Peter Pan, Wendy/Tiger Lilly, Drabble Series
Title: "Wonder"
Author:
greenovalfruit
Prompt: Drabbletag -
amazon_syren
Fandom: Peter Pan
Pairing: Wendy/Tiger Lilly
Rating: NC-17ish but not terribly graphic
Word count: 1, 801 altogether - Series
A/N: I do have a format, yes I do. 12 drabbles in sequence. 175 w 175 w, 225 w 225 w, 200 w 200 w, 150 w 150 w, 100 w 100 w, 50 w 50 w. The third and fourth drabble are a little over but I tried to keep it under... Ah... ARTISTIC LICENSE *flees*
Also, this is sick and twisted when you try to look at age. But then again, Romeo and Juliet have a lot to answer for as well. You decide.
Summary: "Wonder" - The new name for Weed
Btw, Hi! Newbie! :o) :o) *waves at
giantessmess and
sparklebunny*
One night in Neverland, when the moon was almost full, Wendy climbed out of the home under the ground on a whim she couldn’t quite put reason to. It was far past seven o’clock, when all the little boys went to bed and not-so-far past the time when she would usually doze off to sleep by the fire, some little one’s half darned socks laying in her lap. Suffice to say, it was late enough for Wendy to be anywhere but outside, hidden by the chilly dark shadows and gazing up towards the moonlit treetops.
She shivered in her blue nightgown, not for the first time wishing for longer sleeves and warmer fabric in place of the fashionable silky dress and small puffed sleeves. That was her mother’s choice, romantic that she was. No matter how many times Peter told her that the temperature was always fine in Neverland, Wendy knew the nights were getting colder and darker. The little boys didn’t feel it, tucked away in their innumerable cosy bunk beds, but she did.
~
Rubbing her arms forcefully, she stepped out of the shadows and into the flickering light of the campfire about fifteen paces from where she stood. The Red Skins were still guarding them against pirate attack and it felt comfortable to see the men sitting in a loose circle, passing the peace pipe, watching the lighter smoke mix with the dark, curling vapour above the fire.
One older warrior, with lines on his face that looked to be scratch out by crows feet rather than resembling them, looked up at her briefly and then returned his gaze to the fire. Having served them hot tea in the mornings and brought them a few caught fish from the little boys every other evening, Wendy was quite accustomed to the Indians and they to her. She felt safe knowing they were there.
Reassured, Wendy turned to the tree right next to the entrance of the home under the ground. Its trunk was gigantic and looking straight up its unwavering line, Wendy could see moonlight glinting off the leaves.
~
The unexplainable urge to climb, to move up and away from the ground, struck Wendy again as it had when she was staring into the fire a short time earlier. She placed one hand on the lowest branch, just above her head and hoisted herself off the ground. She began to climb the great tree, continuing to curse her mother’s fashion sense, this time because the nightgown was two long and got in her way. With a violent exhalation of annoyance, Wendy yanked the blue fabric over her knees and le it bunch at the top of her thighs with a silky whisper. The slowly brightening moonlight shone on her pale white skin, muscled from learning to climb these trees, swim in the waters and chase the boys through the grasses of Neverland.
She was always a pretty girl, a wonderful doll for her mother and a child for her father to be proud of. Quiet, dutiful, attractive. But being in Neverland had changed her. She still looked after the boys, many more boys than her usual pair of little brothers, but she was free to run, to develop, to grow. Her muscles were strong and almost pronounced, her hair fell it untamed curls about her shoulders. She never bothered to brush it and put it up like she had in London. She was changing.
~
Wendy noted, as she neared the top of the tree and the moonlight brightened her night vision, the small scratches along the boughs she used to support herself. From the lightness of the exposed wood, she guessed they were made recently. Someone else had climbed the great tree that night. She paused, now at the top of the tree but waiting just below the canopy and in the convenient shadow of a large leaf. She looked out across the top of the tree, bathed in heady moonlight, and spotted a long rosy shadow stretched out on the canopy. A small flare of orange old Wendy that the figure was smoking a pipe and the shape of the lounging body told her that it was Princess Tiger Lilly.
“Come into light, little white mother. Tiger Lilly knows you are there.” The strong voice had a lilt to it that Wendy hadn’t heard before, not even when the princess spoke to Peter. Curious, and blushed from being caught peeping, she climbed up onto the canopy which here, directly above the great tree, was more of a leafy platform than an unstable treetop. She moved over to where the Indian girl lay and sat beside her, leaving a respectful distance between them. No matter the tone of Tiger Lilly’s voice, being welcomed by her was a new thing.
~
They stayed in their respective positions for quite some time, Wendy with her knees pulled to her chest, hands warming her upper arms, and Tiger Lilly lying back, with one hand cushioning her head and the other cradling her pipe. Occasionally, she’d lift the bowl and place the stem between her sanguine lips, letting out a breath of pale grey smoke a few moments later.
To give her something to do other than stare rather forcefully at the leaves next to Tiger Lilly’s left heel, Wendy looked up at the moon that lit their accidental rendezvous. It wasn’t full. She knew because Peter told her. He had worked out a system involving shells and husks pinned to a tree trunk near the beach, that dictated the cycles of the moon. You could always wait for the mermaids to begin howling their dreadful song especially loudly but, as Peter said, you can’t trust mermaids.
The moon wasn’t full but if she hadn’t known it, she may not have guessed. It looked like a gigantic pearl, lit from within and suspended in the night. To alight on Wendy’s fingernails and Tiger Lilly’s naked shoulders, to stand in the silence. Waiting for movement.
~
Wendy cleared her throat and looked down, ostensibly at her knees. But her eyes flicked nervously over her own legs to the older Indian girl’s. Checking Tiger Lilly’s eyes were closed, contemplating some wonder too great to share with an oldest child, Wendy’s gaze slid along the damask skin from ankle to thigh. Even in the moonlight, Tiger Lilly’s heritage was betrayed by her rosy bronze colour. No matter how cold Wendy felt, or maybe because of it, Tiger Lilly looked warm as the sun drenched lagoon.
Her eyes skipped up across the soft tunic made of deerskin, not entertaining curious thoughts as to what might be underneath the lower portion, to the Indian’s loosely covered breasts. No matter if she thought the night cold or Tiger Lilly didn’t, Wendy could see twin nubs pushing through the tunic and the sight made her own nipples harden almost painfully. Uncomfortable with feeling what she was feeling (what was she feeling?) so close to the princess who was usually so cold to her, Wendy pushed her eyes across the single strap over the left shoulder and to the face that pervaded her thoughts. Peaceful, lips slightly apart, white teeth reflecting the moon.
~
Tiger Lilly’s eyes opened and snared Wendy’s gaze effortlessly. Again, Wendy blushed at being caught looking and pulled her knees a little closer to her chest, trying to cover her physical interest. The older Indian girl gave a small, sleepy smile and offered the pipe to Wendy. The mousy blonde shook her head no, lazy curls bouncing about her neck. Tiger Lilly sat up and held the pipe in front of Wendy.
“Try. Share with me, little white mother.” Wendy regarded the offering with apprehension and a little childish fear in her eyes but unfolded herself and accepted the pipe. She looked to Tiger Lilly and placed the stem between her small pink lips. She inhaled a little and took the pipe away, as she’d seen the princess do. There was a moment of silence, where Wendy’s head spun and the stars churned, before she coughed out the smoke noisily.
~
Tiger Lilly smiled at that and took the pipe away, placing her hand on Wendy’s back. She rubbed small circles between her shoulder blades until Wendy’s breathing regulated. Wendy had her eyes closed, trying to still her spinning head, and didn’t notice Tiger Lilly’s hand for several minutes. When she began to register the gentle touch, she sunk into it, so much so that she fell back onto the canopy and dragged Tiger Lilly on top of her.
Wendy looked up at the princess with an expression of mild alarm. Tiger Lilly’s plaits fell on either side of Wendy’s head and this made her giggle. The older girl smiled and held the pipe out for Wendy again. This time she took a deeper breath and when she blew the smoke back above her head, she only gave a little cough.
Wendy smiled up at Tiger Lilly, blissful and much warmer.
~
Then Tiger Lilly kissed her. Everything swam together but there she was above her and then on her, lips against her lips. Wendy briefly worried about a forest fire, with the pipe thrown aside, but she couldn’t ignore the princess against her mouth, pushing, tasting and teasing. Wendy had never kissed a boy before, certainly not a girl. But it felt incredible and better than she had dreamt in that bed down below.
And the she felt her nightgown being pulled up, her legs exposed to the crisp, cold air. The heat from Tiger Lilly above her against the chill night.
~
A hand moved beneath her lower back and Wendy arched her spine in response. Tiger Lilly made quick work of the few buttons she found and pulled the nightgown to her, sliding the sleeves along Wendy’s pale arms. As her small breasts were exposed, hard from arousal as well as the cold, Wendy saw colours bloom on Tiger Lilly’s skin. They danced across her collarbones and her shoulders. Wendy wanted more. She pulled at the strap of the Indian girl’s tunic. As the garment fell, Wendy watched the colours skim over the dusky rose canvas with its swells and peaks.
~
Licking the skin in front of her like a cat, in small neat strokes, Wendy felt Tiger Lilly bypass her undergarments and touch her sensitive skin, aflame. She gasped and the growled, latching onto a dark, swollen nipple. The princess groaned and thrust two fingers deep into the welcoming warmth.
~
Wendy moaned and twisted, the stars and Tiger Lilly’s eyes becoming one. She moved against the strong fingers inside her and licked her way up Tiger Lilly’s neck. In her semi-coherent state, she thought she heard a sigh, “Wendy”, before she began to shake and bit into Tiger Lilly’s neck.
Author:
greenovalfruit
Prompt: Drabbletag -
amazon_syren
Fandom: Peter Pan
Pairing: Wendy/Tiger Lilly
Rating: NC-17ish but not terribly graphic
Word count: 1, 801 altogether - Series
A/N: I do have a format, yes I do. 12 drabbles in sequence. 175 w 175 w, 225 w 225 w, 200 w 200 w, 150 w 150 w, 100 w 100 w, 50 w 50 w. The third and fourth drabble are a little over but I tried to keep it under... Ah... ARTISTIC LICENSE *flees*
Also, this is sick and twisted when you try to look at age. But then again, Romeo and Juliet have a lot to answer for as well. You decide.
Summary: "Wonder" - The new name for Weed
Btw, Hi! Newbie! :o) :o) *waves at
giantessmess and
sparklebunny*
One night in Neverland, when the moon was almost full, Wendy climbed out of the home under the ground on a whim she couldn’t quite put reason to. It was far past seven o’clock, when all the little boys went to bed and not-so-far past the time when she would usually doze off to sleep by the fire, some little one’s half darned socks laying in her lap. Suffice to say, it was late enough for Wendy to be anywhere but outside, hidden by the chilly dark shadows and gazing up towards the moonlit treetops.
She shivered in her blue nightgown, not for the first time wishing for longer sleeves and warmer fabric in place of the fashionable silky dress and small puffed sleeves. That was her mother’s choice, romantic that she was. No matter how many times Peter told her that the temperature was always fine in Neverland, Wendy knew the nights were getting colder and darker. The little boys didn’t feel it, tucked away in their innumerable cosy bunk beds, but she did.
~
Rubbing her arms forcefully, she stepped out of the shadows and into the flickering light of the campfire about fifteen paces from where she stood. The Red Skins were still guarding them against pirate attack and it felt comfortable to see the men sitting in a loose circle, passing the peace pipe, watching the lighter smoke mix with the dark, curling vapour above the fire.
One older warrior, with lines on his face that looked to be scratch out by crows feet rather than resembling them, looked up at her briefly and then returned his gaze to the fire. Having served them hot tea in the mornings and brought them a few caught fish from the little boys every other evening, Wendy was quite accustomed to the Indians and they to her. She felt safe knowing they were there.
Reassured, Wendy turned to the tree right next to the entrance of the home under the ground. Its trunk was gigantic and looking straight up its unwavering line, Wendy could see moonlight glinting off the leaves.
~
The unexplainable urge to climb, to move up and away from the ground, struck Wendy again as it had when she was staring into the fire a short time earlier. She placed one hand on the lowest branch, just above her head and hoisted herself off the ground. She began to climb the great tree, continuing to curse her mother’s fashion sense, this time because the nightgown was two long and got in her way. With a violent exhalation of annoyance, Wendy yanked the blue fabric over her knees and le it bunch at the top of her thighs with a silky whisper. The slowly brightening moonlight shone on her pale white skin, muscled from learning to climb these trees, swim in the waters and chase the boys through the grasses of Neverland.
She was always a pretty girl, a wonderful doll for her mother and a child for her father to be proud of. Quiet, dutiful, attractive. But being in Neverland had changed her. She still looked after the boys, many more boys than her usual pair of little brothers, but she was free to run, to develop, to grow. Her muscles were strong and almost pronounced, her hair fell it untamed curls about her shoulders. She never bothered to brush it and put it up like she had in London. She was changing.
~
Wendy noted, as she neared the top of the tree and the moonlight brightened her night vision, the small scratches along the boughs she used to support herself. From the lightness of the exposed wood, she guessed they were made recently. Someone else had climbed the great tree that night. She paused, now at the top of the tree but waiting just below the canopy and in the convenient shadow of a large leaf. She looked out across the top of the tree, bathed in heady moonlight, and spotted a long rosy shadow stretched out on the canopy. A small flare of orange old Wendy that the figure was smoking a pipe and the shape of the lounging body told her that it was Princess Tiger Lilly.
“Come into light, little white mother. Tiger Lilly knows you are there.” The strong voice had a lilt to it that Wendy hadn’t heard before, not even when the princess spoke to Peter. Curious, and blushed from being caught peeping, she climbed up onto the canopy which here, directly above the great tree, was more of a leafy platform than an unstable treetop. She moved over to where the Indian girl lay and sat beside her, leaving a respectful distance between them. No matter the tone of Tiger Lilly’s voice, being welcomed by her was a new thing.
~
They stayed in their respective positions for quite some time, Wendy with her knees pulled to her chest, hands warming her upper arms, and Tiger Lilly lying back, with one hand cushioning her head and the other cradling her pipe. Occasionally, she’d lift the bowl and place the stem between her sanguine lips, letting out a breath of pale grey smoke a few moments later.
To give her something to do other than stare rather forcefully at the leaves next to Tiger Lilly’s left heel, Wendy looked up at the moon that lit their accidental rendezvous. It wasn’t full. She knew because Peter told her. He had worked out a system involving shells and husks pinned to a tree trunk near the beach, that dictated the cycles of the moon. You could always wait for the mermaids to begin howling their dreadful song especially loudly but, as Peter said, you can’t trust mermaids.
The moon wasn’t full but if she hadn’t known it, she may not have guessed. It looked like a gigantic pearl, lit from within and suspended in the night. To alight on Wendy’s fingernails and Tiger Lilly’s naked shoulders, to stand in the silence. Waiting for movement.
~
Wendy cleared her throat and looked down, ostensibly at her knees. But her eyes flicked nervously over her own legs to the older Indian girl’s. Checking Tiger Lilly’s eyes were closed, contemplating some wonder too great to share with an oldest child, Wendy’s gaze slid along the damask skin from ankle to thigh. Even in the moonlight, Tiger Lilly’s heritage was betrayed by her rosy bronze colour. No matter how cold Wendy felt, or maybe because of it, Tiger Lilly looked warm as the sun drenched lagoon.
Her eyes skipped up across the soft tunic made of deerskin, not entertaining curious thoughts as to what might be underneath the lower portion, to the Indian’s loosely covered breasts. No matter if she thought the night cold or Tiger Lilly didn’t, Wendy could see twin nubs pushing through the tunic and the sight made her own nipples harden almost painfully. Uncomfortable with feeling what she was feeling (what was she feeling?) so close to the princess who was usually so cold to her, Wendy pushed her eyes across the single strap over the left shoulder and to the face that pervaded her thoughts. Peaceful, lips slightly apart, white teeth reflecting the moon.
~
Tiger Lilly’s eyes opened and snared Wendy’s gaze effortlessly. Again, Wendy blushed at being caught looking and pulled her knees a little closer to her chest, trying to cover her physical interest. The older Indian girl gave a small, sleepy smile and offered the pipe to Wendy. The mousy blonde shook her head no, lazy curls bouncing about her neck. Tiger Lilly sat up and held the pipe in front of Wendy.
“Try. Share with me, little white mother.” Wendy regarded the offering with apprehension and a little childish fear in her eyes but unfolded herself and accepted the pipe. She looked to Tiger Lilly and placed the stem between her small pink lips. She inhaled a little and took the pipe away, as she’d seen the princess do. There was a moment of silence, where Wendy’s head spun and the stars churned, before she coughed out the smoke noisily.
~
Tiger Lilly smiled at that and took the pipe away, placing her hand on Wendy’s back. She rubbed small circles between her shoulder blades until Wendy’s breathing regulated. Wendy had her eyes closed, trying to still her spinning head, and didn’t notice Tiger Lilly’s hand for several minutes. When she began to register the gentle touch, she sunk into it, so much so that she fell back onto the canopy and dragged Tiger Lilly on top of her.
Wendy looked up at the princess with an expression of mild alarm. Tiger Lilly’s plaits fell on either side of Wendy’s head and this made her giggle. The older girl smiled and held the pipe out for Wendy again. This time she took a deeper breath and when she blew the smoke back above her head, she only gave a little cough.
Wendy smiled up at Tiger Lilly, blissful and much warmer.
~
Then Tiger Lilly kissed her. Everything swam together but there she was above her and then on her, lips against her lips. Wendy briefly worried about a forest fire, with the pipe thrown aside, but she couldn’t ignore the princess against her mouth, pushing, tasting and teasing. Wendy had never kissed a boy before, certainly not a girl. But it felt incredible and better than she had dreamt in that bed down below.
And the she felt her nightgown being pulled up, her legs exposed to the crisp, cold air. The heat from Tiger Lilly above her against the chill night.
~
A hand moved beneath her lower back and Wendy arched her spine in response. Tiger Lilly made quick work of the few buttons she found and pulled the nightgown to her, sliding the sleeves along Wendy’s pale arms. As her small breasts were exposed, hard from arousal as well as the cold, Wendy saw colours bloom on Tiger Lilly’s skin. They danced across her collarbones and her shoulders. Wendy wanted more. She pulled at the strap of the Indian girl’s tunic. As the garment fell, Wendy watched the colours skim over the dusky rose canvas with its swells and peaks.
~
Licking the skin in front of her like a cat, in small neat strokes, Wendy felt Tiger Lilly bypass her undergarments and touch her sensitive skin, aflame. She gasped and the growled, latching onto a dark, swollen nipple. The princess groaned and thrust two fingers deep into the welcoming warmth.
~
Wendy moaned and twisted, the stars and Tiger Lilly’s eyes becoming one. She moved against the strong fingers inside her and licked her way up Tiger Lilly’s neck. In her semi-coherent state, she thought she heard a sigh, “Wendy”, before she began to shake and bit into Tiger Lilly’s neck.