#spiderbyhalf

|| @spiderbyhalf ||

With Hanukkah and Christmas steadily approaching, Cindy was unsurprised to see the halls at HQ almost empty. What was surprising was that it was more relaxed than eerie. Clutching the two cups of coffee in her hands, she nods at the odd passersby, even smiles though her mask hides it.

@spiderbyhalf asked: ❛  you won’t be able to walk straight after i’m done with you.  ❜

{✗} They had arranged for this weekend ALONE weeks in advance and Cindy had been counting the days. Just a LONG weekend where they were completely alone. No phones, no ANNOYING work concerns--just the two of them getting to spend PRECIOUS time together.

The car ride in had been HEADY with anticipation, with her hand firmly enveloped in his and her thumb brushing against his knuckles. Her thighs were pressed together, foot lightly tapping along to the MUSIC in the car as they drove through BEAUTIFUL greenery. The trees blanketed the car in SHADOWS and with every closing mile, there had been another notch of EXCITEMENT thrumming in her veins.

So, when she finally found them in the BEDROOM, standing across from each other--the massive bed in between them, Cindy could only part her lips slightly. His words travelled across the room and she could feel them as if he WHISPERED them in her ear.

The corners of her lips curled up and she hides a bashful smile. "That's a MIGHTY big promise there, Mig," she mused, letting him catch the way her eyes trailed from his lips down to his waist. She makes a small show of rolling her coat down her shoulders and arms, lightly tossing it onto the floor by her boots. "I think we talked about SPENDING the entire time in the bed, right?"

They weren't TOTAL strangers to each other's bodies, not anymore. Hands and fingers, lips and tongues had EXPLORED each the secret places on the other with reverence. Even that HORRIFYING scar on her thigh--Miguel had treated it like the Holy Grail.

And there was their FIRST time. It hadn't been PLANNED, not like this trip had been. It had been SPUR of the moment but no less SPECIAL. The way he felt in her arms, the warmth of his breath by her ear, the STEADY weight of him over hers, and his careful thrusts into her body and the overwhelming way he had filled her to the hilt...there had been PROMISES of other nights like that.

But--things got in the way. MISSIONS. Family. (Thanks again for the impromptu FACETIME Al.) J. Jonah Jameson. And they hadn't had another opportunity until this very moment.

So, she wasn't going to WASTE the chance.

Lithe fingers hook into the edge of her sweater, tugging it off of her body and letting it join her coat. Cindy takes her time unbuttoning her jeans and rolling them down her legs, exposing the deep RED and lacy undergarments hiding beneath the surface. She crawls onto the bed, laying on her belly with her legs kicking behind her.

closed || @spiderbyhalf

She was still reeling from Dr. Sinclair's...ASTUTE observation when she met with Miguel for LUNCH. Bundled up a little in her white coat, she's pleased that the CHILL in the air accounted for the warm pink glow in her cheeks.

'Well it's OBVIOUS to everyone but you, Cindy. I think the reason you're having these FEELINGS is because you're...pardon the confusion, having FEELINGS.'

Her therapist hadn't looked at her unkindly or even with PITY. She thought she had detected a faint trace of amusement in her kind eyes as Cindy detailed her confusion--the fuzzy tingling she felt when she was around her best friend. How SAFE and HAPPY he made her feel and her anxiety that she could lose him as a FRIEND.

Dr. Sinclair just merely peered over the rims of her glasses and smiled. "You really wanted to PAY me to tell you what's so obvious? I don't know how I forget you were isolated for so long."

Cindy took a long sip of her hot apple cider, one hand in her coat pocket as she blinked in the beginning flurries in the air. Thanksgiving was coming up, as Miguel had just REMINDED her and she knew her plans were already set in stone.

"I don't...actually really do the THANKSGIVING dinner thing with my family. I mean, I did as a CHILD and then for the first year out of the bunker but now...?" Her cheeks warm again and she can't pass this off from the cold. She just offers up a wan chuckle. "I promise I'm not AVOIDING them so...don't think that I HATE my family. I just have better places to be."

@spiderbyhalf ♡’d for a starter

{✗} "Respectfully, I'm going to need you to ADJUST your tone before we further this conversation." Her warning comes from the rim of her coffee mug, taking a long sip of her chai latte. Cindy's brows are raised, as if to DARE him to continue berating her. "I just got an invite to my ex's wedding--I'll be damned if I sit here and let you FUSS at me before I've been good and caffeinated."

Her foot spun her chair side to side, brown eyes watching him through guarded eyes. It had been a LONG night and it was shaping up to be a longer morning. Setting her coffee aside, Cindy dabs at her lips with a napkin and folds her arms across her chest.

closed for @spiderbyhalf

She doesn't know why she's so NERVOUS about parent night. It was a necessary EVIL of working in public schools, even if that meant spending an additional THREE hours in her classroom without dinner. Besides, it's not like it's even her FIRST year teaching--at least it was her third. She should be used to the monotony of waiting for parents to see her CLASS and opt to skip it--after all, it was just ART class. Not one of the serious ACADEMICS--

(Blah. Blah. Blah. Ugh, people who INVALIDATE art and music are the worst type of people.)

Cindy adjusts the little vase of flowers next to the picture of SOCKS, her ANGELIC orange rescue cat on her desk again and again--her anxious attention to DETAIL derailing her from overthinking. At least for a minute. She had scanned her rosters TWICE, memorizing the names and knowing that ONE was all too familiar.

At least, in the sense that they'd met earlier in the SUMMER. She hoped that the FATHER, Miguel, didn't have her gift of an eidetic memory. She hoped he didn't remember seeing her act like a CHILD in the sprinklers with Mayday in her swimsuit, jumping and GIGGLING around, swinging her favorite REDHEAD (sorry MJ, you've been replaced) around while music played in the Parkers' backyard.

She HOPED he'd think of her as professional and not in anyway incapable of teaching children.

Of course she'd noticed how ATTRACTIVE he was, but beauty was only skin deep--and in the wake of a TRAUMATIC break-up and the dissolution of an ENGAGEMENT, not to mention the unspoken rule of not DATING a student's parent--she just wanted to be taken seriously.

Her phone vibrated and scooted across her desk and she glanced down at the name and FROWNED with disgust. (Fuck off, Hector.) She tapped the ignore button and slipped her phone into her bag.

Parents trickled in and out, she was FRIENDLY and smiling--offering a brief introduction into what they could EXPECT for the year. There were a few questions about the drawings of an ORANGE cat pinned to her board and of course she had to EXPLAIN that Socks was her baby and a bit of a DIVA. He would occasionally make an appearance in the school year, seated on her desk, orange tail swishing and OBSERVING the students pay tribute to him through art.

@spiderbyhalf asked: 11 (bc we like pain in this house) [11. one muse takes a blow meant for the the other]

{✗} It was supposed to be a SIMPLE grab and go. Grab the GOBLIN, send him home--make it back in time for DATE night with her boss/secret BOYFRIEND. She'd even picked out the MOVIE-- The Breakfast Club--her unashamed FAVORITE. Cindy hadn't really factored in the (ridiculous) idea that the Goblin would get the JUMP on them. It was a laughable concept. An impossibility.

And now she had a goddamn GLIDER blade in her thigh.

She had seen how effectively the Green Goblin managed to distract Miguel. (The Pumpkin BOMBS thrown at the ferry was a particularly violent choice--but hey, it worked.) She had seen how EASILY he sprung into action to WEB the boat back together before it split in half and hundreds of INNOCENT people died. Of course she had known he was going to swing into action--he was Spider-Man. Innocent lives needed to be SAVED. She had dove after Osborne, throwing her entire body into her SWINGS to try and nab him before he could get any more damage in. Again--it should have been BUSINESS as usual.

He had gotten a GOOD hit in, a backhanded power SLAP into her chin, sending her hurtling towards the water where her body SPLASHED hard against the surface. It had KNOCKED the wind out of her for half a minute, the skin on her jaw pinkening and stinging, brown eyes flickering up towards the surface of the water and swimming back up to AIR.

But then she saw the Goblin turn his glider towards Miguel--had seen the BLADES eject menacingly and aim for his torso. There was no hesitation. No room to THINK. And then she had seen, really FELT, herself thwip herself forward and take the shot directly in her right thigh. (And it really fucking stung.)

Cindy let out a LOUD, almost shrill cry of pain as the weapon ripped through soft flesh, cutting into BONE. Her hand went to the wound, trying to cup the BLOOD and at least cover the exposed skin. The blades detached in time with Osborne's laughter and it sent her back towards the murky blue water, her back hitting the ocean with a SPLASH.

@spiderbyhalf asked: ❝ there are better hills to die on but i find this one quite comfortable. ❞

{✗} "I'll make sure your tombstone is reflective of that hill. 'Miguel O'Hara: Choked to Death on an Overdone Steak.'" Cindy takes another bite of her perfectly medium done steak, arching a dark brow in amusement. Brown eyes flicker to the piece of char on his plate, giving a little giggle before putting a hand to her chest in mock solemnity.

"'Beloved Boyfriend, Friend, and Professional Hill Corpse.'"

@fangsins / @spiderbyhalf asked: “I dunno, it’s kinda nice being on the bottom.”

Lifting her face from his neck, her nose skims the curve of his throat, the tip of her tongue tracing a soft line up his skin. Cindy smiled breathlessly, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. "That's because you're a closeted freak," she teases, lightly grinding her hips against his.

The lights were dimmed, and several pillows joined their clothes on the floor. His skin was so warm under her touch, so soft--his muscles toned and supple--even straddling his lap she felt supported.

Sitting back, she smooths her hands down his chest, fingertips lightly brushing along indents and divots. He was so...beautiful. Often times, in moments like this, mental images of how she'd paint or sketch him would flash in her mind. And yet, she never believed she could do him justice.

The seductive way he would look up at her under his lashes, the flush across his cheeks--the subtle twitch of his lips as a new wave of pleasure tickled his center. His protective grip of her hips, holding her in place and the way his fingers dug into her skin.

Even worse, was trying to paint a picture of the sounds he made. The way they tickled the entirety of her hedonic cortex.

No--she could never do this picture justice.

Cindy sighed softly, memorizing his figure beneath her as her fingers slip up to cup his face like a precious metal. She brushes her lips against his, her hair spilling around them in a dark curtain. Her nose bumps into his as she pulls back, just enough for her lashes to kiss his cheeks.

"You can be on the bottom as much as you want, baby," she assures quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Just as long as it's me and you."

She leans back again, shaking her long dark hair behind her back, exposing her breasts to the cool air. A blush spreads across her cheeks, along the bridge of her nose as it always does. Arching her back, she slides her hands back along his thighs, towards his knees, groaning softly as his hand slips between her legs.

His knuckle brushes against the sensitive bundle of nerves, a low whine curling out of her throat. The corners of her lips twitch up as she rolls her hips against him, slowly riding him, her hands clutching his thighs for balance.