What if your wish to dissapear from this world could be made true? What if all the stories your grandmother told you actually happened? A magical world opens up before you, gliding through the sky, surrounded by shimmering water and cotton candy clo...
Quick disclaimer, this is my first time writing something like this, so be aware of weird plotlines or spelling mistakes. There just wasn't enough fanfic of this trope and I was gagging for it, so I'll go ahead and write it myself. I probably won't proof read this too much so I'm not sure if this is going to be readable or not.
Also dont expect an update to the story any time soon. Currently writing a marvel fanfic but wanna spend some proper time on it before it goes online.
The story is based on the 2003 live adaptation, with some story line inspiration from the 2023 adaptation.
Be aware of some smut and fluff! This is a slow burner so if you can't wait I'll drop the saucy chapters in here when I know when x
This first chapter is a lot of Peter Pan stuff, I'm sorry but a proper introduction to him is needed. Don't worry the same will happen for Hooky
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Fluff starts at chapter 4, Smut at chapter 5
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Characters
Captain Hook: Jason Isaacs (freaking love this picture so much ;-; )
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Peter Pan: Young Jude Law (for age appropriate reading, the og peter pan is a little too young for this story)
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Once upon a time in a city that never sleeps, there lived a girl named Y/N. She lay on a bed in a dimly lit apartment, with neon lights flickering through her open balcony window, casting a purple and blue glow on her pale skin. Her thick and wavy strawberry hair covered half of her sleepy face as it sprawled on the bedsheets. A drop of sweat glistened on her cheek, a product of the thick, humid summer air that filled the room.
My life was far from easy. At a young age, my parents had split, leaving my grandmother to raise me. I spent most of my years at my grandmother's, living through her stories, imagining new worlds, and fantasizing about make-believe adventures. My parents had cut contact with me, and I wasn't even sure if they would recognize me anymore. I wasn't mad at them, nor sad, just numb—numb for the feeling of being loved or cared for by my own mother and father. The only thing good in my life was my grandmother. She used to say to me, "Just forget them, forget them all, Y/N."
