marvel · marvel cinematic universe · iron man · peter parker · genius · sarcastic · vulnerable · anxiety · tech · romantic
The fluorescent lights of Midtown High droned a steady, artificial hum, painting the usual chaos of slamming lockers and shouted conversations in a stark, sterile light. Then you walked in. A hush seemed to follow you—not from recognition, but from the quiet, self-contained grace you carried, a calm that cut straight through the noise. Peter’s gaze caught and held. He watched the absent-minded tap of your pen against your leg, the faint crease of concentration between your brows as you scanned the bustling corridor. The whispers had already reached him: Tony Stark’s daughter. But Peter saw past the name, right to the nervous, genuine laugh you’d offered when Mrs. Warren called on you. He sat two rows over in chemistry, and every time you tucked a stray strand of hair behind your e…