[Third Person POV]
Felicia lay sprawled on her bed, tangled in the sheets with nothing but a loose tank top and her underwear. She was deep in that heavy half-conscious state of sleep when a sudden crash split the silence, followed by the clatter of things falling to the floor.
Her eyes snapped open, unfocused at first, and she sat up slowly, blinking. She dragged a hand through her messy bed hair, yawning, but the noises in the distance kept her awake—loud thuds, something toppling over, and a muffled voice that sounded more frantic than anything.
Felicia swung her legs off the bed, rubbing her eyes as she stood, and stepped cautiously into the hall. She turned instinctively toward her mother's room—the direction the noises were coming from.
At first, she thought maybe something had just fallen or her mother had tripped over something, but as the muffled sound grew into a ruckus, Felicia's sleep-fog lifted instantly. Her instincts screamed that something was wrong. She broke into a sprint, heart pounding, and burst through the bedroom door. "Mom?!"
The sight that greeted her was pure chaos. Lydia was in the middle of the room, hair wild, objects scattered everywhere. Her eyes were wide with disbelief as she twisted and turned, completely uncoordinated, while enormous wings stretched and flapped clumsily from her back, knocking into anything within range.
"Woah, woah, woah—Felicia!" Lydia yelped, spinning too quickly.
"Mom, stop movi—" Felicia rushed forward, but before she could finish, one of the wings smacked her square across the face, making her stumble back.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Lydia gasped, though she bit back a laugh as she tried to reach for her daughter. The attempt only ended with another wing sweeping across the room, toppling over a lamp and scattering even more clutter.
Felicia growled under her breath and charged forward, grabbing Lydia by the shoulders with firm hands. Her jaw clenched as she held her in place. "Stop. Moving. And. Sit. Still!" she hissed through gritted teeth.
"I—I can't help it," Lydia admitted sheepishly, her cheeks tinged pink as her wings gave another nervous flutter. "They've got a mind of their own right now."
Rolling her eyes, Felicia slowly guided her mother toward the bed like she was wrangling a wild animal. Eventually, Lydia sat down, tucking her hands neatly between her thighs as if that would somehow keep her wings from thrashing about. They still twitched and fluttered occasionally, but at least they weren't wreaking havoc anymore.
Felicia pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing deeply. "Okay. First of all—how are you feeling?"
Lydia smirked, her eyes sparkling. "Sweaty. And like I can rule the entire world." She looked down at her hands in awe. "I just feel so strong. So full of life. Is this… is this how you've been feeling all this time?"
"Kinda?" Felicia replied, scratching the back of her head, her top rose with her movement slightly to reveal the firm muscle of her stomach.
Lydia immediately pressed a hand to her own stomach, feeling the firm ridges that hadn't been there before. "Holy hell—do I also have abs too? I do! I actually have abs! And I didn't even have to work for these. What a complete cheat!"
She practically squealed as she flexed her arms next, marveling at the definition in her biceps.
Felicia rubbed her forehead, exasperated. "Unbelievable…"
"Wait," Lydia said suddenly, her playful giddiness shifting into a deadly serious tone. "Don't tell me I have to work hard to maintain this figure now, do I? Not that I mind but it would seriously be a hassle"
Felicia arched a brow at the change in mood. "No. You've got an enhanced metabolism now. Eat whatever you want—it won't ruin your figure. I mean, I've seen MJ shovel food like a black hole and still look like she's about to walk a runway."
Lydia gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. "This… this might be the greatest gift I've ever received." She reached up to touch her face, her expression softening as she noticed details for the first time. "My wrinkles are gone. My skin's smooth again. My hair—look, it's silky! And… no bags under my eyes. Felicia, do you understand? I look ten years younger."
"You're way too excited about this," Felicia muttered, rolling her eyes again.
"You're goddamn right I am!" Lydia shot back with a scoff. "You're still young. You don't know what it's like watching your body betray you. To get tired so quickly, to have your muscles ache from the smallest things, your bones creaking like old wood… it's terrifying, feeling yourself break down piece by piece. Growing weak. Helpless."
"Alright, alright—I get it," Felicia grumbled, throwing her hands up.
"No, you don't," Lydia said, shaking her head, though her giddy grin quickly returned. The joy of newfound strength was written all over her face.
Felicia sighed again and turned toward the door. "Whatever. Let's just get you ready for your checkup with Gwen. And for god's sake—put those damn wings away before you destroy the whole house."
…
Meanwhile, Peter was lying comfortably on his back, hands folded behind his head like a pillow, his hair tousled against the sheets. Gwen straddled him, her body rising and falling in a steady rhythm, the blanket draped lazily across their hips. With every bounce, her breasts moved in sync, brushing against his chest as she braced herself against him, nails occasionally digging into his skin when the sensation became too much to contain.
Peter pushed himself up from the pillows, meeting her halfway. Gwen instinctively wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, clinging to him as their movements grew slower, more deliberate, savoring instead of rushing. Their lips crashed together with a mix of urgency and tenderness, a messy clash of devotion and desire. Gwen threaded her fingers through his hair, clutching the back of his head as if letting go would shatter the moment entirely.
The two of them began to tremble, shuddering with every breath, their groans muffled against each other's mouths. Their bodies locked tight until finally, the tension broke, leaving them stiff for only a heartbeat before melting into relief. They collapsed against one another, foreheads pressed together, their exhales ragged and mingling as they caught their breath in unison.
"We really have to get going," Gwen whispered, her lips brushing against his between words.
Peter chuckled softly, still holding her against his chest. "We really do…" he admitted, though his arms refused to loosen.
"Then let go so we can move," she teased, pressing her palms playfully against his chest as if to push him off.
"You're asking the impossible of me here," Peter sighed dramatically, burying his face into the curve of her neck. He pressed a slow kiss there, inhaling her warmth.
"Peter…" Gwen groaned, though her tone was softened by a laugh. "We're going to be late."
"But what about our pillow talk?" he said pitifully, tilting his head up just enough to look at her with mock despair.
She raised a brow, smirking. "Our pillow talk?"
"Yeah," he said with an exaggerated nod, "arguably the best part of all of this. I mean, how else am I supposed to convince you I'm madly in love with you if we skip it?"
Gwen giggled, unable to help herself. She cupped his face and pulled him into a lingering kiss, her laughter breaking against his lips. "Trust me," she murmured with amusement, "I already know." She leaned close to his ear, her voice dropping into a whisper that made his cheeks burn. "I can feel all your love swimming deep inside me."
Peter's face went scarlet, his composure crumbling instantly. His fluster only made Gwen laugh harder, the sound bubbling out of her as she patted his cheek affectionately. She kissed him once more—quick, mischievous, like a promise—before finally pulling back.
"Come on," she said, stretching her arms over her head, the motion casual yet captivating. "We really need to get a move on. We've got quite a day ahead of us."
They both sighed, reluctant but resigned, their bodies still humming from the closeness. Gwen slipped off the bed, the blanket sliding down around her legs, and with a casual flick of her wrist opened a shimmering portal. She stepped through to her room on the other side, pausing just long enough to catch his gaze. With a knowing smile, she winked before the portal closed, leaving the faint ripple of magic in the air.
Peter leaned back against the mattress, still catching his breath. He exhaled heavily, shaking his head with a crooked grin. "What a dangerous girl," he muttered, before rolling out of bed and finally dragging himself off to get ready as well.
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