Spider-Son & Iron Dad one shots

Spidey Senses

a/n: ive been planning on writing this chapter since january!!! unfortunately, life sucks! stay safe out there guys. a lot of scary stuff is happening in the world. be brave. be cautious. be strong. find the positive. it's really important right now more than ever.

⚠️TW: anxiety/panic attacks! this one has a lot of the thoughts during anxiety attacks (at least in my experience) so if that's triggering please don't read. I'll try and get a different chapter up that doesn't have a trigger warning in the next two days⚠️

The sun shone through the classroom windows, casting early-morning shadows on the walls and over desks. It was the last day until Midtown went on break for the spring, and things were just starting to brighten up and get warmer. The teacher was blabbering about some sort of topic that they were supposed to be studying. Perhaps it was cultural regression or something else that the students liked to tune out.

No matter, Peter felt like something was wrong.

It was as present then as it was when he woke up. Something there as soon as he opened his eyes. A concoction of dread and nerves that bubbled tight in his chest, putting a general sense of unease over his thoughts. He took a shaky breath to try and ease the tightness in his throat and sat up, starting his day for the second time.

Something horrible must be coming, Peter thought as he walked towards the subway. His heartbeat thrummed heavily in his ears at a pace that made his skin want to crawl. This was the same feeling he had before the Titan Q-Ship had landed in New York. The same feeling before he saw Tony Stark get stabbed by—

Peter feels his fingertips go cold and his lungs start to burn. He takes a few deep breaths, and the thoughts are forcefully pushed back. He keeps walking.

He continued with this feeling all the way into his first period, where he now sat, feeling like something was wrong. His fingers itched to pull out his phone and text Tony in warning, but he couldn't risk pulling his attention away from—well, everything.

When the bell finally rang, Peter jumped in his seat. The tightness in his chest intensified as he pulled out his phone to text Tony.

[Peter: Mr. Stark, something is wrong]

[Peter: Is everything okay? He's dead, right? Like, for real?]

His hands shook as he typed out each letter. He knew that Tony would understand what he was saying if he had messed up on a letter.

The response came soon enough.

[Tony: Yeah, kid]

[Tony: He's dead. Don't worry about whatever it is being that]

Neither has to specify who "he" is.

[Tony: I have people watching all over the place, and nothing is raising any concerns]

[Tony: Do you want me to pick you up? How serious do you think it is?]

Normally, Peter's heart would warm at how protective his mentor was being with the precautions, but now his heart just beat unevenly with adrenaline running through his veins.

[Peter: I need to be here if something happens]

[Tony: Peter.]

Peter could practically see Tony in front of him, his eyebrows furrowed in his own version of disappointment. It was the kind of disappointment that really came from worry, and the expression that represented it was present often on Tony's face.

It was the expression Tony would have whenever Peter was risky or unsafe, or when Peter would ask him a medical question that was a little too specific.