𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 | WinterSpider | [𝟐] ✔

𝐗𝐕𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

КОНФЕРЕНЦИЯ

PETER PULLED ON A SWEATSHIRT AND SOME BLACK JEANS. He had just taken a small nap and used some concealer to hide that he wasn't taking care of himself. He did not do it for the Avengers, he did it to keep Hydra from seeing how much of a mess he was at the moment. He made his way downstairs. All of the Avengers were dressed a lot nicer than him. They all had really nice dresses or suits on. 

"Yeah, not happening," Peter said as he looked Steve up and down. Steve rolled his eyes but left him alone. Peter put on the glasses he made to put a glare on his face in front of the camera. He tapped the side of them. He knew Hydra would figure it out, but the average person would just get annoyed. It would keep people from speaking out about seeing him in Russia if he ever went back, or calling him out on his lies about the car accident. 

They walked through some double doors to reveal a room full of people and a platform. Peter used to hate the idea of the press conferences when he was a kid. He just hated getting in front of a lot of people because he knew from experience that one mistake could make you a meme for years, but now he couldn't care less. 

"Everyone, I would like to reintroduce you to our son, Peter Stark-Rogers," Tony said as he held out an arm that Peter reluctantly walked up to. Tony hugged him tightly and Peter purposefully made his discomfort visible unlike usual when he hid it away. Steve smiled before he and Tony took a step back and stood against the wall.

Peter looked out to the room which was buzzing with anticipation, "Damn, it has been a while since I have done this," Peter let out a breathy laugh which was followed by the room of reporters laughing with him, "I was in a car accident when I was fifteen, and it messed me up. I left the country and healed. Now, I am back and everything seems to be going good," Peter said.

"Sampson, make the pizza in funky town," Peter said in Russian. He knew if Flash was watching, he would get the message, "Now ask your questions," Peter said which he would soon regret. The room roared with millions of questions all at the same time, three of which coming from the same reporter, "Woah, one question at a time," Peter said.

"Mr. Stark-Rogers, how old are you?"

"Twenty-five."

"How long have you been in New York?"