Wake Up || Disney! Peter Pan x Reader

Happy Thoughts and Vine Studies

"Sooooo, would the past tense of yeet be yote or yeeted?"

"Honestly Pan, are you actually asking me that question right now?"

"Well isn't it, like, a key word or some what?"

I laughed at him. Day three of him returning back to my bedroom and I am beyond surprised that my mum hadn't figured out that there was someone in my room yet. Of course if she did find out, and then find out who it was she would faint and check it as a fever dream.

But I'm glad, because that meant that our little sessions could go unnoticed. If you could call the past couple of nights 'sessions'.

Currently we were sitting on my bed (again, because it's better than the floor), laptop on my lap and we were going through vine compilations. Skipping past any repeats or rare ones that weren't iconic. I figured this would be a good place to start him on our (gen z) culture; since most of our humour is based off dead memes and dark humour.

"Well isn't it?" He repeated. I shook myself out of the zone and raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't it what?"

"A key word."

"Uh no, it's more of a.. reference?"

"I'm lost."

I paused the video and turned to him, crossing my legs under my ass. I thought for a second. "Instead of sayinggggg.... throw, if it's trying to be funny you'd say.. yeet?"

He looked even more confused.

"Look if you don't get the context just don't say it." I told him, turning back to the video and continuing to mumble: "it's not like anyone in your realm would understand it anyway."

"Huh?"

"Oh, nothing."

We continued watching the videos again before I yawned. I could practically feel him roll his eyes as he tapped my shoulder. He gave me a look before gazing over to my alarm clock.

Even though he wasn't caught up on modern-day slang he sure knew how to read a digital clock.

"(Y/N) it's quarter past one, I reckon you should sleep."

I snorted, rubbing my eyes. "Sleep is for the weak." I stretched bit more before wiggling and getting back into vine mode. "I'm awake."

"Are you certain?" His voice was a tiny bit worried. Geez, this is what you become after looking after the lost boys, he's like an manchild that looked after kids.

"How about we stop this," he said. The hand that was once close to mine moved to close the laptop but I smacked it away.

"Noooo, I'm fine."

"Seriously (Y/N), the bags under your eyes are starting to show."

"So what?"

"Your ma will get suspicious."

"Ha, let her be." He snapped the laptop shut before I could continue.

"Sleep." He told me. "Now."

The look he gave me was stern, almost sent shivers down my spine. Key word: almost. His face was too baby to actually send them. However I rolled my eyes. Might be baby but I couldn't say no to it.

"Fine," I growled lowly. A bright idea popped into my head. "How about as I sleep you tell me stories?"

The eyebrows that were once furrowed skylighted upwards. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, maybe not. I'm not the best with... stories."

My eyes rolled, far enough to hurt, as I set my laptop down on the floor and started to climb into my bed. "Try me."

He chuckled and floated a tad, stopping the sheets from being trapped underneath him. "No seriously, I can't tell stories."

We argued for a moment, Peter was adamant that he couldn't tell stories until he got a shadowy look in his eyes and looked away. He stopped arguing and stared out of the open window, looking over the city of London, lowering onto the floor.

Ok, so maybe asking him to tell me a story wasn't a happy thought.

The silence was uncomfortable but short-lived as I decided to apologise.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't of tried to make you-."

"No, I'm sorry." He cut me off, finally finding the will to look into my eyes. "I shouldn't of- it's rude to decline your guests a request."

Wow there he goes with the old speech again.

"Look, why don't you just..." I shrugged. "Describe what it's like to fly to me."

And as quick as it had left, his childish grin was placed back on his face. His mood was like a lightbulb, quick and easy to switch on and off.

He floated a bit, hovering slightly over the top of my floor. "(Y/N), even though I feel like I have done it all my life"- of course you have, I don't even know how long you've been alive- "it has always felt so freeing."

He rose up into a lying position and smirked down at me. "Jealous?"

Peters face looked way too smug to me, so despite me wanting ever so desperately to say "of course I am, teach me!", I shook my head. "Not one bit."

He chuckled, resting his head on his hands before grinning again. He was suddenly up in my face and I jolted back.

"I'll bring Tink tomorrow and you can fly with me!"

I was shocked to say the least. Me? Fly?

"Yes, you, fly."

Did I say that out loud?

"Yes you did."

Damn.

"Hey, it's no biggie. If you don't want to try it then-."

I snapped back to reality and grabbed his cheeks, squeezing them mildly. "No! I would love to learn how fly."

Instead of shying away from my hands, his grin widened more and became extremely cheeky. "Sick, I'll bring her tomorrow then."

Our faces were well close and before I could even start blushing he had booped me on the nose with his and withdrew from my hands. I blinked. Hold on.

"I'll see you tomorrow (Y/N)."

"Hold on-."

"See you."

And he was out the window.

What had just happened?