Peter pan/ Robbie Kay imagines

Privacy

The steamy shower brought life and goosebumps to your cold skin. Through all the hunting and chasing the lost boys went about doing with you, your skin had been caked with a fine line of neverland soil, and your hair was twisted and tangled in knots of leaves. You locked the door shut as the shower grew warmer, and you passed the large glass mirror, where your curved shape was blurry through the fog and condensation. Letting your towel slide down your waist, you turned from the mirror,your hips swaying away from the glass, and cautiously placed a toe in the water. The water was boiling, and turned your skin red and exposed at touch, which felt especially good after having bathed in the streams outdoor for the past few weeks.
"Privacy," you murmured to yourself, sliding under the fountain of gushing water.
You reached for a scrubber, and your gentle hands lathered a rich white soap all over your skin, contrasting nastily to the dirt. Your hands moved about in circles across patches of flesh, and with each motion, the skin grew clear and radiant underneath. You had trouble reaching the small of your back, but you managed, and once you were done you scrubbed your hair clean, and collapsed against the cold wall of shower tile. The water felt colder from the floor of the shower, but relaxing all the same, especially the feel of the freezing wall against your red hot flesh. You lay your head back, and spread your legs apart, a soft tune falling from your lips as you began to sing a peaceful melody. Your hands found the glass shower wall, and with each note of your song, you drew small flowery patterns through the steam in the glass.
'Fresh as morning, light breaks soon
sun climbs high as the roses bloom'
As the song came to an end, you made a quick flourish across the glass, tracing out the final part of the rose sketch you'd made in the fog.
"Oh my-" your mouth hung upon in astonishment, sure that the green flash you'd seen through the misty glass couldn't be what you thought it was.
"Peter," you said, attempting to sound stern but only sounding afraid, "C-come out."
It suddenly felt much colder than it should have, as a draft came through the bathroom.
"You have a beautiful voice."
"WHAT THE F-," your feet scrambled to pick you up, and you slammed your open legs closed as you stumbled to your feet.
Peter stood, his back to you, in front of the fogged up mirror. His hair was tousled, he showed no sense of shame, but his hands moved restlessly across the fabric of his clothes.
You stumbled over your words, your hands fumbling for which part of your body it should cover first.
"I locked the door," you grumbled and smacked the shower off.
"And I unlocked it," Peter said simply.
"Peterrrrrrrr," you complained. "Why? No wait, I don't want to know, just give me my towel. No wait, don't, then you'll see me. I'll get it, ugh no but then I have to walk past you."
You heard Peter snicker softly, and a red hot sensation came to your cheeks. You felt too exposed and vulnerable, and It hurt that you knew Peter had seen you like that, and been able to judge you by each imperfection of yours. Within a moment, you'd darted past Peter, and had a cotton towel pulled around your waist. You jumped aside towards the corner of the wall, and bent yourself down, trying to hide away as you crept past Peter. You were heading for the door when he touched your shoulder gently, his forest green eyes were wide open, but they remained on your face.
"(Y/N)," Peter whined like a child, his hands firm to your skin. "It was just a game." But as he said it, a tone of lust hung in his voice like sticky sweat.
"You're awful," you protested.
"And you're beautiful," Peter stated, chewing on his lower lip.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes.
"Hey," Pan said sternly, his hands grabbing yours. "If you could only know what sick things go through the other boy's heads, the things they think about you, you would understand," his voice had an edge of anger when he spoke, and his hands grew tense.
"What's that then?" you said, your voice coming hoarse.
Peter licked his lips, and had to squeeze your hands to refrain his own from traveling where they wanted to go.
"I never lie to you," Peter said, avoiding your gaze by staring at the ceiling.
"Tell me," you urged.
Peter groaned in frustration, his eyes locking to yours.
"Don't you see? With a girls like you around-" he pursed his lips, a deep sigh rolling from his mouth. "You're fragile and delicate, but inhumanly gorgeous like no other. Trust me, they want to do much more than just peek in on your showers," he growled, swallowing a lump in his throat and breathing in your aroma.
Your hair stuck to your back, water droplets tumbling across your flesh as you released Peter's hands in defeat.
Peter pouted.
"I'm sorry..?" he said, but it was more of a question. "It was an accident?" he tried pathetically, cocking his head sideways.
You slinked over to the shower, and turned it back on, Peter watching you with questioning eyes. Once the water grew warm again, you threw your towel to Peter, who understood you wanted peace, and made a move towards the door without a second glance.
"Don't pretend to leave, lost boy," you said coldly.
Peter turned slowly back to you, and raised an eyebrow.
"What was that, love?"
"Don't pretend like you're going to leave," you said, emphasizing each word slowly, a smile twitching at the corners of your mouth.
Peter vanished, reappearing inches outside the shower, a knowing smile on his cocky face as he searched your featured.
"I knew it, lost girl," he teased, "You're just like all of the boys, up in the head of yours, maybe you're not so innocent after all."
You couldn't help but whimper. "I'm just a girl, no-"
Peter cut you off, a finger to your lips. "You are-" he paused, "you could be so much more, if only you'd let me show you."
Your heart beat fast, your gaze flickering over his, testing him.
"Then show me."
You yanked Peter into the shower, pulling you both under the hot water as one, his clothes vanishing as you did so.
Peter chuckled and slid his hands across your belly, standing behind you and pulling your back tight to his front in an embrace. His lips found your skin, where they littered prints down to your neck, and all the while, he moved his slender fingers in circles across your stomach. He bit at the flesh of your neck, and you clenched your teeth together, you could feel Peter growing restless behind you, for his voice was eager and impatient when he pulled back and spoke.
"Finish the song."
You turned to face him, your round eyes meeting his. You backed him up against the shower wall, and stood with your body to his, moving his hands to the small of your back with an innocent smile. The tune fell from your lips, a low hum in the curtains of water,
'But the sun is dark, and I know for sure,
That I want to be broken, so make me un-pure'
you finished.
Peters eyes traveled down you, then back up. Without speaking, he arched your back, cascades of water pouring over your wet and tangled bodies. He gave one last smirk and a move of his hips.
Then the silence was shattered