#peter.pan.imagine

[straightillmorning]

Anarchy PT. 1

REQUEST: Can you do one where the reader is dating Pan and gets away with a lot of things/ pushes her luck with him a lot. But one day things get out of hand and she gets hurt — Anonymous You always tested your limits with Pan because you knew he would never hurt you but one day you test your limits to far and end up in danger. Pan starts freaking out because he can't find you. Fluff or smut at the end. Please — Anonymous A/N: I’ll be combining the two requests above. Sorry there’s no GIF or photo, I’m not on my own computer right now! FANDOM: OUAT PAIRING: Peter Pan x Reader RATING: non-E TITLE: Anarchy WORD COUNT:

Peter woke up as early as usual. Also as usual, you would be sleeping next to him, but that day you weren’t. He sighed, assuming you had fallen asleep somewhere else in camp, usually that would be by the fire. You were a big explorer, and because Peter had already been everywhere, you ended up going alone. Even thought that might be dangerous he let you go off alone after he either got tired of your whining, or you left without him knowing. Peter had begun to trust your navigation and survival skills after time, since you always got back just fine and when promised, with the occasional slip.

He got out of his tent, looking around for you. Every time he didn’t find you somewhere he got a bit nervous, but eventually did find you.

“God damn it, Y/N, where are you?” he mumbled as he searched through the camp.

“Looking for Y/N again?” Peter heard Felix ask, who just crawled out of his tent. “Tell me again, won’t you, is she your girlfriend or your dog?”

“Shut up, Felix,” Peter said, sitting down.

“She doesn’t know the island, you shouldn’t let her go alone like that,” Felix began lecturing, again. “I’m telling you, one of these days you’ll find her dead.”

Peter looked at him, annoyed at his tone.

“Sorry, but it’s true.”

He knew it was true. But every time you asked to go somewhere, you found some good reason for him to let you.

“Do you want me to go look for her?” Felix asked.

“No, no, I’ll go. She can’t be far,” Peter sighed, getting up and heading out. You’d told him she was going to Pixie Hollow, she should at least be there.

He kept wondering why he didn’t go with you; he liked Pixie Hollow. It was a forest atop the tallest mountain on the island, and the trees had the most pixie flowers in the realm of Neverland. It was the most beautiful at night, when the moon shone a light on the flowers and their glow was the brightest.

Peter landed right in the middle of the forest. It wasn’t a very large area, but there were lots of caves, valleys and hills, ponds and cliffs.

He called your name a few times, his voice echoed off into the distance, but no one answered. He tried to breathe steady, but his heart was still racing. He walked about, not hearing or seeing anything, yet.

A few moments after frantically turning every stone in the forest, Peter saw a shadow flicker past him in the distance. It went by so fast he couldn’t tell if it was even attached to a person. He took a few steps back, unaware there was a stone in his path, and he tripped. He looked around, seeing a little cave he hadn’t spotted before. It was dark, but someone was in it.

“Peter?” a faint and scared voice asked. “Come, quickly, before they see you!”

You grabbed his arm and began pulling him into the cave, pulling your legs back against your chest and turned to him.

“Y/N, who?” he asked, now as frantically as yourself.

“I don’t know... I was walking around last night, and then someone started shooting fucking arrows at me! There’s five or six of them, maybe more,” you said.

“What?” he was astonished, he thought he knew everyone on the island, his boys were supposed to be the only ones here... There was the occasional group of pirates, but he couldn’t have missed them coming to the island.

“I picked up one of the arrows, they have some kind of carvings on them, I kept them in case you found me. You know what they are?” you asked, handing him the arrow on the ground next to you. Peter took it, and ran his fingers over the carvings, examining the figures carefully. He didn’t look like he had any idea what they were.

“How can you not know who these bastards are?” you snapped. He was quiet for a bit, still looking at the arrow.

“Calm down, Y/N, I’m not God,” he said snapped back. “You’re the one who came out here.”

The only explanation he had for these people was that they must’ve come with a new group of boys and then strayed. Peter sometimes brought so many boys he couldn’t keep track of them all.

“I think they might be Lost Boys.”

[straightillmorning]

But, She's So Pretty PT. 2

REQUEST: — A/N: Happy (late (like really late)) Christmas/Hanukkah/Eid/Yule/Just December to all of you! FANDOM: OUAT PAIRING: Peter x Reader RATING: E, swearing TITLE: But, She’s So Pretty

You were sitting on your bed with your legs crossed, reading. Ever since you left Neverland you hadn’t been able to think about anything else. And by that you meant Wendy. That bitch had taken everything from you, which was your best friend and home. You’d only been back a couple of days, and the fact that Peter hadn’t come to get you, meant he didn’t care.

You got out of bed, but halfway to the kitchen you heard a knock at the door. Your family wasn’t going to be home for a while, so it wasn’t them…

You went to open the door, and scoffed—even though you were more than delighted to see him. Still, you weren’t going to let him get off the hook. “Okay first off, what the fuck are you wearing, and second, get out of my sight, Peter” you said.

“What? They’re jeans and—and you think it was easy finding a store open on Christmas Eve?” he shot back. “Also you owe me like, a hundred something. I can’t remember the currency of this realm.”

“You won’t need my money,” you pointed out.

“No, but the store I stole these clothes from will,” he said.

“Leave,” you commanded.

He grinned. “It’s nice to see you too.”

“Is your girlfriend here with you?” you asked. Peter walked past you into the house. He took off his jacket and left it on the floor as he fell onto the couch.

“No, she’s in Neverland,” he said.

You made a disgusted expression. “Isn’t she twelve?”

“She’s our age,” Peter said, sitting up and inviting you next to him.

“Yeah, when we were twelve,” you laughed as you closed the door, only walking toward him, not sitting down. 

You wanted to hug him tight, and go back home and for everything to be normal again, but was wasn’t really a choice, was it?

“I thought you had a family,” he said, snapping you out of the fantasy of Neverland, looking around the room. “It’s Christmas.”

“They’re out,” you said. “What do you want?” 

You knew what you wanted; your best friend back. But all he seemed to want was some girl. Never in the years that you’d been friends, had anything ever come between you except for each other.

“I want you to come back home,” he said, without hesitation.

You scoffed, again, stubbornly holding onto your bitter anger.

"Oh, won't you get over it, already!” he snapped, getting up. “I was only punishing you for being such a bitch to Wendy," Peter said, as if it was completely justified. You now fully remembered just how angry with him you were. 

“Speaking of, why were you so nice to her, but so mean to me?” you asked, crossing your arms. Peter sighed, and unfolded your arms right away. 

“You know I have authority issues, don’t do that, it makes you all... authoritative,” he said, and you wanted to laugh, but didn’t. You kept a cold expression. “I wasn’t like I usually am with her because you've taught me stuff. Like, not to be mean to people when you first meet them. Apparently they don’t like someone being mean to them when they’re already scared.”

You rolled your eyes. 

“She’s also really pretty,” he said. “I’m sorry. You also taught me to forgive people, so...” he said, raising a brow, waiting for you to say something. 

You rolled your eyes again, and he nudged your arm. “Stop that, your eyes are gonna fall out.”

You couldn’t help but smile, and you couldn’t be angry with him anymore. “Fine! I forgive you,” you said. “Idiot.”

“I love you too,” he chuckled. 

[straightillmorning]

True Love's Kiss PT. 3

REQUEST: — A/N: PT. 1, PT. 2 FANDOM: 
OUAT PAIRING: Peter Pan x Reader
  RATING: 
E TITLE: True Love’s Kiss 
 WORD COUNT: 1061

The group was slowly beginning to be ready with lunch, and you got up. Walking to the trash can and the table where the trays and plates were meant to go, you happened to look back at your friends, who were still talking. And being the klutz you were, you ran right into someone, dropping your tray with a rattle. Your friends looked toward the noise, and seeing it was you they began applauding and cheering.

"Thanks, guys, really not necessary," you said, picking up your tray before the stranger could. He straightened up and cleared his throat. "Sorry, I'm so sorry," you laughed, and you looked up. The first thing you noticed, were the three scratch marks on his left cheek, like a dog's claws dug into his skin.

"Me too, again," he said and you recognized him as the boy from a few weeks ago. You unconsciously backed up a step, and he looked away. He began walking back, and you suddenly felt bad. Those scratches looked nasty and you ran after him. He was walking along the corridor and you stopped, not knowing what to call him.

“Hey,” you yelled after him. Immediately upon hearing your voice he stopped. You hesitated going after him that second. The corridor was empty, and you couldn’t help but feel that same fear creep in as when you last saw him. He waited a few seconds before actually looking at you. 

“Yeah?” he said, turning around. You suddenly had no idea what to say when he looked into your eyes. It was crazy and it made no sense, but you felt like you’d met him before, before he kissed you. 

“Why did you—” you broke off mid-sentence. He observed your expression that was a mix of fear and intrigue and cautiously stepped toward you.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he dared. 

“Try me,” you said, looking deeper into his green eyes, as if trying to look for answers for why you felt this way about this stranger. He smiled a small smile.

“Call me crazy if you like, but we met in Storybrooke—that’s in Maine—and we... I... There was a curse cast on the town and you and Emma fled to save yourselves from being cursed and not even know it,” he said, rushing through the last words. Looking at his expression, he expected you to laugh at him, but for some reason you didn’t. Of course it sounded crazy, but you only looked at his guilty face as his gaze dropped to the floor. “I know you don’t remember who you are, but I do.”

“Who’s that?” you asked, like in a trance. His lips curved into a smile as he looked at you. He thought of what to say. 

“You are the first person I could ever love,” he answered a while later. “And although I told myself Neverland was my home, it never was. As corny as it sounds, you were my home. You made me feel safe and loved. And the fact that the kiss didn’t work, tells me that’s not how you feel about me at all.”

You didn’t believe what you were about to do or why the hell you would think that would make this situation any less strange, but it felt like the right thing to do, for some reason. You gently placed the back of your hand on his cheek where you’d hurt him. Tracing along the marks you left on him and he glanced up, and then you pulled his face close to yours. Your lips touched his softly at first, then, something happened and you deepened the kiss. Images, like memories flashed through your mind, so fast you couldn’t make them out as individuals. You remembered small bits and pieces, kisses traced down your body, dark nights spent laid in bed, sneaking around so Emma didn’t hear you bringing him home, and it wasn’t just memories now, but feelings. In one second you felt feelings worth of years, so intensely you felt as if you were going to faint. It was him, the memories, they were of him. You tried your hardest to fish for a name, Emma, Regina, Henry, Snow White, Rumplestiltskin, all those names and their faces flashed before your mind’s eye. But there was no boy, the memory of his name and face were buried deep within your memory. Who are you? Then, as if lighting had hit you, so did his name. Peter, Peter Pan.

You pulled away from him, having to catch your breath. You looked at his face, millimetres away from yours and you let out your breath in pure joy. “Peter,” you said, a mix of a laugh and a cry. His eyes began darting across your face in shock and you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. It took him a while to process, to wonder if he was only dreaming. 

“Y/N?” he spoke quietly into your hair and you laughed again. He held you close and you thought you were going to cry. Oh, how you’d missed him. Of course, you didn’t know you had, but while you lived in New York with Emma, there had been something missing. You had been missing. “Are you serious?” he asked, hugging you tighter. You let go of him slowly. 

“I am,” you confirmed. “Sorry, about your face,” you added with a bit of amusement. He chuckled, pulling you closer.

“I can’t believe this,” he said, pulling away to see your face. "Have you any idea how long I looked for you in this city, filled with so many people?”

“How did you find me?”

Peter smiled, “Well, I couldn’t exactly just ask: 'Hi, I’m looking for a beautiful girl', could I?” he laughed, you did too. “I figured Emma put you in school, that narrowed the search down a little.”

“I missed you,” you said. “I mean, I know I couldn’t miss you, but now that I think of spending what, a year, without you I feel all that longing now...” you tried your best to explain the strange feelings inside you. Peter just smiled, touching your face—the feeling you’d missed—and he brushed a few hairs behind your ear. 

“I do love you too,” you whispered, right before his lips touched yours once more. 

[straightillmorning]

Just Mine PT. 1

REQUEST: You have been good friends with a lost boy and he decided to try and do things to you only Pan is allowed. You don't tell Pan because you know he will get mad but he finds out anyways. Angry jealous smut at end ;) — Anonymous, Tumblr A/N: sorry sweetie, i forgot about the whole “you know he will get mad” part while writing and changing it would’ve thrown off the course of the imagine, i hope you still like it! man you guys are dirty asf im reading these requests like ... huuuh! but, i think im dirtier so prepare yourself also, gonna post this in a few parts FANDOM: OUAT PAIRING: Peter x Reader RATING: non-E, smut, jealousy, ownership, tinsy bit of degrading TITLE: Just Mine

You and James had been friends since he had arrived. It wasn’t long ago, but you had grown close. You’d expected it, so it didn’t frighten you or come as a surprise when he kissed you the other night. He was so different from Peter. He was dark—unlike Peter, with his golden hair and fair skin—and kind and sweet—unlike Peter as well, who was only nice when he wanted something and even then, rarely. 

You two had been sitting down at night, talking. He suddenly had gently touched your knee, and you’d looked up at his deep brown eyes gazing into yours. The second your eyes locked he leaned in toward you. You hadn’t hesitated kissing him back for even a millisecond—you and Peter hadn’t been exclusive, so you thought, what was the harm? Nothing, right? You thought wrong. 

Sooner than later Peter found out, and he wasn’t happy about it. Although you had been with him—well, not with him—for quite a long time now, he had never said you were his girlfriend, so you were as confused as anyone when he confronted you. 

“I hear you’ve been fooling around with James,” he said, with a smile that didn’t send happy vibes. 

You hesitated. “No, I’ve been fooling around with you, James and I kissed once,” you corrected him. 

Peter chuckled, furrowing his brows. “I don’t think you’ve understood. Let’s go and talk about this in private, okay?”

Without listening to your response, he began walking away. You followed him back to your little cottage a little off the camp. He’d given you your own space to just be and relax in. Away from the fuss, with even running water so you could bathe in private. 

“What do we have to talk about?” you asked, closing the door behind yourself. He turned around to look at you, with an expression of surprise. 

“How about the fact you kissed someone else?” he suggested. 

“What's to talk about?” you asked. “So we kissed, once, it’s really none of your business.”

He raised an eyebrow half in amusement and half in boiling anger. He stepped closer to you, looking at you up and down like men would a woman a hundred years ago, with despise. 

“Like I said, I don't think you’ve understood,” he repeated. “You don’t kiss other boys.”

“I’m not your girlfriend,” you said, feeling your heart beating faster at the point of saying that. 

“Girlfriend?” he said, almost mockingly. “I never said that.”

You shook your head in confusion, about open your mouth, but he answered before you could ask what he had meant by that. He said: “You’re not my girlfriend, you’re... just mine. It’s not only dirty talk, love, I mean it.”

“But—”

“I don’t do girlfriend and boyfriend,” he interrupted you. “Take it or leave it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Like mentioned, you two had been ‘together’ for a while—you didn’t know exactly how long, but it felt like a long, long while—and you had never reevaluated your feelings for him. Did you like him? Were you infatuated? In love?

“Do you need time to think?” he asked, interrupting your thoughts this time. He took a slow step toward the door, you caught your breath. 

"No,” you said, shaking your head. Peter stopped, and smiled. “Well?” he asked with his eyes.

“I’ll take it,” you said, cautiously looking up at him. He looked back at you, you could tell he had a plan as to what to do with and to you. 

“Good. Then why don’t you get down on your knees and say you’re sorry,” he said. You swallowed hard, noticing you were barely breathing, your lungs were frozen. You looked into his eyes, he was waiting for you to do as you were told. “Go on.”

You hesitantly bent your knees and sat on your heels, slowly raising your eyes to look at his. This wasn’t your first time, so you knew to put your hands neatly on your thighs. This was a practice meant to keep you in line, to remember your place. 

You were small, and helpless, not just because of the strength comparison, but because of your mindset. You felt like prey, at the end of the hunt, just, waiting for the kill.

“I’m sorry,” you said, softly. “I won’t do it again.”

“Good,” he said. He looked at you for a few seconds, until he crouched down to your level. He looked at you with a kind smile, swiping some hair from your face, running his fingers through the ends. “Get up,” he said quietly. His expression and tone of voice weren’t angry, but he had a way with manipulating the outside appearance of his true mood, it wasn’t to be believed.

[straightillmorning]

But, She’s So Pretty PT. 1

REQUEST: Yay! Can i have one where Peter x reader are bestfriends and then suddenly Wendy comes on the island and he forgets about her so a bit so se decides to go home which makes him angry but have a cute ending to it (-:  — mikaeeela_, on Wattpad A/N: Sorry this is late! I’ll be posting this imagine in two parts. FANDOM: OUAT PAIRING: Peter x Reader  RATING: E, swearing WORD COUNT: 533 TITLE: But, She’s So Pretty

You and Peter were returning to camp after he thought someone had entered the island.

“Wait!” you said, out of breath. “It’s probably just a kid!”

He was silent for a moment, and then stopped, just by the entrance to camp. “No. Well, it is, just not a boy.”

“What?” you exclaimed, bumping into him due to his abrupt stop. You looked over, and saw all the boys in a bunch, surrounding her probably. You and Peter walked toward everyone and he pushed through into the middle. You followed him eagerly and there was a girl there. She looked frightened and confused, just like you when you first arrived.

“What the actual fuck?” you said, nudging Peter, who then shot you a look, the one that said: “Shut up!”

“What's your name?” he said, turning his look on her. She stepped back in fear, looking around. “Oh no, no, don’t be scared, it’s alright.”

You looked at him, narrowing your eyes. He was just awful to you when you first arrived. Why did she get nice-Peter right away?

“Are you mute?" you snapped. “What is your name?” you said, like to a five-year-old who’s trying to learn a new sentence. She glimpsed to you, then looked at Peter, who was looking at you, astonished at your rudeness.

“It’s Wendy,” the girl said, quietly.

“Okay, Wendy,” he said, reaching his hand out. “We’ll go talk in private,”, stressing the last word, looking at you. Wendy approached him, hesitantly, looking around. For the first time Peter looked like the safest person in the group. He lead her away from the crowd, leaving you staring after them bitterly.

The next few weeks were an absolute nightmare. He had barely even looked at you after you'd given him the silent treatment. After that he just ignored you and you hadn’t made any kind of move either. So that was that.

You were so angry with him because you didn’t know why he was so infatuated with her. I mean, she was pretty, sure, but so boring, never said anything with even a little bit of spice and always so irrationally afraid of everything!

And as time went by, he had surely completely forgotten about you.

You heard the wind howl as it blew through the forest. The fire before you was blazing, sending the sparks flying in the air. It rattled and popped, making that sound you so loved. The sound of home. But lately nothing had made you feel like home.

“What’s troubling you?” a voice asked from above. You looked up quickly, seeing a shadow floating in the dark. Not just any shadow, Peter’s shadow. You hadn’t seen it in a long time.

“Nothing,” you said. You looked back into the fire, not minding the shadow. It flew lower, though keeping at a safe distance from the fire.

“I could take you back home,” he suggested. You scoffed; no one left Neverland without Peter’s say-so.

“Right.”

The shadow laughed that wicked laugh of his that you hadn’t heard since the night he brought you here, and you looked at him. He flew down at your side, offering his hand to you.

[straightillmorning]

A Good Shagging PT. 4

REQUEST: — A/N: Imagine going to school in London, and the a group of boys known as the Lost Boys, well their “leader” has a little crush on you.  – PT. 1, PT. 2 – Sorry this took so damn long, I just haven’t really been in the mood to write, yet you’re all still here! Yay! FANDOM: OUAT AU PAIRING: Peter x Reader READER AGE: 16-18 RATING: non-E, smut TITLE: A Good Shagging WORD COUNT: 1083

As the bell rung to end last period, something twisted in your stomach. You flinched at the sharp and high pitched noise, slowly standing up. You were barely in your right mind; you hadn’t gotten any sleep the previous night.

Some girls in the classroom shot looks of despise and deep disrespect your way. All the girls in the school had been nothing but mean to you, and now they were jealous too. They’d either never gotten their turn on the most popular ride, or had already punched their tickets. You were beyond satisfied, but also worried of how quickly gossip got around in the school.

You left class, and headed toward the library. It wasn’t too late to turn back, you know. But then you’d have to explain yourself to Peter when you ran into him in the corridors, and that would be awkward. Maybe you’d just tell him off now. I mean, he was extremely good looking, a great kisser, but you didn’t want to get treated that way. You he would just use you once and move on to his next victim. But, you hadn’t been able to concentrate on any of your lessons. You’d only been thinking of his hands on your body, of your lips gliding over one another’s. It made your heard race just thinking about him.

You saw the double door, that lead into the library and walked through them. Immediately upon walking in, the mixed smell of thick bittersweet marijuana with a hint of tobacco hit your nose. The library didn’t look like one at all. I mean, there were shelves and books, but the tables were messily set around the room, and students were smoking behind the cracked door that lead to the school parking lot. You began questioning the legitimacy of this school.

You went toward the middle of the room, and jumped, when a hand gripped yours. You sighed when you laid your eyes on Peter’s face.

”Don’t do that,” you said, and he pulled you closer. He just held your hand tightly and pulled you away from the sight of others, in between two shelves.

”Do what?” he asked quietly. ”Do this?” he said, pushing you against the desk against a wall of the small space in between the shelves, squeezing your hand, pulling your face closer to his with his free hand.

”Scare me,” you corrected.

”Do I?” Peter asked. He did, like hell. It was so hard to come off as confident when he was so much more, and you felt like a complete slave to your biological desires, to him.

”Stop asking questions,” you begged, and kissed him, he responded. He helped you up on the desk like before. His hands felt warm against the skin of your waist, trailing upwards as he pulled his lips from yours too soon.

”One more?”

”Was that your question, or did you mean ’two more?’” you asked.

”What’s your name?” he responded.

You were so surprised he asked that—and also that your name never actually came up—and not something entirely else, like, ”Do you like the rain?”. Maybe he was just being polite, but, that wasn’t really his thing, now was it?

”Y/N,” you said, and he leaned back in to kiss you with a genuine smile on his lips. Both your lips were yet again wet and hot with passion, he gripped your waist tighter and you let out a small moan with the exhale. A rush of excitement brewed in your chest, when he moved his hand down your thigh. From the first time you’d seen Peter, you’d wanted to be right where you were now, you’d wanted him to touch you like he was now, to kiss you like he was now. But you never thought you were actually going to be there; from the first time you interacted with him, you thought he was incredibly rude and obnoxiously cocky, you’d hated him. As you had every girl that drooled over him, you’s thought they were being stupid, and now you were being stupid. The only way that this was going to end, was you getting your hopes up and your heart broken. You tried not to think about what was going to happen afterwards, because nothing was going to happen.

Peter slowed down the pace of his kisses, in a teasing manner, leaving your with your mouth open, waiting for him to kiss you again. And once he did, you all but sighed. He pulled you as close to himself as he could, still trying to press you harder against himself, trying to have all of you. He trailed his kisses down your jaw to your neck, and you let him unbutton your jeans, he pulled down the zipper, everything ever so slowly, making that excitement in your chest ache. Your breaths became faster paced and deeper, your eyes darting from the smirk on his lips to the quirk in his eye. He then reached his hand into your jeans. They were tight, but he managed to get his hand underneath you swiftly, beginning to feel up the wetness.

You could tell he was just about to make some cocky comment about that, and stopped him with a kiss. He responded a bit late, with a bite at your lower lip. He began twirling his fingers around, making you squirm at the sensation, and him smirk at your reaction. Your eyes fell shut as he slipped inside easily, making you wetter and wetter with every movement of his fingers. You let out not a pretty sigh of pleasure, but a desperate cry for relief. He moved his two fingers back and forth against your sensitive spot, and you couldn’t help but let out a full fledged moan. Peter pulled you closer to touch his lips to yours, shushing you calmly. You looked into his eyes, which were looking down.

You let yourself sink into the feeling of him within you, making you feel things you never had before—as cheesy as it sounded, and trying your hardest to keep quiet as he shushed against your lips. But one thought was floating to the very surface, above everything else.

”Why do you care?” you asked, trying to get your breathing under control, but it kept staggering. ”About my name?” He slowly looked into your eyes, pulling away a bit, but enough for you to see his grin.

”There’s just something special about you, Y/N.”

[straightillmorning]

A Good Shagging PT. 3

REQUEST: none A/N: Imagine going to school in London, and the a group of boys known as the Lost Boys, well their “leader” has a little crush on you. PT. 1, PT. 2 FANDOM: OUAT AU PAIRING: Peter Pan x Reader READER AGE: 16-17 RATING: non-E, sc smut, swearing TITLE: A Good Shagging WORD COUNT: 807

“No thank you?” he said. “How is it you can be so nice while being so rude?”

“I’m not being rude, I’m just rejecting you,“ you said with a fake smile.

"Oh, is that what that was? Huh, it’s never happened before,” Peter said, pretending to be baffled. You began to be even more frustrated with him. You’d seen him walk along the corridors for weeks now, ignoring all the, what society called ugly, girls and the ones he’d already used up. But, as disgusted with him as you were, I guess it did make you feel special. That the most wanted boy in school, did indeed want you. It was like you belonged in this elite group of girls, that were desirable because one boy said so. And, I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? You could never develop actual feelings from one time with someone you despised, right?

Peter stepped toward you and swept a strand of hair that had fallen from your updo away from your eyes. Why did he want you so bad? There were dozens of girls in this school equally as pretty as you, if not prettier that he hadn’t yet fooled around with. Maybe he wanted to be the first to score with the new girl, or there was actually something special about you. But, since it was the school fuckboy this was about, you guessed the first option.

You had to stop thinking, for your head was about to explode. So, to stop it, you took his face in your hands and crashed your lips on his. At first, you just shut your eyes tightly and instant regret washed over you. But then, the entire world seemed to have stopped spinning. Your chest was burning up with excitement and relief at the same time and you forgot to breathe entirely. Even though you hated him and what he stood for, it did make you feel good to be wanted. Although, you didn’t quite look the part. The other girls that you knew he’d been with, all had perfect hair and makeup, always dressed up and pretty. You didn’t quite know what was so appealing about your makeup-free face, messy hair and simple clothes, but you didn’t really care at that moment.

After a couple of mere seconds, you felt the bastard smile and pull back. Strings of saliva left your lips connected, until he looked into your eyes. You swallowed hard, catching your breath. He examined your expression, his lips still slightly parted.

“Change of heart?” he asked smugly. Your first instinct was to say something witty and vulgar, but all you wanted to do, was kiss him again.

You went with what felt most natural: “Is there an off button I have to press, because me kissing you should be an obvious sign for you to shut the fuck up,” you said, and he smiled wider.

“Yes, madam,” he said, and you pulled him with you where you leaned against the sink. He kissed you hard, pulling your body as close to his own as he could. He lifted you up to sit on the sink with one swift lift, and left his hands on your hips. He kept kissing you, and just when he got to unbuttoning your jeans, did the door swing open. A flock of teenage girls flooded in, and all gasped in shock and then some giggled at the sight. 

The girl who seemed to be in charge of the group, gripped her books ever tighter in her arms as she looked at you. Peter looked into your eyes and for a split second they met with his. He backed away from you and you got down to your feet. You weren’t that embarrassed, more pissed about the interruption, and quite confused at that one girl’s reaction. You exited the restroom quickly, and looked for Sandra, but found the corridor was empty.

“Hey!” you heard Peter yell after you. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“I need to get to class,” you said hurriedly, stopping and turning toward him. “Don’t you?”

“No, not really,” he said and shrugged. He looked at you from head to toe, and his gaze froze below your belt. Your brows furrowed in confusion as he walked to you, shifting his eyes onto your face.

“What are you—“ you began, but he interrupted you: “Relax,” he whispered, showing his hands and then buttoned your jeans back up. “Your fly.” You gave an awkward laugh, and looked down. You were usually quite confident around guys like him because you didn’t like them. But now you were extremely nervous, because—

“Want to meet me in the library after school?” he asked.

“The library?” you asked, looking up at him in astonishment.

Peter chuckled. “Yes, the library. This school isn’t exactly for the brightest and most achieving students, so the library isn’t reserved for quiet activities,” he said, smirking. You half scoffed, half laughed. You looked him in the eyes and bit your lip, knowing you’d regret saying yes.

“I’ll meet you there.”

[straightillmorning]

Yes, Daddy PT. 2

REQUEST: Hi this is my first ever imagine request, so I don’t know how to properly ask but could I have a Peter Pan smutty imagine. Could it be hard core smut and kinky with daddy kink too. And is it okay if the pairing can be Peter X Leah. Thank you so much. 💕 – Anonymous, Tumblr A/N: *Screen Junkies dude voice* Five fucking months later, she decided to be a decent human being and post the next part… Sorry to whoever requested this, I wasn't able to to a Peter x Leah, so it'll be a standard Peter x Reader. PT. 1, this turned out pretty long so I’ll post it in parts. FANDOM: OUAT PAIRING: Peter x Reader READER AGE: 17+ RATING: Non-E, smut, darkish Pan TITLE: Yes, Daddy WORD COUNT: 1102

Peter climbed on top of you, rope in hand. He tied both your wrists to the bed, and you felt the harsh surface of the rope scratch your skin.

“Are you going to be a good girl?” he asked you. You nodded, but that was never good enough for him. You heard the tut tut escape his mouth. “What was that?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whispered and he let his lips graze yours as you spoke, that close he was. You wanted to kiss him so badly, but he did not like you breaking his rules. Rule number one, when you were tied up he did things to you, not you to him. 

He then kissed you dangerously close to the lips, then your neck and your chest until he reached your thighs, at which point you already felt soaking wet. Your body ached for his touch, it ached for the things he could make you feel, physically and emotionally, and he knew and loved this effect he had on you. He also wanted to make you feel beautiful, important, loved and safe, but never in public. He would never give you little kisses on the cheek, the nose or forehead in front of others, or whisper sweet things in your ear at night by the fire. Peter would never tell you he loved you in front of others.

He pulled down your panties and kissed your once. He got up and pulled you closer to himself by your thighs. You began breathing heavily as he removed his clothing, and you gasped in surprise as he roughly entered. It was an electric wave of something that couldn’t be explained with words, passing through your entire body like a shock. Again, and again, and again.

Your hips instinctively moved along with his, but he stopped you; he wanted all the control. You couldn’t help but curling your back and pushing the back of your head into the pillow as an alternative action. He picked up the pace, and what were previously only gasping whimpers were now the moans he wanted to hear.

He then got up to his knees, and you opened your eyes, not realising you’d closed them at all as he flipped your body. The ties burned your wrists even more as your arms crossed. His hands were still on your hips, and he lifted them up a slight. You could barely lean your elbows on the bed for support, and you hung your head, breathing heavy. He yanked at your hair, and you couldn’t help but cry out with every thrust made of which every one pushed you a little closer towards the finish line. He held your hair in his fist, forcing you to look forward. You tried to ignore the fact that the Lost Boys were just outside playing, but that was easy to do, as Peter placed his hands on your hips and moved them back and forth, and that itching feeling that you needed to scratch grew stronger and stronger. It was frustrating being so close, yet so far. Exactly, what your relationship with Peter was. He could only be his sweet self around you and it angered you sometimes. But, you didn’t say anything. You were too afraid he would choose power over love. But, you had gotten used to this, not expressing affection in public and then going all out in the bedroom. You wouldn’t know what would happen to the two of you if you could hold his hand by the fireplace and kiss him after he came back from a hunt. 

Your thoughts were cut off when you felt it, relief. It was the sweet poison that ran through his veins and now yours, cramping you up and sending you crying out, until it faded into relaxing your muscles and leaving you gasping for air. 

Peter let go of your body, and you wish he hadn’t. You felt weak and tired, thirsty, he had never made you finish so quickly. But then again, you two hadn’t done this in a while. You turned onto your back, and he looked at you for a second.

You laid there, panting, and then he put his own clothes back on, and reached to untie the ropes. Your arms fell loose above your head, and you looked at Peter. He came down and gave your cheek a soft kiss. You let your arms wrap around his neck as he planted another kiss on your lips, and sat back on his feet. He picked up your clothes from the floor, and began putting your panties on you.

“Butt,” he said and you lifted your bottom off the bed, and he made sure the soft fabric was neatly around your hips. He then crawled to you with your shirt. It was black and tight, and you’d rather wear something looser to bed. 

“Not, I want yours,” you said. You sat up, and he looked down at your eyes. He was kneeled across from you, your legs beside his. He was still a good half foot taller than you, even sitting down. 

“Why?” he asked, tilting his head back in frustration. 

“Please?” you said, with the puppy eyes you knew he couldn’t resist. “Can I wear it?” you looked at him in the eyes and he looked back into yours. Your lips parted in anticipation of what he might do next and your gaze didn’t leave his eyes, whereas his kept jumping from place to place. Then he lightly touched your jaw, and kissed your lips softly. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said quietly. You smiled a bit, even though he had never said that in front of others. You couldn’t understand what his problem was, you thought he was embarrassed of you, and that he didn’t want his boys to think he was weak enough to fall for a girl. But, the truth was he was already weak, you made him weak. He couldn’t function properly around the boys if he looked at you the way he did when you two were alone, or kissed you or told you how much you meant to him. It wasn’t just about his reputation, but about his fear of being vulnerable. He now had something to lose. 

He leaned back from you, and took his shirt off. You smiled in victory and put your arms up excitedly. Peter put your hands through the holes and pulled the shirt down. 

“I love you, little girl,” he chuckled, looking into your eyes with his bright and happy ones. You smiled, and he kissed you once more.