𝐺͟𝑤͟𝑒͟𝑛͟.

If someone needs her, she’ll be found hogging a box of chocolate in her bedroom. A content Gwen.

/ the urge to make a cindy moon with jung hoyeon as my faceclaim. decisions, decisions. 🤔

If only, but her mom’s dragging her over to finalise some Christmas shopping.

Stretches her arms and yawns. Still sleepy.

“Now here I thought your Spidey senses would prevent a fall like this.” There’s a teasing smile on her lips before she lets go of his hand, noticing the confused expression from the spider eyes of his mask. Her head tilts to the side. “Are you sure you don’t have a concussion?”

A book in hand, a cup of tea in the other. Perfect way to start her Sunday morning.

Brows furrowed in confusion at the sudden comment, her gaze on Peter as a small grin etched at the corners of her lips. “I’m pretty sure we’re not on a plane right now, Peter. . ”

Brushing off the dust from her skirt, her gaze settled on the unfamiliar face, a confused expression appearing at the mention of Gwen being. . 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝. “One minute I’m falling, and the next I’m here. . ” Her eyes widen at the mention of Peter’s name. “Peter! Where is he?”

. . She wishes that she could say the same to him, but she can’t recall whether they’ve briefly met or not. The name’s Gwendolyne Stacy, but most just call her Gwen. Quite the mouthful, right.