Tony's Stark Personal Intern
Peter never meant to let it slip.
It happened in the most tragically Peter Parker way: sleep-deprived, mid-coffee sip, while reviewing flashcards for the next Decathlon meet in the cafeteria.
Ned, MJ, Abe, Cindy, and a few others were huddled around the table, sharing notes and collectively dreading AP Chem. Flash, of course, was at the end, pretending he wasn’t part of the group but totally still listening.
“Okay, but like,” Abe said, flipping through his stack of cards, “where do you even find the time to study, Peter? You disappear for days sometimes.”
“Yeah,” Cindy added, “And your internship thing? Do you actually work somewhere or is that just code for ‘nerd cave’?”
Peter, already halfway through a yawn, said without thinking, “No, it’s real. I’m Tony Stark’s personal intern.”
Ned choked on his apple juice.
“WHAT?!” MJ said flatly, though her eyes finally left her book.
Flash straight-up laughed. “You? Please. There’s no way Tony Stark would hire Peter Parker. Maybe to clean his lab floors.”
“It’s true!” Ned blurted, still recovering. “He has clearance! Like—like Stark-level clearance. I’ve seen it. He’s been to the Tower.”
“Yeah right,” Flash scoffed. “Next you’ll say he’s met Pepper Potts.”
“Twice,” Peter muttered under his breath.
MJ squinted at him. “Say you’re lying.”
Peter, now fully awake, realized his mistake. “Look, I’m not trying to brag. It’s just an internship. Sort of. I do tech diagnostics and help with engineering projects and, you know… weird high-level AI stuff.”
Flash looked around like he was being pranked. “Okay, who gave Peter a thesaurus full of fake science words?”
By fourth period, the whole school had heard.
Betty from the morning announcements cornered him near his locker with her phone recording. “Peter Parker, is it true you work for Tony Stark?”
“No comment,” Peter said, holding up his hands like he was dodging paparazzi.
By fifth period, even Mr. Harrington was whispering to Coach Wilson in the teacher’s lounge. “I knew he was more than just a bright student. That kid has ‘prodigy’ written all over him!”
“He also once put a magnet through my whiteboard,” Coach Wilson deadpanned.
And by sixth period… Peter was considering transferring schools.
The next morning, everything exploded.
It started when a matte black Stark Industries car rolled up in front of Midtown High. Security followed. So did a second car. And a very annoyed Happy Hogan climbed out, immediately scowling at the press of students watching from inside.
And then—of course—Tony Stark himself stepped out, sunglasses on, coffee in hand, holding an enormous fruit basket wrapped in gold foil.
“Is this the right nerd school?” he asked Happy.
Happy grunted. “Unfortunately, yes.”
Peter was mid-morning hallway shuffle when he heard the wave of whispers and screams erupt like someone had just announced Beyoncé was subbing in for PE.
He turned—and nearly walked into Tony.
“Oh no.”
“Hey, Underoos,” Tony said, grinning. “You forget to tell your friends who your mentor is, or were you just planning to keep the whole ‘Stark Intern’ thing on the down-low forever?”
“I didn’t mean to—"
“It’s fine. I made a PowerPoint.” Tony handed the fruit basket to Principal Morita, who looked entirely unprepared to hold two dozen artisanal mangoes. “Consider this an official confirmation. Yes, Peter Parker is my personal intern. Yes, he’s brilliant. No, you cannot borrow him to fix your Chromebook.”
He snapped his fingers and Happy opened a case like a bodyguard in an action movie. Inside was a Stark Industries–branded tablet. Tony tapped it.
“Please enjoy this short presentation titled ‘Why Peter Parker is Cooler Than You Think.’”
The school stared as a slideshow began playing in the hallway TVs and classroom screens: photos of Peter helping rewire tech, schematics with his notes in the margins, even a blurred-out pic of him wearing safety goggles next to a glowing reactor core.
Tony looked around at the stunned students. “So now that we’ve cleared that up—Pete, I’m late for a meeting. Don’t forget your upgrade kit. Bye, kids. Stay in school.”
And with that, he was gone.
The rest of the day was a blur of shocked teachers, slack-jawed students, and an entire Decathlon team suddenly re-evaluating everything they knew about Peter Parker.
“You—you really work with Tony Stark?” Cindy said, staring at him like he’d grown a second head.
“Since sophomore year,” Peter muttered, flushing.
“I helped him with one AI tuning protocol,” Ned said proudly. “For like six minutes. But I was there.”
Flash just stood in the background, arms folded, mumbling to himself, “Still not cool. Just cause Stark likes him doesn’t mean—okay, fine, maybe it’s a little cool.”
MJ, of course, looked Peter dead in the eye. “So. Intern for a billionaire. Sleepwalks into cactus traps. Accidentally flashes abs in gym class. How are you still the weirdest person I know?”
Peter just shrugged. “Talent.”