[ beautiful | peter pan ]
Request: Can you do “world is black and grey till they touch” soulmate au please? Oh! And can (y/n) hate being touched? Like so when anyone tries to touch them they freak out or somthing? The reason why they do that is up to you.
thanks for requesting! and sure, i can incorporate it! this is the only time i know who requested this imagine, so @surveycoregirl hope you enjoy :)
Warnings: um, there’s one word that might be triggering to some people, so if that applies to you, please do not read
— — —
For as long as Y/N could remember, she had never let anyone close to her skin.
Even when she had been born, the doctors had gloves on and would not touch her bare skin. Her parents had never come in contact with her.
Every time they had tried, she screamed.
Whenever she asked why she disliked other people touching her so much, her parents always vaguely answered “You’re not old enough to know.”
Y/N had long ago given up trying to get answers to questions people were not willing to answer.
It didn’t help that when her parents finally deemed her old enough to know the answer, they only told her that she was “dangerous and only supposed to let the person of your dreams touch you.”
Dangerous?
Who was the person of her dreams?
Who would want to be?
After all, she might have had a contagious skin disease that could only be passed through contact.
Every time Y/N stepped outside, people were everywhere, touching each other. Two strangers, brushing hands accidentally. A couple, holding hands as they strolled down the street. A mother with her son, carefully carrying him in the crook of her arm.
It became a habit of hers to wear long-sleeve shirts and long pants, even in the summer. She couldn’t bear to touch someone who wasn’t her soulmate. There was no way she was going to let herself get touched by people who weren’t supposed to stay with her forever.
She was dangerous, wasn’t she?
However, Y/N wondered how it felt to touch people.
Was it like in the movies, with sparks flying and fireworks popping?
Was it calm and serene, a moment that no one would have noticed unless pointed out by someone else?
Was it how it felt to be close to another?
Every morning, she stared at herself in the mirror, staring at her grey face and her black clothes. She had grown used to seeing the world in shades of black and white.
Y/N often asked her parents what colour her eyes were, what colour her lips were, what colour her face was. They were the so-called “soulmates”, ones that, upon touch, could see the world in bright, dazzling colours.
It was obvious that her parents loved each other. Stars seemed to leap out of their skin when they touched.
“Beautiful,” they called each other. “You’re beautiful.”
There was no way she could ever be able to see the world in bright, dazzling colours.
There was no way stars would leap out of her skin.
There was no way she was going to call someone else ‘beautiful’.
She wasn’t willing to take the risk.
Being the only one not allowing herself to touch others, Y/N was cut off from the rest of the world. Labelled as a ‘freak’ or ‘depressed’ in school hurt her more than she would admit.
No one liked being called a ‘freak’.
Nighttime was her only friend. When her parents were asleep, Y/N could finally take her long-sleeved shirt and long pants off and instead wear comfortable pyjamas.
There was no chance of her being touched accidentally at night.
For the fifth night in a row, Y/N leaned against the wall in her window seat, letting out an imperceptible sigh. The night air whisked away her breaths and she found herself murmuring to herself.
“I wish I could touch someone.”
“I wish I wasn’t dangerous.”
“I wish I believed in myself.”
A gentle whoosh of the wind pushed against her and she glanced out her window, startled.
What was that?
A shadowed figure was darting towards her, flying floating running across the…
Roof of the house across from hers?!
Y/N strained her neck to see what it was, and realized.
It wasn’t a shadowed figure.
It was a shadow.
And it was coming straight for her.
Oh no.
Panicking, Y/N tried to jump across her bed to get to her long-sleeved shirt.
She was wearing a T-shirt and pyjama pants.
The shadow grabbed her pants leg and dragged her backward. It kept a shadowy hand over her mouth, preventing her from screaming.
No no no —
“Come with me, little girl,” the shadow rumbled. “He wants to see you.”
He?
The shadow flew out of the window with Y/N in tow.
She was dumped onto sand a few hours later, dizzy and cold from flying. Y/N staggered to her feet, narrowing her eyes at the strange place.
She was standing on an island, which was overgrown with many black trees. It was too dark and too colourless to even see more than ten meters ahead.
Where was this?
“Where am I?” Y/N asked, turning around.
The shadow was nowhere to be found.
“Where are you, you stupid shadow! I need answers!”
No answer.
She huffed in frustration and turned around a few times, trying to find a way off the island.
Stupid shadow.
“You won’t find a way off the island unless I want you to.”
A voice.
Y/N whirled around to see a boy dressed in a shade of grey. His face was a pale grey and his eyes were another shade of grey.
Grey, grey, grey.
There was no other colour she could see.
“Where am I?”
“Neverland, love.” The boy smirked.
… Neverland?
That was a place of fairytale.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “What am I doing here?”
“You said the words, so I had my Shadow take you here.”
“What words?”
“’I believe.’”
The boy had an answer for everything.
“What’s your name?” Y/N asked.
“Did I forget to introduce myself?” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m Peter. Peter Pan.”
“Really. A fairytale.”
“Yes. Now, do you want to go home?”
Y/N nodded. “Yeah. I should go. My parents will be worried if I don’t show up in the morning.”
“I’ll let you get off of Neverland if you tend to the Lost Boys for a few days first.”
“A few days?!” Y/N shouted. “My parents will go crazy!”
He shrugged. “That’s… your problem. But work with me, and you’ll get back to your parents in a few days. Work against me, and you’ll never get back.”
There was no way she could win.
“Fine,” she spat. “Where are your so-called ‘Lost Boys’?”
Peter smirked again. “Follow me.”
Tending to the Lost Boys had not actually been that difficult.
It was the gnawing fear of her parents worrying too much for her that ate away at the fun.
Y/N helped with setting ground rules and getting the camp to run efficiently. Under her control, the entire camp changed from unruly and reckless to orderly and reckless.
It was when she had to leave that she found much more difficult.
The Shadow wasn’t there to grab her pants leg again and take her home. No, it was gone when Y/N needed it most.
Peter had to help her get home.
The only way he could help her get home was to come in contact with her skin.
“Absolutely not,” Y/N disagreed, crossing her arms across her body for protection. “I will not let you touch me.”
“What’s it going to do, love? It’s just for a few hours and then you can go home.” Peter pointed out, glancing down at his small bottle of pixie dust. “You can’t use the dust by yourself. Someone has to touch me to get it to work.”
“Can’t we wait until the Shadow gets back?”
“Do you want your parents to wait another week before you get back?”
“We have to wait for the Shadow.”
“Y/N, it’s just a few hours!”
“It’s not about the time, Peter!” She yelled back. “I — I — “
I’m dangerous.
I can damage people.
I will hurt.
“You what, Y/N?” Peter’s face held an exasperated look. “Do you want to go home, or not? Stop wasting my time.”
“I don’t know, okay?! I want to go home but I can’t touch you!”
The boy rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
He disappeared from view.
What?
“Peter?”
“Peter, where’d you go?”
Where was he?
“Right here.”
Y/N jumped and her senses blurred as her nerves were shocked.
Peter seized the chance.
He grabbed her arm and the pixie dust rained down on them.
The moment Y/N realized he was holding onto her was the moment she started screaming.
She shut her eyes and hoped she wouldn’t die.
Goosebumps up her arm.
Heartbeat pitter-pattering.
Breaths shallowing.
Was she dying?
Was this death?
Y/N opened her eyes one after the other.
And was shocked to see what happened.
Peter was…
Y/N didn’t even have the word for it.
“You’re… you’re…”
He was as shocked as she was. “Are you my soul — “
“Beautiful.”
He cocked his head to one side, confused. “What?”
Yes.
That was the word.
Beautiful.
Peter was beautiful.
No wonder her parents always called each other beautiful.
“You’re… beautiful.”
