Bad Girl Guidance, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Sitch [Complete]

Disclaimer: So that this story fits inside of Patreon’s Community Guidelines, it’s been revised so that it occurs in an AU where all the characters are legal adults. This includes the characters not involved in sexual events. Everybody is an adult, without a single exception. Sorry about the inconvenience.

Being a supervillain is one of those things most people can’t wrap their heads around: no fixed salary, irregular hours, constant OSHA violations… Yes, the average person wouldn’t even make it through orientation before deciding that maybe working the counter at the nearest Bueno Nacho wasn’t that bad of a prospect for a balding man past his fifties.

Shego wasn’t the average person.

… This should be obvious enough, seeing as she was a world-class athlete, martial artist, professional thief and infiltrator, and, you know, green.

Not to mention those legs…

Still! The part of Shego that was truly outstanding? The one thing that drew her to world-conquering schemes under—I mean, at the side of Dr. Drakken despite they always backfiring constantly on the two of them?

That was her propensity toward, and hatred of, boredom.

Which should not have come as a surprise to anyone who had ever spent more than five minutes with the volatile woman, her plasma-throwing tendencies, and her utter incapability to remain silent even when lazing around at her most feline.

All of those factors made for the kind of personality who looked at a supervillain’s terrible work conditions and saw most of them as perks. Danger? Good enough. Moving the lair around every few months? She was already growing tired of the local scene. The boss kept blowing himself up with his latest ‘inventions?’ Well, that was just mocking gold!

It also made it so that when Drakken went through an uncharacteristically quiet period of reflection after saving the world and being praised for it, Shego was frantic for an excuse to leave the lair for a few days.

Usually, that would’ve meant going on a caper with Señor Senior Junior or, if she felt desperate enough, Motor Ed.

She… wasn’t quite proud of that last one.

Still, given her current circumstances? Dressing up like a bimbo and running around on a tricked-out, stolen super rocket with fuzzy dice maybe didn’t sound quite as awful as she remembered.

“Seriously?” she asked with her best sarcastic drawl, honed through unrelenting hours of mocking her boy—boss.

“Ah, Miss Shego, I presume?” the blond man with a ridiculous, vaguely Eastern European accent wearing a trench coat, fedora, and sunglasses ensemble asked from behind the newspaper covering most of whatever of his face remained unconcealed by his upturned collar.

An upside-down newspaper.

She wanted to facepalm, but years of wielding plasma in her hands made it so she had to be very deliberate and sparing with that particular sign of exasperation toward the intellectual faculties of her lessers. She usually saved it for when Drakken mixed up the real coffee with the decaf crap he kept buying by mistake.

“Seriously,” Shego repeated, dropping the inquisitive tone in favor of packing a bit more sarcasm in. It was hard work, but somebody had to do it.

“I am… pleased you answered my summons,” the man continued, the accent switching countries around three times. “A woman of your talents must be very… coveted.”

Crossing her arms beneath her perfectly adequate bust, thank you very much, Motor Ed, Shego raised a particularly unimpressed eyebrow at the man sitting on a park bench like a spy from a cold war era movie.

And feeding the ducks.

With nacho crumbs.

“Look, sidekick, if this is a trap, it’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever—”

“What?! Sidekick? Nobody’s a sidekick in here. Whatever gave you that crazy idea. You’re crazy, woman I’ve met for the first time in my life!” he cut her off, shoving the newspaper right below his glasses and making it rustle with every panicked exhalation.

Shego blinked in slight confusion at the display, then pondered just how utterly panicked Ron Stoppable looked and settled on a course of action.

Said course started by smirking.

“Sooo… I take it Kimmy doesn’t know you’re here?”

“Kim Possible? Why, who would ever think to tip her off to our nefarious plotting—”

“And how did you jump from ‘Kimmy’ to ‘Kim Possible?’”

“I… I mean, she’s a world-renowned… uh… cheerleader? Very famous in the Netherlands. Cheerleading is a national pastime, you know?”

“Really? I thought you were all into curling?”

“That too. That’s our second national pastime—”

“And chess.”

“Which is our third—”

“Not to mention shogi.”

“Yes! We throw shogi boards at curling bishops while we cheer them on and shake our pompons! What do you want from me, woman!”

“Oh, just a few laughs. You’re doing pretty well so far.”

“I mean—”

“You even still have your pants on.”

“Enough with the pants! It’s a condition, and I’ll not be mocked for it!”

With a light laughter that would’ve sounded more amicable if it didn’t drip mocking condescension, Shego ripped away Ron’s newspaper and burned through the bridge of his sunglasses.

“Hey! Don’t you villains respect anonymity or something!”

“Right, that’s what we villains do: let the undercover cops and Global Justice spies in without a background check. Come on, what’s this whole thing all about?” she said, gesturing at the trench coat, bench, and curious ducks with a glowing hand.

For some reason, Stoppable blushed up to the tip of his ears.

Which made Shego’s grin come back with renewed, sadistic glee.

“I mean…” The sidekick hesitated, looking around to make sure only the ducks remained as hypothetical witnesses. “You’re a bad girl?”

Shego blinked.

“That’s what I put on my resume, yes.”

“Right. Right. The baddest girl I know.”

“Flattery will only get you so far, sidekick.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, his hat wobbling with the gesture as he tried to shoot her a smile that didn’t look like it was being coerced under threat of pantslessness.

“I… I mean, you’re a bad girl, and KP is a good girl, and so I was wondering…”

Shego cocked her head, interested despite herself, and waited for the boy to continue.

He didn’t.

“Yeeees?” she drawled out.

“I was wondering if… Well… Good girls don’t know about sex, so—”

At that moment, Shego heard a distant sound of something catastrophically crashing. The kind of noise that signals a restaurant about to have to buy a lot of dishes. The kind of strepitous disaster that’s only funny when you’re a supervillain, and it isn’t happening to you.

It was to Shego’s great displeasure that she realized the sound was coming from inside her own mind.

Also, that she was holding Stoppable up by his throat, her free hand burning brightly right beside his pale, freckled face bathed in a green light that rarely looked good on any complexion not her own.

“I suggest you consider very carefully what you’re going to say next, because it just sounded like you anonymously called me here to offer me a job that involves me knowing about sex,” she said with a glacial tone she rarely used.

That it had taken Ron Stoppable suggesting she may be some kind of prostitute to break it out rather than any of her duels with Kimmy may have said a lot about her relationship with the redhead, but Shego would rather focus on her ice-cold rage rather than on any personal revelation about her views on acceptable levels of hostility toward her nemesis.

“I mean… that’s precisely it?” Ron said, desperately holding onto her wrist and pulling himself up to get some air in his lungs.

… Welp, Kimmy may be sad for a while, but Shego was sure that, after she explained how her boyfriend had tried to whore the villainess out, they would go back to amicable fistfights in no time at all.

She would make sure to wait until after the funeral to say all that. It was the polite thing to do.

“So, any last words you want me to relay to your disgusting tube rat thing?”

“Hey! No need to drag Rufus into this!”

“I’m about to murder you; I think you should worry more about yourself.”

“Murder me? Why?” he asked with enough heartfelt confusion that he forgot to pull himself up and choked himself on her grip quite satisfyingly.

She looked at him like he had brain damage. Then remembered she was talking to Ron Stoppable and exaggerated the facial expression a bit more so it would be distinguishable from the way she usually looked at him.

“You… Me… Sex?” she finally managed to push through a very uncooperative snarl.

“Yes! I want you to teach me!” he asked with relieved enthusiasm despite his face reddening to dangerous levels.

Shego blinked.

And let him fall to the dirt road on his ass, the troop of ducks immediately and savagely mugging him for any remaining traces of nachos.

“Why?! I was good to you! I brought you food! Why would you do thiiiiiis?!”

With a sigh, Shego dropped her far superior ass on the recently vacated bench and waited for nature to take its course.

“Noooo! Those are my emergency nachos! I need those to live! I have a condition!”

Then waited a bit more, making a note to maybe build a pond in their next lair.

She had never imagined ducks could be so vicious, and she certainly approved.

***

“OK, explain,” she said when Ron finally dusted his pants off after throwing away his brutalized trench coat and hat into the nearest bin.

“I mean… That’s pretty much it? Good girls don’t know about… you know? And I want to know before I… you know?”

“I don’t.”

“Uh… This would’ve been far less embarrassing if you hadn’t seen through my cunning disguise.”

“I disagree. In many, many ways.”

“But—”

“We’re not talking about your disguise! We’re talking about why the Hell you would think it’s a good idea to call me and ask me to teach you about sex—”

“Because I want to make Kim’s first time special!”

Shego heard a distant sound. It started like the needle on a record player hitting an unexpected groove, jumping off the track, and bouncing along three different songs without the machine quite knowing what music it was supposed to be playing until it ended in a glorious, angelic choir.

What she felt at the realization that the noise was coming from inside her head was the furthest thing she could feel from displeasure.

“You,” she said after a brief pause devoted to utterly savoringwhat could only be a brief mirage of Paradise soon to be taken away by a cruel, uncaring world. “You want me to coach you on how to properly make Kimmyenjoy her first time?”

“Yeeeees?” Ron answered in the tone of somebody realizing they may not have had the brightest of ideas. It was a tone that Shego was intimately familiar with, what with working for Drakken.

And so she knew precisely how to push so that the brief realization would serve not as a warning to avoid a catastrophe but as added ammunition when it came time for the richly deserved, glorious mocking.

“Stoppable, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

***

“What are the odds that our hydroplane would have to stop for repairs in the middle of Lake Flores in Guatemala?” Kim asked, nervously holding her left arm with her right hand.

“I know, right?” Ron answered, not really processing the question.

“And then, that the only place nearby to spend the night would be a luxury resort with just one bungalow available…” she muttered, looking around at the wooden hut with ample vistas to the lake that would’ve made her feel exposed if not for the knowledge there was nothing but nature for miles in front of her.

“Yes. Right.”

“A bungalow with only one bed, a view to die for, and no civilization in sight through the virginal jungle,” she pointed out, biting her lip and noticing just how big the bed with linen sheets to her left was.

“Huh.”

“I… It’s… It’s quite breathtaking, isn’t it?” she finally added, shyly looking at her boyfriend while still holding her right arm below her breasts in a way her mother had insisted may do the trick (vague as she had been as to what ‘the trick’ was supposed to be).

“Yes,” Ron Stoppable answered with more aplomb than he had since the conversation started.

Not because he concurred with Kim that the view of Lake Flores at dusk, tinted by the flaming sunset peaking over the mountains and the dark green of the dense, surrounding jungle was captivating. Not even because he agreed that the string of ‘coincidences’ that had brought them to this place after this latest mission was at all remarkable (and it wasn’t, both because Shego had left nothing to chance, and because to a master of Mystical Monkey Power few things seemed farfetched) but because he was transfixed staring at the gorgeously colored display of…

The fruit basket.

Now, Ron Stoppable’s relationship with healthy food could charitably be described as somewhat strained (and accurately characterized as just shy of outright terror), but, over the past few weeks and under Shego’s vigilant training, he had been forced to acquaint himself with a wider variety of fruits and vegetables than he’d ever imagined.

Part of it was that, according to his instructor in the amatorial arts, bodily fluids (sweat or saliva, he guessed) tasted far sweeter with a fruit-rich diet than that of the naturally carnivorous, but also that…

“Tie those stems, Stoppable! Tie those fucking cherry stems with your tongue, or I’m lowering you to the giant squids!”

“Hold the grape with your lips without crushing it. Good, now press it and keep it in place as you suck—no! If you split the skin of a single grape one more time, it’s back to the electroclamps for you!”

“The cucumber? I… Uh. I guess I got carried away. Unless you’re up for some advanced practice?”

Ron shuddered. He hadn’t been up for advanced practice.

“Ron? Are you hungry?” Kim intruded into his PTSD with a frown of mild concern.

“Wha—no! Not at all! Huh, I mean, maybe? I could eat… wait, is Guatemalan food at all like—”

“No nacho crumbs in here, Ron,” she said, rolling her eyes and picking up a banana to…

To, apparently, look weirdly at her boyfriend when he fixated on it and flushed down his neck until he reached precisely the same shade as that one time he had forgotten to wear sunscreen to their annual beach trip.

The doctor had not been amused. Her brothers were.

“I… Maybe we could… snack for a bit? It would be a shame if all that fruit went to waste?” he said, eyes only wavering from the tip of the banana to go to her pink lips and back.

“And since when do you care about wasted food?”

“I swear to God, if you bruise a single more peach with your clumsy groping, I’m force-feeding them to you, pit included,” Shego’s haunting voice echoed in his traumatized mind.

“Since always, KP! One must always respect food. Treat it gently, tenderly, careful not to be too rough right at the start—”

“You’re being weird.”

“Uh… But you like weird?” he asked, nervously rubbing the back of his neck and feeling his customary mission apparel be far itchier than it’d ever been.

Kim blinked in surprise at the almost suave rejoinder, remembered the one time she had amorously whispered those words to him, and felt a pleasant flush spread over her cheeks.

“I do,” she whispered with a shy smile.

Then peeled the banana and took a bite out of it, which, for some unfathomable reason, caused her boyfriend to flinch in what looked to be actual pain.

“Ron?” she asked after swallowing the very tip of the incredibly tasty fruit, and, oh, wow, she definitely should start taking fruit from the places she missioned in, because that wasn’t what the supermarket back home sold at all.

“Yesssss?” he answered in a sibilant tone. Almost a whistle, really. One she hadn’t heard since that time he took a pigskin right in… you know… between his legs.

“Are you… Is something wrong?” she asked with all the concern a superheroine girlfriend could muster.

Which was a lot.

And usually came paired with the infamous puppy pout.

For some reason, that made Ron hunch over.

‘Yes, sidekick, is something wrong?’ Shego’s far less caring tone purred from his earpiece.

“Nothing at all!” he answered, reflexively jumping up, back straight, shoulders thrown back, and basically adopting proper posture for the first time in his life, past few weeks of hellish training excluded. “I’m just…” he floundered, looking for the prepared material in the distant, cluttered corners of his mind.

‘Taken with the natural beauty of this place. Of course, it doesn’t quite compare to yours,’ Shego pointed out in her gleeful role as Cyrano.

“Taken by the natural beauty of this place. Of course, it doesn’t quite take me as you,” Ron tried and failed to parrot.

“What?” Kim blinked at him.

‘OK… That isn’t as bad as I had hoped. Try “Your eyes, Kim. I just can’t look away.”’

“I… can’t look away? From your eyes?”

Ron heard a facepalm on the other side of the line, but the way Kim seemed to fidget in sheer pleased embarrassment kinda took the sting away.

“What’s gotten into you?” she asked with a bashful smile.

‘You should be wondering what’s about to get into you, Kimmy,’ Shego drawled out.

“You should be wondering what’s about to get into you, Kimmy,” Ron repeated with aplomb and surety, his newfound confidence allowing him to push forward.

‘Shit! No! I was just mocking you!’

“Shi—uh… I mean… Heh… heh?” Ron started, then paused as realization hit him, and he steadily deflated.

Kim, instead, seemed to be about to hyperventilate.

“I—uh. I mean, really? We… Huh, Ron? Is that… What…” the former cheerleader and still amateur hero asked, pulling the collar of her purple shirt away from her neck before she realized she was giving her boyfriend a bit of a shot at her cleavage and let it suddenly (and mildly painfully) snap back into place.

“I… Huh… that came out wrong?”

‘Nice. It’s always good when your pulling-out game is strong.’

“Wha—”

‘Focus on her, you moron! Look, that may have been too much, too soon, but she’s not averse to it, so take a step forward, grab her hand, and—’

Ron Stoppable, master of Mystic Monkey Power, took a step forward, tripped on his dropped pants, and grabbed Kim Possible’s own pants as he faceplanted, leaving her, for once, in a position of complete solidarity with his streaking self.

It also made it so that Ron’ eyes, when he looked up at the blushing redhead, encountered a piece of purple embroidery with a cute, silky ribbon on the elastic waistline, a glimmering pearl on the middle of the satin fabric mesmerizing him about as much as the stretch of pale belly above the panties that he’d so sorely missed once Kim ditched her old cropped shirt.

He gulped.

Shego, for the first time in her life, followed his lead.

‘Oh, she wants you.’

“Wha… what?” Ron asked. Either to the disembodied voice of his terrifying instructor or to a universe that had so suddenly stopped making sense.

‘She. Wants. You. No girl wears those unless she’s hoping somebody will catch a close look at them.’

“Ro—Ron?” Kim asked, her hands still frozen at her sides even as her boyfriend kept staring at her panties.

(‘Just like I hoped he would,’ she didn’t quite dare add to her inner monologue, yet again adding to the number of times she had unwittingly agreed with Shego.)

“I… I am so sorry, KP! I don’t know what came over me, other than what always comes over me, but I never stripped you off before, so maybe it’s not the same thing? Maybe I have another condition now? Oh, God, what if I start having you go panstsless everywhere? What if I strip off your clothes no matter where we are or what we are doing and end up looking between your legs, up into your eyes? What will we do if that happens, Kim?!”

Kim, as her only answer, widened her eyes farther the more his rant went on. Her blush seemed to decide to join in on the fun for some reason.

She also seemed to be choking on her own spit.

Oh, he was so bad at this. Look at how he had embarrassed her!

‘God, that would be so hot…’ Shego seemed to disagree.

“I… I am sure there’s no need to panic. It’s just a… one-time thing?” Kim asked hopefully.

And then she leaned forward to grab his arms and pull him up like she had always done ever since she met the clumsy boy in the schoolyard. Except for the slight matter of her being pantsless.

As it turns out, slight differences may not be so slight, after all.

Something Kim discovered as Ron’s face came up right between her legs, in front of her panties, and he followed his Pavlovian training to dart his tongue out along the barely visible crevice.

“Ron!” she yelled right before dropping him to fall on his face.

“I’m all right!”

‘You won’t be if you keep this up…’

“What was that?!” Kim asked, now actually covering herself and hunching over like a boy who had discovered how far from gentle footballs can be.

“I—uh—”

‘Say, “I’m sorry! I couldn’t hold back anymore!”’

“I’m sorry I couldn’t hold you down some more!”

‘I’m going to fucking flense you—’

“What?! Ron?!”

“It’s not my fault! Shego’s diction is terrible!”

“What?!”

‘What?!’

“It’s true! She has that constant drawl, and the radio jumbles out everything! I swear I’m doing my best!”

‘They’ll never find your fucking body—”

“What does Shego have to do with—is that a radio?!”

“Yeah! She’s so old school she didn’t even want to use a Bluetooth headpiece—”

‘It doesn’t have the range, you goddamn moron!’

“Give me that!” Kim said.

And took out his in-ear radio.

Kim Possible stood astride her prostrated boyfriend, holding the black gadget aloft much like one would imagine Conan would hold the decapitated head of a vanquished foe before, with a slight, disgusted frown, she wiped it on the belly of her purple shirt (that, by sheer serendipity and nothing else, matched the precise shade of her panties) and shoved it in her ear.

“Shego?” she asked in the most saccharine tone she could manage.

‘Uh… This isn’t Shego. I am a defective clone Drakken crafted. This is all his fault, really.’

“You have a no-cloning clause in your contract.”

‘I mean, duh! Can you imagine the depraved things he could get up to with an army of brainwashed mes—I mean, he’s a supervillain! Breach of contract law is par for the course!’

“You would flense him.”

‘You know me so well—fuck. You do.’

Kim started to adopt her usual, arms crossed and hip cocked smug pose. Then she realized her boyfriend was still lying between her open legs, staring at her battle panti—perfectly regular underwear, and eeped before jumping away and kneeling on the floor with her thighs closed to stop flashing him.

For some reason, Ron Stoppable looked downcast after that. For another, entirely unrelated reason, Kim felt a warm, pleased feeling brew in her belly at the realization. The entirely unrelated realization.

“OK. Yes. I’ve been fighting you since I was, like, thirteen, so, yes, I do know you quite well. Now, what’s this all about?” she finally settled on saying after shooting Ron a warning glance that wasn’t at all mired with conflicted feelings.

‘Would you believe me if I said this was all for your own good?’

“No.”

‘Shows what you know. Come on, ask the sidekick.’

“I’m asking you.”

‘Yeah, but the thing is, I’m not in the same room, so you aren’t as intimidating to me as you’d otherwise be, Princess. Now, your boytoy, on the other hand…’

Kim pondered the wisdom of her nemesis’ words. Then looked sweetly at her pantsless boyfriend.

“Ron? Shego says to tell me all of her plans because she’s feeling too lazy to explain it herself.”

‘That’s not what I—’

“That does sound like Shego.”

‘I’ll obliterate him!’

Kim suppressed her smug smile. Barely.

“OK…” Ron didn’t suppress his nervous sweating. Not by a long shot. “So, you see, I… I wanted to do something special for you…”

‘That’s a way to put things.’

“And… well, according to Mom, you wouldn’t know anything about it, but Shego definitely would—”

“What?”

‘Damn, I wish I was there to see your face.’

“And, well, I asked Shego to teach me that thing you don’t know about…”

“What thing, Ron! Speak clearly!” Kim demanded with not even a hint of rising panic.

‘This is gonna be delicious.’

“Sex! I asked her to teach me about sex!”

For a brief moment, Kim Possible was peripherally aware of a crashing sound, the kind of noise one never wants to be on the wrong end of. It was with a hint of confused awe that she realized it was the sound of noble wood boards being pierced by a dainty, tiny fist buried in the floor of a luxury bungalow right beside the face of her terrified boyfriend.

“Why does everybody react like that?!” Ron asked an, in his opinion, perfectly reasonable question.

‘Oh, he’s still alive? Losing your touch, Kimmy.’

“What does everybody mean?!” Kim asked, ignoring Shego’s niggling with long practice.

“You! And Shego! You two!”

“And nobody else?! You didn’t ask Bonnie, or Monique, or Yori—”

“Oh, great idea! I should have—”

The second time around, Kim was perfectly aware of where the sound came from.

It came from her sanity breaking and Shego laughing her ass off.

‘Oh God, this is priceless! Do you know how much I could get from selling this to the other villains—’

“Shego, I’m going to say this as an amateur hero with more than half a decade of experience and contacts in Global Justice: if anyof this leaves this room, nobody will ever realize what happened to you. Drakken will wake up ten years from now, sadly looking at his employee of the month photo of you, and then he’ll go back to drawing ineffective plans in your memory. He will be the only one to mourn you, and even he won’t dare bring your name up in front of me.”

‘… I’m almost afraid to admit that sounds hot.’

“You’re insane!”

‘Helloooo? Supervillain here?’

At that, Kim muttered a few uncharitable words that Ron’s mother would’ve been shocked to realize the cheerleader even knew the meaning of.

Ron, instead, kept staring up without blinking, his head trapped between twin fists buried in splintered wood.

He was also afraid to admit that sounded hot.

“OK… so… you went to Shego to learn about sex—what does that even mean?!”

“Apparently? Plenty of fruit,” the scaroused blond answered.

“… What.”

‘It will make things taste much better. Trust me on that one. Also, you’re welcome.’

“What things! What even—ooooohhhhh.”

‘Yup.’

“There was also the thing with the cherry stems, the one about not bruising peaches, the one about holding grapes in my lips and sucking in… It was like vegan Karate Kid! I don’t even know what am I supposed to do with all the wax-on, wax-off I just learned!” Ron despaired, blissfully unaware of his girlfriend’s brain having almost short-circuited right before his heartfelt cry.

Kim, on the other hand, looked at her boyfriend with wide eyes. Because Kim Possible was definitely a good girl, a very good girl (and she was now shooting that line of thought down fast), but she also was the daughter of a literal neurosurgeon and rocket scientist, so she was more than capable of putting two and two together and that adding up to Ron Stoppable being specifically trained for the sorts of things she mayhave had in mind when she chose her underwear for the day.

Also, her mother had had her on the pill for literal years. Apparently, Friday night being her Ron night had been somewhat of a clue, despite neither Kim nor Ron having ever processed it as such.

“Shego…” she managed to say through a suddenly dry throat even as she kept staring down at Ron’s unexpectedly interesting, grape-holding lips. “You… didn’t do anything? With Ron?”

‘Gah!’

Good enough

“She certainly did! I’ve got the bruises to prove it, Kim!”

Or not.

“Bruises?”

“She’s unrelenting. She never let me rest until I was drenched with sweat and couldn’t even move anymore. My jaw was so tired, KP, I couldn’t even eat my emergency nachos!”

…

“Shego?”

‘I don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, but if he isn’t, that’s a talent that needs nurturing.’

Kim blinked down at her boyfriend, then tried to imagine Ron Stoppable, survivor of a bar mitzvah incident that would leave most men too traumatized to ever show up in public again, freely speaking about being… riddenby Shego until they couldn’t walk anymore.

And she sighed.

“All right. So, just to be clear… You haven’t had sex with Shego, have you?”

Between her fists, Ron blinked up at her in sheer confusion.

“Is that… Are you speaking in code or something?”

Kim closed her eyes and counted to ten.

“No, Ron, that is an actual question.”

“But… she’s old.”

‘I’ll tear off his pancreas. I’ll roast every non-vital part of his body and feed it to Señor Senior Senior’s gators. I’ll even date Barkin again just to convince him to revoke his damn graduation!’

Kim tried not to snort at the last one. She, uncharacteristically, failed.

“OK. Fine. All right. So… this whole thing, the bungalow, the engine failing… it was all so you could… show me your training?” she asked, trying not to smile at the dumbest, smartest man alive.

“I mean… Yes?” said man answered, doing his best lost puppy impression.

The one that always made Kim melt, and now suddenly made her melt in entirely different ways.

“Good enough,” she whispered.

And she dropped on top of him, her chest flattening against his, her lips mashing the grape-trained ones, and her hands finally leaving their custom-made holes to grasp his short hair between gloved fingers.

‘OK, that noise means you’re finally getting it on. Let me grab the popcorn.’

Kim’s eyebrow twitched.

And then she decided to get revenge.

“You know, Ron,” she whispered in his ear and, incidentally, in Shego’s own. “I’ve been… waiting for this. For quite a while.”

“You mean…” he said, looking at her with wonder in his hazel eyes.

“I mean that…” she took a deep breath and lifted his shirt, baring his surprisingly toned body before bending down and loudly kissing up from his navel and to his breastbone, trying to make sure Shego knew precisely what she was doing. “You… You really got in shape, didn’t you?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“Well, you know, star football player, kung fu master, sidekick… I guess things added up?” he said in the tone of one who was curious himself rather than bragging.

Which, again, made Kim melt.

‘Oh, so that’s what did it for you, didn’t it? The whole “adorkable” thing? Meh. To each their own, I guess.’

“I…” Kim’s mind raced, trying to come up with something that would be both sexy for Ron to hear and frustrating for Shego to listen to. “I think it’s more than that,” she settled on, remembering just how much Shego tended to enjoy beefcake on any man other than Drakken—or on Drakken, in that one particular future where he was her slave for reasons Kim had always tried very hard not to think about. “Your abs are… very defined. And you… your inguinal crease—”

“My what?” he asked, mesmerized by the way Kim’s eyes roamed his bared torso.

“This,” she said, laying a fingertip on top of the line that went from his hip to… down below. “Girls can go crazy for this, you know, Ron?” she added, leaning back down to breathe on the small hollow above the taut skin over his tendon.

‘… Are you trying to make me jealous about the sidekick?’ Shego asked with an incredulous tone that didn’t have anything to do with her not having had a steady relationship that wasn’t job-related since the one time she dated Kim’s teacher.

Kim, fully aware of the dating status of her nemesis for reasons she’d rather not think too much about, grinned.

“Succeeding,” she whispered, too low for Ron to catch it even as he shuddered at the warm gust of air ghosting over his skin.

Then Kim leaned down to the waistband of his red boxers and poked out her tongue to slowly, wetly, and loudly trace the very same line she had just praised.

Shego groaned.

“Ki—Kim?!” Ron asked, eyes wide open as he leaned up to stare at his girlfriend doing precisely the kind of things he was convinced she’d never do without some thorough guidance.

“Yes, Ron?” Kim purred.

“Are you… Is Shego telling you what to do?”

Kim froze.

Shego laughed her ass off.

And Ron discovered the true meaning of fear.

“I mean, uh, good girls, you know…?”

“I most certainly don’t!” she said as she straightened up and pulled her purple shirt off.

Which bared an embroidered brassiere of the same color. With a satin ribbon between the semitransparent cups.

And a pearl right on top of that ribbon.

For a brief, passing moment, any theological doubts Ron may have ever held vanished. God did exist, and He loved him.

“There! I can be a good girl and, and… and sexy! I can be a good girl and want you to… to do things to me! We’ve been dating for almost a year and practically engaged for ten! I want you to do more than kiss and touch me! I want you to take me!”

‘You go, girl!’

Kim’s eye twitched, the apparent sincerity of the cheer only adding to the sting.

“I… KP, I…”

“Yes?” she asked, trying to void her eyes of the promised murder that was directed at the absent participant in the scene.

“You’re… sitting on my… you know?” Ron squirmed.

Which made Kim definitely aware of what she was sitting on.

‘Oh? Come on, girl! Deets, I need all the deets!’

“You’re… big,” Kim said as she dragged her hips back, her still-clothed sex dragging along a hot, pulsing rod that kept going and going for longer than she had thought even after plenty of make outs that always left her both elated and frustrated out of her mind.

“Thanks?” Ron said, his brain still not quite able to process Kim praising his manhood, sitting on top of it, moving along it, and being in sexy underwear with two maddeningly glittering pearls that kept making his eyes bounce up and down.

“I... You’re welcome. You’re definitely welcome.”

‘So the buffoon is packing? I guess he had to have somethinggoing for him.’

Kim Possible looked at her boyfriend. At her supportive best friend. At the one person who had always stood by her side, no matter the danger.

At the, and this still took some thinking, master of Mystic Monkey Power who saved the world from alien invaders.

Yes. Definitely.

Ron had a lot going for him.

And she was going to enjoy rubbing Shego’s nose on it.

… Maybe not literally, though.

She stood up, leaning down to catch his hand and pull her with her, and looked up into eyes that were always warm when looking at her.

With the silliest grin she’d ever felt on her face, Kim got on her tip toes and, once again pleased at just how much taller than her he was, whispered in his ear:

“I want to see you, Ron. I want to see all of you.”

Ron swallowed hard enough that she heard it.

Satisfyingly, so did Shego.

Ron blinked at her, the flush on his cheeks almost erasing his freckles before he smiled shyly at her and grabbed the hem of his black shirt, lifting it as high as she had done before gravity undid her work, and… stopped.

He bit his lip anxiously, searching her eyes for a hint of something.

She felt her breath stop.

And took another step forward, only her bra separating her breasts from his toned chest.

“I… I want you, Ron. All of you. I’ve had for years,” she said, eyes glittering under the warm, diffuse lights of the bungalow even as only bare traces of the sunset lit the lake showing through the open door to the wooden dock behind him.

Ron looked almost shocked before a slow smile spread across his face.

And he pulled his shirt off.

He was standing in front of her, only his boxers and socks covering his body. He was… slender, yes. Lanky, whenever he wore his loose clothes and moved in that lazy slouch of his.

But, like this? Highlighted by raw nature behind him, almost naked, showing the fruits of years of risking his life on a weekly basis?

He looked…

Well… looking at what the boxers were so ineffectively trying to hide, Kim could say that her boyfriend made her feel things other than warm affection and everlasting friendship.

‘Well? How is he? Any juicy details you want to share, or do you want all the juice for yourself?’

Again, Shego made her feel… plenty of things.

Among them, a rush of something darker than she ever thought she would feel during her first time.

So, just as Ron’s hands hesitatingly dropped to the waistband of his red boxers, she, yet again, stepped up, almost close enough that her chest would touch him, but not quite.

“Let me…” she whispered to widening eyes.

And, slowly and fluidly, she dropped down to her knees until she was eye-level with his… tent.

“Ron…” she said, forcing herself to look up into his expectant eyes. “I… I want you to know that… That I am a good girl. I am, for you. But…” an old quote flashed through her mind, and Kim finally smiled the smile of one who knows victory is at hand, “When I’m good, I’m very good, but when I’m bad, I’m better.”

Ron’s eyes almost jumped out of his skull, and something on the end of the line Shego was in dropped strepitously to the ground.

By the sound of it? A bowl of popcorn.

So, mission accomplished, Kim took off the in-ear radio and threw it as far as she could manage and into the lake behind Ron.

“Aaaaaahhhhhhh! That was so embarrassing!”

“Kim…?” a very erect Ron asked the girl burying her face in her gloves.

“She was listening to everything! And quipping! And eating popcorn!”

“Are you hungry?”

“No! Unless you mean that as a euphemism, then yes!”

“What?”

“Shut up! Just shut up and let me do this before I lose my nerve!”

“Do what?!”

“This!” she said.

And tore his boxers off before lunging forward and swallowing the tip of his still-bouncing member.

At that moment, a few things ran through Ron Stoppable’s mind:

- His mother must never know.

- Her father must never know.

- And, lastly, ‘Ooooh, bodily fluids. I get it.’

Sadly, those would be the last thoughts to make an appearance for a while, given that Kim Possible was suddenly applying all her considerable mental and physical faculties to try and suck his soul out of his body.

Both Ron’s soul and body seemed to reach an agreement on the matter: Kim was welcome to try for as long as she wanted.

Kim, seemingly aware of said agreement, took off her leather gloves and reached up to wrap her hand on the base of his member. Then, no longer as rushed, she tried licking up along the underside of his cock until she reached the tip of it and kissed off a dollop of surprisingly sweet, transparent fluid.

She almost caught herself feeling grateful to Shego before she smothered the thought in its crib. Then she looked at Ron’s trance-like expression and had to stop herself from giggling.

It seemed like being a good girl was not a bad thing.

So she felt reassured in leaning forward once again, letting him slide over her tongue, the bare wood on her knees not bothering her at all as she pushed forward, drinking in the smell of Ron’s sweat. They hadn’t had time to shower off after their latest mission, and she’d never thought she would find that anything but gross, but, at that moment? Surrounded by the new smell coming from maybe the only part of Ron’s body she wasn’t intimately familiar with? Kim regretted only one thing: not having brought a change of underwear.

Because she was drenched. Sucking off her boyfriend made her pulse with a heat far more intense than she ever thought, and every time he twitched inside her mouth and let out yet another dollop of that fluid she had always been led to know should be disgusting and was anything but? Every time Ron groaned when her tongue explored a new part of him, and her eyes fluttered beyond her control? Every time her nostrils flared to take in more of him?

Every time she let herself discover a new part of what sex was and got a hint of what it could be?

Kim’s heat grew, and her panties were ruined.

She lost track of time, just licking, sucking, and kissing, taking him out of her mouth to lay gentle pecks along his side until she reached his tip and took him back inside of her. She honestly couldn’t tell if it had been a minute, an hour, or a day, and only her tired jaw and her complaining knees let her know it definitely wasn’t one of those.

But she just had to take another look at Ron rolling his eyes back, or dropping his jaw, or moaning in sheer ecstasy as he clenched his fists and tried not to grab a fistful of her hair for her to dive right back in, to take him that much farther inside of her, her cheeks sinking in with her desperate suction.

“Kim… Kim, I’m going to—”

And she sped up.

Ron grunted, his fist tightening until his knuckles whitened, and she…

She let go of his thigh to grab his wrist, and, looking straight up at him, she put it by the left side of her head.

He looked down at her in surprise.

And she, cheeks burning as much as her lungs, slowly closed her eyes before diving forward, pushing his tip right against her throat, holding her breath as she tried to swallow his thick tip, forcing herself against him again and again until he finally allowed himself to grasp her hair and pull her forward.

Then his tip, the thick, purple thing that kept depositing beads of sweet nectar over her eager tongue… breached her.

Sparks flew behind her closed eyelids, her thighs pressed together hard enough that her wet panties stuck to them, and Kim let go of Ron’s hand to shove her own down, down below purple embroidery and a glittering pearl to look for her own one, feeling something approaching faster than whenever she had been alone and thinking precisely about this moment.

“Kim! Kim, I am going to—”

And Kim swallowed, her throat rhythmically clenching around her boyfriend’s cock until he burst inside of her, his warm explosion mixing with one below her hand and spreading across her body until both fires met in her chest and took her away.

***

“Kim? Are you all right, Kim?” Ron’s concerned voice woke her up.

She took a moment to orient herself before answering. It wasn’t the first time she had regained consciousness in his arms, but…

Huh. She usually was slightly more dressed, she guessed.

“Ron?” she weakly answered.

“Oh, thank God! I thought I had drowned you or something!”

Remembering precisely how she had fallen unconscious this one time, Kim first blushed in embarrassment, then giggled at the sheer absurdity of drowning in her boyfriend’s semen.

Then very carefully smothered the warm tingling said notion caused below her belly.

“I’m fine, just… a bit tired?” she said, caressing his cheek even as he worriedly looked down at her, the ground glass lamps in the ceiling framing him in a diffuse halo that made her think very sappy, embarrassingly stupid, delightfully pleasant thoughts.

His naked, toned body, his unyielding arms holding her atop the soft mattress, and his hazel eyes looking at her like she was the center of his whole world weren’t precisely helping.

“I… I don’t think I’m going to be able to hide this,” she said, brushing his hair back from his matted forehead, her cheeks already hurting from her constant smile.

“Mister P is going to kill me,” he said, answering her smile.

And they… just looked at one another.

Kim wanted to tell him a lot of things. A lot of little, unsaid things she had managed to keep from him despite their lifelong bond. How she’d sometimes looked at him despite herself, how she had yearned for something more than a friendly hug, no matter how much she always craved those, how she had hoped, and hid, and pretended.

He…

He was Ron Stoppable, and words had never been his forte.

So he slowly lowered his head until their lips met like they had again and again since that first time they had allowed themselves to be something other than friends and partners. He tasted her, delicately and longingly, just as she offered herself to him, arching her back and dropping her neck back as her lips let his tongue in.

They kissed like they had done a thousand times before, but unlike any of them.

Kim almost didn’t realize it when her hands went behind her back and unclasped her bra, and Ron’s eyes remained closed even as his hands rose to delicately cup her breasts, touching their bare skin for the first time. She moaned, her legs opening, the right one sliding beneath the warm body at her side before dragging him on top of her so she could feel hard, straight lines pressing down on her softer ones.

He was already hard, and that made her thrill.

She felt him, pushing against her, pulling up at the wet fabric clinging to her sex, and she held him in place to keep the kiss going even as she struggled to lower her panties, the ones she had chosen just for him after a long, mortifying talk with her mother and a furtive expedition to the lingerie store.

She had hoped so much, on that day. And it all felt so silly now.

He pulled her up, sitting her on the white, pooling sheets as he rose so she could bring her legs up to her chest and slide her panties up and down, off, even as he kept their kiss going and she allowed herself the brief, impish temptation to dangle her wet panties from the tip of her left foot.

So she slid her right leg down and pulled him back on top of her, then broke the kiss and looked at his surprised, almost hurt face before, making full use of her cheerleading training, she brought her dainty foot up between their faces.

The way his eyes widened and Adam’s apple bobbed made every single excruciating moment of stretching past her limits worth it ten times over.

And when he smiled and took the panties off her foot with his teeth, letting them fall right by her face so the smell of her arousal hit her as hard as his own had moments earlier?

Kim melted.

The smile, though? The already painful, constant reminder of her joy and discovery? The smile remained.

And so did his.

“Kim, I…” he started, breaking the silence and threatening to break the spell.

Except not. Except he couldn’t. Because the spell was them being together, and that had already worked ten years ago. The magic was done, and now they were just living in it.

“I love you,” she said, yet again.

He marveled at it, once more.

And, with that, he lowered his lips to take hers, and his hips to take her.

Her legs wrapped around him, a small hand, smaller than his, sliding between their bodies to grab him once more and point him at her center, at where she wanted him to go in, to finally take what had always been meant just for him and him alone.

Kim felt like crying, and laughing, and all the things in between.

And then Ron pushed, and she…

She did nothing but clasp his hair and pull him against her, the kiss so hard no sound could escape from between them.

There was no thin barrier to pierce through, years of acrobatics had made sure of that, but nothing but Kim’s fingers had ever gone where Ron now was, and she felt something too close to pain as he rocked back and forth, slowly yet surely reclaiming her body as she felt herself opening up to him, softening at his pushing, and yearning for him at his pulling.

It was… She had talked about it with Monique, listened to Bonnie’s locker room talk, and had a very embarrassing and thorough chat with her mother.

And they were all right. Everything she had heard was true (except for maybe some of Bonnie’s claims that had suddenly changed after one day when she came back from a date far less acerbic than she usually was). Sex was… It was just as she had been led to believe.

Yet, at the same time, it was so much more.

Because Ron’s hands were maddeningly gentle on her body, ghosting over her belly before cupping her breasts and pulling at her nipples softly enough that it felt more like a ripple going through her than anything else, and his lips on hers were suckling and pulling, his tongue exploring her own and dancing with her to the point of exhaustion, and his… his cockwas now so much deeper than she thought it would be when they started, and going deeper with every renewed cycle of pushing and pulling, of going in and out, of making her desperately miss him before being fulfilled.

Sex was everything she had been told. But… But maybe making love was more.

And Kim felt like crying, laughing, and everything in between.

Yet so did Ron.

Because this was Kim beneath him, her body undulating at each of his touches even as he frantically tried to remember Shego’s lessons now that it was so obvious what they were for. He was reverently touching skin far more delicate than any stupid peach, kissing lips that tasted better than any grape, and…

And moving in and out of the girl he loved.

He would’ve liked to say it was instinct, that it just felt right—and it did. It was the rightest thing he had ever felt or done.

But things didn’t come easy to him. Not like they did to her. He had to struggle to keep up with her natural talent, and she was, on top of that, a hard worker, so Ron had always feared most being left behind, not being enough for her.

Calling Shego had been a desperate plan. A last resort from somebody who didn’t have anyone else to resort to.

He had never been happier with any of his choices. The one exception would have been remaining at the side of a certain redhead prone to puppy pouts, but, really, that had never been a choice.

That had been destiny.

So he was careful and attentive, paying attention to every single one of her suppressed sighs and moans, to the way her fingers clenched on his hair when he pulled out, dragging the top of his member along the rougher patch of skin above her entrance. To the way her thighs pressed down on his sides when he finally reached the end of her, and he circled his hips atop hers, grinding down on her as her eyes closed tightly enough to quiver beneath his.

To the way Kim Possible, her girlfriend, her best friend, her destiny, gave her virginity to him.

And enjoyed it.

Ron… Ron Stoppable, savior of the world, had never been prouder.

Then she tilted her hips up, and his passage became easier even as she tightened around him, her wet warmth letting him effortlessly glide in and out of the body he never wanted to be away from. Kim’s fingers went from his hair to the back of his head…

And they broke off their kiss.

His lips tingled as he looked down at her, green eyes captivating him once more like they always had and always would, and Kim Possible, the perfect girl, looked back with her red hair in disarray, spread like an imperfect, firey halo over the soft, white pillow beneath her as she smiled at him in a new way he would always treasure.

“I… I am close, I think,” she said.

And just those words almost made him lose his carefully maintained control.

“Me… Me too,” he managed to answer without shooting everything he had inside of her even as the mental image pushed him that much closer.

But, as she heard his words, her eyes brightened, and her smile impossibly widened even as her outstretched arms pulled his head down to the side of hers so she could whisper in his ear.

“I’m on the pill, Ron. Fill me up,” she breathed in what she thought would be a mortifying demand yet ended up making her toes curl and her sex clench down on him.

He, already on the verge of breaking down, sped up his movements, his determination not to hurt her, not to even inconvenience her, briefly broken by her need even as Kim herself made every effort to meet his thrusts, bouncing her body below his, the soft mattress yielding at each of their increasingly forceful movements.

And then Ron, for the second time that day, felt his mind shut down and his body take over as he pushed one last time, and waves of pure sensation wracked him from the inside out, each of them accompanied by a jet of semen shooting out, each burst making him grind down on Kim’s sex even as she moaned, and pleaded, and ended up biting his shoulder as she kept trembling in mirrored ecstasy.

It took him far longer than it ever had when he was on his own, guiltily thinking about Kim’s cheerleading routine or her last attempts to help him learn a normal martial art before they finally discovered that he was, and had always been, far from normal.

It took him longer, because, he suspected, his body recognized the difference between soothing release and being… with Kim.

When they finally stopped, spent even as they kept shivering in surges of discharged sensation, and Kim embarrassedly stopped her biting and soothingly kissed up his shoulder and neck, he held himself up above her.

And she looked up at him.

Then they both smiled shy, marveled smiles, and went back to kissing eager lips even as they regained lost vigor for their next time.

***

Shego was furious.

That, by itself, was far from a noteworthy event. Some may say it was about as informative a sentence as claiming that water was wet or Drakken an embarrassment to villainy.

What made things different this time around was that, while Shego’s fury was somewhat adjacent to the ire-inducing cheerleader she had embarrassingly lost to again and again, she definitely was not going to try and take it out on her, no matter how tempting it had been to take advantage of the sweaty, cum-covered teen barely able to drag herself out of the bed a few hours and countries earlier.

No, this time around, Shego had a far more deserving target in mind.

“Shego? Do you know why we have so much decaf? I could’ve sworn I bought a few bags of Colombian the last time we went down to burn a few—” Drakken’s grating voice greeted her as she stepped into the spacious kitchen of their latest cavern-themed lair.

She interrupted him by blowing up the espresso machine. Which only worsened her mood, seeing how long it had taken to find one that made cappuccinos just the way she liked them.

“Shego! What is the meaning of this—”

“Shut up! Shut up and listen!” she said before jumping on top of the grey counter, crouched down to remain at eye-level with the infuriating blue man. “I’ve had a terrible night sleeping beside two very loud teens who didn’t even have the decency to fumble around clumsily like they should. Oh, no, they had to go full lovey-dovey, intense, romantic sex for hours straight! It came to the point that I felt guilty watching and had to turn off the damn monitors, yet they kept being loudly and saccharinely in love! Do you realize how annoying this whole thing was?!”

Drakken, not-certified super genius that he was, blinked at his often-volatile sideki—accomplice.

“No?” he cautiously asked.

“Very! It was very annoying! It should have been mocking gold! I have been deprived, Doctor D! Robbed!”

“I am… sorry?”

“Yes! Yes, you are!” she said, grabbing the collar of his lab coat and dragging him close enough she could smell the ridiculous aftershave that he thought made him seem manly and suave. “You are a sorry excuse for a supervillain! A terrible example of what the worst of society should be! You are awful at being bad!”

Drakken, who had spent a long while thinking about precisely how well things had aligned the one and only time he had tried to do good rather than conquer the world, very carefully pretended to be offended.

“Not even going to argue back? Good, because there’s nothing you could say to me that could convince me otherwise. You can’t sayanything to convince me you are a good villain after how you acted when you mind-controlled me.”

“She—Shego?! I thought we had already gone over that?” he asked in sheer bewilderment.

The green eyes of the villainess narrowed, and she let him go before jumping over him with a somersault that ended with her showing her back to him.

“Oh, we did. And you apologized. Over and over again, apologized for making me pick things up off the floor like this,” she said, bending over in a way that stretched her green and black suit and made Drakken try not to stretch his own pants. “You apologized for looking at me inappropriately. You apologized, Doctor D.”

“I… yes? I did?” he said, not quite knowing what else to say while his eyes were fixated on Shego’s legs, ass, and everything in between.

She looked at him from between said legs, her eyes narrowing…

And shot five bolts of precise, focused plasma that blew up the buttons of his coat.

“A supervillain does not apologize,” she said, angrily licking her lips and swaying her behind in tempting circles. “A supervillain takes.”

Then, grasping her ankles and looking at him upside down, Shego angrily glared at the one man she’d stayed at the side of for years despite no clear reason as to why she should.

Said villain looked down at his open coat and at the woman hostilely presenting herself to him.

“I… I think I’m getting some mixed signals in here,” he said.

And Shego screamed.

Hours later, she would scream some more, and equally angrily, but maybe far less frustrated.