Low Tide Lovers (Peter x Reader)

𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

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Red is walking towards us, gun in hand. I shrink back. First, I get cut open with a pocket knife. Now I have to worry about getting shot?

"So, this is where my anchor went," Red comments, bringing his arm up. The gun is pointing straight at us. I shrink back behind Peter. He instinctively holds an arm out in front of me.

"Lemme see what's in there."

Red takes slow steps forward. I hold my breath as he switches the safety off on his gun. Nor Peter, Alan, or I move.

"Throw it here!" He shouts. I wince. Alan lets out a short sigh and tosses the box towards Red. He kicks it open.

"Are all these real?" Red asks. 

"No, they're chocolate," Peter says. If it weren't for the seriousness of what was going on, I would have laughed. Red steps aside so he can see me. I gulp.

Red picks up a coin and examines it. His gun is still pointed in our direction. Alan and Peter glance at one another; Alan grabs the oar that we used to dig and stands up. I watch intently.

Alan swings the oat and strikes the gun out of Red's hand. It goes off. My eyes widen as I watch Peter fall to the ground. I can't move. I'm scared.

Alan and Red tumble to the ground. Red blows punch after punch. Blood splatters on the sand. I look away, kneeling down in front of Peter. He is seemingly lifeless.

"Peter..." I whisper, resting a hand on his shoulder. I shake him. "Peter, come on, get up," I say again. Tears prick the corners of my eyes. He doesn't move.

I wipe my eyes and stand back up, facing Red. He's holding Alan under the water. I let out an audible gasp. He was trying to drown him.

"Mother fucker!" I yell. Red snaps his head in my direction. I stagger backward. Fuck. That was a terrible idea. I look around, ready to grab the gum or the oar. But before I can make a move, Red grabs my arm. I yelp, unable to wriggle free from his grasp. He drags me in the water behind Alan.

I grit my teeth. Whatever he's about to do, he's not going to do it with any remorse. He shoves me into the water. I keep my lips pressed together tightly so I don't get sand in my mouth. I close my eyes.

Red blows a punch at my face. His silver ring catches on my cheek. I stumble back, bringing my hand to my face. My fingertips come back red.

I hear the metallic click of a trigger. Looking up, I see Peter standing before us on the shore. Half his face is covered in blood and sand. I looked away.

Red stood still. He knew there was no point in moving. I cover my ears. One shot. Red falls into the water. It turned red. Two shots. He falls completely under. Bubbles blow up to the surface. He doesn't move.

"Y/n," Peter says. A worried expression takes over his face; he tosses the gun aside and hurriedly walks towards me. His eyes scan my face.

"Don't worry about me, let's get your brother," I say, dropping to my knees. Peter grabs him from under the arms. I help pull him to the sand.

Alan lets out violent coughs, spewing out blood and water. Peter is mumbling to him. I keep my eyes on the shore.

Peter stays knelt before his brother until he's done coughing. He helps him move into a more comfortable position; Alan needs to rest. I watch as he shift, staring up into the sky.

"Y/n..." Peter says, his voice low. I turned. Now that I could see him up close, I could see how badly he'd been hurt. I frowned.

"Peter, let me help you clean that up," I said, thinking of when he wrapped my hand up the other night. It was the least I could do. We sit in the shallow water, our knees touching.

I scoop some water into my hands and gently let it dribble down his cheek. The blood slowly drips away. I accidentally graze the open wound with the tip of my finger. Peter flinches.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I mumble, flashing him a sorry look. He shrugs.

Eventually, I managed to get moat of the sand and blood off of his face. He smiles lightly, bringing a hand up to my cheek and running it along the mark Red left.

"I'm okay," I whisper. He nods once and stands up, grasping my hands and pulling me up, too.

Alan is alright now. He can breath, he's rested. He slowly gets up off the ground and limps over to the boat.

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Fireworks boom overhead. I held on tight to the edge of the boat. I was queasy. My clothes were ruined, I was covered in blood, both Peter's and my own.

Alan sat in the back of the boat, staring up at the sky. I glanced at him once; he looked so out of it. He rested his head in his hand.

"Y/n?" Peter whispered. I looked at him. His patched eye, his reddened face. He shifts ever so slightly, getting closer to me.

"Yeah?" I ask. Peter presses his hand on top of mine.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry I dragged you into this. I- I got you hurt, the police- none of this should have happened to you," he says. His voice was just barely above a whisper.

"Peter," I say quietly," it's okay. Think of it like a little adventure. And I would do it ten times over if it meant spending time with you."

He cautiously reaches up, resting his hand on my jawline. He leans in, planting a soft kiss on my lips. I shut my eyes. His thumb rubs against my cheek.

As we pull away, his arm slips around my waist. I yawn quielty, resting my head on his shoulder. The distant fireworks and rippling water were enough to put me to sleep.

I hear Alan chuckle behind us and whisper something to Peter. I close my eyes once more, letting myself slowly drift off.

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