[Luke’s POV]

The soft glow of the TV bathes Skye’s penthouse in a cool. I’m sprawled on the plush leather couch, game controller in hand, my eyes fixed on the screen where blocky landscapes stretch out far into the distance.

Beside me, Tyrell sits criss-cross applesauce on the floor, his red jacket a vibrant splash of color against the muted tones of the luxurious apartment. His white helmet gleams in the television’s light, reflecting tiny cubes and creatures as he furiously taps away at his controller.

“I can’t believe we got lucky with this one,” Tyrell says, his voice slightly muffled by his helmet but filled with genuine excitement. “Not every universe has Minecraft, you know.”

I pause my digging, my blocky avatar frozen mid-swing. “Wait, what?” I ask, turning to look at Tyrell. “Which universe doesn’t have Minecraft?”

Tyrell’s hands were still on his controller, his body tensing slightly. He’s in the middle of constructing a shitty castle.

“The hot dog dimension,” he says, the words coming out in a rush.

I blink, trying to process this bizarre piece of information. “The what?” I ask, unable to keep the incredulity out of my voice.

Tyrell sighs heavily, his shoulders slumping. His hands move again, placing blocks with mechanical precision as if the repetitive action brings him comfort. “Too many bad memories, man,” he mutters. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

I try not to laugh and say, “Alright.” I pause for a moment, then ask, “Hey, you were part of a superhero team, right? What was its name?”

Tyrell tilts his helmet thoughtfully, the blank white surface somehow conveying a sense of deep contemplation. Just as he seems about to answer, a shrill ringtone pierces the air.

Tyrell jumps to his feet with surprising agility, his red jacket swishing around him. He holds up a finger in the universal “one-second” gesture, the movement crisp and precise. I watch as he paces across the plush carpet, his posture shifting from relaxed to alert in an instant.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I’ll head over now,” Tyrell says into his phone, his voice low and urgent. There’s a pause, filled only by the soft ambient sounds of our neglected Minecraft world. “Yeah. I get it.”

Finally, Tyrell ends the call with a heavy sigh that seems to deflate his entire body. He turns back to me, his helmet tilted in a way that somehow conveys apology and resignation.

“Hey man,” Tyrell says, his voice tinged with regret. “I gotta go for a bit, alright?”

“Alright.” I respond.

“Do you want me to take you to Star Tower? It’s probably safer there.” The concern in his voice is palpable, hanging in the air between us like a tangible thing.

I stare at Minecraft on the screen, my eyes fixed on the half-finished redstone contraption I’ve been working on for the past hour. The intricate network of red dust and pistons is slowly taking shape, forming what will eventually be a massive, veiny dick rising proudly from the blocky landscape. The thought of abandoning it now, when I’m so close to completion, is almost physically painful.

“Nah, dude,” I say, not taking my eyes off the screen. My fingers move almost of their own accord, placing blocks and adjusting redstone with practiced ease. “Don’t worry, it’s fine here. This is my home now anyway.”

Tyrell nods, the movement causing the city lights to dance across the smooth surface of his helmet. “Alright, dude,” he says, his voice a mixture of resignation and lingering concern. “Stay safe.”

I tear my gaze away from the screen for a moment, meeting the blank face of Tyrell’s helmet. “You too.”

Tyrell pops a rock out of his pocket and holds it tight. There’s a moment of stillness, and then, with a soft pop, Tyrell vanishes. The space where he stood just seconds ago is now empty except for a little bit of dust from the rock he held, which seemed to turn to sand upon his teleport.

“Thanks for leaving me with a mess, bud.” I say, a little annoyed.

*****

[Mind Mistress’s POV]

I sit in my dimly lit office at Star Tower, the glow of multiple screens casting an eerie blue light across my face. My eyes are fixed on the central monitor, which displays a live feed from Super Star’s penthouse. The camera, expertly hidden during the renovations after The Rapist’s attack, provides a crystal-clear view of the luxurious living room.

My breath catches in my throat as I watch Tyrell vanish into thin air, leaving Luke alone in the vast apartment. The realization of what I’m seeing hits me like a physical force, causing me to lean back in my plush leather chair, my jaw slacks with disbelief.

“He left him,” I whisper, the words barely audible even in the silence of my office. “He actually left him alone.”

My mind races with the possibilities this presents. With Super Star off battling some alien threat, and Tyrell now mysteriously absent, Luke is more vulnerable than he’s ever been. The opportunity I’ve been waiting for has finally arrived, gift-wrapped and served on a silver platter.

For a moment, I consider setting our original plan in motion. The idea of orchestrating Luke’s violation, of pushing Super Star over the edge, is tempting. It’s a clear path to our ultimate goal, a way to turn the world’s greatest hero into its greatest threat.

“No, I want Tyrell permanently out of the picture before we try that.” I sigh to myself.

As I watch Luke on the screen, a different desire begins to take root. It’s a hunger that goes beyond our carefully laid plans, beyond the machinations of villainy. It’s something primal, visceral, and undeniably personal.

I find myself leaning closer to the screen, drinking in every detail of Luke’s face. The way his brow furrows in concentration as he plays his dumb little game.

“I could taste him,” I murmur, my voice filled with desire. “Just a little sample before...”

I stand up abruptly, my decision made. “Fuck it,” I mutter, smoothing down my tailored suit. “I’ve been dealing with Super Star’s messes for years. Why not take a little romp with her fiancé? It’s not like he’ll remember when I’m done with him.”

A wicked smile spreads across my face as I stride towards the door, my heels clicking against the polished floor. The sound echoes through the empty corridors of Star Tower, a rhythmic beat that matches the quickening of my pulse.

*****

I stand at the base of the gleaming skyscraper, craning my neck to take in its towering height. The building seems to pierce the very sky, its sleek glass and steel facade reflecting the twinkling city lights like a massive jewel. At the very top, barely visible from street level, is Super Star’s penthouse, my destination.

I pause before the intercom, my finger hovering over the button. My heart races with anticipation, a mixture of excitement and nervousness coursing through my veins. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I press the buzzer. There’s a brief crackle of static, then a familiar voice filters through the speaker.

“Skye Star’s apartment,” Luke answers, his tone casual and slightly muffled.

“Hello, Luke, it’s me, Veronica Vale,” I reply, injecting warmth into my voice. “We met the other day. I need to come up to drop some documents off for Super Star.”

There’s a pause, filled only by the sound of aggressive chip crunching. I can almost picture Luke sprawled on that luxurious couch, with a bag of chips in hand and crumbs likely scattered across his shirt.

Finally, Luke’s voice comes through again, clearer this time and tinged with suspicion. “Nah, this is sus as fuck.”

I stand there, momentarily stunned by Luke’s refusal. The city bustles around me, oblivious to the drama unfolding at the base of this gleaming tower.

“Tell me something only we would know,” Luke’s voice crackles through the intercom, muffled slightly by what I assume is another mouthful of chips.

“Uhhhh,” I stammered, caught off guard by his question. My mind races, searching for some tidbit of information that might convince him. “You didn’t know Skye’s mother was the CEO of the Super Stars,” I blurt out, grasping at straws.

“Oh yeah,” Luke finally responds, his voice clearer now. He lets out a heavy sigh that crackles through the speaker. “I’m still not gonna let you up, though. It’s too scary, sorry.”

I feel a mixture of emotions wash over me. Frustration at being so close yet so far from my goal. Annoyance at the unexpected obstacle Luke’s caution presents. But beneath it all, there’s a surprising undercurrent of... respect?

Here’s this man, alone in a world he barely understands, surrounded by beings of immense power and unfathomable danger. And yet, he has the presence of mind to be cautious, to question, to protect himself. It’s... admirable, in a way.

A small part of me, a piece I usually keep buried deep beneath layers of villainous ambition, feels a twinge of something akin to a mothers pride in her child. It’s nice to see Luke taking his safety seriously.

I shake my head, trying to clear these unexpected thoughts. “I understand Luke,” I say, infusing my voice with warmth and understanding. “You’re absolutely right to be cautious. These are dangerous times, after all.”

There’s another pause, shorter this time. “Thanks for understanding,” Luke replies, his voice softer now, almost apologetic.

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I turn away from the intercom, a wicked smile spreading across my face. “Poor Luke, doing everything right, and yet he’s still going to betray his love today. What. A. Tragedy.”

I stride confidently towards the private elevator reserved for penthouse access. The polished doors gleam in the soft lighting of the lobby, reflecting my determined expression. I punch in the override code with practiced ease.

As the elevator ascends, I check my reflection in the mirrored walls. My dark hair falls in perfect waves around my face, framing eyes that sparkle with anticipation. The soft hum of the elevator is like a countdown to my moment of triumph.

With a soft ding, the doors slide open, revealing the opulent interior of Super Star’s penthouse. The space is bathed in the warm glow of ambient lighting, highlighting the luxurious furnishings and floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a breathtaking view of the city below.

Luke is sprawled on the plush leather couch, just as I anticipated, his attention fixed on the massive TV screen where his game is paused. As the elevator doors open, his head snaps towards me, eyes widening in shock and confusion.

“Wait, Veronica?” Luke stammers, scrambling to sit up straighter. “I didn’t let you in, though.”

I step into the penthouse, my heels clicking softly against the polished hardwood floor. A predatory smile plays at my lips as I meet Luke’s bewildered gaze.

“I’m sorry, dear, but today is not your day,” I purr, my voice dripping with false sympathy.

Luke’s eyes widen in alarm. He leaps up from the couch, chips scattering across the floor as he makes a desperate dash for the terrace doors. His bare feet slap against the hardwood, each step echoing in the vast space of the penthouse.

We make eye contact as he runs.

“Stop,” I command, my voice low and sultry.

Luke freezes mid-stride, his body going rigid as if struck by lightning. He turns slowly, almost mechanically, to face me. His eyes lock with mine, and I watch with fascination as a faint purple glow spreads across his irises. It’s a beautiful sight, the way my power seeps into him, bending his will to mine.

“What are you doing?” Luke yells, his voice tinged with panic and confusion. I can see the struggle playing out across his face, his mind fighting against my control even as his body remains motionless.

“I’m Skye, not Veronica,” I convey to him how I wish to be viewed.

The purple glow deepens in Luke’s eyes as I release my hold on him. For a moment, he blinks rapidly, disoriented. Then, his face lights up with joy and relief.

“Skye, honey! You’re home early!” Luke exclaims. He rushes towards me, arms outstretched.

As Luke rushes towards me, arms outstretched for an embrace, I halt his momentum by reaching directly for his crotch. My fingers curl around the bulge in his pants, feeling him harden instantly at my touch. A thrill runs through me at his immediate response.

“I want you now,” I purr. My eyes locked on Luke’s face.

The effect is instantaneous. Luke’s eyes, glowing that mesmerizing purple, grow hazy with desire. His pupils dilate, and his breath catches in his throat. He looks utterly intoxicated, completely under my spell. A smirk tugs at my lips as I drink in his desperate expression.

Suddenly, Luke grabs my hand. His grip is firm yet gentle as he starts pulling me towards the bedroom with an urgency that takes me by surprise. “Yes, yes, please,” he murmurs.

As we cross the threshold into the bedroom, I’m struck by the intimacy of the space. This is Skye and Luke’s special place, their sanctuary. The air feels charged, heavy with the weight of countless tender moments and passionate encounters. For a brief instant, I feel like an intruder.

But then Luke’s lips crash into mine, banishing all hesitation. The kiss is eager, almost desperate. His hands come up to cup my face, fingers tangling in my hair as he pours every ounce of his love and desire into the kiss. It’s passionate and hungry yet loving.

I find myself responding instinctively, my body melting into his embrace. My hands roam across his body.

“I missed you so much, Skye,” he murmurs against my skin, each word punctuated by a soft kiss. “I love you. I need you.”

As Luke’s hands begin to roam my body with a deep intimacy, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. The raw emotion in his touch, the love shining in those purple-tinged eyes, it’s unlike anything I’ve encountered before.

I shake off these unexpected feelings, focusing instead on the task at hand. “Strip for me,” I command, my voice a sultry purr.

To my surprise, Luke doesn’t even hesitate. There’s no telltale purple glow in his eyes, no sign that my powers are at work. He simply begins undressing with eager enthusiasm, his gaze never leaving mine. It’s as if my words alone are enough to compel him, his desire to please “Skye” overriding everything else.

I watch, mesmerized, as Luke reveals himself to me. His movements are unhurried yet purposeful, each article of clothing discarded with care. There’s an innocence to his actions, a purity of intention that stands in stark contrast to my own ulterior motives.

Caught up in the moment, I find myself following suit. First I drop my jacket. Next my fingers work at the buttons of my blouse, then the clasp of my skirt. Soon, I stand before him as naked as he is, my carefully cultivated image as the prim and proper CFO shed along with my clothes.

Luke’s eyes roam over my body with unconcealed adoration. There’s hunger in his gaze, yes, but also a reverence that takes my breath away. Before I can fully process this, he’s on me, his lips pressing fervent kisses along my neck, my collarbone, my breasts.

I pull him towards the bed, my back hitting the soft sheets as he follows, his body covering mine. Luke’s lips trail down my stomach, his breath hot against my skin. When he reaches the apex of my thighs, he pauses, looking up at me with those adoring eyes.

“I love you,” he declares, his voice thick with emotion. Then his mouth is on me, his tongue playing at my wet folds with practiced skill.

I arch into his touch, a moan escaping my lips. This isn’t how I planned things to go, but I find myself swept away by the intensity of Luke’s devotion. His every action is focused solely on my pleasure, on worshipping my body as if it were a temple.

As waves of pleasure begin to build within me, I manage to gasp out, “Wait... I’m tired today. I want you to do all the work.”

Luke immediately responds, pulling away from between my thighs and moving back up my body. He peppers my face with soft kisses before positioning himself above me. “Of course, my love,” he whispers, his eyes shining. “Let me take care of you.”

I gaze into Luke’s eyes. “Pookie, I want you to fuck me harder than you’ve ever fucked me before.”

Luke nods, a look of intense concentration on his face. He positions himself above me, his muscles taut with anticipation. I feel the tip of his hard cock pressing against my pussy, sending sparks of pleasure through my body.

With one smooth motion, Luke thrusts deep inside me. The feeling is divine. He fills me completely, stretching me in the most delicious way. I can’t help but let out a long, low moan as he begins to move, starting with slow, gentle strokes.

“Harder, Luke,” I gasp out between thrusts. “Fuck me like your life depends on it.”

Luke obliges immediately, picking up his pace. His hips snap forward with increased force and speed, driving into me relentlessly. The room fills with the sounds of our passion, skin slapping against skin, breathless moans, and grunts of pleasure.

I wrap my legs around Luke’s waist, pulling him even deeper. My nails rake down his back as waves of ecstasy wash over me. Luke’s face is a mask of concentration and bliss as he pounds into me with abandon.

“Yes, yes, just like that!” I cry out, arching my back to meet his powerful thrusts. Every nerve ending in my body feels electrified, building towards an explosive climax.

I watch Luke desperately trying not to cum too soon, his face a mask of intense concentration. There’s something undeniably endearing about his determination to please me, to hold back his own pleasure for my sake.

I can feel him throbbing inside me, so close to the edge. His thrusts become erratic, his breathing ragged. Luke’s eyes are squeezed shut, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he fights against his body’s urges. It’s adorably futile, and I find it utterly charming.

Gently, I place my hand behind his head, fingers tangling in his hair. I pull him close, my lips brushing against his ear as I whisper the command.

“Cum for me, Luke. Now.”

His eyes fly open, meeting mine. For a split second, I see that telltale purple flash across his irises. Then, with a guttural groan, Luke obeys.

I feel him swell inside me, then the hot rush of his release. Pulse after pulse of his seed floods my depths, triggering my own climax. The sensation of his cum painting my inner walls sends me spiraling into ecstasy.

A wild, unrestrained moan tears from my throat as waves of pleasure crash over me. My back arches, pressing my body flush against Luke’s as my inner muscles clench around him rhythmically, milking every last drop from him.

As our shared orgasm begins to subside, Luke collapses on top of me, his weight a comforting presence. Our bodies are slick with sweat, chests heaving as we struggle to catch our breath. I can feel the rapid beat of his heart against my breast, gradually slowing to a steadier rhythm.

In this moment of post-coital bliss, an unexpected wave of emotion washes over me. Guilt, an unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation, begins to creep into the edges of my consciousness.

I’ve manipulated countless people over the years, used them for my own gain without a second thought. But this... this feels different. The raw vulnerability Luke showed, the depth of his love and trust for Skye, it’s shaken something loose inside me.

For the first time in my villainous career, I find myself questioning my actions. The guilt intensifies, a heavy weight settling in my chest. I’ve never once felt bad about my schemes before, always justifying them as necessary steps towards a greater goal. But now, with Luke’s warm body pressed against mine, his breath soft against my neck, I’m struck by the magnitude of my betrayal against this pure, innocent soul.

I wonder for a moment if I could ever have him as my own..... Perhaps. I’ll have to reconsider my plans. The thought sends an unexpected thrill through me, a mixture of excitement and trepidation that I’ve rarely experienced in my villainous career.

As I lie there, Luke’s warmth still enveloping me, I find my mind wandering, imagining a future I’ve never considered before. I picture lazy Sunday mornings spent tangled in silk sheets, Luke’s laughter echoing through a sun-drenched apartment. I see us walking hand in hand through a moonlit park, sharing secrets and dreams under a canopy of stars. The visions are so vivid, so enticing, that for a moment, I lose myself in their allure.

But reality crashes back in, harsh and unforgiving. I’m not Skye. I’m not the woman he loves, the one he’s pledged his heart and future to. I’m an interloper, a thief who’s stolen a precious moment that wasn’t meant for me. The weight of this realization settles over me like a shroud, heavy and suffocating.

I sigh, the sound filled with a complexity of emotions I’m not used to dealing with. “Luke, look at me,” I say, my voice soft yet commanding.

Luke’s eyes meet mine, still hazy with bliss. I watch as the purple glow slowly flows across his irises. It’s beautiful in its own way, the swirling tendrils of color that bend his will to mine. But for the first time, the sight fills me with a deep sense of unease.

“I order you to go take a shower, then clean this room. Forget everything thats happened since I came here. You spent your time playing your game and decided to take a shower and clean.” I command, my voice steady despite the turmoil in my heart.

The effect is instantaneous. Luke’s eyes light up with that purple glow, his expression becoming blank and compliant. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements mechanical. He heads towards the bathroom, not even glancing back at me as he goes.

As the bathroom door clicks shut behind him, I’m left alone in the vast expanse of the bedroom. The silence is deafening, broken only by the distant sound of water starting to run. I sit up slowly, the sheets pooling around my waist, and survey the room.

Evidence of our encounter is everywhere. Discarded clothes strewn across the floor, rumpled sheets bearing the imprint of our bodies, the faint scent of sex lingering in the air. It’s all so tantalizingly real, yet in a few moments, it will be as if it never happened. At least for Luke.

I sigh again, this time the sound tinged with resignation. I need to leave sooner rather than later. The longer I stay, the greater the risk of discovery.

“Goodbye, my beautiful Pookie,” I whisper as I get changed.

*****

[Luke’s POV]

The warm water cascades over my body, steam rising in lazy spirals around me. As I stand under the shower’s soothing spray, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m forgetting something important. It’s like trying to grasp at wisps of smoke. The harder I try to remember, the more elusive the memory becomes.

Stepping out of the shower, I wrap a fluffy towel around my waist and wipe the condensation from the mirror. My reflection stares back at me. For a moment, I could swear I see a flash of purple in my eyes, but I blink and it’s gone. Must have been a trick of the light.

After drying off and getting dressed in comfy sweats and a t-shirt, I head back into the bedroom. The sight of the rumpled sheets on the massive bed sends another wave of deja vu washing over me. Didn’t I make the bed this morning? I could have sworn I did, but clearly, that’s not the case.

With a sigh, I set about straightening up. The sheets whisper against my hands as I smooth them out, tucking in corners and fluffing pillows until the bed looks passable. Skye says she could care less if the bed is made, but I think it’s nice if she comes home to a happy bed.

Task complete, I make my way back to the living room. The city stretches out below, a glittering tapestry of glass and steel. It’s a view I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of, a constant reminder of how lucky I am.

I settle back onto the leather couch, sinking into its embrace. The game controller feels familiar in my hands as I un-pause my Minecraft world. The blocky landscape springs to life on the massive TV screen, and I can’t help but grin as I survey my handiwork.

“The balls need more definition.” I speak lost in thought staring at my creation.