. 

The heat…

I turned to the fire, knowing what I needed to do next. 

Before I could second guess my plan, I thrust my left wrist into the fire. 

A scream tore through my lips as the flames licked my skin. I thought I heard Peter scream my name, but I couldn’t tell, not when blood was rushing in my ears. 

My body wasn’t unfamiliar with pain, but this was raging, scorching, boiling pain. 

I yanked my arm out of the flames, tears pouring down my face as I gripped my wrist with my other hand. Blisters had already formed, patches of white among the angry red of my skin. 

But in the middle of the blisters lay the bracelet. 

With a small crack running through it. 

It was working.

I looked back to Peter, who grabbed a pebble with his uninjured arm and tossed it towards the dryad. It hit with a feeble thump and fell to the grass. The dryad stared at the pebble confusedly, momentarily distracted. She wouldn’t be distracted for long. 

I steeled myself, throwing my arm back into the flames. 

The pain grew stronger, and my whole body shook with its reverberations. Through eyes filled with tears, I glanced behind me. Peter lay with his back against a tree, looking pale as the dryad raised her arms, clearly preparing to crush Peter into the ground. 

I didn’t need to look at my burning wrist to know the bracelet was still on. Peter looked at me, and from his expression, I knew. He was saying goodbye. 

“No!” I screamed. But I was too far away to do anything except watch. 

Just as the dryad started bringing her arms down, I felt the bracelet break. 

The magic rushed back so quickly, my vision swam before turning red. There was no thinking, no conscious decision, no finesse whatsoever. There was only fear, and the resulting surge of magic that left my fingertips. 

I heard a cry before my vision cleared in time to see the dryad reel backwards and fall to her knees. 

Not wasting the moment, I hurled forward, planting myself in between the dryad and Peter. Behind me, Peter tried to say something, but his voice was too strained for me to hear it. I extended my vibrating hands towards the dryad, preparing to land the next blow. 

But the dryad didn’t attack again. 

I didn’t move, wondering if the dryad had enough wits about her to play dead. The skin of my left wrist was burning, but the adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream allowed me to ignore it, keeping myself primed for action as I glared at the dryad. 

Then I noticed the red streaks on her body start to fade, leaving only brown and green behind. When the dryad lifted her head, her eyes were clear. “Wha-what’s happening?” she asked, bringing a hand to her head. 

“You healed her.” 

A dripping King Edmund stood on the other side of the clearing, staring at the dryad with a stunned expression. He turned his wide eyes on me. “How did you heal her?”

His presence was about the last thing I expected, but I pushed all my own questions aside. “I-I don’t know, I just blasted her with my magic, and she came to!”

King Edmund came closer, his eyes fixed on the dryad. “Do you know who you are?” he asked her, kneeling beside her. 

“I’m…uh, my name is Briersis.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “What’s going on?” King Edmund started to talk to her, using soothing words, but I ignored them, turning towards Peter. 

“Are you okay?” I asked, kneeling beside him, taking great care to keep my burnt arm from brushing against anything. 

Peter’s face was alarmingly pale, and his jaw was clenched. “I’m good, I’m alright.” He looked at my arm. “Y/N, your arm–”

“I’m fine,” I said. 

“Neither of you are fine,” King Edmund said, coming up behind us. “Pete, we gotta get that arm set.”

“What are you even doing here?” I asked King Edmund. 

“Magdrul sent me.” King Edmund lifted the sleeve of Peter’s injured arm, causing Peter to suck a breath in through his teeth. “He was worried it was a trap, and he knew I was the one who could come without getting in trouble.” 

The obvious deformity of Peter’s arm made my stomach churn. It had to be hurting greatly, and yet Peter’s eyes were resting on my injury instead of his. “Why’d you do that?” he asked.

I blinked at him, unsure as to why I didn’t want to explain the bracelet. “Um…Gonin put a bracelet on me to inhibit my magic. One of the hags took it off when I got to the castle, but when I came to meet you…”

“...you wanted to inhibit your magic,” Peter finished, understanding dawning in his face. “Because of me.”

Neither of us spoke any further. I was sure there was as much pain reflecting in my eyes as there was in Peter’s. 

“Y?N,” King Edmund cut in, startling me, “can you try use your magic to heal Pete?”

I instinctively drew my hands to my chest, shaking my head as the image of my magic blasting the flower woman ran through my mind. “I’m more likely to hurt him than to help him.”

King Edmund frowned, but he didn’t push. “Then we have to get you both to safety.” 

Safety. 

“But…” I looked at the dark-haired king, “Peter can’t swim back to the witch’s castle with only one working arm.”

“And Y/N doesn’t want to come back to the Narnian camp with me,” Peter said. 

Peter and I locked eyes, the solution becoming obvious. 

We had to separate. 

King Edmund nudged me. “Go back to the castle.”

I looked helplessly at him. “But…but…”

“I’ve got him, I’ll take him back to the Narnian camp.”

“But–”

“Go.” He gave me a gentle push. “I’ll take Briersis with me, and we’ll tell everyone what happened.”

I looked back to Peter. ““I can’t leave you,” I breathed. “I can’t, not now.”

Peter’s eyes shone with emotion, and I knew he felt the same as I did. “We’ll stay here,” he said stubbornly. “We’re not going to go back.” He shifted to sit up, and a wince broke through. 

King Edmund rested a hand on my arm. “He needs help, Y/N. You gotta go back.”

“No!” Peter cried, his face tight with pain. 

I looked between the two kings, my heart splintering. Peter and I hadn’t decided anything, we hadn’t reached a peace. If I left now, I wouldn’t see him again before the second meeting tomorrow. What if he was still of the same mind? What if he still wanted to lock up or kill the witch’s army? Then this whole evening would’ve been for naught. 

But he needed help. He couldn’t stay here. 

“You’ll take care of him?” I asked King Edmund. It was a silly question to ask, but I needed to hear it. 

King Edmund nodded. “He’ll be okay.”

“No, Y/N, don’t!” 

I turned back to Peter, lifting my uninjured hand to cup his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Peter grabbed my hand, holding me tight, but I stood, breaking out of his grasp. 

“Don’t take too long getting back,” King Edmund said, hoisting his brother to his feet. A pained groan broke through Peter’s lips as King Edmund wasted no time in dragging him off into the forest. 

Peter twisted to look over his shoulder at me, but I immediately turned away, heading for the water. 

The returning swim was so much worse than the first one. My whole body ached from the exertion and the trauma. The water should’ve felt like a balm on my mangled wrist, but instead the freezing water only made the agony sharper. I couldn’t tell if the water in my eyes were tears or water from the lake, but either way, I swam blindly for the castle. 

By the time I reached the rope, I was almost too tired to keep my head above the water. 

“My lady?” Magdrul called. “Is that you?”

“I can’t climb,” I tried to shout back, but the words were far too hoarse to reach Magdrul’s ears. “Help!” I tried to call, but the word was just a squeak. 

“Hold on!” 

I obeyed, clutching the rope with my uninjured hand. But even my grip grew weaker and weaker. 

I leaned my head against the stone of the castle. 

I’d failed. I’d snuck out and confronted Peter, and nothing had changed before the dryad showed up. I’d tried so hard to save the army, and I’d only succeeded in fighting with Peter and getting both of us injured. 

“Y/N?” Adonis’s voice called. “If you’re there, wrap the rope around the bottom of your foot so we can pull you up.”

My muscles refused to move. The cold surrounding me weighed me down, pulling me towards the bottom of the lake. I didn’t know how much longer I could manage to keep myself afloat. 

“Y/N?” Adonis called again. 

“Please!” Magdrul called down, desperation seeding his words. “Please just do it!”

I tried to move the rope, but only a finger twitched. I tried again, and my hand managed a weak squeeze. I tried a third time, and my hand managed to create a loop in the rope. 

I sluggishly fit my foot through it just before the rope was pulled taut. 

Before I knew it, I was being pulled up through the air. 

In no time at all, two arms wrapped around me, pulling me up and over the railing of the balcony. 

“Y/N,” Adonis said with relief. 

The sound of his voice was too much. A few tears escaped, feeling warm against the cold skin of my cheeks. I shut my eyes, wrapping my arms around myself. 

“Adonis,” Magdrul said quietly, “look at her hand.” 

At his words, I self-consciously shifted my burnt hand and then groaned as a flare of pain shot up my arm. 

“Get Tolna,” Adonis said sharply. “I’ll bring her to her room.” 

Magdrul took off running, and suddenly I was scooped up into the air again. I remained limp, my head spinning. It felt as if the lights and sounds around me were coming from very far away. 

The only thing solid were the warm arms surrounding me. 

“Peter?” I croaked before everything went dark. 

-

I stood on a beach, clueless as to where I was or how I’d gotten there.

To my right spanned a seemingly endless ocean, but to my left was what looked like a wall made of water. It sounded like a wave and looked like a wave, but it didn’t move forwards or backwards. I could just barely make out the tops of mountains behind the wave, but they were too distant for me to make out anything serious.

Then, a large shadow covered me, and I whirled around, breathing shallowly. And what I saw nearly had me tumbling to my knees. 

The great lion.

Aslan himself.

Standing less than ten feet away from me, his eyes boring into me, splitting me in half and wiping me clean. 

I started shaking from head to toe, feeling such awe and terror that I couldn’t do anything but stare.

“Don’t fear me,” the lion said, his gentle voice vibrating in such a way that it reminded me simultaneously of Peter’s voice and the thrumming of magic I always felt in my fingertips.

“I-I can’t help it,” I said. How could I stand in front of so majestic a creature and not feel my very bones tremble?

“Come, let me breathe on you.” The request would’ve seemed strange coming from anyone else, but somehow, coming from him it made somehow sense. 

I closed my eyes, bracing myself for some sort of hot gust of hair that smelled reminiscent of the lion’s last meal. But instead, a gentle breeze blew past me, lifting my arms and my heart, making me feel as though I could fly.

“Are you feeling braver?” the lion asked. 

I opened my eyes and was surprised to see that my hands were no longer shaking. “A little bit,” I confessed, straightening my spine. 

“Good,” he rumbled. 

“Aslan…” I trailed off, trying to form the feelings in my heart into words. “I’m so sorry.”

The lion blinked slowly. “For what?”

“For everything. For the men I killed, for the magic I abused, for all things that I’ve done.” I curled my arms around myself, lowering my gaze to the sand, unable to meet his eyes. “I know I don’t deserve forgiveness, but–”

“Do you believe,” the rich timbre of his voice made me peek up at him, “that just because you have made mistakes that you are no longer my child?” The lion gave me a gentle smile. “I know you, and I love you dearly.”

Love me? How could he love me?

Aslan chuckled, and I flushed, knowing he’d somehow surmised my thoughts. “Child, I see all and know all. I knew when you were born that great magic resided within you. I watched as your mother did her best to feed you, and I knew the moment she decided to go to the witch for sanctuary. I watched as the witch claimed you as her heir, and I knew when your mother decided she needed to protect you before you did something you couldn’t come back from.”

Even if I could’ve stopped the words, I didn’t want to hold back my truth. “But those murders aren’t something I can come back from.” 

“My sweet,” the lion said, approaching me, “you already have.”

“How?”

“Because I forgive you.”

I felt as if a great weight had been lifted from my chest, a weight I’d grown so accustomed to, I hadn’t even realized how heavy it really was. I could’ve tried for a hundred years and never been able to stop myself from shedding tears. They rolled down my cheeks, and every time I brushed the old tears away, new tears quickly took their place. 

Aslan’s eyes held understanding. “Forgiveness.” He titled his head. “It’s a powerful thing.”

“Will you give me my memories back?”

“No.”

Crestfallen, I felt my shoulders sag. “But...Aslan–”

“It is time that you stopped living in the past, struggling with the choices of others, and started focusing on your present. On making your choices.” I focused on the lion’s tail, which was gently curling and uncurling. “I gave the kings and queens of Narnia a title when they took their thrones at Cair Paravel. Now I want to give one to you.”

“To me?” I asked, peering into Aslan’s face. “But I’m not even a queen.”

“No, you’re not. But there are many people of great importance that aren’t kings and queens. You have earned this title.”

My heart soared as I knelt. 

“You have worked to overcome the things you were and the things you did. You are staying true to the lessons you’ve learned and are becoming the person you were always intended to be.” The lion smiled. “You’re a person after my own heart.” He lifted a great paw, touching first my right shoulder and then my left. “So, rise, Y/N the Lionhearted.”

“Lionhearted,” I breathed. A title directly tying me to him. 

Aslan didn’t need to tell me he was proud of me. I could see it in his eyes and feel it in my heart.

“You know what you must do,” said the lion. “Don’t you?”

I let out a shuddering breath, fear trickling back in. “I think so…but will it be enough?”

A chuckle came from the lion, but I didn’t feel rebuked, because of the kindness that shone from the lion’s eyes. “Does that change whether or not you should do it?”

“No, I guess not,” I said reluctantly, wishing it did. 

“Good. Because there will be a moment. A moment when you are preparing to say what must be said. In that moment, you must take courage and stay your course, or all will be lost. Do you understand?” 

I nodded, despite the ominous feeling that had now sunk into my skin. 

The lion stepped forward, brushing his whiskered face against mine. Abandoning caution, I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his fur, trying to draw in strength and comfort from his presence. 

“Thank you, Aslan,” I whispered into his mane before pulling back.

“Our time draws to an end,” Aslan said, and he started to turn around.

“Aslan?”

He swiveled back to face me. “Yes?”

I bit my lip, not sure if I wanted the answer to the question I was about to ask. “What about Peter and I? What will happen to us?”

He didn’t smile or frown. He merely blinked, his eyes so deep and wise, I half-believed he was looking underneath my flesh, directly into my heart. “That is a question for you to live and find out.”

I nodded, feeling a bit wistful.

“It is alright to feel sad,” Aslan said, and his voice was getting farther and farther away, as if his voice was carrying down a tunnel. “It is alright to be frightened, to be angry, to be confused. You just need to remember one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“I am with you,” said the lion.

-

I awoke slowly. My body ached, particularly my now-bandaged wrist, reminding me of the events of the night before. 

For a moment, I questioned the conversation I’d had. It wasn’t a memory, so it had to be a dream, and none of my dreams had ever possessed truth. 

But for the first time in longer than I could remember, my mind was clear. I felt soul-deep peace. 

It was real. There was no way it wasn’t. Aslan was right. I knew what I had to do, and just because I wasn’t sure if I would succeed didn’t change the fact that it was necessary. The next step was clear. I only needed to find the courage to do it. 

“Lady Y/N?” I sat up in bed to see Magdrul just inside my open bedroom door. “It’s almost time.”

********

I didn’t hesitate outside the tent this time. Instead, I entered the tent just as confidently as I’d crossed the bridge. Achlosh, Adonis, and Magdrul trailed behind me. 

Peter and his entourage hadn’t arrived yet. There were three chairs placed on Peter’s side and only one on mine. I slid into it, resting my arms on the table, doing my best to stay loose and relaxed. 

“You’ve got this,” Adonis said, resting a hand on my shoulder. 

“And we’re with you every step of the way, Your Excellency,” Achlosh rumbled from my other side. Magdrul didn’t say anything, but I could’ve sworn his nose brushed my elbow before quickly retreating. 

Their support and comfort meant everything. 

These were the creatures I was charged with protecting. And I would do right by them. 

Without warning, the other side of the tent was pulled open, revealing the three sovereigns, accompanied again by Mr. Tumnus and General Oreius. I could’ve made a comment about the uneven number of accompaniments Peter had chosen to bring with him, but I kept my mouth shut. There were other battles to fight. 

Out of all three monarchs, only Queen Susan looked unchanged. King Edmund’s face held a sort of grim nature, tinted very slightly with hope. The two of them quickly took their seats on the two ends, leaving the one in the middle for their older brother. 

As Peter lowered himself into his seat, his uninjured hand went up to his neck to fiddle with the knot holding his other arm in a sling. His gaunt eyes roved over the three creatures behind me before settling onto my face, prompting me to begin. 

I took a moment to gather my thoughts. I would not be baited, I would not be rushed. I wasn’t a king’s mistress, I wasn’t a witch. I wasn’t a chambermaid or a queen. 

I was Y/N, the Lionhearted. 

I am with you.

I took a deep breath. “I trust everyone has been apprised of the events of last night, so I won’t waste our time saying what’s already been said.” 

Queen Susan’s glare intensified, and my lips started to quiver under her cynical scrutiny. 

This was it. The moment Aslan had mentioned. The moment when I needed to summon all my courage and blast forward, chasing nothing other than what was right. 

Or all will be lost. 

I folded my hands to hide their trembling. “Apparently, my bargaining chip has presented itself.” Out of ther corner of my eye, I saw King Edmund smile, and I knew he knew were this was going. “ I can lift the disease that has been plaguing the dryads of the Western Woods.”

“How?” Queen Susan asked. “Last night was an accident.”

“You’re right, it was.” I paused. “But only because I’ve been suppressing my magic out of fear instead of learning to control it. When I was a child, the hags taught me control, so they can do it again. If we succeed in restoring the dryads, I ask that our peoples unite as Narnians.”

“Three queens is too many for one nation,” Queen Susan butted in. 

Amusement kindled to life inside me. “I have no desire to be a queen.” I could’ve sworn I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Peter flinch. I chanced a look at him, but nothing in his demeanor suggested sadness or insult. “All I want is the right thing, and that is peace in Narnia.”

Queen Susan folded her arms, drawing my attention again. “But if peace in Narnia is the right thing, why won’t you just lift the disease anyway?”

I regarded her calmly. “Because I’m not sure everyone else here is willing to do the right thing too.”

A strangled sound came from Adonis. He quickly coughed a couple times, but none of us were fooled. 

He wasn’t the only one. King Edmund was clearly fighting a smirk, while Mr. Tumnus’s hand rose to cover his mouth, his eyes shining. The queen looked like she’d swallowed a snake.

She turned to the high king, who was staring. Not at her, but at my hands resting on the table. On the bandages on my left hand. 

“Peter?” King Edmund prompted.

Peter looked up, eyes thoughtfully searching my face. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find, for he nodded absentmindedly.  “I accept the terms.”

My heart soared, even as Queen Susan and General Oreius gave Peter confused looks. Mr. Tumnus and King Edmund broke into large grins, while I heard Adonis let out a quiet laugh of relief. 

Peter didn’t look at anyone else, his attention staying firmly on me. “You and your people are free to inhabit the deserted village close to here. My brother, as the Western Woods were entrusted to him by Aslan, will be the liaison between our peoples until such a time as you have rid this entire forest of disease. Once all the dryads are healed, I will send out an official and final pardon.” Peter took a deep breath. “Then you and your people will be welcome in Narnia.”

Queen Susan opened her mouth, but Peter cut her off. “That is my final word.” His eyes flitted to my face. “Is there anything else we need to address?”

I very nearly laughed at his question. The things calling for closure rested in between the high king and I like rubble from a demolished marble statue. 

There were apologies to be worded, feelings to be expressed, a relationship that needed clarifying. 

But this was not the place. 

“No, your majesty.” 

Peter nodded once more, then got up from his chair. “Then I believe it’s time to tell everyone of our deal. Lady Y/N, if you will.” He extended a hand towards me, and I wasted no time in taking it. He led me around the table and out of the tent. 

Both armies immediately stood at attention, clearly on edge.

Peter dropped my hand. “A peace treaty has been struck!” he boomed. 

Halfhearted cheers came from both sides, showing that the two armies were perhaps feeling just as conflicted as their leaders. But not even that was enough to dim the light in my chest at Peter’s words. 

The peace was official. 

Magdrul prodded my leg from behind. “Your army is waiting to celebrate with you,” he said quietly. 

I threw a glance at Peter, who was watching his own army, before nodding and walking back across the bridge towards the witch’s army. 

My army.

The relief hung in the air like a pleasant kind of fog. Many of the creatures in the army crossed their arms over their chests, a sign of honor as well as thanks while others bowed their heads. Adonis squeezed my shoulder just before Achlosh bent down to Goria, whispering in her ear. 

The tiny minotaur ran to me, shyly wrapping her arms around my legs as chuckles rose from everyone around me. I patted her back, overcome. She smiled up at me, her eyes wide and innocent, before scampering back to Achlosh. 

“Alright, enough of this,” I said fondly to everyone around me. “We have work to do.” 

The creatures disbanded, all walking back to the courtyard, returning to their posts. 

I started to follow them before slowing to a stop. I couldn’t help myself; I glanced back at the Narnian army. 

They’d already torn down the tent the meetings had taken place in, leaving the bridge empty. 

Most of the soldiers were already breaking camp. General Oreius stood with his arms folded, looking less than happy. But King Edmund slapped Peter on the back, the smile on the Just King’s face matching that of Mr. Tumnus, who was beside Oreius. King Edmund pulled Peter and Queen Susan into a group hug, and the three of them broke out into laughter, clearly relieved. 

The familiarity they had with each other made my heart ache a bit. I still didn’t know if I had any siblings or what happened to my father, but I knew I probably wouldn’t ever know. 

As they broke apart, Queen Susan and King Edmund walked further into their camp, their arms around each other. Peter, however, turned his head to look at me. 

Our eyes met, and it was like an electric shock coursed through my body. 

My feet started moving at the same time his did. 

Over Peter’s shoulder, I could see the Narnian soldiers pausing, watching us with varying degrees of interest and suspicion. They’d all either seen my relationship with Peter or heard of the magical chambermaid the high king showed interest in. I could tell they were weighing what they’d seen and heard, trying to figure out what they were seeing. 

I couldn’t imagine what the army behind me was doing, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. 

We met in the middle of the bridge, slowing to a stop with about five feet in between us. 

“How’s your arm?” I asked. 

Peter seemed to relax a little. “It’s broken, but I’ve had worse. How’s your hand?”

“Burnt, but I’ve had worse.”

He chuckled, his gaze dropping to the grass. 

Then his smile quickly fell. “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For what I’ve done.” A heavy sigh left his lips. “You were right. I was so blinded by my urges to rescue you, I didn’t stop and listen to what you were saying.”

I cocked my head, studying him. “You’ve changed your tune.”

“Last night…” Peter’s shoulder slumped. “If you’d run away from the dryad like I wanted, we never would’ve known that you could lift the disease, and I’d be dead. And if I hadn’t behaved poorly about your magic, maybe you wouldn’t’ve put on that bracelet and burned it off to save me.” 

Forgiveness is a powerful thing, the lion had said, right after he’d absolved me. Yet another power I held. I could bottle it up, keeping it close while fearing its power. Or…

I stepped forward, taking Peter’s hand in mine, causing him to look up. “I forgive you.”

A frown tugged at Peter’s lips. “You shouldn’t. I’ve been an ass.” I laughed. “No, I have been, truly. I tried to keep your memories from you, and now, more than ever, I know that,” his eyes roamed my face, like he was committing it to memory, “memories are precious.” 

I squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

His brows contorted. “Whatever for?”

“For changing.”

He was silent for a three count, a tinge of sadness growing in his face with every passing second. “I changed too late though, didn’t I?” I bit my lip, not knowing what to say. Peter nodded slowly, like that was the only answer he needed. “I want to give you the rest of your memories, but I don’t think any of the many people watching us right now would like it if we touched foreheads.”

“No, they wouldn’t.” My thoughts drifted to my dream last night. “I have a feeling it wouldn’t work anyways.”

A wrinkle formed in between Peter’s eyebrows. “Because…you’re angry at me again?”

“Because I was told that it’s time for me to live in the present and make my own choices.” I smiled slyly. “And the great lion always knows best.”

Peter’s mouth fell open. “You…you saw him? He spoke to you?”

I nodded. “In a dream.”

Peter shook his head, looking half amused, half irritated. “He’s not a tame lion,” he muttered. 

I didn’t know what that meant, but something told me Peter was saying it for his own sake. 

I wanted to say something more. I wanted to tell him about every moment of the past few days, talk about Gonin’s death, laugh about the absurdity of me leading an army, and discuss how best to remove the disease in the forest. I wanted to express my relief at the peace and my gratitude over his willingness to change.

And more than anything, I wanted to release the feelings that were building up on my tongue. 

But he no longer needed to know all those things, and saying them would make everything harder. 

I dropped Peter’s hand, letting my own fall to my side. “Travel safe, okay?”

Peter nodded. “If you need anything–”

“I’ll send a messenger.” 

He nodded slowly. 

I recognized the emotions swimming in his eyes as the ones ricocheting through me. 

Sadness. Reluctance. And above all, regret. 

With great effort, I turned my back to the king and rejoined my people in the courtyard. 

They all smiled as I walked past, and, despite the sudden, leaden weight of my heart, I smiled back. 

I was sure there were questions about what was next, but for the moment, I needed privacy, so I secluded myself away in my bedroom. 

Standing on the balcony, I watched as the Narnians finished breaking camp. 

For all my fighting in the past few days, never did I realize I wouldn’t be returning to Cair Paravel. My bed in the maids’ chambers would be empty, my meager and meaningless possessions left abandoned. I wouldn’t be returning to tell Mrs. Dolie of all that had happened, nor would I be explaining anything to the household mistress. 

In fact, I might never again clean a dish, make a bed, wash clothes that didn’t belong to me. That just wasn’t my role anymore. 

“My lady,” said a voice, and I turned to see Magdrul coming inside my room. “You were right. You going to meet the high king did lead to the saving of your people.”

I hummed. 

Magdrul stood beside me. “My lady, I want to apologize. I tried to stand in your way, even when I had no right to.”

I glanced down at the wolf, whose tail was drooping. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You were acting out of loyalty, and your ingenuity with how I could get out of the castle is something I’ll need if I’m really going to help the dryads of these woods.”

Magdrul smiled. “Whatever I can do to aid you, my lady, I will.”

“Good.” I resumed my previous position, staring out at the Narnians. They’d started walking back into the forest, heading in the direction of Cair Paravel. And heading the procession was Peter, astride his horse. 

We’d said our goodbyes, and yet it was undeniable that a part of my heart was leaving with him. If I was my old self, I would’ve been shedding tears right now. But as Peter had changed, I had as well, too quickly for our love to catch up. 

The finality of it all, of watching Peter ride away without knowing when I would see him again, made my chest ache. These past few days, my relationship with Peter hadn’t been the same, but just as I never anticipated I wouldn’t return to Cair Paravel, I never anticipated I would be separated from him.

I knew I would see him again, but that wasn’t what was making me sad, was it?

No, it was the knowledge that it would never again be the same. 

Never again would we be in companionable silence while I cleaned his study. 

Never again would Peter sneak into the kitchen for a chance to see me and steal me away from my chores. 

Never again would we run into each other in our dreams, completely isolated in a world made up of our own memories and desires. 

“You really love him,” Magdrul said softly, “don’t you?”

My eyes didn’t budge from Peter. I didn’t reply, because I didn’t need to. Magdrul already knew. 

********

Achlosh clip-clopped his way over to my horse. “My lady, Cair Paravel is just around the next corner.”

“Thank you, Achlosh.” Message delivered, Achlosh returned to his previous position beside Goria, who’d grown nearly a foot taller over the past year. I took a deep breath, my hands squeezing the reins as if I could use them to leash my nerves.

Adonis glanced over at me. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” I said defensively. 

The centaur just laughed. “I’ve known you for too long to believe that.”

“I’ve had a while to prepare for this day, give me some credit.”

The centaur’s silence told me he hadn’t missed the underlying charge in that statement. 

I couldn’t help looking around at the woods. They all seemed unchanged from when Peter and I had walked through them on our way to the market for pears. 

“You held up your part of the bargain,” Adonis said finally. “This is them holding up theirs.”

“I know,” I replied. “I’m not worried, I’m just–”

“Nervous,” Adonis finished. 

I cut him a glare, and his answering guffaw was unfettered and free. “It’s just strange to be back,” I confessed. “I left as a chambermaid, and I’m returning as what?”

“A queen in everything but name.” 

I shook my head. “Narnia doesn’t need another queen.”

“Maybe not. But it certainly needs you.” Adonis smiled shrewdly. “And I can think of a certain king who needs you too.”

“Well, what about you?” I retorted, my cheeks red. “Won’t your wife and son be relieved to be back to your village instead of living in the shadow of the witch’s castle?”

Adonis snorted. “My wife will be happy to be back, but Axiel has decided he wants to be a minotaur when he grows up.”

I laughed loudly. “He’s going to be very disappointed to find out he can’t change species.”

We rounded the corner, and my laughter died in my throat. The sight of the gates of Cair Paravel sent a new wave of nerves through me. 

“Breathe,” Adonis said quietly, and I obediently took in a breath. 

Considering I’d spent the last year in the witch’s castle—which was barely half the size of Cair Paravel—the castle walls seemed bigger and grander than they had before. The large gates were open, and a crowd stood outside the palace. 

I recognized the four kings and queens at the front of the crowd, standing as evenly placed as their thrones. A few of their advisors, including Mr. Tumnus and General Oreius, stood behind them. The rest of the throng must’ve been common Narnians desiring to witness this historic event. 

My heart flipped anxiously in my chest as we drew closer. 

Peter’s face became more distinct as we got closer, and my heart flipped as I gazed upon the familiar features I’d often dreamed of in the past year. In the beginning, I’d been juvenile to think they were shared. Now I knew it had only been my mind trying to trick my foolhardy heart, because while Peter looked mostly the same, there was a different bearing to him now. 

A more mature bearing. 

“Halt!” Achlosh shouted, and the whole army came to a stop. 

I dismounted and shakily approached the kings and queens.

Queen Lucy was bouncing in place, obviously excited to see me again. 

King Edmund grinned at me, and I thanked Aslan that I’d gotten the chance to work with him on the restoration of the Western Woods. No one understood redemption like he did.

Queen Susan looked surprisingly calm. I suppose she had had a year to cool off after our somewhat disastrous peace treaty meeting.

And Peter.

Peter wasn’t smiling, but there was a soft shine in his eyes. 

“High King Peter,” I said, inclining my head. Magdrul had impressed upon me the importance of greeting Peter as an equal worthy of respect, not treating him as a superior worthy of reverence. As uncomfortable as it felt, I understood the message it sent about my peoples’ place among the rest of Narnia.

“Lady Y/N,” Peter greeted. “Shall we?” He led the way, his siblings following into step beside him, leaving me to lead my army behind. 

Walking the halls of the castle again would’ve been strange enough, but walking through them as a valued guest instead of a servant felt like a hallucination. 

I’d come a long way in a year. 

The four monarchs led me to the throne room, where it seemed all of Narnia waited for this historic moment. 

The four kings and queens took their spots, standing just in front of their thrones, all facing me. 

“Lady Y/N,” Peter boomed in his kingly voice, drawing all eyes. “You have fulfilled your end of the bargain that was struck a year ago. All the dryads of the Western Woods have been restored. I know I speak for all of us,” Peter’s gaze swept the room, resting on all the inhabitants, “when I say you have our gratitude.”

I half-expected some grumbling to come from his subjects, but they remained silent, a sure sign that progress had been made in this castle as well as in the Western Woods. I momentarily wondered what Peter had been saying and doing to prepare his subjects for this day. 

“It is now my turn to uphold the conditions.” Peter took a deep breath. “I hereby pardon all of the creatures who served tirelessly at your side to end the illness of the woods. As of today, they are, once again, true Narnians.”

Clamor burst through the room, and for a moment, I worried it was protesting and looked around the room. 

All of the Narnians gathered were cheering. Applauding. Even some of the creatures of what was formerly my army were making noise, smiling at me and the king behind me. 

Harmony. 

The harmony I’d worked for and fought for and sacrificed for, again and again. It was here. 

I faced Peter once again, not capable of hiding the broad smile across my face. 

And Peter smiled back. It was not a smile of exhibition or politeness. It was not the high king’s smile. 

It was Peter’s smile.

Peter raised his hand, and the Narnians quieted. He stepped forward, eyes trained on me. “Lady Y/N, you have conducted yourself with grace and wisdom, even in the face of opposition and trial.” Tears pricked my eyes, and Peter nodded softly, as if he somehow knew exactly how I felt. “You showed tenacity, far beyond what anyone could expect of you and somehow retained compassion despite all you’ve faced.” He grinned, lifting his eyes to the subjects in the room. “There is a nickname for Lady Y/N that has surfaced in the past year, and I think it a fitting tribute.” 

Another cheer rose through the room, and I had to turn my face to the floor to regain a hold on my expression. 

I knew exactly what he was talking about, and judging by the nods of everyone around me, they did too. 

I didn’t know how it happened, because I didn’t tell anyone of the title Aslan had given me, but the title had naturally surfaced, as if Aslan himself whispered it into the ears of those around me. 

“My siblings and I would be honored, Lady Y/N, if you would join our council.”

I looked up, shocked. But all four monarchs smiled at me, even Queen Susan, showcasing the truth of Peter’s words. 

“The honor is mine,” I replied, placing a hand over my chest. “I would be glad to accept.”

The resulting cheer was so deafening, I was surprised the windows didn’t shatter. 

Peter clapped his hands, looking gleeful. “Then it’s settled. Now, onto the feast!”

The room burst into activity as the servants rushed forward, bringing tables and chairs in.

Arms from behind wrapped around me, and I was enveloped in the comforting smell of flour and soup. 

“Mrs. Dolie,” I said softly, turning in the embrace to look at the wise woman’s face. 

“You did it, dearie.” She pet my head. “You found your way.” 

I hugged her tightly, a cascade of emotions coursing through me. 

She patted my back and departed for the kitchens, which were sure to be chaotic with the feast that was about to come. 

I glanced around the room, finding it difficult to keep at bay the tears of happiness and relief.

Queen Susan and the household mistress stood together, clearly discussing the organization of the tables and seats. Seeing my old mistress sent a rush of affection through me…as well as a strange urge to go grab a mop. 

King Edmund talked with Magdrul, who was sandwiched between a fox and a griffin, looking spectacularly uncomfortable. 

Adonis sat with his wife, deep in discussion with Queen Lucy and Mr. Tumnus while Axiel and Goria ran around with a few baby satyrs and talking mice, playing some form of tag. As I watched, Achlosh approached Queen Lucy, and the queen’s eyes sparkled as the minotaur awkwardly bowed. 

Out of all the futures I’d imagined, the reality tasted sweeter. 

Because I sat there, surrounded by a reunited people, not as a chambermaid and not as a queen. Not cowering as someone broken or nameless, but shining as my truest self, brighter than any star.

Y/N.

The Lionhearted. 

Peter sat on his throne, surveying the room with a satisfaction mirroring mine. And when his eyes met mine, a smile formed on my face matching his. 

********

I lay in my bed, staring up at the ceiling of the guest chamber I’d been placed in—a room I’d actually cleaned many times over. 

My mind couldn’t relax. The excitement of the day certainly didn’t lend itself to resting, but that couldn’t be the only reason sleep evaded me…

Finally giving up, I got out of bed, pulling a robe over my nightgown. I went to put my slippers on before stopping. I reached past the slippers and pulled on a pair of sandals instead. Then, opening the door, I slipped out of my room. 

As I strolled through the dark passageways of the castle, I started reliving my past as a chambermaid. I never felt like I truly belonged in this castle, and being involved with a king only made me feel even more egregiously out of place.

I’d had no inkling of the journey I was on, the things I was on the precipice of learning about myself and my past. Now here I was, on the other end. Less innocent, but better. Wiser. Stronger. More certain. 

When I turned the corner, the guard—one I’d never before seen standing watch over the turret—bowed. “My lady.” I dipped my head in respect. My heart pounded faster and faster with every stair I climbed, as if it knew something I didn’t. Halfway up, I hesitated. 

But even as I slowed to a stop, Aslan’s words from a year ago replayed in my head. 

There will be a moment. In that moment, you must take courage and stay your course. 

With a renewed vigor, I resumed climbing. 

Peter was already there, standing at the edge of the turret with his back to me, looking out over the water. I couldn’t help noticing the sword secured to his side. Clearly, he’d had enough of being caught without it. 

I joined him at the edge, resting my hands on the railing. 

He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t say anything. 

We didn’t need to.

We couldn’t’ve made it work a year ago, bruised as we were. We hadn’t finished growing into ourselves and addressing our responsibilities. One of us would’ve had to compromise ourselves for the other, and that would’ve bred discontent. 

I gazed out at the starry night, looking over the peaceful ocean. If I strained my ears, I could hear the surf breaking on the beach we’d once spent a day on. 

Peter’s hand tentatively slid across the stone, the side of his pinky brushing mine, which still bore the burn scars from the flame back in the Western Woods. He stayed there, allowing me to make a decision. 

I exhaled, and ever so slowly flipped my hand over, allowing Peter to lace his fingers through mine. 

Because if there was anything I’d learned in life?

Bruises heal.

-

BEWARE, SAPPY FEELINGS TO FOLLOW

I can’t believe this is the last part. No more jumping out of bed when I should be sleeping and frantically copying down the line of dialogue from Peter that just came to mind. No more crying over the dream where the main character meets Aslan. And no more worrying about whether this ending is the right one. 

All good things have to come to an end, and this is it. 

Now excuse me while I go watch the Narnia movies and cry. 

Endless thanks to @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories​ for giving me the opportunity to finish Bruises, to @writing-on-the-wahl​ for being my fairy godmother and reading every part multiple times before I post it, and to all of you for commenting, reblogging, and sending sweet messages!

Here’s a bonus scene/epilogue for Bruises!

Check out my masterlist for more works!

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers​

Bruises tag list:

@itsnottilly @sadgirlnumber92899 @sunny-theartist @fortheloveofaqueenfan @emala @leafsmindpalace @thepolywrites @janesofia7 @sunshine-and-riverwater @fluffy-canada-pancakes @rebel4fandom @the-internet-ruined-me @happyvitamin @idk-whatamidoinglmao @jakeshuneybby @idk-whatamidoinglmao @multifandomrandomgirl @felicityroth​ @lover4jane @psycho-magnotheric-slime

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ when i'm alone ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by @lokotrona11 ˚₊ ⊹

ft. peter pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ peter meets a bookworm who makes life in london a bit more bearable┊1.3k words (prt two coming soon)

setting: england after the golden age contains: exposition, first meetings, strangers to friends, minor blood & injury & mentions of fights

➤ author's note: the very first narnia request i received!! there will be a part two that’s further into their relationship and includes more of the request, so please look forward to that (it will be better than this one, trust me, i just thought this meeting would be cute)!

to say adjusting to life back in england was difficult would be an understatement. although it was nice to see his mother again and the familiar landscape of where he grew up, it doesn’t change the fact that it was a complete accident as a result of them exploring during a hunt and going back towards the wardrobe’s tunnel in nostalgic curiosity. all of the siblings would be lying if they said that home had the same magic spark that narnia did with the gray skies and the nauseous smell of pollution, but at least they had the wonders of modern technology here like lightbulbs rather than wax candles. it was even a shock for them to remember that they are no longer the only humans in the world, that animals didn’t talk anymore, and that mythical creatures like centaurs and griffins were only real in fiction. however, the most difficult change for peter by far was the fact that he was no longer the king of a fantastical land, instead he was now some nineteen-year-old boy who wasn’t taken seriously and was often told to go off and do literally anything else that isn’t meddling in adult affairs. it’s common knowledge that he was always very mature for his age since he’s constantly looking out for the younger ones, but it was such a drastic change for him to already be acting like he was in charge of everyone after just a few weeks in the countryside and even wondered what the eccentric professor must have taught him for him to come back acting all high and mighty.

he’s tried so hard to go back to being a normal boy, yet he struggles to hide the regality in the way he acts and the air of superiority he holds. the other former royals are used to his behavior even before being crowned, but soon he found himself isolated from others his age no matter how close they were previously and getting into physical fights with anyone crosses him. he was no longer used to holding his head low when disrespected and now that he’s had a taste for being held in high esteem, he would no longer tolerate it and was now known as a troublesome person whom most people steered clear of.

although his family was concerned for him, peter didn’t seem to have cared less about how quickly his reputation plummeted and he spent his days as a loner. he often found himself exploring the city’s largest library instead of playing sports or getting a job since no one wanted to hire a rebel, reading through overly complicated books about portals and other dimensions. he knew that science wouldn’t be able to explain the phenomenon that he experienced since it was magic, but studying up on the subject made him feel a little bit better that there were other people around the world exploring the subject.

the entire section dedicated to this field of knowledge was in a far corner quite a ways from the entrance, a dusty little space a tad bit darker than everywhere else, and never had a soul near it which made it the perfect place for him to brood and be alone for the most part. the only other person he saw there occasionally was you, someone he only saw through passing within school hallways and heard about receiving academic prizes all the time. while classes were out, he fully believed you had already read all the books in the building. you were there from the moment the sign was flipped to “open” until the moment the librarian told you it was closing time, never thoughtlessly roaming around since you always walked with purpose knowing exactly what you were looking for, and often seen carrying books that towered over your head threatening to tilt over.

despite seeing you every single day, he never really had the chance to talk to you. you seemed so… untouchable… like you didn’t have the time or place to spare for people who weren’t in your schedule. he wonders if he used to appear like that to others back in narnia when he was rarely approached by anyone who wasn’t one of his siblings, but at least he had the excuse of being a high monarch— what was yours? it was the first time he found himself curious and thinking about something else that wasn’t his former life.

turns out, peter’s chance came to him when he least expected it and when he was in his most vulnerable state: freshly bruised and cut up after a fight with a gang of middle schoolers over stepped-on toes. he’s landed himself in this situation countless of times yet still never learns his lesson to leave it alone before it escalates. fortunately, he got to witness the satisfying conclusion of the leader getting dragged away by his mother, but he was really the one with the egg on his face when he barely managed to get in a single punch while he ended up with a busted lip. to say he was pissed off was an understatement, but frankly, emotions that weren’t anger or longing didn’t come to him much anymore. he didn’t want to get a scolding from his family about he should have been more careful again so he wandered back into the library to take care of himself in his usual corner, unwittingly catching your eye on his way and leading you to him.

neither of you said anything when you walked up to him with a first-aid kit in hand as you used your eyes to ask for permission to patch him up and he simply nodded to grant it, the silence being more tense than awkward. you wrapped bandages around his aching knuckles, applied ointment to his wounds, and uttered nothing but a “hold still” when he hissed in response to the sharp pain of hydrogen peroxide on his lip. he didn’t even feel your skin against his, just feather-light touches that tickled him slightly as he intently looked at you while you were focused. he’s never seen you up close before so he took the opportunity to study your features, slowly realizing that he developed a crush on you at some point and immediately straightening his posture to act like he wasn’t staring when you glanced back at him.

“you’re… the guy who’s always reading about different dimensions, right? your name is... peter?”

“yeah… that’s me.” he's surprised that you knew anything about him at all, much less his name and the books he was reading. considering that you were always in your own little world, it meant that you paid more attention to your surroundings than he originally thought.

“have you visited any other realms lately?” your tone was serious, but the absurdity of the question made it sound like a joke.

“you wouldn’t believe me, it sounds ridiculous.”

“really? i’ve heard all kinds of tales, i doubt it would be even close to the worst one.” you weren’t sure why you were the first to start the conversation when you never cared for your peers or what they had to say before.

“well… it all started when we left for the countryside and my youngest sister wanted to play hide and seek…” he wasn’t sure why he was telling you about the wardrobe and narnia when he refused to open up about it to anyone other than his siblings, but it felt right to do it. at best, you’ll believe him and he’ll have someone to talk to. at worst, a cute girl will think that he’s crazy.

neither of you were quite sure about the reasons behind this conversion, but perhaps there didn’t need to be one as long as it felt like the right thing to do.

request [ I didn't find your requests so I'm writing to you here 😅 I wanted to ask Peter falling in love with a bookworm (they only see each other in the library in the last hallway and she's shy and all that) (in the second movie) in London, as if she were the one capable of removing his anger for a while and Peter felt calm with that little girl. (If you write smut with +18 at the end or just fluffy, whatever you choose) ]