Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Compound was quiet.

Too quiet, Natasha thought, sipping coffee in the lounge. The kind of quiet that meant something weird was about to happen. With this much spies, super-soldiers, and egos under one roof, normal was never an option.

Then the elevator dinged.

She didn’t bother turning around, she knew the sound of Stark’s gait. Confident, too loud. But there was another set of footsteps with him. Quieter, lighter.

And then, talking.

"—so if I recalibrate the output coils, it should reduce the heat by at least 20%, right?"

“Or blow up the eastern half of the lab,” Tony replied dryly. “Which is, y'know, less ideal.”

Natasha blinked.

A kid. Talking engineering. Fast. And, was that a backpack with pins clinking on it?

She turned her head just slightly, just enough to see them pass. The boy was about fifteen, maybe sixteen. Messy brown curls, baggy hoodie, a science pun shirt underneath.

Tony handed him a tablet without looking. The kid caught it one-handed, like it was muscle memory.

Natasha tilted her head.

Same coloring. Same sarcasm. Same absolute disregard for social volume. She watched Tony argue over the lab schedule while the kid gestured dramatically with a spoon he’d stolen from the kitchen.

Her brain, trained in patterns and deception, clicked through a thousand probabilities.

She stood, walked to the hall, leaned on the wall casually as they passed again.

"intern?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Tony gave her a half-smile. “Something like that.”

The kid gave her a shy little wave. “Hi, ma’am.”

Ma’am . Adorable.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed just slightly. She stared at him a little too long. The kid squirmed.

Tony noticed, of course. “Don’t interrogate him. He’s fragile.”

“I’m not fragile,” the kid muttered, ears turning pink.

“Emotionally,” Tony added, sipping his coffee.

They disappeared into the workshop. Natasha waited a beat before walking back to the kitchen.

Steve walking in, reading the newspaper like an old man he is. A glass of water in other hand

She poured herself a new cup of coffee, paused, then said, “Stark has a kid.”

Steve blinked. “What?”

“He brought a teenager in this morning. Looks like him. Talks like him. Smells like motor oil.”

Steve stared blankly.

“I think he cloned himself,” Natasha added casually.

Steve choked on his water.

Nat smirked, took a sip, and walked away.

Chapter Text

Steve had a lot of unbelievable things in his life.

Aliens, Magic hammers, his dead best friend being alive, crazy things happened to the point he will believe if theres an apocalypse in the next second.

But Tony Stark having a kid?
Nope. That had to be a joke.

Natasha didn’t even blink when she said it. Just sipped her coffee and walked off like she’d told him the sky was blue.

Steve had stood there, holding his glass of water, absolutely baffled.

Tony Stark. A kid.

When? Who?

And more importantly, how?

Steve told himself not to obsess about it. He can't.

He started watching Tony more carefully the next 2 days. The man had been unusually calm lately. Less snappy. He even smiled at Sam snarky comment once, which should’ve been a red flag. But no sight of the said boy.

Then it happened.

Curiosity got the better of him so he wandered to the lab.

Tony was always in there, doing whatever it was that counted as genius level tinkering. If the mystery kid was real, he’d probably be there too.

Sure enough, the doors were open. Voices floated out.

Not just one.

“Okay, but if I reroute the power core through the stabilizer first, it’ll balance the charge—”

“and blow out every backup line in the floor,” Tony cut in. “Which would be impressive, but also deeply annoying.”

Steve paused in the hallway.

A teenager stood in the middle of the lab, gesturing at a holographic interface like it was second nature. Wires, open panels, sparks and none of it seemed to phase him.

Tony was right beside him, sleeves rolled up, coffee in hand, throwing in commentary like they were equals.

The kid turned slightly, revealing a mess of brown curls and a shirt that said “it will be fun.”

Steve cleared his throat.

The conversation stopped. Both Tony and the kid turned to him at the same time.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “You lost, Cap?”

Steve glanced at the teen, then back at Tony. “I didn’t know you had company.”

Tony took a sip of coffee. “I don’t. This is Peter.”

Peter gave a polite smile. “Hi. You’re Captain America.”

Steve nodded slowly. “helo peter”

Steve looked between them look unsure what to do.

They had the same exact smirk.
That shared, smug confidence that came with knowing they were the smartest people in the room.
The kind of ease that didn’t just happen. It was built. Grown.

“How long have you two…?” he started.

“a year, well almost two,” Tony said casually.

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. He looked around the lab. Peter’s backpack on the counter, a second coffee mug, blueprints with two different styles of handwriting.

“You live here?” he asked Peter.

Peter shrugged. “Sometimes. Not officially. I mean, I have my own place, but Mr. Stark says I leave too much junk behind so I kind of have a corner now. It’s fine.”

Tony didn’t argue.

Peter grinned.

Steve’s brain stalled. “You have a kid” Steve now look at Tony. More like a statement than a question

Tony sipped his coffee. “No.”

Steve frowned. “But—” his hand pointed at Peter.

“That brat's not my kid.”

Steve folded his arms. “You let him live here. You bicker like family. He use your lab”

Tony smirked. “So does Bruce. What’s your point?”

Steve sighed through his nose.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Would it really be that weird?”

Steve paused.

That was the part that stuck.
Would it be weird?

Because as strange as it sounded, watching the two of them in the same room had felt… right. Like a puzzle piece he didn’t realize was missing.

He didn’t answer Tony’s question. Just walked out of the room, muttering.

“I need a drink”

Chapter Text

Sam had been back at the Compound for all of three days, and he was already regretting that there's no mission.

Steve was brooding again, Natasha kept smirking at him like she knew something he didn’t, and Tony.

Tony was suspiciously calm.

Which, in Sam’s experience, meant something was up.

And that “something” made itself known at exactly 2:17 PM on a Thursday, when Sam walked into the hangar to check on the Quinjet only to hear rapid fire talking coming from under the jet’s open wing.

“—so if you stabilize the repulsor lift here and recalibrate the directional flow, it won’t drift left during takeoff. I mean, it’ll still drift, but like, less murdery.”

Sam paused.

There was a kid crouched beside the landing gear, elbow deep in the Quinjet’s wiring.

“Whoa, whoa hey!” Sam jogged over. “What the hell are you doing?”

The kid blinked up at him. “Fixing it?”

“Who told you to fix it?”

“Uh, Mr. Stark? He said the jet was acting up, and I thought I’d—”

“Wait.” Sam narrowed his eyes. “Stark let you touch the Quinjet?”

“Yeah.” The kid grinned. “Well, I didn’t ask, technically, but he didn’t say no.”

Sam squinted. “Okay, hold up. Who are you?”

“Oh, right. I'm Peter. Peter Parker” He stuck out a hand. “Hi.”

Sam shook it slowly. “Sam.”

“Falcon. I know. You’re awesome, by the way.”

Sam tried not to smile. He failed a little.

Peter pointed to the open panel. “This thing’s ancient. It’s got like three different systems arguing with each other. I mean, it flies, but if I’m right, one of the backup stabilizers is leaking current like crazy—”

“Okay, okay, slow down, Doc Brown,” Sam interrupted, holding up a hand. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen, well not for another 2 months but you know”

Sam blinked. “So basically sixteen and already back talking a $500 million aircraft like it’s a school project.”

Peter tilted his head. “Is that not normal?”

Sam muttered under his breath, “What a Stark”

Peter blinked. “What?”

“Nothing.”

Before Peter could say more, Tony’s voice echoed across the hangar.

“Hey! Dont you bother him, If he blows anything up it will be on your insurance, Wilson.”

Sam turned. “This yours?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘yours.’”

Peter shouted, “Love you too, Mr. Stark!”

Tony didn’t even flinch. Just gave a lazy two-finger salute and walked off to the lab.

Sam turned back to Peter.

“You’re his kid, aren’t you?”

Peter choked. “What?! No! I mean—no? No. Not biologically”

Sam crossed his arms. “You sure about that? Because I’ve seen Stark do exactly what you just did, and you even have few same features. It’s freaky.”

Peter looked like he was buffering.

Sam studied him for a moment. Too smart and too much chaos for one teenager.

“Okay,” Sam said slowly, “if you’re not his kid… you sure you’re not some kind of lab grown Stark robot?”

Peter stared.

“…shouldn't I know if I was?”

Sam laughed. Loud and full. “Alright, kid. You’re alright.”

He helped Peter lower the access panel and patted his back.

“But if you do turn out to be part robot, just gimme a heads up before another omnic crisis, yeah?”

Peter grinned. “Deal.”

Chapter Text

Clint didn’t plan on showing up at the Compound that morning.

He’d been off-grid for a while, doing the “retired dad” thing. Teaching Lila how to properly shoot a Nerf dart, fixing fences, baking cookies that somehow caught fire before going in the oven. You know, peaceful stuff.

But then Nat texted him, “Tony has a kid.”

No explanation. No follow-up. Just chaos bait.

So, obviously, Clint showed up the next day at 6:02 AM with a bag of jerky and a lot of questions.

He didn’t expect anyone else to be awake.

Which is why he was surprised to hear soft footsteps in the kitchen.

Clint crept forward quietly, old habits die hard and peeked in.

A teenager was halfway into the pantry. Like, literally halfway. One foot off the ground, stretching to reach something on the top shelf, mumbling under his breath.

“Come on, come on… just one box of Frosted Flakes, that’s all I ask”

He had messy hair, a wrinkled T-shirt, and looked like he hadn’t slept in two days.

Very Stark-like, in an “I survive on caffeine and bad decisions” kind of way.

The kid hopped down with a triumphant “Ha!” and a box of cereal, only to freeze when he saw Clint standing there, look at him rather amused and alarm.

"Hi,” the kid said.

“Morning,” Clint replied slowly. “You live here?”

“Sort of?”

“You know this is a private building, right?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark said I could have breakfast. So technically”

Clint walk closer to him. “What’s your name?”

“um..Peter, sir."

“Right. So you’re the Tony’s kid.”

Peter nearly dropped the cereal. “WHAT?! No! I mean, not really! I mean, I’m not! I mean, he’s just—”

Clint raised a hand. “Relax, kid. I’m not here to interrogate you. Just making sure you’re not a Hydra pancake thief or something.”

Peter laughed nervously. “I don’t even like pancakes that much.”

Clint walked over, grabbed a mug, poured himself some coffee, and sat on the counter like it was any other Tuesday.

He watched Peter fumble with the cereal box for a moment before asking, “So. You call him ‘Dad,’ or are we still in the awkward nickname phase?”

Peter turned bright red. “I.. I call him ‘Mr. Stark.’”

Clint whistled low. “why so formal?”

Peter looked down "Just because.."

Clint sipped his coffee and stared at the box of cereal. “You know, you’ve got his eyes.”

Peter peeked out. “What?”

“His eyes. And the little chaos vibe thing.”

Peter groaned into his cereal bowl. “I swear I’m not his kid."

“Mmhm.” Clint nodded, unconvinced. “That’s exactly what a secret Stark would say.”

Peter looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.

Clint hopped off the counter, ruffled the kid’s hair as he passed, and said, “You’re alright, Peter.”

Peter blinked. “Thank, uh... sir?”

“Uncle Clint,” he called over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, It’s a vibe thing. You’ll get used to it.”

Chapter Text

Wanda had only been back at the Compound for ten minutes when she heard it.

She hadn’t even dropped off her bags yet. One second she was stepping out of the elevator with Vision beside her, sun-warmed and relaxed from a week away, and the next, she heard Clint whisper hissing.

“I’m telling you, he’s got the hair. You don’t inherit that kind of chaos, you build it.”

“I just want to know when Stark found time to have a kid,” Sam muttered. “Did he clone himself in a panic? Build one in a lab?”

Natasha’s voice, deadpan “Peter’s not a clone, he eats too many carbs to be one"

Wanda froze mid-step.

“…Did I miss something?” she asked.

All heads turned toward her like kids caught talking about the teacher behind their back.

“Oh,” Clint said brightly. “You’re back!”

“Yes,” she said slowly, eyeing each of them. “And I would like to know who this ‘Peter’ is, and why half of you are whispering like he’s an international scandal.”

Nat just smirked. “Ask Vision.”

Wanda turned.

Vision, of course didn’t look even slightly surprised.

“You knew?” she asked.

“I’ve assisted him a few times in the lab,” Vision replied calmly. “He’s intelligent, polite, and prone to overexplaining things, you’d like him.”

“You knew Tony had a son?”

“He’s not technically Tony's son,” Vision replied. “Though the similarities are… striking.”

Wanda blinked, “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I assumed,” Vision said, “you’d rather meet him yourself.”

---

30 minutes later, she found herself in one of the smaller labs, just in time to see the so called Peter sitting cross legged on the floor with a half assembled drone in his lap, talking to it like it was a misbehaving puppy.

“Okay, but if you could stop rebooting every time I blink at you, that would be amazing. I have witnesses this time, buddy. Don’t make me look bad.”

Wanda stepped inside quietly, and Vision gave her a knowing look from across the room.

Peter looked up.

And froze.

“Oh!” he scrambled to his feet, nearly knocking over a screwdriver tray. “Hi! Sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was coming in. Mr Stark said I could use this space while he fixed the ventilation on the upper deck. There’s uh, there's dust involved, and also I may have accidentally fried a vent fan but only a little, so—”

“You’re Peter,” Wanda said gently.

He nodded. “Yes, That is me. Definitely.”

She looked him over.

Not what she expected.

He had the Stark energy, yes. The quick hands, the bouncing thoughts, the half controlled chaos of someone thinking faster than he could speak. But there was something softer around the edges. Something warmer.

Less shield. More heart.

“You don’t look like him,” she said.

Peter blinked. “Who? Mr. Stark?”

“Yes.”

He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “Yeah, I mean. I don’t think anyone looks like him. Except maybe in a mirror.”

“You’re not like him either,” Wanda said.

Peter opened his mouth, then stopped. “umm, Sorry?”

“It’s not a bad thing,” she said with a small smile. “You’re… quite gentler.”

Peter blinked rapidly “Thank you?”

Wanda look around the room, glancing at the blueprints he’d scattered across the floor. Half-labeled, some crumpled, all very Stark.

But the handwriting? That was Peter’s.

“He trusts you,” Wanda said more in fact.

Peter looked down. “I trust him”

She watched him for another moment. Watched the way he tugged his sleeve over his hand, how he tapped the edge of a wrench when he was thinking.

“I expected another Tony” she said quietly. “Loud, sharp, a little exhausting.”

Peter laughed. “He is exhausting sometimes”

“But you’re not,” she added.

He flushed.

Wanda turned and left the room, "have a good day".

She catch Vision’s amused expression on the way out.

“You like him,” he replied.

Wanda didn’t deny it.

Chapter Text

Bucky didn’t care.

Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

The second the whispers of "Tony has kid" started, Bucky had rolled his eyes and tuned it out.

Didn’t matter for him, not his problem.

Stark could do whatever he wanted. Clone himself, adopt a gremlin, build a sarcastic AI in boy form. That man can do whatever he wish.

Even if turn out that boy really is his son, so what? Its not like he can stop him using his lower body.

But then Steve started acting weird.

And Natasha kept giving him looks.

And Sam? Sam hadn’t stopped smirking in two days.

That’s what got him. The smirking. That smug little “I know something you don’t” expression that made Bucky want to shove him in the pool.

So he went looking.

Not because he cared, he just want to prove everyone was being dramatic.

He found the kid in the hallway early sunday morning.

Well. The kid found him, technically. Nearly ran into him at full speed while speed-walking around the corner, arms full of tangled wires and what looked like a half finished repulsor.

Peter froze.

Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“…Hi,” the kid said, a little breathless. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there. I was trying to fix.. well, it doesn’t matter. You’re Mr, Barnes, right?”

Bucky blinked. “Bucky, Yeah.”

“I’m Peter.” He shifted the wires in his arms and offered a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Bucky didn’t take it right away. He was still waiting for the flinch. The wide eyed stare. The awkward shuffle of someone realizing they were alone in a hallway with the ex Winter Soldier.

Peter didn’t do any of that.

He just smiled, hand still outstretched, until Bucky finally gave in and shook it.

His hand was warm.

Too warm, maybe. Bucky wasn’t used to that.

“I heard about you,” Peter said.

“Yeah, well. Most people have.”

“No, I mean I heard the good stuff,” Peter added quickly. “From Mr. Stark. And Mr. Steve, Mostly Mr. Steve, actually. But Tony said, uh... he said you were stubborn, In a good way. And kinda grumpy.”

Bucky squinted. “He said that?”

Peter nodded. “Also that you’d probably hate me on sight.”

“…Not wrong.”

Peter grinned.

Bucky didn’t know what to do with that.

The kid didn’t even blink when he looked at his arm. Just looked him straight in the eye like he wasn’t some living scarily big assassin.

“You’re not scared of me,” Bucky said finally.

Peter shrugged. “Why would I be?”

That… shut him up.

Peter adjusted the wires in his arms and glanced toward the workshop door.

“I should probably finish this before Mr. Stark realizes I stole his backup core,” he said casually.

“You stole from him?”

“Borrowed, temporarily. With intent to return, probably.”

Bucky stared.

Peter smiled again. “You wanna come see? I’m rebuilding the prototype drone. I promise not to blow anything up. This time.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Just kept walking, talking the whole way.

Bucky followed. He wasn’t sure why.

He told himself it was to keep the kid from shorting out the building.

But the truth?

The truth was, for the first time in a long time… someone looked at him like he wasn’t broken.

And maybe he wanted to keep that feeling around a little longer.

Chapter Text

It started with Clint giving him that look over the breakfast table.

The one that usually meant “I know something you don’t,” which was always hilarious considering Tony had the Compound cameras synced to his watch, and a freaking AI run the place.

“Out with it, Barton,” Tony said, stabbing his eggs. “You’re hovering. You’re never this quiet unless you’re about to steal something or prank one of us”

Clint grinned “Nothing, just thinking.”

“That sounds even more dangerous.”

Across the table, Sam smirked. “So when were you gonna tell us, Stark?”

Tony didn’t look up. “About what? That you sing in the shower? Newsflash Wilson, the compound has vents.”

Steve cleared his throat “About Peter.”

Tony froze.

There it was.

He didn’t even have to look up to feel the smug aura coming off all of them in waves. Clint, Sam, and Steve.

Wanda, sipping tea like she wasn’t in on it. Even Bucky was leaning against the fridge like he wasn’t mentally assembling a conspiracy board titled “Stark’s Secret Offspring.”

Tony leaned back in his chair, popped a grape in his mouth, and said, “Okay, I’ll bite. What exactly do you think is happening here?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Clint said, pointing a fork at him. “He lives here, he wears your shirts, he built a self flying mini jet with your face on it”

“Also he yells at the drones like you do,” Sam added. “Exactly like you do.”

“It’s freaky,” Steve confirmed.

Tony blinked, mouth open slightly “Okay, first of all, this is officially the weirdest Avengers team meeting I’ve ever been part of. And I once saw Hulk wear a tutu for a bet.”

“Just admit it,” Natasha said coolly. “You built a teenager.”

Tony sighed dramatically. “God, not you too.”

Wanda gave him a calm look. “You care about him. Deeply”

“Well, sure,” Tony muttered. “He keeps stealing my drones”

They all just stared.

Tony stared back.

And then, finally, he rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air.

“Okay, fine. Yes i care. Happy now?”

Peter chose that exact moment to wander in, an oversized shirt, hair a disaster, holding a half eaten apple and walking like a zombie with only one eyes open.

He paused at the sight of the entire table watching him.

“…Did I miss something?”

Tony stood, slung an arm around his shoulders casually, and turned back to the group with a smirk.

“Turns out Tony Stark doesn’t just build suits,” he said smugly. “He builds teenagers too.”

Peter froze. “what?!”

Sam cackled. Clint almost fell out of his chair.

Tony grinned wider. “Too late, kid. You’re in it now. You’ve got the Stark stamp. Trademark pending.”

Peter’s face turned red. “I didn’t agree to this!”

“You did by touching my toolbox and finishing my equations, which in this household counts as a blood pact,” Tony said matter of factly. “Now eat something green, and don’t touch the drone with the red paint. I rigged it to scream.”

Peter groaned into his shirt and slumped into a chair next to Steve.

Steve passed him a glass of orange juice without a word.

Peter blinked. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, kid.”

Clint leaned over to Natasha. “He totally a stark”

Natasha smirked. “Told you.”

Tony sat back down, sipping his coffee with a satisfied sigh.

The chaos continued. Peter started arguing with Bucky about who had the scarier poker face. Clint bet them twenty bucks he’d win. Sam tried to start a group vote on “who's going to be the better mentor: Steve or Tony.” Tony threw a spoon at him.

And through all of it, Tony just sat there, watching.

One hand on his mug.

The other lightly drumming on the table in rhythm with Peter’s voice.

He didn’t say it out loud, of course.

But he thought it.

Yeah. I built something better than a suit this time.