Peter Parker & Tom Holland Imagines

never grow up pt.1 {p.p.}

Peter Pan (Parker) AU

Tears build in my eyes as I take off the extravagant dress my mother forced me to wear for the dreadful event. My head throbs from what seemed like the endless hours of exhausting small talk, restrained smiles, and placid looks. It was another ridiculous party, and another friend is happily departing for their Refinement, which will essentially strip them of any excess 'frivolity' or 'uncontrollable emotions.'

I'm not convinced it's nothing more than stripping us of any and all individuality and personality. Yet, I seem to be one of the rare individuals that doesn't anticipate the event. Every friend I've had looks down on me for holding on to the 'childishness' of dreaming and believing that love is real, but I know it is—I've seen it.

My shoulder's sag as I remember my eldest brother, Kellen. He's half the reason Mother worries about me so much. A part of her sees the same signs he showed before he met Charlotte and left for good. The two of them were proof that love isn't something merely for the unrefined or a myth.

I sigh as I sit on the chest beneath my window and stare out into the glittering night sky. This is my favorite place to be. It makes me feel hopeful to know that there's something more than this restricted life of no choices or freedom. I always remember the story of the noble Captain Hook and the rascal Peter Pan that parents tell children about to instill the ideals of refinement.

Yet, I always thought Peter was more of a hero than Hook ever was. He made sure that his lost boys would be able to roam free and be themselves. They were able to run, play, and get messy without worry. As a child, I used to stare at the second star to the right of the moon, which is the path to Neverland, and dream of being a lost girl.

"I wish I could be in Neverland instead of wasting away before my Refinement. If you're out there, feel free to come take me with you." I tell the star as I leave my window and turn in for the night. My curtains billow from the slight breeze that always puts me to sleep, and I smile softly at the star from my pillow while drifting off into dreams about Neverland.

"You sure about this, Tink? She doesn't seem like the type." A voice calls from above me, and I blearily open my eyes to find a boy above me, his face only inches from mine.

I bite back a scream as I scramble to sit up with my back against my headboard. My hands bunch up my blankets and sheets into fists; eyes tracing over the boy dangling from the ceiling over the foot of my bed.

It takes a moment for the shock to dissipate and realization to settle in as I piece it all together. The messy brown curls, well-worn and patched clothing, and the fact that he's still hanging on the ceiling connect the boy in front of me to the bedtime story.

"Peter Pan?" I question in a whisper as my hands relax and drop the covers.

The boy lets out a small laugh as he scratches the back of his neck—a twinge of pink dusting his cheeks. "I forgot that what people here know me as."

"Then, what is your name?" I whisper and watch him in complete wonder. "Mine's Y/N, Y/N L/N."

"Peter," he replies with a proud smile and drops down to the floor in front of me and smiles widely. "I'm Peter Parker, and that's Tink."

"Hello," the shimmering faerie chimes before turning her gaze to the trinkets on my cluttered desk. "You should probably explain things, Peter. We don't exactly have all night for you to flirt."

"Tink!" He scolds as patches of red paint his cheeks, and I tilt my head wondering what she could have meant that he would react like he was embarrassed. Peter tries to brush it off and stutters as he finally meets my eye. "Right, we should—um—we're here to—"

"—To take you to Neverland!" Tink cheers and hovers in front of me. "So pack a bag and get dressed; 'cause in the morning, you'll be a lost girl."

"Really?" I ask feeling my heart swell in excitement as I look between them and try to convince myself this isn't a crazy dream. "You'll let me go with you?"

"Of course. Why else do you think we came here?" Peter asks, a sad look in his eyes as he realizes that I was genuinely uncertain. "Go ahead, change, and pack a bag that you can carry. We don't have long before—" His words are cut off as I wrap my arms around him in a tight, grateful hug.

"I'll only be a minute." I tell him as I pull away quickly so he doesn't get the chance to notice my thundering heartbeat or flushed cheeks.

Instead, my focus moves to my window seat, where I stash all my things that my mother doesn't approve of. There's a bag of it all already packed for the the moment I had finally gained enough courage to leave. I open the makeshift sack to check that everything is still there and grab a pair well-worn trousers and basic top to wear instead of my pajamas.

Peter's eyes meet mine, full of a sad understanding and curiosity before he realizes he's been caught. "I'll-um—just change behind the screen." I mumble, feeling a strange patter in my chest from the look he's giving me.

I slip out of my silky pajamas that I've always despised and quickly slide into the comfortable clothing. When I emerge from behind the modesty screen, which I'm suddenly thankful Mother insisted I have, Peter is flipping through the pages of a leather bound notebook, while Tink searches through a sewing kit I've never used.

"Please, don't look at those. It's private." I squeak as I take the book of my sketches from his hands and shove it in the bottom of my bag. "Thank you—for letting me come with you, I mean. I don't even know how I can ever repay you."

"Well," Tink chimes in as she leans against a random silver trinket that she could use as bucket, "you could give him a kiss." I do my best to hide my complete and utter confusion at what a kiss is, since it's clear both of them know. The word is familiar, but the item itself is completely foreign.

"Oh, of—of course." I mumble and grab the silver faerie bucket, assuming that must be what she meant. After all, I'm sure I've heard Mother say something about a kiss before, and it might have been when she gave me the sewing kit.

Peter looks at me with wide eyes as I turn back to him, but the expression quickly changes as I hold up the kiss. "Consider it my way of saying 'thank you' for everything.'"

"Now that that's done," Tink says through wheezing breaths, and I swear it looks like she's trying not to laugh, "We should probably get going before we're caught."

"Are you ready?" Peter asks me and offers a hand as he leans out the window.

"Absolutely." I tell him with a wide smile as I strap the bag across my chest. It takes one last look over my shoulder at the cluttered room that seems to have encapsulated my whole life before it really hits me that this is my last time here. I take his hand and whisper. "Take me to Neverland."