The team learns about Peter's stress baking fairly quickly after he moves into the tower.
"Why does this place smell like cookies?" Tony asks suspiciously, "Pepper put an end to homemade care packages after that Cap incident."
Steve protests from the dining table, "Hey, that fan seemed totally normal. Y'know in my generation you do not mess with baked goods, that's sacred."
Natasha pats his back comfortingly as she joins the conversation.
"They came from the kid. They're actually pretty good, here."
Nat hands a still-warm cookie to Tony, who bites it curiously.
"Damn, it melts in my mouth like buttery ambrosia and still has a perfect crunch around the edges. Is that a nutty aftertaste?"
"Yes!" Peter yells from the other room, a clatter sounding before his head pokes around the wall, oven mitts still attached to his hands.
"I brown the butter, it really deepens the flavour!"
"Good on you kid. What's the occasion?"
Peter stutters, "uhhhh, no occasion. I just like cookies!"
He disappears around the corner again, and Tony sends a confused glance towards his teammates.
Steve shrugs his shoulders, mouth still full of cookie, and Natasha sends him an arched brow. Tony isn't sure what that means, but feels intimidated enough to exit the room anyway.
* * *
The baking lasts the rest of the week, until Peter comes home yelling, "I aced my calculus midterm!!!" Running out of the elevator with a stapled set of papers in his hand.
"So no more baking?" Nat asks neutrally.
"Nope! Woohoo!"
Just like that the kid is gone, jumping down the hall towards his bedroom.
Tony looks at Nat quizzically.
"It was midterm week. He baked 3 dozen cookies, 2 types of muffins, and a cheesecake."
"So he stress bakes?"
"He stress bakes."
* * *
It becomes a "thing" in the tower.
Sam eats toast from freshly baked bread one morning while watching Bruce quiz Peter on his upcoming AP history test. Each slice is cut, toasted, and buttered to perfection by Peter while he explains sectionalism in the 20th century.
* * *
Bucky grates carrots while Peter mixes a bowl of dry ingredients furiously, the boy mumbling to himself non-stop.
"Has he gone insane?" Clint asks from the doorway.
"Spanish oral exam," Bucky replies.
"Ay caramba."
"Tal vez pueda sobornar a mi maestra con glaseado de queso crema..." Peter starts mumbling. (Maybe I can bribe my teacher with cream cheese frosting...)
Bucky and Clint share a concerned look.
Clint approaches the boy, "put down the spatula Pete, let's talk about this."
Peter looks up in alarm.
"In English! Just English!"
* * *
"What's up kid? It's spring break, what could you possibly be stressing about."
Today Tony walks into a full kitchen; Wanda, Natasha, and Pepper are occupying the space while Peter pours something creamy into a metal bowl.
"He's asking MJ out tonight, so he's making cookies and cream ice cream in case it goes wrong." Natasha crosses her arms when she replies to him, eyes focused on Peter's mixing.
"Does ice cream even count as stress baking? The very meaning of 'bake' is to put under heat. But I suppose it does feel wrong to call it cooking."
Peter looks up, his brown eyes large and sad like a baby cow, "I still baked the cookies from scratch."
"Yeah he's a real Nara Smith!" Wanda adds enthusiastically.
"Oookay... I'll pretend I know what that means. And since when do we have an ice cream maker?" Tony points to the fancy hardware out on the kitchen counter.
"Oh, I got that for him. We lacked a lot of the tools for basic baking recipes," Pepper informs him.
Tony ponders how ice cream machines count as a basic baking tool, and decides not to argue with three powerful women and their favourite lovesick teenager.
Peter picks up his bowl and moves it into the freezer, clearing away a couple frozen pizzas and a bag of peas.
"Should I even bother with the cones?" Peter asks with a pout.
"Pete she's gonna say yes! Also if you're wallowing in misery with a tub of ice cream we still want our cones so we can emotionally support you with a crunchy treat," Wanda says with a supportive smile.
The others nod along.
"You're right!" Peter agrees before turning around and grabbing an honest-to-god waffle cone maker, with the cone shaping kit to boot.
"Why..." Tony begins to protest, "y'know what, I don't care. Let me know how it goes kid."
The man is ignored as he moves through the kitchen to grab a banana, the women coaching Peter on his manners, flirting, and first date ideas as he exits the room.
* * *
Thor hums around the delicious treat.
"Mmm. You know young Peter, you could have a shop for your creations. Is there a Stark Industries for baked goods?" Thor asks the young lad, crumbs falling from his mouth as he chews the cookie bar.
"I didn't invent the blondie Thor. I was just trying to explain what it is, a cookie brownie! I did decorate them all by myself though," he says with a satisfied grin.
"Ah yes," Thor lifts up another blondie by the pretzel stick Peter put in the squares, attached with a bit of melted chocolate so they're shaped like Mjolnir, "now you are all worthy of the hammer. Ha! This is funny, I'm sure the others will find your talents equally amusing."
Peter picks up his own mini-Mjolnjr and waves it around, "it is I, son of Odin. Don't worry puny Midgardians, I will protect you with my mighty hammer and beautiful hair!"
Thor laughs thunderously at the impression, clapping.
Bruce walks into the room, enticed by the laughter.
"Ah! My friend, Peter has made edible Mjolnirs so you, too, may be worthy. It's delicious and hilarious. Imagine Banner wielding my hammer, ha! Ridiculous," Thor is all too amused by the situation.
Bruce gives Peter an offended look as Thor continues laughing with himself, the younger just shrugging. Bruce takes one of the treats anyways, pointedly not holding it by the pretzel stick.
"Y'know Pete, have you ever considered opening a bakery? You are quite talented. I think the Avengers alone would keep you in business," Bruce asks politely.
"Well I only like to bake when I'm stressed. That wouldn't be a very stable business model," Peter points out.
"True. Although running a business can be quite stressful, so maybe you'd have a continuous supply?"
"Hm. Efficient and unhealthy," Peter nods like it's the perfect plan.
"Wow you really are Stark's intern."
Thor bursts out into another bout of raucous laughter.
"Imagine Stark wielding my dessert hammer," Thor barely gets the words out, "Stark being worthy-AH HAHA."
Bruce and Peter share a look of wide-eyed alarm before joining in on the laughter.
They all share the moment before Bruce straightens up a bit to ask, "what are you even worried about anyways Peter?"
Peter wipes a tear from his eye, "I forgot to call Aunt May this morning like I always do and she only let me move here if I promised I wouldn't neglect her. So now I'm too scared to check my phone."
"I see," Bruce sympathizes.
"Yeah, baking is good for procrastinating. I pretend I'm being productive while also creating comfort food for after my breakdowns."
* * *
Tony steps into the dining room one afternoon to find Peter slicing apples while Steve sits across from him cutting intricate patterns into pie crust. There is an array of leaves and flowers set out on the flour-sprinkled table.
"So is the ornamentation necessary, or is Cap also developing a delicious self-soothing habit," Tony inquires.
"I was just talking to Peter about pie recipes from the 40s and he asked if I could help make his prettier," Steve smiles up at his companions, "it's actually a lot of fun, I can't say I've ever used food to make art before."
"He's a natural talent Mr. Stark!"
Tony agrees with the quirk of an eyebrow and cheeky sideways nod. He observes for a moment before asking something that's been bothering him recently.
"Pete, I gotta ask. Why baking? You inherited your Aunt's terrible cooking skills, and it's not like you're built for other domestic duties. Your room is a mess. What gives? How are you so... refined?"
Peter pauses his chopping to look up incredulously.
"It's science Mr. Stark. Baking is just chemistry! I'm great at chemistry," he says with a grin.
Tony thinks about it.
"Huh. I guess you're right. So, what has you stressed this time? Girl troubles? You get too good a grade in P.E. and Flash is suspicious? Decathlon competition?" Tony lists off some of his previous turmoils.
He hopes it's the decathalon again, those butter tarts were divine.
"Um. Can I finish my apple filling before I tell you? I'll lose motivation if you start yelling at me..." Peter says with a hopeful smile, strain lying underneath it.
Tony's eyes narrow.
"Okay so I maybe blew up your test tubes when trying to develop fire webs and Dum-E may have covered your entire lab in fire supression foam."
Tony's jaw clenches, "I'm gonna let you stew in fear for a bit longer because apple is my favourite - if this was pumpkin you'd already be squashed - but best believe I'm not done with you yet." Tony slowly takes a deep breath before pointing a finger at Peter. "Never change kid, never change."
Tony leaves, distinctly in the opposite direction of his lab, and Peter goes back to slicing apples, now with a genuine smile on his face.
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