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Chapter Text

It was raining when Wendy was spit into the dark jungle of Neverland. She tumbled to the ground, face first into mud.

“Ugh,” she groaned and pulled herself up, wiping her face clean and gauging her surroundings. She had never expected to come back, but yet here she was.

Wendy and Peter had gone their separate ways (in a rather nasty split) after he murdered an entire family in exchange for eternal life. However much she may have (or still) loved him, there was no way she could’ve stayed in Neverland with him after the fact. So, she did the only thing she could. She got out while the opportunity presented itself, and it did in the form of a one handed pirate with a drinking problem. Hook took Wendy and escaped, which really pissed Peter off.

In a way, it pleased Wendy that she left Peter fuming over a pirate stealing his girl, but she also knew Peter would not forgive her easily, if ever. Wendy never actually knew what happened of Hook after she saw him the last time at the docks, but she wished him well. He was a good man, and he didn’t deserve to lose Emma like that.

But right now, she needed to focus her attention to getting out of the heart of the jungle and on to some kind of trail. To make matters worse, she definitely didn’t remember this part of Neverland, but she suspected it was of no coincidence, nothing here ever was. The pitch black jungle, the pouring rain, the mud, the lightning, the deafening thunder, the suspicious rustling off in the distance, everything… It was created just by him to mess with her. Peter always set the game. She suspected he already knew she was here.

Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark as she readied herself for whatever might be coming. He knew every grain of sand on this island and he knew what was going on at all times. After taking Henry’s heart, Pan’s power was practically unlimited. Wendy often wondered that, since all fairy tales were real but portrayed inaccurately in her world, if the ones in the Bible were too. She had been raised to believe them, but after what she’d seen, she knew it couldn’t be how it was written in the good book. What does that make Peter? She wondered glumly. A cross between God and Satan?

It had been five years since she left. Nothing had changed, but yet everything was different. That was the way of Neverland, though. Even though she had no idea where she was, it was like she had never left. She could never forget this place, no matter how much time she gave it. If it were up to her, she would have never come back here.

As Wendy moved along through the underbrush, she still wasn’t starting to recognize where she was, which was a bad sign seeing as she’d lived here for over a century. The blond made her way through the foliage as quickly and quietly as she could. Her most pressing concern was trying to find a trail until an arrow pierced a young tree uncomfortably close to her head. Heart in her chest, she leapt sideways and ran for it, using what she could to hide herself.

An arrow would shoot every time she thought she was out of range or somewhat safe, always striking close to her but never touching her. She spotted some ferns and ducked down into them, praying she was hidden safely. Heart hammering and eyes wide as saucers, another arrow pierced the canopy of ferns and struck the ground half a foot away from her foot.

That was too close, Peter!

“Come out, Wendy! I’m not going to really shoot you!”

“Oh, you bastard,” she whispered. He was playing with her, she realized, he had wanted her to run from him. She popped up out of the ferns, staring confidently ahead, arms raised as if to say, Go on and shoot me. It was just his silhouette, but it was enough to make her stomach turn in disgust. At least he was alone.

“Hello, Wendy bird,” he said kindly, like they were old friends, and the rain stopped immediately. It was a disturbing contrast to the person he really was. Wendy did not reply, but she lowered her arms. She didn’t feel so brave anymore. She had expected herself to be able to face him again, but after what she did and what he did and the deaths and not to mention what drove her here in the first place…

Suddenly he was before her, eyes glinting darkly, a predatory smile on his face. “It’s been a while, darling. A lot has changed, hasn’t it?” He looked her up and down, noticing her more feminine physique. She still seemed to have a fondness for pretty dresses, and this purple one was very flattering on her. She was so different. Something like a bloodstain on the side caught his attention and made him raise an eyebrow. Either way, she was still as pretty as he remembered, but somehow she seemed even more beautiful when she looked a mess. He didn’t like her to be too comfortable.

Wendy couldn’t help herself, she struck out as soon as Peter was within range. Her fist made a satisfying sound against his cheek and he honestly looked shocked.

“That was a mistake,” he said, his expression darkening as he slapped Wendy to the ground with more force than necessary. The pain was blinding, but she said nothing as she crumpled into the soft, wet ferns. In the distance, the sound of a group approaching made her look up sharply. The Lost Boys would never miss this, Wendy thought, and Pan loves to put on a show.

“What are you doing coming here, Wendy?” He used his foot to brutally shove her onto her back. Her cheek had turned red from the blow and looked painful, but she put up a good front.

Wendy groaned in response.

“Trying to fix what happened? Trying to kill me?” Peter asked mockingly, before leaning over her. “Trying to prove something?” His brow arched. What in the hell was he talking about? The Lost Boys were there now, their torches providing light. She could see him better, not at all surprised to see he looked to be the same old boyishly handsome devil she had known before. Dare she say it, he even looked better. He looked healthier with a new glow about him after he took that poor boy Henry’s heart. Wendy looked sideways and made contact with Felix, his smirk barely visible in the poor lighting.

“Looking at Felix? He’s not going to help you, you dumb gi—” Peter began but was cut off by Wendy’s shouting.

“Get off me, you murderer!” She yelled and tried to wriggle free from under him. The girl put up an impressive fight, but he quickly subdued her. He was on top of her now, legs on either side and holding her down as he smiled at her. He drew his face closer to hers, and for a second Wendy thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, his lips were at her ear, whispering hotly, “Back because you miss me?”

“Shut up!” Wendy shrieked, wrestled her arms free and punched him in the jaw again. Because of her position, it wasn’t the most powerful punch, but it was enough to hurt him. Peter grunted and recoiled, quickly holding her down with magic. What was she thinking? He had killed before, he could do it again very easily.

“No! I’m not telling you until you get off me and show me some respect!” Wendy had acquired quite the attitude.

“You know, I’m surprised at how tough you’ve become,” he said. The Lost Boys cheered on their leader, holding up torches and various weapons to the sky. He felt a small flush of pride in Wendy, knowing that if he hadn’t kept her here she never would have grown a backbone. Unfortunately for her, she picked the moment day to show it.

“But, I’ve had enough of this now, darling.” He said breathily and placed a quick kiss to her lips, much to Wendy’s disgust. "You’ve hit me twice now, and this last time you’ve done it front of my boys. I can’t allow you to embarrass me like this.” With that, he sat up so that he could put his weight behind his arm as he pummeled Wendy Darling’s face repeatedly. The Lost Boys hooted behind him.

Chapter Text

Wendy must have blacked out. When she awoke, she was back in a cage like the one he used to keep her in when he was mad (so, all the time), her wrists bound together by rope, and her head pounding. It was morning… Or maybe it was the afternoon. Her sense of time was off. She desperately wanted out of the cage, but she was almost too weak to move.

Her prison was crudely made of sticks, but this time Pan had been so kind as to add a cushion of moss. The cage she was formerly imprisoned in and this one were almost identical, except for a small mirror directed at her face so that she could see her cuts and bruises. She felt bile rising up in her throat. She had never wanted to be back in this place, and she really didn’t want to know what she looked like right now. It was her own personal hell for so long, and now here she was, beaten to a pulp inside it again.

Wendy felt tears spring to her eyes as she gazed at her face, covered in dirty and blood. Her eyes were both swollen and blackened, her face bloodied and bruised. Her lips were split in several places, her jaw swollen and her nose was not that shape before. There were cuts on her forehead, jaw, cheeks, around her eyes— Peter never showed mercy. There was one particular cut on her cheek that hurt worse than the others, however. It had since stopped bleeding and now it oozed a nasty yellow substance flecked with spots of red. It was probably infected, she realized hopelessly. 

She could hardly recognize herself.

Her tears dripped into another nasty cut under her eye and she let out a stifled sob. Everything hurt so bad. She laid down again for what felt like forever until night fell, biding her time by crying silently and dozing. It was during one of her restless naps that someone came for her, and he was particularly unkind as he let her down. He let her down so quickly so that she was shaken about as the cage landed roughly on the ground.

Wendy grunted in pain, but said nothing as she looked up at Felix’s shit eating grin.

“Enjoying your stay?” He asked, that dumb piece of straw hanging out of his mouth. She wanted to snatch it out of his mouth and stomp on it.

He opened her cage and pulled her out harshly, pushing her stumbling and beaten body along a path she was unfamiliar with. If she walked too slow, he would poke her with that damn stick he carried and shout at her to move along. When this was over, she was going to break that goddamn thing over his head.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked, but Felix did not reply.

Eventually, they stopped walking when they had reached the base of a tree and he knocked on it. Other than this tree being very large, Wendy didn’t understand its significance or why he had knocked on it.

“What is this?” She said hoarsely, not at all amused.

“See ya,” was all Felix said as he left. Wendy stood dumbly for a moment, blinking in confusion. When she looked up, she realized there was something up there. Was that… A tree house? Yes, it was and it was about sixty or seventy feet up. Who was up there? She stood there for a while, confused and dazed, staring up at the tree house. It was so far up and at such an angle that she could really only just see the bottom of it. She walked a circle around the tree, looking for a ladder or another way up but she could find none. Suddenly, she was being lifted up and into it by an invisible force. It was frightening to be standing one moment and moving up into the air the next, but it was over quickly.

She found herself on a rustic porch. It was enclosed with a very charming wooden fence, and behind the circular porch was the treehouse. It, too, was of the similar “quaint cabin the woods” type style. If Wendy didn’t hate Neverland and everything about it, she would have thought this place brilliant.

There was a door between two windows, under which sat two identical flower boxes containing zinnias, her favorite flower. Her eyes narrowed at them. She was probably going to be stuck here forever, was that supposed to make her feel better? Putting on a brave face despite how awful she looked and felt, Wendy reached for the door handle, still in shackles, only for the door to open by itself.

There he was again.

“That looks bad, bird, what did you do to deserve that?”

Wendy gave him a murderous glare.

“Doesn’t matter I suppose, it’s never the victim’s fault,” he said. “Some people are just plain cruel.” His smile was horrible and for once Wendy agreed with him.

“Let’s take these off,” he said somewhat ominously. Wendy looked at him with wide eyes until she realized he meant her restraints, which she gladly let him do. They were very tight and as they fell to the ground she felt a little relief. The rope had left an angry, purpley red imprint on her. Peter took her hands in his and began to rub her wrists. Wendy tried to pull away, tried to ignore how good it felt for him to hold them again.

“Stop,” he growled in a voice she loved and she obeyed him. He gently massaged her wrists, helping to bring blood back to them.

“Sit down, let me help you,” Peter said in a voice that was tender for him, but Wendy refused to move.

“No,” she rasped. Her throat was raw from screaming last night and as a result her voice was nearly gone. Peter grabbed her by the throat and backed her into the bedroom. He pushed her down roughly onto the bed, making her cry out in pain.

He was on top of her suddenly. “How’d you come through a portal into Neverland?” He asked, pinning her down and probably leaving more bruises.

“I needed to! You don’t understand!” Wendy cried. Peter sneered and smacked her face again, making sure to hit one of her cuts. Wendy’s face stung even worse as more cuts reopened.

“That’s not what I asked,” his voice was rough and angry.

“Something was chasin—”

“So you come running back to me? What makes you think I won’t send you back?”

Wendy’s eyes widened with fear. “I’ll die!”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

“Peter, I’m running from The Wraith! I’m not here because I want to be, I know you don’t want me here—”

“You’re damn right I don’t!” He said harshly, and for once he looked vulnerable. “Why is it chasing you? Who sent it? What have you been up to?”

She wasn’t ready to let him know. “I’m here because I have a personal problem like you said, and no other option—”

“I’m sick of hearing about your problems, Wendy, what about mine?”

“What problems do you have? You got what you wanted.”

“Not entirely,” he looked away from her eyes.

“What else could you possibly want, Peter?” She asked him.

He didn’t answer, instead he got up, and left her reeling. When he returned, he wielded an impressive looking knife. His green eyes met hers and she felt the spark that was always there, the one she hated.

“I always did like to hear you scream.”

“What?” She gulped. “No!” 

Had Peter lost his mind? She knew he was angry, but she never dreamed that he would stab her over it. 

“Peter, don’t!” She held her hands up defensively. “Please, I’m sorry but I had to leave you. I felt so trapped here, I just c-couldn’t stay any more. I hated that cage!” She cried. 

“And now you have a treehouse,” he said. Tears pricked her eyes as he moved towards her slowly.

“It’s lovely, don’t you think?” She didn’t respond. He was standing before her now, stroking her clothed leg with the knife. “Don’t you think?” He repeated harshly and nicked the thin skin of her ankle. “Yes!” Wendy winced. Wendy swallowed, too weak to move as she lay on the bed. Slowly, starting at her knees where the hem of her dress began, Peter begin to slice. 

“No,” she said and tried to move.

Peter stopped what he was doing and gave her a warning look that shouldn’t have sent heat sending to her nether regions. 

“Be still,” he cautioned and resumed cutting until he had completely removed her dress. She hated to admit it, but that command made was making her feel dizzy (and it wasn’t from the beating).

Her knickers and bra were a matching pretty pink silk, something Peter hadn’t been expecting but definitely appreciated. 

“Very nice,” he whispered as he sliced away the last garment protecting her breasts from his hungry gaze. He smiled darkly at her newly revealed body parts, but left it alone for now. Instead, he moved to her boots and pulled them off one by one.

Wendy trembled as he moved up to her panties and cut them, too. Now he was able to see all of her, and it did not disappoint him. Still, he wanted more. He always wanted more, more than she could possibly give him. The blond girl sobbed silently.

“Ssh, darling, don’t cry, there’s no need for that.” He dabbed her eyes with the remains of her dress.

“Please,” she whispered, hating herself for the excitement building in her and hating herself for crying in front of him. She could feel his eyes fixated on her, completely ignoring anything she had to say to him. 

“Oh my Wendy bird, you are beautiful,” he whispered and crushed his lips to hers. Her body went rigid with shock and terror. Electricity bolted through both Peter and Wendy’s veins when his lips touched hers. Wendy struggled to breathe, and as she did she found herself surrounded in his comforting, heady scent. He smelled like the jungle, dangerous, adventurous and fresh. His tongue danced across her swollen lips, and she found herself opening up to him. He kissed her properly, almost making her moan with arousal. This snapped Wendy back to reality and she broke the kiss, glaring at him. 

“Don’t!” She growled.

“I think we’re going to have a lot of fun,“ his voice was sweet as he dragged the blade along her cheek, lips centimeters apart, eyes blazing into hers. “I have more questions and you had better tell me what I want to know and you better not pull anything. You’re mine now, you do as I say. You think you’re in pain now? Wait until 100 boys who haven’t seen a girl in two hundred years get their hands on you.” His entire demeanor changed on the drop of a hat, completely disarming her.

She’d heard him say a lot of horrible things, but that managed to elicit a shiver from her. "What do you want to know?”

He smirked and pressed the knife against one of the deeper cuts on her cheek, reopening the wound and making her cry out.

“How did you get here?” He punctuated his words with little slaps to her cheeks.

“A bean.”

“I know that, you stupid slut, how’d you get it?” The knife was back again and Wendy’s pussy spasmed.

“What— what does it matter how I got it?” Wendy stuttered. She’d been afraid of him asking that because she knew. He was definitely drawing blood now.

“It matters because if you had a bean, then somebody else could have a bean, and I was very specific about the destruction of all magic beans. I don’t want people going from different worlds unless I authorize it.”

“Hook gave it to me when he dropped me at the docks in Storybrooke, he said I may need it in the future. I don’t know anything about any other beans, Peter! You’re acting like a fucking dictator!”

“Say that to me one more time,” he warned and slapped her harshly.

Wendy gasped out in pain and shut her eyes tight, pleading with him to stop, trying not to see the apparent arousal in his eyes, voice, and body. Peter Pan wanted Wendy to scream, he wanted her to be in pain. She could feel him hardening against her thigh as applied more pressure with the knife. Wendy screamed as loud as her weak lungs would allow and he stopped, smiling nastily and kissing her softly. That pleasurable spark was back, warming her soul yet making her gut twist in disgust at the same time. She tried to wiggle around, but he kept her locked down as he took her mouth with his.

She never thought she’d be back here again, kissing Peter like this. It was really the last thing she wanted to ever do, because she knew that how ever much she hated him, there was a part of her that would always care about him. Peter tipped her head back and kissed her more passionately, his free hand coming up to cradle her face. It might have looked sweet if it weren’t for the giant knife in his other hand. She couldn’t help it, she kissed him back with just as much passion. Peter wasn’t the only boy to kiss her, but he was the only who could make her ache with just a kiss.

“You know if he has more, love?” He said breathlessly as he broke their kiss. He placed the tip of his knife between her breasts, tracing it down to the fullness of both them with the tip, before he settled on circling a nipple. Wendy’s body betrayed her as her nipples hardened under the cool metal.

“No…” Wendy said unconvincingly. She knew of Peter’s past with Hook and it pained her to think of what he might do.

“No?” He laughed.

“No, I don’t know.”

“I think you do.”

“I don’t, Peter!” As soon as the words left her lips, he sent her reeling with another slap. Wendy groaned and as soon as she began to focus, he slapped her head back the other way. He paused to let her gather her bearings before he forced her to look him in the eye again.

“Wendy, if you don’t tell me now, I’ll kill your brothers.”

“There are three more that I know of,” she said immediately.

“Where are they?”

“Now that I really don’t know,” she whispered honestly, eyes wide with fear.

“Would Hook know?”

“If I tell you, will you let me go?” Her question sounded very weak.

Peter threw his head back and gave her a genuine laugh. “Look, you don’t get to make demands and if you can’t cooperate with me being civil, there are other methods,” he said with a cocked eyebrow.

“This is not civil!” She pointed to her face.

“Nothing that won’t heal in a couple of days.”

Wendy said nothing again, just glared at him through her bruised eyes. He put the knife down, and kissed the tip of her broken nose. Instantly, her nose was fixed and no more pain radiated from that area. Peter moved his lips to her ear where he whispered darkly, “Don’t make me break you, Wendy.”

Statements like that weren’t meant to turn people on, but Wendy’s breath hitched and she found herself clenching in arousal. Slowly, Peter pressed his lips to her jaw, making both their thoughts fray away. He was maddeningly slow and sweet with his kisses as he moved to her lips.

“What do you want from me?” She asked. "To torture me?” The fire within Wendy was starting to burn brighter now and despite the fact that she’d had nothing to eat or drink in over 24 hours, she managed to hock up a very large and unladylike gob of spit. She launched it directly onto his gorgeous brows. “Go ahead.”

“Stupid girl.”

He wiped his brow off unceremoniously, a vicious expression on his face. One hand went around her throat, the other pulled back in a fist. This was the last thing Wendy saw before she blacked out again. Peter beat her for a while even after she fell unconscious, punching her face for no good reason other than he wanted to hurt her.

—

About ten minutes later, Wendy came to. Peter aided her a little with magic, but not too much. Her nose was been broken again and it was definitely bleeding. She could taste blood and feel pouring over her lips.

“You awake?”

“I-” she started coughing and sputtering up more blood.

“What is it?” He rested his hand back casually on her breast, stroking again.

“I hate you.”

She expected him to hit her again, but instead he just laughed, and strangely Wendy thought it sounded nice. “You’re a bloody mess.” He laughed heartily.

“And I think part of you came back here to torture me.”

“You knew I’d always come back, Peter,” she said weakly, not entirely sure why she’d said that, even though it was true. He paused, looking very shocked, then grateful, then angry. He backhanded her across the face and put his blade back against her throat, emotion suddenly overtaking him, green eyes blazing into her glassy ones. He’d wanted to hear those words for a while but not like this, and suddenly he couldn’t make eye contact with her battered face.

“How dare you say that to me. Do you really not know of any other places or did you just want my protection?“ His voice was quiet.

“Both,” Wendy finally admitted.

Peter’s cruel smile grew wider. He got off her and helped her sit up against the back of the bed. Peter sat beside her and took her face in his hands, kissing her deeply again. This wasn’t a rough kiss, it was… Surprisingly passionate. He pulled away suddenly, shocked at his guard coming down, and she looked at him weakly.

“Peter, you can’t kiss me that way, I’ll faint again.”

“I want you to faint. This is what you were meant for. None of the boys you’ve ever known have kissed you like this, have they?”

“None of them-” she stopped to gasp for air “—have ever beaten me, either!”

Peter crushed his lips to hers, one hand wrapping in her hair and the other going to her breasts. Wendy was tired, especially tired of fighting her attraction to him, so she kissed him back submissively. His lips were overpowering her and they were demanding everything from her. She gasped as his tongue touched hers, reveling in all the new sensations. His hand was warm as it held the back of her neck possessively, the heat rushing between her legs, his shaky groan as she wrapped herself around him, the wild smell of him was overwhelming. He was plundering her mouth like a lot of boys had before, except he was very good at it.

“Lay down properly,” he broke their intense kiss to quickly say that before reattaching his lips to hers. She did as she was told, and he finally left her mouth. Peter looked down at her breasts again and reached out and pinched a nipple, making Wendy sigh into his mouth and arch her back. His hands then eagerly squeezed both of her full breasts, fingers rubbing over the nipples, and she closed her eyes. Her body squirmed and her breath hitched.

“Do you want me to stop?” He was only asking because he wanted to hear her answer.

“Yes.” No.

His forest green eyes flashed with amusement as he trailed his fingers down her stomach, resting them just over her core.

“Are you wet for me?” He whispered in her ear, making Wendy blush.

“No.” Yes.

“No?” Peter repeated her mockingly. He didn’t look convinced, but he left the issue alone for now and went to kissing her neck. She was glad he left it alone, because she was very wet indeed. 

Wendy gasped as he kissed, licked, and sucked down her neck to her just above her breasts. His hand began to stroke the outside of her thigh, slowly making its way toward her pussy.

“You sure you aren’t wet?” Peter repeated his question, his voice soft as he stroked the tops of her thighs. He was being so kind, she didn’t know what to do. Wendy did not respond but instead tried to push him off her, annoyed by his ever changing moods. Peter simply pushed her back harder and bound her hands to the headboard with the rope he had taken off her earlier. When had he gotten that? She thought anxiously. He hadn’t left the bed, and as far as she knew, the rope was in the other room. His powers were a little unnerving.

“Want me to touch you?” Again, he only asked because it turned him on to hear her say no.

“No!”

He spread her legs and gently slid a finger inside her, proving that she was indeed very wet and ready. He made a noise in the back of this throat that sounded like approval and Wendy shuddered at the pleasing sound of it. He sounded powerful, confident, and highly erotic, not like the murderous villain he really was. Her muscles tightened involuntarily around him and she buried her head to the side in shame.

“Please,” Wendy whimpered. “Please stop.”

Peter ssshed her and removed his finger. He stroked the side of her face tenderly with the same finger, leaving a bit of wetness there, looking at her with an expression almost akin to affection.

“I’ll be inside you soon, bird.”

He then sucked her wetness off his finger, looking lewdly into her eyes as he did so. Wendy’s face went red and she tried to control herself as he moved to kiss her but she couldn’t.

“Oh, God, you’re so sexy,” she whispered and froze in shock, not believing the words that just came out of her mouth.

“Thank you, darling, so are you.” The grin on his face made Wendy’s stomach turn in revolt. What was she thinking? Was he influencing her somehow? She had to snap out of this.

“I mean— Let me go so I can kill you!” She said and glared down at him, struggling at her bounds with newfound strength but to no avail.

“No,” Peter said softly and continue to kiss her chest, making his way slowly to her nipples, grinning with glee as she struggled. He caught one of her nipples between his teeth and tugged on it harshly, enough to draw blood. Wendy screamed in pain and arched her back again involuntarily.

“You’re beautiful when you scream,” he nuzzled her breasts gently this time before he took her nipple back in his mouth and soothed it with this tongue. All the while, his hand on her legs began to stroke up towards her pussy again, where he slid his index and middle finger inside her roughly, making her throw her head back and cry out again in pain.

Peter was incredibly turned on to see Wendy screaming and whimpering for him again. He increased the pressure of his fingers inside her, but this time a moan of pleasure came from her lips. He looked up at her defeated, bruised face and saw tears streaming down. His cock twitched.

He took his other hand and rubbed her clit. Wendy bucked against him, her mouth open but no sound coming out. How can I be enjoying this? She hated Peter, hated the way he knew just how to please her, and she hated herself for liking what he was doing.

Slowly, he kissed back up to her face, licking away her tears. He then pressed his lips hotly against her ear and cruelly whispered five words she never wanted to hear again from him:

“I want to fuck you.”

When Wendy was in her cage all those years ago, she would sometimes put on a fake smile and chant very loudly, "I’m not really here! I’m not really here!” It was a temporary distraction from her prison and to keep her mind off Peter Pan and The Lost Boys. Right now, in her mind, she was chanting that phrase over and over again as Peter’s hand wrapped around her throat, the other lining up his cock.

“Look at me,” he growled, moving his hand to her jaw. When her doe eyes met his, he sheathed himself inside her completely. Wendy was so slick that he slid in very easily, but she still grunted in pain. She tried to block out the sound of Peter’s excited breathing and harsh words as he began to thrust inside her. He returned his hand to her throat, squeezing enough to keep her attention but not block her oxygen supply.

Hearing Wendy cry made Peter shudder in satisfaction. Her pussy was wrapped so snugly around him he had to slow down to keep from coming too soon. He hadn’t been with anyone in so long, he wanted to revel in the feeling of being inside a girl again. Wendy mewled in respite, a sound that made him smile. He squeezed her throat harder lest she think he was going soft on her. This made her make a very satisfying squeak, but he wanted more from her. He wanted to hear her scream again. He shoved his cock inside her brutally inside her, forcing a cry of agony from Wendy’s throat. This fuck wasn’t about her pleasure, it was about his, so he kept the same hard, fast pace that hurt his captive the most. As a result of not being with anyone since Wendy, he wasn’t going to last much longer. He released her throat and leaned down toward her ear.

“I’m going to come, bird,” he growled, his voice harsh and wicked and hot. She gave him a loathsome look, but he wanted to see her break today. She’d been gone so long he had to make sure he still could.

“I’m going to come inside you,” he grunted, both hands on the pillow on either side of her head. It was easier for him in this position to fuck her as deeply and quickly as he could. 

“Get used to it, slut. You’ll never see your family again because you’re mine and I’m going to fuck you everyday, fuck you until you pass out, fuck you ’til you’re screaming and begging me for more.” His harsh words made Wendy sob and begin to struggle again, a last-ditch effort to get him off of her.

Peter was pushed over the edge by seeing her struggle. He gave one last deep, hard thrust against her and came with a low groan. Wendy began to sob more as he came inside her, especially as her pussy twitched in arousal around him. She hated herself even more for finding his groan sexy.

Peter slumped over her body when he finished, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath and recover. The blond was silent and limp, and when he looked up at her freckled face he could see the blood had dried. In her eyes, there was the most beautiful look of pain. He pulled out of her and glanced down where they were joined. Peter could see his cum leaking out of her, tinted pink from blood, and grinned evilly.

She said nothing, just looked at him with tears in her eyes.

Still breathing raggedly, the boy stood up and waved his hand over her body, instantly healing her. All of the pain in her body was gone just like that.

“See you later, darling.” He gave her a quick kiss like a husband saying goodbye to his wife before work. The next instant, he was gone in a puff of smoke and she was alone.

“Wait, untie me!” She called after him, struggling at her bounds. In a few moments, the rope binding broke and she was free.

Wendy leapt to her feet immediately, unsure of what to do now.

Chapter Text

Wendy awoke to the sound of the door opening. It was still dark and she had no idea how long she’d been asleep for. She sat bolt upright and instantly looked for the first thing she could fashion into a weapon. There was no time for her to think about her desperate need for something to drink and eat because she was no longer alone. There was a candlestick sitting on a desk and she leapt out of bed for it, bedsheets wrapped around her naked body, but when she was half-way across the room, it vanished right before her eyes.

“I don’t think so,” Peter said.

She turned around to face him, not at all amused at how quickly he’d gotten into the room. He was holding the candlestick and ignited it without moving.

“I don’t have anything to say to you right now,” Wendy said quietly.

“Well, that’s too bad because I’m here now. I might not be later, so you don’t have a choice. You’re going to tell me why The Wraith is after you, because I am so curious as to who you pissed off, and you’re going to hear me out.“

She rolled her eyes and huffed.

“If you roll your eyes at me again, Wendy, I’ll slap them to the back of your head,” Peter warned. Wendy returned her eyes to the ground submissively.

“I know I’m not a sentimental boy—” He was interrupted by Wendy’s sarcastic snort. “I may never be able to tell you what you want to hear me say… But when you just left me without any warning… it hurt me.” He said the last part very quietly, and she almost couldn’t believe her ears.

Wendy still couldn’t meet his eyes, she could never look him in the eyes when she lied. “I wouldn’t want you to say that to me now anyways.”

Peter snarled and was across the room in no time. He backhanded her across the face, causing her fall to the floor. Wendy cried out and cupped her cheek where he struck her.

“You used to say it,” Peter said. “When you were coming, you would say you loved me.”

Wendy’s cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. It was true, once upon a time she would scream it, but that was so long ago, at least fifty years. So much had changed since then.

“You’re a monster now.”

“Ahh, here I am thinking that you look like a goddess and you call me a monster,” he said with a sigh. Her eyes snapped back to his with a nasty glare. The Boy King stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers as his hands caressed her shoulders and arms. She jerked away, glaring at him.

Peter laughed darkly and grabbed her by the wrists with force. He began to direct her to the bed again, holding her in place despite all of her struggling.

“I don’t know why you keep protesting, Wendy, you can’t escape me.”

“I can.”

“No,” he silenced her with a tender kiss, laying her down on the bed. He unwrapped the folds of the hastily made bed sheet robe like a present, smiling with carnal joy.

“These,” he brushed his fingers over her nipples and sent shocks of electricity right down to her clit, “are amazing. And they’re mine.” She watched him play with her and watched her nipples harden and betray her completely. 

“I get to keep them forever.” He came up suddenly and kissed her deeply, still keeping a hand on her chest. He squeezed and pinched in all of Wendy’s favorite places, and for once, she didn’t push him off. In fact, she kissed him back very tentatively, partly because she was frightened of him now and partly because she wanted him. Her pussy was dampening quickly.

Peter was a little surprised, so to reward her he stroked the side of her face with the backs of his fingers.

“Peter, no,” she finally pulled away. “We can’t do this.” Wendy’s disgust for him was beginning to win out.

Peter sat back and gave her a darkly amused look. “You always said my emotions changed too quickly.” Wendy didn’t find that funny.

“Oh, and before I forget: you don’t make decisions anymore. You do what I tell you.” He flicked his wrist and she was bound again, this time each one of her limbs was tied to a bedpost. She pulled and struggled at her restraints, the fire not gone from her yet. The Boy King slapped her across the face, smiling at her.

“I’m in charge,” he slapped her again. “I’m in charge and I say we do this.”

Wendy wasn’t going to cry just yet, she’d had worse beatings from him before, but she didn’t appreciate the smacks or the magical bondage either way.

“I was just going to say goodnight, but then you tried to attack me,” he chided, tapping her lips with his index finger. “You always think the worst of me.”

“Because you’re despicable, you know you would’ve raped me anyway,” Wendy said through gritted teeth. He smiled a genuine smile and began to stroke her breasts.

“As I recall last night, you were very wet, just as I have no doubt you are now.”

Wendy snarled at him, once again struggling. His forest green eyes were focused on her exposed, glistening pussy. He stroked his finger through it and held up the soaking digit for Wendy to see.

“Huh, look at that. I was right.” 

Like yesterday, he sucked this one clean before running up and down her dripping slit again.

“Nasty girl,” he commented of her embarrassingly wet pussy. It was starting to leak onto the bed. He kissed just below her belly button, licked a trail down to where her mound began, and then bit both of her hip bones. Wendy moaned, cursing him internally for remembering all of her sweet spots.

He was everywhere except where she wanted him most and it was so frustrating. She hated him, but she was so incredibly turned on, she couldn’t fight him anymore. It was disgusting. He began to kiss her inner thighs now, still ignoring her pussy. Wendy began to buck her hips softly in an attempt to get him to help her ache. He just grinned wickedly at her, brow arched.

“What do you want?” Peter licked a light, slow line from the bottom of her opening to the top. His grin grew as Wendy let a low moan escape her pretty mouth. He shifted in a more comfortable position, his shoulders were between her legs now and her pussy was on display directly in front of his waiting lips.

Peter parted her nether lips and revealed her little clit. He flicked it with his tongue repeatedly and brought out a reluctant mewl from his little captive. It was the most delightful sound to Peter’s ears, soft and feminine, and it made him harden even more. He brought two fingers up to her opening and slid them inside her gingerly, tongue still lapping at her clit. He crooked his fingers up inside her and increased the rate at which he was licking as well as the pressure. Her hips bucked violently in response, soft yet desperate moans falling from her lips. She was approaching the brink quicker than he expected.

He could tell she was fighting back from being too loud, something he never liked for her to do. 

“Don’t be shy now,” he stopped pleasuring her briefly to sarcastically urge her on.

“Oh, fucking hell!” She finally cried urgently and began to buck her hips against his face. She was coming. She held her breath, arched her back and submitted to the waves of pleasure. He continued to suck on her clit all throughout or orgasm, even after she was a bit too sensitive for him.

“Oh, God,” Wendy cried out brokenly and made Peter chuckle.

 Just as there are no kings in Neverland, there are no Gods, either. 

Just him. 

He finally left her pussy and kissed up to her lips where he captured them in a forceful kiss. He wanted her to taste herself on his tongue. When he broke the kiss, he saw that his poor Wendy had fainted and he smiled.

—

She wasn’t out for long, and when she came to, she saw that Peter had a pitcher of water and a glass sitting on the desk in the room. She was untied and laying down next to him. 

She eyed him cautiously.

“Go on, it’s not poisoned,” he said, waving his hand at her. He was reclining on the bed with one arm behind his head, eyes shut. She got up as fast as she could and filled up the glass. Water had never tasted so good, she decided, than when you’ve gone nearly two days without it.

She refilled four more glasses of water before she began to remember her nudity. Wendy’s face burned with shame as she tried to cover herself.

“Don’t worry about that,” Peter’s eyes were finally open, and they were all over her body. “I’ve seen it all before, and I have to say it looks better now. Besides, I haven’t gotten to have my fun yet so come here.”

“What?” Wendy grew pale.

“You heard me, come here,” Peter began to lewdly rub himself through his trousers. “Now, Wendy!” His voice was loud and commanding. Wendy was disgusted with him, but she was terrified of what he’d do if she didn’t. She didn’t want her nose broken again, even though he could heal her with a nod of his head. Not to mention, she was weak from not eating and having very little to drink. There was no way she could fight him, so she did the only thing she could: she obeyed. She approached him slowly and with caution.

He was laid across the sheets, a bulge in his trousers very obvious. She slowly sat down on the bed and with trembling fingers began to pull his trousers off. Peter looked at her through hooded eyes darkened with lust. She finally freed him from his all of clothes and stared in revolt at his beautiful cock, oozing pre-cum onto his belly and pulsing faintly. She had never wanted to see that part of him again, and especially not up close like this.

“Go on, love.”

Swallowing her pride, she took him in her hands and began to stroke.

“Just like you used to do, but remember, if you use your teeth, I will kill you.” Wendy gasped at his serious tone and looked up into his eyes. His cock twitched when their eyes met. Later, he would admit to her that it wasn’t the thought of killing her that made it do that as she originally thought, but her brilliant eyes.

Tears began to well, but she bent down anyways and took him into her mouth. Wendy decided that her best plan was to make this fast so that he’d spend as little time in her mouth as possible. She could feel him hard and soft at the same time, throbbing, and leaking copious amounts of pre-cum.

Slowly, she placed her lips on the head of his penis. Peter sighed at the velvety softness of Wendy’s mouth. Oh, how he had missed this! Her soft lips wrapped around his cock, her tongue bathing his head and her silky hair brushing against his thighs. He brought a hand to that long hair and held it with a fist. Now he was able to see her properly, see her defeat when he fucked her mouth. With a firm grip on her hair, Peter began to thrust his hips into her mouth.

“Let me in,” he grunted before her throat finally opened up and he invaded it.

She gagged around him immediately and he groaned again. She looked up at Peter, disgusted with herself to be pleased that his eyes were closed and he looked like he was enjoying himself thoroughly. Her throat opened more, making her gag again as he thrusted into her. Her nose was pressed firmly against his pubic hair now. Peter grunted his approval and held her there, smiling evilly as she began to struggle against him. She was unable to pull back and breathe, and just when she began to really struggle, he released her by painfully pulling her by her hair. He shoved her back on a second later and repeated this a few times to tease Wendy.

He stopped teasing her, instead settling on a fast paced fuck. Tears and spit, an amount of which polite society would consider disgusting, were streaming down her face and coating his cock. That was how he liked to see the girls he spent his time with, choking and gagging around him. 

“I’m gonna come,” he rasped and shoved her down all the way, holding her there as his cock pumped ropes of cum down her throat. Finally, he released her and allowed her to breathe. She gasped and choked, sitting back and trying to cover herself.

“I can’t believe I just…” Wendy trailed off, reaching up to cup her mouth in horror. There was drool all over her chin and chest.

Peter had a sleepy and content look on his face.

“It was wonderful. Lay with me,” he whispered, offering a hand to her. Against her better judgement, Wendy took his hand. He tenderly pulled her against his chest and cradled the back of her head as she began to weep into him.

“Ssh.”

–

Two days later, Wendy was given clothes. Peter left the garment laid over a chair, in plain sight so that she could not miss it. It was a green, knee length A line dress that looked like it was made from leaves. Beside it lay a dark, warm looking hooded cape made from wool.

Chapter Text

Wendy didn’t see Pan at least six days and that was fine by her. She didn’t care to see him ever again, unless it was to tell her she could leave. She passed the time by reading the books on the shelf, or pacing. She was surprised (though in retrospect, she shouldn’t have been) to learn that the bookshelf was enchanted. Books that weren’t there the day before would take another’s place, and some would switch positions. It made continuing stories very difficult, but she managed.

It was a rainy day in Neverland, which made the blond wonder if Peter was upset. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t come to see her. He controlled the weather, after all. 

Wendy sat up on her little sofa reading Gulliver’s Travels, but finding it hard to concentrate. How could it possibly please him to have a naked captive up in a tree house?

Some people are just cruel, he had said to her when he captured her. 

The rain eventually passed and night feel. While the moon lit her little tree house fairly well, she was still unable to read since he hadn’t given her any way to light her only candle either. Electricity was something she would miss about the modern world, however befuddling it had been. 

This was the part of the day she hated most, the part where she was left with her thoughts. She had the pleasure of thinking and reliving every moment— some good ones but mostly bad— and she had nothing but this until the anxiety lulled her to sleep.

it was a lonely, worthless existence, but she’d done it before.

Just as she was ghosting on the brink of sleep, she felt his presence in the room. It was oppressive, pushing on her and suffocating her. Her eyes snapped open immediately.

“What do you want?” Wendy said through gritted teeth. Peter flicked his wrist and lit the room. She didn’t bother to cover herself from his hungry eyes, but she did turn her head so she didn’t have to see his face.

“I wanted to bring you your tea personally and bring you new clothes.”

When Wendy didn’t respond, he sat a bowl containing some kind of soup on her desk and lay some kind of dress of a similar make to his clothes. “Well, it’s here when you want it.”

“Go away,” Wendy turned on her side so she didn’t have to look at him. He sat on the edge of the bed by her feet and began to rub her calves tenderly. To her chagrin, goosebumps immediately appeared from excitement, and her freckled cheeks blushed a pretty pink.

“Did you know people in other lands starve to death, but not because they choose to?”

“Yes, I’m not an idiot!” She snapped.

Peter arched an eyebrow and looked away, as if keeping a nasty comment to himself for once. “Well, you’re very fortunate to have food, Wendy. Believe it or not, I know what it’s like to truly not know where your next meal is coming from.”

“Oh, stop the bullshit, Peter,“ she said. He frowned and smacked her behind hard, leaving his handprint on it. Wendy cried out sharply in pain, a delightful sound to Pan. The moment his hand connected with her rump in such a disciplinary way, heat rushed down to her core and her pussy began to dampen. She tried to bury her face in the pillow.

“It’s true. I was a lost boy on the city streets once, doing what I had to, having no certainty in my life… I would have given an arm and a leg for your situation back then, Wendy.”

She narrowed her eyes at him despite being a little shocked at his candid story.

“Now, won’t you have a bite?” He left his hand on her curve of her bum.

“No.”

“Why not?” He asked. “Why haven’t you been eating?”

Wendy sighed and shut her eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. When she finally spoke, her voice was on the verge of breaking. “I want to go home, Peter. You know that. I just don’t have an appetite right now.”

“Do you want to do this the hard way?” He said darkly and squeezed her ass.

“You know I don’t,” she sighed.

“Then have a bite of this soup while it’s still hot, bird.”

“No.”

Peter sighed and shook his head as if he really didn’t want to do what he was about to, but she could tell by that glint in his eyes that he was going to enjoy whatever was coming up. The Boy King reached grabbed her by the hair and roughly pulled her over his knee, treating her like a misbehaving child. Wendy began trying to fight immediately, but he fixed that by giving her pretty blond curls a few good tugs. After she stilled, he wasted no time in spanking her bottom red.

His palm rained down on her shaking ass relentlessly, ignoring her pleas to stop, not even stopping when she started crying. Wendy didn’t want to admit it, but she wasn’t crying just because she was in pain— she was crying because she was also extremely aroused and knew she shouldn’t be.

“Stop, Peter!” She cried.

“You don’t make demands,” he said gruffly and spanked her even harder. Her bottom was going to be covered in bruises and maybe a few broken blood vessels. Wendy began to lose her will, exactly as Peter wanted, and stop struggling against him. She was still crying, but when his hand struck her she wasn’t jumping as much.

This was how he wanted her, submissive and helpless, but Peter chose to keep punishing her.

“I’ll stop when you do what I want,” His hand continued to rain down upon her backside.

“Fine!” She cried and he let up. The blond girl’s ass was an angry red and already starting to bruise. Peter could make out several different handprints on her, causing him to smile wickedly. He roughly shoved two fingers into her pussy to find that it was again very wet. This was actually shocking to him, he didn’t think that she would enjoy such a rough spanking, but Wendy Darling always surprised him.

“My my,” he said and began to roughly finger her. Wendy couldn’t help it, any shred of dignity she had was gone, and she found herself unable to stop from bucking her hips and moaning. Peter was semi-hard before he started spanking her, but now he was painfully hard as he listened to her cries of pleasure. His thumb began to gently rub her clitoris, eliciting a huskier sound from her.

“Fuck,” Wendy murmured, not expecting him to hear her or care, but both Wendy and Peter were not expecting today.

“Yeah? It feels good there?” He said breathily.

“Yesss!” Wendy moaned and shuddered in response. He kept toying with her clit and fingering her until she began to clench around him and moan louder. Peter smirked and kept up his ministrations until she was on the edge, where of course he had to stop.

“That’s enough. On your back, spread your legs,” he said in an authoritative tone and began to hurriedly pull his clothes off. Wendy laid back but kept her legs together, looking up at him through her dark lashes.

“Peter, if— if I— I want to be able to— to— finish, too.” Wendy stumbled over her words, blushing a pretty shade of pink. He stopped and gave her a pointed look.

“Fine, I’ll let you cum if you promise to eat and tell me about The Wraith, but you don’t want to know what it feels like to lie to me, Wendy Darling.“

“I’m not,” she said softly, and for the for first time in a long time, she pulled him in for a needy kiss.

Peter liked to think of himself as a black blooded monster that had seen everything, but that kiss was totally unexpected and it cracked his resolve a little. He kissed her back with intensity, his tongue exploring her mouth. With one hand he squeezed her breasts and with the other he lined himself up with her opening.

“What do you want?” He asked, never content to let her get by with the least amount of suffering possible. “Tell me.”

“I want you,” Wendy said, her voice thick with need. She started to lift her hips up but he stopped her.

“No, bird, don’t move. I’m in charge, I decide when you get fucked. But you need me to be rough, don’t you? It’s what you want.” Peter took her chin gently and made her look at his dark eyes. “You want to be held down and fucked, you want to be dominated and controlled. Answer me.”

Wendy tried to believe that she said yes to his nasty comments because she was trying to appease him, but that was untrue. She said it because, deep down, she really did mean it. She loved feeling him on top of her, holding her throat and fucking her until she cried.

Peter made all thought disappear from her brain with a single, powerful thrust. He moaned when she whimpered in pain. He pulled back out of her and began a very slow, shallow rhythm to tease her. He’d anticipated that she’d grow impatient, and he was right. When she began to push back into him, he grabbed her around the neck and held her possessively, keeping up the slow and steady thrusting.

“No,” he said menacingly in her ear. “Lie there and take it, be a good girl.”

Wendy buried her face in his neck and whimpered, aching to pull him into her. “Please, Peter! Please, I need…”

“What do you need?” He asked sweetly, kissing her tenderly again.

“I need it harder!” She cried and he obliged. He thrust his hips down sharply into her, a brutal and punishing pace.

“Is this what you need, bird?” He growled. “You need me to fuck you ’til it hurts?”

“Yes, Peter, I need it!” She howled, and he responded with a pleased grunt. He reached down and began to rub her hardened clit, working her towards an orgasm. Her walls began to flutter around him in response, and Peter felt his cock beginning to jerk inside her.

When she finally came screaming, Peter could no longer stand the feeling of her tight pussy. He, too, came with a satisfied groan, and when both of them calmed, he allowed himself a rare moment. He let go of her wrists and instead wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, his head resting between her breasts.

“You’re mine forever,” he finally whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Wendy didn’t respond, she didn’t need to because they both knew it was true. She just stroked her fingers through his hair and stared at the ceiling numbly. A single tear slid down her cheek.

“I know, Peter.”