#i ran out of energy for the joke but please understand the scenario of images 2+3 Keeps Playing Out. pigeon has a team of 4 dudes working

[mostlyghostly66]

(Dudes with really strong worker solidarity voice) we can totally hide a dog in this military base. If we just believe in ourselves really hard

[skeeter-110]

Just Dropping in

Tony Stark was all alone. Which was fine, he knew that's how it was going to be when he purposely disappeared years ago. He was prepared to be alone once everything fell apart. What he wasn't prepared for, though, was a teen boy in red pajamas breaking into his apartment and bleeding out on his couch.

Remix of Apartment 43B by ironfamjam for the @irondadremix

Read on AO3

Tony was awake in a flash when he heard a loud crash and bang coming from his living room. He sat up in bed for a second, waiting and listening to try and figure out what the noise was.

It didn’t take long for him to hear footsteps shuffling around and for it to dawn on him that someone had broken into his apartment.

A thousand different thoughts began to run through his head as he scrambled out of bed; a thousand different scenarios of what truly could be happening.

Had someone found him? Were they here to kidnap and hold him for ransom? If they were they were going to be extremely disappointed when they realized that no one was going to actually pay to save Tony.

As quietly as he could, Tony grabbed the crowbar he kept in his toolbox - thankful that he forgot to put his toolbox back in his workshop - and began to creep down the hallway.

Tony was fully expecting to see a group of men trying to rob him of all he had, but what Tony wasn’t expecting was a body just laying there on his couch.

Carefully, Tony approached the person, holding the crowbar up in a defensive position just in case it was a trap and the person was just pretending so they could attack.

When he got closer though, it wasn’t hard to see what was wrong.

The Spider-Man that Tony has been seeing all over the news and internet - that Tony had been keeping recent tabs on - was lying there unconscious and bleeding out on his couch.

“Oh, shit.” Tony breathes out once the image clicks in his brain.

Tossing the crowbar to the side, Tony all but ran over to the vigilante’s side, looking him over to try and see what exactly was wrong. Although, the blood pooling around the guy’s leg and seeping into Tony’s couch was a big giveaway.

“Alright, guy, don’t punch me for this, but you need help and I can’t do that with your clothes in the way,” Tony mumbles as he turns the living room light on.

Spider-Man didn’t even stir as the light filtered through the room, which both settled and unsettled Tony; it settled him because at least he wasn’t going to have to strip this guy and fix him up while he was awake, but it also unsettled him because the guy could very well be more than just unconscious.

Slowly, in case he had a head injury, Tony took off Spider-Man’s mask - if you ever wanted to call it that - gasping a bit when he saw the man underneath. Or, rather, the boy.

“Ah, shit. Of course, he’s a child because why wouldn’t he be?” Tony curses before shaking his head to snap out of it.

Quickly and gently, Tony began to take the make-shift superhero suit off of the teen, stopping short when he got to the gear on the kid’s wrists. The scientist in him couldn’t help but look over the cartridges, noticing that they were now empty.

"Well, that explains the webbing. Somehow I don't know if it’s better knowing that stuff isn’t coming out of him or not.” Tony mumbles to himself as he continued to strip the vigilante, cringing when he got to the teen’s leg and saw that’s where the worst of it was coming from.

Tony got up and went into his bathroom, praying the kid would stay asleep while he grabbed his first aid kit. The last thing he needed was for the kid to wake up and freak out.

Tony was just thankful that he's had one too many late-night workshop accidents and knew exactly how to stitch someone up

“Stay asleep. Please, stay asleep.” Tony begs as he approaches Spider-man once again, hoping and praying the kid didn’t wake up while he was in the middle of putting him back together.

Tony continued to repeat those same words as he worked, thankful that whatever higher power that’s out there heard him and kept Spider-Man completely unconscious.

After checking the kid’s pulse and confirming that yes he was still alive and didn’t have any other life-threatening injuries, Tony pulled the throw blanket off the back of the couch and used it to cover Spider-man up.

Tony stood there for a bit, just staring and marveling at how young the vigilante really was. Tony quickly concluded that there was no way the hero knew what he was doing and that he might as well help him out in more ways than one.

Going to the bathroom, Tony began preparing a whole separate first-aid kit for the teen to take with him whenever he left. He made sure to put everything the kid could need, hoping that it would be enough in the future.

Looking at the time after he finished, Tony sighed and began heading back to his bedroom, figuring that he might as well get a few more hours of sleep before having to deal with what would inevitably be one of the most disastrous mornings of his life.

*   *   *

When he woke up, Tony actually almost forgot completely what had happened a few hours prior. Almost.

That bliss didn’t last long though because once he was fully awake, the memories began to flood through his mind.

Tony just groaned and threw his arm over his eyes, giving himself two more peaceful seconds before forcing himself out of bed to check on the body on his couch.

Sure enough, when he got out to the living room, Spider-man was still lying there on his couch fast asleep.

Tony walked over to the teenager, checking his pulse one more time before going into the kitchen to start the coffee pot up. It was way too early to be dealing with any of this without at least three cups of caffeine in his system.

While waiting for his coffee to finish brewing, Tony tried to think about where to go from here. Should he wake the kid up? There has to be someone out there looking for him, right?

So many different questions and thoughts were running through Tony’s head, and not for the first time, the idea of getting charged for kidnapping crossed Tony’s mind.

After all, if someone really was looking for Spider-man, it would be extremely difficult to explain how he got in Tony’s apartment without some sort of kidnapping allegation popping up.

After finishing up his first cup of coffee, Tony figured that the kid was going to be asleep for a little while longer so he began heading to his bedroom - not without his second cup of coffee though - to get dressed and ready for the day.

Hearing groaning coming from the living room, Tony made sure to make it quick, walking back out to see Spider-Man staring down at his bandaged leg with confusion.

"Morning Spider-Man.” Tony greets, leaning against the entryway with a faux nonchalance. The teen in return let out a very childish manly squeal and tried to cover himself up more with the throw blanket Tony had given him.

Tony could help but snort in amusement as Spider-Man began to look him up and down. For a split second, Tony worried that Spider-Man recognized him from before he disappeared, but the moment passed when the kid’s eyes began to dart around the rest of the apartment.

“Who the heck are you? Where’s Harry?” Spider-Man questions. Tony just took another sip of his coffee, hoping that if he stayed calm about this whole thing then Spider-Man would stay calm also.

“I don’t know who ‘Harry’ is, but I’m Tony.” Tony introduced, staring at Spider-Man for a bit longer as he tried to decide what his next move should be. Anything that could avoid getting charges pressed against him by whoever “Harry” was. “But the real question is who are you? Considering you just broke into my apartment in the middle of the night and then passed out on my couch - you left an impressive bloodstain, by the way. It was pretty gross.”

“Oh my god.” Spider-Man groaned before burying his face in his hands. Tony watched the exact moment that panic began to set in Spider-Man, noticing when his breathing began to pick up a bit.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Crazier shit’s happened to me, trust me.” Tony tries to reassure, walking over towards the teen with his hands up, trying to placate him like he was some wild animal. Considering Tony isn't really around teenagers very often, he might as well be.

Spider-Man removed his hands, looking up at Tony with wide and slightly terrified eyes. Tony could understand why he was terrified, though.

Here he was sitting in a random man’s apartment, injured, and said random man now knew who he truly was. It was a terrifying situation, especially for someone so young.

“And don’t worry about your secret identity. I can keep a secret.” Tony adds, miming zipping up his lips and making sure to grin comfortingly after.

Spider-Man just continued to stare Tony down with a wary look before looking back down at his injured leg. Tony watched as the teen lightly touched the bandages before wrapping the blanket tighter around. Slowly but surely, Spider-Man looked back up at Tony and began to relax back into the couch.

Once Tony was sure the teen wasn’t about to have a breakdown he got up and went into the kitchen, preparing another cup of coffee. The kid sure looked like he could use a couple of cups.

“Thanks.” Spider-Man quietly says as he takes the offered cup out of Tony’s hands.

“I can’t survive a day without at least three cups so I can’t imagine what it’s like for a super kid,” Tony says just to ease a bit of the awkwardness and to have something to talk about other than the big elephant in the room.

"You’d be surprised how much energy I’ve got. My Aunt considered buying me a hamster wheel when I was younger just so I could run it all off. Now I’m more of a hot chocolate kinda guy.” Spider-Man jokes making Tony chuckle. The kid was charming, that’s for sure.

“Well, if you’re going to be stopping bad guys, all that pep must come in handy. A full stomach probably helps, you hungry?” Tony offers, figuring the whole conversation about “why” would go over a bit smoother if the kid had something in his system.

Instead, Spider-Man quickly threw his legs over the side of the couch and attempted to stand up.

“Hey, hey, you gotta go easy on that leg of yours. It’s very delicately put back together.” Tony says when Spider-Man ends up hunching over and hissing from the pain.

Quickly Tony sat his cup on the table and gently put his hands on Spider-man’s shoulders, easing him back down onto the couch. Once the teen was sitting again, Tony examined the bandage, noticing that blood was beginning to seep through it.

“Yeah, that probably needs to be changed.” Tony sighs to himself, thankful that he left the first-aid kit out in the living room last night. Tony had a sneaking suspicion that Spider-Man would try and escape if he was left alone.

Tony made sure to be quick when unwrapping the bandages, unsure if the sight would make the kid queasy; to be honest he didn’t want to find out. It was already bad enough there was a bloodstain on the couch, Tony doesn’t need to add throw-up to the mix.

“Wow. Mine never look like that,” Spider-Man says, admiring the work done on his leg. “Are you a doctor?”

“Oh, God, no. All that schooling? No thanks. I’ve just picked up a few things. Some of it comes in handy. Though, I admit, I never thought I’d be doing this.” Tony absentmindedly says, his main focus on cleaning around the stitching without hurting the kid.

“I’m sorry again.” Spider-Man apologies, although Tony wasn’t really focused on that because his words from a split second ago finally sunk in.

“Wait- did you just say you do this yourself?” Tony asks, a bit horrified at the idea of someone so young and untrained trying to professionally stitch themselves up.

“Only sometimes! And it’s fine because I heal really fast so it never really matters. I’m fine.” Spider-Man defends. All Tony could do was stare blankly at the teen, not even knowing where to begin with that one.

“I’m exhausted just hearing that,” Tony deadpans before returning back to Spider-Man’s leg. “And you’re lucky I got to this when I did. I don’t even want to think about you going at something as messy as this.” Tony says, shuddering a bit at the thought.

“Yeah… I’m sorry you had to deal with me yesterday. Last night was… it was really stupid. And I couldn’t get away without coming here. My friend Harry lives here and I thought I got the right apartment, but, obviously, I’m really bad at counting or something. It’s just - this place looks so much like his that I never even noticed.” Spider-Man rambles. Tony just sat there and listened with amusement, trying to take everything the teen was saying in.

“But, really, Mr. uh, Mr. Tony, it was totally an accident and I’ll cover the washing costs for your couch if that isn't too gross. I could buy you a new one too! But, that might take a while ‘cause it looks expensive and the paper pays me the absolute lowest they possibly can, but I’ll try my best.” Spider-Man continues, his tone of voice getting more and more frantic as he went.

“Woah, kid, take a breath. It’s fine. You’re fine. Who hasn’t broken into a stranger’s house and passed out on their couch? It’s a coming of age experience.” Tony tries to soothe, hoping his teasing tone would be enough to settle the teen.

“And don’t worry about the couch. All the furniture is a rental from the complex; that’s why your friend’s stuff and mine look the same. Guess we’re both too lazy to decorate ourselves.” Tony says, giving the bandages one last tug.

“Well, he just moved out of his dad’s place, so that was probably the last thing on his mind, to be honest,” Spider-Man explains, reminding Tony of why he never even bothered to get new furniture in his place.

Because when he first moved in here, when everything was falling apart and Tony wanted nothing more than to run like a coward and disappear, the last thing on his mind was getting new furniture also.

Tony quickly snaps out of the memory, taking care of the bandages around him.

“I bet he isn’t as good at making omelets as I am. You like peppers?” Tony pushes past the moment, standing up to go into the kitchen when something makes him pause. “And it’s Stark, by the way. Tony Stark. But you can just call me Tony.” Tony introduces, figuring that if the kid hasn’t recognized him by now, then his full name wasn’t going to make any difference.

“No, really Mr. Stark, it’s okay. I don’t want to bother you more. I already wanna die.” Spider-Man sheepishly refuses.

“I did not just patch you up for you to die in my living room,” Tony says before looking at the clock in the kitchen. “Besides, don’t you have school or something? You can’t be more than - what - fourteen?”

“Sixteen.” Spider-Man corrects, pulling an exasperated look out of Tony.

“Ahh, yes, the big difference between a child and a slightly bigger child.” Tony patronizes as he pulls out everything needed to begin making breakfast. “So, what’s a kid like you doing going around fighting crime anyway?”

“My, uh, my uncle died, a year ago.” Spider-Man answers, Tony pausing his slicing in order to turn around and face the teen.

“I’m sorry, kid. That’s hard.” Tony sincerely says watching as Spider-Man just shrugs it off.

“Yeah… it, uhh, it really sucked. Especially because I had already gotten my powers and I could’ve… I could’ve saved him. But I didn't know how at the time. And I just knew, at that moment, that I had to make sure something like that never happened again. I can’t live knowing that I had the power to stop something bad from happening and I chose to do nothing.” Spider-Man continues explaining.

Tony couldn't help but sadly smile, remembering all the things that he could’ve - should’ve - done sooner to stop so much damage from happening. But it was too late now. Way too late.

“Yeah. I get that.” Tony practically whispers before - once again - snapping himself out of his memories by turning around and beginning to crack some eggs into a bowl. “Well, I hear you make quite the impression. So I’d say you’re doing a bang-up job, Underoos.” Tony says, forcing himself to sound light-hearted as he poured the mixture into a pan. Now was not the time to wallow; wallowing was strictly a before-bed routine.

“I hope so.” Spider-Man sighs before realizing what he was just called “Underoos?” He squawks.

“You’re basically wearing PJ’s, kid.” Tony points out, smiling to himself when Spider-Man continued to protest.

“They’re- They’re not PJ’s!”

“If you say so.” Tony continues to tease as he plates the omelet, pouring a glass of orange juice to go along with it before walking into the living room.  

“Mr. Stark, you’re amazing. Thank you. I’m sorry.” Spider-Man stumbles over his words as Tony hands him the breakfast, causing Tony to roll his eyes in return.

“So, while you were comatose on my couch, I noticed your cartridges were empty. You make that webbing stuff yourself?” Tony begins to question once he was comfortable in the armchair with - yet another - cup of coffee.

Spider-Man just nodded, in the middle of shoveling the omelet in his mouth. Tony just whistled in response, completely impressed with what this teen was able to do.

“The tensile strength of that stuff is off the charts. How’d you come up with it?” Tony asks, once again not even bothering to keep the scientist in him from coming out.

“Trial and error, and error, and error,” Spider-Man begins to reply after washing down his food with the orange juice. “I’m good at chemistry and I get to hang around the school lab a lot so it’s easy for me to just,” Spider-Man continues to answer, miming pouring a bunch of things together.

Tony couldn’t help but bust out laughing, the realization of how ridiculous this whole thing was fully sitting in. Spider-Man really was a young child.

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me the ‘Amazing Spider-Man’ makes his web-fluid in a high school lab ?” Tony asks, laughing even harder when the kid gave him a look as if he had just sucked on a lemon.

“It’s not funny! Where else am I supposed to make it?” Spider-Man protests, Tony just shaking his head as he tried to regain his composure.

“Well, what about you? It’s fully working hours and yet here you are.” Spider-Man points out as if he really was doing something there.

“Yeah. Here I am. In my own home that I pay for.” Tony replied dryly, only softening up and shrugging when he realized that he might have embarrassed the kid. “Don’t have anywhere to be today.”

“Well, what do you usually do?” Spider-Man asks and wasn’t that a loaded question. Tony smiled a bit as he ran through his head what he should say. He couldn’t tell the whole truth about working with the Avengers - not without giving himself away and defeating the whole purpose of disappearing in the first place - but he didn’t want to necessarily lie either.

“Let’s just say I’m an over-glorified mechanic. Or, I was anyway. Now, I just do my own thing. I fix people’s stuff.” Tony simplifies.

“Oh cool, like their cars and stuff?” Spider-Man asks as he continues to devour the plate of food. “My friend Ernest - well, he’s not really my friend, but he’s this guy I know ‘cuz one time these guys were holding his shop up and I went in like ‘Hey! This is automatically a crime!’ except they didn’t get it, so I wrapped up faster than usual.” Spider-Man rambles, pouting a bit when he brings up the criminals not understanding his joke.

“Yeah, they didn’t get it because that’s probably the worst pun I’ve ever heard.” Tony teases.

“Hey! You try coming up with good one-liners while fighting off three guys.” Spider-Man squawks.

Several memories began flooding through Tony’s mind -memories of multiple fights he was in, bad-mouthing all of the criminals - the man having to snap himself out of it before he got sucked too deep in it all. “I guarantee I’d still come up with better.”

Like the child he was, Spider-Man just stuck his tongue out in return before reaching down and setting his empty plate on the coffee table.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. I, uh- I really appreciate what you did for me. You didn’t have to, but I won’t forget it.” Spider-Man shyly voices his gratitude.

“Don’t sweat it, kid. And I know you won’t listen to a word of this, but be careful out there. It’s all fun and games until you get stabbed.” Tony fondly says as he got up. He quickly walked into his bedroom and grabbed the first-aid kit.

“I made you a kit. There are some instructions in there because sometimes you just really don’t have the spare minutes to go through pages of Google searches before you bleed out or something.” Tony explains as he walks back out of his bedroom. Sitting down next to the teen, Tony opened up the box and began to take out some wipes.

“Use these to disinfect your leg every so often and make sure to change the bandage or it’s really gonna suck. There’s also some stuff in here to stitch yourself up, but, I have multiple instructions - with pictures - so you at least somewhat know what you’re doing. I put some Advil in there just in case, but I’m not sure if it would work on you; it wouldn't hurt to try, though. And the Vaseline in here is for bruising. If you put it on a few minutes after the injury happened, it won’t bruise.” Tony rambles, wanting to make sure the teen had everything he needed.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark. This is so cool. Thank you. But this is too much. I literally broke into your house and you’re being honestly way too cool about it; it’s freaking me out.” Spider-Man jokes, clearly extremely grateful even if he was trying to seem nonchalant about it. Tony just snorted and fondly ruffled the kid’s hair.

“I can’t in good conscience let you walk outta here without at least that. It’s bad for my heart condition.” Tony says, hoping that if he made it about him it would help the kid ease up on it. Although he quickly dropped the teasing and light-hearted tone in exchange for something a bit more serious so Spider-Man would listen to the next part Tony had to say and take it to heart.

“But if you’re ever in trouble, or you need a place to hide, or you’re too stubborn to go to a hospital like a normal person, you can always come back here.”

“I can’t do that, no, really. It’s okay. Thank you, though, Mr. Stark, but I’m okay. Really. This was just a fluke. A complete one-off, once-in-a-lifetime event. Promise.” Spider-Man adamantly refuses the offer, going so far as to even wave his hands to get the point across.

“You’ve already violated the sanctity of my door, what’s one more time.” Tony jokes, smiling when the teen buried his face in his hands.

“Mr. Stark.” Spider-Man draws out causing Tony to throw his head back and laugh.

*   *   *

Tony wasn’t actually expecting Spider-Man to show up again at his apartment. Not with how embarrassed and adamant the teen was that nothing was going to happen again.

Tony accepted that he was never going to see the teen again as soon as he was able to leave the apartment. All Tony could really do was hope that the kid was following instructions and was cleaning his leg like he was supposed to.

It wasn’t until late the next day when Tony was coming back home from work that he saw a sign of Spider-Man stopping by once again. Right outside on his balcony was a little plate wrapped up in saran wrap.

Curious, Tony walked outside and saw that Spider-Man had left him a plate of cookies while he was out.

Tony couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head, grabbing the plate and walking inside with it.

Of course, the kid would do something as silly and wholesome as leaving him a plate of cookies as - what he was assuming was - a thank you.

Tony took the cookies and put them in his own Tupperware so he could give the plate back, popping one of the cookies in his mouth as he did so.

Humming appreciably, Tony put the plate back out on the balcony before walking back inside and grabbing more bandages. Tony set the bandages down next to the plate before writing out a note for the kid.

You better be disinfecting that leg kid.

Tony figured he would get a kick out of that one, plus hopefully, it’ll drive the message home and make Spider-Man listen if he wasn’t before.

That was a couple of weeks ago.

Tony hadn’t heard anything else from Spider-Man, hadn’t even gotten a sign that the kid was around other than the fact that he took the plate along with the bandages. Which was okay. Tony prepared and expected this.

That didn’t stop him from worrying though. And, of course, his worry led him to the same place it always does; his workshop.

Every time he had another worry come up - like how he had no idea if the kid was still hurt, if the kid was alright now, or if he had gotten hurt all over again - Tony continued to add more and more to his project.

While he worked, Tony tried telling himself that Spider-Man not showing up in a couple of weeks was a good thing. It meant that the kid most likely wasn’t hurt and didn’t need Tony to patch him up. That thought was the only thing bringing him comfort.

Telling himself that working on his project was also a good “just in case” thing and that he most likely won’t even need to give it to Spider-Man in the first place helped comfort him also.

So, yeah, Tony wasn’t expecting to see the vigilante again.

Tony also wasn’t expecting someone to knock on his front door one random night.

Almost as soon as Tony heard the knock, he jumped up to his feet.

Several different thoughts began running through Tony’s head making him paranoid and switch between stopping halfway to the door and actually walking up to the door.

What if it was Spider-Man and he needed Tony’s help again? No, Spider-Man would have come through the balcony, he wouldn’t be knocking on the front door.

What if it’s Pepper? What if Rhodey is in trouble? No, Pepper wouldn’t come here and Rhodey still isn’t comfortable being out in public.

What if it’s one of the Avengers? What if they found him? What if Ross found out about him and what he did? About what he used to do?

Taking a deep breath in and steeling himself, Tony finally managed to push his body the rest of the way to the door, swinging it open.

Sure enough, Spider-Man was standing there in street clothes this time, holding his left arm in his hand.

“So, I, uh, I broke my arm.” Spider-Man greets as if the way his arm was limply laying wasn’t obvious enough.

“Yeah. I can see that.” Tony dryly says, still trying to internally calm down his racing heart now that he knew there was no threat. Tony stepped aside and waved Spider-Man in. “Come in, Spider-Kid. Let’s see what I can do.”

Spider-Man slowly shuffled inside, awkwardly walking over to the couch and practically collapsing once he reached it. Tony watched as Spider-Man’s breathing began to stagger, the adrenaline most likely draining from the kid now.

Tony gave the teen a sympathetic frown, gently taking his arm into his hands to look and feel where the break was and how bad it was.

“You’re gonna be okay, Bud. We just need to snap it in place. It looks like a clean break to me.” Tony tries to reassure. Tony continued to look all over the teen’s arm, trying to remember everything he learned about snapping a bone back into place.

It didn’t look like there was too much fluid building up, it wasn’t bleeding, and the bone wasn’t poking at the skin so it should just be a simple snap-it-in type deal.

“Ready?” Tony asks once he’s done analyzing everything.

“No?” Spider-Man hesitates, making a grin slip out of Tony.

“That’s the spirit,” Tony says, and that was the only warning Spider-Man got before Tony was snapping his arm into place.

Almost instantly, Spider-Man began to scream through his teeth, making Tony snap into action.

“I’m going to get you some water, just take it easy, Kid,” Tony says over Spider-Man’s deep breathing, quickly getting up and getting the kid a glass of water from the kitchen.

When Tony came out, the kid’s eyes were still closed, but his breathing was coming in short pants. Recognizing when a panic attack is about to start, Tony practically ran the rest of the way over to the teen and grabbed a hold of the teen’s chin so he had no choice but to look at Tony.

“Hey. Look at me. Breathe, one two three.” Tony begins to coach, smiling softly when Spider-Man followed his instructions, “There you go. You’re right here. Don’t go anywhere else. You’re right here.” Tony continues to soothe.

Spider-Man just stared into Tony’s eyes while he tried to calm him down, almost as if he would float away again if he looked away. Almost as if Tony’s intense gaze was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

Spider-Man’s breathing soon began to slow down, the teen eventually able to take in a long slow breath.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, his eyes slowly fluttering shut now that all of his adrenaline truly was gone.

“You can kick everyone’s ass except your own brains sometimes.” Tony sighs sadly.

“You get them too?” Spider-Man blurts out. All Tony could really give in return was a tired look, before agreeing because even just the thought of his almost daily panic attacks was enough to suck the energy out of him.

“Yeah.”

“Did they… Did they get better, though?” Spider-Man hesitantly asks, almost as if he was scared to hear the answer. Which should have been enough to tell Tony to sugarcoat his answer, but sometimes his brain and his mouth aren’t wired together.

“Not yet,” Tony says, being quick to amend his answer when he saw the teen’s face fall. “But that doesn’t mean anything for you, kid. You just keep working on it. And drink your water.” Tony instructs, smiling fondly when the teen did what he was told.

“You okay?” Tony asks after Spider-Man had a couple of sips and looked physically calmer.

“Yeah. I’m good. Promise.” Spider-Man honestly replies. Tony continued to stare at him for a little bit longer, debating on whether or not he should give the teen what he’s been working on recently.

“Well, are you ready for a surprise then?” Tony asks once he’s finally made his mind up.

“Surprise?”

“I made something for you. If you’re interested.” Tony clarifies, before grabbing the metal case that held Tony’s recent project.

“Really?” Spider-Man shouts excitedly, sitting up straighter on the couch before he begins to remember himself and quickly protests the gift. “Wait. You can’t give me anything! That’s-That’s too much!”

“Hush, child. Children should be seen, not heard.” Tony quiets, not really wanting to go through a whole song and dance just to get the kid to accept the case.

“Excuse you.” Spider-Man gasps dramatically, making Tony smirk before tossing the case onto the couch cushion next to the vigilante.

“Go on, open it.” Tony permits, trying to hold back his chuckle when Spider-Man just gave Tony a firmly disappointed look.

Despite being "displeased" with it all, Spider-Man still pulled the case into his lap eagerly, quickly opening up the top of the case.

As soon as the red suit inside popped up, along with all of the semantics that were surrounding it, Spider-Man gasped. The teen couldn’t take his eyes off of the suit, and when he did manage to look away, his eyes locked firmly onto Tony’s.

“Is this- Is this what I-” Spider-Man breathlessly stutters, Tony taking pity on the poor boy by cutting him off when it was clear that the teen’s brain had practically self-destructed.

“A brand-new, superhero-worthy Spider-Man suit, equipped with all sorts of anti-bad guy goodies? Probably.” Tony answers for the teen, a warm and proud feeling spreading through his chest when he saw the biggest grin form on Spider-Man’s face; although he made sure he didn’t show it, he refused to show his soft spot.

“Holy shit! This is so cool! This is literally the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life; oh my God! Ned is going to flip!” Spider-Man gushes as he pulls the suit out and examines it.

“I just thought about you running around in your glorified sweats and I couldn’t sleep. So enjoy the suit, kid. It has its own AI and everything.” Tony nonchalantly says as if that wasn’t one of the biggest things to the teen.

“There’s an AI? Holy shit .”

“An AI who’ll - hopefully - help you be careful out there. She can help you navigate the city and deal with whatever shenanigans you get yourself into. The material of the suit itself should keep you - more or less - resistant to the kind of attacks you’ll be dealing with. It’s also fireproof, but I’d really prefer you didn’t go testing that out.” Tony begins listing off everything he put into the suit.

“Are you kidding? I’d never risk burning this. This is literally the best thing ever! I’m going to look so cool.” Spider-Man continues to gush making Tony snort at the teen’s clear excitement.

“Hell yeah, you are.”

Gently, almost as if he was going to destroy it then and there, Spider-Man folded the suit up and placed it back into the case, and closed it up.

“This is really awesome Mr. Stark and I really appreciate it but… are you sure? This must have taken a lot of time, and I don’t even know how much it cost-”

“It’s a multi-million dollar suit.” Tony interrupts, hoping that if he just quickly glossed over it, it won’t become a huge deal. “But I want you to have it,” Tony reassures.

“Did you say multi-million? As in more than one million? As in millions ?” Spider-Man gasps. “Mr. Stark, the most expensive thing I own is a forty-dollar sweater from this Star Wars merch site; and technically I got it on sale.” Spider-Man continues to breathlessly ramble.

Tony couldn’t help it when he threw his head back and laughed at the teen’s reaction. He’s never had someone react like that towards his work. The Avengers sure as hell weren’t even nearly half as impressed as Spider-Man was.

“Trust me, kid, I wouldn’t have made this for you if I didn’t think you deserved it.” Tony earnestly says, watching as Spider-Man stopped completely and widened his eyes, almost as if no one’s complimented him about this kind of thing.

Which, now that Tony thought about it, that was most likely the case. The teen probably hasn’t been told that he’s been doing a good job with everything for the same reason he comes to Tony’s apartment; because there’s no one else there to do it.

Tony once again decided that it was up to him to step into that role.

“I think you do good work, Underoos. And - more importantly - I think your hearts in the right place. With some more experience and some better tech, you’ll be able to do some amazing things.” Tony compliments. Spider-Man just blushed and ducked his head shyly in return, which managed to pull a fond smile out of Tony.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark. That’s… That’s really nice of you to say.”

“You’ll be one of the greats one day, kid. No doubt about it.” Tony confidently says, making sure his tone of voice left no room for disbelief. It must have worked because Spider-Man cracked a small smile in return.

Then he whispered a sentence that made Tony’s entire body seize right up.

“Like Iron Man?”

So many thoughts and questions began to race through Tony’s head.

The first question was: did this kid know?

No. He couldn’t possibly know. No one but the people in his old life knew. No one from the public knew or even had close to an idea.

The next question was why in the hell did this kid look up to Iron Man of all heroes? Why did he have to think that Iron Man was what he should be living up to?

Didn’t this kid know that Iron Man is the reason Tony now has nothing? No friends, no girlfriend, no company, no one to live with but the dust bunnies in the corner of his apartment.

Of course, he couldn’t possibly know all that, but that wasn’t going to stop Tony from trying to persuade his thoughts otherwise.

“Mr. Stark?” A tiny voice breaks through all of Tony’s thoughts. Snapping his head up, Tony realized that he had gotten too far into his head and quickly shook himself out of it.

“Nothing, kid. I’d just… shoot higher than the tin can.”

“Are you crazy? You can’t shoot higher than Iron Man! Iron Man is Iron Man! He’s the best.” Spider-Man protests. Tony wasn’t sure what his face looked like right now, but he knew it had to be a look of disgust because Spider-Man just continued to ramble about the ex-hero.

“Hello! The battle of New York? He flew a nuke into a wormhole and then the Avengers closed the portal on him - which was totally uncool by the way - and he still came back anyway. And he defeated the Mandarin after all those bombings happened and then there was that whole thing with the terrorist in Afghanistan and stopping that guy from Stark Industries and rescuing-” And Tony couldn’t help but groaning and rubbing his face when Spider-Man stopped mid-sentence.

Because Tony knew - could pinpoint the exact moment one of his identities clicked inside the teen’s head.

“You're Tony Stark. Oh, my God. I’m in Tony Stark’s apartment,” Spider-Man gasps, “I bled on Tony Stark’s couch. Oh, my God. How did I miss that? Holy-”

“Are you done?” Tony interrupts the revelation, glaring at the - once again - rambling teen.

“No. No, I am not done. I can’t believe I didn’t reconsider you before. Oh, my God. You’re the CEO of Stark Industries.” Spider-Man continues to freak out.

“Ex-CEO” Tony corrects, rubbing his temples to try and stave off an oncoming migraine.

“What?”

“I gave it to my old assistant Pepper. She’s better at it anyway. I told you, I’m just an over-glorified mechanic now.” Tony explains, causing Spider-Man to sputter in return.

“B-But why? You were the most famous inventor of all time until you just… disappeared.”

“If you think fame and notoriety are still the most important things in the world, you’ve got some growing up to do, kid.” Tony lecture. Although it wasn’t a very strong lecture with how tired and done with it all Tony sounded.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way I just… I go to a super nerdy school and I’ve been into tech my whole life. So, I - uhh - I totally followed your whole career when I was younger. It’s why I like Iron Man, too. He made himself into a hero, you know? He saw that things needed to change and so he changed them himself." Spider-Man explains.

Tony just stood there and stared at the teen, trying to process everything he was just told.

Tony had to keep reminding himself that Spider-Man didn't know; that no one knew. No one knew about his secret identity and that it was just a coincidence that Spider-Man happened to look up to Tony and his alter-ego.

That didn't make it any better, though.

Tony hated the fact that Spider-Man looked up to them. That he wanted to be like them. The kid needed to shoot higher for something, needed a better role model than Tony and Iron Man. Which was the conflicting part because this kid really needed a mentor and the only "hero" he just so happened to stumble upon was Tony.  

"I'm not the kind of guy you want to look up to, kid. Neither is Shellhead. Trust me." Tony voices out loud before turning and walking away. He figured the kid knew his way out himself. "Enjoy the suit."

*   *   *

It was until later that night when Tony's hunger got the better of him and he figured that Spider-Man had left a while ago and it was safe for him to that Tony left his workshop and came back out into the living room.

Sure enough, Spider-Man was gone when Tony reached the living room, and the only sign that the vigilante was in his home in the first place was the note sitting on his coffee table.

I think you're selling yourself short ex-CEO or not - Peter Parker

(Now you know my secret identity too. I only thought it was fair)

Tony didn't quite know what to do with that, but if Tony ripped the first part of the note off and kept it in his desk drawer - well - no one had to know.

*   *   *

It was another couple of weeks and, once again, there was no word from Spider-Man.

No, not Spider-Man. Peter Parker.

Almost as soon as Tony got his name, he went back down into his workshop and began researching anything he could find on the kid.

He found out that he went to Midtown, which in itself was pretty impressive, but he even managed to find all of the teen's robotics and decathlon awards, and his grades and GPA.

Okay, well, Tony didn't happen to stumble onto all of that, he probably did a little bit more hacking than he should have, but he was curious. Sue him.

Although the straight-A's and 4.0 really explain a lot about how Peter was able to get around doing all of this hero-ing and how he was able to go for so long without the proper resources. The kid was smart.

But, Tony also found some not-so-fun stuff. Like three specific death certificates.

He wasn't so shocked to find the death certificate of Ben Parker since Peter had already brought his Uncle up, but he was shocked to find death certificates for Richard and Mary Parker.

Something tight settled into Tony's chest when he found those and realized that the teen was an orphan just like he was; albeit a little younger.

After that, Tony stopped his stalking background check and decided that he would get the rest of whatever information from Peter himself.

Two days after he started his research, another knock came from Tony's front door.

Once again, Tony couldn't help but be paranoid at the sound, but quickly forced himself to relax when he reminded himself that the only person who comes to visit him is the Spider-Kid.

Sure enough, when Tony opened up the door, Peter was standing on the other side of the door, holding up a bag of cheeseburgers in one hand and a bag with a bunch of drinks and snacks in the other.

"There better not be mushrooms in that thing," Tony says in lieu of a greeting.  

"Excuse you. This is an all-American cheeseburger. There's lettuce, tomato, onion, pickles, meat, and cheese and that's that." Peter scoffs.

"I've never respected you more, honestly," Tony says as he widens the door and steps aside so Peter could walk on in.

The teen gave him a big grin in return as he made his way into the apartment, quickly settling onto the couch like he had been coming over for years. Which considering the kid only really comes over when he's severely injured, Tony is beginning to feel like he's aged a few years.

After the kid hands out the food to both him and Tony, he began to make his way into the kitchen and pour them both a glass of water.

Tony couldn't help but watch with amusement, kind of shock, and touched at the same time that Peter was no longer afraid to make himself at home. Maybe it means the kid is going to start coming around more so Tony doesn't have to constantly worry about whether or not he's dead in an alleyway.  

Almost as soon as Peter set down the glasses of water, he was sitting down next to Tony and practically inhaling his burger.

"So good. A-plus. Really made the robbery worth it." Peter talks around the bite of burger in his mouth, completely missing the incredulous and somewhat angry look Tony was giving him.

"You got these at a robbery?"

"When you see a Shake Shake being held up, you gotta intervene. And if the owner gives you free food as a thank you then," Peter shrugs as he sets his bottle of sprite down, "the friendly neighborhood Spier-Man would never be impolite enough to say no."

Tony couldn't help but huff and shake his head at the teen's antics and the audacity he had to actually look smug about it all.

"And we can't have that, can we?" Tony continues the light banter they have going.

"No, sir," Peter replies, both of them instantly laughing once they caught each other's eyes.

"So, fix anything today?" Peter asks as Tony settles down onto the couch right next to the teen.

"Neighbor downstairs had her car malfunction; took a look at that for her today. Nothing fancy. How's the suit.?" Tony quickly changes the subject, hating talking about himself more than he needed to. That usually led to very important - very secretive - stuff getting out by accident.

"It's incredible! Like, seriously, Mr. Stark. It's the coolest thing ever, and it works so well, and I've been getting so many compliments. Did you see me trending on Twitter? That was so cool!" Peter bursts out, almost as if he was holding all of that in until Tony said something.

"Yeah, I saw that. Might have contributed to a few on the conspiracy theories." Tony smiles the weird warmth in his chest once again spreading at the sight of the happy teen.

"Are you serious? Mr. Stark." Peter groans. Tony had to try and choke down his laugh at the sight.

"My personal favorite was 'Spider-Man steal Daredevil's suit and cuts off horns'" Tony continues to tease, earning a whining type noise in return. "Hey, you'll grow. Probably."

"I retract my compliments effective immediately." Peter dryly says, making Tony give the kid another smirk.

"Sorry, no takebacks. Can't erase this memory." Tony says as he taps his temple before finally reaching for his weird robbery burger.

"Hey, Mr. Stark?" Peter hesitantly asks, gaining Tony's attention. "Why'd you sell your tower to the Avengers?" Peter asks once he was sure Tony was paying attention.

Which... that wasn't a question Tony was prepared to get asked.  

Tony stopped eating his burger and cleared his throat before actually answering. "They asked and I agreed. I was planning on moving SI operations anyway."

"So, it isn't true that you did some work for them?" Peter continues to question. Tony's heart instantly began to pound. He couldn't help but feel nervous as to where this line of questioning was about to go.

"Why do you say that?"

"Twitter." Peter shrugs before returning to his burger. And, of course, of course, Twitter would figure out viable information like that.

"You know, it's constantly surprising to me that more national secrets aren't revealed on the internet every day." Tony deadpans, causing Peter to gape at him.

"So you did?"

"I consulted on some of their tech. That's all. No biggie." Tony sighs, already knowing that Peter was going to make a huge deal about it and he was going to have to talk about it more than he already wants to.

"No biggie? It's a huge biggie! Did you work on their suits?" Peter rapidly questions, gasping when something dawned on him. "Is that how you were so good at mine? Did you work on the Iron Man armors?"

"Can't a man keep any secrets anymore?" Tony asks in the hope to be able to drop this conversation completely.

"Not if they involve the Avengers." Peter was quick to deny. All Tony could do was stare at this teen in annoyance.

What did this kid see in the Avengers that gave them all of his awe and respect?  Didn't he know that the avengers are some of the worst people out there? Apparently not, and tony was going to have to be the one to tell him.

"Why do you even care about the Avengers so much? Because I'm telling you, they're nothing to be fanboying about. They were dysfunctional, aggressive, and uncooperative. They preached about teamwork but were the first to turn on each other when the going got rough. And when things got bad, when people started dying because of their actions, they decided their own self-righteousness was way more important than the will of the entire world." Tony began to rant, getting so into finally being able to let out all the pent-up rage that he didn't even notice when Peter's face began to fall.

"They were called 'Earth's Greatest Defenders', but in the end, what did it all matter when everything that mattered to them disappeared. When even their so-called family didn't matter more to them than their pride." Tony finishes spitting down, Peter looking down at his lap with discomfort and hurt in his eyes.

"Just because they weren't perfect doesn't mean they weren't still great. Everyone has their bad side, but they still tried their best." Peter tries to defend, making Tony nod when he realized he was going to have to break this down and make Peter see his point.

"Okay, but what if what's right and wrong stopped being so simple? A guy starts a fight in the middle of the street; that's wrong. So you break it up. Easy right? Aliens invade the Earth. That wrong, right? So you defeated them." Tony waited until Peter showed he understand before continuing.

"But, what if, before they were defeated, you saw that you only got rid of one percent of the threat. That beyond them was something infinitely more terrifying just waiting for the perfect moment to attack. What if you knew that threat was imminent. What do you do?"

"You build your defense. You prepare." Peter confidently answers.

"But here's the thing; what lines do you cross to prepare? What boundaries do you have to set? The Avengers were a group of superpowered people thrown together without any foundation so when questions like those popped up, they didn't have enough faith in one another to resolve them without breaking apart. So, tell me then, what were they really thinking about? Their hearts? Or their pride?"

"The Avengers split up because of the Accord, didn't they?" Peter asks, slowly getting to the root of the real problem.

"The Accords were just the catalyst. In the end, it was betrayals on the inside that made them irreconcilable and what made half of them go into hiding and the other turn into fugitive still playing a vigilante on the down-low." Tony huffs before crumpling up the take-out bag in his hands, just to have something to do with them and to make his next admission easier.

"I've been around too many superheroes to be blind to the costs of it. And no one lost more than Iron Man."

"You know what happened to him?" Peter gasps. Tony just gave a wry smile as he nodded.

"He lost the love of his life, he lost his team, he was betrayed by his best friend, he lost everything until all he had left was a suit. But what purpose did that serve? When everything he fought for had slipped right through his fingers." Tony vents, trying as best as he could to reel in his emotions afterward.

"That's terrible," Peter whispers as he shrinks into the couch.

Tony doesn't really say anything after that, too shocked with how much better he felt. He finally feels like the tight knot that constantly sat in his chest has loosened; even if it was just the tiniest bit.

Tony hasn't once talked about everything that's happened. He's never brought up his and Pepper's breakup, what happened to him during the Accords, or even what happened after he went after Steve. No one knew.

Except now for this random-ass kid. And even though he thought it was about Iron Man and not Tony, having someone actually know and understand surprisingly helped Tony.

Maybe it was time for Tony to accept what had happened and call Rhodey.

"If you...," Peter tries to begin before clearing his throat and trying again, "if you hate superheroes so much, then why- why did you make me a suit?" The teen finally gets out. And for the first time since Peter began asking him about superheroes, Tony actually felt confident and sure of his answer.

"I've met a lot of heroes since my time with the Avengers. I've met magicians and aliens and enhanced, but I've never met anyone like you. If the Avengers had half the heart you did, I think the world would be a different place right now." Tony certainly says, giving a small and soft smile when he saw the teen blush under the blatant compliment.

"I'd given up on superheroes. I guess the jury's still out now, Peter."

"I don't know if I deserve that," Peter whispers, shaking his head.

"You want to be as good as Iron Man and I'm telling you you're better."

*   *   *

After that, it's like Tony can't get rid of Peter.

The teen quickly began to pop in weekly, just to check-in; or at least that's what he says it is.

And Tony would deny it to his last dying breath that he actually enjoyed the kid's presence. If anyone asked, he was annoyed every time but accepted it anyway. But secretly, deep down, he really did enjoy having Peter's company every week.

Tony hadn't realized how long he's been alone until he finally had someone to interact with.

Slowly but surely, Tony begins to learn a bit more about Peter and what makes him tick.

Peter lives with his Aunt currently; although she knows nothing about his "extracurricular" and he preferred to keep it that way. He had three really close friends -  Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, and Harry Osborn; let's just say Tony was a bit - read a lot - dramatic when he found out Peter was friends with an Osborn. He also found out that the kid was in tenth grade, which didn't help with the guilt Tony felt for actually encouraging Peter's behavior; although to make himself feel better, Tony just kept reminding himself that Peter was doing this way before he dropped into Tony's life, and if anything he was doing everyone a favor by helping out.

Taking everything into consideration, Peter seems to be a typical teenager. But there's still something behind the scenes, Tony's noticed.

There's always something a little lingering - wanting - behind Peter's eyes sometimes. Something a little dark behind all the shy looks Peter gives when Tony compliments or praises something good Peter has done.

Tony hates it - no one that young should look that haunted - and is officially deadset on making it all go away one day, or at least making it better and easier.

Currently, Tony was working on a project in his workshop, waiting for JARVIS to let him know when the teen got to the apartment.

By now, Peter is no longer shy about just waltzing into the apartment through the balcony door, and Tony has since stopped caring and learned to just leave it unlocked so the Spider-Kid could come in, but he still was working on something extremely delicate and the kid was too light-footed for Tony's liking.

The last thing Tony needed was for his location to be outed just because he got startled by a teenager and blew the whole building up.

'Sir, Spider-Man is requesting access.' JARVIS finally chimes in, the heads-up causing a small smile to form on Tony's face.

"Great! Tell him I'm waiting for him and let him in, J." Tony adjures while patting Dum-E on the head and taking the smoothie the bot was offering.

And Tony had tried to pay attention to when Peter walked into the lab, wanting to see the kid's eyes light up when he saw what had to of been a wet dream for the teen, but that was until Dum-E started trilling and trying to go after the smoothie he had just handed over.

"Don't you dare," Tony stops, holding a finger up to keep the bot in place. "Step away from the smoothie, Dum-E."

Dum-E just continued to chitter, nodding his head while Tony insistently shook his. "Nope, you already perfected it without the motor oil. That's overkill. You trying to kill your Dad?" Tony continues to argue with the bot.

"Aww Mr. Stark, he's just trying his best, aren't you?" Peter coos, alerting Tony to his presence.

"Hey, you, knock it off or you'll positively reinforce this nonsense." Tony scolds, although the overly-fond look he was giving took away most of the seriousness.

"You into chem now?" Peter asks once he gets over to the worktable Tony was at and looked through all the magnifying glasses.

"Actually, I'm trying to make exploding webbing for you," Tony announces, "but the process isn't going as smoothly as I thought," Tony admits. Peter on the other hand was practically bouncing out of his skin with excitement.

"Are you for real right now?"

"Realer than real, kid," Tony replies with faux seriousness.

"This is so crazy. I'm science-ing with Tony Stark. Ned's going to lose it." Peter continues to marvel.

Tony couldn't help but grin at the teen's excitement, handing him a pair of safety goggles. "How is he anyway? Has he gotten over dying from the suit?" Tony questions, making Peter snort.

"No way. He went on about that for weeks, but he's valid." Peter answers.

"And school? No trouble in minor paradise?" Tony continues to question, adding that as his contribution to the darkness in the kid's eyes for the day.

"No different than normal." Peter shrugs, purposefully avoiding eye contact with Tony.

"I take it 'normal' isn't usually slap your knee fantastic?" Tony aims for light-hearted.

"It's nothing. Just high school." Peter brushes off while fiddling with a screwdriver. That sad look was beginning to return in Peter's eyes, making Tony's mentor - not parental thank you very much, he didn't have any of those - instincts go haywire.

"You know," Tony begins, picking up a wrench and fiddling with that also, "I used to get bullied too when I was younger," Tony admits, figuring that this was what this was.

"No, you didn't." Peter denies, scrunching his face up in disbelief.

"Genius kid with a smart mouth and at least four years younger than everyone else in his classes? I'd be more surprised if I wasn't pushed around." Tony snorts.

"That sounds way worse. My thing really isn't a big deal." Peter defeatedly says.

"If it bothers you, then it's a big deal. Spill, kid." Tony genuinely says, poking Peter in the side with the wrench to try and get him to start talking.

"Honestly, Mr. Stark, it's nothing, it's just this kid... Flash," Peter finally begins to open up, "He's just mad that I 'stole' his spot on the Decathalon team and he thinks that making fun of me will make me leave or something, but it won't. But it doesn't make it any less sucky, and I thought that all the stupid stuff he said didn't bother me, but sometimes..." Peter trails off.

"You hear the stuff he says when you're already feeling kicked around?" Tony finishes for the teen, his voice sympathetic.

"Yeah. Exactly." Peter agrees, finally looking up at Tony.

"Yeah, that's the way that kinda stuff goes. No one's immune to thing like that, Pete, no matter how much we say we don't care." Tony says, and his point must be getting somewhat across because the teen looked back down at his lap, lip firmly tuck between his teeth.

"With that said though, everything that Flash kid told you? Automatically tossed in a trash can based purely on the fact that nothing a kid named Flash says can be accurate in any way." Tony teases to ease some of the tension in the room, smiling a bit when it seemed to work and got Peter to smirk. "Sorry not sorry, that's just a fact. It's all purely bullshit."

"But what if it's not." Peter blurts out, dropping his head right into his hands. And that - the fact that Peter believes some of the things this asshole says - that doesn't sit right with Tony.

"I guarantee non of the things he says about you are true. You said it yourself, he's jealous that you got something he didn't; and with a name like that, he's probably used to getting everything he's ever wanted his whole life, so the second it doesn't go his way, he throws a tantrum. It's not even about you. Not really. It's all about him and his own insecurities." Tony calmly rambles, wanting anything for this kid to realize his worth.

"Yeah, but it still sucks! It sucks, and I hate it, and I wish he'd just leave me alone!" Peter shouts, taking Tony back a bit. He's never heard Peter yell about something before, and Peter must have realized that because he instantly began apologizing.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I just- I'm just so frustrated. And I'm so over it, and I've never even done anything to him. And he just doesn't leave me alone."

"Hey, it's okay." Tony comforts, gently squeezing the teen's shoulder. "That guy's a jerk. Be upset. We can build a dummy right now and you can have at it after we tape his face on it." Tony continues to soothe.

"I don't think that'll help to be honest." Peter snorts.

The self-deprecating look in Peter's eye still lingered, sending thousands of alarms bell of in Tony's head telling him to fix it fix it fix it. Someone so good and kind-hearted shouldn't ever have this look, it killed Tony inside to see it. So, Tony did the only thing he knew how to do; he began to ramble.

"Peter, you fight crime as a hobby and still play Legos with your friends. You have a big heart and you're ridiculously smart. You're literally every parent's dream child and you're the only teenager in the world that's actually likable.  You're killing it on all fronts. And if you want me to go down to that asshole's house and scare him with some avengers tech, I'm game, but if you want to do cool science stuff he'll never be able to do in a million years, I'm game for that too."

"I'm the only teenager you know," Peter responds, the watery tone in his voice telling Tony that his point finally got across, but it was just better to focus on something else at the moment.

"Excuse you, I'm a well-connected man. I know teenagers. And they're all terrible." Tony jokes, taking the bait and allowing the subject to change.

"Except me." Peter points out, finally cracking a grin.

"Except you." Tony agrees, poking Peter in the forehead. "You're a cool kid, Peter Parker."

Peter just groaned and pushed Tony's hand away before arguing. "Do you know how uncool it is to be called cool by a senior citizen?"

"Banned. Blocked. Unfollowed." Tony says as soon as the forbidden "s-word" left Peter's mouth, pointing at the door.

Although, it was hard to be mad when the kid's infectious laugh rang throughout the walls of the lab.

*   *   *

It wasn't very often that Tony thanked his mind. Nine times out of ten his mind was betraying him and either sending him into a spiraling panic or into a spiraling depression; there really wasn't an in-between.

But every now and then, Tony's brain will supply him with an idea that he can't help but be grateful a million times over. Putting an AI into Peter's suit was one of those times.

At one-fifty-three in the morning, Tony got an alert from JARVIS, saying that Peter's AI in his Spider-Man suit was trying to reach him.

Tony quickly sat up in bed and demanded that JARVIS put her through.

"Karen?" Tony calls out, only slightly cringing at the random name Peter gave the AI.

'Mr. Stark, as per the baby monitor protocol I am to inform you that Peter's heart rate is currently at 148 beats per minute.' Karen informs, making Tony's heart sink at the news.

"What? Why? Is he hurt?" Tony questions, quickly hopping out of bed and putting clothes on.

'Peter currently is unharmed, although it appears that he's having what you would call a panic attack.' Karen informs, making Tony curse.

"Is he on his way here?"

'Yes, he is approximately thirty-eight seconds away.' Karen says, and sure enough, by the time Tony ran out to the living room, Peter was flipping onto the balcony.

Tony opened up the sliding glass door before Peter even had a chance to, hating the scene he saw before him. He hated that the kid had to go through all of this so young.

"Hey, kid." Tony lamely greets.

"Mr. Stark. I can't." Peter rasps. Tony just gives the kid a sympathetic smile before lightly placing his hand on Peter's arm.

"Yes, you can, but let's sit down first," Tony says, gently leading Peter over to the couch.

While Tony made sure the sliding door was just and the curtains were closed, Peter all but flopped on the couch and ripped his mask off of his face, gasping as if the thin material was suffocating him.

Before Tony could even get over to the teen and help him, Peter began to struggle out of his suit. The teen's jerky movements were doing nothing to help him though, instead, making the suit stick even more to his skin.

All it took was one swift tug, and the next thing they both knew, the suit was ripping clean in half.

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Mr. Stark, I-I- the suit- your suit- I-" Peter began to gasp, Tony quickly brushing away his shock so he could walk in front of Peter. Honestly, the suit really was the least of his worries at the moment.

"Kid, hey, kid, listen to me." Tony tries to calm, grabbing Peter's face in both of his hands in an attempt to ground him.

"It's okay. You're okay. The suit's okay. Everything is okay." Tony firmly says. Peter just shook his head, effectively pulling it out of Tony's grasp. Tony's heart ached so deeply when he saw the tears pooling in the teen's eyes.

"No, it isn't. No, it isn't." Peter insists, dropping his head in his hands. "I messed up, Mr. Stark. I messed up really bad."

"Every single problem in the universe has a solution, Peter. We'll find it." Tony confidently says and his heart actually felt like it was shattering when he saw the tears begin to drip down Peter's wrists.

Figuring it was better to let Peter get it all out of his system and calm down before talking, Tony got up and made his way into the kitchen.

He started the usual tradition he and Peter had slowly developed, making sure a pot of coffee was beginning to brew and a kettle of water was boiling on the stove.

Once he was sure everything was being made, Tony went into his bedroom, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a random shirt for Peter to get changed in. They might be huge on the scrawny boy, but anything had to be better than sitting in his boxers.

Returning back to the living room, Tony exchanges Peter's suit for his clothes before heading right back to his lab. He looked over the suit while he walked, looking over the rip to see how bad it truly was.

He still honestly couldn't believe that the teen ripped it in half. It was defiantly going to take some fixing, but at least it'll keep Tony busy for a while.

"It's a quick fix. Trust me, the machine will sew it right back up." Tony reassures Peter about the suit once he heads back to the kitchen once again.

There wasn't a response, not that Tony was really expecting it, so Tony just made himself busy by making himself a cup of coffee and a hot chocolate up for Peter. He even made sure to add extra marshmallows in the cup along with some whipped cream, hoping that even the small gesture would be enough to help Peter feel better.

Tony took his familiar seat in the armchair across from the couch, holding out the mug of hot chocolate to Peter.

"It's not the suit that's bothering you, is it?" Tony guesses as Peter begins to take the offered mug.

No one said anything for a while, which was fine. Tony was more than happy to just sit there and wait for Peter to calm down and gather all of his thoughts. He just sat there and allowed the silence, occasionally turning his attention onto his coffee every now and then.

Eventually, Peter took a tentative sip of his hot chocolate - which Tony considered a huge win - before clearing his throat and whispering, "There was a fire today."

Tony just looked at him, making sure the teen knew he had his full attention.

"Karen told me about it and I went there as fast as I could, but when I- when I got there-" Peter continues, stopping to collect himself before he fell completely apart again, "the fire was- it was so big, Mr. Stark. It was- I'd never seen anything like that before and I just..." Peter trailed off.

"You froze." Tony finishes for the teen, having a hunch that was exactly what was happened. He's been there himself enough times to know for himself.

"Yeah, I froze. But then people were yelling and someone was screaming about their sister and I just- I just ran in there. And it was so smoky and everything was on fire and it was so hot, I thought I was going to die." Peter says, refusing to look up at Tony.

"And then I heard her screaming. And I tried to get up as fast as I could using the elevator shaft, but when I got to the third floor, I didn't- my senses were going haywire and I couldn't- it took me so long," Peter chokes, "when I found her-" Peter tried again, gasping and covering his mouth like he was trying to swallow the words back down. Tony just sat patiently, trying everything to hide his shattering heart from the teen; the last thing he needed was to make Peter feel guilty for something else he couldn't control.

"When I found her, she was on fire too." Peter finally gets out, the tears fully coming out along with the words. "She had passed out from the smoke and I just panicked. I was so scared- I didn't know what to do, but Karen just started listing off protocols and I rolled her in the carpet to put the fire out and then I grabbed onto her and I broke through the window, and I got her down, but her face-" Peter spits out all at once, almost as if once he got the words out he wasn't about to stop.

"She was my age, Mr. Stark. And now she has to go to school with burns all over her body because I couldn't get to her in time." Peter whimpers.

Tony just stared for a bit at Peter in awe. How could someone so small take on the guilt of the world? This kid was beating himself to a pulp because some girl now had scars. He didn't even care that without him there the girl wouldn't even be alive right now.

Tony couldn't take it anymore; he couldn't sit here and listen to this kid destroy himself anymore.

Slowly, Tony sat his coffee cup on the coffee table and made his way over to the couch. Almost as soon as Tony was sitting down next to Peter, he was pulling the teen on for a hug without even thinking.

For a second Peter just sat stock still in Tony's arms, making Tony think that maybe this wasn't the best idea. He's a grown man hugging some random teen and - yeah - maybe they've been getting closer lately, but he still was thirty-some years older; Peter probably thought he was some kind of creep.

But then Peter suddenly wrapped his arms around Tony tightly, burying his face into Tony's neck and officially breaking down.

Tony just held Peter in his arms, allowing him to get his grief out. The poor kid's shoulders trembled with how hard he was sobbing causing Tony to look up at the ceiling to make sure he didn't start crying with the kid.

He felt so helpless just sitting there while Peter was going through all this turmoil. The kid really deserved so much better and Tony had no idea how to give it to him.

Eventually, Peter's cries began to tamper off and his breathing began to slow, his body finally crashing from the lack of adrenaline and all the emotional distress he had just gone through.

"You saved that girl's life." Tony finally says once Peter's breathing settled enough for him to pay attention to what was being said. "If you hadn't been there, it would have been too late. You gave her a chance, Peter. Nothing in the world is more important than that." Tony earnestly says, wanting nothing more than to have his message get across.

Peter was at least hearing him because he tightens his arms around Tony once the words were floating out in the air.

"You did your best, kid. That's all you can ask from yourself." Tony continues to drill.

"But what if your best isn't good enough?" Peter wavers and - shit - wasn't that the million-dollar question? That was the same exact question Tony's been asking himself since Afghanistan.

Tony just took a deep breath and gave the answer that he wished everyone else would have given him when he asked the same thing.

"Then we keep on trying anyway."

*   *   *

"Where did the Avengers go?" Peter blurts out one night while they were working on web formulas together.

Tony didn't mean to, but he practically froze at the question. He's been trying not to freeze up every time Peter brought up the Avengers - because let's be honest, the teen is constantly talking about them - but usually Tony could tell when a conversation was steering over towards that subject.

He didn't even know what to do when Peter just blurted these kinds of questions out.

"No one knows. That's why it's called being in hiding, kid." Tony tries to brush off, forcing himself to relax and get back to work; although he was no longer focusing on the task at hand.

"You worked with them though - you know them - you don't have any idea?" Peter continues to push.

"If I had to put money on it, I'd say they were in Wakanda, but the hell if I know." Tony huffs, tugging his goggles off and tossing them onto the workbench.

"Thor's in Asgard, though; that I can tell you for sure. And Bruce..." Tony trails off as he thinks about his long-lost friend. As he thinks about the past two years without him, about where he could possibly be, if he was even still alive. He honestly missed him, even though he tried his best not to think about it too much since it always led to memories about them.

"Were you two friends?" Peter cuts through Tony's thoughts, making the scientist look back up at the teen. Tony just stared a bit before huffing, multiple memories of him and Bruce flashing through his mind.

"Yeah, we were. We worked on some projects together. It was fun." Tony says, giving the bare minimum of information like always. Except, like always, Peter continued to gush and talk about the subject.

"That's so cool! Dr. Banner is, like, the biggest expert on gamma radiation ever! That must've been crazy!" Peter practically drools over this bit of knowledge, slowly getting Tony excited about all the good memories he and Bruce had.

"He was really good at the tech stuff, too," Tony adds, his smile slowly growing as he continued to think back on his time with Bruce. "And he was really funny. He didn't mean to be half the time, but there was just something about him."

"Do you think that... do you think that any of them will ever come back?" Peter hesitantly asks, once again bringing up a question that Tony constantly thought about to himself.

Tony stopped to think about it for a second, about what it would be like if the Avengers came back. On one hand, it would be great to have a backup if that threat from above came down, but on the other hand, Tony knew they wouldn't be much help anyway; they would probably be too busy arguing with each other to even save a single person.

"I don't know. A part of me hopes they do, a part of me hopes they don't." Tony honestly answers before turning towards the teen. "Do you?"

"The world needs the Avengers, Mr. Stark. It always has." Peter replies without even needing to think about it.

A sick pit of dread began forming in Tony's stomach when he realized that this was probably the answer most people were going to have towards the Avengers. That, yeah, there were several thousand people who hate the Avenger's guts and everything the Avengers stood for, but there's also probably several thousand people who look up to the Avengers. Who's counting on the Avengers to be there when another threat attacks Earth; and none of them were to be found.

They were going to let several thousand people down once again. That was enough to make Tony want to run for the hills again.

"I think they'll come back." Peter confidently says, breaking Tony out of his downward spiral. "They're heroes. They're the heroes. If something happens, there's no way they can just sit back. That's not what heroes do."

"Not everyone who wears a suit is a hero, Pete. Pretty sure Captain America said that." Tony says, repeating the - unfortunately - familiar words.

"Well, then he doesn't know what he's talking about because the Avengers are heroes even without the suits. I know it." Peter firmly says, a silence falling on the two afterward.

The weird warm sensation was spreading in Tony's chest once again at the thought of Peter actually thinking Tony was something worthy of the hero title; even if he didn't actually know that he was inadvertently talking about Tony.

"And I don't know if I can do it alone. What if something big comes against and it's just... me?" Peter questions in a small voice, not even looking up at Tony. Tony was kind of glad, though, that Peter wasn't looking at him because he knew that he wouldn't be able to give the comforting look the teen was looking for.

He didn't want Peter to know the truth; that he was terrified of that exact situation happening.

"Then we'll figure it out." Tony eventually answers.

"We? No offense, Mr. Stark, but you being on the scene would just stress me out more." Peter huffs, and despite the matter of the subject Tony couldn't help but crack a small and knowing smile, finding the fact that he could be out there with Peter and the teen would have no idea amusing.

"You'd be surprised, Pete."

*   *   *

To say they were all surprised three months later when a gigantic spaceship appeared across the sky was an understatement. Well, Tony wasn't as surprised as he was terrified.

Tony was at work when he just felt a shift in the air. Dread was quickly filling up throughout his body until he could no longer ignore the paranoia and had to look outside.

As soon as he got outside, a ring of sparks began to form, making Tony jump back a bit; especially when a man began to walk out of the sparks.

"Tony Stark? I'm Doctor Stephen Strange. I need you to come with me now." The man announces in a no-nonsense tone.  Tony just continued to stare at the man in complete shock, unsure of what the strangest part of this whole thing was; the fact that the guy's actual name was Strange, that he just walked through an actual portal or the fact that he was dressed in a tunic and cloak.

"Oh, uh, I know you're Iron Man, by the way." Doctor Stephen Strange adds as if that was going to make Tony want to go with him even more than before.

"I'm sorry, who the fuck are you, exactly?" Tony questions, his heart sinking at the idea of someone knowing his alter-ego.

"We need your help. It's not overselling it to say that the fate of the universe is at stake."

The next thing Tony knew, he and Bruce were being reunited, another wizard was telling him some messed up version of the big bang, and now they were fighting aliens in the park.

The threat - the threat - that Tony has been worrying over for almost ten years is here, and Tony really didn't know how to feel about it.

Part of him was relieved - the wait was over and he no longer had to live with the anxiety of guessing what day it was going to happen - and part of him wanted to throw up and keel over because the wait was over - it was here. Everything Tony has been preparing for was finally happening.

All of a sudden, one of the big aliens with a hammer knocked Tony out of the air, slamming him to the ground and getting ready to bash his armor in. Tony made sure to turn his back to the gigantic hammer, hoping that would help with the blow a bit, but the blow never came.

Tony quickly whipped around, trying to see what stopped the alien, sighing a bit when he saw Peter clad in his Spider-Man suit, holding the alien's hammer back.

Tony doesn't even know why he was shocked about the fact that Peter was out there to help, they've literally had discussions about Peter helping against the next threat and his fear of not being enough.

Tony just hates that Peter has to get roped up into something so big at so young.

"Iron man?" Peter whispers in shock once he turned around and actually saw who it was that he saved.

"No time for intros, Kid," Tony says, pushing Peter out of the way of where the alien's arm was swinging.

"Y-Yeah! Of course!" Peter agrees, webbing the alien up so Tony could blast him with his repulsors.

"What's this guy's problem?" Peter questions.

"There's a wizard with a very important necklace and these guys wanna steal it." Tony dryly replies, watching as Peter got flung by a well-timed punch. Before Tony could even react completely and make sure the teen was okay, Strange was zooming past them completely unconscious and on a slab of floating concrete.

"Kid, that's the wizard. I'm going to need you to grab him, can you do that?" Tony instructs, still trying to focus and destroy the stupid alien in front of him.

"Yeah! On it! I won't let you down!" Peter assures, quickly swinging off after Strange.

Tony continued to blast the alien with his repulsors, getting more and more frustrated as time continued and he wasn't any closer to defeating the damn creature.

"Mr. Iron Man, sir? I-I'm being beamed up!" Peter calls after a bit, shooting fear all throughout Tony's body.

"Hang on, kid! I'm coming." Tony promises, zapping a statue in half, hoping that it falls on the alien would be enough to knock it out.

Thankfully, sensing the urgency, Strange's sidekick sucked the alien into a portal to some other place, giving Tony the chance to blast off in the air and chase Peter.

"Mr. Iron Man? I don't- I can't breathe." Tony hears Peter gasps, the fear building the higher they went. The last thing he needed was for the ship to go too far up into the atmosphere; his suit still could only fly up so far no matter how much he worked on it.

"It's the air, it's thinning out," Tony explains, mostly to remind himself that something needed to be done right then and there. "You gotta let go, Pete. I'll catch you." Tony says as a last resort.

Tony knew as soon as he said Peter's name, the kid would put two and two together, but he couldn't find it in him to care as he continued to push his suit to its limits.

"Mr... Stark?" Peter wheezes out before falling off the side of the ship. As soon as Tony saw that Peter was falling he commanded JARVIS to let loose the nanite Spider-Man suit he's been working on for the past couple of months.

Tony didn't let himself even breathe until he saw the nanites wrap around Peter and the teen was laying safely in Tony's arms.  

"I got you." Tony breathes out, quickly flying them and landing back safely on the spaceship. Figuring that the jig was up, tony flipped his faceplate up and began looking Peter all over to make sure he was okay.

"Kid, you almost gave me a heart attack."

"Me? What about you? You're-You're Iron Man! You've been Iron Man this whole time and you never told me!" Peter accuses causing shame and guilt to wash over Tony. He never wanted to lie to the kid, but admitting who he really was just wasn't in the cards at the time.

"I know, and we can talk about it later. But, right now, I have to go grab Strange and you need to go home." Tony sternly says, making sure there was no room in his tone for arguing. Not that that ever stopped Peter.

"No way! I can't leave you here. I-"

"You've done enough, kid. And I can't let anything happen to you." Tony says as he ruffles Peter's hair before pulling away. "JARVIS?" Tony calls out, and before Peter could continue to protest, a parachute is bursting out of the back of his suit, causing him to fly backward and back to the ground.

Once he was sure that Peter was gone and wasn't going to head up to space with them, Tony turned back to the wall of the spaceship and began lasering a hole that he could get through.

Tony quickly began walking all around the spaceship, eventually finding the middle of it where Strange was. The weird Squidward-looking alien was ranting about the stone around Strange's neck, pushing sharp crystals into Strange's skin.

Tony's attention was ripped off of Strange when he felt a tapping on his shoulder, making him whip around and get his repulsor ready. Tony sighed a bit when he saw that it was only Strange's cloak from before, but it didn't do much to settle him. Especially when a familiar Spider-Kid began to slowly drop down in front of his face.

"Peter? What the hell are you doing here?" Tony all but screams.

The reality of the situation quickly began to sink in, leaving Tony breathless. Peter was here. On this spaceship. That was currently in space.

There is no going home after this, this is it. Tony was fully ready to die up in space, seeing this fight to the very end whether he makes it out alive or not. But everything changes with Peter here. He couldn't prepare to die when he has an actual child to look out for and make sure he gets back to earth safely.

"I couldn't just leave you! How could I do that?" Peter basically cries, giving Tony a pleading look; although Tony wasn't going to give in to it.

"Peter, this isn't a trip to Coney Island. This is a one-way ticket, and now you're-"

"This is a fight for the world. That's why you're here, aren't you?" Peter continues to push, making all of the emotions that were brewing inside of Tony bubble over.

"I'm here for you. I'm here because I've known this day was coming for years and it's been taunting me in the back of my mind for ages, and when Bruce and Strange found me I knew I had to do something, but I also knew that it couldn't be you." Tony rants, running his hands through his hair and taking a deep breath in, trying not to blow up too much at the kid. "You've been talking so much about being worried about doing things on your own, and I knew if you saw this ship, you'd come running. And I couldn't let that happen. But, now you're here anyway and this is just another prime example of me being a Class A screw-up."

"I thought I'd given you this whole hero shtick, you know. After everything happened with Steve and the others, I couldn't do it anymore. And, now, I finally feel like I have a reason to put this suit on and believe in something and now you're here risking your life, and do you see how this is a problem?" Tony stresses, needing Peter to see it realistically instead of having his hero-complex clouding his judgment.

"Mr. Stark," Peter begins, his expression faltering as he tries to hold it together long enough to get his point across to Tony, "that's how I feel about your life too, you know. And I know you want to protect me, but who's going to protect you?"

And, damn, what was Tony supposed to say to that?

He was so far from being used to having a team that actually wanted to have each other's backs instead of every man or themselves. If he had someone this determined on his team, including Strange - who was also extremely stubborn - maybe this could work. Tony would just keep as close of an eye as he could possibly have on Peter.

Anything to get the kid back home to his Aunt after all of this.

After a few moments, Tony relented, pulling Peter close and brainstorming a plan with the teen to get Strange free. For once, the kid's pop culture references were coming in handy, because they were able to suck the alien out through the wall and save Strange.

Now they were on an express route to Titan. A whole 'nother fucking planet. With Peter right by Tony's side.

This is going to be a shitshow. That was all that went through Tony's mind on a loop until a few hours later when Peter finally nudged him in the shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell me you were Iron Man?" Peter finally asks the question Tony was preparing for since they got on this stupid ship.

"I was done with it. I tried to save the world and it cost everything. So I tried to run." Tony admits.

"But if you hated superheroes so much, why did you help me?" Peter asks in a tiny voice, making Tony's heartache once again over the fact that the teen still didn't understand what Tony saw in him. As if Tony hasn't been trying to drill it in the past couple of months.

"Because you're someone who deserves the title." Tony smiles, figuring It was time to tell Peter the truth of how he knew about Spider-Man before even meeting him.

"I'd been looking into you before you crashed into my window. I keep tabs on all the new heroes that crop up, just to make sure they're coloring between the lines, so to speak. I guess maybe I was just trying to make myself feel better like the world wasn't going to die without us punching our way through all our problems. I felt like the city was in good hands, and then I met you, and I knew it was." Tony says, sparing a glance at Peter and having to look away when it looked like the kid was about to start crying.

"The Avengers disappeared because of all sorts of reasons. Thor left to find infinity stones, Bruce ran away because he was afraid of the 'monster' inside of him, Natasha needed a family and I wasn't enough, Clint broke the law, and Steve and I lost all trust so he left and took everyone with him. And when they left, I couldn't look at the suit anymore." Tony continues to word-vomit, finally catching Peter's eye.

"I lost sight of what made me put it on in the first place until you came in. The world is in danger and I can stop it. So I have to do something about it." Tony can't stop the smirk from tugging on the corners of his lips after that bit. "Sound familiar?"

Peter just gave a watery smile in return. "A little."

"I've always been better when I have someone to fight for. I want to protect the world, but I also want to protect you from all this," Tony waves his hand towards the window that showed nothing but empty space, "you don't deserve to be here, Peter. You should be out living teen life, worrying about Spanish tests and girls, and I'm going to make sure you go home to it." Tony promises.

And even though it was a gigantic promise, Tony was willing to give his life to see it through.

"We'll both go home." Peter firmly says, his tone of voice leaving no room for argument. "Because we both deserve it. And I'm sorry about everything that happened with the Avengers, but I'm not going to go anywhere. It's my turn to be there for you now Mr. Stark."

And what the hell was Tony supposed to say to that?

All Tony could do was ruffle Peter's hair and try to push aside his breaking heart with only one thought running through his brain.

I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you don't have to.  

*   *   *

Just being on Titan was enough to have the hair on Tony's body standing on end. Just the reminder that they were in space, that this is the same place Tony saw in his nightmares, was enough to have his anxiety through the roof, but the dread in his body only got worse when Thanos arrived.

The mad titan was exactly that; mad. Almost as soon as Thanos landed on the planet, he was raving about his lost home on the same planet they were standing on; although Tony couldn't care enough to listen to his whole "tragic backstory villain spiel" and apparently neither could everyone else because Stephen was quickly rising with magic swirling around his hands.

Taking that as his cue, Tony blasted off in the air, throwing an entire metal column right on top of Thnaos' head. In retaliation, Thanos began to attack Tony with thousands of black projectiles, which was apparently enough to fuel Peter's fury because the teen began to launch webs into the mad titan's eyes.

Tony tried everything he could while everyone else began to fight to keep an eye on Peter and make sure the teen wasn't getting too deep into the fight. He didn't want to get in the middle of what Peter was doing so he didn't accidentally get him hurt, but it was impossible not to step in once Thanos grabbed the teen by the throat and crushed him into the ground.

Tony instantly saw red and was no longer accountable for his actions. He quickly began to blast Thanos, throwing a bunch of explosives all around him, seething, even more, when he threw Peter away like he was nothing.

Thanos used one of the stones to redirect all of the explosives back at Tony, causing Peter to get amped up once again and run back over to where they were. The teen webbed up Thanos' gauntlet to limit his use of the stones, once again getting thrown to the side.

Tony grabbed a huge chunk of the spaceship and threw it right in Thanos, causing him to tumble to the ground.

Once everyone realized this was the exact moment they needed, they jumped right into action. Strange wrapped the gauntlet up in his magic, Quill threw in a device that pulls Thanos' other hand apart so both his arms were spread out, and Peter began to web up Thanos' chest to try and keep him down.

As soon as Tony was sure Thanos was under control, he flew down and grabbed onto the gauntlet, fully ready to begin yanking on it.

"Sleep." Mantis commands after sitting on Thanos' shoulders, holding her fingers over his temples to make him fall into the trance.

"Peter, get over here. We gotta be quick, she can't hold him much longer." Tony instructs once Thanos for sure stopped resisting it all. Peter dropped his webs and ran over to where Tony was, both of them pulling on the gauntlet with all of their strength.

"Not so strong now, are you?" Quill gloats as he begins walking up to everything, making Tony roll his eyes.

"Alright, toot your own horn later, space-boy, come help us pull this thing off." Tony grits, the gauntlet still only moving an inch off of Thanos' hand.

"He has my girlfriend, I want to know where she is," Quill explains, making Tony's frustration reach its boiling point.

"He won't be answering anything right now, the second we have this thing, though, you'll be able to as him whatever you want. Come on, already!" Tony screams, knowing if something didn't happen right now, this whole plan was going down the drain.

"Quill, I can't hold on much longer." Mantis gasps.

Finally realizing that he needed to give it up, Quill clenched his teeth and reluctantly began helping Tony and Peter yank on the gauntlet. It slowly began to move further, but Tony knew he was going to need a bit more manpower to get it completely off.

"Hey! Blue!" Tony shouts, gaining Nebula's attention. "Wanna help out?" Tony rhetorically asks.

Nebula quickly got the message and ran over to them, helping them all give one last pull. The gauntlet finally came off, causing all four of them to go flying backward.

For a while, Tony just laid on the ground with the gauntlet wrapped firmly in his arms, just trying to process what had exactly happened.

"We did it," Tony whispers in disbelief, "holy shit.

The victory was short-lived, though, because Strange's voice quickly rang through. "Stark! We can't let him get hold of it again."

Knowing exactly what Strange was telling him, Tony got up on his feet and chucked the gauntlet up in the air, grabbing Thanos' hand to help hold him down afterward. Strange didn't waste any time to fly forward and grab the gauntlet; disappearing in sparks of orange once it was all in his clutch.

For a moment, nothing happens. No one really dares to move, trying to figure out if they really did it or not; if it really was that easy.

Tony was looking over his shoulder when it happened - when Quill began to question Thanos once again about his girlfriend - looking Peter up and down just to reassure himself that Peter was still there with him and that he was successful in keeping the teen safe-ish.

All of a sudden, a fight begins to break out, Tony turning back around to see Quill and Drax shooting their guns to try and stave off Thanos' fury.

Thanos - having realized that his gauntlet was now gone - was going on a rampage, tossing everyone who tried to attack him away like they were nearly a piece of paper. He even managed to throw Mantis directly into the ground so hard that the gravel underneath her splintered.

"Stay back, Peter. I mean it." Tony sternly commands. He spent all day making sure the teen made it out of this alive, he wasn't going to risk everything now that they were so close to being sone with all of this.

Tony had his faceplate materialize back over his face, taking a deep breath before going in on Thanos.

Tony made the ovular knife he built within the suit appear out of his wrist, slashing at the mad titan before him. While he was doing that, Tony made all of the missiles loaded in his back shoot at Thanos so he wouldn't be aware of the rest of the attacks coming his way.

Taking Thanos' confusion as his opportunity, Tony threw a souped-up widow's bite at Thanos, making him crumble to his knees. Tony didn't waste time in punching Thano's through some of the rocks there, creating a punching match between the two of them.

Eventually, Tony was able to get a strong enough hit in, sending Thanos to the ground right in front of Nebula. The poor, blue girl didn't even hesitate before taking her sword and stabbing her father clean through his heart, and ending the fight once and for all.

Tony loomed over the purple body, panting and trying to hold himself up now that the adrenaline was leaving him.

Before he could stumble to the ground, Peter was right there, holding him up and giving him a look of adoration and raw love.

"You did it, Mr. Stark. We did it." Peter says, and all Tony could do was pull the teen in for a tight hug and let out a short huff of disbelief.

They did it. It was officially over.

Tony's nightmare that has been living with him, breathing over him, controlling his life, for the past six years, was finally gone.

They did it.

"Yeah. We did." Tony breathes out, still shaking his head in disbelief. "We did it."

"Now let's go home."

*   *   *

Tony was in trouble almost as soon as he got back.

Rhodey and Happy were both waiting for him once he and Peter got back to his apartment, both men looking worried beyond belief.

Rhodey just lectured Tony about how stupid he was going into space alone and how worried they all were while Happy silently agreed and wrapped up all of Tony's injuries.

Rhodey was still lecturing Tony even after Happy finished bandaging him up, making the scientist huff and pull his oldest friend in for a hug. That managed to successfully stop Rhodey from berating him anymore and just left him thankful that Tony was there, alive in his arms.

Since everyone was a bit more settled, Tony was able to finally introduce Rhodey and Happy to Peter, only slightly regretting it when Rhodey pulled Tony to the side and demanded to know if Peter was his secret love child or not.

Eventually, everyone left, needing to get back to responsibilities that the battle only made worse, but Tony was a bit surprised when Peter came back the next day; he figured the kid's Aunt would want him to stay in the apartment for months on end considering he disappeared for the whole day of the battle.

Peter explained that there were quite a few people injured by all the flying debris, though, so his Aunt has been working overtime at the hospital trying to get everyone taken care of.

Of course, that sent Tony into overprotective dad mentor mode - despite him still being bandaged up on the couch - making sure that Peter was comfortable and had everything he needed; even though the kid was adamant that he was able to care for himself for a bit while his Aunt was gone and he only really wanted to check and see how Tony was.

Before they could really even get settled, though, Pepper was barging into the apartment completely unannounced.

Tony just stared at his ex-girlfriend, who stared back, confused about why she was there until she began to shake her head.

"You wonderful idiot." Pepper finally says, plopping down on the couch next to Tony and grabbing his hand.

"I'm so glad you're okay. When I heard about everything that was going on here I just knew that you were going to get involved with it and I just had to get on the next plane and come out here to see if you were okay." Pepper admits, stunning Tony into silence and prompting her to continue.

"I always knew you weren't going to stop until everything that was haunting you was taken care of, and as much as it killed me having to watch you constantly put yourself into the ring of fire, I'm so glad to be able to see you become the man I knew you always were," Pepper says, gently taking Tony's hand into hers.

"I'm so glad to see you be able to rest, now."

Tony wasn't even sure if he could say anything to that, his throat closing in response to all of Pepper's kind words and with the realization of how much he truly missed her presence.

It's not until later on in the day - several hours later when he and Pepper ran out of things to catch up on and Pepper had sent him to bed - that Tony realized Peter had left.

Although, Peter didn't allow too much time in-between for Tony to begin missing him, because the teen was back the very next day and was adamant about taking care of him.

"Kid, I'm fine, I promise." Tony exasperatedly says as Peter brings out an omelet and a cup of coffee made exactly how Tony liked it.

"Any more of this overbearing nonsense and I'll have to go find another bad guy's ass to kick." Tony threatens once Peter begins to change his bandages. Although, Peter must not have appreciated the faux threat because he glared right at tony as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Don't even joke," Peter says before settling down on the couch next to Tony, stiff as a board.

Tony just continued to stare at Peter, watching as the teen would glance at him before looking away and fighting his shirt, only to repeated the process.

"What?" Tony huffs.

"Nothing! It's nothing!" Peter tries to deny it, deflating a bit when he saw the unimpressed and unconvinced look on Tony's face.

"Okay, it's not nothing, but it's not a big deal," Peter relents a little, hunching in on himself as he asks his question. "I was just wondering if... if this means Iron Man's back."

Which, out of all of the questions Peter had about Iron Man, this was the easiest one for tony to answer.

"Yeah. I'm back." Tony replies without hesitation. "I used to think it was about the suit, that that was the special thing. The heroic thing. But it isn't. I am Iron Man, and I always will be." Tony honestly says, letting Peter in on what he was thinking about for the past couple of days.

Looking over at the teen, Tony saw Peter smiling so wide at the conformation that Tony was almost positive the kid's face would split in two. The reaction just made Tony huff and roll his eyes, fully ready to dismiss everything he had said.

"Plus, someone has to keep an eye out on you. I have a heart condition, you should know that by now." Tony teases, making Peter fake groan.

"Oh, my God, you just want to babysit me!" Peter pretends to complain, the happiness shining in his eyes giving his true feelings away.

"What can I say? You're a handful, Parker." Tony continues to tease, grabbing the cup of coffee Peter had made for him. "Sorry to cramp your style." Tony apologizes, despite not actually feeling sorry.

"Nah, you fit just right, Mr. Stark."

*   *   *

Two Months Later 

*   *   *

'Mr. Stark, it appears, Peter's vitals are entering dangerous levels.' Karen chimes in, making Tony put down his soldering iron.

"Pull up his vital readings for me, will ya, baby girl?" Tony asks, sighing when he read over Peter's vital signs. "Put him through for me, please, Karen."

"Hey, Mr. Stark!" Peter greets as soon as Karen connects them, trying to keep a smile on his face to convince Tony that he was alright.

"You can quit the charm, I see your oxygen levels decreasing by the second," Tony replies woodenly, completely unimpressed with the teen at the moment. Of course, Peter just continued to chuckle awkwardly, still trying to convince Tony that everything was hunky-dory.

"It's fine. Everything's fine! I'm just- you know - on the back of a helicopter. But it's chill! Haha, get it." Peter jokes, wincing when there was no response.

Finally, realizing that if Peter was already that far into it, he wasn't going to be able to let the whole mission go, Tony sighed.

"Bring 'em down, Spiderling, and then come over so I can check on you." Tony eventually relents.

"Yes! Okay! Gotcha!" Peter agrees, nodding so hard to show his understanding Tony was surprised his head didn't pop clean off.

"Be careful, kid," Tony warns.

"Always, Mr. Stark!"

Tony sat there for a second after the call ended, rubbing his face and letting all his worry flow out with the deep breath he released.

"Karen, connect with JARVIS and give me a live feed of the fight," Tony commands as he begins putting his tools away, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to focus on anything else other than making sure Peter was safe.

‘Will do!’ The A.I agrees, a holographic video popping up right after.

Tony didn't tear his eyes off of the video for even a second, watching every movement to make sure Peter was doing okay; he even had one of his suits on standby just in case Peter needed him to step in and help.

Once the fight seemed to be wearing down, Tony made his way out to the living room and began ordering some take-out, knowing for a fact that the spider-kid was going to be starving and attempting to eat him out of house and home if he didn't do so.

Timing it perfectly had Tony paying for the take-out just as Peter was coming in through the balcony.

"Is that Thai? Yes!" Peter cheers once Tony turns around, making the older man tut.

"Ah, ah, ah, first, injury report."

"I'm fine! Promise. Even ask Karen." Peter groans, Tony looking the kid up and down just to be sure.

"Fine, I'll believe you. But I will be checking later." Tony relents, only because he watched the video and didn't see anything too life-threatening occurred. "Now, go grab some plates; I'm starving."

"Where's Miss Pepper? She's usually home by now." Peter points out while doing what he was told.

"She has her hands full with the whole 'Iron man is revealed to be yours truly' thing." Tony frowns, shaking his head as he takes the offered plate. "I swear Stephen did it on purpose; dropping us in the middle of the city like that."

Peter just snorted before responding, "I really don't think that was what he was thinking about. I feel like it was more the infinity stones he had? The ones he had to scatter to keep the entire universe safe? Remember that?"

"Details." Tony brushes off as they began to dig into the food and pile their plates as high as they would go.

As they did so, Tony couldn't help but begin to think about everything. About every single little thing that he had now all because of one little thing.

How his biggest nightmare - the thing that constantly dictated every decision in his life - was finally over, how he and Pepper were finally able to talk things out and get back together, how he was happily Iron Man and people actually knew and were happy about it. How he was no longer so lonely that he had no idea how he was going to get by day by day. All because of one little thing.

All because some random ass kid from Queens broke into his apartment and almost bleed out on his couch.

Tony couldn't hold his laugh in at the realization even if he wanted to.

"What?" Peter questions, making Tony laugh even harder at the defensiveness in the teen's tone.

"Nothing. It's nothing. I'm just remembering that you broke into my place and then tried to offer to buy me a new couch."

"Hey! I was stabbed and I was tired and, in my defense, you have the same exact apartments!" Peter defends before looking back down at his plate and mumbling, "And I totally would've bought you a new couch."

Looking at the teen, Tony couldn't feel any more grateful than he did right there. Peter saved him in more ways than one and Tony was almost positive the kid had no idea about it; which didn't sit right with Tony.

"I was dying when you met me. I know I didn't look it, but deep down, where everything counted, I was a mess. But you inspired something in me, kid. And I think it's important you know that. I wasn't alright, and now," Tony gave the stunned teen a small smile, "well, I think I'm doing pretty okay."

Tony didn't even have time to prepare before Peter was launching himself at him and wrapping him in a tight hug.

"You changed my life, Mr. Stark. Even from way before I met you. And I never say it, but thanks for always being in my corner. You've never let me down. Ever. And you're the only- the only one who gets it. Really gets it, I mean." Peter rambles in return, Tony holding the teen as close as he could.

"Jesus, when did this get so mushy." Tony jokes. Just because everything else has changed and Tony was getting better, doesn't mean that he was getting better with feelings and emotions.

"Well, you started it." Peter laughs as he pulls away.

"Hush you. And hurry up and finish, I have a cool project in the workshop waiting." Tony dangles the offer, making Peter perk up instantly.

"Do we get to make things explode?"

"Of course we are. What do I look like to you, a heathen?" Tony replies as if suggesting any other type of project was completely preposterous.

"Okay! Okay! I'm almost done."

"God, finally. Then I'll get the hot chocolate started and-" Tony begins to say.

"-I'll make the coffee." Peter finishes, making Tony smile once again.

Later on in the day, when they've made enough explosives to blow NATO out of the water, Peter decided that them actually managing to get a couple of lines of code written was a good stopping point.

Tony watched as the kid began to put on his backpack, deciding that it was now or never to give him the envelope he's been holding onto for weeks now.

Peter just stares at Tony curiously, which meant that Tony got to see the exact moment what was in the envelope clicked in Peter's head.

Peter quickly began to rip the envelope open, sucking in a quick breath of air when he pulled out a key.

"I figure it was time to stop breaking in whenever you want to come over. Consider this an official open-door invitation." Tony shrugs, hoping that if he remained nonchalant Peter won't make it a gigantic deal.

"Mr. Stark, that's-"

Tony instantly held up a finger to stop Peter from finishing his sentence, knowing exactly what the teen was about to say. "If you say it's too much I might have to throw out all your hot chocolate."

Peter just laughed at the fake threat, knowing Tony wouldn't even try to do anything of the sort. "You wouldn't. But what I was going to say before you just assumed you knew everything was finally. Scaling the building every time was getting really lame."

"You know what, I take it back. Give it here, Parker." Tony teases, pretending to hold his hand out expectantly. In return, Peter let out a cackle as he jumped away from Tony, practically booking it out of the lab.

"No take-backs!" Peter yells, turning back around right before walking out the door completely. "And I'm coming over early on Tuesday to help you with your dinner party thing, don't forget!" Peter reminds.

"Well it doesn't matter, does it? Just let yourself in." Tony says, his chest warming at the smile the teen gave him in return as he left Tony alone once again in his workshop.

For several years, Tony had been alone. He knew he was going to be alone the day he decided to disappear and to run away from all of his problems until they all eventually caught up to him. He was prepared to be alone once everything fell apart.

But now, as he stood there all alone in his workshop, for the first time in a very long time, Tony felt anything but.

Tag List: @spideyspeaches @lost-lunar-wolf @joyful-soul-collector @i-love-my-selfinserts @thatcrackheadsadbitchtm

[avaalons]

Chris Evans Fic: Feels Like the First Time (NSFW)

Anonymous request! Be warned, this is basically a gajillion words long and it’s 95% foreplay. Also 100% NSFW.

I love your stuff! How about something where Chris is readers’ first and she has anxiety and is very insecure both about it being her first time AND about her body? And Chris does his best to convince her that there’s nothing wrong with her body and he loves her ❤

***

It always got to this point. You were in the middle of a hot and heavy make out session, sandwiched between the sofa and Chris, his weight pinning you as he worked his magic against your mouth.

You could feel excitement and arousal blossoming below your belly, the heat seeping through your body and warming you right down to your fingertips. He normally kept his hands in ‘safe’ areas: your face and neck, hips and ribs, no where that would spike your anxiety. You were eternally grateful and considered yourself blessed beyond belief that he was understanding and patient, but the thing was, you knew in your heart that you wanted to go further now, but that your head was stopping you.

You were nervous, and no matter how long you’d been with Chris, no matter how much he showed you his true feelings through his actions and his words, no matter how much you wanted him to be able to just throw you down and take you, no matter how much you dreamed of it when you were alone in your bed, your body just wouldn’t relax enough for it to happen. So when his fingers absentmindedly trailed under the waistband of your jeans, dipping lower than was usual, every muscle in your body stood to attention and you knew he could feel the stiffness and tension in you.

‘Sorry,’ he whispered, snapping his hand back to a safe area, ‘Just got carried away.’

'Don’t apologise,’ you told him sincerely, 'I want to. I think about it all the damn time but I just can’t when it’s for real. It’s like there’s a block in my brain. Suddenly all I can think about it being naked and every single insecurity I have bands together and stops anything fun.’

He pulled his head back slightly to raise an eyebrow at you, his fingers doing a delicate dance across your jawbone.

'It’s the being naked part that bothers you? Not the whole not-having-had-sex-before part?’

You giggled at this straight forward question and silently thanked whatever greater power there was that sent this awesome man to you, totally unfazed by the fact you’d managed to make it to 29 years old and had avoided sex the whole time.

'I think so. Whenever the anxiety rears its head, it’s always about being naked. I guess the two things are linked really, but yeah, it’s mainly about my body.’

He gazed at you for a moment and you could practically see the cogs turning in his mind as he processed this new information and sought a solution.

'Well, I happen to love your body, but I know that me just saying the words doesn’t do an awful lot on its own. So… if you weren’t naked, or couldn’t tell you were naked, would that make it easier to get past the mental block?’

You thought for a moment, trying to imagine a scenario and you realised that maybe, maybe it could just work.

'I think so, maybe. But I don’t want to say for definite… what if it doesn’t work and we’re already, you know, part way there and we have to stop?’

'Then we’ll stop, simple as that. Do you actively want to have sex? With me?’ he smirked as his own quick clarification and you laughed.

'Like, probably verging on desperately so.’

'Right, let’s do something about it. Can’t have my girl not getting what she wants.’

He hauled himself up and held out a hand for you. You placed yours in his and allowed him to pull you up to standing. He pulled you to him, body flush against his and he dipped his head to capture your mouth with his, deep and slow and sensual enough to make you melt against him, calming all that nervous energy that had been building up during the conversation. He began walking you backwards towards his bedroom, kissing you all the while as you clung to his broad shoulders to stay upright.

Before you knew it, you were flat against his bed sheets, his familiar weight pinning you again. This was okay, this there was no problem with, this was just like being on the sofa. You refused to let yourself think about the inevitable moment when your muscles stiffened up and let you go no further. You just wanted to enjoy it. This was everything, being with Chris. He made you feel wanted, adored, beautiful, he really did, and the rational part of you knew it. It was those deep-rooted, auto-pilot fears that were the problem: a learned behaviour that was practically instinct now, despite your significant feelings for Chris. That’s what he was battling against, not your own active consciousness.

But suddenly he was gone. You blinked in surprise, a deep breath filling your lungs as though you’d just surfaced from the ocean. You saw him rifling in his closet and you were more than a little confused.

'Chris?’ you called out questioningly, propping your upper body up on your elbows.

'Just give me a second…’ his voice was muffled from being surrounded by clothes before he spoke again, more to himself than to you, 'There it is, gotcha.’

He emerged from the closet holding a silk tie between his hands, looking very pleased with himself. You couldn’t help the laugh that burst forth as your mind immediately jumped to conclusions.

'And just what do you plan on doing with that?’ you asked him, a little shocked, 'I hope you’re not planning on going all Fifty Shades of Grey on me. Will I be needing a safe word?’

Confusion crossed his features for a moment before realisation dawned and he flicked the tie out towards you with a grin, letting it snap in the air with a satisfying crack.

'What, not ready for Christian Grey levels of kinkiness?’ He collected the material in his hands and approached you, the mattress dipping under him as he sat, 'Don’t worry, I’m wasn’t going to tie you up with it. I just thought it would suffice as a blindfold.’

You raised an eyebrow, 'And that’s suppose to make me feel better?’

He shrugged, 'It might? I want you to see yourself through my eyes, the way I see you, so I think I need to temporarily block your own vision. Stop your own negative image of yourself taking over.’

'Oh,’ you were slightly surprised as you mulled it over. Could this work?

'What do you think?’ he asked, voice soft and gentle, 'If you’re not into it, just say so. It was just an idea. We can just dry hump with our clothes if you want, take it old school. I’d just really, really, really like to give you an orgasm today, if that’s okay with you?’

You giggled again, and you knew he was sincere. Always about you and your pleasure. Never about him.

You gazed at him steadily as you worried the inside of your cheek with your tongue in thought. Eventually, you took a deep breath and made your decision.

'Let’s do it. Give it a go. Got nothing to lose, right? Only my virginity,’ you joked with a grin, which he returned in kind.

'You sure? Any time you want me to slow down or stop, just tell me.’

'Chris,’ you sat up properly and lay a hand against his face, resting on his beard, 'I trust you. I want this, really. I just want to enjoy myself.’

'Well that, I can definitely do. Turn around for me.’

You shifted so your back was to him and he wound the soft material of the tie around your head. You caught it and placed the tie securely over your eyes as he tied the ends together at the back of your head, careful not to tangle your hair in it. His hands were on your shoulders once he was done, gently turning you back around.

'That feel okay?’

'Yeah. Yes,’ you croaked out. The darkness, the limiting of your senses suddenly heightened the atmosphere more than you ever thought possible. Anticipation pooled in your belly.

You felt him take your hands in his, and then his lips were on yours again, the blindfold allowing him to take you by surprise. You were only connected by your fingers and your lips and it took mere minutes before your body was craving more of his touch. Now you couldn’t see him, it was like you needed contact even more, like you needed to see with your skin instead of your eyes. But you also wanted him to lead the way.

Slowly, his hands left yours and you felt them cupping your jaw.

'I love kissing you. I love how you respond to me and how sensitive you are to my touch. I love how your face fits perfectly in my hands and I can just hold you to me.’

His mouth was close: you could feel your skin tingling from the almost contact as he travelled to your neck. You instinctually stretched your head to the side to give him better access as he peppered the skin just under your ear with tickling, ghosting kisses.

'I love kissing you here and the way it sends a little shiver down your back. I love burying my face in your hair - it always smells so good. I want it to linger on my pillows so I still sense you long after you’ve left for the day.’

Your heartbeat was increasingly pounding against your chest under his ministrations. He was slow and careful and you felt like something so very precious.

He ran one finger across your collar bones, peeking out of the v neck of your tshirt.

'I could kiss you here all day, and it takes everything I have to remember not to leave a mark.’

You whimpered a little at that, your back arching towards his touch as it sent messages of pleasure pinging to all your nerve endings. Chris ran his hands down the sides of your tshirt, carefully skimming your bra, before settling at the top of your hips.

'I love holding you here. I love tucking you into my body and how easily my hands fit against your waist.’

He dipped his hands under the hem of your tshirt to skim your overheated skin. His fingers drifted upwards, over the ridges of your ribs and back down again, igniting flames across your skin with every circuit. When you felt his thumbs glide across the sensitive skin under the wiring of your bra, you knew your tshirt must be rucked up against his arms by now and when you felt a finger ghost the valley between your breasts, you knew for sure that you were very much on display.

'If you lift your arms up for me, I can take your tshirt off,’ he whispered, stating it as a simple fact. Not asking, not telling, just waiting for you to do whatever you were comfortable with.

You nodded hesitantly before lifting your arms up slowly. He dragged the material upwards and over your head, careful not to disturb the blindfold and you heard a soft thud as it landed somewhere on the floor. That was it, one item of clothing gone, but you were so warm so could barely even tell. His hands were back on your ribs and he went back to kissing your mouth, doing the familiar and well practised things so you weren’t overwhelmed with new feelings all at once.

'Okay?’ he whispered against your mouth, foreheads resting together.

'Mmhm,’ was all you could manage, focused as you were on sensation and arousal.

There was a strong hand and arm suddenly winding its way up your back and then you were being tipped towards the mattress. You gripped his upper arms as you went, anticipating the feel of the cool sheets against the (bare!) skin of your back.

You knew he would be able to see the vast majority of your upper torso now, except for what was covered by your bra. Your stomach and hips had never exactly been a source of intense pride for you. You’d always been a somewhat lanky kid until puberty had hit with a vengeance. You went from willowy long limbs to money-making curves practically over night and you’d been left with angry red lines across your hips as evidence of your quick transformation. They, of course, had faded over time, but you knew full well the silvery tracks were still visible.

'I really love these glorious curves of yours. I see them taunting me when you wear a dress,’ his hands travelled across your skin as he spoke, following the peaks and valleys of your body.

His lips were on you then, leaving hot, wet, open mouthed kisses against your skin where you new he must now be able to see stretch marks, and when he pulled back and gently blew on the connections his tongue had made with you, the sensation of coolness against the heat of your body was ridiculously intense. Your hands hunted blindly for his head, your fingers threading through his hair as he lavished all your most hated bits with glorious attention.

Under his care, you felt your worries and anxieties mattering less and less. You had no top on and he hadn’t run away screaming. In fact, he’d gone straight back in with this mouth. He made you feel attractive and you could tell he was attracted to you, it was clear in the way he treated you. It was a revelation.

But, the traitorous side of your brain reminded you, you still have to get your pants off and you still needed to actually have sex. What if it came to crunch time and suddenly, it wasn’t your insecurities with your body at all but that they were just an convenient excuse covering up the fact that your body wasn’t built to have sex. What if you just couldn’t do it?

Chris must have felt your hands tense against his scalp, must have been paying attention to any slight change in your body, because he was straight back up to you, pulling the tie up off your eyes so you could look at him, blinking as your eyes adjusted to the light.

'Hey, hey. Do you want to stop? Is that enough for one day?’

'No, no, I just… started thinking ahead again, instead of enjoying the moment.’

'What’s the problem?’

'What if we get - there - and it turns out the whole body insecurity thing was just a cover and actually it’s sex that’s the problem?’

'Then I’ll stop. Seriously. The millisecond you feel anything other than sheer pleasure, we stop. How do you feel now?’

You were silent for a moment, trying to scope out your actual feelings. You felt… good. Alive. Very warm and wet in certain parts.

'I want to carry on. I was feeling really fucking good until my brain took over.’

'Pesky brain,’ he smiled affectionately at you as he brushed a lock of hair away from your face.

'Why do you even put up with this? This is a lot of work for a very much not-guaranteed outcome,’ you asked him, voice low and unsure.

'You serious? This is so far from work, I can’t even tell you. I care about you and I want you to feel good, whatever that is. The actual outcome doesn’t matter. I’m not trying to push you towards an end game here. There’s an entire future ahead here so we can do as much or as little as we want. There’s no rush.’

And with those words, you felt the ball of insecurity dull in intensity. You realised you’d been so focused on the time aspect, thinking that there needed to be sex to continue the relationship, that without it he would just check out of it, that you hadn’t even realised he was happy to go entirely at your pace. There wasn’t a deadline on this, and that gave you a whole new perspective.

'Chris, I…’ you looked at him in something like wonder.

'What’s up, sweetheart?’

'Could you… could you just take my jeans off please?’

Your unexpected response drew a laugh from him and he leaned down you kiss you.

'I certainly can. Blindfold on or off?’

'On, I think. I might take it off later.’

He nodded and kissed you again before tugging it back down over your eyes. He set back to work, trailing kisses in a line down your body as he went, until he reached the waistband of your jeans. You felt a slight pressure against your lower belly as he popped the button open, still pressing kisses against your skin. The slide of your zipper thrummed against your already sensitive lower body. You felt him hook his fingers around the waistband and you lifted your hips slightly so he could pull them down your legs. He went slowly, placing kisses against your thighs with every inch that was revealed to him. And then they were gone.

You expected to him to return to your lower half but instead you felt his weight on top of your whole body again. You blindly grabbed at him, eventually able to wind your hands around his neck as he settled on top of you.

'Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?’ his deep voice reverberated against your lips.

'You make me feel like I am,’ you confessed quietly.

He crushed his mouth to yours and you were lost in him. You barely noticed when he flipped you over and you were on top of him, straddling his legs, steadying yourself with your palms against his chest. You pulled up your blindfold to look at him in surprise only to find him leaning back against the pillows, hands tucked behind his head, with a very smug smile on his face indeed.

'You could warn a girl!’ you told him, the dizziness finally subsided now you could see.

'I could, but I didn’t feel like it,’ he explained nonchalantly.

You were a little stuck for what to do now. You were prepared for him to take control so you could simply follow but now you were on top, both literally and figuratively.

'What do I do now I’m here?’ you asked tentatively.

'Whatever you want. You’re the naked one after all,’ he nodded towards you and you instantly glanced down at your body expecting to see underwear but finding only skin. You were too baffled to remember to be self conscious.

'How did you…?’ you asked with a disbelieving laugh.

'I’m a ninja. Or a magician, you decide. But while you’re deciding, do you think you could help me off with my clothes? I’m feeling overdressed.’

You were naked. Naked. Straddling a man. A ridiculously handsome, funny, sensitive man with a body like a Greek god. Who wanted to be naked with you. And it felt amazing. You could feel the solid muscle of his chest under your finger tips and the rough denim of his jeans against the inside of your thighs. You wanted him. Badly.

You surveyed his body, wondering where to start. You slid your fingertips under the hem of his tshirt where it had ridden up, exposing a strip of skin. You could feel the quivering of his muscles and it dawned on you that the anticipation was affecting him as much as it was you.

When your gaze flickered back up to meet his, his expression had changed from playful to serious.

'What do you want, baby?’

'Sit up for me.’

He rose easily, his core muscles contracting as he pulled himself upright. You were cradled in his lap, exposed and vulnerable, but thoroughly able to trust him. You made quick work of pulling his tshirt up and he took over to tug it over his head, ball it up and throw it across the room. You started with his shoulders, running your hands over the broad width of him, marvelling in the strength you could feel. Chris left you to your explorations and you leant forward to place light, experimental kisses against his shoulders and collar bones.

His palm strayed to your jaw, leading your face upwards to his.

'You amaze me, you know that?’

'Not as much as you amaze me.’

His fingertips danced down your neck, over your breasts, down over your ribs and settled for a moment near your hip before continuing along your thigh, running delicate circles that drew further to the sensitive inside with every rotation.

'Remember, just tell me to stop and I will,’ he whispered into the shell of your ear before placing a kiss underneath the lobe.

You nodded and swallowed thickly, barely able to stand the tension. You throbbed with need and we’re desperate to relieve the pressure. A few more tickling rotations and he was almost there. Your thumbs dug into his shoulders as your grip tightened. Chris used his free arm to wrap around the small of your back to keep you close to him and then, finally he touched you.

Your body lurched against his arm reflexively and a high pitched gasp was drawn from your throat. You were so tightly wound and needy that the first contact his finger made with the bud of your clit sent a power surge through you. Your eyes widened as the first touch grew more pressing, the circles he’d drawn on your leg continuing now over hot and swollen flesh. Pleasure bloomed in the pit of your belly almost immediately and you found yourself holding your breath intermittently, it coming in hitched gasps when you remembered to exhale.

One finger was joined by another, and dipping lower and lower, drawing all that pleasure from you and spreading it over the full length of you. Then he began to tease your entrance, and your hips began to move of their own volition, undulating shallowly against his hand.

'You’re okay baby, I’ve got you,’ he promised as he inserted one finger into your slick heat, slow and gentle so your body could get used to the intrusion, 'Okay?’

You nodded quickly, assuring him you had never been better, and with that he began to pull out, just as slowly, before going back in, picking up the pace slightly. He repeated the motion over and over again, steady but relentless, only allowing you to focus on the delicious slide of his finger in and out of you, winding you tighter and tighter.

'Ready for another?’

You nodded again, 'Yes. Yes.’

'Tell me if it’s too much,’ he reminded you again, as he pulled almost all the way out of you. The next time he went in, he added another of his fingers and you felt the difference immediately. The stretch only intensified the swelling of pleasure and you closed your eyes, your head lolling back as you gave in to the sensation. The coil was almost ready to unravel as his fingers curved upwards and his thumb brushed your clit. The spring was released, your muscles clenching violently around his hand as a long, satisfied moan fell from your lips. You slumped against him, his fingers drawing every last ounce of climax from you, the aftershocks making your muscles twitch in reflex.

He withdrew his hand and you pushed yourself back to look him in the face, clasping his jaw between your palms and plunging forwards to kiss him deeply.

'You good?’ he asked when you pulled back.

'I’m so far beyond good, it’s unreal.’

He chuckled lightly, 'Glad to be of service.’

'What do we do now?’

He shrugged, still grinning, 'Whatever you want. We can just lie here for a bit? Want to watch a movie?’

You paused a moment. A movie? You’d just experienced your genuine sexual awakening and he thought you wanted to watch a movie?

'Chris… you’ve still got your jeans on. And you’ve not…’

'I’ve got no expectations. This is about you.’

'I want to have sex with you,’ you told him definitively.

'Right now?’

'Right now.’

'Okay then. Well, if you wouldn’t mind just moving a moment,’ and you squealed in surprise as scooped his hands under your ass and plopped you down on the mattress before standing up, 'I’ll just de-robe.’

He made quick work of stepping out of his jeans as you watched on. He was bold and shameless in his nakedness, pulling his boxer briefs down without ceremony and allowing you only a second or two to look at the, admittedly slightly intimidating, length of him before launching himself on to the mattress next to you, wrapping his hands around your hips and tugging you down next to him, mouths clashing, bodies colliding.

'Dork,’ you laughed.

'Maybe so, but you’re the one stuck with me so who’s the real loser here?’

You shoved against his shoulder as he rolled you under him, the tone suddenly shifting to one of reverence. He simultaneously leaned down to kiss you and inserted his fingers back into your heat, still sensitive from your orgasm only minutes earlier. He swallowed your gasp as he began to move in and out, not aiming for climax with his fingers this time, but preparing you. His scissored his fingers, stretching you and manipulating your body, all the while keeping his mouth on yours, tongue sweeping against your lower lip, slow and languid against yours.

Your breathing hitched again at the incredible sensations and you suddenly reminded yourself that you had a part to play here too. You trailed a hand down his body, and when it reached its destination, you wrapped a delicate hand around his dick, feeling rather than hearing his moan against your mouth. He pulled back to look you in the eye.

'You’re not supposed to be working here,’ he pretended to scold you.

'I’d hardly describe this as work,’ you told him, echoing his sentiments from earlier, 'Besides, it might not be very good. I don’t really know what I’m doing.’

He shook his head in amazement before guiding you slightly, 'You’re doing great so far babe, I promise. Just… stay light and smooth. A thumb on the tip would be much appreciated.’

You listened closely and experimented with varying grips, running your thumb over the tip when you pumped to the top, feeling him smooth and silky under your touch.

You both took your time, knowing there was so rush, revelling in slow, lazy foreplay. Chris kissed you what felt like everywhere, swirling a tongue over your nipples and grinning when your back arched against him.

You were ready, you could feel it. You wanted him so badly, wanted him inside you, filling you. He seemed to sense it too and pulled your arm up, stopping your ministrations.

'I’m going to go slow,’ he told you, 'Just say the word if…’

'Chris,’ you breathed, barely recognising your own voice, 'I’m not going to want to stop, I swear.’

His dick was at your entrance, you could feel it. He reached down to grip himself to line up accurately. All you would have had to do was shift your hips forward and he’d be in you.

'Ready?’ he asked once more.

You nodded. Finally, finally it was happening.

His hips edged forwards, stretching you even more. The slow pace allowed you to feel it all, the fullness feeling like relief. You were silent and still and Chris intertwined his fingers with yours, foreheads pressed together, eyes locked as he pushed in to the hilt. He gave you a few seconds to get used to the feeling of him being there and then he began to thrust and you were lost.

Nothing had ever felt like this before and he was incredible. He kept everything unpredictable, slightly changing his angle, switching up the pace, and he held you fast. You could do nothing but focus on him and what he was doing to you.

'Jesus, you feel so good,’ his voice was strained through effort and somewhere at the back of your mind, you wondered how much he was holding back.

'Chris…,’ you practically sobbed, completely giving in to the building throbbing pleasure.

'I know baby, I know. I promise you I will always make it feel this good.’

He pulled your hands up far above your head, stretching your whole body out under his until you were taut like an elastic band. Still he thrust, his movements smooth and undulating rather than pistoning in and out like you’d always imagined sex would be, and before you ever thought would be humanly possible, you felt the tightening in your belly, the pressure building and building until there was the snap. You moaned long and hard, a rushing noise filling your ears, your walls of muscle tight around him, clamping and releasing, words incoherent except for his name and you felt him collapse against you as his own climax hit.

He thrust against you shallowly and without much rhythm as he milked both your orgasms for all they worth and you panted against each other, planting lazy, inaccurately placed kisses against whatever skin you could reach as you came down.

You both lay there for a few minutes, still interlocked, making out lazily as the aftershocks subsided and your vision cleared. You carded your fingers through his hair, a loving caress, as he kissed and kissed you.

Eventually, he pulled out carefully and lay at your side, rolling you to face him, twining his legs with yours.

'How do you feel?’ Chris was still concerned, even now.

'Like I’m on a cloud,’ you giggled.

'Yeah?’ He grinned, 'Thank god.’

'What do you mean?’ you were puzzled.

'Imagine if I’d been shit and put you off sex for life!’

'Definitely not the case. I’m more than satisfied,’ you promised.

'Me too,’ he leaned forward to kiss the tip of your nose before cradling your body against his, sated and content.

You lay there for a few moments in comfortable silence, knowing that this was just the beginning, that if this bit had been amazing, it was only going to get better from now on.

Chris closed his eyes, weariness seeping in and you tried to do the same but you were too wired.

'Shouldn’t we clean up?’ You asked, not really sure where all this knowledge had actually come from.

'I’ll go get a washcloth in a second, let me just regain some strength,’ he never opened his eyes. You propped your head up on an elbow, gazing at him fondly, tracing the peaks and troughs of his ribs idly. He was so masculine, so in control, but here he was, worn out by you. The thought filled you with glowing pride and it made you bold.

You leaned forward until your mouth was next to his ear.

'I guess this means we can’t do it again tonight,’ you baited him in your most gravelly voice.

His eyes instantly snapped open and he grinned at you.

'Unbelievable!’ he exclaimed.

'What is?’

'You’re an insatiable sexual monster! Came twice and now asking for more!’

You laughed heartily at his mock outrage, elation spreading through you.

'If I am, Mr Evans, it’s entirely your fault!’

[oceaneducation]

There are moments in life, that you have dreamt about for years. Doing a TEDx talk and becoming part of the inspiring global TED community was one of them. And then, as the saying goes, "Life is what happens, while you are busy making other plans". 

Whilst I could prepare the message of the talk, I was unable to deliver it in the way I had pictured it. After I have agonized until today about whether I should share the experience and message or not, I decided to post about it anyway. 

Although after several attempts I had to use my notes to deliver the talk, although neither mentally nor physically I was feeling at ease that day, I stand by my decision to go forward with the talk on that day and not cancel. 

Despite the subpar performance, the message is much bigger than these 18 min, bigger than my personal failure, bigger than my individual limited lifetime. It`s about human community and how we can all come together to protect the ocean. Thank you dear TEDx UniMannheim team for inviting me on 10th October to "Perfectly Imperfect" and showing such understanding, compassion and support. 

Thank you to the other speakers, who cheered me on that day, especially Gigi. And thank you to my brothers, who showered me with positive energy as always are also responsible for the best gift I have ever received - my spirit animal Totoro, who of course was also with me on the red carpet. 

Here is the video, in case you want to watch it. Unfortunatly due to technical glitches the quality is not so good https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NoeefnFIlN4 Below is the complete text of the talk. I hope I can bring the message across this way. #

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Who is allowed to save the ocean?

Good afternoon everyone,for the duration of the talk, I want you, dear audience, to imagine that you are the ocean:

You are vast, beautiful, strong.You are home to around 70% of all life on earth.You are mysterious - 91% of ocean species, your children, are unknown to humanity.You cover 71% of the Earth’s surface.You are the cradle of existence, life began in you, around 3 billion years ago.Thanks to YOU, all life on Earth can breathe and exist. 

Oh what's that, you feel unwell? Climate change is making you warmer, rise up, acidic.Humans are polluting you with plastics, noise and chemicals.Your children, the plants and animals, are being captured, killed andencaged.

How can you be set free from these worries and problems?How can you feel secure and happy?So you need help, right?Who will rescue you?Aliens? Cats? Or maybe – Batman?Jokes aside.The pain you are suffering is caused by humans.So it would have to be one of them who decides to come to your rescue.So a human then.Who would you like to be saved by?How would they look?Does it even matter?Chances are, the only ones that will show up for your rescue, no matter what your answer is, are white humans, most likely men.

So you wonder, dear ocean, what happened to the rest?Weren't they motivated enough to help you?Let me explain to you, why they could not show up:When humans hear the word „human“, the first thing that comes to their minds is a white man, or a white person.White people are what is seen as the standard, the norm.Search Google for „marine conservationist“, and images of mostly white people pop up.Yet, Earth currently accommodates 7.8 billion people, of which nearly two-thirds live in Asia and 17% in Africa.

Biodiversity, which is linked to the health of ecosystems, is something that human conservationists focus on.But human diversity itself is missing.How can humans acknowledge the worth of other beings, if they fail to do so in each other?These “other” humans want to help you too, dear ocean, but it will take them longer to get to you.

Let's imagine, being able to protect you, is a prize at the end of a game.I know, don‘t blush, it is very flattering.When I was little, my family used to play a game called „snakes andladders“.It's a game where there are ladders that help you to advance faster, and snakes that slow you down.Whoever makes it to the end of the playing field, dear ocean, as weassume in this case, can contribute to your rescue.

The game stands for the ups and downs of my life:My quest to marine conservation, the struggles in terms of women's rights and racism, as an example for a Woman of Color.I also explore systemic obstacles Women of Color are more likely to face when they want to protect you.You will see, dear ocean, how everything is connected and why a large portion of humanity currently cannot come to your rescue.BTW, I love snakes, so please, dear snakes, don`t take it personally that you are playing the villain in this scenario. 

My parents fled Sri Lanka in 1983 because of the Tamil genocide.The snake was already rearing its head.They ended up in a refugee camp in Germany.That is when I was born.And then later, my two brothers.In the picturesque village in Southern Germany we moved to and called home, our family didn't have the privilege to be treated as favorably as the only two other things that were named Black – the Black Forest and the Black Forest cake.

Although there were people who welcomed us warm heartedly, I will never forget being called the N- word for the first time, which was when I was still in kindergarten.My father did what he could do to make a living, working night shifts in a factory and my mother cleaned houses, and mostly stayed home.They knew, education was the only currency that could make a future for us children in a foreign country. So they told us to work extra hard. 

Growing up in a very conservative family, as the eldest and onlydaughter of a Tamil household, I was constantly shifting between the outer German and the Tamil world.In the outer world, in school, I was the outsider.Being the only person of color at the whole school, until my brothers later joined me, some classmates made racist jokes within earshot. 

At home, I realized that a Tamil girl is expected to behave very differently from a German girl:Whilst other teenagers talked about love, I was to sit still at functions where relatives came over to ask when I was ready for arranged marriage.It was at home where my fight for women's rights began – fighting for my own freedom.

Fast forward to university, in a bigger city.One day, I was out, waiting alone for the tram at night.Suddently, several Nazis started to throw beer bottles at me.They yelled: „Tomorrow the headline of the newspaper will read ‚A dead n- b- found cut up in a trash can‘“.I survived because I ran for my life.

Yes, dear ocean, that is scary.Recently I watched Lovecraft Country, a show that is a take on H.P.Lovecraft (a brillliant writer) and racism.The author, Misha Green, mentioned that „being an ‘other’ in this world, you’re walking around in a horror movie at all times, you’re always on the edge, wondering when the monster is going to jump out and get you.“This is exactly how I feel – the exhaustion of always having to fightagainst racism, it never stops.

In 2004, I enrolled at another university – the very university that has invited me to speak today, my alma mater, the University of Mannheim.Here, I heard about "Gender Studies" for the first time through a female professor, who became my mentor.About the same time, I joined a women's association.And it was here I learnt about the importance of who can and cannot ask questions in academia and politics- questions that then become the basis of what „we“ should „know“ about how the world works.The male gaze, who decides on what is important, while the rest of the world is willingly ignored.I became aware of how I was part of the fate that millions of girls and women face.

These women, in academia and the political sphere, were the ones who helped me climb the long ladder of knowledge and consciousness in the fields of gender and racism.Of course the snakes were around:E.g. I struggled to make ends meet, had to take up student loans and juggle several jobs.Once I explained to a political science professor that I was unable to participate in group work every evening of the week because I had to work, he replied: „You should not study if you can't afford it.“

So, dear ocean, where exactly do you come in? Why is all this woman's rights and racism talk important to your survival?

It was in 2008, in a little town in Peru.Back then I was volunteering for a women’s rights NGO in Lima.The towns income was based mostly on small- scale fisheries.You know, where humans go out in little boats to fish mostly for their own sustenanceI noticed a local woman with bruises on her arms.She opened up and told me about the domestic abuse that was affecting her and other women, for the men of the town could not catch enough fish to provide the livelihood of the families anymore.Something that, as I learned later, happens all around the world.So, you see, dear ocean, how because the men didn‘t catch enough fish, the women suffered.

I understood that it would make more sense for me to find out more about you, before continuing my path.I started to reach out and talk to humans who work in marineconservation.I was lucky enough to find people who helped me to learn more about you.Other questions arose:Do I have to study marine biology to protect you?Do you care if you are saved by a scientist or by a non- scientist?Can you afford to turn someone away who comes to your rescue?

I grew tired of seeing you, the ocean, as a place that was solely there to supply us humans with resources.Then the best thing ever happened:I read about Marine Protected Areas.

Yes, I know, you are getting all excited about them.They are a place of rest and happiness, a safe haven for the fauna and flora that you created.But, the more I learned, the more I got concerned:Unfortunately a lot of Marine Protected Areas are mere “paper parks”, snakes in disguise for you, dear ocean, as they only offer protection on paper.

I needed to find out more and really connect with you, dear ocean.So, with the help of skilled and understanding teachers, who happen to be Men of Color, I learned even more:First, how to swim, at the age of 33 - a skill many people living on your shores, especially People of Color, don`t have.Shortly after how to dive.

From November 2017 to October 2018, I undertook the first ever world trip to Marine Protected Areas, to see for myself how the situation was.The focus was on the Caribbean, one of your most beautiful partsIt was during the trip that the „snakes“ got me in the most unexpected moments:

While participating in a sailing course before the trip, I was ignored because I was the only one in the course who could not just hop on their family boat for the weekend to practise.With the hope of a more inclusive experience, I went sailing with a crew, with the sad outcome of being bullied by a fellow crew member because of the color of my skin.While diving in Australia, a dive Instructor mentioned, I didn't have to worry about being assaulted, because I looked like an Aborigine.Another dive instructor did a racist greeting while walking by, as if it were the most normal thing to do.

As you know, dear ocean, swimming, diving, sailing, all these skills are key to get in touch with you and do the actual work in the field. During the trip, other “snakes” became visible:

Institutions, where white staff were in charge, not giving locals the knowledge nor the power to operate on their own– a kind of white savior complex.After the trip, I learnt that Women of Color are more likely to experience e.g. microaggressions, disrespect, misogyny and white fragility – in marine conservation and life in general.Gatekeepers, who decide who is worthy of a fellowship, job etc. areeverywhere.Often, Women of Color are the first ones and the only ones in their families pursuing a career in marine conservation, sometimes a career in general.A mentor can be a „ladder“ and is very helpful to overcome the hurdles, the „snakes“.

Even if someone from a minority gets access to university, can that human afford the unpaid internships and volunteer opportunities?Free labour is a huge issue.Environmental jobs are advertised and accepted through established networks.When back in Germany, I sat down with a coach to prepare for a job interview.She opened the NGO website: „You don't stand a chance to get the job. Look, all the superiors hired someone who looks like their younger self.“

So, imagine, a human from a minority gets hired – congratulations, you would say dear ocean. Or not?It depends on which position the human ends up in, how much influence and power they have: Are they glorified interns, part of the senior staff, member of the board?Studies show that the higher in the hierarchy, the lower the diversity is.Sadly, some People of Color are hired merely as tokens of diversity, to make the institution look inclusive.

How about the working conditions?How about the salary?Is it the same salary someone gets, who is not a minority and has the same qualifications?Generally, the salaries in conservation are low.Yes, some humans claim that it is „working in the conservation field is rewarding enough to justify the sacrifice“.Again, a privilege not everyone has access to. Why? Because of "black" or "brown tax“:This means, dear ocean, the money that professionals of color are expected to give to support their families.It causes financial distress to middle class professionals as they usually have no savings left.It is a financial burden on households of color and can rob a person of the ability to attain financial security.

How about the relationship with the non- minority people at work?Imagine, ocean, there is something called „racial gaslighting“:When humans who have never experienced racism, tell the ones that do and share their feelings, that they are exaggerating, making them doubt themselves.Imagine the mental strain of minorities, who carry this burden.

So, you see, humans who are against diversity, are not only hurting other humans, but they are also hurting you.It seems as if human society does not want a lot of people to protect you.

Looking at our game of snakes and ladders, all humans in marineconservation are on their way to the “win”, to help you.But in reality some get a headstart while minorities lag behind.

I am a marine conservationist.I am part of an industry that does not look like me.Not only am I a woman,  I am a Woman of Color.I represent two significantly underrepresented groups.Representation matters:Through creating a diverse, equitable and inclusive workforce in Marine Conservation, young people from underrepresented groups are empowered and enthused to make you, the ocean, feel secure and happy.

I hope through sharing my story of resilience, you can understand what numerous humans have to go through if they want to help you.

Dear ocean, I invite you look into the future with me:I see a world, in which there are more ladders than snakes.I see a world where all humans care for your wellbeing.I see a world in which marine conservation is a welcoming field.I see a world in which all humans are allowed to save you, the ocean. 

[scarlct-vvitch]

“great. perfect. nice. fuck this.” spideypool!!

Peter was more exhausted than he had been in weeks. He had been so good about sleep lately–he had even made a schedule to keep himself from having another falling-asleep-during-an-acid-lab incident–but this week had decided to be a serious dick to him.

So he found it perfectly understandable to skip his last class of the day (which was advanced mechanical engineering, so it wasn’t like he couldn’t catch up later) in favor of going home and napping. Because he had almost used his phone as a coffee stirrer an hour ago, and that seemed to make it clear the coffee wouldn’t really cover only having six hours of sleep in the past two nights combined. 

Peter yawned for about the millionth time that day and scrubbed a hand over his face as he walked up to his apartment door. He started to lazily pat at his pockets for his keys with his other hand–and came up empty.

He frowned and patted himself down again. No jingle. No pointy key-ends. Frowning harder, he dropped his backpack and started to paw through it, even though he rarely kept his keys anywhere but his pockets (they’d been stolen from his backpack once and he still wasn’t over it). Unsurprisingly and unfortunately, he came up with nothing.

Peter briefly felt the urge to cry. All he wanted was a nap. He thought back through his day. He didn’t take them out when he was in the coffee shop–he didn’t even sit down. From what he could recall, he didn’t take them out in class either (because why would he?). Which left him with one, horribly stupid option–they were still sitting on his kitchen counter.

Inside his apartment. Because he was an idiot. 

“Great. Perfect. Nice. Fuck this.” he snapped at the door.

Despite being a functional adult who could deal with this problem in a rational way, Peter was very tired. So he did a rather petty thing and kicked his door, hard. 

Crying was seeming like an increasingly appealing option. Peter’s landlord already didn’t like him. He didn’t need to give him another reason to think he was a bad tenant (which, to be fair, he was, because with his superhero agenda–and his superhero friends–his apartment had been through a lot) by saying he’d lost his keys…again.

Peter sighed and sat down, leaning against his door and throwing his backpack next to him. He honestly didn’t think he had the energy to suit up and climb up to his window. He wasn’t even sure he would be able to find his window.

But he still needed to get in his apartment. Maybe he could magically learn how to pick locks without any effort. Or he could see if any of his neighbors would pick his lock for him–

Wait. I know someone who can pick locks.

Peter was both suddenly grateful and suddenly dreading what he knew he had to do. He sighed very hard and pulled out his phone and for the first time EVER dialed a number he never thought he would need to.

After two rings, he got an answer.

“Deadpool speaking.” Wade’s voice growled at him.

“Wade? It’s–Spider-man.” Peter awkwardly finished, almost just saying ‘Peter’.

The change in Wade’s tone was instant. “Yo, Spidey!” he screeched.

Peter winced and immediately regretted his decision. “Hi, Wade. I need a favor.”

“…Is it a murder-y favor? Because I’ve been trying not to do that so much and–”

“It’s not a job, Wade. I’m locked out of my apartment and I need you to pick my lock.”

There was a pause, and Peter swears he heard a snicker. “Did you web your keys to the wall or something?” Wade joked, then started to poorly cover up a laugh.

“I’m hanging up.” Peter snapped, and started to.

“Wait, wait!” Wade shouted, and Peter didn’t hang up. “I’ll help you, Spidey. Can you text me the address?”

“Yeah. Please show up before I have to sleep in my hallway.” Peter requested, then hung up. He typed out his address and sent it to Wade, who responded with a thumbs-up emoji, a winking-tongue-face emoji that Peter never understood, and informed him he’d be there in fifteen minutes.

Peter sighed and pulled out his Spider-man mask from his backpack. He really didn’t want to put it on, but Wade didn’t know his identity and Peter didn’t really think trusting him with it was a good idea.

Then again, he had just given him his address. That was almost worse, in a way. Wade was unarguably the most unstable man he knew, and he was coming over to pick Peter’s lock for him. 

Peter briefly wondered if this was how he was destined to die. Not by some super-villain, but by letting a crazy person know his address. 

I’m literally letting an axe-murderer into my house. Oh my god, this is how I die.

Peter was still busy imaging scenarios of Wade brutally murdering him when Wade showed up and raised an eyebrow at Peter’s sad scene. He was wearing jeans and a hoodie, which was surprising, though he still had both his mask and gloves on.

“Spidey?” he asked, then it clicked why Wade was looking at him funny.

Peter had forgotten to ever put his mask on.

“Uh, yeah. Hi, Wade.”

Wade suddenly slapped a hand over his eyes. “You forgot your mask.”

Peter sighed. “I guess I did. But I also gave you my address, so I figured if you were gonna murder me I couldn’t stop you.”

“What?”

“Never mind. I’m tired. Please break into my apartment so I can sleep.” Peter said, gesturing at the door handle by his head.

Wade chuckled and walked over. He knelt down next to Peter and started to work on the lock with a bunch of tools that looked like torture devices. “So, not that I’m complaining, but why did you call me for this? You’ve never even used my number before.”

“Long story short, my landlord hates me already and everyone else would never let me live down leaving my keys in my apartment and not realizing it until now.”

“That’s fair.” Wade shrugged, then the door made a click and Wade turned the handle, and to Peter’s sleepy amazement, it opened. “Ta-da. All better.”

Peter gaped at how fast Wade had done that. After a second of chuckling at him, Wade offered him a hand. Peter took it and was heaved to his feet. He grabbed his backpack and entered, expecting Wade to follow.

But he didn’t. Wade stayed in the doorway, rocking back and forth on his feet.

Peter turned back and looked at him. He looked like a lost puppy. Well, a lost puppy who was trying to see as much as he possibly could from a doorway. Peter sighed. “Just come in.”

Wade giggled and ran in, immediately going everywhere. “I’m in Spider-man’s apartment!”

Peter slowly followed him, eventually ended up in his bedroom, where Wade was fiddling with things on his desk. “Don’t break anything.” he ordered, then promptly collapsed onto his bed face-down.

After a moment, he felt a weight on the other side of the bed. “Aw, is Spidey sleepy?” Wade cooed.

“Fuck off.” Peter snapped, and Wade laughed.

“That’s fair. I like your apartment, by the way. Tasteful.”

Peter snorted. “Does it accurately show off my college student budget?”

“Impeccably.” Wade said, flopping down on the bed next to him. “Dude, how old is this mattress?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it witnessed JFK’s murder, to be honest.”

Wade laughed, then they fell into silence. Peter was honestly half-asleep before Wade broke the silence again, and even then he didn’t really wake up. “Should I go?”

“Hmm?” Peter asked, turning to look at him.

“Should I leave? You seem about two seconds away from hibernation.”

Peter shrugged. “Probably. I’m gonna sleep for about fifty hours now.”

Wade smiled at him and sat up. “That’s fair. See you on your next patrol?”

“Considering you know where I live, I don’t think I can stop you from showing up to all of them.”

“Probably not. Sleep well, Spidey.”

Peter just hummed an answer and snuggled deeper into his pillow, listening to Wade’s footsteps get fainter–then get louder again.

Wade poked his head back into Peter’s room. “For the record, I like your face.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Go home, Wade.”

“It’s a nice face. Excellent face. That hair is killer. Do you condition?”

“Wade.”

“Right, right. I’m going. Call me if you need a number for an actual locksmith, baby boy.” Wade chuckled, then left for real.

Peter threw his cover onto himself, rolled over into the spot Wade had made surprisingly warm in his short time there, and slept better than he had in what felt like years.