1.
Peter is six the first time someone says it.
"What about your real parents?"
The offender is just another six-year-old boy, one of Peter's classmates. He hadn't necessarily been friends with the other boy, but they weren't unfriendly either. And the boy hadn't meant to be mean, he simply asked a question.
"What do you mean?" Peter asks, furrowing his eyebrows.
"You know, your real parents. Do you know who they are?"
"You mean my dads? Of course I know who they are," Peter says brightly. "My dad is Iron Man and my papa is Captain America. They're the best dads in the whole world."
"No, no, no," the boy laughs, shaking his head. "Your original parents. Your mom and dad."
"Oh," Peter breathes. "I don't know what happened to them."
Ever since he could remember, he knew he was adopted. His dads always told him so, but they also said that they didn't love him any less because of it. He believed them; it was impossible to believe they didn't love him. His papa always let him have an extra scoop of ice cream when Dad wasn't looking, and Dad sometimes let him play with his tools when Papa was away.
"That's really weird," the boy says, shrugging. "I think I would be curious. You could have brothers or sisters out there that you don't even know about!"
"Yeah, I guess so," Peter mumbles. Truthfully he didn't care. His Papa and Daddy loved him, and that was enough for him.
2.
He's nine the next time someone says something to him.
"Do you know why you were given up for adoption?"
This question irritates him, but he simply shrugs. He doesn't know, he's never thought to ask. In fact, he's pretty sure his dads don't even know, so it would be pointless to ask them about it.
Another kid jumps in. "Does it make you sad knowing you're adopted?" she asks.
"No," he says flatly, fixing her with a cool stare.
The first kid speaks up again. "Not even a little? You don't miss your real parents?"
"No," he says a little more forcefully, and wishes the teachers would call them back inside from recess already.
"Being adopted is special though," the girl says. "You have four parents who love you. Your real mom must have loved you a whole lot to give you up, don't you think?"
"I don't know!" Peter yells, crossing his arms. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."
3.
It seems grown-ups are prone to being ignorant too, though.
"You guys are saints," the lady behind the counter of the cafe says. Peter sees his Papa stiffen and his Dad's eyes narrow at the woman. He knows what's coming next, and his stomach knots itself in anticipation and makes him feel sick.
"What do you mean by that, exactly?" Dad says in that scary calm voice of his. Peter's been on the receiving end of it a fair few times himself, and it's never fun.
"Just that you two adopted him," the woman stutters, shocked at Tony's sudden coolness toward her. "I think it's wonderful that you rescued him."
"Rescued him?" Papa chokes out. "We didn't adopt Peter to rescue him, we adopted Peter because we wanted a child."
"Oh, no, I just meant I don't think I could do it," she says quickly. "I didn't mean to offend you."
"Daddy, can we go?" Peter says quietly. He doesn't want things to escalate even further and cause a scene.
"Hold on Peter," Tony says, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I want to get this straight first. Ma'am, what do you think you couldn't do?"
"Nothing, it's nothing," the woman says nervously. "I didn't mean anything by it, I swear. Here, have three free croissants for your trouble. Please, I didn't mean it."
His papa swings him up into his arms, even though he's much too big to be carried around by his dads anymore, and takes Tony's hand, leading him out of the small café. Peter simply curls his arms around his Papa's neck and holds himself close.
"We're never coming here ever again!" Tony shouts over his shoulder.
4.
At fourteen years old, Peter's heard his fair share of interesting comments, but he's pretty sure this one takes the cake.
"Oh. You're one of those."
He stares at the man hard and tries to figure out if he's joking or not. When it becomes clear to him that he's not, it's hard to contain his anger.
"One of those?" he asks, arching an eyebrow like he's seen his dad do.
"Yeah, you're an adopted kid." The man shakes his head and 'hmm's quietly. "It's such a shame."
"What is?" Peter challenges. He knows he shouldn't, knows he should walk away just like his dads taught him to do when people say ignorant things, but he's already let it get under his skin.
"I just think it's a shame they took you away from your family."
"My dads are my family," he growls, fists clenching. "They read me stories till I fell asleep and checked for monsters under my bed. My aunts and uncles love me just as much as my dads do. My family is the best family I could ask for."
"That's the other thing," the man said, shaking his head. "Not only did they take you away from your real family, but they didn't even let you go to a proper family with a mom and a dad. It's just not right."
Peter has to force himself not to hit the man. He's officially crossed the line as far as Peter's concerned, but hurting him wouldn't help anything. So instead of responding, peter simply turns on his heel and stomps away from the man.
5.
Peter thinks he's just about heard it all in his seventeen years. But yet again, he's proved wrong.
"Wait you're adopted? Oh my god, I'm so sorry."
This time he can't stop his immediate reaction from slipping out. "What are you apologizing for? Your ignorance?"
His classmate looks shocked but recovers fairly quickly. "Oh, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound rude."
"Wait, but you look so much like your dad," another girl nearby says. "You know, Tony Stark, that dad. You definitely have his eyes. And maybe his mouth too."
"That's literally impossible," Peter bites out, "seeing as genetically we're not related."
"But you can still look alike," the first girl smiles. "You do sort of look like him a little if you squint."
"Yeah, okay, you can look similar to someone," Peter says, knowing she's only trying to be helpful. "But I can't have 'his' eyes or mouth or hair or anything. You do at least understand that right?"
"Oh yeah, totally," the girls says, smiling at him. Peter doesn't believe her.
+1
"What are their names?" his Aunt Natasha asks. "I don't even need their addresses, I can find them. Won't be any problem at all."
"Aunt Tasha," Peter sighs, but he's smiling and shaking his head. "It's okay, I can handle them."
"Are you sure?" his Uncle Clint says. "We wouldn't be very good godparents if we didn't protect you."
"I'm sure," Peter beams at them and Clint throws an arm around his shoulders.
"Okay, but are you positive?" he asks mischievously. "Because I know the big guy has been itching to bash some skulls. All you have to do is just say the word."
"Yeah, and I'm sure my dads will love that," he snickers, thinking of their reactions.
"Your Aunt Tasha can take care of that, don't you worry about a thing. All you have to do is look innocent."
I know it's bee a while since I've posted anything, but this just sort of came to me and insisted on being written. I'm adopted myself, and some of these are actual things people have said to me in the past.