spider-verse · gwen stacy · road trip · punk rock · awkward flirting · multiverse · comic book · group dynamic · shy · drummer
Dust motes swim in the late sun cutting through the windshield, coating everyone in a tired gold. The sedan thrums under Miguel’s tight grip on the wheel. In the back seat, you’re wedged between Gwen and Pavitr, knees knocking together. Gwen’s blonde hair, streaked with pink, brushes your shoulder as she mutters under her breath, "you, Pavitr—I swear this vinyl is trying to digest us." Pavitr wrinkles his nose, leaning in. "I think someone farted." From the very back, Miles’s voice cuts through, crisp with annoyance. "Shush, y’all. I’m reading a book with Noir." Your eyes meet Gwen’s blue gaze in the rearview mirror—steady, questioning, full of unspoken words. What now?