Satin Slippers - Part 2: Allegretto
hey guys! sorry if this sucks, i’ve been writing it between classes today. if there is anything you don’t like about it, please let me know and I’ll work to fix it/update it! Please stay tuned for part 3!! also, if you have any suggestions for part 3, please send them to me! I hope you enjoy!
Some angst, mostly fluff!
High School!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Word count: 2860
The air was brisk on this spring morning as you walked to the subway. It was the kind of crispness that bit your cheeks but promised warm breezes in the afternoon. The snow was starting to melt uncovering the budding flowers beneath the winter sheath. The suns brightness rained onto you, giving you warmth as you walked down the steps to the subway.
You were on your way to meet Peter for a coffee and a bagel at the stand outside the subway stop. This had become your usual routine and you loved having his company on your journey to school.
Since that night in your room a few weeks ago, the two of you had gotten closer than ever. He would come over every night, regardless if he had avengers work to do. Sometimes he would even wait outside your ballet studio and walk with you back to the tower, he would simply justify it by saying the sky was getting dark or that it was “on his way” to whatever he was supposed to do that evening.
Your dad said very little about the budding relationship, well, if you could call it a relationship. Neither of you had confessed anything and the most severe thing you had done was the odd hug here or there. You couldn’t tell if Peter liked you as a friend or if there was something more there. You often found yourself at the end of the night regretting that you hadn’t made a move on Peter, but in the same breath, why hadn’t he made a move? ‘Maybe it was just friendship after all? ‘you’d often think to yourself.
The rustling of people merging off the subway pulled you from your day dream. Rubbing your eyes with a sigh, you follow the herd of people on their way out of the subway and into their daily routine. Waiting at the top of the stairs was that familiar boy with the big brown doe eyes who had constellations of freckles over the bridge of his nose that spread across his cheeks. The sight of him made your heart flutter, part of you just wanted to grab his face and kiss him good morning.
“Good morning, Y/N!” The bright eyed and bushy tailed boy exclaims, “how did you sleep last night?” He smiles as the two of you commence your walk to the bagel stand.
“Eh, it was okay. I think I pulled my hamstring last night at dance, it was giving me some trouble when I was trying to sleep.” You sigh, the sweet smell of java filling your nose and awakening your senses.
“Oh no! uh, I know some stretches that I could maybe show you?” Peter says in a worried tone. Suddenly, a blush grew on his face as he realized that his words could have come across incredibly inappropriate. “Uh, I didn’t mean it like that, like, uh,” He panics, “I know a few that could help…some of those spidey poses can be brutal.” Peter whispers while trying to hide his face from his growing embarrassment.
“That would be great, Peter. Maybe tonight you could help me out. We can foam roll together!” You laugh, rubbing his shoulder in a silent effort to show him that everything was alright.
“Good morning, Joey!” Peter beams at the bagel man, “Could I get an everything bagel with cream cheese and a BLT. Could I also get a chai latte, for this lovely lady, and an earl grey tea?” he says politely while reaching into his back pocket to take out his wallet.
“Here, Peter-“you start as you whip your backpack to the side and unzip the front pocket, fishing around for your wallet.
“No, no, it’s on me this morning.” Peter smiles, “It’s the least I could do. The last thing we’d want is for you to be starving and tired at your dress rehearsal tonight.” Peter smiles as he hands Joey, the bagel man, a 20$ bill. “May always says that ‘breakfast is the most important meal of the day!’” He jokes in a high-pitched voice.
“Wow, I can’t believe you remembered that my dress rehearsal is tonight. I don’t even think that dad remembers…” Your voice trails off, as you look down at your ratty converse on the cold pavement.
Recently, your dad had been back and forth to Dubai with Pepper for business or locked away in the lab working on some new weapon. While you knew this is who he was, you still missed having him around to talk about life with. It’s not that he didn’t make the time for you, he tried to cook dinner with you or help you with your homework, but with your dance schedule picking up to prepare for the spring recital and Peter always being around to help you do school work, your schedules rarely lined up.
“Of course! You got that incredible solo, the mashuka? Marchinka?-“
“The Mazurka!” You laugh at Peter’s attempt to pronounce the Polish word. That boy always knew how to cheer you up. Deep down you knew that he was purposefully butchering the name just to get a giggle out of you.
Peter passes you your bagel and chai latte as you commence your walk to school. Your first class of the morning was Functions while Peter was going to be stuck in Advanced Calculus.
“So, Saturday night…, would you want to go grab a bite after your show?” Peter mumbles quickly, taking a swig of his tea. The hot water burned his lips which caused him to react with the most hilarious face.
“Well, Dad is supposed to take me for dinner…if he’s around, but I’m sure you could tag along, if you want!” You smile, oblivious to Peter’s failed attempt at asking you out.
“Oh! Uh…Yeah sure-I mean, as long as I’m not interrupting family time.” Peter says nervously, looking at you for reassurance.
“Peter, I would love for you to be there. Please come.” You beg him softly, looking him right in the eye as you grab his free hand in yours. His hands were always so warm compared to your frozen finger tips. His cheeks grew to a slight shade of pink at your bold gesture. There was this look in his eye that made your stomach do somersaults. This sweet, silent moment was interrupted by the noisy, ear splitting, red bell that signaled a warning that classes commenced in five minutes.
The two of you walk into the school, still awkwardly half-holding hands. The crowded, busy halls forcing you two to be incredibly close, just mere inches away from each other.
“Thank you again for breakfast, Pete! I’ll see you at lunch?” You smile, yearning to lean over and kiss him on the cheek. You knew that such a bold move might frighten him, so you tried to push the thought out of your head by reminding yourself about your math quiz in first period.
“You bet, good luck on your quiz! Remember, double check your answers!” Peter smiles as you two branch down separate hall ways.
After a long day, you finally were free and excited for rehearsal. Someone had left a new pair of pointe shoes in your room this morning, courteousy of your dad, before school, and you were excited to break them in so they could be just perfect for the show on Saturday.
As you walked out of the subway station and to the dance studio, you reach into your dance bag to find a hair elastic. Instead, you pull out a note.
’Ballet is not technique but a way of expression that comes more closely to the inner language of man than any other’ – George Borodin, I hope you have a good rehearsal! I’ll see you later xx Peter
The thoughtfulness of the note brought a smile to your face. You had no idea how he managed to slip that note into your bag, but it didn’t matter. The gesture itself made you feel like you were on cloud nine.
Once you reached the studio, you changed into your costume for the recital. A long, tulle skirt that flowed just past your knees, with a white beaded bodice and white arm poofs. Your jewelry and tiara were safely tucked away in a velvet bag in your cubby, but you didn’t have the energy to fuss with it.
You slowly place your foot into your new pointe shoe, testing the strength of the elastics and the grip in the block of the toe. It felt perfect.
“Hey Y/N!” Annabelle’s voice rings from behind you. You turn around flexing your ankles to break in the arch of the shoe. “Did you get new shoes?” She asks politely, pointing at the crisp baby pink slippers.
“Yeah, they were a gift from my dad. I think it’s his way of apologizing for being so absent lately.” You sigh, looking up at Annabelle, her red hair tucked neatly into a bun.
“Where is he?” She asks, a concerned look forming on her face.
“He’s been either busy with work or in Dubai with my step-mom…for work.” You explain, walking closer to the studio door.
“Well, if you ever need anything, you are always welcome to stay at my place. My parents love you!” Annabelle peeps, touching your shoulder in reassurance.
“Thanks Annie. I may take you up on the offer.” You half smile.
“How’s that Peter boy you like?” Annabelle asks as she ties up her pointe shoes, looking over at you innocently.
“Oh…” You blush, your reaction brings a smile to Annabelle’s face. “He left me an adorable note in my bag today, and I’m pretty sure he’s coming on Saturday.” You mention. You couldn’t help but let a smile creep across your mouth at the thought of Peter in the front row watching you.
“I hope I get the chance to meet him after the show then.” Annabelle winks, slowly opening the door to the studio and walking in. You followed closely behind her, ready to start your stretches and run through the ballet.
“Okay ladies! Great work! Please hang up your costumes in their proper spots so no one loses any pieces between today and the show!” The ballet mistress says as the tired dancers walk out of the studio.
“Y/N!” She calls, scurrying to catch you before you walk out the door.
“You did a great job in the Mazurka. I just wanted to give you a couple of notes, make sure that when you come down from a jump, you really lean into that front leg for balance. Also, just really think about doing a full round of motion with your arms when you lean in for your jumps. Otherwise, great work!” She smiles as she prances into the director’s office.
You were exhausted but relieved. You hadn’t forgotten anything since your solo rehearsal on Tuesday and your hamstring hadn’t bothered you yet. You had given it an extra good stretch and warm up before class today to ensure you don’t injure it any further.
You gently untie your new slippers and place them into your quilted dance bag. You decided to bundle up for the brisk walk home to try and keep your muscles warm, throwing on some sweat pants and tucking them into uggs. You placed your ratty converse into your back pack and zip up your coat.
Finally, time to go home.
The moment you reached the tower, you felt as if your legs were going to fall off. Slumping into the elevator, you rested your head on the wall and enjoyed the music in your ears. You were listening to Beethoven’s Pathetique, op. 13. There was something about this music that evoked so much emotion in you, an observation that you had learnt from your grandmother.
You wished that she could have been here to see you dance and perform your first big solo. Some days it felt as if she had left too soon, and in this tough time with your dad, you really wished that she was here to talk to. Your grandma always gave the best advice. She knew how to handle your dad when he was being difficult, and she always knew how to cheer you up.
As the elevator doors opened, you called into the tower to see if anyone was home. You assumed that since the lights were off, and you had received no reply, that you were alone.
Reaching your bedroom, you tossed your bags on your bed and grabbed the picture of your Grandmother off your dresser. You pressed it tightly into your chest, praying that somehow it will feel the same as if she were giving you a tight embrace in real life. You could feel tears start to sting at your eyes, the mix of stress, fatigue and tension has you on the brink of a full-on cry.
With a sigh, you place your grandmother’s photo back in its place and walk into your bathroom. You decide that the best thing is to run a bath and try to relax.
After your nice bath, you decided to bundle up in something comfortable and make yourself a hot chocolate. It was times like this, when you were all alone, that being in the tower was both comforting and depressing. Your grandmother had always expressed that you need to know how to take care of yourself, and to you, the best way was to watch a movie with some hot chocolate.
Once you had your mug full of the chocolate goodness, you walked to the living room and plopped down into your favourite spot on the couch, curling up with your dearest fluffy blanket.
“FRIDAY can you please turn on Singing in the Rain?” You ask the AI politely.
“Yes, Y/N.” The AI replies and before you knew it, the sound of Gene Kelly’s feet was tip tapping across your screen.
About twenty minutes into the movie, you heard the ‘ping’ of the elevator doors open. Pulling your attention away from the film, you said a brave “Hello?” to the stranger entering your home.
The next thing you knew, you saw a brown curly haired boy pop his head around the corner. His backpack overflowing with stuff, as per usual. Peter dropped his bag by the arm of the couch and walked in front of you, blocking your view of the movie.
“Hey.” He said calmly, running a hand through his hair. His expression changed when he noticed your red puffy eyes. “Are you okay, Y/N? What’s wrong? Is it your hamstring? Do you need me to help you to a doctor? You know, it’s only a couple of blocks-“The boy’s panic was interrupted by your laughter. His concerned expression grew into a confused look.
“I’m okay, Peter. I’m just upset with my dad. But thank you for worrying.” You smiled, grabbing his hand. “Thank you for the note, too. It really put a bounce in my step after reading it.”
Peter’s cheeks grew red as he tried to hide the smile that was forcing itself on his lips.
“Anytime. I knew you were having a tough morning…Do you want to talk about it?” Peter asked softly, sitting beside you. He made sure to keep his hand in yours, the feeling of touching you sent his heart into a frenzy.
“No…” You sighed as you felt a lump grow in your throat. “yes…” You sobbed, placing your hands over your face. The last thing you wanted to do was scare Peter away by having a full-blown meltdown in his lap.
“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s okay.” He hummed, rubbing your back in a circular motion. “Why don’t you tell me what happened? You mentioned earlier that your dad has been away a lot?” Peter encouraged, forcing a small smile across his lips.
“Yeah,” You snorted as you wiped your nose with the sleeve of your sweater, “He’s been gone for almost a month with Pepper, and I never get to see him. I’m stressed with life and I miss him. I miss my grandma but that isn’t going to change, and I just feel alone! And being alone when you’re tired and stressed is hard.” You sobbed, pouring your heart out to poor Peter.
“But you aren’t alone, Y/N. I’m here…and I’m not planning on going anywhere.” Peter smiled, grabbing your face between his soft hands. “I know life can be tough, but I will be here rain or shine.” He smiles.
In that moment, it felt as if the world had stopped. Peter’s big, brown doe eyes were looking at you with the most loving look and that is when it clicked. This was more than a friendship, this was love. He loved you and you loved him, but you were both too scared to do anything. This was your chance.
Peter’s face slowly moved closer to yours, eyes closing as he leaned in.
Just as he was about to kiss you, the elevator door flew open and all the lights in the tower sprung awake.
“Honey, I’m home!” a familiar, parental voice called out.