The Venture Bros, Dr. Girlfriend/The Monarch, real names 1/2
part one! It had started as a joke. The sort of thing Dr. Girlfriend casually suggested as she knelt picking the lock on Dr. Venture's lab freezer, the two villains taking advantage of the scientist's refusal to go out of town without his bodygaurd. Combined with the rather lax security standards as of late on the Venture compound, it hadn't taken much to sneak inside. It wasn't as if the twins (staying with that creepy Dracula on the oppoite end of the compound) were much of a threat.
"What are we supposed to do now?" The Monarch muttered, looking around the lab as if he expected it to look any different or any less dissapointing than it had the last time they had seen it.
And that was how Dr. Girlfriend found herself with her skirt pulled up over her ass and her nylons torn to shreds and iscarded, face down on the ugliest bedspread she had ever seen in her entire life. The only words that would come to mind were: Oh. My. God. "Oh my god..." The rest dissolved into gasps smothered in the pillow, words half formed. Dr. Girlfriend's nails dug into the sides of the lumpy mattress as she felt those gloved fingertips clawing at her back and shoulders, the villain pressing deeper into her as she whimpered.
His forehead fell against the back of her neck as he panted and tried vainly to slow down his pace. He kissed her ear and then lower as he pulled back her slightly damp hair to kiss the pale curve of her neck.
"Will you slow down, Monarch?" Dr. Girlfriend said for the third time, desperate to make it last a little longer, draw out how good it felt for just a few more minutes.
"I-I can't, you need to...hurry it up..." He moaned, obviously struggling and failing to slow down his pace. How could he help it? Dr. Girlfriend's back arched and she bit her lip against the scream that was rising in her throat as the Monarch shuddered. She loved that feeling, dragging it out until they both were aching for it, but even she had her limits.
"Say it." She said in a quivering voice. "What, like now?!" The Monarch said, faltering a bit as he was clearly having trouble concentrating on two things at once. "Say it, Malcolm." She repeated, lifting her head so she could give him the Look to end all Looks, not asking, demanding. He liked that. Liked having an equal who could push as hard as he could, who could be so heartbreakingly beautiful and yet so at home with him that she knew she could ask for anything she wanted and get it.
"Sheila...Sheila...Sh-Sheila..." The Monarch groaned it again and again into her ear, as she grew closer and closer with every whispered kiss. And rest, the "I love you" he never needed to say but always did anyway, those words echoed in her ears as a lightning bolt streaked up her arched spine, waves of white hot pleasure washing over her from toes to head. It was the feeling of heaven on earth, or at least, in a back bedroom on an outdated compound in the middle of nowhere.