Peter Pan Imagines

Help with the Christmas Tree

Ever since you had been thrown onto the island, one of the most stressful thoughts on your mind had been the fact that he might not let you spoof up the island with a little bit of festive Christmas joy. You had always loved the thought of all the little twinkling lights shining through your window at night, and the thought of not having those was enough to make you throw a fit. So that's what you did; you threw a fit, and ended up winning.

He was pretty annoyed at first with the fact that his Lost Boys, and you, would be decorating instead of hunting or doing other work. He softened up, though, with a bit of convincing from you.

"Pan?" You questioned timidly, "Do you think you could help me with something?"

He glanced up from the burning embers of the fire he was gazing at, boredom clear in his features. He grumbled something under his breath umong the lines of, "What could she possibly want now?" and swiftly stood to face you. He was trying to make himself look stoic, but you could easily see the small glint of amusement behind his eyes.

"What is it this time?"

You looked down, embarrassed, and started drawing patterns in the dirt with your bare foot. Your cheeks were tinted red, and your hands were clasped behind your back as you worked yourself up to ask the question you had been waiting to ask all day. You resembled a small child asking their parent to buy them something, but it really wasn't that big of a deal.

"Could we, um, could we decorate the tree, the one in the middle of camp, like a Christmas tree?" You asked shyly, silently dreading what you thought he was bound to say.

"A Christmas what?"

You peeked up at him through your long eyelashes," A Christmas tree. It's a tree, usually pine, that you string lights over and hang with only the prettiest ornaments and tinsel and candy canes and-

You were cut off by Pan's growing smile," Alright, alright, I get it! What do you need me to do?"

You laughed nervously, twiddling your fingers around each other and smiling timidly, "Well...I can't really reach the top of the tree, and, well, it's too small to climb, so..."

"So, you need me to help you?" He guested, giving you one of his infamous smirks.

"Yeah, pretty much sums up the problem."

He stood there for a few minutes, staring at the forest behind you. He seemed to be thinking of whether it would ruin his reputation or not, even though he knew it wouldn't. He had most definitely done worse things, things he wished he hadn't done, so helping you decorate a tree would be nothing compared to his list of bad deeds.

"Fine. But I won't be drinking that 'hot chocolate' stuff you were making the Lost Boys drink last night." He growled, doing everything he could do to keep up his ego, earning a wide smile from you.

"Really? Thank you!"

You scurried up to him and pounced, wrapping your arms around his waist and, since you were shorter than him, burrying your face into his chest. He went completely stiff for a moment, before he calmed down and awkwardly patted your head. He had told you once that he wasn't much good at hugging, but you figured you would give it a shot. You found it funny how he got all weird and awkward when the two of you had any sort of physical contact whatsoever. You gave him a tight squeeze, willing him to wrap one arm around the top of your shoulders.

You giggled at his failed attempt at a hug, trying to back away from him, but he didn't let you go. After getting over the initial shock of your attack hug, he didn't want you to let go. He pulled you back to him roughly, hugging you to his chest like a teddy bear. He wrapped both of his arms around you and nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck. You could feel his ragged and warm breath in you ear as it ran down your neck and chest.