yuyu

Perfect, she was just perfect.

It seemed like every unconsented click of the camera was posed for, her poised demeanor never faltering - even in her civilian form. So of course, you couldn't help it. You followed her everywhere. It was the only sane thing to do, how could you love her if you didn't know every single detail about her? Would it really be love? Would it really be true? Each drive was filled to the brim with pictures all-

"He's doing it again sir." Donald said, the words only accentuated by an exasperated sigh to the mans ears, "What would you like me to do?"

Cecil could only rub his hand down his face, eyes squeezed shut. If he ignored it, it all would go away.

"God-damnit-" Cecil muttered, cursing under his breathe when his hand slid to cup the back of his head, "Cut the shit, Kid!"

Your head didn't turn even as a loud bang rang through-out the room, Cecil no doubt hitting the wall with his fist. This seemed almost like a daily occurrence, Donald had just gotten used to rerouting your interests, just long enough to help the GDA; but it had been getting harder recently. You were growing up, becoming more aware, more-

"Listen, this is the son of Omni-man." Cecil reasoned, moving to loom behind you as you sat at your laptop. Energy drinks crowded around you, leaving your space a sporadic and filthy mess, only accented with news paper clippings, photos of your current fixated hero - photos you took. He can only sigh, voice growing more irritated by the minute, "The same guy who split Chicago in half, killed thousands in one day.” He clenched his jaw, “Can you imagine what you'll find out? You can take photos of him doing the impossible. You can do whatever you want, just find me a weakness."

...

Silence.

Donald cringed when you didn't answer.

"Fuck-" Cecil hissed, visibly stopping himself from hitting your gaming chair as you scroll through -what had to be thousands- pictures of a certain female hero. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Cecil could only cringe, "Fuck. I have a fucking maniacal scientist, an ex protegee of Darkwing, and a fucking spider; and none of them give a shit about what I have to say! Might as well burn this whole-" Donald flinched when Cecil kicked a trashcan, "-fucking room to the ground."

"Sir." Donald stepped forwards, drawing a folded up piece of paper from the inner works of his tuxedo, "If I may?"

Cecil could only sigh, closing his eyes for a moment of calm before breathing out, "Give it your best shot Donald. Please."

You didn't move as Donald crouched next to your chair, overly used to his presence by now. You lived in the GDA building, and by all accounts, he was your caretaker; he over saw your files, your meals, your training, your tools. Everything. Mostly because Cecil couldn't give a fuck after you ignored him 24/7.

"I have something to show you." Donald offered, watching your eyes scour the computer; pupils blown wide as you looked through your valued collection. Each photo being dopamine after dopamine hit.

You ignore him as he opens up the photo, you ignore him when he mutters a few words, you ignore him when he tries to get your attention with hush pleads, you ignore him when he stands up, you ignore him when-

Your eyes shift, eyes shooting and clicking into place to stare at the photo so quickly that you accidentally scrolled way too down in your photos. Cecil raising an eyebrow when your chair squeaked, slowly turning towards Donald - expressing it's years of wear and tear.

A boy.

A cute one.

A candid. It had to be a highschool yearbook photo, a recent one too; you recognized the type of background. The texture, you know what company used it, and they had only been around for 5 years or so.

His jawline, his sweeping back hair, his puppydog eyes, the way his lips seemed to naturally curve into a little, awkward, smirk.

You don't even look up, mouse moving.

Click.

Cecil's eyebrows shootup, your collection, the one you had just been staring at...

Gone.

"What the hell..." Cecil muttered, grimacing when he glanced over your shoulder at the candid shot of his current number one solution. And also, coincidentally, his number one problem.

"Never underestimate the power of an attractive, teenage boy." Donald coughed awkwardly, "Sir."

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˖

Perfect, he was just perfect.

It seemed like every unconsent click of the camera was posed for, a play - dramatized. He was just so...expressinate! Every pout, every curl of the nose, every clench of the jaw and bite of the cheek! So of course, you couldn't help it. You followed him everywhere. It was the only sane thing to do, how could you love him, know him, if you didn't know every single detail about him? Would it really be love? Would it really be true? Each drive was filled to the brim with pictures all angles and occasions.

School...home...hero work...even the GDA!

You don't miss how Robot's gaze seemed to snap at you whilst you were mid hang. Being the only one to notice you from the ground as you hung upside down from your webs, swinging from an apartment 50 stories up as you clicked every single movement, every single word, all into hundreds, thousands of photos; all for you! And well...Cecil...and the newspaper.

The android seemed devoid of any opinion to Cecils methods, maybe approving, yet he didn't say anything. Not to Rex, not to Eve, and not to...

You sigh dreamily as you snap another photo of him, another moving shot, another one of him leaving school.

So far, here's what you've learned.

He's failing school, he has a recently ex-girlfriend, Eve was totally heads over heels for him, he was born on Janurary 22nd, he enjoys rock music and sad music, because loud music seemed to make his ears hurt. He rubs his hands together and licks his lips when nervous, his eyebrows pinch together when he's lying, and his lips slightly pout at a 22 degree angle when he doesn't get what he wants.

You can't imagine how you could be so lucky. To meet him, to watch over him, to protect him, to take photos of him. It was all a dream come true! He was so strong, and firm, and gorgeous, and you loved the way his eyebrows furrowed whenever he looked at the Daily Bugles new front page; seeing a closeup of him in his invincible suit. Confusion dousing his face. You love how he visible gets more paranoid, looking around and even hesitating to take his mask off in private before checking each dusty nick and cranny.

Of course, he'll never find you. Your camera is webbed to the ceiling, and you're not far away, fawning endlessly as you hang from a web hooked to a balcony.

You changed your whole world so he could be your new one, and he doesn't even know it yet! He doesn't know how you stopped eating cucumbers because he doesn't like the taste of them, he doesn't know how you started drinking coffee just because he likes the smell, he doesn't know how you changed the time you wake up just to catch him before he flies to school each morning, he doesn't know how you touch yourself to his pictures everyday, just so you wont be some 2 second chump when you finally get to him. He'll never know, because when you meet, when you're finally flesh to flesh, he'll think he's found his true love; the most perfect, fun-loving, beautiful boyfriend ev-

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

"Who the hell is this, and why is he following me around like some- some-" Mark hesitates, and you can only grin in this sick way that makes his skin crawl when he squeezes your throat tighter -hand unconsciously tensing. Your Spider-Man mask bunched up just enough to reveal your mouth and nose, yet not your face, "Some sicko!"

"Mark, I can explain." Cecil sighed, clicking his tongue in disappoint at how fast you had been caught. You weren’t used to a hero so fast, you had gotten cocky, dare he say sloppy, "You can put him down, he's one of my men."

"Yea, obviously." Mark scoffs, his eyebrows furrowing in that little way you like behind his mask; goggles glinting in the light and you just want to squeal, "This guy, has been following me around, taking pictures of me-" Mark hesitates, groaning, "In really unnice, and very private, no people around, places!"

Cecil groans, running a hand down his face as if this was just a normal Tuesday, "What did I say about nude photos."

Mark gapes, "There are nude photos!? W-What!? What the hell is going on Cecil!? And you better tell me, before I do something we both don’t like!"

"So clearly you weren't talking about those private places..." Cecil muttered to himself, glancing over at Y/n half-heartedly before returning his gaze to Mark, "Like I said, he's one of mine."

That doesn't make it any better though! Sinclair, that weird- Darkwing two guy-" Mark hesitates, glancing over at your blue turning face, "and now this!? What is your problem!? It's like your trying to kill me, I thought we got past this!" Mark paused, jaw clenching and he went quiet in relaztion, "Wait, are you trying to kill me?"

"Holy shit kid-" Cecil laughed, a shocked chuckle emitting throughout the room, "Come on now, why would I put my best solider down?" He paused, face growing serious, he voice dropping an octave, "But since you asked...my problem is that we couldn't stop your father from splitting Chicago in half. My problem is that I have a whole world of people to protect, from a species, a world, we know nothing about. So yes, Mark. If that means I have to recruit the crazy's of the world to potentially save it? I'll do it." Cecil sighed, locking eyes with him, "Because its apart of the job."

It's dead silent, the room tense and practically dripping with hostility; Mark is about to open his mouth, those soft lips of his parting, yet his eyebrows furrow, and he hesitates. So you decide to help him out,

"He w-wants-" You cough, voice straining from the squeeze; and you can't help the way your heats cheeks up from more than just the lack of air, "t-to say he's...GASPPPP- not his f-father-"

Marks head snaps over, and you almost cry when he looks at you; disgusted, scared, revolted, maybe even defensively, but it doesn't matter, because he's finally looking at you. It was no longer you staring from a distance, kissing the photos you pinned on the wall every day, it was him. You can’t help the way your lips curl up in satisfaction.

"W-What-?" Mark muttered, eyebrows arching down.

Cecil sighed, rubbing his temple, "Then for gods sake Mark, prove it. Let the kid go."

Mark hesitates, but in the end seems much to eager to let you go; tripping back in an attempt to get away from you, and the sickening grin you have staring right back at him.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

Mark doesn't see you anywhere.

That's what freaks him out.

Rudy told him that you've been stalking around him for months, not weeks, but months; ever since the guy was still a robot named Robot. He can't help the chill that shoots him in the spine whenever he begins to take off his clothes, feeling as if there were eyes in the wall, in the floor, everywhere. The curtains could be pulled shut as tightly as possible, and he would still fall asleep in his hero suit unwilling to change.

What about his mom? Were you watching her too? Were you a threat? Or just some creep Cecil kept around to fuck with him.

He just doesn't understand how you're doing it.

The first time he saw his closeup in the Daily Bugle? He was impressed, flattered. Rex was pissed, so that was a plus. He had made the front page of a highly accredited newspaper, and it only made his brownie points for the city go up more. The second time it was the same. The third time, he began questioning how a -anonymous- photographer, was getting so many good closeup photos of him. Clear enough to see the pimple on his chin, the same one he had been so conscious to cover up at school that very day.

Could you turn invisible? Did Cecil give you some sort of tech? Just what were you doing to evade him?

Then he found the camera. Well, Eve did, the expensive piece of tech just tucked snug into a corner; held intact by spiderwebs.

Then he started noticing the extreme amount of cobwebs showing up lately.

Then he realized they weren't cobwebs.

"I don't know if I should be disgusted by a giant spider or...like- where do the webs even come from? Like- I mean- do you just- actually don't tell me, I don't wanna know." Mark mutters awkwardly, floating mid-air; your camera clutched in his hand as your crawling up some random skyscraper wall.

Your suit is interesting, no doubt a work of Art's, spiderwebs connecting to create some intricate design. Wide lenses acting as eyes, staring into his soul. He shudders, teeth clenching. The wind was so loud you had to use the GDAs linked up com-sync as you both loomed over the city. Marks jaw tightens, "Thought you'd want this back."

He cringes when you detach your arms from the building, defying gravity as you stood on the wall with your own two feet; catching the camera.

Your heart flutters as you graze the SIM-card inside the tech, lips already curling and heart racing. All you had to do now was get the one from the corner of his room and you'd be good to go,

"You can tell Cecil he's never gonna learn anything I don't want him to." Mark snaps, crossing his arms, "You can also tell him that if I see you again, I'm out. I don't need his help, especially when theres some stalker watching me."

"I'm not a stalker." You grin, a pretty grin, a nice one. The only thing giving a hint at what you could look like under your mask. Around him, your mask always seemed to be bunched up. Just enough to see your mouth, just enough to tease, just enough to haunt, and he hated it.

Marks heart churns.

The way your lips curl up, the way your breath heavied, the way your eyes became half lided and heavy. It freaked him out. You were looking at him like some piece of meat, some piece of prey, and he thinks he's actually going to be sick.

"Y-Yea you- you tell him that and- u-uh-" Mark's words die in his throat before they even have the chance of life, "Stay away from my family!"

He doesn't look back as he shoots away like a shooting bullet.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

"You mean that creep still works for Cecil?" Eve scoffed, raising an eyebrow as she slammed her locker shut.

"You know this weirdo, Eve?" William questioned, sipping greedily on a soda; leaning against a locker close to hers. Mark was anxiously scrolling through the daily bugles online paper again, eyes drifting against the high quality picture of him as Invincible now circulating around.

"Know him? God, he almost made it onto the Teen Team." Eve scoffed, eyebrows furrowing, "Rex had some fixation on him for a bit, something about a 'Spider-Person', but Cecil wouldn't even look into allowing him join."

"What, why?" Mark asked, dark eyes looking up.

"Well, clearly this guys a sicko." William scoffed, pointing at Eve, "The old man probably didn't want to risk him watching the rest of you guys in your sleep."

"He would..." Eve groaned, hand coming to soothe her forehead; shaking her head, "No, apparently he's had some trouble back in the day, before Cecil scouted him out."

"Ohhh, I see." William wiggled his eyebrows, grinning ear to ear. He turned to Mark, voice turning spooking, "So he has some dark and mysterious backstory, huh? Hope he doesn't jump out and web you up Mark."

"Dude!" Mark scowled.

"Look." Eve put her hands up, swinging her bag over her shoulder, "To be honest, I haven't even had a conversation with him; but even he gives me the creeps. He's the only way Cecil even finds out the identity of most Hero's. How do you think the GDA found all the old Guardians of the globe?" She scoffed, raising an eyebrow at Mark, "He sent the guy to Russia, just to find Red Rush's family."

"Creeeepyyyy." William muttered.

Mark step forwards, senses flaring, "What, so he's like- gonna stalk my mom too?"

"Not to be that guy but uhh..." William sucked in a breathe, biting his bottom lip sheepishly, "He probably already is."

"This is crazy!" Mark spat, some people pausing to look at them. He groaned, biting his lower lip before lowering his voice, "My-" He hesitated, "My dad, he was in the hero business my whole life. I haven't even heard of this...Bug-Guy!"

"Spider-Man." Eve corrected.

"W-Whatever!" Mark sighed in exasperation, looking around, "I just need to get him, out of my life, and away from my mom."

"Eve." William said experimentally, glancing cautiously at the girl, "You said he almost joined Teen Team...right?"

"Uh." Eve raised an eyebrow, confused, "Yea?"

"Then that means he's our age?" William question.

"Probably?" Eve shrugged.

"Which means he's a teenager." William muttered.

"Dude!" Mark urged, "just get to the point!"

William looked around, eyes shifting before leaning in; huddling closer to the two, "Then...tell me if I'm wrong here but uh..." He chuckled nervously, looking around, "Doesn't that mean he's in highschool? Where we are right now?"

Mark paused, eyebrows shooting up.

"I mean!" Mark laughed nervously, "It could be any highschool, including that shitty one down the road-!"

"No. I know how Cecil works." Mark muttered, joining his friend in looking around; watching students walk past them, most not shooting them even a glance, "Shit."

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

Mark doesn't know what to do, he's staring at his phone, eyes distant. How is he supposed to tell his mom he can't come home because some Spider guy is stalking him? How is he supposed to tell her to stay at a hotel? Is a hotel safe? Is anywhere safe? This guy had been around for months, who knows what he knew.

"You okay Mark?"

He sighs, groaning as he throws himself back into the grass; hand running down his face before he throws his phone next to him, "Yes, maybe, no- fuck." He groans again, this time gutturally before he looks over at you.

He can't help the small flush that comes to his ears. Your a dream, a fairy tail. Your hair is being blown gently by the breeze, your lips are parted ever so slightly, and your eyes glint in the sunlight perfectly -staring right at him. You're just so soft, so perfect.

Your camera sits idly in your hands, halfly in your lap as you sit against a tree. Your eyebrow quirks at him, "You're acting weird again."

"It's nothing." He mutters, forcing his eyes back towards the sky; his ears only flushing more in embarrassment after he caught himself staring. Yet its hard to keep his eyes away, he looks back over at you, "Sorry, just..." He can't tell you, "School stuff." He can never tell you.

Him and Amber broke up because he was a stupid boyfriend, a horrible boyfriend, an idiot, but also partly because he was invincible -which you have no clue about. He can't make the same mistakes, can't do all the stupid things he did with Amber with you; you're his.

Your chuckle lightly, yet the noise doesn't meet your face; always flat - no- serene is more like it, "It's not because I cancelled last night last minute, right?

Mark shoots up, watching as you look back at your camera, "W-What!? N-No, no, that's totally not it- definitely..." He mutters awkwardly. Truthfully, he's glad you cancelled, he was too caught up fighting the stupid Lizard League to make it to your date. Plus...he might've, kinda, maybe...forgot.

He was always lucky with you. You cancelled before he could 50 percent of the time, when he was late -you were too. When he had to go away for 2 weeks on some mission, and he spews some bullshit - you're okay with it, admitting you're busy and might go visit some family for two weeks because of it. You're directly in tune, like two dance partners perfectly in sync. It's like the universe made you for him. Your skin was so soft and warm, your fingers held against his so tightly, and you almost never got upset with him; hearing him out for everything. Not to mention, you hated cucumbers too. And he loved when he came home to you already there, talking to his mother whilst drinking coffee that he just loved the aroma of. He loved that you got up before him, sending him sweet Good Morning messages for him to wake up too before he flew to schools. He loved your bedroom life. You seemed more experience than him, whether it be with your finger or tongue swirling around his tip; forcing it to drool or dribble over you. How long you lasted was evident too, you always had him filling you up twice; thrusting in and out of you at dizzying speeds. Yet you lasted for rounds and rounds at a time. It honestly worked perfectly, his Viltrumite genes had him like a dog in heat sometimes, and the way you kept up with him only egged him on.

"Just checking." You mutter in the same way you always do, too immersed in what ever photos you're reviewing on your camera. Your voice isn't calm though, it's serene, like you finally got everything you ever wanted. It confused him sometimes, he's never seen you smile even though you always seem happy, "You know I could never be mad at you Mark."

"Sometimes I think that's a bad thing." He teased, grin glinting in the light. He paused, thoughtful, "Hey tell you what, I heard that Paris got this new pastry shop, super popular, I could uhh..." He rubs the back of his neck, "Order them...?"

"I think they'd be hard when they got here." You shake your head a bit, clicking your tongue in amusement, "I told you Mark, it's alright. We'll just go out next Sunday."

"No! You know like, I could uh....get them imported! Yea! Maybe first day delivery if it's possible. I know you like pastries." He looks at you like a hopeful puppy dog, but you're still scrolling through that camera of yours. He huffs, "Come on!" He rolls next to you, it's quick, sudden, and he can tell it startles you as he slings his arm around your shoulder, "Chocolate croissants, cre-" He pauses, he fucking pauses. His eyes wandering down to your camera.

What.

What the fuck.

That photo...

He's in his invincible suit, he recognizes it. The angle, the lighting, the way his lips are curled, the way his body is sat, the way his muscles are flexed, the way his skin is bruised.

A chill runs shoots down his spine.

Horror.

Your finger is frozen on the next button, not looking up at him, hair curtaining your face

Relization.

His arm slips from your shoulders, "You uh-" he swallowed, shifting away from you slightly, and he can't help the way his voice breaks, "Hah- uhhh, hey so- that picture, it was on the Daily Bugles front page the other day right?"

His heart is pounding in his ears.

His lung constrict.

His breathes become panicked.

"How do you..." He goes quiet, his eyes watching as you slowly look up; and fuck, you're smiling.

It's filthy, disgusting, nauseating.

His stomach churns.

The way your lips curl up -knowing, sick, taunting. The way your eyes become half lidded just like that sickos lenses - looking at him like you're carving him out, like some fine piece of meat. The abhorrent way his brain flashes back. When he was choking that spider, when he met him next to that skyscraper, the way the others grin curled, churned, the way that grinned haunted him every night when he drew the curtains tight; trying to sleep whilst buried under his covers. Suddenly he was brought back to that day by the skyscraper.

Meat.

Piece of prey.

His eyes widen.

Oh.

Oh.