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The sharp jolt of pain, almost like a current, ran through her head, her clenched teeth and down her spine as the little round chip was torn off of her neck. Sucking in a sharp gasp of air, Shego’s head shot up, back straight and immediately folded in on itself as she fell down, all limp and tired. The release of taut muscles left her completely wiped out for a second, making her limbs heavy and unmovable. The body beneath her- it was a body, apparently, as she felt the surface she was lying on move up and down in big, laborious breaths - was familiar to her, the smell and feel of soft skin lulled her deeper into the much needed oblivion and she buried her face between a taut, sweaty neck and a pliable flesh of a wide shoulder. One of her hands was resting heavily on the still heaving chest, other was buried somewhere warm, squished between two bodies, fingers loosely wrapped around soft cotton, the fabric stretchy as she experimentally flexed her fingers. The movement apparently forced the other body into action, stomach muscles going taut, back arching and pushing itself into her limp figure, the pulse underneath her cheek picking up speed even more, if it was even possible.
It was a soft gasp of air and a strangled grunt from beneath her that caused Shego to finally snap out of her exhausted funk. Slowly rising and sitting back on her behind only made her head swim and break with a nasty headache.
“Ow…” she moaned, but finally managed to open her eyes to small slits and observe her surroundings. What she saw made her freeze like a deer in the hovercar's headlights.
Beneath her lay a terrified Drakken lying on the cold lair floor, the front of his lab coat open, the shoulders of it pulled halfway down his arms, essentially binding them to his sides. His black shirt was sorf of pulled askew, the collar slightly torn at one side, small scratches going down from his neck and clavicles. His face, albeit the frozen expression of equal parts terror and confusion, was purple all the way up to the tips of his ears, breath heaving, lips and chin a mosaic of black lipstick smears.
And the little moodulator chip tightly clenched between his bared front teeth.
“Oh god” shuddered Shego quietly, also going still with surprise, her legs involuntarily clenching around his hips she was apparently straddling all this time, fingers clenching in quiet shock. Though that only caused the blue man to go even more taut, chest rising and eyes bulging out even more, his gaze finally setting on hers, unblinking.
Only then did she realized that her clenched fingers were gripping the front of his blue boxers, the front of his pants open, button missing, the shirt slightly rucked up his stomach.
Hot skin and firm muscles, his rapid heartbeat like a drum against her hands. The black coarse trail of belly hair soft and ticklish against her knuckles…
Snatching her hand away like it was burning, she palmed her neck in quiet relief, but dread and shock of what did and might have happened made her leap up and away from him, quick and unwavering footsteps carrying her away without looking back.
That night sleep came uneasy to her. Thrashing around in her bed in a cold sweat, dim, confusing visions flashed through her still hurting head.
As she clenched her fingers around the elastic band and slowly slipped her hand down the front, he didn’t thrash around in terror, but furrowed his brow in a long and tormented-sounding moan, the sound pushing through his clenched jaw. As she finally put her hand on him, his hands were suddenly free from the constricting sleeves of his lab coat and he pulled her down, locking their lips firmly.
Then, as he reached around to caress her back and turn them around so he was on top, they were suddenly in her bed, his big, heavy body pushing her into the mattress, his hands and legs bracketing her body. Closing her eyes, she savoured the feeling of his hands on her, her moans swallowed in long, deep kisses they shared. As he buried his face in her neck and sucked hard on the delicate skin, she cried out and arched her back into him, moaning in answer to the strangled sounds he made for her.
As he grabbed her again, hands on her hips trying to turn her so her back was to his front now, they were completely naked. Hot hands running along the insides of her soft thighs, the swell of her ass and lower back, she arched into him, face buried into the pillows. As he finally sank deep into her, the delicious stretch and fullness made her clench around him tightly without volition and he collapsed against her with a drawn-out moan, bodies flush against each other, his face panting against the nape of her neck, lips pressed against her skin messily, hands caressing her sides and arms.
Slow, drawn out and lazy thrusts went through her like waves in a restless ocean and as their bodies picked up speed, merged together as one, he slipped one of his hands down her soft belly. Two fingers found the one thing she needed anymore and slightly pinched. Arching into the torturous feeling she burrowed her face into the bedding with a high-pitched shriek and was just on the brink of—
Shego woke up with a start and a startled grunt, body tangled in her sheets and skin sweaty, flushed. As the images flooded her mind again, a mixture of anger and straight up frustration washed over her, making her leap out of her bed and march almost aimlessly into the lab. With a final shriek of rage, Shego started smashing the lab equipment, bright green flame flowing over melting plastic and charred metal. Her rage apparently triggered the intruder alarm and as Drakken came rushing to the lab in his pajamas, Shego blasted him too, just for good measure.
The green woman felt rage, even though there was quiet, but insistent need beneath it.
After turning him into a monstrous-looking, hulky pile of muscle and mass, he became more mellow, resentful, simmering in the quiet rage surrounding him everyday. The hate she used to observe from his shouts, useless and never-ending threats, thunderous scowls only he was capable of in her opinion, were now present only in his eyes. Through his monotonous repeats of her orders, quiet grunts when he was ending some poor schmuck’s life on her command or simply for her entertainment, the Supreme One could sometimes catch the blind rage and hatred that he was showing while secretly staring at her, from afar. From behind her cruel rule over the world. One could guess it was betrayal, jealousy or simply hurt from being experimented on, having your body and mind corrupted, broken. But she was smart enough to notice the wild need to break her, end her and her power over him, over others. Sometimes, when she was really lonely on the top, tired of the mindless satisfaction brought by faceless men, disposed of after her entertainment, she would remember his stare, turn it in her mind into something else, something that could almost be called want. Lust. Some kind of twisted affection, a desire to overpower her, once and for all. As disturbing as it was, those thoughts continued to bring The Supreme One the most satisfaction. Some kind of familiarity, a constant from her old life that felt safe, almost comforting.
She didn’t mind. Not like it would ever come true. Not like he will dare to act on that rage, being punished severely too many times. Not like she will dare to have him like that, all to herself.
As long as she kept those dreams safely locked in her heart. As long as the electric collar stayed on his neck, blind rage masking any true feelings behind his eyes.
The green woman was safe in the reality of her own making.
He was hesitant at first.
That was to be expected, she thought. Him having a green, beautiful woman pursuing him in the dark of the night, clawing at his clothes and hair, taking his glasses from him could be perceived as quite rushed and demanding. But as she bit his lower lip, her tongue slipping into his mouth right after, her hot hands at his sides, lifting his shirt up, he moaned into her mouth, the sound running down her spine and straight into her core. When he finally put his hands around her and flipped them both around, his body now pressing her into the mattress fervently, hips grinding into her hand that was suddenly on the front of his jeans, she knew exactly when he decided to not think about the situation and just enjoy the given opportunity to be with her.
He was not that hard to locate. Between hours upon hours of her listening to the old (future?) Drakken rant about his sorry past and her knowing all of his lairs - new and old - she, surprisingly, found him hustling stolen cars in Colorado with Eddie, getting into some phony little heists to hunt for some odd parts here and there. Already being arrested 6 times, 27 year old Drew Lipsky was known as a local small-scale thief. When she found him in some small local karaoke bar in some shit-hole town not far from Denver, she was not surprised that the young, bespectacled man was shy and dead-awkward about her efforts to flirt with him.
But when she finally did pick him up, boy, did she pick him up.
As he buried his face into her neck, sucking the soft flesh into his mouth and lifted one of her legs over his forearm, she groaned aloud with the torturous feeling of being slowly stretched and filled, her face breaking out in a gleeful smile, brows furrowed. As she lifted her hands from her shoulders and buried them into his slightly longer hair, arching her back into him, he swallowed her drawn-out moan with a kiss, sloppy and hot.
Later, when he was dozing off with her head on his shoulder, he murmured with a laugh that he didn’t even ask her name - all shy and bashful, but the voice still a familiar octave lower. In the dark of his room, she could even almost imagine the blue skin, sweaty and cool under the cold of his bedroom. She herself was slowly succumbing to the comfort of his warm embrace, his deft fingers drawing small circles on the back of her neck and shoulder blades being the only anchor to this new (old?) world she entered to find him.
Later, in the dark of his makeshift little lair, surrounded by the clutter on his work bench, the Tempus Simia shimmered red from time to time, its eyes glimmering in tune with her rapid footsteps down the stairs from his living quarters.
When Drew woke up, the green woman was gone.
After 3 weeks of burned newspapers decorated with pictures of their ill-timed embrace on the podium at the UN ceremony, awkward glances and even akweirder conversations about their future, the golden medal decorating Drakken’s neck was finally discarded on her bedroom floor, its owner busy with finally working out some serious unresolved feelings.
Much later, when fatigue and Shego’s need to use the bathroom finally stopped them from resolving , they laid together on her bed, windows wide open. The soft summer breeze coming from the ocean was still enough for Shego to snuggle into her bed partner’s side, leg thrown over his and head perfectly nestled into his neck. She stretched her tired muscles and sighed a millionth time as he kept drawing small circles on her back, her neck, her shoulders. As she kissed his jawline with soft, lazy kisses she caught his pensive gaze switching between her face and the hand that was caressing her back.
“What?” she asked quietly, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Nothing, it’s just…” he murmured, staring at his hand once again.
“What, the past couple of hours have had a toll on your genius mind ?” Shego teased softly, pushing her naked body into his side suggestively and his pupils blow wide again, mouth opening slightly. As he was about to shoot back with a snarky comeback, a little pink flower crept from behind his ear and found his way around Shego’s head, nestling against the back of her neck and continuing the work his hand abandoned earlier.
“It really doesn’t matter now…” sighed Drakken, turning over and pushed himself into her waiting embrace, pulling her towards him by her ample sides, swallowing her snicker with a deep, lazy kiss.
There was a green woman in his arms. The green woman. He was content, at last.