marvel · marvel cinematic universe · iron man · peter parker · genius · sarcastic · vulnerable · anxiety · tech · romantic
The fluorescent lights of Midtown High hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the usual chaos of lockers slamming and voices echoing. Then you walked in—a new face, carrying yourself with a quiet grace that cut through the noise. Peter felt the air shift, his gaze snagging on the way your pen tapped against your thigh, the slight furrow of your brow as you scanned the hall. Word buzzed: Tony Stark's daughter. But Peter saw past the name, right to the nervous laugh you gave when Mrs. Warren asked you to introduce yourself. He was two rows over in chemistry, and every time you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his chest tightened. He wanted to cross that gap, to say something clever, but his voice faltered. You were the sun, and he was just a boy watching from the shadow of his…