My Book Of Marvel Fluff and Oneshots

Peter Made Cookies

      Steve walked into the kitchen. He had just had an extremely long night of getting cleared after Civil War and excruciatingly strange airport customs. America was so much more straightforward in the 1940s.

      Suddenly, he stopped. Steve rubbed his eyes, making sure he wasn't dreaming or hallucinating. Tony Stark was sitting on the kitchen counter drinking his morning coffee, (not a surprise), and what looked to be a fourteen-year-old kid sat cross-legged. On the ceiling. Pouring tea into a mug. Upside down.

      Bucky walked in behind Steve, along with most of Team Cap (for story convenience reasons). "Uhhh, Stark?" Wanda asked hesitantly. "Why is there a child on your ceiling?"

      Both the kid and Tony looked up. "Oh, him. He's my kid. His name is Peter."

      'Peter' grinned at them. "I'm Peter." He pushed himself up from the floor (ceiling) he was sitting on and did a fluid triple backflip down with a perfect landing, somehow managing to not spill his tea.

      "Since when do you have a kid?" Steve asked.

      Peter smiled again. "Um, it's an honor to meet you, Mr. Captian America sir. And Miss Maximoff. And Mr. Barnes. And Mr. Wilson. And Mr. Barton and Mr. Lang." 

      Tony facepalmed. "Kid, you're too polite. Eventually, you're going to be polite at the wrong time and get shot."

      "Already have. Three times."

      The look on Steve's face was priceless. Bucky whispered, "Oh god, not another one."

      Peter clapped. "Anyways, I just wanted to say how honored I am to meet you." His carefree grin suddenly became dark and creepy, so much so that even Bucky took a step back. "Also, if you ever hurt my dad ever again I will punch you so hard that it'll take you another century to wake up." His grin did another 360. "Anyways, I made cookies!"