Chapter Text
The ballroom glittered with Stark Industries’ signature shine—polished marble, chandeliers sparkling brighter than the cameras flashing around the room. It was one of those nights where Tony would rather be in his lab, Pepper would rather be in a board meeting, and Peter… well, Peter would rather be anywhere but here.
But being Tony Stark’s public personal intern meant he got dragged into events like this—“networking opportunities,” Pepper had called it, smiling as she adjusted his bowtie like she was his mom, it was a wonderful feeling to feel.
Peter fixed his hair, though it still came out the same—fluffy although a bit messy. But the suit he was wearing wasn’t just a tuxedo; it was one of Tony’s personal suits—tailored, sleek, and somehow making Peter look far older than fifteen. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror earlier and had nearly tripped over his own shoes.
“..No way that’s me.”
Now, walking beside Tony and Pepper through the crowd of business executives and celebrities, Peter caught people staring. Not in the usual Spider-Man in Queens way. In the “who’s that?” way.
“Relax, kid,” Tony muttered, swirling the drink in his hand. “You look fine.”
“Fine?” Pepper gave Tony a pointed look. “He looks stunning.”
“Pep, don’t boost his ego. His head’s already big enough.”
Before Peter could respond, a woman with a mic and camera crew appeared, swooping in like a hawk on prey. “Mr. Stark, Pepper Potts—always a pleasure!” Then her eyes landed on Peter, and practically sparkled. “And… oh my goodness! Who is this? A new face!”
Peter froze. “Uh—”
The camera zoomed in, live, red light blinking. The reporter leaned closer, smiling like she’d just found her headline. “We weren’t expecting a model on tonight’s guest list! Tell us—what designer are you wearing? Armani? Tom Ford?”
Peter blinked. “I—uh.. I think it’s Stark-brand? Like, not official, but—”
“A Stark Industries exclusive! Of course!” She gasped. “How fabulous! Your presence here is already setting the internet on fire. Tell us, how did you get discovered as a model?”
Tony choked on his drink. Pepper pressed a hand to her lips to hide a laugh.
Peter’s brain short-circuited. Model? He opened his mouth, but Tony slid an arm around his shoulders before he could answer.
“He’s not a model,” Tony said, smirking at the camera. “This is Peter Parker.. you know, my personal intern?”
There was a pause, and then the reporter’s eyebrows shot up, eyes flicking between Peter and Tony like she’d just uncovered the scandal of the century.
“Intern?” she repeated, disbelief dripping from her voice. “That’s him? But… look at him! He looks more than the intern you introduced us to back then.” She gestured wildly at Peter, who by now wished the floor would swallow him whole.
“Yes,” Tony said dryly. “But he’s still the same intern that’s into science, robotics, and Artificial Intelligence stuff. You know—things that require brain cells. Not runway walks.”
Peter, cheeks red, finally found his voice. He mumbled into the mic, “Yeah, uh… I do homework, not Vogue covers.”
The crowd around them chuckled. Pepper squeezed Peter’s arm reassuringly. The reporter, realizing her mistake, laughed a little too loudly. “Well, the camera loves you anyway, Peter Parker!”
As they moved away, Tony couldn’t stop grinning. “A model, huh? Guess I should start charging you for borrowing my tux.”
Peter groaned. “Mr. Stark, please—”
“No, no, don’t worry, kid.” Tony gave him a playful nudge. “Next press conference, I’ll introduce you properly; Peter Parker, genius intern, part-time superhero, full-time accidental fashion icon.”
Pepper shook her head, but she was smiling too. “Honestly, Peter, they’re not wrong. You really do look.. stunning tonight.”
Peter ducked his head, embarrassed, and muttered, “I’m never wearing a suit again.”
Tony smirked. “Sure, kid. Until the next gala.”
“THERE’S A NEXT ONE—?!”
“Endless galas, kid. Of course there’s a next one—there’s always a next one.”
He stayed with Tony that night, he had permission for a sleepover in the tower since May was gonna be coming home late from her job and Peter didn’t wanna be alone. By the next morning, Peter had convinced himself the whole thing was no big deal. Just one embarrassing moment, a reporter who didn’t know better, and a tuxedo that looked way too good on him. Nothing that would follow him back to Queens.
Until he opened his phone.
“Oh no.”
Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, YouTube—it was everywhere. Clips of the interview, screenshots of him looking awkward-yet-unfairly-handsome, edits set to pop music, and somehow—already tons of thirst trap edits.. seriously? Moving on—hashtags like #StarkGalaIntern and #PeterParker were trending. Someone even posted a slowed-down video of him adjusting his bowtie with the caption: This man just saved fashion.
Peter nearly dropped his phone.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Tony and Pepper were already watching the news. A split-screen showed Tony’s smug face on one side and Peter’s deer-in-headlights look on the other.
“‘Intern,’” the anchor was saying, “but the internet isn’t buying it. Who is the young man that stole the spotlight at Stark Industries’ gala?”
Tony muted the TV just in time for Peter to shuffle in, hood over his head.
“Kid,” Tony said, smirking, “Congratulations. You’re famous.”
“I’m not!” Peter protested, waving his phone. “This! This is a nightmare!”
Pepper hid her smile behind her coffee mug with a text saying “I Love Iron Man,” apparently Tony gave it to her, because what’s more funny than gifting your girlfriend your own merchandise? “I think it’s sweet. People are just captivated by how good you looked.”
“I didn’t look good, the tuxedo and teenager hair did all the work!”
“Disagree,” Tony said, leaning back in his chair. “That face of sheer panic? Gold. The internet can’t get enough of it.”
Peter groaned loudly, covering his face with both hands. “I can’t go to school like this. Everyone’s gonna see it.”
“Oh, relax.” Tony reached over, plucked Peter’s phone from his grip, and started scrolling. “You’ll survive. Let’s see—yep, here’s a fancam edit. Nice transitions, dramatic lighting… honestly, kid.. I’ve seen worse promo videos for actual models.”
Pepper shot Tony a look. “Don’t tease him too much.” Then, more softly to Peter, “It’ll blow over soon.”
But it didn’t.
When Peter came back home to Aunt May, she was.. happy about it—which is actually a huge understatement by the way, she’s more than happy to hear her nephew stole the hearts of many—she bragged about how the Parker genes and Parker luck finally paid off all the while being proud of Peter.
But at Midtown High, Peter was met with stares, whispers, and not-so-subtle phone cameras. His locker was plastered with printouts of the meme—him holding the mic, captioned: I’m just an intern, bro. Suddenly, everyone believed he was actually Tony Stark’s personal intern now.
Flash was more than just shocked of what was trending right now, and also in a bit- no, scratch that- a LOT of disbelief—No way in hell did he ever believe Peter Parker could ace being a stunning model. And thankfully—his shock saved Peter from more future embarrassment as he seemed to leave him alone the whole day.
MJ, of course, didn’t let it go, along with Ned. “So,” she said at lunch, sliding her phone across the table. It was yet another video edit of Peter in the tux, set to a romantic ballad, “When were you going to tell us you were living a double triple life as a model?”
Peter dropped his head on the table. “Kill me.”
Ned patted his back. “Honestly, dude? You should embrace it. You look amazing. If Spider-Man doesn’t work out—boom! Runway career.”
“I’m never going to a Stark gala again..” Peter mumbled into his tray.
Back at the tower, though, Tony was thriving on the chaos. Every time someone mentioned “the mystery model” he’d smirk and say, “Oh, you mean my intern?” like it was the funniest thing in the world—because, HELL, it actually was!
Eventually, even Pepper had to put her foot down. “Tony, stop encouraging it. He’s mortified.”
Tony leaned back in his chair, grinning. “What? I’m proud. Kid steps into a suit and suddenly he’s stealing headlines from me. That takes talent.”
Peter, face red, muttered, “It’s not talent. It’s just embarrassing.”
But he couldn’t ignore the tiny smile tugging at his lips.
If Peter thought the hype would calm down after a week, he was tragically wrong.
By then, the internet had crowned him: “Stark’s Intern,” “The Mystery Model,” and, Tony’s least favorite, “Better-Dressed Stark.” to which Peter actually likes.. just to spite Mr. Stark.
Every time Peter opened social media, there was something new—fanart, fancams, threads analyzing every detail of his tux. Someone had even zoomed in on his cufflinks and written a three-paragraph essay about how they “symbolized understated elegance.”
Peter had no idea what that meant, he literally just wore a simple clothing. But the comments—all of them were so chaotic! It’s like the whole internet was freaking out over him—even though that kind of felt like it actually is.
Peter’s #1 Fan @parkeriluvyou1 · 34m
GUYS PETER LOOKS SO MUCH MORE ADORABLE WITHOUT THE TUX LOOKKK [insert a picture of Peter that was from his own Instagram account]
#StarkGalaIntern #PeterParker #MysteryStarkModel #StarkIndustries
Underoospidey @underoospidey · 23m
Replied to @parkeriluvyou1
WHERED U GET THIS OM??? SOURCE PLZ 🙏🙏
Scott !! (hawkeye real) @eyehawksbarton · 16m
Replied to @underoospidey
It’s in Peter’s Instagram @peterfreakingparkerz theres tons of more pictures of him there lmao
DREAD @dreadmoor · 12m
[insert edit video of Peter]
#StarkGalaIntern #PeterParker #MysteryStarkModel #Edit
Harley Keener @pepperony · Now
Replied to @dreadmoor
nah lowkey he IS kind of cute lmao #StarkGalaIntern #PeterParker
Peter Pecan Parker @st4rkravinghazelnuts · Now
Replied to @pepperony
KIND OF??? also btw love the username #Pepperony
Somehow, his rabid fans found out all his socials—maybe he shouldn’t have put his name under all his socials.. they’re all exploding
Tony, on the other hand, was suffering.
“Unbelievable.” he muttered, scrolling through headlines in the lab. “‘Stark Gala: Billionaire Genius Outshined By Intern’? Outshined? By you?” He gestured at Peter, who was hunched over soldering wires, trying to pretend he didn’t hear.
“It’s not my fault,” Peter said, voice muffled by his focus.
“Not your—kid, I’ve spent decades building an empire, saving the world, and somehow you fix your bowtie on camera once and suddenly you’re GQ’s new golden boy? How is that fair?”
Pepper’s voice floated in from the doorway. “It’s more than fair. He looked incredible. People noticed. Maybe you should be happy for him.”
Tony shot her a look. “Pep, you’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am,” she said sweetly. “But facts are facts. Peter stole the spotlight.”
Peter tried very hard not to smile.
Things escalated fast. Fashion blogs began speculating about his “next appearance.” A fan account with half a million followers popped up overnight, posting every candid picture of him they could find. And then came the kicker:
Someone started a petition titled “Put Peter Parker on the Cover of Vogue.”
Just great.
Peter found out in class when MJ slid the petition under his nose with a deadpan expression. “Sign it, Parker.”
He nearly fell out of his chair. “What—? No—! This is insane!”
“Thirty thousand people disagree,” MJ said. “Also, your cheekbones are apparently a cultural reset.”
“Cheekbones?!”
“Cheekbones of all things, yeah.”
Back at the tower, Tony paced the room like a man betrayed. “Cover of Vogue. Vogue! I’ve been on the cover of Time, I’ve been called Man of the Year, and suddenly the world decides my intern belongs in high fashion?”
“Technically,” Pepper said, sipping her coffee, “they’re right. He pulls it off better than you.”
Tony looked personally wounded. “Pepper. Et tu?”
Peter buried his face in his hands. “Can we please just pretend this isn’t happening?”
But it was impossible to ignore. At the next Stark press conference, half the questions weren’t about Stark tech at all—they were about Peter.
“Will Peter Parker be attending future events?”
“Is he open to partnerships with designers?”
“Does he plan to model full-time, or is he sticking to science?”
Tony slammed his hands on the podium. “He’s fifteen! He does homework! Stop trying to poach my intern!”
Peter, standing off to the side, wanted to sink into the floor.
Of course, the internet clipped that exact moment—Tony Stark, billionaire genius, ranting about keeping Peter as his intern. The clip trended for days with captions like: “Tony Stark jealous of his own protégé???”
Pepper just shook her head with a smile. “Face it, Tony. He’s gone viral. The world’s not letting go.”
Tony groaned. “Fine. But if Vogue actually calls, I’m negotiating the contract. No intern of mine works the runway without Stark-level royalties.”
Peter’s muffled voice rose from behind his hands. “I’m not a model!”
The internet, however, had already decided otherwise.