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#peter pan imagines
chloe-skywalker · 4 months
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Threats - Peter Pan
Peter x Fem!Reader
Warnings: nothing really
Word count: 411
Summary: Peter getting angry when someone threatens you infront of him.
Masterlist
Once Upon A Time Masterlist
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“Peter!” Y/n yells out as she’s grabbed by the Evil Queen with a ball of magic near her face.
“Regina.” MarryMargret worried for the young girl currently being held in Regina's tight hold with a magic ball of purple flames near her face.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Peter growled with narrowed eyes once he turned towards where his lost girl called for him in distress.
“Give us back Henry and I won’t hurt your little lost girl.” Regina bargained.
“Regina, we don't need to threaten anyone.” Emma spoke up telling Regina, looking at the young girl a couple years older than their Henery.
“I agree Lass. Not a good idea. Especially not a good idea to threaten her specifically.” Hook stepped forward gesturing with his hook to the girl in Regina’s grip.
“And why’s that Pirate?” Regina rolled her eyes at all the pleading to let the Y/h/c-ed girl go.
“She’s not just a lost girl. She’s Pan’s lost girl.” Hook stated to the Evil Queen.
“No duh.” Regina scoffed.
“What KIllian means is she is mine. Let go of her. Now.” Peter walks closer getting increasingly more angry every minute Y/n was still being held against her will.
“Or what?” Regina gripped Y/n tighter, testing Pan’s limits and to see if he’s bluffing.
“You’ll regret it.” Peter grumbled with a really dark look on his face. “Don’t forget this is my island and your son’s life is in my hands. What do you think I’ll do if you hurt my Y/n?”
“Regina” MaryMargaret pleads for her to let the girl go, trying to sound more stern. Not wanting to have Peter hurt Henery in any way as retaliation.
“Let her go.” David added with worried eyes for them, Henry, and Y/n. KNowing what Regina is capable of, they were all worried for Y/n.
Regina sighed and loosened her grip on Y/n and the second Peter noticed he grabbed his lost girl and pulled her into him.
“Don’t lay a finger on her again.” Peter practically snarled at the StoryBrooke gang and he checked Y/n over for injuries. Before giving the signal for them all to retreat.
“Thank you.” Y/n turned around to look back at Emma, Hook, David and MaryMargret with an innocent smile.
Peter smiled at her manners, that's his Y/n. And it was entertaining to see their shocked faces at her thanks.
Taglist: @padawancat97
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queen-of-fanfics · 11 months
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I Told You To Stay
Pairing: Peter Pan x Reader
Prompt: Peter told you to stay.
A/N: Ayoooo lol I'm alive. Anywho Y'ALL I GRADUATED COLLEGE and the first thing I accomplished after was writing this fanfic. How have y'all been? Now I have some free time and a desk job so I have time to write more. I literally got the idea for this scenario from a dream I had. So... This one gets a little heated but nothing explicit.
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"Where do you think you're going?" Peter teases you as he grabs your arm to spin you around.
You were the second Lost Girl to have ever made it to the island. The first will always be Wendy. Wendy continues to be the mother figure around the island while you were free to run off hunting and exploring with the Lost Boys. You could never shake the feeling that either Wendy hated you or envied you. She would be stuck cooking and caring for the boy while you were almost like a sister. You two never got along too well, the feeling of competition was always there.
The second that you came to the island and met everyone, it was no surprise that Peter was the one that caught your eye. 
However, you were always hesitant to let any hope blossom in you since you thought that Peter and Wendy were together. And if they weren’t, she would have first dibs on him anyway. But that fact never stopped your crush and admiration of him from growing. Day in and day out, you were running through the forests with him and protecting the Lost Boys together. 
Tonight was a quiet and warm night and everyone had had their dinners and was heading to bed. Wendy had made dinner and stayed back at the camp to clean up. You were heading towards your cabin before Peter grabbed your arm.
“You aren’t going to bed already, are you?” Peter asked with his usual smirk.
“Why, huh? You got something in mind worth my while?”
“Only one way to find out, I suppose.” He hides his smile from you as he leads you into the forest. That leads to where you are now. Running through the trees and climbing up the cliff as Peter is bounding off in front of you.
Coming to a stop behind Peter, you drop your hands to your knees and your head drops to start gasping for air. “Are we there yet? I feel like my lungs are going to explode!”
All of a sudden you’re squealing in delight because Peter ran over to you and scooped you into the air, carrying you bridal style. He takes off flying and your arms shoot out and wrapped around his neck. 
“What are you doing?!” 
“Taking you up to see the stars!” He yelled over the whistling wind as you continued laughing until tears formed in your eyes. 
Daring to peek over his shoulders, you gasp at the beautiful aerial view of the island before he dives and does a giant loop in the air. Hugging him close, you shove your face into his neck and breathe in his scent. Though the night was cool, you felt warm against him. Wanting this moment to last forever but you know it can’t, you decide that you will hold this memory so you can always relive this happiness that you feel. 
Feeling dizzy either from the adrenaline or from him, you rest your head against him and press a soft kiss on his neck. 
Suddenly, Peter tosses you lightly into the air and you are airborne before he catches you but now your position has changed. Now you are sitting, straddling his hips, as his hands come to your behind to carry your weight. Your arms wrap around his neck again but now you are face-to-face with him. 
As a blush covers your face, you whisper, “Well hi there.” 
He gives you a small smile as he looks at your thorough hooded eyes, “Much better don’t you think? Now I can see you.” 
You sit there, chest to chest with breaths mingling, completely suspended in the air over a cliff. “What are we doing, Y/N?” His whisper caresses your skin and he leans in just a little bit closer.
“What do you mean?” You can’t help but do the same, almost like a string pulling you to him.
“You know exactly what I mean. Have you casted a spell on me? Making me dream of you every night and thinking of you every minute the sun is up? Have you made yourself my personal magnet to me so I can never not be near you? Are you bewitching me?” He continues to whisper as one of his hands drags up your body and grips the back of your neck, pulling you in closer until your noses are barely touching. 
Your breaths are coming out shaking but your fingers find their way to his hand and you tighten your hold, desperately keeping him close. 
“What if it’s you that is playing with my head?”
Your lips are brushing against each other but not quite touching. Your brain fogs with desire but it’s all pulled away from you as Peter abruptly pulls away and starts flying back to land.
“Wha-” You’re dizzy from the sudden change but you aren’t able to be stable on your feet before Peter is hurriedly pulling you through the trees. Silently giggling and running through the forest, your heart is beating out of your chest. 
Coming to a clearing, you see a small and simple log cabin sitting by itself. There are a few steps leading up to a porch that surrounds the little cabin. 
“Where are we, Peter?”
“This is my place.” He finally slows down to a stop.
He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you as he shoves his face into the crook of your neck. The movement pulls a giggle out of your throat but you don’t take your eyes off the cute cottage.
“I thought you had a tent back at the campsite with everyone else, hm? Are you keeping secrets from us now?” You tease.
“I always have secrets, don’t you know. But this is my own quiet place. I come here when I need to think. Or when I’m scheming.” He tickles your sides and gives your neck a quick kiss before he straightens. “Come on, let’s go inside.” He takes your hand and walks you into the cabin. 
The inside of the cabin matches its look on the outside. Comfortable. Simple. Nothing extravagant. The main room is open. One side seems to act as a dining room with a large table with a few chairs beside it. The other side of the room has a matching large table but this table is covered in maps, scrolls, trinkets, and many other items you did not recognize. You see a door towards the back of the cabin which you could tell leads to a bedroom.  
“Here, let me get you some water before you pass out on me.” 
But before Peter could take a step or before you could even respond, a voice calls out from the back room.
“Peter darling? Did you just get home?”
The blood drains from your face and your eyes grow to saucers as you see Wendy walk out of the back room. Your ears started ringing and it feels as though everything is happening so fast yet so slowly. 
Peter marches over to Wendy and angrily argues with her though you couldn’t hear anything over the muffling in your ears. “What are you doing here? Who said you could be here?”
“What are you talking about, baby? Don’t be like that.” 
Wendy tries to run her hands up Peter’s front side but her hands do not get far before he grabs her hands and throws them off of him. 
Your eyes shoot back and forth between Peter and Wendy and you could hear yourself mumbling, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t-” You hadn’t realized that you were backing up until you felt the front door hit your back. 
Before you knew it, Peter was in front of you. All you could do was stare up at him with your heart ready to leap out of your chest. You were confused and hurt and scared and you wanted to be mad. But looking up at him. With his face soft and full of worry. All you could do was trust. Trust in what, you weren’t sure. But a wave of calmness fell over you as you looked at him and his hands came up to softly grip your shoulders. 
Peter was gently moving you through the cabin and you could hear Wendy protesting but you couldn’t clear your head enough to hear what she was saying. Peter leads you to the back room which is his bedroom. He sits you on his bed and whispers to you, “Stay here.” 
“Peter, I can go. I should’ve known you two were together. I shouldn’t be here, I can go.” But before you could make a move for the door, Peter grips your face gently but firmly, “I said ‘stay here’. I will figure this out. I’m not with her. She isn’t welcome here. You. Stay. Here.” 
Peter slammed the door behind him as he left and all you could do was sit on the bed as you were told. Looking around the room, there wasn’t much there to keep you entertained. There was a nightstand by the bed with a few nicknacks on it. A desk with papers covered in writing you couldn’t read. No pictures. No posters. Nothing. Twiddling your thumbs, you tried to not overthink. You sat as patiently as you could but as the minutes ticked by and their angry whispering didn't stop, your anxiety started to kick up.
What if he is lying? Why would she just randomly be here? She’s comfortable enough coming in and out of his place like that. He could just be telling me what I want to hear. Of course, they’re together. Even a blind person could see that they were together. When did I become so dumb?! I need to get out of here. 
Your breathing starts to become more rapid as your mind starts spiraling. Looking around the room, there was only one door, and that led back to the main room where Peter and Wendy are. The only other thing in the room was a window that sat above the desk. That was your ticket out. You thank the stars that you weren’t on an upstairs floor or anything or else this escape plan was going to be harder than you thought.
Swinging the window wide enough for your body to fit through, you quietly climbed up onto the table, careful not to disturb anything, and started to push out. You managed to make your way out but you accidentally made a loud thump as your body hit the back deck. Before you could stop and think about what to do, you jumped to your feet and took off running into the forest. 
You ran until your lungs burned and ran some more. All around you were trees, trees, and more trees. Everything looked the same yet you didn’t recognize where you were. “Shit I should have been paying attention on the way here. Where the fuck am I?”
Coming to a stop, you drop your hands to your knees to try and catch your breath. After a few deep breaths, you stand up tall and prepare to take off again, at a more reasonable pace this time that you’re far enough away.
But before you could head off, something flies into you and you go slamming back into a tree. A warm, hard body pushes up against you and holds you flush against the tree with no room to escape. It’s still too dark in the night and the trees are blocking the moonlight so you can’t see what has you pinned. You start wiggling around and try to use your hands to push yourself free but a hand wraps around your wrists and pins them above your head. Something comes close to your ear and you could feel the anger radiating from this figure.
“I thought I told you to stay.”
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heliads · 10 months
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like a heartbeat, drives you mad
From the moment you first dream of Neverland, you know that it's a home unlike any other. Waking up is terrible every time, but what if you were able to find a way to stay there forever?
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You are always alone when the thoughts catch up to you. When you’re with other people, it’s different, easier to convince your mind to race to better, safer topics. You don’t have to think about the fears or the worries, you just have to keep up with the conversation or do your best to not seem like the person you’re terrified you truly are. Everything hinges on the one other person there, distracting you from the relentless parade of thoughts, keeping you firmly in reality.
When you’re alone, though, you can’t hide anymore. You wave goodbye to your friends to head inside, and with your hand on the knob, you think, did they really want to see me? And, was that laughter genuine, or were they faking it the whole time? Worse, was it at me?
Things get worse once it gets dark. You lie awake at night thinking that you’ll fail at everything, that no one will want to associate with you after that, that everyone on this earth is going to live and die and no one will ever remember you again. You don’t like thinking along such dark lines, but the self-hatred is strong and won’t let you go. You’ve tried before, shaking it off, but it always comes creeping back when you want it the least.
Life is not the best, but at least the fall of dusk upon the streets and surroundings of your hometown brings you the blessing of finally being able to go to bed. You can push off schoolwork until the next day, chores until forever, just so long as you can shut off your mind and crawl under your covers and everything will go away.
Tonight is one of those nights when you want it most of all. It’s been a long day, followed by a long week, chased by an even longer month. You can only tell yourself that it’ll get better soon for so long before even that familiar lie loses its charm. It’ll be good to rest tonight, though. Maybe tomorrow will make you happier. You close your eyes and try to sleep, all but begging unconsciousness to fall over you and carry you away. Your waking life is horrid enough. In sleep, at least, you will be alone, but–
In your dream, there is a boy. He was not there before. He is, in fact, nobody you have ever seen before. This should not be a problem. Dreams are rarely perfectly photographic, but this boy is, indeed, perfect. He’s absolutely in focus, blurred by none of that dreamlike haze that most figures cling to in your subconscious. It’s like a memory, but it’s never happened. It’s like reality, but you are still definitely asleep.
You stare at him for longer than is perhaps polite, but he does not go away. You can feel this dream in a way that should not be possible– the carpet under your feet, the cool of the air conditioning. You’re in your room, standing by the door. He’s perched on a chair, eyeing you with interest, and as bizarre as this dream is, you cannot shake the absolute certainty that this is his fault.
The only thing to be left, then, is to get some answers. You work up the confidence to speak, and your voice sounds exactly as it should, not distorted by dreams or anything. “Who are you?”
The boy chuckles. “A friend of yours. Hopefully, that is. I’d like to get to know you.”
Having gone a record number of years of your life without any hyperrealistic boys disrupting your dreaming schedule, especially ones who specifically wanted to meet you of all people, this only adds to your confusion. “Why?”
The boy shrugs liberally. “I’ve been encountering fewer and fewer dreamers around. Yours are the most vibrant. I was curious.”
You fight the odd urge to laugh. “A lot of people dream. Maybe you’re just bad at looking.”
This is, of course, the most rational thing you can do, immediately pick a fight with some guy currently terrorizing your brainwaves. Luckily, he doesn’t seem offended by your need to argue, and he just grins. “See, you’re right, but most dreams are nothing more than surface level. Yours are deeper, richer, stronger. In all honesty, that’s the sort of thing that makes me more powerful, so I wanted to see what it was about.”
You scoff. “Sure thing, magic boy, you, like, eat dreams or something. Weird of you, but okay.”
He smiles again. He shouldn’t, but he does. “You don’t believe me? I can show you.”
He stands, holds out a hand to you. You’re certain this guy’s nothing more than a figment of your imagination, but still. You hesitate. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Peter,” he says, “but magic boy works too.”
It makes you laugh. Shouldn’t, but it does. Just enough to shake loose your hesitations– what could happen here, after all, in the confines of your own dreams? You take his hand and something sparks behind his eyes. Pride, maybe. Or justification of some sort. Either way, you get the feeling that he’s just proven himself right.
Peter walks over to your window, throwing it open abruptly and climbing out onto the ledge. “You have to trust me,” he tells you, “or this isn’t going to work very well.”
You want to argue with him that you have absolutely no reason to trust him at all, but for some reason you’re already crawling out the window before you can get the words out. Your body trusts him, even as your mind doubts it. Strange, but nothing about this makes sense, anyway.
Peter straightens up slowly, bringing you with him. “Are you ready?”
“For what?” You ask, concerned.
His eyes dance with mischief. “For this,” he calls out, and he pulls you from the ledge.
There is a terrible moment of falling, when the only sure thing is his hand still wrapped around yours. You are plummeting towards the ground with dreadful speed, but then you’re not, and you’re leveling out again, the two of you pulled through the air as if by some invisible string.
The wind whips through Peter’s hair as the two of you soar through the air. “How is it?” He shouts over to you.
You laugh delightedly. “Fantastic.” It’s almost a pity it isn’t real. The fact that it feels so true but isn’t is almost more heartbreaking as if nothing had felt like reality in the slightest.
Before you know it, you and Peter are well beyond the reaches of your town, or even your country. Dark waters skim by underneath you, the waves of some foreign sea. Thousands of stars twinkle above you, Peter points out a few, shouts, second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning, that’ll get us there. You frown at him, call back, where? And he laughs, delighted in the thought of all that you have soon to experience, and screams, Neverland! at the top of his lungs.
It sounds like a joyous place. It is, from the moment you step foot on its pearlescent beaches, and later still, when you’re striding through the lush forests towards a campsite. It’s all a blur from that moment onwards, a swirl of new faces running towards you and laughing at your jokes, the clash of swords without a trace of fear, promises that you’ll love this even better, or that, or everything.
It is paradise. You do a hundred things and never tire. The Lost Boys who meet you, take you by storm, and obviously enjoy the company of a newcomer. Throughout all of it, Peter watches, tucked into the shadow of a tree trunk, arms folded across his chest with that satisfied smile on his face again. He does not approach until earlier into the morning, once dawn starts bleeding out beneath the blushing fingers of the rising sun.
“We have to go back,” he tells you at last, slipping out from his hideaway to step carefully to your side, “Or, you do, at least.”
The memory that none of this is real comes crashing down upon you, and you can feel the ecstasy of this whole night leaving you in a flash. “Right,” you say, “This is just a dream. Forgot about that.”
The thought that you’ll have to wake up and go to school and exist again as a normal person without any of this wonder that you’d just experienced makes you feel sick and saddened. Peter shakes his head, eyes soft. “You don’t necessarily have to wake up, but you should. You can come back soon, though.”
You laugh bitterly. “Of course I can, dream boy. I’m going to forget all of this by morning.”
He frowns. “Do you want to?”
“No,” you insist, “but I don’t think I have a choice.”
“You do,” Peter tells you, “You always have a choice. Always.”
With that, he takes your hand, and pulls just so. You stumble forward, caught off balance, and when you look up again, you’re in your room. Same four walls, same ceiling, same everything. You know somehow that this is the dream no longer, even without mysterious boys or wonderful islands in front of you.
A dreadful sigh leaves your lungs, carrying only heartbreak and misery. What a pity, to have such a magnificent dream and then have to leave it. Knowing that none of it was real is perhaps one of the worst agonies you have ever encountered in your life.
Or– was it not real after all? There’s something clenched in your hand, and you raise it slowly, uncurling the fingers one by one. What falls neatly onto your lap is a stone, polished to perfection by centuries of tides. It’s like no stone you’ve ever seen around here, shiny in a way that nothing natural is. It’s dark and lovely and– and it’s exactly like the ones on the shores of Neverland when you first touched down. There was no way you could have gotten it anywhere but there. That means that you were there after all, and that it’s real, it’s all real.
You go throughout the day in a haze, barely able to focus long enough to remember where you’re supposed to be going. None of it matters, though, not even the snide comments of your teachers or the questioning looks from your peers. Nothing matters, because the second the day ends and night creeps back around you, you know it’s time.
You have a brief moment of terror just before you fall asleep when you wonder if you can get back after all, that perhaps that was just a one time thing. No, you decide firmly, I want it. I’m going.
And, when you open your eyes to that same slightly uncanny feeling of the dream before, you know it, you can get back. Peter isn’t here this time, but that doesn’t stop you from racing to your window and throwing open the sash. You leap out into the air again blindly, reaching for the stars even before your feet leave the threshold. You won’t get hurt, none of this is real. All of this is real, that’s why you can fly into the air again, caught by an unseen hand. Second star to the right. Straight on until morning. You know the way. You couldn’t forget it if you tried.
The beaches of Neverland are empty, but you charge forward anyway, nearly tripping over tree roots and loose plants as you hurry through the forest. You can just see the lights of the camp, and then, yes, you’re into the clearing, and you’re greeted by shouts of glee and joy. Peter’s waiting for you at last, slowly clapping with the rest of the boys.
“You made it,” he says, evidently proud, “We wanted to see if you could.”
“Of course I can,” you tell him, laughing, “I made that choice.”
“That you did,” Peter says, and the celebrations begin.
It is quite possibly the best time of your entire life. You repeat this process day after day, slogging through your daylight hours with the end goal of being able to fall asleep and go back to Neverland, back to your Lost Boys, back to Peter. Nothing matters but the island. They all get along with you better than any friend you’ve ever made on the mainland.
The journey takes a shorter and shorter time, gone in the blink of an eye, and half the time you just wake up on the shores anyway, so familiar is the destination to you. You learn archery, throw knives, spar with the boys, shriek and shout and spin around the campfire. It’s fantastic, all of it, but that only makes the morning even worse in your opinion.
For, no matter how excellent of a night you had on Neverland, you always have to go back. Always. Peter takes your hand and he gives you that same look, that expression of regret and acceptance, and promises to see you later, to see you soon. Then you’re back in your house, and every time, the storm of homesickness and grief at no longer being on your island pulls you under.
It makes you think, though. On your first night on Neverland, Peter had said something strange about how you didn’t necessarily have to wake up. Perhaps it fits in with what he’s been telling you about how everything is just a choice. Maybe he’s been waiting for you to want that choice, the one to live here forever. It’s one you’d make in a heartbeat if you could only do it.
Curious, though, you start looking around at the other Lost Boys. They had to have gotten here somehow, right? One night you see one of them arrive, ferried over by a strange shadowy thing that looks far more terrifying than the whirlwind flight you’d had with Peter.
You ask one of the Lost Boys about it that night, interested to know why you were brought by Peter and this newcomer wasn’t. Apparently, though, you were the anomaly, not this boy.
“Usually Pan makes his shadow bring newcomers over,” the boy tells you matter-of-factly, “but I guess he wanted to impress you or something.”
You frown. “Why?”
The boy lifts a shoulder, evidently unbothered by the whole affair. “You’re the last of the dreamers, I guess he wants to keep you around or something.”
It’s an unhelpful answer, all things considered, and basically just what Peter had told you in your dream bedroom that first night. Still, the story is consistent, at least, and it makes you even more certain that Peter wants you to stay. You’re one of the dreamers, right? Why wouldn’t he want you to stay here forever, at least to keep his magic strong if not for the obvious friendship the two of you have had since the very first time you met?
You resolve to bring it up to Peter the next night. You’ve barely been on Neverland for an hour or two before you pull Peter aside and tell him what’s been on your mind for the longest time.
The breath out of your lungs is shaky, but you’re determined to get this right. “I want to stay in Neverland,” you tell him. “Forever, I mean. Not waking up. I want you to bring me here in real life. You always say that we have to make choices, and this is mine. I choose Neverland.”
Peter nods slowly, and you’re almost getting up your hopes that he’ll be accepting when he starts to speak. “That certainly would be an important choice. I would have to choose to bring you, though.”
You incline your head once. “Yeah, that’s why I’m asking you now. I mean, we’re friends, right? You and me, and the rest of the Lost Boys get along with me, too. I belong here, you know that. You brought me here in the first place, at least let me stay.”
He’s not saying anything. Why isn’t he saying anything? After too many minutes, Peter sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “Dreaming is one thing. Actually living here is something else entirely.”
“I know,” you say, starting to get impatient, “I’ve thought about this a lot, trust me, but I feel more alive on your island than I have in the real world. This is my home, Peter. You made it my home.”
Peter stares at you, the ground, his hands, and back to you. “No,” he says at last.
It feels as if you have fallen off of a tall cliff, condemned to tumble down forever in endless emptiness. “What? Why wouldn’t you– you’ve let me come here every night for months, but actually being on this island for good is too much for you? Peter, was any of this actually real to you? Was I just here as a temporary thing while you tried to harness the power of a dreamer or something?”
Peter shakes his head quickly. “No, no. It wasn’t about that. You’re as good as one of my Lost Boys–”
You cut him off, feeling the horror build in your chest with every passing second. “But never actually one of them, right? I can hang around during my nights but I will never be one of them, because you don’t really want me here. If you did, you would have brought me like all the others.”
You want to scream and cry, perhaps both. You’ve trusted him and, hell, even loved him, more than anyone else. Peter was the one thing in between you and complete melancholy. He’s turned your whole life around, given you reason after reason to keep going, but he does not want you around for good. Maybe he doesn’t even want you around at all.
He’s trying to say something, come up with some excuse that’ll somehow exempt him from your heartbreak, but anger is quickly outweighing sadness in your mind and you won’t let him. “No,” you say shakily, “If you never intended to keep me, I won’t waste our time. Why have me here at all?”
Peter’s eyes widen. “Wait, please–”
You never hear the end of his sentence. You’ve woken yourself up from this glorious dream enough to be able to do it all by yourself, and you do it now. When you open your eyes, it’s still dark outside, several hours from morning, but it’s over now, it’s all over.
You know that with certainty. You’ll never be going back. If Peter does not want you, and it is suddenly crystal clear that he does not, or he would have already taken you to Neverland and never fought it, then you will not trouble him with your presence any longer. This is what he wants, even if it destroys you. 
It’s funny, realizing how much being on Neverland transformed your life. Your waking hours suddenly seem longer, the days filled with more dread and dullness than they ever had before. You had been miserable before you dreamed of Peter and the Lost Boys, and now that misery is back in full force. You compel yourself to forget him, to forget everything that had happened on that island, but picking up the pieces is a far harder task than you had ever anticipated.
Days pass. Weeks. Months. At first, you have to force yourself to wake up from that dream again and again, catching yourself with the image of second stars to the right even as you promised yourself that you would never think of it again, but it gets easier as time goes by. That hurts more than it should, but you have no other choice. Peter does not put himself in your dreams again. You do not show up to Neverland. Everything is exactly as it was before, but worse, because now you have those memories of a time that was far better than this one.
You’re walking home from school one day when you’re reminded of Neverland again. It’s a strong memory, forcing itself to the front of your mind. Green trees, the leaves waving overhead. The breeze whipping at your face. You can’t imagine why you’d be thinking of it again, and then you turn a corner and he’s there in front of you. 
Peter.
It’s impossible. You’re not dreaming, so he shouldn’t be here unless– unless he actually came here. You stand stock-still, hardly daring to breathe, and Peter looks back at you, just as shaken even though he’s the one who came all this way.
“I miss you,” he says slowly, unsteadily. You’ve never seen Peter hesitant, or ever show any sign of a lapse in his typical cocky confidence. Not until now, that is. Truly, he has no idea how you will treat him now that you’ve already left once before and gotten away with it.
“I know,” you tell him, “I know.”
Peter tilts his head to the side, trying to get a read on you. “Did you miss me?”
You take a step to the side, looking at the nearby scenery, anything but him. “Yes. Parts of it. I missed running with the Lost Boys under the trees. I missed the bonfires and the dancing. And yes, I think I missed you. But I hated feeling like you didn’t want me there, and for a while, that was enough to make me think I didn’t miss you.”
Peter’s eyes are wide, twin emeralds twinkling in the quiet air. “And what about now that I’m here? Can you miss me now?”
“I can,” you decide at last. You do. You have, and seeing him again has ripped open a fresh wound you swore had already healed. Blood is oozing around your fingers, but for some reason being with him still takes away the pain of such a grievous blow.
Peter holds out a hand to you. He’s trembling slightly, far less sure of himself than he’d been in a dream of your bedroom many months ago. Still. He wants you even now.
“Come back with me,” he says, “Back to Neverland. We all need you. I need you. You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to. It was always your home, I didn’t realize it before. It could be your home again.”
You look at him. It’s been a long time. You’ve grown up in the time since you last stepped foot on the island, but strangely enough, you think he has too. That’s why you’re able to take his hand at last, and trust that he will not let you down again. He needs you, just like he said. As it turns out, you need him too.
Peter’s smile is radiant. “Shall we go back, then?”
You allow yourself to smile back at last. “I think we will.”
ouat tag list: @lovesanimals0000, @eclliipsed, @w1shes43, @lost-ender
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neverland93 · 1 year
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Peter Pan imagine/ Villain
You and Peter are deep in the woods having a conversation and things get heated …
“My fault , I forgot you were fragile.” Peter said with such an attitude
“Excuse me?!” You almost yelled
“I forgot someone who doesn’t even know me says I’m an asshole.” He folded his arms
“You’re referring to my sister?” You asked
He shook his head yes with such anger
“So funny how someone can be such judgmental but I’m the villain.” He says mad
“Peter you know Emma just wants what’s best for me , and she just wants me to stay in storybrook with her and the others.” You say
“You know you think she’d forget I’m the better choice for you.” He says
“Oh yeah?” You smile “How so?” You say
“You’re happier with me, I spread positivity. “ he leans on a tree
You giggle
“Peter I’m sure it has nothing to do with you.” You say reassuring him
“Oh I know it’s not , it’s self hatred.” He says
“What do you mean?” You ask
“”Y/n your sister hates me, and hatred comes from people who hate their own existence.” He says
“That’s not true.” You say with a little offensive tone
“Maybe in better off alone if you agree with her.” He says
“That’s not what I meant I’m just saying you should give her a break.” You walk towards him
Peter walks to you , lifting up your chin, looks into your eyes and smiles in such a wicked way
“It’s fine Y/n I’ll be the villain, because hero’s, let me tell you something about hero’s. A hero will sacrifice you for the great or good, but since I am a villain, I have no heart, therefore… I will burn this world for you.” He whispered in your ear.
He walks away leaving you speechless.
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marblebarble · 13 days
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Sun - Peter Pan/gn Reader
warnings // none. this is more or less a comfort read for anybody who needs it.
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"Come away with me," he said. "Come away, and they'll never make us go anywhere or do anything ever again."
It is very common knowledge that life isn't fair.
As a child, you understood that before a lot of your friends did. You were forced to grow up fast. You were always a little different, a little misplaced, and often alone. School was a place of stress and home wasn't as sweet as they made it look in the movies.
When you were a little kid, you'd escape into stories; Worlds of adventure and wonder where you could be whatever you wanted. You could save princesses and princes. You could sail a raft through storms using the stars. You could fly.
But stories don't protect you from the world. You had to let them go eventually. So life became studying and applications, part time jobs and debt, losing touch with your few friends and constantly grappling with the feeling that you'd lost *something* a long time ago.
It was a winter night and you sat in your car, far away from home. The stupid thing had broken down on you, and you'd just managed to pull to the side of the road in the middle of a town you didn't recognize. You shivered and climbed into the backseat, bundling up in your jacket and praying that you'd fall asleep before the chill began to ache your bones.
After a while, for seemingly no reason at all, you began to cry. Softly, with the tears being the only thing to warm your cheeks. It was just so dark, so freezingly uncomfortable, and you'd just realized that there was nothing in your life that you really wanted to return to.
What were you missing? You weren't a child anymore, so why did you still feel this way? Why couldn't you just be normal, like every other functioning human being on the planet? Why did you feel so heavy?
Suddenly, something else was warming your cheek- a soft hand caressing your face and wiping a tear away.
You jolted, automatically jumping to the other side of the back seat. You stared at the window, which you didn't remember rolling down. Outside of the car was the face of a boy.
It was hard to make out his features for two reasons. One, it was dark.
Two, he was hanging upside down.
But hanging from what? The top of your car?
Either way, his bright eyes peered at you with an unruly head of hair hanging from his head. You were too startled (and cold) to speak.
"Hello, angel," he said softly. His voice was... warm, and somehow inherently playful.
You stared at him in confusion. "...what?"
"You're an angel," he said sincerely, cocking his head to the side. "Aren't you?"
".....what?" You leaned forward a little, trying to get a better view of him. "Why are you... How are you...?"
As if suspended in tue air, his head turned upright like a dial and you had to guess that the rest of his body was turning with it. "You're cold," he observed simply. He flashed an inherently boyish smile. "Sillly one. You're not wearing any furs. If you stay like that, you're just asking to get sick."
You blinked at him before sniffling. You looked out of the windows and saw that there were no nearby houses with the lights on, nor any cars stopped nearby. He must have just wandered up to you from the road. Maybe he was hitchhiking, or homeless. Either way, he seemed harmless enough, and it was absolutely freezing outside. "I'm sorry," you said gently, "you must be cold, too. Do you want to sit in here until morning?"
The boy looked at you curiously before nodding. You opened the door and he poked his head in suspiciously. He looked around as if he'd never been inside a car before. He crawled carefully inside and sat next to you, shutting the door behind him.
You could see him much better, now. He seemed the same age as you, probably in his late teens. His clothes were... strange. You were slightly more convinced that he was homeless, now. The dirt smudged on his skin attested to that.
"I can turn the heater on," you offered, "but only for a while."
He turned to look at you. "Why were you crying?" He asked, ignoring your words. "I didn't know angels cried."
Despite yourself, you gave a small smile. "I'm not an angel," you said, feeling silly.
He quirked his brow and smiled as if he didn't believe you. "Yes, you are. I've heard stories about them. They're strong and beautiful, like mermaids with wings. And they sing, too! You sing. I've heard you."
You blinked at him, before realizing that you'd been trying to hum yourself to sleep while you'd been crying. He must have heard you through the window.
He might have been crazy, but something about him charmed you. As the two of you spoke, you exanged stories about home. You told him about the stress, about making other people happy and struggling all the time. He would interject only to ask questions- more than once inquiring if any of this made you happy. More than once, you found yourself being depressingly honest.
He told you stories about his home. You didn't believe it for a second, but he seemed to believe it, so you didn't protest. He came up with adventures about pirates and mermaids, about living on a magic island where the winter never came and all the things that had ruined this world never made it to the shores of Neverland.
You couldn't help but listen to him eagerly, like a child absorbing stories they knew could not be real but loved anyway.
It was evident that he loved talking to you. He became animated, miming things out with his hands and reenacting swordfights the best he could in the cramped space of the car. When you laughed, he glowed.
He talked about the boys that he lived with- either friends or maybe siblings of his. He spoke about one of them, who had told him about angels in the first place.
"He told me that angels lose their wings sometimes," he continued. His bright eyes scanned you with interest. "I think you lost yours. Unless you're hiding them beneath your coat, but I don't think they'd fit under there- unless you have little wings like a fairy. But you're too big-"
Suddenly, a firefly zipped in through the window. It flew over the boy's head and began flying around the inside of the car. It even flew into your face, and you gave a little yelp.
The boy chuckled and picked the bug out of the air, holding it in his palm. "I told you to let me talk to them. You don't make good first impressions."
The bug chimed back at him, talking like the sound of a bell.
"No, that's not what I- Well, yes, Tink, but- Okay, okay! You can have one look, but then you've got to let us be. You promised."
The firefly fluttered out of his hand and once again passed by your face. It settled down on your knee. You had half a mind to swat it away, but as you stared at it, you began to see a strange shape in the glow.
Your eyes widened and you gasped. It was a little... person. A fairy. She perched atop your knee and looked up at you, studying you appraisingly. She turned to look at the boy and spoke with her chiming voice in way you could not understand.
"I'm Peter."
You turned to look at the boy and he grinned at you. "Peter Pan. Her name's Tinkerbell, but she also answers to 'royal inconvenience'."
The fairy shook her hand at him and seemed to be scolding him. A sense of wonder filled you and you laughed at the sheer strangeness of the situation. "Oh, hello, Tinkerbell." You looked at her with your eyes shimmering and looked back to Peter. "She's very pretty."
The fairy seemed pleased at that. She flew up to your cheek, patted it kindly, as then began to explore the rest of your car. She seemed to enjoy looking through the miscellaneous trinkets in your glove box.
"That's a fairy," you whispered, watching her excitedly. "A real one. Oh my god."
But Peter only watched you. Something twinkled in his eyes, something knowing that seemed beyond his years and seperate from his boyishness.
"Angels don't belong with other people," he said. "They belong in the sky. In a good place, with other angels like them."
You weren't sure what to say, so he kept going. "I have a shadow. He's a quick, mischievous thing, but he completes me, I guess. You, however."
He scooted forward, ignoring any common semblance of personal space between strangers. His eyes scanned you curiously. "You look like you are a shadow. Like the bright part of you has been put away into another room. Maybe it's gone back up to the sky, or maybe you lost it when you lost your wings."
You still weren't sure what to say. Without any warning, you felt the tears want to well up, again. He saw it, and frowned with sympathy. He reached a hand out and caressed your face, the same way he had before. You closed your eyes and melted into the warmth. "Don't cry. It's okay. Please, don't cry."
You sniffled and hid your face in your hands. You heard him shuffle around in the crambed back seat, before he pulled you into his arms and held you to him. He was so warm, like the sun sat inside of him. He put one hand on your head and tucked you beneath his chin.
"It's too cold for an angel, here," he said. "Let me take you somewhere warm."
You chuckled gently. " 'm not an angel."
"A fairy, then. You're a little fairy who can't fly. They won't let you fly, here. They can't teach you how."
He pushed away to look at you. "But I can," he said proudly. "I can show you."
Tinkerbell's voice chimed, and you both watched as she zipped around the car before zooming out of the window. She did circles around you, shining like a shooting star through the windows. It was beautiful.
Then, she aimed up towards the sky and never came back down
"Where is she going?" You whispered.
"Home," laughed Peter. He opened the door and crawled out excitedly. He took your hand and pulled you with him. "If we go now, we can get there before morning. I can show you the stars, and we can help hunt for breakfast, as maybe even ruin Hook's beauty sleep-"
But he tugged at your hand and staggered. He looked back at you. You weren't moving. You were still in the car.
You looked at him with a strange feeling brewing inside. Not a good one. A fearful, doubt filled one.
He knew that look and smiled at you, shaking his head. "You just have to believe silly one," he said. "You just have to think happy thoughts and trust me. The rest is easy."
But you still did not budge.
He sighed and let your hand go. "Alright. But don't act all suprused."
And without warning, he rocketed from the ground.
You watched in pure awe as he flew through the street, looping around lamp poles and wire towers. He giggled as he went, and brought the biting wind with him.
It was exhilarating.
He dropped to the ground before you. He kneeled down and held your hands in his.
"You," he said, still panting from his laughter, "are a lost one. I just know it. I can feel it. You'd be perfect with us. We'd have fun every day and every night. There's still time to escape," he whispered. "There's still time. We can be free."
He stood up, keeping your hands in his. He walked backwards, and you left the safety of the car, walking with him, mesmerized.
"Second star to the right and straight on till morning. You cant miss it. We'll outrun the dawn, if we go fast enough."
He squeezed your hands and the biting cold wind whipped at your side. You ignored it completely.
"Come away with me," he said. "Come away, and they'll never make us go anywhere or do anything ever again."
His feet began to lift from the ground. His eyes glimmered like stars. His hand was warm in your's.
"Come with me, angel. Come back to the sky."
You looked up at him, and it felt like staring into space itself. Like staring into the sun.
"I know you can still fly," he promised. "I'll let you in on a secret. You don't need wings."
And without any effort at all, your feet lifted.
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sugak00kie03 · 3 months
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I’m trying to find this Peter Pan imagine where he comes to storeybrooke and he crosses the town line and doesn’t understand why everyone is afraid of him and I think he was just really friendly but I’m not sure, though I saved it but now I can’t find it. Literally begging for it pls
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Welcome!
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Welcome to @classic-disney-imagines!!! Feel free to request something!
I’m excited to be taking my first shot at this! Just some information you ought to know before sending anything in!
~~~
Movies:
Aladdin (Live and animated)
• Aladdin
• Jafar
Beauty and the beast: (Live and animated)
• Beast/Adam
• Gaston
The Lion King: (Live and animated)
• Mufasa
• Simba
• Scar
Cinderella: (Live and animated)
• Prince Charming
Peter Pan: (Once Upon A Time & Animated)
• Peter Pan
• Felix
• Hook
Once Upon A Time:
• Peter Pan
• Felix
• Hook
• Charming
• Mr. Gold
• Baelfire
• Robin Hood
• Emma Swan
• Regina Mills
• Snow White
• Tinker Bell
• Ruby
• Dorothy
• Elsa
• Anna
Maleficent: (Live action only)
• Maleficent
• Diaval
• Aurora/Brier Rose
• Phillip
~~~
I write:
• Fluff
• Angst
• Happy endings
• Female character x female reader
• Female character x male reader
• Character x reader shipping
~~~
I don’t write:
• Smut
• Incest
• Pregnancy scenes
• Toxic relationships
• Past/present abuse
• Animal abuse/cruelty
• Male character x male reader
• Character x character shipping
~~~
Additional information:
I’m going to be updating regularly, so please send in a request for any of these movies/characters!
If there’s a character/movie you like that’s not listed, feel free to request it and I will add it onto my list!
Please don’t get offended or feel let down if I decline a request. If I decline it, it’s not to just be rude, it’s just because it’s probably something I’m not comfortable with writing. If I do decline, feel free to send in a different idea!
That’s all for now!
Happy reading!
~~~
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Imagine #26: Kidnapping
Honestly, this was a quick blurb I wrote the other night. It’s the meeting of two of my own characters and Hook, if Hook and Smee were young. Smee is a character I created whom is a psychopathic serial killer but that was an ~AU~. Anyway, I got the inspiration to write them meeting and I wanted to share, if anyone still reads please enjoy~
Charlie was thrashing about as the men dragged her across deck. She couldn’t believe that she had gotten caught, and worse, she was caught by the damn pirates. Pan was going to kill her as soon as he got wind of this. Could be worse, I could be stuck hunting with Felix she thought to herself as the pirates dragged her down a set of steps.
The further along they walked, the worse the smell got. Charlie scrunched up her nose as she smelt the stench radiating off of the men on the ship. Lord, they need a bath, but she said nothing because she focused on keeping track of each turn they made. Unfortunately, she got lost about five turns in, but still she tried to at least get a sense of her surroundings.
For what felt like eternity, they finally arrived at a fine, solid oak door. With a quick knock, the door swung open and she was shoved inside. As she picked herself up, she heard the door shut and clicked. A curse slipped out of her mouth as she realized she was just locked in. “Well that’s no way for a lady to speak” a deep voice spoke out. She flipped around as she realized there were two other men in the room with her, although the one never spoke. 
“It’s a damn good thing I’m not a lady, then,” she growled as she quickly backed away from the strange men. She observed the two, one blonde and the other hair the color of midnight, but both with the piercing blue eyes of those who are always at sea. They must be in charge, she thought, but so young to be. The two looked to be the same age as her oldest at camp, and they barely made it to 21 before coming to Neverland. 
The man with black hair smirked before standing up, his eyes filled with the same look the boys got when they found someone amusing. They’re looking at me like I’m a damn child, she rolled her eyes, I’m in a 21 year old body, it can’t look that young, but she knew that she still looked 17 at best. “You definitely don’t look like a lady, so my apologies, but allow me to introduce myself-“ as he stepped towards her she saw the glint of light hit where his hand should be.
“Captain Hook” she growled, cutting him off. He stopped mid step and his eyes turned dark, but she was quickly startled by the loud laugh that came from the corner of the room. She looked over and saw the blonde laughing, bent over as if what she had said was the funniest thing in world. Although I suppose it may have been in his, she thought as she quirked an eyebrow. 
The laughing man let out one last chuckle before righting himself, “I don’t suppose you children all call him that, do you?” She only nodded before he laughed again, “Well, James, it seems my nickname has stuck.” He clapped the black hair man, James, on the shoulder. 
“I don’t suppose you won’t mind providing your name?” Charlie asked as she eyed the two men, boys? She shook her head, doesn’t matter considering they kidnapped her. 
The blonde smirked, and Charlie shuddered at the blood lust in his eyes, the look rivaled the Devil himself. She felt sick suddenly, as if she were in the presence of pure evil. The only time I sense this is when I’m around Pan, and her body reacted as such. She shut out any emotion in her eyes, not allowing anything on her face to reveal her thoughts, and she adjusted her stance ever so slightly to ensure she had the upper hand if it came to. 
She didn’t realize just how observant the demon was, because as soon as he allowed the blood lust to flash in his eyes, he quickly smothered it all the same. The intense aura subsided, only felt by Charlie because of how observant she is, and from living with the Devil himself. The blonde once again looked like a friendly young man, innocent enough to hold the debate between still being a boy and being a man. He gave her the neighbor-boy next door smile and said, “The names Oliver Smith.” 
James shoved his arm off, “Bloody hell, if you’re going to get the delinquents to call me by a ridiculous name you made up based off my injury then you’re going to tell them yours, Smee.” 
“Smee?” She repeated, “Why Smee?” 
James shrugged, “All I could come up with while being hammered.” 
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goldenxshine · 6 months
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Peter Pan being clingy would include...
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• the thing is, it's unusual for Pan to be clingy
• but it's not something you'd complain about
• even he sometimes needs more attention
• acts like this when he's worried or stressed
• gets anxious or upset if he can't be with you all the time
• calls you love, darling, sweetheart more than usual
• probably cracks a joke or two
• follows you around the camp and island like a lost puppy
• he just makes sure to be near you
• if he needs to get some work done he will give you something to be also busy with and keeps an eye on you
• you can feel his green eyes on you all the time
• during the night he lets you hold him
• tells you about about one of the many things that he has done or seen on the island
• loves when you caress his hair and his strong arms
• the little smirk never leaves his face
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chloe-skywalker · 2 months
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One & Only - Peter Pan
Peter Pan x Fem!reader
Warnings: none
Word count: 1,781
Requested:Can I request a Peter Pan OUAT imagine? Reader has been the only girl on the island for a while and is very cold to her the moment she sees her. She goes ballistic in the middle of the camp when she sees Pan kiss Wendy on the beach or something. A few of the lost boys try to calm Y/N down before she hucks a drinking glass at a tree and yells, "THAT STUPID FUCKING BLONDE BITCH!!" And runs to her treehouse. Felix knows about her feelings for Pan but swore he'd never tell anyone. When Pan gets back he can hear Y/N crying in her treehouse and goes "Which one of you did it?!" Not realizing that it was him because he didn't know she was anywhere on the beach. - @anon
Authors Note: Thank you for requesting! I did change some things minorly but not much. I enjoyed writing for Once Upon A Time again. Especially for Peter Pan.
Masterlist
Once Upon A Time Masterlist
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“Y/n” Felix greeted as the y/h/c-ed girl walked over to him.
“Felix.” Y/n smiled, greeting back the tall boy. Y/n nodds towards the new boys. “How are they doing?”
“Not bad for newbies.” Felix shrugged his shoulders. Y/n and Felix were just 2 of the ones that helped train, but not always.
“Maybe we’ll have to toughen the training.” Y/n scanned the group of new lost boys.
“I believe you're right.” Felix agreed as he noticed a few mistakes the boys were making that he was sure she did as well.
“Have you seen Pan?” Y/n asked, looking around and not seeing the boy in green anywhere.
Felix shakes his head with squinted eyes. “Not since earlier. Have you tried his thinking tree?”
Y/n shook her head ‘no’ and let out a frustrated sigh. “Yeah, he wasn’t there.”
Felix nudged her before saying. “He’ll come around sooner or later.”
Felix knew Y/n has had feelings for Peter for a long time. But he’d never say anything unless they were alone, because even though some of the lost boys were pretty sure Y/n and Peter had mutual feelings for eachother it wasn’t their place to say.
“Yeah.” Y/n nodded looking around making sure there wasn’t anything for her to do before telling Felix. “I’m gonna go down to the beach, I’ll be back later.”
Felix nodded watching her as she left knowing that the beach was her thinking place. Before turning his attention back on the boys.
So Y/n went walking her normal route down to the beach. When she got to where the trees end right before the beach Y/n stopped. She saw Peter standing there on the beach, but he wasn’t alone. He was with Wendy Darling. A girl that the shadow brought but she wasn’t lost, she didn’t belong on Neverland.
But what really shocked her was what happened next. Peter pulled Wendy into a heated kiss. Y/n instantly reached up to cover her mouth, out of shock and to keep her gasp from being heard. Y/n had to turn around and she ran back to camp not wanting to watch it any longer. As she ran back to camp Y/n could feel tears welling up but she wouldn’t let them fall. Not yet.
Once she got back to camp she picked up and threw a drinking glass that was nearby against a tree. Watching it shatter. The lost boys noticed her distress, so two of the older ones, Felix and Devin went over to Y/n. Being two that are very close to the lost girl.
“Hey. hey Y/n.” Felix reached out to her laying a hand on her shoulder guiding her to the edge of camp so no one could eavesdrop. “Hey, what happened?” he asked with worried eyes.
Y/n shook her head not wanting to look at them and possibly break in front of them.
“Y/n please. Tell us what happened?” Devan pleaded, not liking to see her this way. Like she was gonna either murder someone or break down crying.
Y/n could barely even glance at them. So Felix tried again.
“Y/n/n.” Felix called her name again and this time get’s her attention. Once Y/n finally looked at him he asked her. “What happened?”
“I went down to the beach, and I saw him kissing that little Darling bitch!” Y/n told them with a low angry voice. But Felix and Devan could tell she was more hurt than angry.
“He what?” Devan asked with raised brows in shock, looking towards Felix. The two thought Peter liked Y/n.
“He was kissing that bitch.” she repeated herself, this time though her words sink into her own mind and Y/n can’t help it when a tear falls.
The boys look at her with sympathy.
“Why don’t you go get some rest.” Felix wrapped his arm around her shoulders pulling her into his side. Trying his best to provide her with comfort. 
“Yeah” Y/n sighed defeated, before heading back to her own treehouse. The boys watched her walk off sadly.
Hours later Peter showed back up at camp after leaving Wendy back in her cage. He looked around and saw someone was missing.
“Where’s Y/n?” Pan asked after looking around the camp and he did not see her.
“Her treehouse.” Devan spoke up after silence was all Pan was met with. Obviously no one wanted to be the one to tell him about the day's events and only two knew the reason.
Once Peter nodded and left off to go see his lost girl Felix scoffed, pissed off.
“I wouldn’t have even gave him that much.” Felix grumbled pissed off at how his leader hurt his friend.
As Peter Pan got closer to Y/n’s very own treehouse he heard her crying. It made him stop in his tracks, and the longer he heard her cry the more enraged Pan got. So he headed back to the campsite.
“Which one of you did it?” Pan growled with anger in his eyes looking at every single lost boy.
“Did what?” Devan questioned why they were suddenly getting a look that could kill.
“Who made Y/n cry?” Peter elaborated with narrowed eyes.
“It wasn’t any of us.” Felix scoffed with his back facing Peter.
“What?” He raised a brow at his second in command.
Felix turned to face Pan with his own set of narrowed eyes. “It wasn’t any of us that made our lost girl cry. You did.”
Pan furrowed his brow in confusion. “I did?”
Felix wanted to speak his mind but also knew now wasn’t the time. “Have you forgotten that Neverland only has one lost girl?”
“Of course I haven’t.” Peter gave him an observed look. How could he possibly forget that.
“Well you could’ve fooled all of us, with how much time you’ve been spending with Wendy. You know the girl that doesn’t belong here!” Felix stood up to give Pan a piece of his mind, not all but a piece. He was pissed that Peter had been neglecting their lost girl in favor of a girl that shouldn’t even be on Neverland.
The two stood there for a few minutes as Felix watched Peter realize his mistakes and left to go console his lost girl. Felix sat down again and muttered under his breath. “I’d grovel if I were you.” Felix’s anger wasn’t going away anytime soon. Even if Y/n forgave him.
Once Peter reached the treehouse he could hear that Y/n’s sobs had died down so he approached the door.
“Y/n.” Peter called out after knocking. “Can I come in?”
There was a silent sound of a mumbled ‘yeah’ once he heard that Peter entered.
“Why are you asking? Isn’t it your island, you can do what you want?” Y/n said with a roll of her eyes from where she sat on her bed.
“It’s called respecting your privacy.” Pan says as he leaned to the side to see her face and he noted the tear stains on her cheeks.
“That's a new one.” She scoffed. Normally he just entered when he pleased.
“Please.” Peter said it in hopes of getting her to look at him.
“What do you want?” Y/n said, finally turning her head to look at Peter.
“I want to apologize.” Peter could now see clearly the tear tracks on her cheeks and her eyes were also red from crying.
“For what?” Her voice almost sounded like a whimper to Peter’s ears.
“For ignoring you and being to busy to give you my attention as of late. I’m sorry for neglecting you.” Peter aplogized as he moved into the space further and sat next to her.
“That's nice and apology expected.” Y/n gave him a small smile and a nod.
Peter smiled, letting out a relieved breath. “Good. I hated hearing you cry.”
“That’s not why I was crying.” Y/n looked back down at her hands in her lap, when she noticed he was looking at her confused Y/n let out an awkward laugh. “Don’t get me wrong it was part of it but not what set it off.”
Now he was concerned again. What hurt his lost girl? “What made you cry? What set it off?”
“Do you still love me?” Y/n asked meekly, honestly scared of his answer. Yes they told each other they love each other but they never put a label on what they were.
“Of course! You’re mine. You're my lost girl, my Y/n. Why would you ask that?” How could she think he didn’t love her anymore? How could she think he’d stop?
“If you feel that way then why were you kissing Wendy?” Y/n looked at him with wide teary eyes.
“What?” Pan furrowed his brow, caught off guard.
“I saw you. On the beach.” She mumbled looking back down to her lap once again. Y/n felt embarrassed at catching him and telling him about it.
“Love, it’s not like that. It’s the farest thing from love between me and Wendy.” Peter moved to kneel in front of her grabbing her hands in his tilting her chin up to look at him after a moment.
“Pirates were not far off the coast, my guess trying to spy. They're always looking for a weakness. I can’t have them try to hurt you.” Peter moved his hand from under her chin to cup her cheek before he continued to explain. “I wanted them to think I care about Wendy. If they try something I’d rather they think she’s the one with a place in my heart not you. Wendy’s expendable. You're not.”
“You’ve just been spending all your time with her since she got here.” She didn’t want to seem needy but she went from having Peter all to herself all the time to not even seeing him every couple days, sometimes not even talking.
“I need her and her brothers to do my bidding. That's all.” Peter tell’s her, brushing her hair back and scooted closer. “I’m sorry that I’ve neglected you. I promise that’ll change from this moment forward.”
“I hope so.” Y/n gave him a sad but hopefully smile.
“Hey, Peter Pan never fails.” Peter stated as he got up off the floor and sits back on her bed and lifted Y/n up and onto his lap.
“I hope it continues to stay that way.” Y/n smiled nuzzling into him extremely tired from crying and the emotional stress.
Taglist: @padawancat97
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blue-sadie · 7 months
Text
Princess Treatment
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Imagine:
Being Regina's bio daughter and getting sperated from the group on neverland and Peter and Felix 'happen' to find you to make a deal with you.
"Its very simple darling you become ours and we'll release henry simple as that but know this you won't be getting of neverland either way"
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heliads · 2 years
Note
Okay
So
I think this is how you request? I’ve never requested anything before >w<
But before I do that I wanted to applaud you for all your hard work!!! You are such an amazing writer, one of favorites atm, and you definitely deserve some praise!!!
For my request, I’m not sure if you are still into Ouat or Peter Pan from the show, but I’m like, obsessed. I’ve had this soulmate idea in which Peter pan’s plan to steal the heart of the truest believer failed, so now he has to take the heart of his soulmate. This is harder for him because he doesn’t know how to love. He hates it out of fear of what it could do to him, yknow yknow? So he goes along with the plan and he captures her. He expects her to fight back but she doesn’t. In fact, she’s quite happy to give up her heart for him if it meant that she wasn’t useless. (She had no family other than her sister, who had recently died. She’s lived her whole life feeling unvaluable). Over the past few days, they get to know each other, and he starts to feel bad that he was her soulmate. Like, why does such a sweet girl have to be his??? How could she just be fine with giving up her heart, HOW COULD SHE BE FINE WITH HIM NOT LOVING HER WHEN SHE CLEARLY DESERVES ALL THE LOVE HE COULD GIVE HER?!?!
She just tells him that a soulmates job is to make their lover happy, and if this made him happy then she would gladly give him her heart. It’s not like he’s doing it just for himself anyway, he is doing it for all the lost children in the world.
After he finishes the setup necessary for the ritual, he takes his soulmate to Skull rock. By the point, Peter isn’t even sure if he wants to steal her heart anymore. Could he have fallen in love this quickly???
But she encourages him to do it, despite being frightened of it herself. Before he takes her heart, Peter asks her if she had any last words. She quietly mumbles that she loves him more to an anything. She then asks him if it will hurt, to which he responds by saying that he’ll numb the pain as much as possible.
Going against his better judgement, Peter kisses her softly as he takes her heart. She immediately passes out. Peter pan has big boy realization and can’t bring himself to kill her, so instead he puts her heart back in and kisses her in the hopes she will come back to him.
Insert fluffy ending here with more kisses!!
I am so so so sorry in advance if this is super specific or doesn’t make any sense. I’ve just had this idea stuck in my head for months and it won’t get out. Of course, you can add or change the idea to make it simpler for you to write!! Take as much time as you need and have an amazing day!!!
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oh this idea >>
masterlist
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Peter Pan is really out of luck. No, really. He says this about once a decade, when his latest plan for glory goes a little topsy turvy, but it’s real this time. Peter has finally caught his last break, found himself in a trap that he just can’t slip. Peter can name a fair number of people who’d be just delighted to hear that the King of Neverland has finally lost his way, but Peter himself isn’t one of them. 
That probably has to do with a little something about how he’s going to die. Peter always knew his life came with strings attached, namely the giant hourglass ticking down his last hours until he finally croaked, but for some reason he always thought that he’d be able to find his way out of it. Peter is a mastermind at exploiting loopholes, but despite all of his centuries of figuring things out in the nick of time, he may have just now met his match. 
Peter thought he had it settled when it came to the heart of the truest believer. Kidnap a kid and carve out his vital organ, that’s all it took. It should have been an easy task, too, certainly within Peter’s grasp. It’s a shame the truest believer also came with a team of die-hard do-gooders ready to tear the world apart to save their son, but who could predict something like that?
Henry Mills was Peter’s last chance, though. Or, to be specific, the last chance that Peter even remotely wanted to consider. He has explored all other opportunities, never given up hope on finding another way, but at last, he’s going to have to admit it. Peter is going to have to do the one thing he swore to always avoid. 
Peter can feel the eyes of the other Lost Boys on him now, silently waiting for him to make the inevitable call. They’ll support him in whatever choice he makes to save himself, of course; Neverland disappears when Peter dies. He’s sworn that he’ll ship them all off to safer shores should that day arrive, but no one wants that, either. The Lost Boys have always had a chance to leave, they just never took it because this life on Neverland was always preferable to anything else. 
He knows what he has to say, though. Peter has known it for a while. The one last gamble he could possibly deal, the last chance he will ever have to not die before a month is out—
His soulmate. 
This is the one option Peter was really hoping to avoid. Something about the whole soulmate affair has really bugged him all this time. Forget the odds of ever finding your soulmate when he’s immortal living on an island where no one could track him down if they dared, Peter isn’t the type of person who makes sense in the whole soulmates agenda. Peter doesn’t like weaknesses, and having someone out there who’s supposed to mean the world to you, love above all else, makes his skin crawl.
Technically, he supposes his soulmate isn’t a weakness at a time like this. In fact, his soulmate is going to be the only thing capable of making Peter strong again. See, if he wants to go on living, he can sacrifice someone else’s heart to the magic of Neverland:  that of his soulmate.
Anyone else would call it cruel. Peter is not anyone else, which is why he’s considering this. To be honest, he really hadn’t wanted to go anywhere near his soulmate, but he’s not so averse to the whole concept that he’d go into a grave rather than risk it. Peter clings to life like no one you’ve ever seen before, and he’s going to keep on doing it, soulmates be damned.
Peter can’t quite put a finger on why he has such a strong dislike of the soulmates thing. Maybe it’s because understanding the soulmate predicament would make him open to such weaknesses as love brings. Love is for fools who have nothing else to give, kids and blind men who would plunge a knife into their own chests if it meant meeting somebody who was supposedly meant for them. The only thing that Peter has ever needed in this world is his immortal youth, and if a soulmate were ever to get in the way of that, he’d take them out himself.
That’s the plan, at last. Peter doesn’t have to worry about the time it could take to track down his soulmate. He’s had his shadow keep vague tabs on them for no particular reason. He’ll tell himself it’s so he can head the other way if they ever draw near, but it’s not like that’s actually a good excuse. No one comes near Neverland unless they can avoid it or they’re one of his kind. Clearly, Peter’s soulmate would never be the type to fit in here, because soulmates are a sham. Peter refuses to believe anything else.
Still, he has to meet them, has to look them in the eyes as he carves the heart from their chest. It’ll be quick and clean, that’s all Peter needs. After that, he can live forever with another weight lifted from his shoulders. Two weaknesses removed from Peter’s world:  death and love. What more could he possibly want?
Peter actually goes to the trouble of locating his soulmate himself. This job needs to be clean, he can’t afford to have any more storybook heroes on his tail. Look how well that turned out with Henry. This is Peter’s last shot, after all; it happens without error or it doesn’t happen at all.
To his surprise, it’s relatively easy to find his soulmate. She’s walking alone at night when he finally comes to her world, trading a dimly lit house for a chilly twilight. The walls are silent, still as a grave, and the girl doesn’t look back once as she leaves. Strange.
Peter waits until she’s out of the line of sight of the house just in case, then starts following her. Once they’ve turned off of the street, Peter quickly closes the distance between them. The girl turns to stare at him, and her eyes widen. She must be feeling it too, then, the rushing feeling in her chest. Peter’s hit by it now too. He didn’t ever wonder what it would be like to meet one’s soulmate, so the reaction of being in such close quarters to the one person designed for him takes him by surprise.
Peter bites back an unwelcome smile and a rush of butterflies to his stomach. “I’m going to need you to come with me,” he says. He’s got a knife in his hand just so she gets the point. Like he said, no slip ups. Not this time.
He’s expecting a fight. That’s how Peter would react if someone approached him at night with a weapon, after all, yet for some reason his soulmate just nods. “Alright,” she replies.
Peter blinks in surprise. “Alright? I’m kidnapping you.”
“Alright,” she repeats, this time with a soft smile, “are you, though? You look really confused about it.”
“Yeah,” Peter says without thinking, “you seem like you’re not taking this seriously. Aren’t you going to try to run or something?”
The girl lifts a shoulder. “Where would I go? Besides,” she adds with a small laugh, “you’re my soulmate. That seems like a fascinating kidnapping to me.”
Peter thinks he’s gone out of his mind. “I’m going to kill you. This is not fascinating. I need your heart so I can live forever.”
His soulmate tilts her head to the side as if considering something, and then nods. “Okay.”
He must be crazy. “Why is that okay?”
The girl spreads her hands. “I have nothing. Nobody left, no family. It would be something to let someone live forever, wouldn’t it? Once you see enough death, you start to wish somebody could do it. If all it took was my heart, I think that’s a fair price. Where are we going, soulmate?”
Peter almost opens his mouth to stop her before he remembers that this is what he wants, someone willing to give up their heart so that he could live. This is actually the best possible scenario, but then why does his chest twinge with something almost like guilt when he nods and gestures towards the sky? And, upon seeing his soulmate’s face light up as she realizes that they’re to fly to Neverland, why does Peter feel like a monster for giving this girl a snapshot of all that she could have had if he hadn’t been afraid of her and taken her to his island for any reason other than sacrificing her heart?
It doesn’t matter what this girl thinks. What matters is Peter staying alive. He can focus on that, not the way the eyes of his soulmate shine with all the stars as they fly through the night air, how Peter feels more powerful than he’s ever felt before because they’re so close to each other. Y/N— he doesn’t remember asking her name, but he must have at some point because it’s now folded carefully within the depths of his memory— makes him feel strange. Better. More alive. 
It’s distracting, and Peter can’t take another distraction right now. He all but abandons her to the wilderness of the island when they touch down on Neverland, muttering something about needing to get something before disappearing again. 
To her credit, Y/N seems surprisingly good at navigating this strange new world. She finds her way to the Lost Boys’ camp within a few minutes, and by the time Peter plucks up the courage to head there as well, she’s already locked in conversation with a few of the boys. Even Felix is nodding along. Some unwelcome voice in the back of Peter’s head tells him that she fits into Neverland so well for a reason, but he refuses to listen. 
After all, Y/N is only here temporarily. She knows it, too, which just makes Peter’s unsettled surprise grow more intense. She doesn’t try to run or flee her fate in any way. Instead, she asks Peter questions about the magic of Neverland, what it would be like when her heart has been traded in and everything is as it should be. After some initial hesitation, Peter talks. He talks more than he thinks he has to anyone else, and comes away from every conversation feeling a surprising lightness in his chest. 
A couple of days pass after his soulmate arrives on Neverland, and Peter begins to realize that if he wants to get through this at all, he’s going to have to plan the ritual sooner rather than later. Already, something almost like guilt is pricking at the edges of his consciousness, making Peter wonder if this is really something he could do. To tear the still-beating heart out of Y/N’s chest, even with her explicit permission, seems somehow so wrong that even Peter with all his centuries of depravity feels like he’s missing something. 
It will come, though. This will pass. Peter has the Lost Boys depending on him. Peter himself knows nothing about death, that grand adventure that he has yet to experience, and he plans on keeping his demise to the distant future, if it ever does happen at all. He has to kill Y/N, even if it feels like he’s killing himself in turn. 
The hour arrives at last, Peter makes sure of it. He takes Y/N’s hand and they fly to Skull Rock, out of the judging eyes of the other Lost Boys. Those that were so keen on him finding any way to live now seem less sure of Peter Pan’s divine right to never fail. Peter isn’t sure of it either. 
The only one who’s sure of anything is Y/N. She watches him with those same bright eyes as Peter reminds himself of words to spells. He had wondered if her quiet strength would desert her when the moment of her actual death arrived, but she remains just as brave as ever. That marks her as better than Peter, he supposes. 
At last, when he can push it off no longer, Peter turns to her again.
“It’s time,” he murmurs. 
Y/N nods once. “It’s okay.”
How like her, to absolve him of this last guilt. He doesn’t deserve this. Maybe this is why Peter has avoided the topic of soulmates all this time— he wasn’t afraid of a weakness but the knowledge that he would never be good enough for anyone. Especially not a soulmate like Y/N. 
Peter squares his shoulders, reaches for her. “Is there anything you want to say? You know, before–”
He stops himself before the treacherous words come out. Before he kills her. Before he rips her heart out of her chest, ending the life of the one good person in his life, the one person he had been sent to love and instead ended up murdering just so he could have more years of empty life.
Y/N flinches slightly, and Peter realizes that she actually is terrified despite her calm front. “I don’t know,” she whispers, “Maybe that I love you. More than anything. If this is what it’s like to have a soulmate, to feel like this, I’m glad I got it.”
Peter must have reacted strongly, because she holds up a hand to stop Peter’s response. “I know it’s bad timing, but I wanted to say it once. You have to do this, Peter. Not just for you but all of the Lost Boys, everyone you haven’t saved yet. Promise me, won’t you? Promise me you’ll find all the kids who need you. You’ll have all the time in the world to do it. Bring them home.”
“I promise,” Peter says hollowly.
Y/N jerks her head up and down, a trembling acceptance. “Alright, then.” She eyes him cautiously. “Do you think it’ll hurt?”
Yes, he wants to say. “I’ll try to make any pain as little as possible.” He owes her that much.
Y/N flashes him a quick smile that neither of them believe. “Do it.”
Peter stares at her, and before he can stop himself, he leans forward slightly and kisses her. It is a mistake in anyone’s book, but Peter can’t help it. It goes against his better judgment, his limited common sense, but it also gives him a rush from head to toe that he could not explain if he tried.
Y/N’s eyes are shut, which makes it easier. Peter plucks her heart from her chest as easily as if it were a single emerald leaf from a tree. Instantly, Y/N crumples to the ground. Peter looks at her body in a tangle of limbs on the floor of the cave, and he knows. He can’t do this. It is the only thing that will save his life, and it is too great a price to pay.
Within a second, Peter puts Y/N’s heart back in her chest. She still doesn’t stir, and Peter finds himself swept away on a tide of fear, utterly wracked with the horror that maybe he was too late, that his realization took just too long to come about. He kisses her again in the hopes that it might do something, anything. He’s heard that soulmates are supposed to have a special kind of magic in them; if the stories were true, if there is anything left to Y/N and Peter, let it go all to her. Let her wake up. Please.
Y/N lets out a shuddering gasp and sits up. Peter’s breath leaves him in a rush and he clutches her to him, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as if she’s giving him strength instead of the other way around.
“You’re alright,” he says weakly. It’s as much to reassure him as her.
Y/N shakes her head against his chest. “Didn’t it work? It should have worked, Peter.”
Peter pulls away briefly, unwillingly, so he can look at her again. He doesn’t know how much time he has left now, but he’d gladly spend the rest of them just watching the sun set in her eyes. “I couldn’t do it. I can’t kill you, Y/N.”
Y/N’s eyes widen. “No. No, you had to do this. You’re going to die.”
He lifts a shoulder. “I’ve lived a long time. You deserve your shot at life, just like me.”
Y/N opens her mouth to argue against this, and then she falls silent. Peter furrows his brow, confused at her sudden hesitation, and then he realizes that the entire room seems to be glowing. He turns around to see what Y/N’s looking at, and then he sees it and loses the ability to function.
The hourglass is glowing. As Peter watches, all of the grains that had been steadily collecting at the bottom fly up to the top, and this time, they stay there. Even after Peter waits, they refuse to fall. For some reason, he is no longer capable of dying, at least not through the steady progress of time that had once marked his centuries.
It must be the soulmate thing. It’s the only thing Peter can think of, that something must have come of the bond between him and Y/N. It’s funny, isn’t it, that Peter has spent all of this time running from the mere mention of a soulmate and now she’s the one to save his life?
He faces her once more, and this time, he lets himself smile back at her. “I think we’re alright.”
She laughs. Peter thinks he could listen to the sound on repeat for days at a time. “I think we’re more than alright, actually.”
For once, Peter does not have any cause to fear. He has his life, but more than that, he has his love. Love is not something to shun or hide, it makes him strong. He holds out a hand for Y/N and helps her up. They have a new life to lead, hundreds of thousands of lifetimes until time itself ceases to function. Peter thinks it’s just about enough time to get started.
requested by @hinayugi, i hope you enjoy!
ouat tag list: @lovesanimals0000, @amortensie, @w1shes43, @lost-ender
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neverland93 · 3 months
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Peter Pan Imagine/1234
“We’re gonna try this game really quick.” Peter runs up to you while you’re drinking your hot tea and reading your book
“Pan I’d rather not-“ you say before he interrupts you
“Okay ready I’m gonna go 1,2,3,4 do it with me.” He says waiting for you
You roll your eyes and go along with it
“1,2,3,4” you say counting along with him
“Great now this time close your eyes.” Peter says
You roll your eyes even harder and do what you’re told
“1,2,3,4” you say with your eyes closed
“Now open them and count again.” Peter says
“1,2,3,4” you say looking at him
“Close them.” Peter says
You do so “1,2,3,4” still counting
“Open again.” He says taking a step closer to you
“1,2,3,4” you say and stop
Peter was just smiling
“What Peter?” You ask
“You listen so well, you follow instructions so good don’t you? “ he winks and walks away
Leaving you confused,angry, and a little flustered.
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s1ater · 9 months
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cherry pie.
pairings. louis partridge x fem!reader
summary. reader never would have thought about getting high until she seems to have lost all her morals in one night with a boy she had never met before.
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warnings. swearing, underage drinking and smoking
ricky rocks. YALL PLEASEEE bare with me. you can probably tell this is an older story because of the format, but just disregard the first half, i know it’s the lower end of my writing. it kinda gets better 😬 (edit: this story is so mid, i’m just trying to clear my drafts)
the room danced with colors, so many colors and shades you seemed to have never seen before. unfamiliar with their cause and purpose, unsure why you couldn’t touch them; it frightened you with the way they moved around, the way they twirled around your head like little ballerinas.
you swallowed, dropping your head back against the grungy brown couch sat in the corner of one of the back rooms of connor’s house, a boy you found yourself calling on day after day for the past two months for fun, and by fun you meant sex.
but tonight, you hadn’t seen the boy for what you could count as hours. there were other things on his mind rather than a high off their ass you. other pretty girls with less clothing on their bodies and longer hair that was paid more attention to than your own.
you couldn’t care less at that point in time as you felt so deep in a haze, nothing could pull your attention. nothing, until the seat next to you sunk in from the pressure of bodyweight and another high body, seeing the same things you were seeing, feeling the same things you were feeling. 
he just had it more under control. 
“you going to stare at the ceiling all day, love?”
you rolled your head to meet the eyes of a crazed blonde with matching brown eyes. delight swirled in his irises while he looked at you with also dazed eyes, almost ceased shut from swelling of the high. you looked amazed right back at him despite sober you would have been disturbed, never seeing a person so out of their mind.
“who are you?” you stared at him, shocked. 
“your new boyfriend,” he wiggled his eyebrows, jumping and readjusting himself up against you, his arm now slinging up and over you shoulders. a new kind of energy swelling through his chest, “i say we go on a date.”
he stared in front of him focused full hearty, as if visualizing something at that moment. you squinted, looking to where he was looking as if trying to see what he was seeing, but not enough weed could put you on his level. 
“i say, we leave right now, get some pie, maybe some coke. whatever you like sweetheart, i’ll give it to ya.” “I think your sweetheart wants some space, jake,” your eyes looked from the boy who sat next to you, jake, to the boy who now stood before the two of you, an unimpressed look on his face. his arm reached out to jake, practically yanking him from your side. “alright pal, let’s go for a walk.”
you watched jake stumble into him, “but louis, she’s pretty.”
louis glanced back over his shoulder as he begun to pull jake away from the couch and toward the door, now really coming to your attention. his eyes raked you up and down before smirking a little bit, nodding to himself, “sure man, she is.” 
he begun to walk away with jake wrapped around his shoulder before you got up fast almost tripping over your feet, not wanting them to go, “wait, i want a pie.” 
he looked back at you and your disoriented self. your shoulders were slung low, making you smaller than you actually were. your hair was all staticky, hanging above your head like a crown, and your eyes; dilated and filled with innocence.
he smirked, looking you up one more time before nodding you over, cuing you to follow after him, his arm still holding jake to his toes.
the boy’s car was blue. louis’ car was blue. it was one of those old, nice, restored cars that must have been worth thousands. the interior had light brown leather seating that made noise every time you shifted and readjusted yourself due to the old springs lying beneath. it made you giggle as you sat next to him in the front seat, jake lying in the back due to him not being just high, but rather cross faded. louis had apparently found him completely plastered out of his mind once he had first arrived at the party, leading him to hand jake a blunt to finalize his out-this-world experience. it wasn’t smart, but it kept louis entertained to say the least.
louis had glanced at you multiple times as he drove through the silent streets. he seemed eager or maybe even a little irritated as he watched you bounce around, lacking the ability to sit still as your eyes darted everywhere, from street lights to stop signs to anything that’d fully occupied your vision.
“have you ever been high before?” he asked, stopped at a stop light with red lights shading upon both your faces.
“nope,” your eyes wandered across the ceiling of his car. you ran your fingers along the soft carpeted interior—strange, but very stimulating and soft—making you feel all fuzzy inside of satisfaction. “louis, i love you car.”
he chuckles lowly, directing his eyes back to the road, “a lot of people do,” his lips were turned upwards into a slight smirk. it made the fuzzy feeling in your stomach turn warm as there was something very satisfying about just the way he looked. “we’re here.”
your eyes flick to the front of you where your visions bursts with neon lights beaming from the large “diner” sign pinned against the small vintage looking building. you're quick to slip out of the car to the euphoric sight.
“y/n!"
you stopped in your tracks at the sound of your name, glancing over your shoulder where your eyes immediately find a group of boys congregating together with one single boy appointed to attention to you. 
louis. 
"hold on. give me a minute, guys," you watch louis from five feet away, brush his friends off despite the yearning looks of amusement on all of their faces, looking between the both of you. he’s far from bothered or just doesn’t notice; brushing them off before meeting you to where you stood.
it was a wednesday after school. the sweet sound of louis’ voice and sight of his captivating face was the last thing you thought you’d come across. it must’ve been a mutual feeling with the way he looked you up and down, all winded looking. 
"you're a hard person to find."
"you've been looking for me?"
"of course," he has a cigarette in his mouth.
"I almost didn't think you were real."
"of course i'm real, sweetheart," he grins harder at you. "that fucked up, were you?"
you snort. if not being able to remember half of what took place that night counted for being fucked up, you took the trophy.
"well, alright. i'll take that as you had a pretty good night."
"one of the best."
“good,” he grins, “that’s a rare occasion for girls like you.”
“girls like me?” you scoff, arching a brow. his sentence could easily be something taken for offence, but the lighthearted tone to his voice only proved he was looking to mess with you. 
“yes,” he laughs with you. “usually drinking is the only thing you’d catch a teenage girl doing for non-sober purposes.” 
you nod, agreeing, because he wasn’t wrong, “i’ve had a fair amount of experience with alcohol and let me just say, i’ll be steering clear of that for a while.” 
“ah,” he tips forward on his feet in amusement. “i could’ve guessed you’re a wild one with your liquor, y/l/n. make some questionable choices.” 
you feel your face heat up in thought, “i won’t say you’re wrong.” 
louis lets out a small huff of laughter, before pausing all movement. he stares at you for a moment with narrow brows, as if trying his best to read you, “you ever wanna smoke with me, just let me know, alright?” he patted your back before suddenly walking past and away from you. your back was to him now but you could hear pat pat pat of his feet in the grass.
you frown, your eyes finding the cracks of the sidewalk as you think of how brief and unusual that was. you feel a large hole in your chest of unfulfillment. 
“louis, wait,” you shifted around rather quickly as a reality hit you, but you didn’t make any moves to chase after him. he turned as well as if waiting for it. “you uh, you didn’t tell connor i was with you guys, did you?”
yikes.
that’s not what he wanted to hear. 
louis pinched the bud of his cigarette, nodding to himself, thinking contently to his answer before exhaling, a thick cloud of white swirling out into the air before your eyes. you feel dazed, still high from the days before, filled with such naïve joy and lost thoughts of things you couldn’t remember now.
he threw his cigarette on the ground, eyes meeting yours again, only they were hard now and filled with no light heartedness like all times before. and his voice wasn’t soft or full of amusement either but dry as he stared you dead in the eyes, “why, he your boyfriend?”
your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your eyes not meeting his for a while until after you thought about your answer. and it was an easy answer, no, but it was never something you’d ever consider a question. 
“no, no he’s not.”
“you sure about that?”
“not my type,” you smile slightly, examining louis’ pale cheekbones and facial features, the cold of the weather turning his complexion slowly red. your eyes drag to reach his red chapped lips.
him, he was your type. 
“enough of your type for you to fuck him,” he gave you a pointed look as if he had caught you in the act of something, and almost immediately your cheeks burned, like you were caught for something you knew you shouldn’t have been doing. 
you didn't understand why or how he knew. louis was someone you didn't know at all and what you and connor did was something you didn't tell anyone.
"you're surprised?"
"yes."
"why do you care what he knows, let alone fuck him?" he doesn't say anything more on how he knows like you hoped he would. "if he's not your type?"
you bite into your bottom lip, wincing because you didn't know the answer to it, "I don't."
"but you do," he slightly smiles but it's only out of annoyance as his voice catches up to cut you off on your lie. "I think you do, y/n. and you just don't want him to know we kissed."
"your mouth tastes like cherry."
"so does yours."
fuck.
"no, louis..." you wince, immediately regretting stopping him. "that's not what I meant. he doesn't mean anything to me."
he scoffs, "funny."
he doesn't believe you. not even close.
"you know he has label on you."
"a what?" you frown immediately, taking a step forward out of instinct.
“i’m a fool to think you’d ever stop liking him,” he holds his face, running his fingers along the sharp lines of his jawbone as he thinks about his idiotic hope that’d you so fastly fall for him as you did with connor. “foolish to think you’d drop him over one night.”
you’re even more confused now, “it was one night, louis.”
“you act like there isn’t the possibility that i’ve known you even before that night, y/n,” he has a smile that comes on his face but it isn’t something genuine. it’s annoyed. “your jerkoff of a boyfriend isn’t as secretive about you as you think.”
“he’s not my boyfriend.”
he scoffs, “you keep saying that.”
“because it’s true.”
“do you know what he says about you?”
“obviously not, louis,” four steps forward, four steps closer. “you keep speaking of ‘labels’ and whatever, but why don’t you just say it. what does he say about me that is so crazy?”
he didn’t expect the sudden brief and assertiveness you pull with your movement and words. it knocks him into a slight revelation as all he can do is stare at you and breathing, memorizing this side of you. 
“did he say i was a whore?” that was the only possible thing that you could think of at that moment that could be so bad. “he tell you i was a slut?”
it’s silent. you watch him think and the way he unintentionally avoids your hard stare with the thought process.
“ask him yourself.”
**
“has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes.”
you feel your face burn upon the comment. everything in your body felt as if was about to burst upon the simple company of louis. even though it had to of been hours since connor’s house, and the diner, and even dropping jake off at his own home, you still felt out of your mind in the best way possible. all of your sense were still high, but your vision was fuzzy and you felt lag in your movement.
how were you still high?
“you have,” you felt yourself giggle, to which he smiles with a tip of his head, watching you.
“cute,” his fingers rubbed against his mouth in thought before reaching to you. you felt yourself inhale sharply at his sudden movement and hold your breath once they reached their destination; raking through your hair. “how does he do that to you?”
“what?”
“nothing,” he shook his head, still twisting his fingers through soft strands of your hair. you feel yourself relax, watching him and the way he seemed so focused on just you. “you’re just very pretty, y/n.”
you feel your eyes slightly widen, but his face doesn’t shift at all. he’s calm, while you feel your entire body burst once more into heat. you’re itching to move, you can’t just sit still in that burning warmth beneath his stare. you feel yourself move, leaning forward on your knees so your lips meet louis’.
louis smiles against the pressure of your lips against his--he almost forgets to kiss you back because of it. 
almost. 
his hands rack up and down the front of your body, lightly pressing into the hold he had around your rib cage, as if willing to crush you beneath his grasp as long as that meant you wouldn’t leave. this contact isn’t enough even for you. you want to feel him all over and the heavy hands holding your body isn’t enough. 
you’re on his lap now, one of your hands holding the top of his shoulder while the other claps his cheek. louis feels as if his own body is about to burst beneath you... this is all he has wanted, for a while, and now that he’s got it, he feels it’ll destroy him. you’re ignorant to his feelings, but you feel just as feverish with your heart thump-thumping within your chest, as if speaking to his. 
“your mouth tastes like cherry,” your chest is heaving up and down as you pull away, your wide stare boring into his own eyes with something of delirium. 
he’s smiling wide, tipping his head back against his seat to see your face better, “so does yours.” 
now you smile, “i like you louis.”
he almost groans, rolling his head side to side at the sound of those precious words, “you’re killing me,” he pulls the sentence straight out of his mouth like it was sarcastic, but he meant it, “say it again,” he wanted it. 
“i like you,” you repeat, this time his hand is on your cheek. “please kiss me.” 
oh, jeez. 
he stares, breathless, “okay.” 
***
it was a week after your fallout with louis and you couldn’t think about anything other than that. you felt a sudden emptiness and need for something that you barely even had; louis. 
every little micro interaction you had with him ran through your mind like a record, over and over till you felt you were going to throw yourself off a cliff. and it wasn’t just the connor comment--which was something you really, really couldn’t stop thinking about--but the seemingly quick liking he had taken to you. 
it had caught you off guard, but the more you thought about it, the more curious you became as to the whole thing; which was what led you here; connor’s house, on a friday night where he was once again throwing. 
“what have you been saying about me?” you stood in front of him, connor, your vision narrowed as you stared at him, examining him as if his whole existence was strange. 
“what?” his confusion was genuine as this question was rather abrupt and you made no attempt to make introductions. 
“you know louis partridge?” 
connor looks between you and the people he currently stood with, confusion still reeking his features, “yes..?”
“what have you been telling him about me?”
“you want to talk about this somewhere else?” 
“i want a straight answer,” you feel his hand wrap around your bicep, pulling you away from his crowd without an answer from you. 
“which i can give you if you weren’t so vague... why are you talking to partridge?” 
“you got a problem?”
the two of you are stopped in front of a boy; jake. 
“no, man, i think we’re good,” connor pays him no mind, side stepping him fast with you still in grip, continuing to interrogate you. you ignore connor, watching jake the whole way you’re being pulled while he watches you. you feel as if the boy isn’t real, like he was someone you had made up when you were high, but there he was, staring just as shocked, but equally skeptical as you were pulled further and further from him. 
“are you listening to me, y/n?”
“what?” 
“i asked you what you were on about?” you’re now in an empty corner, secluded away from the rest of the party. “haven’t seen you in days and you’re on a tangent about a boy you barely know, what’s going on?”
you finally focus on him, barely processing the words he was putting in your ears, but you didn’t have to in order to hear the fake sympathy and concern. 
“how do you know louis?”
he shurgs, “see him every time i throw. gotta get to know my usuals.” 
“yeah, and how well have you gotten to know him?”
he shakes his head, feeling attacked, “why?”
“because i think it’s my right to know what you’ve been saying about me to him and whoever else,” the seal of your calmness breaks as you extend an arm out, ready to scold him for anything he was about to say. 
his expression drops in return, knowing any attempt to make you calm and make the situation subtle was out of his hands. connor knew you well enough to know you were too far into your frustration to calm you down. 
“what’re you talking about?”
but that didn’t mean he had to comply. 
“your new choice in men is obviously not working out for you. even they know i’m the best you’ll ever have.” 
“what?” your head drops forward, taken aback at the sudden escalation connor had taken to his approach in words. “what the fuck are you on about?” 
he smirks, pushing the red solo cup he had up to his lips, glancing around before looking back down to you, “why else do you think he lied to you about whatever it is you’re asking?”
“i can’t believe this,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “pull yourself out of that goddamn lie before you make yourself look even more like a fool. what have you been saying about me?”
“i find it best you don’t lie about this one, mate. you have an audience of witnesses,” there’s a hand on your back and a voice intervening. 
the two of you focus to louis who suddenly stands behind you, daring connor to push it. the boy looks confounded looking between you, louis, and the crowd of boys behind him. he doesn’t know what to do within the corner he had backed himself into. 
“whatever, this is my own fucking party. i don’t need to do shit,” he shoves past all of you. you all watch him storm away, not looking back, leaving you all to yourselves in the dust. 
“let’s talk,” louis says immediately the moment you look up to him, nodding off in a random direction. 
you slowly nod, following him. 
“i didn’t think you’d actually ask him.” 
a laugh gets caught in the back of your throat, shaking your head at the ignorance as he opens the passenger door to his car for you, “yeah?”
“yeah,” he slides into his own side of the car. “but then again, what would i know about you?”
“a lot, apparently. more than i would guess,” you lean your head against the palm of your hand, staring at him carefully. “you gonna tell me what he said now?”
louis looks hesitant, not even looking at you anymore as he thinks on how to answer. he doesn’t want to answer, it’s that simple, but he owes it to you to give you something sense he was the one who told you in the first place. 
“when i met connor, he talked about you a lot. a lot for someone i barely saw. it was like every party he had something new to say or nothing new at all. as long as it was you he was talking about,” he smiles to himself, thinking of all the bragging and praising he had put into you, all for connor to just... “you were like a prize to him, y/n--until you weren’t. he called you easy, but you were his. he said he could walk you like a dog because he was the only guy you thought of.” 
you feel rage and annoyance fume in the base of your chest as he speaks. he can see it form in your eyes, take over any look of calmness or subtlety from before. you make a move to push yourself back and out the door but louis is quick to grab your arm, pulling you right back to him, only closer. 
“hold on there, cowgirl,” your almost in his lap. “you’re better than that.”
“am i?” you’re squirming, almost pulling from the grasp his grasp if it weren’t for how warm he made you feel.
“yeah,” he’s smiling at you. “why waste any more of your time with him anyways when you could just be here with me?”
you couldn’t help but fall victim to the pulling sensation on your lips to smile at him. you feel that fuzzy feeling creep up into your stomach at his stare like the first time you were both alone in his car and suddenly all your anger at connor melts away.
“only if you offer me cherry pie.”
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sivyera · 1 year
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Peter Pan being obsessed with you would include...
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@riaqiax for your little request :)
Peter would be definitely obsessed with you
I think he never actually felt love (tbh after all Wendy left him alone so) so that' why he would become addicted to the love you give him
he would be very protective over you and I mean very!
he would protect you more than The Lost Boys
I think at first Hook wouldn't even know that you are in Neverland because Peter would hide you very well
The Lost Boys would love you but soon they will realize that Peter is starting to be obsessed with you but they wouldn't know what to do with it
constantly touching you, be it your leg, arm or back
warm smiles and hugs
lots of kisses a cuddles
he'll teach you how to protect yourself with a sword or knife in case he's not around if any danger crosses your path, but that doesn't happen very often because he's always with you
sometimes you like to explore Neverland by yourself which Peter doesn't really like so he secretly follows you, stalk you
even before he brought you to Neverland he stalked you every single day
If any creature would try to hurt you in any way (mermaids, fairies,...) he will kill tem without hesitation
to be honest I think he will even kill one of The Lost Boy if someone of them say anything hurtful
he will never let you leave Neverland
he just love you to much
I will write some more of this, I just don't think this is written right, something is missing..
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Y/N daughter of hook: who is that? *pointing to pan.*
Hook: a demon, don’t go near him.
Y/N: *thinking: why he got though?*
Pan: *reading their mind:they’ll be mine.*
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