Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

December 14, 2028. New York City.

-

Thousands upon thousands of citizens flood the streets of Manhattan as part of a nationwide series of peaceful demonstrations in support of President-elect Scott Summers, whose status as a mutant has sparked much controversy within the political spectrum.

The Stars and Stripes, an American ultranationalist paramilitary that has been viscerally outspoken against mutantkind since the establishment of the Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, have claimed responsibility for various acts of terror that have sporadically occurred across the nation. 

-

“It’s one thing to let foreigners and their problems into our country, but the growing number of mutants should’ve been dealt with by our forefathers a long time ago! That’s why we’re here! To cleanse and preserve our bloodlines as ordained by God!”

-

Felicia Hardy swiftly navigates the masses and makes it to her loft where she sees off Sarah Welkman. “Again, thank you so much for looking after her on short notice. Please get home safely. Who knows when the chaos will unfold out there.” 

“You don’t always have to thank me, Miss Hardy. And thanks. I’ll be careful. Bye!”

Felicia exhales through pursed lips and locks the door once the sitter leaves. She heads into the living room where her eleventh-month old daughter is in her baby walker.

“Oh, Felicity!” Felicia hoists Felicity into her arms. The child smiles and touches her mother’s chin. “Gosh, you’re so cute.” Felicia kisses Felicity’s left cheek repeatedly.

Felicia sets Felicity back into the walker and turns the tv on. She switches to the news channel and sits down, drinking a bottle of Ozarka. 

To her surprise, Peter M. Parker is currently interviewing President-elect Summers. She did not believe her boyfriend would be able to secure the interview like he promised he would a week prior.

-

“We live in 2028. Many Americans all over our country are still quick to judge others by the color of their skin. They resort to spewing racial slurs whether it be out of anger, jealousy, hatred, and so on. You, President-elect Summers, are a mutant, and you can relate to the prejudice people of color endure on an almost daily basis, correct?”

“Ahem. To a degree, Mr. Parker. At first glance, I seem ordinary to those who are not familiar with me. My mutation manifested during high school. At age sixteen, to be precise. I was careful with how I carried myself from then on. But wearing specialized eyewear can only do so much for me. Others started catching on the more time passed. I would receive passive-aggressive comments and everyone started distancing themselves from me. Including those who didn’t particularly have anything against me. They just simply didn’t want to get involved. That was a regular occurrence in the past with mutants compared to nowadays. I didn’t think too much of it and I didn’t blame anyone. But time went on and I began developing a resentment towards my former human classmates and friends for not standing up for me or even comforting me in privacy. After I officially came out as a mutant at age twenty-one, I was ridiculed and targeted by the same, uh, crowd from before. Nasty rumors spread about me and I didn’t want to feed into that dark, bubbling cloud of hate. Charles Xavier taught me on more than one occasion that responding to hatred with hatred would only chip away at my identity as an individual and as a mutant.”

-

Felicia watches the rest of the interview and after it concludes, she waits a few hours, playing with Felicity, then feeding her and finally receives a call from Peter.

“Hi, Pete. Yeah, I watched the whole thing. Amazing. Spectacular, even. Ha ha. Felicity’s fine but I can tell she misses her dad. He hardly swings by and when he does, his visits are brief. It’s a shame. Maybe she’ll need a little sibling to keep her company. Ha ha! I’m teasing, Peter. Yeah, yeah. Okay. Next Tuesday…perfect. Okay. Be safe. Bye.”

-

The following week.

-

Peter pulls out of Felicia to ejaculate onto her stomach. “Oh, damn.” He collapses beside her. Felicia glances at her navel. “You weren’t kidding about being pent-up.”

Peter chuckles. “I was saving myself for Pedro Pascal.” They both share a bout of laughter. Felicia hugs his body from the side. “Stay for a few days.”

“You know I can’t, Felicia.” Peter caresses her shoulder.

“First, you knock me up and then you name our kid after me while I was passed out. You owe me so many nights of remuneration.”

Peter quietly speaks as he kisses her face, avoiding her lips. “Now you’re complaining? When it was all your idea to settle down?”

“Shut up.” Felicia smilingly kisses his lips. “And that idea involves you. You have no idea how lonely this bed is without you.”

“I’ve missed you too. And I really, really appreciate that you’ve been patient with me but I’m still tying up some loose ends.”

Felicia stops kissing and stares into his brown eyes. “What’s with that tone? Are you hurting people again?”

Peter sighs. “This entire thing that I’ve done is-”

“I’m not judging you.” She shakes her head, her voice so soft. “I’m not judging you. You do what you know is right for you. But do not forget what is right for her.”

Peter falls silent. He answers with a nod. 

Felicia sits up and wipes the mess off her stomach with a nearby hand towel. “Let’s shower and eat something. I haven’t had dinner yet.”

Peter follows her into the bathroom, grabbing a clean towel draped over a wooden chair. 

-

The next day.

-

Felicia and Peter make out and take turns dry humping each other until his phone blares. “Damn it, I was so…Hello? JJ, wait. What?!” Felicia dismounts Peter, allowing him to pace around the living area. 

He stops in his tracks and gestures for Felicia to turn on the television. She does so, and the breaking news reveals that the body of Captain Steve Rogers has been found and brought back to America.

Felicia checks her phone while Peter argues with his boss. The discovery shocks the world. She reads the first headline.

-

THE SOLDIER WHO KILLED HITLER, THE HERO OF HEROES, THE MAN OUT OF TIME!

-

To be continued.

Chapter Text

President-elect Summers stands at the podium to address the recovery of Captain Rogers’ body from the Atlantic Ocean. Long believed to be dead since his disappearance during Word War II, the resurgence of one of America’s first superheroes has sprung hope in the hearts of the American people and concern in the minds of clandestine oppositions. 

“Captain Rogers’ body was recovered yesterday morning by the Second Fleet during a routine patrol along the Arctic. Specialists have analyzed his body and they deduced that he was in suspended animation in a pod frozen over by ice. How this came to be will be thoroughly investigated. Questions?”

Philip Sheldon stands up in the crowd. “Philip Sheldon, the Daily Bugle. International reactions have been mixed. As for the American people, many citizens have expressed their concern that an icon during the Second Great War will suffer from a sort of existential crisis due to him being time displaced. Some have speculated that he may choose the wrong side of the current unfolding civil unrest. Will his views align with the conservatives? Or will they align with the liberals? Which party will champion him as a figurehead to boost morale? What will Captain America do?”

Scott nearly sighs in frustration at the question. “I assure you that once he thaws and properly recovers, Captain Rogers will undergo a thorough psychological evaluation to determine if he will function as a citizen. His political stance should not be a matter of debate when he has a lot of catching up to do. It is important that we remind ourselves that this is a man who fought in the European Theater with a diverse company of men and women under his command. We owe him our respect and patience. Next question.”

-

Peter sits on the sofa, disappointed that JJ tasked someone else with attending the Presidential Address. Felicia places Felicity in a nearby crib and sits on Peter’s lap. “At least you’re here with us.” She says, kissing his throat. 

Peter whimpers when she nibbles on his skin. “JJ’s been sending me all over the place and once I’m back home, he sends a fossil in my place. That could’ve been me speaking to Summers. And I nailed my interview with him last week.”

“You’ve gone above and beyond. Settle here with me. Look at me.” Felicia kisses his left cheek. Peter lovingly looks into her eyes. “Peter, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong…I feel like I’m not doing enough out there, Felicia. I’m on flights or the road going from one place to another but I don’t feel that I’m making a difference by seeking out the truth.”

“Seeking out the truth? For the Bugle?” 

Peter shrugs. “I was Spider-Man from age fourteen to twenty-five. That’s eleven years of me swinging around and fighting the same maniacs over and over again. It never felt like I was doing enough. Now, I’m working full time and still, nothing. What am I doing wrong, Felicia?”

Felicia does not answer immediately. “You were alone for the longest time. A lot of us were. Costumed individuals doing our own thing whether it was good or bad. You fought the menaces to society while society treated you like another menace. You kept going until we decided to have her.” 

They glance in the direction of the crib. They hear the soft snoring of their daughter.

“There’s no team. No community for people like us. The Fantastic Four didn’t even last five years. It’s better this way and maybe you’re still adjusting to civilian life. I know I am. But so far, you’ve been a kickass father to my girl. And I love you for that.”

Peter finds himself smiling broadly at her words. “Thanks. I appreciate you, Felicia.”

“I know.” She kisses his forehead.

To be continued.

Chapter Text

“President-elect Summers, if Captain Rogers’ reintegration into modern society succeeds, will he be retired to civilian life or will he resume his service in the military?”

“Again, it is too soon to make assumptions regarding Captain Rogers’ place within the nation whether it be active duty or not.”

“But it would be worthwhile for the American people to prepare for whatever it is we’re getting ourselves into, don’t you think? His potential return to, uh, heroics could instill some semblance of confidence in the wrong hearts. Vigilantes have been a dying breed for the last two to three years and the X-Men disbanded before your political pursuits began. And they are far from being the only superpowered individuals who hung up their capes and cowls. This applies to the criminal element. With Captain America’s return, what will happen? Who will creep back from the shadows? Will we look up to the skies with hope or in horror?”

“I can assure you that whatever crisis may converge on American society, we will confront it as an entity. Thousands of mutants served during the Second Great War and the preceding global conflict. As did the 369th Infantry Regiment and the men who became Code Talkers. Our country has always discriminated against those who aren’t your stereotypical American. Yet, despite the deeply rooted prejudice, they all fought for America because at the end of the day, we are one people standing beneath one flag.”

-

Scott collapses into his chair and sighs deeply. His better half sits across from him in another chair. “They really admired your monologue.”

Scott laughs, loving her sarcasm. “I improvised. That’s a big no-no according to my advisors. I understand why the public is reacting this way. It’s terrifying. He was one of the very few number of costumed individuals who was well-received during his time. But it was easier because he’s white and supposedly patriotic. An easy guy to get behind when a bigger bully confronts you.”

“What do you think, Scott?” Emma asks.

“Me? I honestly share their concerns. Steve Rogers was highly regarded by the general public during the war. I read into his profile. He’s tolerant of people regardless of their ethnicity or religion which is backed up by who he served with. And you already know that he was with Logan when they rescued Erik from Hydra. But a man like that, an actual living legend, may feel too out of place in modern times. Who knows what he’ll do? I mean, this isn’t a regular occurrence. Sure, gods and old magicians have been around since Thor defended Earth from the Viltrumites in the sixties. But Steve is a mortal man on the inside. And this wasn’t included in the public records but he had a lot of enemies and most of them are still active.”

Emma speaks. “Xavier always taught his pupils how unpredictable the human race is. You cannot always prepare for an outcome you believe will come to pass. That is why we adapt. And I believe in you to lead the nation through any crisis. You proved yourself capable when you led the X-Men and taught at the Academy.”

Scott half smiles. “Thank you for believing in me, Emma.”

“Don’t lose hope, Scott. We’ve come this far. We can go further.”

-

Felicia scrolls through her phone as Peter snores beside her. In the crib, Felicity also snores, causing Felicia to quietly chortle. She then comes across footage of Wakandan forces battling the Atlanteans in Sierra Leone.

She shoots up in bed and shakes Peter awake. “Mmm…too tired to sex, cat…”

”No, you moron. Look!” She whispers loudly, holding the dim screen to his face. His eyes widen at the footage. “JJ’s gonna wanna send someone over there!” He whispers loudly.

Felicia stops him by pinning him to the bed, her body on top of his. She continues to whisper. “No. I only showed you because you would’ve found out anyway. But you’re not leaving us here. That’s too far away for you to be gone for a war.”

Peter listens. And he knows. “I’m staying. I’ll turn my phone off. JJ will send someone else.”

Felicia sighs in relief. “Good boy. Now…want me to make it up to you now that we’re both awake?” Her hands slide from his shoulders to his chest. 

“Only if you’re ovulating.” He replies, knowing she is indeed ovulating.

Felicia smiles while biting her lip. “I like when you’re reckless.” She doves in for a kiss and they quietly have sex.

To be continued.

Chapter Text

Beneath their damp sheets one evening, Peter-on top of Felicia-thrusts deeply, slowly into her body. A few gasps and whimpers slip from her, trying so hard to muffle herself with the crib situated near the doorway.

“We need t-to hire a sitter and find a rooftop next time…” Peter whispers, engulfing her left breast to taste her flesh.

“Fffuck...” Felicia mutters, her arms holding his head.

-

Two hours earlier.

-

“I can handle another birth, Peter.” Peter paces once again back and forth in front of her in the living area, cradling Felicity in his arms. “Felicia, it’s chaos out there. I don’t want to help bring another child into this world until we’re sure it’s safe again.”

“The world will never be safe on a daily basis. I was terrified on September 11th. No two-year old girl should have to witness a tragedy of that magnitude. But it didn’t stop me from growing into who I am. And yes, times are tumultuous and hectic right now but none of the chaos or the fear of something bad happening is stopping me from loving Felicity. I don’t regret making her and pushing her into this world. And I know you don’t either. You’re scared, so is everyone else. I’m here for you.” Felicia stands in front of Peter and Felicity, allowing their daughter to hold her hand. “Felicity is here for you. And vice versa. I won’t pressure you into having another child but I’m ready if you want to go through with it.”

Peter is so in love with her right now in this moment. She can see the love dwelling in his gaze. He gives his answer.

-

Peter suffocates Felicia with a plunging kiss while being careful to hold back his strength when he digs deep into her and ejaculates, his semen drowning her womb with the intention of reproducing.

“Aaahh..ah…” Felicia moans through the kiss. Peter pulls his head away, eyes shut tightly. His ass and stomach clench, grunting through his teeth. He delivers a few more thrusts to ensure she is properly impregnated.

Tears fall onto her cheeks. Felicia opens her eyes, breathing heavily through her mouth. Their stomachs rest against each other. Peter kisses her gently. Felicia softly moans one final time when he pulls out, allowing their fluids to pour out of her.

-

Felicia and Mary Jane spend an hour together at a regularly attended cafe one surprisingly quiet day in Manhattan.

MJ speaks. “I’m glad the protests have died down even if it’s temporary. Who knows what would’ve happened if it all escalated into violence.”

Felicia scoffs in partial agreement at the remainder. Two years prior, former Governor Fisk authorized the National Guard to use lethal force against protesters after the execution of Matthew Murdock at the hands of his Anti-Vigilante Task Force.

Felicia recalls how she, Peter, and others attempted to locate Murdock but were too late by the time they reached his corpse. The death of Daredevil was orchestrated by Fisk and unknown affiliates so that many vigilantes and criminals would find themselves in traps. Only a few perished or were detained by the task force.

“Peter is still haunted by Murdock’s death. He used to blame himself for not finding him in time.” Felicia sighs deeply. “He and I even fought for over it. Ugh, let’s talk about something else.”

“Agreed. Anything new going on? News? Good or bad?”

Felicia contemplates telling MJ of how she and Peter are trying for another child. She shakes away the thought. “Nothing really interesting.”

Mary Jane smiles. “Are you pregnant?”

Felicia blushes and nervously chuckles. “N-No, not yet. We’ve been trying for a few days and now we’re waiting for the results. It’s going to be a loooong month.”

MJ maintains her smile. “Don’t be so awkward about it, Felicia. I’m truly, truly happy that you and Peter are finding new ways to be happy. Wait. Did I say that right?”

Felicia shakes her head, grinning. “I know what you meant. And I’m really glad you don’t have a problem with it. Oh, god, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

The friends laugh at the awkwardness between them. MJ speaks. “I appreciate you both with all the love I can give.”

Felicia nods. “How did you know he and I are trying?”

MJ shrugs, sipping from her order before answering. “You were acting the same way when you told me of your first pregnancy.”

“I see. We talked about a second kid. For a while, actually. I’d frequently tease him about the topic just to get a rise out of him. We think it’s best if Felicity can grow up with someone else instead of a dog that’ll die in ten years.”

“Grim but understandable.” MJ says. “And hopefully this time you’ll be the one to name the baby.”

Felicia groans. “I know. Peter choosing ‘Felicity’ is one of the most romantic things he can do and I think the name suits her, but he could’ve waited.”

MJ nods in agreement. “He was like that when we got a kitten. Couldn’t wait for me to return from Sokovia. But at least he’s not bad at naming.”

“Oh, definitely.”

To be continued.

Chapter Text

Felicia and Peter eat dinner while their child is being taken care of by the latter’s aunt amid a resurgence in unrest throughout Manhattan alone.

“Give me a straight answer. Is there a part of you that wants to wear the mask again?” Felicia asks.

Peter deeply exhales through his nostrils while chewing. He swallows then answers. “I was hoping you’d ask that question. Yeah, somewhere in my heart, I can still feel that pull. But it wouldn’t make sense for me to become Spider-Man again. I have a job and you and Felicity. When I was Spider-Man, no one had my back. I was miserable and always on the verge of death. I shouldn’t have to remind you, Felicia.”

“Don’t give me that.” She whispers. “You know we all worried for you. You just…you were always the first to the scene. No matter how dangerous the disaster or how powerful the enemies were.” She laughs. “How could we keep up with you?”

Peter is silent, staring down at his plate. Felicia continues. “You were a thorn in Fisk’s side and you were the one who saved the city from the Sinister Six’s warpath. I can keep going, Pete. If you need me to tell you tell you no, too bad.”

She stands up with her empty plate and silverware and walks towards the sink behind Peter. She stops beside him and holds his shoulder, looking down at him. “Look at me. You don’t need that mask to be Spider-Man.”

Peter helps her with the dishes, contemplating in his mind. They spend the rest of the evening wordlessly watching several episodes of a show together. Before midnight, Peter follows Felicia into their bedroom. He halts by the bed, his hand clutching the bedsheet. “Babe.”

Felicia stops before entering the bathroom. “Hmm?”

Peter approaches her. “I’m gonna go out. You can head to bed without me, ‘kay?”

Felicia smiles and kisses his cheek. “Have fun, treasure.”

-

Two hours later.

-

A crowd amasses against a mob of violent ultranationalists in Times Square. The police are unable to intervene due to the high density of the crowd. 

Feeling increasingly outnumbered and threatened by the protestors, the ultranationalists back away up the crimson stairway, pulling assault rifles and submachine guns out of their coats and bags, instantly striking terror in the masses. 

But before panic can turn into tragedy, all five men are swiftly strung in all directions into the air by an apparently unseen force until witnesses see large amounts of webbing entrapping the would-be terrorists.

However, a sixth ultranationalist on one of the rooftops decides now is the time to continue with his part of the plot and trains his sniper on the citizens to kill as many as he can.

Ten seconds later, the people of New York watch as Spider-Man swings above them with the sixth ultranationalist held tightly beneath his right arm.

Upon seeing him, the masses erupt into applause and cheering and further witness Spider-Man landing near a squad of officers, who detain the ultranationalist as soon as he is shoved to the ground by New York’s resident webhead.

Spider-Man leaps into the air and swings away from the scene before the people fully converge on him. A long night is ahead of him, and beneath his mask, Peter smiles widely.

News of his return spreads faster than a wildfire. Many look up to the night sky to witness him. Those within the criminal element behave frantically and fearfully, calling off schemes, plans, or abandoning active crimes.

From his home, J. Jonah Jameson smirks and burns out his cigarette while watching the coverage. He glances out his window. “Welcome back.”

To be continued.

Chapter Text

“Steve Rogers is the man out of time. He served his country decades ago and was presumed dead. The nation has moved on from the likes of him. What good would he do in these times?”

-

“I say the young men of today need better role models. They learn too much from the wrong crowd. Social media influencers, two-faced celebrities, insecure men who host podcasts, I can go on. And I’m referring to America only.”

-

“The military practically owned Rogers’ star-spangled ass. When he wasn’t out fighting Nazis, he took part in brief tours across the theater. He wasn’t just an icon, he was walking propaganda. White, tall, handsome, blue eyes and blonde hair, he was the ideal American. And he still is in the eyes of certain groups today.”

-

“Our nation is still extremely divided over whether or not people should have basic human rights. It’s insane that we have to fight and fight against the conservative agenda for America to improve. Should Captain America be allowed to become prolific in modern society, his presence would surely cause a bit of bedlam throughout the political landscape.”

-

“Who knows? Maybe Steve Rogers will be ordered by the government to serve as their weapon against…you know, the government’s opponents. That’s what I’m really worried about. They’re driving their own people into poverty while ruining the lives of millions of others around the world with their wars and economic disputes.”

-

“Captain America is a super soldier. Probably the first and I say that because you never know if there were experiments performed on others before Steve Rogers. Anyway, what I’m getting at is that you have a god flying around fighting invaders, magicians dealing with monsters and demons, and vigilantes doing their thing on the streets of our cities. They’re all doing their own thing. Where does Steve Rogers fit into all that?”

-

The Sanctum Sanctorum. 

-

Thor Odinson and Doctor Stephen Strange play a game of chess. “Stephen, what is your opinion on the ongoing crisis?”

Stephen snorts. “My opinion? Doesn’t matter. If it reaches this reality, then we deal with it. Can’t do much other than react. Preparing wouldn’t do much.”

“A grim response.” Thor replies.

Strange sighs. “Besides, I’d rather focus on all the nonsense here on Earth. Never know when the Sorcerer Supreme has to step in if things go from okay to shit.”

“Hmm.” Thor wins.

“Good job, Odinson. How about a-”

A nearby explosion rocks the building, causing the two to spring into action. Outside, they are met by a green behemoth roaring towards the clear skies. 

To be continued.