The lab’s stark fluorescent lights flicker to life as we enter, casting harsh shadows across the room. The space is a jumble of high-tech equipment and whiteboards covered in indecipherable equations. In the corner, a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall catches my eye, its screen alive with vibrant colors and urgent text scrolling across the bottom.

My stomach drops as I recognize the figures on the screen. It’s us. Skye and me, locked in a passionate embrace atop that skyscraper. The footage is grainy, obviously shot from a distance, but there’s no mistaking Super Star’s iconic costume or the way my hands are tangled in her hair.

I feel the blood drain from my face as the reality of the situation hits me. Our private moment has become a public spectacle, broadcast for the entire world to see. The news anchor’s voice filters through the stunned silence of the lab:

“...in a shocking turn of events, Super Star was caught on camera in an intimate moment with an unknown man. Speculation is running wild about the identity of this mystery suitor...”

Beside me, Skye stands with her arms crossed, a mixture of smugness and awkwardness radiating from her posture. Her eyes are fixed on the screen, a small smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. I, on the other hand, feel like I might be sick.

The camera cuts to a panel of experts, all women, their faces serious as they dissect every aspect of the footage. One of them, a stern-looking woman with steel-gray hair, leans forward intently.

“What’s most interesting about this footage,” she says, her voice carrying the weight of authority, “is the body language. If you look closely, you can see that Super Star is actually holding the man down, yet he’s the one who initiates the kiss. This clearly absolves her of any potential misconduct allegations.”

Another panelist, younger with a shock of bright blue hair, nods vigorously. “Absolutely. The man’s body language screams consent. Look at the way he arches into her touch. There’s no doubt that he’s a willing participant in this encounter.”

I feel my face burning with embarrassment as they continue to analyze every aspect of our kiss. The tilt of my head, even the slight tremor in my legs as I pressed against her, all of it is laid bare for the world to see, picked apart by strangers who have no idea of the complex emotions behind that moment.

“But who is he?” a third panelist chimes in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Super Star has never been linked romantically with anyone before. For her to be so public with this display of affection, he must be someone truly special.”

Dark Star bursts into the lab, her cape billowing behind her like a storm cloud. With a swift motion, she grabs the remote and clicks off the TV, plunging the room into sudden silence. The abrupt absence of the newscasters’ voices leaves a ringing in my ears.

“Are you out of your mind?” Dark Star hisses at Super Star, her blue eyes flashing dangerously behind her mask. The tension in the room is palpable, crackling like electricity in the air. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Super Star meets Dark Star’s glare with a defiant tilt of her chin. “I kissed a guy I like. Sue me,” she retorts.

Dark Star turns to me, her expression softening slightly. “Are you okay?” she asks, genuine concern lacing her words. “This must be overwhelming for you.”

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. “I’m... I’m just embarrassed,” I manage to stammer out. The weight of what’s happened, my face plastered across news channels in a universe that isn’t even mine, is starting to sink in. My cheeks burn hot with mortification.

Skye’s hand finds its way to my back, her touch gentle and reassuring. “I didn’t mean to make you international news,” she says softly, a note of regret in her voice. “I got carried away. I’m sorry.”

Dark Star’s gaze swings back to me, her brow furrowed. “Why did you leave today?” she asks her tone a mixture of curiosity and exasperation. “We were supposed to continue your integration process this morning.”

I shift uncomfortably under her intense stare. “I woke up late,” I explain, feeling like a school kid caught skipping class. “I couldn’t find anyone, so I thought I’d explore a bit. I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

Dark Star lets out a long, weary sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I’m sorry,” she says, rubbing her temples as if warding off a headache. “There was an emergency downtown, a villain attack. We should have left someone to brief you but in the chaos...” She trails off, shaking her head.

Skye waves her hand dismissively, a carefree smile playing on her lips. “It’s fine, I was there to watch him,” she says, her voice light and unconcerned. “No harm done.”

Dark Star’s jaw clenches visibly, her gloved hands curling into fists at her sides. The air around her seems to thicken with tension, like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm. When she speaks, her voice is low and controlled, but I can hear the undercurrent of frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“But why let him go at all?” she asks each word carefully measured. “We have protocols in place for a reason, Super Star. This isn’t a game.”

Skye’s emerald eyes flash with a mixture of amusement and defiance. She takes a step closer to me, her arm brushing against mine in a gesture that feels both protective and possessive. “I wanted to see where he’d go,” she explains her tone light but with a hint of steel beneath. “To understand him better.”

She pauses, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “And do you know where our interdimensional visitor chose to go, of all the wonders our world has to offer?”

Dark Star’s eyes narrow behind her mask, her patience clearly wearing thin. “Where?” she asks, the word coming out more as a sigh than a question as if she already knew.

“Shake Shack,” Skye announces triumphantly as if revealing the punchline to an elaborate joke.

Dark Star’s posture shifts, some of the tension bleeding out of her shoulders. “I’ve been briefed,” she says, her voice softer now. “About the... incident at Shake Shack.”

Skye’s eyebrows shoot up, her grin widening. “Oh? And what did you think of our little Luke’s adventure in capitalism?”

Dark Star’s eyes narrow behind her mask, her jaw clenching visibly. The temperature in the room seems to drop several degrees as she fixes Skye with an icy glare.

“Super Star,” she says, her voice low and dangerous, “we don’t have time for this. The President just called.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with implication. I feel my heart rate quicken, a mixture of excitement and terror coursing through my veins. The President? Of the entire country? Wants to know about me?

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Dark Star continues, her words clipped and precise. “Since the Super Stars reported a new man with superpowers, she wants to present him to the country. It’s a matter of national importance, Super Star. We have to discuss how we want to handle this.”

The lab suddenly feels too small, the walls closing in around us. The various machines and monitors that line the room seem to hum with increased intensity, as if they, too, can sense the gravity of the situation. I catch my reflection in one of the shiny surfaces, my eyes wide, face pale, looking utterly lost and out of place in this high-tech, high-stakes world.

Skye, however, looks as though she couldn’t care less about the President’s request. She examines her costume nonchalantly, a bored expression on her face. When she speaks, her voice drips with condescension and an authority that seems to outdo even that of the President.

“No way are we announcing my boyfriend as a Supe,” she declares, as casual as if she were discussing the weather.

Her words hit me like a physical force, my mind reeling as I process what she’s just said. Boyfriend? The term echoes in my head, sending a cascade of conflicting emotions through me. Part of me thrills at the idea, a surge of warmth spreading through my chest at the thought of being with Skye again, even if she’s not quite the same Skye I knew. But another part of me recoils, panic rising like bile in my throat of being with someone so high profile.

I barely know this world, its customs, its expectations. The rules that govern superhero relationships are a complete mystery to me. What does it mean to be Super Star’s boyfriend in a universe where women hold all the power? The weight of the unknown presses down on me, making it hard to breathe.

My eyes dart around the lab, taking in the high-tech equipment that still seems alien to me, the stark white walls that feel more like a cage than a sanctuary. Even the air feels different here, charged with an energy I don’t fully understand. How can I commit to being someone’s boyfriend when I’m still trying to figure out how to exist in this strange new reality?

Skye smiles at me, her emerald eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and triumph. The curve of her lips, the tilt of her head, it’s all so achingly familiar.

Dark Star’s voice cuts through my internal turmoil, her tone sharp and businesslike. “We can’t just say no, Super Star. We have to be smart about this. The President’s request isn’t something we can brush off lightly.”

Skye rolls her eyes, the action so reminiscent of my Skye that it makes my heart ache. “Just tell the President to call me,” she says, her voice tinged with annoyance. “I don’t give a shit.”

The casual dismissal of the country’s highest authority sends a shiver down my spine. Is this normal for her? The power dynamics of this world seem to shift and change with every passing moment, leaving me feeling unmoored and adrift.

“Wait, Skye,” I blurt out, my voice sounding strained even to my own ears. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with, but I’m not sure I’m ready to be Super Star’s boyfriend. I need some time to adjust.”

Skye’s emerald eyes widen, her gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch in my throat. It’s as if the very air between us has solidified, trapping us in this moment. The lab’s fluorescent lights seem to dim, casting deep shadows across Skye’s face, accentuating the sharp angles of her cheekbones and the curve of her lips.

For a fleeting instant, I see a flash of raw vulnerability in her eyes, a glimpse of something fragile and wounded. It’s gone so quickly I’m not sure if I imagined it, replaced by a cold, calculating gleam. Her eyes narrow slightly, the green irises seeming to darken like storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

When she finally speaks, her voice is dangerously soft. “Okay.”

Without another word, Skye turns on her heel, her cape swirling around her in a crimson wave. The sound of her boots clicking against the polished floor echoes in the suddenly silent lab, each step punctuating the tension that hangs thick in the air.

Dark Star, who has been watching our exchange with growing concern, steps forward. “Super Star,” she calls out, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “What should I do about the President’s request?”

Skye pauses at the threshold, her hand resting on the doorframe. Without turning back, she replies, her voice dripping with icy indifference, “I don’t give a shit. He’s not my boyfriend, so just let the President show him off for all I care.”

As Skye’s words hang in the air, the temperature in the room seems to drop several degrees, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve just made a terrible mistake.

Dread begins to fill me, starting as a knot in the pit of my stomach and spreading outward until it consumes me entirely. This feels exactly like my Skye right before she kidnapped me for three months in the summer before my senior year of high school.

‘Then maybe this is a good thing?’

The memory hits me with startling clarity. I can almost smell the crisp summer air, feel the warmth of the sun on my skin as I stood in my driveway, oblivious to what was about to happen. Skye had appeared out of nowhere after ghosting me for a couple of days. I was terrified I thought she was done with me. Before I could even process what was happening, she had bundled me into her car, and we were speeding away, leaving my old life behind in a cloud of dust.

At first, I had been terrified. Trapped in a remote cabin, cut off from the world, I thought my life as I knew it was over. But as the days turned into weeks, something shifted. Skye’s intensity, her unwavering focus on me, began to feel less like a prison and more like a cocoon. We talked for hours, laughed until our sides hurt, shared hopes and dreams I’d never dared voice before.

In that isolated bubble, away from the pressures and expectations of the outside world, I found myself falling deeper in love with her than I ever thought possible. By the time summer ended and we returned to the real world, I was a changed person. That summer had transformed from the worst of times to the best, a pivotal moment that shaped the course of our relationship.

I feel my cheeks grow hot as I recall the passionate nights, the tender moments, the raw vulnerability we shared during those three months. It had been terrifying and exhilarating all at once, much like the situation I find myself in now.

The parallels are undeniable, and a part of me wonders if history is about to repeat itself. Will this Skye, with her superhuman powers and larger-than-life presence, whisk me away to some secret location? Or will she do something different? Maybe she really is done with me.

‘God, I hope not. I just really need some time to get my bearings.’

*****

[The Rapist’s POV]

I delicately slice another morsel of flesh from my still-living meal, ignoring the muffled screams through the ball gag, as I savor the tender meat. The napkin tucked into my shirt catches a stray droplet of blood as I chew thoughtfully, my eyes fixed on the television screen before me.

The news anchor’s voice fills my dimly lit lair, competing with the strangled cries of my dinner guest:

“...and the identity of Super Star’s mysterious new beau remains unknown. Experts are baffled by the heroine’s uncharacteristic public display of affection...”

I lean forward slightly, intrigued, as grainy footage of the rooftop encounter plays. The camera zooms in on the face of the man locked in Super Star’s passionate embrace. His features are blurred, but there’s something captivating about him, an innocence, a vulnerability that makes my pulse quicken.

“Ooh, he’s cute,” I purr, licking my lips as I study his image.

My fork hovers in midair, momentarily forgotten as I drink in every detail I can glean from the pixelated video. The way he melts into Super Star’s arms, the slight tremor in his legs as he presses against her. it speaks of a delicious naivety, a freshness I rarely encounter in this jaded world.

A particularly loud shriek from my meal snaps me out of my reverie. I glance down at the writhing form on my dinner plate with mild annoyance.

“Now, now,” I chide gently, patting his cheek with my knife. “It’s rude to interrupt. Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?”

I return my attention to the screen, where a panel of experts are now debating the potential identity of Super Star’s new flame.

A low chuckle escapes my lips as I spear another bite of quivering flesh. “Oh, you poor fools,” I murmur, my voice dripping with dark amusement. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with, do you?”

I can almost taste the chaos brewing, the delectable mayhem that’s sure to follow in the wake of this development. Super Star, the world’s protector, brought low by something as mundane as love? Oh, the possibilities are simply mouth-watering.

As I savor both my meal and the unfolding drama on the screen, a plan begins to take shape in the twisted corridors of my mind. Perhaps it’s time I introduced myself to Super Star’s new toy. After all, it would be a shame to let such a prime opportunity for killing go to waste.

“What do you think, sweetie?” I ask, glancing down at my dinner. His eyes, wide with terror and agony, roll wildly in their sockets. “I wonder If he’d break the rules like you did?”