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╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ Your husband Peter may be behind bars, but that won't stop him from keeping you exactly where he wants you.
The fluorescent lights sting your eyes the moment you step into the hallway. You’re running on about three hours of sleep. Your 1 year old son, Jack is slightly heavy on your hip. His tiny fingers curled in the collar of your shirt like a lifeline.
Pepper tried to talk you down.
Happy tried to take your keys.
Tony tried to block the elevator.
As you drove away, Tony had screamed after you, "He's in a goddamn high level maximum security prison Y/n! I will not have my daughter and grandbaby go-"
None of them succeeded in stopping you.
The guard at the final checkpoint swallows hard when he sees your badge.
“Miss, are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes,” you manage to say without trembling too much, “My husband is waiting for me.”
He glances at the steel door and nods. "Go right ahead."
The visitation room is cold and much too quiet. A wall of reinforced glass splits the room in half. On the other side sits Peter Parker, hands cuffed, posture perfect, expression calm in that infuriatingly elegant way he has. He looks like he is waiting for a reservation, not sitting in a concrete holding cell.
His eyes light up the second he sees you.
“There she is,” he says, voice warm and smooth. “How’s my pretty girl?”
You glare at him. “Peter.” You hold a stoic expression, silently telling yourself not to cry.
He grins, leaning back like he has all the time in the world. “Sweetheart, you look gorgeous. Tired, but more gorgeous than ever.” He smirks as he appraises you selfishly. “Did your breasts get even bigger?”
Before you can react, Jack babbles at the sound of his voice, reaching toward the glass. Peter’s expression softens instantly, like someone flipped a switch inside him.
“Hey, my little man,” he murmurs, pressing his palm to the barrier.
Jack slaps his tiny hand against the same spot, giggling.
“Babe, I’m just so glad you’re here,” Peter murmured, smiling too naturally. “I just wish I could hold you two.”
"Pete-"
“He’s gotten so big, Y/n,” Peter breathed, eyes locked on Jack’s sweet little face. “I can’t believe we made the cutest kid on this planet. ”
"Peter," you tried again, beginning to lose your patience.
“Y/n…” Peter mocked softly, leaning back in the chair as far as the restraints allowed. His hands were bound together, but that didn’t stop him from stretching, rolling his shoulders like he wasn’t in a jail interview room. “I could really go for one of your famous back rubs right now. My muscles are killing me.” He arched again, those gorgeous back muscles flexing under the jumpsuit like he was showing off on purpose.
You take a breath, steadying yourself. “Peter, we really need to talk.”
He hums, eyes still on Jack. “About how much you missed me?”
“About why you’re in jail?”
He finally looked at you, smirking. “Oh. That.”
“Yes! That!” you whined.
“Don’t worry about me,” he says, waving it off like it’s nothing. “I was just teaming up with Frank.”
You blink. “Frank?” you take a deep breath, “As in Frank Castle?”
“Yeah.”
“The Punisher?"
“Yeah.”
“The man who carries grenades in his coat pockets?”
Peter shrugs, smiling like he’s discussing a regular golf buddy. “He’s not that bad once you get to know him.”
“Peter, he got you arrested! ”
“No,” Peter corrects gently, “I got me arrested. Frank just… assisted.”
You stare at him. “So you think this is funny?”
“I think you’re cute when you’re mad, pretty girl.”
You want to scream.
You want to kiss him.
You want to throw a chair at the glass.
“Peter, you cannot keep doing this! You have a child! You have a pissed off wife! You can’t just run around with murderers and get locked up like it’s some kind of hobby!”
He leans forward, eyes warm and annoyingly sincere. “Sweetheart, I’m fine. I promise.”
“You’re in jail.”
“Temporarily!”
“You’re handcuffed!”
“Fashion statement, come on Y/n, you’re always prancing around in those little sundresses. Why don’t you cut me some slack? He hums thoughtfully, pressing his palm to the glass and tracing where your hair falls. “After all..” he wiggles the wedding ring on his left finger in front of the glass, “Last time I checked, you’re still bound to me, baby.” he smirked.
You open your mouth. Close it. Open it again.
Then the words slip out before you can stop them.
“Peter… I feel like I should divorce you.”
The room goes silent.
Peter blinks once.
Then he laughs.
Not mocking.
Not cruel.
Just amused.
Like you told him the sky is green.
“Baby,” he says, shaking his head, “No way.”
“I’m serious.”
“You’re adorable when you’re trying to rile me.”
“I’m not trying to rile you! Pete-”
“Babe, babe, come on. Just a few more weeks and I'll be out of this place!”
Before you can respond, the door on his side bursts open. Two guards step in, tense and hurried.
“Parker. Let’s go.”
Peter sighs dramatically. “Gentlemen. I’m in the middle of a conversation with my wife.”
“Now,” one of them says.
Peter stands, slow and elegant, like he’s humoring them. He gives you one last lingering look. The smile just barely met his worn out eyes.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he says. “You’re stuck with me.” He wiggles the wedding band yet again.
“Peter—”
He winks. “I’ll be home soon.”
The guards grab his arms and start pulling him toward the door. Jack starts crying, reaching for him, tiny hands shaking.
“Dada!” he wails.
Peter twists just enough to look back at you both.
“I love you,” he says.
Then he’s gone.
Dragged out of the room.
The door slams shut.
Jack sobs into your shoulder.
Your heart feels like it’s splitting open.
And all you can think about is how the man wasn’t even scared, not for a damn second.
Peter Parker is planning something.
And whatever it is…
he’s making sure you stay exactly where he wants you.
huge fan of the differences in the plots this season because it was like:
nicole, xavier, and claire plotline: i’m going to infiltrate the mean girls! i’m going to volunteer at the hospital! i’m going to reconnect with my finnish roots! oh no i got really drunk/met a new bodysnatched ghost/can't read finnish as well as i speak it!
