Yeah guys, this is my first time submitting anything to this site and I'm REALLY excited as to what you guys may think. I tried to keep them in character as much as possible. I'm not really proud of the title, but it was all I could think of :pp. Please, don't be a stranger; review and let me know your opinions! And most importantly, enjoy!
"No? What do you mean 'No'?"
"Argh, I mean 'No', Vegeta! I'm tied up at the moment; this project is far overdue and it cannot wait!"
Rapping her nails, Bulma was sitting at her desk in the lab, focused on yet another project for Capsule Corp.; sheets of paper unceremoniously scattered the desk as she tried to brainstorm a solution for a glitch in one of their recent inventions – that is, until their houseguest marched in and demanded she fix the gravity room he broke, yet again.
"Woman," Vegeta drawled, waving his hand dismissively, "your project does not benefit me in the slightest, so therefore, I could care less. What would benefit me, however, is if you fix that chamber as I requested at once."
"And it would be convenient for me if it was ready by the time that blonde woman serves lunch."
She whipped around, cerulean eyes flashing angrily, wisps of blue falling from her ponytail, lightly framing her face, and fists clenched at her sides as she shook with rage.
"Convenient? For you? Do I look like your servant?" she fumed. "It's enough that my family has shown you hospitality by letting you live here! We provide you enough food for your abyss of a stomach, and you have the means to train for as much as you want! And for what? You don't as much as lift a finger or show any gratitude!"
The prince's face was etched into an uglier version of its trademark scowl.
"There are two geniuses in this household to fix whatever you break without any hesitation; the least you can do is be considerate to other people's time, especially if said people provide you with everything you need!"
Vegeta's eyebrow twitched with irritation, a growl emitting from the depths of his chest.
How dare she! The nerve of that wench to speak to me this way!
"I don't have time for this annoying banter," he snapped. "My training far exceeds the importance of your project and your anger issues. I will not be delayed anymore than I have to, and my deadline still stands."
He turned on his heel and started for the door. Before reaching it, though, he stopped and turned his head to glance at her. "Besides, it's not my fault you procrastinated on your project and are incapable of taking care of things in a timely manner, now is it, Woman?" Tilting his head at the clock on his left, he smirked. "By the looks of it, I'd say you better get to work." With that, he left the room.
"Why, you pompous ass!" she spouted after his retreating form.
It was always like this between them, a game of constant bickering. He'd break one of his toys and demand that she fix it, then she would yell at him for being inconsiderate, he'd insult her, she'd retort back, and the cycle went on and on until someone had the last word. Unfortunately, Bulma didn't have that satisfaction this time, and it's sad to say a lot of their arguments ended that way.
"Arrogant, saiya-jin bastard…" she muttered. She looked around for the first thing she could vent her anger out on. Finding a wrench, she chucked it at the wall and got some mild satisfaction as it made a small dent in the plaster and clattered loudly as it fell to the floor. It felt good to blow some steam, even if she couldn't cause any serious damage. She glanced at her paperwork and sighed. She wouldn't mind a break; as of right now, her chicken scratch was getting hard to decipher and her stomach was trying to get her attention. She looked at the time piece hanging on the wall: 11:47 AM.
Might as well get a little snack…
She glanced at the clock again then out the window at the gravity chamber. His royal pain-in-the-ass was outside on the lawn doing katas.
Might as well check out his stupid chamber while I'm at it to see what I'm dealing with.
She stood, leaving the desk in all its clutter, and pushed the chair in. Reaching the door, she flicked the switch and made her way to the kitchen. Upon arriving, she couldn't help but notice no one was around. Opening the fridge, she grabbed a pitcher of lemonade to pour herself a glass. It wasn't until after she closed it that she noticed the tray of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the island.
Mom probably ran to the store, she thought, considering her mom was always around to make lunch around this time. But if there was no lunch, Vegeta would come to bother her about it. It was already enough that he pissed her off, but she didn't want to deal with him anymore than she had to. That's his ass; he'll just have to fend for himself until dinner time. Grabbing a couple cookies off the tray, she snatched up a napkin and headed to the gravity room to assess the damage.
"Shit…" she ground out as an electric shock coursed through her fingertips and pulsed down to her toes. The sound reached the saiya-jin's ears and Vegeta stopped mid-push up to look curiously from his position on the grass.
Bulma was lying on her back while attending to the prince's gravity room console; she was elbow deep in wires and circuit boards. A couple breakers were blown out, but the wires seemed fine. The damage wasn't that bad, so she was able to reassess it while he worked out on the lawn; the upgrades were done in a little over an hour. She was in the process of putting her tools back in their box when he came in.
"Well it's about time, Woman."
Bulma! My name is Bulma!
She grit her teeth and ignored his comment.
Gathering her things, she stood up and turned around to find him leaning casually on the door frame.
"It's done." As she headed for the door, he made no point to move. She wasn't going to touch him, and she didn't feel like fighting, so she halted in front of him, regarding him coolly with her eyes. He smirked at her irritated expression, the obsidian hue in his eyes glinting with amusement.
"Your toy is fixed, Vegeta, and I did it before your deadline. You got what you want, now move."
He still made no sign of moving, and it took Bulma a period of 4.7 seconds before letting out an exasperated "Gaah!" and shoving past him. In her haste, she swung her arm a bit too roughly and the tool box flew free from her grasp, opening and allowing several of its contents to clatter to the walkway's pavement with a series of loud "clang!"s.
The prince snickered at her agitation as he watched her stoop down to retrieve the objects and put them back in the box; then he was greeted with the sight of Bulma's rear. She picked up the box and was on her way back to the mansion, Vegeta's eyes still on her ass. It was round, and full, and looking so right in those shorts…the way each cheek rose and fell with each sway of those hips. If only he could sq-
The saiya-jin blinked and snapped out of his thoughts, shaking his head in distaste.
"Bahh!" he muttered. "Stupid shorts…" and he retreated into the chamber and engaged the safety lock.
Not thirty minutes later, he was entering the kitchen, sniffing, but finding nothing in the air. Where was the food?
Argh! Where is that blonde woman?
He glanced around, not finding anyone within the area. He stretched out his senses, feeling for their ki signatures. The old man was in his study upstairs, the blue haired woman was back in her lab, tinkering with Kami knew what, but he couldn't find the blonde airhead. As much as he hated being around the infuriatingly happy-go-lucky woman, he couldn't complain: he barely saw her throughout the day anyways, and she cooked his meals.
But right now, his meal was nowhere to be found. He scowled as he looked around the kitchen. It was then he noticed the batch of cookies on the island counter. Grunting, he walked over and picked one up, holding it between his thumb and fore finger. Bringing it closer to his face, he brought it to his nose and sniffed. Tentatively, he brought the treat to his lips and took a small bite. His mouth exploded with sweet, crumbling flavor, the chocolate chunks melting on his tongue as he chewed. No longer wary, he shoved the rest into his mouth and reached for another. After eating four, he decided to find the blue-haired harpy so she could make him some real food.
Bulma looked up to the sound of her door opening, somehow not surprised to find Vegeta standing there, yet again, in some need of her assistance.
"There's no lunch," he expressed, arms crossed before his chest.
"What do you want me to do?" she questioned, tapping her pencil on the desk.
She huffed in annoyance. "I'm afraid I can't do that."
His brow twitched. "And why not? Are you expecting the Easter Bunny to do it?"
She spun in her chair to look at him fully. "I've already wasted enough time fixing your precious gravity chamber," she explained, "and I told you already that I have more pressing matters here to deal with. You're gonna have to help yourself out until dinner."
The saiya-jin's eyes narrowed. A slick retort was forming on the tip of his tongue, but before he could open his mouth, Bulma was already on her feet and right in front of him.
"Now, forgive me, your highness, but I have work to do." With that, she promptly closed the door in his face in the time it took his inhale to become an exhale. Chuckling to herself, she settled back in her chair to continue on with her work.
Vegeta blinked in frustration.
The hell? I need to eat, damn it! Does she expect me to cook? I will not bring myself so low as to prepare my own meals, especially when there are people to do it for me!
He scoffed in irritation at the lab door, glaring like it was the one that did him this injustice. But of course, the door did not falter under his murderous gaze.
"Baka," he accused, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Knowing that insulting the wooden barrier wouldn't get him anywhere, he stormed down the hallway and made it back to the kitchen. Not knowing what else to do, he opted for taking the entire tray of cookies. It was nowhere near the amount of food he should be eating, and he was still hungry, but there was nothing else to sustain himself.
"Stupid woman," he muttered as he headed back out to the GR, leaving the empty cookie tray on the counter.
Vegeta spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening training. Eventually, he sensed Bunny's ki return to the house; she'd returned from grocery shopping and had spent the rest of the day bustling about the kitchen, no doubt preparing the evening meal. He worked off his 'lunch' a long time ago, and was beyond famished, so he stopped his training and closed up the gravity chamber; even a fully fed prince was a grumpy one, so there was no telling how irritable a starving one could be.
Upon sliding open the glass door, the aroma of fried noodles, egg rolls, honeyed chicken and other tantalizing provisions greeted his nose. He sniffed the air once, twice, the different scents making his mouth salivate. Then he grimaced at the stench coming from his sweaty body.
If it were up to him, he would join the family at the table just the way he was; a typical saiya-jin didn't waste his time fretting over frivolous matters such as his body odor after combat; after all, the more you sweat while fighting proved your skills as a warrior, right? But he kept walking through the house, steering clear of the kitchen, for he knew the blonde woman wouldn't dare serve him unless he washed up.
Stupid earthling habits. What idiot enforced hygiene for food consumption?
He quietly maneuvered his way to the bathroom near his room and prepared to take a shower. Turning the knobs so that they reached a suitable temperature, he shed his spandex training shorts and stepped under the steamy jets. He reveled in the heated water pounding on his skin, relaxing his tense muscles after a day of pushing their limits. His usually gravity-defying hair hung between his shoulder blades as the false rain pelted him. Droplets trickled down his face and ran in rivulets down his chest. He sighed, his hardened expression softening; alone in the bathroom, he needn't worry about keeping his guard up and he allowed himself a moment of contentment.
Still in the lab, Bulma's nose picked up the smell of food permeating throughout the house from her chair. As if on cue, her vacant stomach growled furiously from neglect. Being in the lab for the remainder of the day allowed Bulma to finally develop a solution for the glitch in her project; she even started reconstructing a new model. Excited with her progress, she was able to forget how hungry she was until now. Sighing, she glanced at her station, admiring her handiwork.
"Well, I was able to get a lot done today," she mused. "Might as well wrap up for the night and pick this up tomorrow." After leaving the lab, Bulma gave in to her urges and allowed her nose to lead her to the kitchen.
Bunny was just finishing setting up the table when her daughter waltzed into the dining area.
"Hello, sweetie," Mrs. Briefs chirped as she set down an empty plate by her husband's chair.
"Hey, Mom," she returned, giving her mother a tender smile.
Bulma then looked around; her father and a certain prince weren't present.
"Where is everyone?"
"Oh, your father is on his way down from the study. As for Mr. Vegeta," she clapped her hands, "I know I heard him come in; he's probably taking a shower after working so hard!" Bulma rolled her eyes but didn't comment.
She was right about to take a seat when her mom tutted and shooed her away from the table. "Bulma, do you realize how dirty that shirt is?"
Bulma looked and grimaced at the black smudges and grease stains all down her front.
She had been so preoccupied with fixing the gravity chamber and reconstructing that she didn't even notice.
"Aw man! Give me a break for crying out loud!" she grouched. She turned and headed for her room to change, skipping up the steps two at a time. Reaching the top of the stairs, she started pulling her shirt over her head as she headed down the hallway to her door. Unbeknownst to her, someone was just leaving the bathroom a few steps ahead, and it was too late to stop their collision.
Bulma stumbled back and struggled to get the rest of her top off to see what she had bumped into. There stood her reason, still slick from the shower, clad in nothing but a damp towel; the ridges and planes of his hard stomach glistening, well defined arms crossing over a perfectly sculpted chest, an amused smirk plastered on his face. When Bulma's eyes met his, rosy embarrassment dusted her cheeks as she realized she'd been caught staring.
"Like what you see, Woman?" the prince asked cheekily.
Oh YES! she wanted to say, but wisely pinched her lips together and looked away. Feeling his eyes on her, she suddenly felt self conscious and then it dawned on her: my shirt! Her realization only succeeded in spreading the rosiness down her neck, and she cursed herself for her carelessness as she tried to cover her chest.
"Is there a particular reason why you're shedding your clothing and flaunting your bareness about, Woman?" an ebony brow rose at her failed attempts to hide the purple bra that cupped her modesty. Bulma flushed even more.
"Well if you must know," she hated how high her voice sounded, "my shirt was dirty and I came up here to change." By the end of that 'e', her gaze had already lowered back to trace patterns over the various scars that adorned his pectorals.
This didn't go unnoticed by Vegeta, and he effortlessly flexed his pecks, immediately snapping Bulma back to attention. She blinked and pointed a finger at him.
"And what are you doing, walking around naked and bumping into people?" She winced and inwardly berated herself for asking such a stupid question.
Hello! Towel, damp hair, hot, wet nakedness? DUH, Bulma, think!
The prince smirked. "On the contrary, Woman, you bumped into me; I sensed you were out here, but I wasn't planning to be smashed into the minute I stepped out of the bathroom." He lowered his arms. "And I have a valid excuse for being unclothed: I just took a shower. You, on the other hand, are the one showcasing indecent exposure, obviously too eager to rid yourself of that garment to do so in the privacy of your own quarters."
Bulma knew he had her on this one, but that didn't mean she was going to show it.
"Well, dinner is ready, I'm hungry and I wasn't going to take my time!" she protested, trying to maneuver her way around his partially nude form. Vegeta's eyes quickly roamed over her figure; from her slender shoulders, the depth of her cleavage, down her small waist to her voluptuous hips and back up again. He was tempted to reach out when her shrill voice pierced his thoughts.
"Excuse me!" he had been blocking her way.
The saiya-jin grunted and stepped aside. As she shuffled past, he looked and traced the soft curves of her back.
"…nice undergarments," he expressed, and continued on to his room without even giving her a chance to retort.
Calm down, Bulma, breathe! After taking a few deep breaths, she reached her room and promptly closed the door. She stared at the dirty shirt clenched in her hand and carelessly tossed it in the hamper by the closet. Crossing the room to her dresser, she rummaged through her drawers for a clean shirt; just something simple to wear for dinner and be put back before her shower. Settling for a simple black wifebeater, she started to tug it on, but not before she caught her twin in the mirror.
Bulma studied herself. Her creamy, pale skin contrasted sharply with the color of the clothing she was putting on. She was so small. She didn't like the way one of her lower ribs jutted out farther than the other, she wished she had boobs like Chi Chi, and it frustrated her that whenever she tried to tan, her skin only got red and blotchy. If only she had skin like him.
Bulma's mind wandered back to the prince's skin: it was kissed golden after countless times of fighting in the sun and working out in her yard whenever the gravity chamber broke. It was smooth and firm over taut muscles. Broad shoulders, bulging biceps, a sculpted chest, trim obliques and stacked abdominals - a perfect body marred by scars that ran parallel and intersected each other like slopes on a four-planed graph. She would never admit it, but she would gladly fix his gravity chamber without hesitating if said chamber was making him look like that.
No! This is Vegeta! Heartless, sadistic, dwarf-sized, Prince-of-assholes Vegeta!
He was like a walking time bomb; a temper, violence, arrogance and a contemptuous voice all rolled into a tight, compact package, albeit a sexy one.
Bulma shook her head to rid herself of the pleasing imagery and pulled on her shirt. No matter how attractive their guest was, he was still a prick, and she knew better than that; Yamcha was the perfect example. Knowing what type of woman she was, it would be below her standards, therefore a self disappointment to let her body take over her thinking processes, especially with the likes of him – not that it would even happen anyway.
Slim chance! What are the odds of that?
Somewhere, though, sewn into the edges of the back of her subconscious, a small part of her was wistfully contemplating that possibility.
Clad in a fresh pair of boxers, Vegeta was currently at war with himself as he yanked open a drawer for a clean shirt and pants.
Why all of a sudden was he flustered over that woman? It was absurd! He refused to acknowledge any feelings for her or anyone.
Pah! Emotions make you weak, and I am NOT weak. I only know my strength and my pride. Those are all I need.
He slipped a leg through his sweats, one after the other, and pulled them up.
It was true, at least to his eyes. Having feelings only made you weaker; they affected your decisions and only made you suffer in the end. Who needed feelings? He didn't. Especially with the life he'd been dealt, what could they have done for him? He was the prince of a once proud race, a super-elite warrior, the last saiya-jin of the first class. From what he knew of his home planet, Vegeta-sei, saiya-jins didn't do emotions. He'd be the most powerful being in the universe if he wasn't bested by that third class clown, Kakarrot; this only fueled his determination to keep training so he could finally achieve his goal as a Super Saiya-jin; if the fool could reach ascension, he could just as easily. His mind was already set - there was no room for such an inconvenience.
Feh. The last thing I need is to become a lovesick puppy like that third class buffoon.
Finding a t-shirt, he tugged it on. The prince's mind kept wandering back to his encounter with Bulma in the hallway. While it was amusing, he couldn't help but try to stamp the image of the woman's figure in his brain; he successfully memorized her contours and cursed himself for doing so, for it was difficult not to think about them. He absently wondered how her alabaster skin would feel under his fingers; it was so unlike his own. Where he had acquired hard muscles and scars, hers looked soft and extremely smooth, like she was perfectly carved out of the finest marble.
Vegeta clenched his jaw.
I should NOT be having such improper thoughts about a weakling human!
But even as he mentally chided himself, he was starting to imagine that curvaceous body without that bra it was wearing and was disgusted with himself for it. It wasn't like him to even remotely take any interest in anything that wasn't training related, so his behavior was quite unnerving to say the least.
He would never admit it, but even though she didn't have any physical prowess, he couldn't deny that the annoying woman was very nice to look at. She was also a genius; her intelligence was worlds beyond the bakas that inhabited this mudball. It was partly the reason why he found their quarrels entertaining; Bulma was the only one he interacted with the most on a daily basis, even if they rarely got along. It was safe to say that Bulma was up to par with his standards, even if he refused to acknowledge that.
Wait, what? The fuck am I thinking?
He furrowed his brow and started for the door.
She's a human, a weakling, he thought bitterly as he turned the knob.
She is of no importance to me, just like the rest of her kind on this god forsaken planet.
Finally self assured, he stepped into the hallway and headed for the stairs.
The faint clinking of plates and silverware was emanating from the dining room as the Briefs and their houseguest sat down for the evening meal. At one end of the table was Dr. Briefs, his wife and daughter on either side of him; at the other sat Vegeta, concealed by the mountain of dishes that were piled before him as he ate in silence.
"So you were able to fix the glitch, huh?" Dr. Briefs asked. Bulma had just related to him how she had spent her time in the lab that day.
"Well, not exactly fix it," Bulma explained, "I was able to find an alternative solution to the problem. The original model was malfunctioning because there were shortages in the wiring; apparently, we weren't using the right type of wires for that specific use. Because of that, when they eventually gave out, it caused the circuits to blow a fuse, rendering it to stop working altogether."
As the two scientists conversed, Bunny looked down the table at their houseguest.
"Oh, Mr. Vegeta!" she chirped, "I hope your training went well today; you've been working so hard!"
"Hn," the prince grunted at her and continued with his meal. The airhead was just so unnervingly optimistic about everything, he vaguely wondered if she crapped rainbows.
Vegeta never spoke at the table whenever they sat down to eat. He would wordlessly sit down and consume his food quietly; when he was finished, he'd leave the room just as he'd came in, leaving a heap of dishes in his wake, without so much as a "thanks". He never really paid attention to the family's conversations because he frankly didn't care; it didn't take a genius to figure that out. But, despite his attempts to stay disconnected, that never stopped the blonde from talking to him.
"I'm so glad to see you're enjoying the food!" she prattled on. The prince rolled his eyes and shoveled some more rice into his mouth.
"Well I think it's good that you settled for the second idea, dear," Dr. Briefs was telling his daughter. "You've already started reconstructing the newer version, so there's a good chance the new design will allow the old wires to work. Plus, we can add upgrades that we may have failed to put on the older model to make the device even more efficient." Bulma nodded her head in agreement as she speared a piece of chicken with her fork.
The rest of the meal was continued in silence.
As his food diminished gradually, the saiya-jin's face became less obscured by the stack of dishes in front of him. Bulma watched him from the corner of her eye. If she hadn't known Goku before Vegeta's arrival, she probably would've been disgusted by his appetite. Though both were members of the same race, they had completely different mannerisms. Whenever her best friend was presented with heaps of provisions, especially his favorites, it was equivalent to a pauper at a king's banquet: burping, slurping, reaching for things he didn't even know and gnawing at them to the bone. At least Vegeta held an air of dignity while he ate, never spilling a crumb or making a mess on his clothes; she could only assume that's what came with being born a prince.
Swallowing the last of her rice, Bulma picked up her plate and stood up.
"Thanks for dinner, Mom," she absently patted her stomach, "I swear, you're trying to make me fat!" She crossed to the other side of the kitchen and deposited her dirty dishes in the sink.
Bunny beamed. "Oh, never that, dear – oh! No, sweetie, don't worry about those. I'll get the bots to take care of them."
Bulma shrugged. "Oka-" she was interrupted by her own yawn.
"Someone's tired," said Bunny.
"I guess all the work I've done today really took a lot of energy," Bulma agreed. "I'm gonna check in for the night." She turned to head out of the kitchen.
"Okay, dear," Dr. Briefs called after her. "I'm gonna drop by the lab tomorrow if I'm not too busy; I would like to see the blue prints and help you with the reconstructing." Bulma waved her hand in acknowledgement and left the room.
The Briefs resumed their eating and were talking quietly amongst each other whilst Vegeta wrapped up his meal. Slurping up the last of his noodles, he stood and left the kitchen without a word. Bunny smiled at his retreating form and glanced at the pile of dirty dishes he'd left behind.
"Such a nice man, isn't he dear?"
Bulma was currently in the bathroom and looking forward to some much needed relaxation after a long day; working on the gravity chamber and spending countless hours using her brilliance was exhausting, not to mention her encounter with Vegeta in the hallway before dinner. She shivered.
Am I wrong for thinking about him like this?
She twisted the knobs of the large tub and started pouring the bubble bath, watching the concentrated solution seep into the water and suds up immediately from the violent waterfall cascading from the faucet. She continued to distract herself so she wouldn't have to answer her own question. Waiting for the tub to fill, she made a quick dash to her room to collect the one thing she would need for her bath. Her mind was whirling with equations and formulas and a haughty prince and she just wanted to escape all of it. She pounced on her comforter and lifted a pillow.
Where is it?
Since her family owned the most successful and prosperous company in the world, you can guess that they made pretty much everything, including MP3s. The CapsPod, a device she was proud to say she invented herself, was what she was currently looking for. She tossed the cushion behind her as she continued her frantic search. Five more pillows had joined that other one on the floor before she found what she needed. Stuffing the electronic in her pocket, she put the pillows back on the bed and yanked open her desk drawer. Finding the portable dock system and remote, she made her way back to the bathroom and locked the door.
The tub was just about filled to the brim with bubbles, so she cut the water off. Placing the dock system on the counter, she scrolled through her CapsPod until she found the playlist she wanted. Satisfied, she set the MP3 on the dock and plugged it into the outlet by the light switch. The notes of a piano's keys reverberated through the speakers as Alicia Keys began to sing; Bulma adjusted the volume so the melody could softly bounce off the bathroom walls and the tiles on the floor.
Moment of honesty,
Someone's gotta take the lead tonight, who's it gonna be?
I'm gonna sit right here and tell you all that comes to me.
If you have something to say, you should say it right now…
She sang the lyrics in her head as she stripped herself of her clothing and stepped into the tub. She sank into to the hot water and let the artist's voice wash over her.
You give me a feeling that I've never felt before,
And I deserve it, I think I deserve it.
It's becoming something that's impossible to ignore,
And I can't take it…
She allowed her mind to go blank as she completely submerged herself in the bath. This was nice; she was grateful to allow herself a much needed break. The bathroom door was locked, so no one would disturb her. It was just her soaking away her stress and bottled up nerves in the fruity scented bubbles while Alicia sang to her.
Somewhere else in the house, Vegeta's sensitive ears pricked.
What is that bothersome racket?
From his position on the living room couch, he zeroed in on the sound and traced it back to the bathroom where he found the woman's ki.
He scowled. "Can't she bathe herself without causing disturbances?" he asked himself, clearly annoyed. "What in the seven hells is that?"
As irritated as he was, getting up to investigate didn't seem very appealing at the moment, so he sulked, letting the noise or whatever it was assault his acute hearing.
Bulma's head broke the surface of the soapy water. Lathering some bath gel into a shower sponge, she started to wash herself.
I was wondering, maybe,
Could I make you my baby?
If we do the unthinkable, would it make us look crazy?
If you ask me, I'm ready…
She dropped the sponge into the water. Squeezing a glob of shampoo into her hand, she worked her fingers into her scalp, blue strands plastering at the base of her neck as she let her eyes flutter closed at the pleasing sensation. She liked Alicia Keys; she reminded her so much of herself. She was beautiful, a woman who carried herself respectfully and was extremely talented in her own right; a prodigy at the piano. She dipped her head back into the water to wash out the shampoo.
I know you once said to me,
"This is exactly how it should feel when it's meant to be,"
Time is only wasting, so why wait for eventually?
If we gon' do something 'bout it,
We should do it right now…
She lifted her hair out and relaxed back against the tub's headrest. This song was so relaxing, the melody just took you to a place where you didn't want to be found, if only for a little while. Bulma was the daughter of the most successful man in the world, the incoming president of Capsule Corporation, an inventor for almost half of its products, and probably one of the very few geniuses on the planet other than her father. Her intelligence was so acute, it made other geniuses not look genius at all; in other words, she was a god-damn-fucking genius!
But sometimes, when she was weighed down by all the stress of her position, she just wanted to be Bulma. Not Bulma Briefs or Miss Briefs, not the president of a world dominating company, not a genius, not anything. Just Bulma: a regular girl with girly needs like shopping, manis and pedis, cute shoes to match her outfits and a full length mirror to tell her if her jeans fit her right. It's not like being who she was prevented any of this; it's just so much was expected of her and she spent a majority of her time taking care of everyone else that there was little time to take care of herself.
Bulma sighed and stared at the ceiling. She was tired of thinking; she was in the bath solely for that purpose: to NOT think. But not thinking about anything left little for her to do, so she honed in to the lyrics of the song that was playing. As soon as she did, she immediately wished she hadn't because the lyrics reminded her of an arrogant saiya-jin, a situation in itself that she didn't want to deal with. She reached for the remote to change it, but to her dismay, it was still resting on the counter, far out of arm's length.
Why did I pick this stupid song?
Of course she could just think about something else, and she tried that, but trying not to think about him only made her want to think about him even more, so her efforts were pointless.
She let out a frustrated sigh.
Why give up before we try?
Feel the lows before the highs;
Spread our wings before we fly away…
I can't say I came prepared,
I'm suspended in the air;
Won't you come be in the sky with me?
Bulma closed her eyes and tried to imagine how the lyrics could apply to her; could it really be that simple? To follow through with what she'd been feeling? It had only been a day…or had it?
A frown formed on her lips.
"Of course not," she answered out loud.
But even as she said that, her heart wasn't backing her up. She didn't love Vegeta; despite the fact that they only tolerated each other, she didn't know enough to love about him. But this feeling…was it admiration? Fondness? Desire? All of those rolled in one? Bulma pondered this: his determination to push himself was something she admired; it wasn't until now that she admitted she had grown fond of him, despite his attitude. And desire? She'd pictured his partially clothed form in that towel and nearly choked on her noodles during dinner. Just the thought of him brought that rosiness back to her cheeks and a goofy grin on her face.
I bet sex with him would be out of this world…
What? I shouldn't be thinking this!
Bulma flushed even more and her hand slowly traveled south under the warm water.
He'd probably take me to Namek and back again…
STOP IT! Dumb conscience.
She gasped softly as her fingers made contact with her nether regions. Just then, Alicia interrupted her thoughts.
I was wondering, maybe,
Could I make you my baby?
If we do the unthinkable, would it make us look crazy?
Or would it be so beautiful – either way, I'm sayin',
If you ask me, I'm ready…
If you ask me, I'm ready.
She scowled and glared at the MP3 sitting on the dock.
Who am I kidding? That possibility is as slim as he and Goku becoming best friends! Ready my ass!
The little spark of her arousal now gone, she pulled her hand away and latched it onto the drain. As she watched the little whirlpool form and empty the tub, she berated herself for being so foolish; geniuses did not make fools out of themselves, especially to themselves. How many topless guys had she seen? Yamcha didn't stir that much of a reaction from her, and Goku liked to swim naked for crying out loud! What made his majesty any different? This was ridiculous! She was a twenty-eight year-old scientist, not some giddy schoolgirl!
As the last of the water seeped down the drain, she cut on the shower to rinse herself and the remaining suds in the tub. At that moment, the song changed; Take That's Rule the World decided to make her feel even more irritated. Shining stars, world domination…they painted his picture yet again! Why, oh WHY did he have to be an alien?
Yeah, you and me, we can ride on a star,
If you stay with me, girl, we can rule the world.
Yeah you and me, we can light up the sky,
If you stay by my side, we can rule the world.
She groaned and leaned her forehead on the tiles.
"I should go lesbian," she deadpanned.
Later that evening found Vegeta still reclining on the couch in the living room. He hadn't moved since he's heard Bulma's music, and to say he was relieved when he heard her finally leave the bathroom was an understatement.
He'd been flipping channels, trying to find something to watch. Not satisfied with the other sappy programs that were on, he settled for one where humans, enclosed in a space of sorts, tried to land blows on one another with their gloved fists within a certain time limit; after time was up, they would take a short break and go again and again until the one left standing was declared the winner. What was it…Boxing the announcer said? Yes, that was it. Vegeta found this partly amusing, watching the strongest of this weakling race pommel each other. He smirked as the other guy's opponent attacked him with jabs and knocked his legs out from under him in one swift movement.
Foolish earthlings. He's is not getting back up, that's for certain.
As the offender pounced and pounded his fists into the fallen fighter's face, he chuckled at the man's fruitless attempts to protect himself.
He flicked off the screen and carelessly tossed the remote to the other side of the sofa. Getting on his feet, he stretched his limbs, looking about the room. The older Briefs had already retired for the night; he could sense them in their wing of the residence, way on the other side of the mansion. However, the blue haired woman's quarters were right down the hall from his. Needless to say how much this annoyed him, he couldn't complain; he'd much rather live closer to her than her bothersome mother.
Lost in thought, he climbed the stairs and padded down the hallway, only pausing briefly to sense that the wench was in her room. He only took three more steps before an unfamiliar smell wafted under his nose.
What in the-?
He tentatively sniffed the air. He couldn't place it; he'd never smelt anything like this before. It was…fresh, sweet and extremely pleasant. Not like those liquid scents women wore when they wanted to look nice. No. He continued to sniff the air to pinpoint where it was coming from and his nose guided him to the bathroom. The door was left ajar, and the fragrance was even more potent. He flicked on the lights and looked around. It looked like it always did. But then he saw the half empty bottle of bubble bath on the counter.
Its pink contents sloshed around as he picked up the plastic container. Twisting off the cap, he brought it under his nostrils.
This is what I'm smelling?
Regardless of his confusion, it didn't change the fact that he liked this smell. He took a big whiff and threw his head back, eyes fluttering shut as he let the fruity aroma flood his sinuses. He screwed the cap back on and brought it close to his eye for further inspection. Since he couldn't read, there was no way for him to know what the label said. Setting the bottle back on the counter, he turned to exit the bathroom, but then thought better of it. He snatched it back up, hit the switch and was in front of Bulma's room in a matter of seconds.
Bulma had just unwrapped her wet hair when she was brought to attention by a knock at her door.
Who'd be up this late at night?
The answer to her question surprised her even more as she opened it. There stood Vegeta, a confused frown on his lips with the bubble bath in his grasp.
"What is it you need, Vegeta?" She glanced at the bottle in his hand, then up at him.
His breath caught in his throat and he wanted to kick himself for it; saiya-jins did NOT do that. There she stood, clad in a fluffy white bath robe, her damp hair cascading down her back like a waterfall. He caught a good whiff of the pleasant smell emanating off of her wet tresses. He discreetly released the breath he was holding and willed himself to focus, thrusting the container in her face. "Woman, what is this?"
She blinked and nearly went cross-eyed.
Is he serious?
She noted his tone wasn't laced with disdain or malice like it usually was, and she realized the prince was actually curious and asking her an innocent question. She grinned.
"This," she eased the bottle from his hand, "is bubble bath."
He cocked an eyebrow; she would have to elaborate.
"It's a type of soap," she explained, "like what you use to bathe. However, instead of taking a shower, you fill up the bathtub and put some of this stuff in it. When this mixes with the water, it makes a lot of sudsy bubbles, hence the term 'bubble bath'."
The prince wrinkled his nose.
"Bah! Why would you waste your time pruning in a tub of soapy water when you can simply take a quick shower and be done with it?"
"Well," she tapped her chin with a finger, "they're a way to handle stress. Many women find it relaxing and exhilarating to soak after a hard day." She handed the bottle back to him.
He had to snap himself back to attention for his gaze had lowered to her chest where her robe was not as secure.
"It doesn't smell like the other soaps you leave available. Why have I never used this?"
Bulma chuckled despite herself and shook her head, causing the saiya-jin's eyes to narrow.
Why is she laughing?
"Did I say something humorous? What is it you find amusing?"
Bulma calmed herself, noting how cute he looked when he was flustered.
Oh Kami, did I just call him cute? She took the bottle from him again.
"Well," she indicated the label, "this is a product from Bath & Body Works. It's a manufacturer of bath items, like soaps, gels, shampoos, lotions, etc. They formulate their products with scents that are appealing to women. This," she read the bottle again, "is strawberry and raspberry scented; these are scents that are considered feminine. It's also my personal favorite; I only bring it out when I'm planning to use it." She smirked then. "Even if I allowed you to, I doubt that you, the mighty Prince of all saiya-jins, would want to smell like a fruit salad; it's not becoming of you!"
Vegeta crossed his arms and scoffed. What is this baka playing at?
"I seriously hope you're not trying to imply something, Woman."
Bulma was taken aback. "What? No – I was just kidding around, Vegeta, sheesh!"
He smirked. "That's what I thought."
"You know, Bath & Body Works is really for women, but – they also sell products for men, too; stuff that's more masculine and I think would be more suitable for you. I'm supposed to be heading back there tomorrow to get more. If you want, I can grab a couple men's shower gels to see if you like?"
Vegeta, for once, was at a loss for words. She was offering to do something for him, to benefit him, not because he requested it, but because she thought he might like it. He was struggling to grasp the concept behind this, as he was not familiar with acts of kindness. Saiya-jins may have helped one another, but only if there was something in it for them, something to satisfy their own selfish needs. He frowned.
"What's your motive?" he eyed her warily.
Bulma's brow furrowed. What is he talking about?
"Motive?" she repeated. "Umm, getting you soap?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"It is to my understanding that you're willing to do something for my benefit, not because it is something I requested, but because you think it would please me?" It was absurd by his standards.
Bulma looked confused.
"Well, why not?" He may have been an asshole, but that didn't make him any less of a person, did it?
The prince blinked a couple times and shook his head.
What a strange concept indeed. He couldn't bring himself to comprehend why she would go out of her way to do such a thing. He recalled her tirade earlier that morning, and he knew she was right; all he did was demand things, insult her and take pleasure in pissing her off. It wasn't until now that he truly realized that if it wasn't for her family, he'd have nowhere else to go. She tolerated him; they accommodated his every need and yet he didn't give them shit in return, not even a "thank you". He knew he did nothing to deserve this, especially from her, but here she was, easily doing something that he knew he could not. In a way, did that make her stronger than him?
He dismissed the thought, noting her waiting patiently for his answer.
"Do as you please, Woman," he waved a careless hand and departed. Bulma was left staring at the empty space under the door frame where he'd just been a moment ago.
"Alright," she said quietly as she softly closed the door.
She stared at the bottle she held in her hands.
What was that all about?
Vegeta was lying down, currently making faces at the ceiling. It wasn't because he was bored and found it amusing; if he did, he'd gladly strip himself of his title and kill himself as to not disgrace his father. No. He was having an internal struggle as to why he reacted the way he did when the woman first opened her door, and it just so happened he wasn't aware of how evidently his thoughts displayed themselves on his features.
It was obvious she had just bathed when he called on her; everyone had to clean their body after a long day – it was natural and considered disgusting if you didn't! Plus, finding the bubble bath in the bathroom didn't make it too hard to figure out. So why did he find himself so flustered at her appearance? He tried to convince himself it was because he'd never seen her in such a state before, but that didn't explain his lack of focus and his incapability to breathe the first couple of seconds.
Stupid bubbles! Stupid wet hair! Stupid woman!
No matter what he told himself, he couldn't conjure a decent explanation for his behavior. After thinking about it earlier, he'd been so self assured that she had no effect on him. Seeing that he'd proven himself wrong was unnerving; just thinking about it angered him and made his brain hurt.
I'm a warrior, and warriors do not swoon over pathetic women!
Little teenage girls did such things when they received things they weren't expecting, or when they saw the cute lead singer of their favorite boy band. This was ridiculous! Then, Vegeta had a revelation and cursed himself for his fretting. Vegeta wouldn't deny that the woman was attractive, but aside from their previous encounter before dinner, he could never recall thinking about her the way he was now.
He refused to acknowledge any emotions towards her, for that was truly insane. The bubble bath was to blame; he found it extremely luring and it was radiating off her! Yes, this was just physical. He couldn't fault his body for responding to that, but he could still have control, right?
He could still smell the tantalizing scent and the look of uncertainty in her features when she opened the door: drops trailing down her neck and forehead, her hair matted down, lips slightly parted in surprise. He vaguely pondered what she was wearing under that robe, and how she would have reacted if he tore it off her body and ran his hands across her skin. His lips curled into a scowl, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.
She was extremely annoying and troublesome. Yeah, this time, she didn't intentionally do anything, but it didn't change his mind; he knew from past experiences the woman wouldn't stop when it came to getting her way. Of course, that always meant they were butting heads. His current situation wasn't something he didn't really have any control over, and he didn't like it one bit. He was always in control of what involved him, but his attraction was pissing him the hell off.
His scowl deepened. Attractive? That blue haired devil? Have I gone mad?
It was exactly like feelings: you had no control over them. They took you all over the place and only dragged you down. Being dragged down only occurred at a moment of weakness, when you let your guard slip and were in no state to defend yourself. It went against everything he stood for and was very uncharacteristic of him; he'd be damned if he let that happen.
The prince grunted and turned to his side, his bare chest rustling against the cool sheets. The covers bunched at his waist and he could feel the draft of the central air as it hit his skin.
I don't have time for this bullshit.
He released a frustrated sigh and buried his head under a pillow, hoping to the gods he'd get some rest before his alarm went off so he could train; they knew he had far more pressing matters than to waste his time on the wretched woman.
Sleep didn't come easy for her; her mind was running a mile a minute, no matter how many times she flipped it, the pillow seemed way too warm, and her body was hot from constant movement. No matter what she did, it seemed impossible to get comfortable; she'd been trying for an hour now. She growled in frustration as she shot up and threw the sheets off her body.
She got to her feet and staggered to the bathroom. The house was dark and quiet, and she did her best to avoid creaking floorboards, careful not to make noise. As she tiptoed down the corridor, a stab of pain shot up her foot; she'd stubbed her toe against a leg of the hallway table and she bit her cheek to prevent the yelp of pain from escaping.
She held onto the wall and squeezed her eyes shut. Aw, are you fucking kidding me?
As the pain ebbed away, she resumed her mission to the bathroom. Her eyes burned as she flicked on the lights and it took her a moment for them to adjust. She looked restless. Her hair was a messy mop of blue and her face and neck were flushed with heat.
She leaned over the counter to rinse her face. The cool water felt so refreshing on her hot skin and she reached behind for a towel to pat herself dry. Already, she was starting to feel a little better.
Maybe I just need something to drink.
Exiting the bathroom, she quietly made her way to the stairs in hopes that a glass of milk would do her some good.
A "thump!" roused Vegeta from his sleep and he strained his ears to the sound of small feet padding down the hall outside his door. He didn't need to sense their ki to know who it was.
Is she incapable of moving around without causing such chaos? Blasted woman! Why is she even up at this hour?
After kicking off his covers, he slipped on a shirt and blindly bolted for the door. Yanking it open, he poked his head out to give her a piece of his mind, but the wench was nowhere in sight. Turning his head towards the stairs, a dim light was coming from somewhere below. He knew he shouldn't give a damn, but his curiosity got the best of him. Following the light to the top of the stairs, he saw it was emitting from somewhere in the kitchen. Descending the steps, he approached the kitchen entrance and leaned on the door frame.
Bulma was currently raiding cabinets, searching for the cookie jar. The saiya-jin raised an ebony brow as she shuffled about the kitchen, taking in her bedraggled appearance: her hair resembled a bird's nest and she was only clad in a sleeping tank and some boy shorts. When she found her prize, she was baffled as to why it was empty.
"But she made a whole batch of cookies today," she muttered to herself, "how could they all be gone?"
"Simple," the prince replied, making her spin in surprise, "I ate them."
She stared, bewildered. "You ate them?"
"Yes, Woman, must I repeat myself? They were sitting on the counter when I came by for the midday meal; seeing as there was nothing else prepared to eat, I had to settle for those."
Bulma didn't know whether to be upset or even annoyed; after all, when he came by to complain about lunch, she had told him to help himself out.
"Well, there's no point in getting mad about it. At least I know what happened to them."
She turned her back on him and opened the fridge for the carton of milk, completely unaware of his eyes ravishing her partially clothed figure; it seemed she forgot she was only in her sleepwear.
Vegeta's eyes widened as she bent over to look farther into the fridge. Those shorts were hugging everything and were giving him a great view of her round bottom. A cheek curved and cuffed at the top of each toned thigh, narrowing at the knee to form smooth, shapely legs. He vaguely wondered how it would feel to run his hands up those calves, up those thighs. If he settled himself between them, would they wrap themselves tightly around his waist? Or would they point upwards like a V? It wasn't until she stood straight again that he realized what he was thinking about.
Bulma set the milk on the counter and opened another cupboard to retrieve a glass. As she poured the drink, she noticed Vegeta in the same spot, apparently going through some mental struggle.
Wait…is he blushing?
"So, what are you doing up?" she asked, brushing her thought aside and tilting the glass to her lips.
He blinked, coming back to reality, and crossed his arms.
"Well, for your information, I was sound asleep when I awoke from your blunderous maneuvering in the hall; it sounded like an Oozaru on a rampage for a late night snack. Turns out I was correct."
Bulma rolled her eyes.
"Oh please," she waved her hand, "don't compare me to that great ape thing you saiya-jins transform into. I've seen you, remember? I'm nowhere near as disruptive as you are."
He smirked. Damn right.
"Sorry, though. I didn't mean to wake you. I couldn't sleep."
The prince titled his head in her direction. Did she just apologize?
"I stubbed my toe in the hallway and I didn't realize it made such noise."
"Hn," the prince merely grunted in response and turned his head, trying to keep his eyes off her while she took another sip.
"Mind telling me why you're still parading about partially clothed?" He fixed his sight on the dining area, but from his peripherals, he could see her stiffen as she choked on her milk.
It wasn't until then that Bulma looked down and realized, to her horror, that the prince was right; why did she leave her robe? The kitchen echoed with her coughing fit as she pounded on her chest, struggling to open her constricting airways. Vegeta glanced at her, noting how red her chest was from beating and how buggy her eyes became as she tried to breathe. He would've found it quite comical, actually, if he hadn't noticed her perky breasts heaving with each shuddering breath through the thin fabric of her shirt. When she'd finally calmed down, her eyes were teary and her face was red from blood rush.
"Calm yourself, Woman. Your state of undress is not something to die over."
Bulma could feel the intensity of his gaze. She tried to put as much distance between him and herself by standing behind the island, a pathetic attempt to obscure her lower half from view. The saiya-jin allowed himself a chuckle. There wasn't anything she was hiding that he hadn't already seen, so what was she trying to do?
Bulma knew she was the subject of his amusement, but she stopped herself from lashing out, noting the unfamiliar sound. The few times Vegeta laughed, it was disdainful and cold, like a condescending snob explaining what you already knew. This one was still Vegeta-like, but free of the harsh roughness that usually laced his voice. She blinked. He actually looked…attractive when he laughed like that. Well, he already was attractive, but his face was no longer guarded and free of hostility, making it look softer and more appealing. A small smile graced her features; she decided she liked that look on him.
He should laugh more often.
She drained the rest of her glass and proceeded to wash it in the sink behind her.
When his laughter died down, Vegeta saw her back facing him as she rinsed her cup and found himself wondering what he was still doing there. He'd come to investigate, now he was free to go back to bed. His eyes were roaming her figure. Was it wrong for him to want to wrap his arms around that narrow waist? To spin her around and kiss her senseless? To grip those hips and lift her onto the counter so he could have his way with her? He was disgusted with himself yet again.
Argh! What is wrong with me? How many times is this woman going to get inside my head? I mustn't let her shake my composure!
But Vegeta saw the hungry look in her eye when she saw him leave the shower earlier that evening; he remembered the heated blush creeping down her neck and her lusty gaze when she stared at his bare chest. He even saw the small grin directed at him when he laughed not a moment ago. Call it saiya-jin pride, or the cockiness that came with being a prince, but Vegeta knew he was handsome, someone he knew she couldn't resist if it came down to it. And as much as it unnerved him, it seemed that against his wishes, he was starting to feel the same way towards her. Not that he would ever admit it.
The sound of tinkling glass pulled the prince from his thoughts. Bulma was balancing on her tiptoes to put her glass back in the cupboard, effectively making her derriere bounce with just the slightest of movements. And that's how, for the first time in his life, Vegeta, the Prince of all saiya-jins, gave in.
Damn this resistance to Hell.
Bulma had just closed the cabinet when two strong arms appeared at her sides; large hands latched themselves onto the countertop, effectively trapping her between it and a hard chest. She stiffened at the contact, but didn't move. What the hell is he doing? Heat crept up her neck as Vegeta lightly brushed up against her back, waiting to see if she would resist; when she didn't, he pressed himself flush against her, burying his face in her hair.
Oh Kami, we shouldn't be touching like this!
"Keep using that bubble bath, Woman." She melted at the tenderness of his tone.
"Vegeta…" she breathed.
Bulma ignored her reasoning and leaned back into his body, relaxing to his touch. His hands left the counter to run up and down her sides. He sniffed her hair, eyes fluttering shut as the fragrance of her shampoo overwhelmed him. As he inhaled her scent, his hands gripped her hips firmly and spun her around, eliciting from her a small gasp. He brought a hand up to caress her face. The rough pad of his thumb brushed her bottom lip, coaxing it to slightly fall open. One look in her eyes presented him with a silent invitation, so he tilted her chin up, her lips puckering to meet his halfway. Why he was being so gentle, he didn't know; the prince always took what he wanted without regards to anything, but at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care; she was already giving in.
Bulma had no idea Vegeta could be so...no, romantic wasn't the word. Sensual? Should she even be thinking about this right now? All rational thought was slowly shutting down as she melted into the kiss. It was tender, soft - qualities she didn't know the prince could even possess - but very nice all the same. A warm tongue swiped at her lower lip, pleading to be allowed access. She happily obliged and it delved into the depths of her waiting mouth.
Her arms snaked around his broad shoulders, delicate fingers curling into his hair as their tongues met, circling eachother in a rhythmic dance. Vegeta's arms wrapped themselves around her waist and held her. The dance of their tongues was steadily turning into a fight for dominance and feather light touches were turning into needy gropes as they pressed themselves even closer together.
He dominated the kiss, taking control of her mouth as his hands traveled lower until they cupped around the curve of her bottom. It felt big and round and juicy - everything he knew it would be. Mine. He gave it a firm squeeze, causing her lips to break away and squeak in surprise. He smirked and took the opportunity to brush his lips along the side of her jaw, and down the length of her neck.
Bulma's breath hitched as his teeth lightly grazed the sensitive area where her neck met her shoulder. Feeling her stiffen, Vegeta knew he found a pleasure spot. He licked the area tentatively, his tongue drawing circles on her skin. Then, without warning, he hoisted her up, hips straddling his waist, and set her on the island behind him. Standing inbetween her spread thighs, he resumed his attention to her neck and began to suck mercilessly.
Bulma jerked violently, but his powerful arms held her still. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps and her fingers curled tightly in his hair as her sensitive neck suffered under his relentless mouth. The warmth that was growing in the depths of her belly shot straight to her womanhood, causing her to whimper. Then she let out a moan, a thread-like, needy sound at the back of her throat, as Vegeta bit down on her bruised flesh. He smirked at the sound. Looking up, he saw her face was flushed with want, her breaths short bursts of air on his cheek, a hazy look in her eyes. And that sound she made was music to his ears. He decided he liked it, and wanted to see what other noises she could make. This only made him too aware of how tight his pants felt.
He dipped his head again. The area he'd just been was now red from his ministrations. He issued it one last oral assault and continued to travel further south. He rained open-mouth kisses across her collarbone and his hands rose up to slip under her shirt. Bulma unconsciously leaned into his touch, his warm, calloused fingers sparking electricity under her skin. He kneaded her breasts, each hand massaging one expertly as he drunk in her reaction with delight. She bit her lip, determined not to cry out, but failed miserably when he tweaked her right nipple. It was overwhelming pleasure that added to her desire, stoking the fire in her gut.
Vegeta pinched both nipples this time, the buds puckering as he rolled them between his fingers while fondling her breasts with gentle firmness. Bulma couldn't take the torture and he knew it, but he wanted to take his time and revel in the fact that he was calling the shots. He removed his hands from her shirt and proceeded to lift it over her head, her mounds bouncing free of the fabric and now available for him to ravish. He wasted no time burying his face in her cleavage, and Bulma hissed in pleasurable pain as her breasts were attacked with lips, a tongue and teeth.
The saiya-jin left stinging love bites before taking one in his mouth, giving it his undivided attention, then switching to the other. Bulma was sick with fever, burning desire darkening her sapphire eyes. She wanted him to the point where it ached, and his ministrations were only making her more aware of it. Just then, he pulled away, a nipple caught between his teeth. Bulma cried out, hands flying to grip his shoulders. The swollen nub was released from its captor and Vegeta looked up at her. She hunched over, fingers running through his unruly hair as she caught her breath.
"Damn," she whispered appreciatively in his ear. She knew he was smiling, even if it was a cocky one.
"I don't think we should finish this here." His voice was low and husky and sent shivers down her spine. Before she could answer, he grabbed her discarded shirt and lifted her from the counter. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs instinctively secured themselves around his waist, her ankles locking behind his back. She could feel his arousal through his cotton pants as he effortlessly carried her out of the kitchen and advanced towards the stairs. Reaching the top landing, he approached the first door to his left: his room.
He slipped inside, closing the door with his foot, and strode towards the bed, tossing her shirt aside. Bulma was dropped in an unceremonious heap onto the sheets, her limbs splaying out in all directions, her hair in disarray. Vegeta stood over the bed, thinking how sexy she looked like that. She lay back on her elbows, watching him gaze lustily at her. His arousal was very apparent through his pajamas, but he did nothing about it just yet. She waited eagerly for his next move.
He grabbed at the hem of his shirt to bring it over his head ever so slowly, giving Bulma a chance to appreciate his muscle packed physique. She eyed his torso hungrily, gratefully basking in the sight of it. With his arms raised above his head, his laddered abs flexed upwards, rippling under his bronze skin. The movement was beautiful. Her gaze lowered to his pants. They rode extremely low on his hips, and she could see the shadow where the prominent edge of his hip bone smoothed out to the soft convex of his lower belly. She unconsciously licked her lips. Kami, he's a beautiful man. The prince smirked and climbed onto the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight as he crawled over to her, a predatory look in his eyes.
He sat back on his haunches and gripped her calves, roughly pulling her towards him and knocking her off her elbows. His lips came down to capture hers in a searing kiss, hotter and more passionate than their previous one. His hands rose to her breasts again, Bulma breaking away to moan softly as she arched into his touch. He nipped at her chin and down her throat, sucking at the hollow of her collarbone then proceeding to her chest. He briefly kissed each mound before leaving a trail between them.
His lips felt searing hot on her skin, lighting a flame under it and feeding the inferno between her legs. He kissed his way down her stomach, stopping to briefly tongue her belly button before continuing south. Bulma's breath caught in her throat when his head was in the middle of her thighs, his nose centimeters from her womanhood, his eyes fixed on it.
Vegeta could smell her arousal in front of him. He sniffed, allowing the unique scent to invade his nostrils. There were no words to describe it; he only knew he wanted to see it, needed to see it. Grabbing hold of the offending garment, he tugged the shorts off her hips and tossed them on the floor. His eyes were drawn to the naked woman under him, tracing the flat planes of her stomach, and the narrow line of her waist curving out to the fullness of her hips. She truly was a beauty. His gaze lingered south of her navel at the apex of blue curls, the intriguing scent hitting him full force.
He lightly caressed the folds of her skin, the soft flesh quivering under his touch. It was pale and smooth, adorned with a tuft of soft blue hair. Her lips were glistening with her arousal, the little nub at the top red and engorged. He gently but firmly spread the moist center, exposing the pink insides. Bulma closed her eyes, holding her breath with anticipation. Nothing came. She popped one eye open and glanced down. He was smelling her, breathing her in. His eyelids were heavy as he sniffed her scent; it overwhelmed his senses like a powerful drug and he gripped her thighs tightly as if they were an anchor preventing him from floating away.
Bulma kept her eyes fixed at the man between her legs. He looked buzzed off her essence. He was in this state because of her and it had to be the most erotic thing she had ever seen. She reached down to run a hand through his thick hair, lightly raking her nails along his scalp. Vegeta allowed his eyes to close completely and inhaled again, nearly losing himself.
Her head snapped to attention; he actually said her name.
"Your scent…intoxicates me…" He placed a kiss on the inside of her thigh.
A smile split her face. She had not been expecting that. Before she could ponder it, though, his tongue flicked out to lick a trail down her center.
All coherent thought zipped out of her head as she gasped at the pleasing sensation. He laved at the opening, starting from the bottom up to her clit, his tongue swirling around the bundle of nerves. Bulma bucked off the mattress, but he wrapped his arms around her torso, pinning her in place. Vegeta sucked and licked her pearl, spelling out his name with the flexible muscle. Bulma moaned loudly and fisted her hands in his hair, desperate to hold onto something as he carried out his assault to her girly parts.
She tasted sweet and salty, a pleasing combination the prince couldn't get enough of. He released the sensitive nub and proceeded to probe her entrance with his tongue, inserting it as far as it could go.
"Vegeta…" she breathed, a slender leg rising to dangle over his shoulder as he devoured her. His hands left their place on her stomach to raise her other one. After setting it on his other shoulder, they dug underneath her to cup her ass, raising her hips off the bed to bring her closer to his face.
The feeling strapped Bulma down and sent her on a ride, climbing to unknown heights and crashing back down. She'd never felt a sensation like this before; Yamcha had never opted to do this. But here was the prince, his face buried in her crotch, feasting; giving her pleasure in ways she'd never imagined in her naughtiest daydreams. He was focused, never missing a beat with each swipe of that tongue as it drove itself madly to into her core. Her breath ragged, she squirmed but the saiya-jin held her down; she wasn't going anywhere.
Vegeta's tongue removed itself and firmly stroked her clit while a hand rose to assist him. A finger rubbed and circled the pink flesh, her pussy slick with his saliva. Bulma hummed contentedly at the feeling. In the space of a second, it turned into a strangled cry as he latched his mouth onto her clit, that digit now lodged deep within her. Vegeta sucked furiously, all the while being gentle as his finger probed the depths of her heat. She welcomed the unexpected pleasure, her fists abandoning his hair to claw at the sheets. All she could do was watch her vision spin out of control as he continued to hold her down.
She was tight; her walls constricted around his finger as it curled inside her, and he couldn't help but think of filling her with something far greater. Soon, that digit was joined with another, and the woman's wanton moaning was ricocheting off the walls. She was panting now, the pressure between her legs so intense, she thought she could burst. Vegeta didn't stop; if anything he went faster, driving her further off the edge. She stiffened, then, her walls convulsing around his digits as she came for the first time that night. Her body arched off the bed as the tremors rocked her from the tips of her ears down to her toes, her thighs trembling like Jell-o. When she came down from her climax, she fell limp on the sheets, aftershocks still coursing through her. He released the little nub from his mouth and lapped up that sweet nectar, placing a kiss on her swollen lips while those fingers slowly pulled themselves free. Bulma immediately missed the contact, but bit her lip as she watched him suckle them dry, her juices on his cheeks. That had to be the second most erotic thing she'd ever seen.
Dropping his hand, he observed the effects of his…performance. He smirked at her flushed skin, her chest rising up and down rapidly as her heart tried to pump air back into her lungs. Her nipples were as hard as diamonds and her legs wouldn't stop shaking. She gazed at him through half lidded eyes that widened as she realized he was nowhere near done yet. He got off the bed and began tugging at the drawstrings of his pants, Bulma waiting expectantly. When those pooled at his feet, those fingers attacked the waistband of his boxers.
Bulma's eyes widened as they slipped passed his hips. It was long, thick and smooth; perfection. His engorged manhood stood erect from a patch of dark, coarse hair, an angry red monster bent on doing some damage. He climbed back onto the mattress and crawled over her. It wasn't until that moment that Bulma started to panic. It had been several months since she and Yamcha separated, meaning it had been quite a while since she last had sex. Vegeta's size only made her more nervous; it was like being a virgin all over again.
Her breath quickened as he slowly descended himself down upon her, nudging her thighs apart with his knees. Settling himself between her legs, he placed his arms beside her head as he stretched the entire length of his body on top of hers. His mouth lowered to brush against hers as he slightly rocked his hips, pressing himself against her warmth.
"Vegeta," she tried not to sound alarmed, "I… I haven't…it's been a while…"
His lips skimmed her jaw and found her earlobe. "It will be fine…" He nipped the sensitive flesh with his teeth as he rocked his hips again, the head of his dick now nudging her entrance.
"Vegeta," she tried again. Bulma was terrified; whoever heard of going through this shit twice?
He cut off her plea with a fervent kiss that left her breathless, the distinct taste of her essence on his lips. As he broke away, he silenced her with an intense stare.
Without breaking eye contact, he thrust forward with one swift movement of his hips, stretching her out with his immense size. Bulma threw her head back against the pillow, her mouth open in a silent scream, eyes brimming with tears. She knew it would hurt, but she hadn't anticipated how much; it was like being ripped apart from the inside. She couldn't recall her first time being so painful, but maybe it was because Vegeta was so well endowed; Yamcha wasn't as blessed as the saiya-jin was.
Bulma opened her eyes, aware that the hard body on top of hers was stock still. Vegeta hovered over her, his features etched into a pained expression.
"Shit…" he groaned.
He was desperately trying to allow her some time to adjust to him; it took every ounce of his being just to refrain from pounding away and killing the poor woman. He now understood her incessant blabbering a few moments before; DAMN she was tight.
As he gained his bearings, he glanced below, studying her face. She was in pain, no doubt, trying to calm herself by steadying her breathing. He took little notice of her nails raking angry red tracks into his biceps, or the way her thighs clenched tightly around his hips; considering who he was, it's not like it hurt. Her watery blue eyes looked as clear as the sky on a cloudless day. His lips brushed her cheeks, kissing her tears away. Feeling he'd allowed her enough time, he started to move slowly.
Bulma gasped as he pushed his entire length within her, filling her completely as the head brushed her special spot. The stabbing pain quickly started to ebb away, becoming a dull ache then shocks of pleasure. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she relaxed her grip on his arms, letting her head fall back on the pillow to gaze up at him. His lips were slightly parted, beads of sweat forming at his temples as their eyes locked. Her skin was flushed and her lips were swollen from kissing as cerulean orbs met onyx ones.
She couldn't help herself from cupping his face and pulling him down for another mind blowing kiss. When they pulled away, she let out a moan, tilting her head back in the throes of passion. She looked down at their joined pelvises, entranced by the sight of him sliding in and out of her tightness. That had to be the third most erotic thing she'd ever seen, and his movements weren't even fast.
Vegeta started to build a steady rhythm, the slick sounds of flesh sliding against slick flesh as their bodies moved in sync with eachother. With each thrust, Bulma countered his movements with one of her own, their skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat. Her fingers clutched at his muscled back, dipping into the hollows of his ribs and tracing the contours of his spine as he drove his hips home repeatedly.
Vegeta's face was buried in the crook of her neck, his mouth working magic on her sensitive skin. Bulma moaned blissfully in his ear as her neck suffered under his teeth and she could feel his lips curve into a smirk. The combined sensations of his mouth on her and being hit from below was overwhelming; he stimulated her spots nonstop, jolts of pleasure surging through her every time. But it still wasn't enough. For whatever reason, Vegeta was being nice, and he didn't do nice. It may have felt good, but she frankly didn't like it and knew she would enjoy his primal side a lot more.
"Vegeta," she said with as much firmness she could muster.
The man on top of her ceased his movements and pulled his head away to glance down at her, looking her straight in the eye.
"What is it now, Woman?"
"Stop holding back."
His expression didn't change as he processed her request.
Vegeta knew better than to underestimate the woman's intelligence. She'd seen him fight countless times before, and she'd grown acquainted with the rough nature of his personality; everything Vegeta did was raw, hardcore and one hundred percent, so unlike this gentleness. She wanted to be handled like a fucking tigress, not a newborn kitten!
Closing his eyes, he leaned forward and touched his forehead with hers. "You should be careful what you wish for, Woman," he said, a finger tracing the areola of her left breast. "You just might get what you want." He claimed her lips in a fierce kiss. Before she could realize he had pulled away, her legs were hiked up on his arms, the backs of her knees hooking around his elbows, and he began stroking with new vigor.
Bulma gasped as he nearly folded her in half. She watched her knees bend over his thick arms, the new angle giving him deeper access to her heat and making him groan. His movements were faster, more forceful. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he angled his hips precisely to hit that spot that made her cry out, a sound that he had quickly grown addicted to. Her thighs trembled under the severity of his thrusts, her hips sinking deeper into the mattress as he pummeled her.
Then, without warning, he rolled over, taking Bulma with him; it was so fast, she didn't even notice until the cold air hit her back. However, somewhere during the process, they became disconnected, leaving Bulma on her hands and knees above him, feeling extremely empty. Her thighs trembled violently under her weight, and Vegeta rubbed them in an attempt to still her.
Bulma stiffened when she was teased with the head of his length; he rubbed it back and forth against her slit, their fluids mingling and coating him.
"You want this?"
She wanted to scream YES! more than anything in the world, but she was incapable of speech and could only moan in response to his question, biting at her lip whenever the head touched her clit. Vegeta smirked as his eyes traveled between the look on her face and the sight at his eye level. He gripped her hips and let himself partially slide inside her, only to quickly slip out again. Her whole body was quivering above him, and it looked like her arms would give out underneath her.
"You want this?" he repeated, emphasizing the question as two fingers lightly pinched that sensitive little nub.
Bulma collapsed onto his chest, her hips still raised over his waiting shaft. She was shaking from the strain of her resistance and she ached for him to fill her again, make her whole; she couldn't take it anymore, but a prideful woman like herself wouldn't beg.
She raised her head and looked up at his face. He was sporting a cocky grin, apparently pleased with himself for whatever he had achieved.
Smug alien bastard.
"You're such a perv," she muttered as she slid her hips back and sank down on him, throwing her head back as he filled her again. Vegeta's reply died on his lips as he was once again surrounded by her heat. As her body engulfed him, he tried to anchor himself, his fingers gripping her waist so tightly, they were sure to leave bruises by the end of the night. Bulma grit her teeth as his fingers dimpled her skin, her palms flat on his chest to support herself. After willing her thighs to stop shaking, she started to move.
Her hips rocked back and came forward to join them again and again, Vegeta's hands travelling behind to cup her cheeks and hold her to him. A growl wrangled itself from somewhere out of his chest, a deep rumbling reverberating through his torso. She rose and fell at a steady pace, his hips rolling to meet hers every time, driving himself deeper. Gradually, he started taking control of her movements; his large hands suddenly started rocking her ass, using it to push her back and forth on top of him as her hair bobbed like the fluctuating current of a riptide.
"Vegeta…" she whimpered as the prince picked up speed and depth from underneath her. Then unexpectedly, Bulma was grabbed by the waist and rolled over again, a soft gasp of surprise twisting from her lips. The prince was on top once more, and before she could comprehend her new position, the hands on her waist flipped her onto her stomach.
"Wha-" she was cut off by her own scream as she was rammed from behind. Vegeta's hands pressed her down to support himself, his weight pinning her petite frame to the mattress with her hips raised to meet him. Her screams bounced off the walls and she was sure they rang throughout the entire house.
I hope Mom doesn't wake up to come invest- she bit her lip as another one tried to escape her throat. Vegeta noticed, and slammed himself harder, knowing full well she wouldn't be able to hold herself back like that again; after all, the sounds only encouraged him as he focused on what he was doing. He looked down at the mayhem he was causing and smirked at the sight of her round, full ass rocking back and forth from his movements, her skin firmly smacking his hard stomach.
In an attempt to muffle her vocals, Bulma's mouth latched itself onto a pillow and refused let go. This was what she had been looking forward to: being taken face down, ass up by a rough man who would show no mercy. Vegeta was clearly redefining the word stroke; he was fucking her in a demanding way becoming of a power-hungry prince and she loved it. Never in her life had she ever thought she'd willingly submit like this, but if Vegeta could truly make it feel this good, she'd gladly let him dominate her everyday for the rest of her life. Of course, her sex-addled brain was thinking for her; she couldn't bring herself to reason properly and it was extremely easy to say it hardly mattered at the moment.
The both of them were now drenched in sweat, the sheets damp from their exertion. All it took was Vegeta's hips to try a different angle to reach point zero; she abruptly arched off the bed, her back dipping dangerously low as the pitch of her screams reached a whole new level. Intrigued by his discovery, Vegeta did it one more time before bringing his hips to a halt.
Bulma lay panting underneath him, her matted blue hair clinging to her skin, her entire body quivering from his aggression. Huh? She tried turning her head, but was unable to since he was still pinning her down. She looked down in front of her, her confusion directed at the drool-soaked pillow. Why did he stop? He had just found that very special spot! He was still inside her, but she couldn't understand why he ceased his movements. Oh, how she wanted him to move! Just the thought was enough to make her cry.
"Vegeta…?" her voice was raspy and tinged with uncertainty.
Vegeta released her back from his grip and set his hands on either side of her. Lowering his body on top of hers, he stretched himself out until he was able to rest his chin on her shoulder.
"What is it?" his warm breath coated his husky voice as it caressed her ear and he could feel her spine tingle underneath him.
Her eyes closed as she leaned into his touch. "I want it…"
"What do you want?" he inquired, dipping his tongue into the shell of her ear.
"You," she breathed.
Vegeta smirked. He now knew the angle that drove her crazy, but he wanted her to beg for it. He wouldn't comply until she did, but Kami knew how fucking hard it was to restrain himself and keep completely still.
"What do you want from me?" he pressed.
Bulma's lip trembled and her nostrils flared in frustration. He's getting off on this! Her brain may have been able to process this and she may have been angry at the fact, but she still wasn't in her right state of mind. Why was he torturing her like this?
"Tell me what you want," he said. "Tell me…" He wanted to hear her say it.
"Please…" she tried moving her hips back on him, but his weight prevented her from doing so.
He chuckled inwardly. "Please what, Woman?" he tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. A whimper escaped her lips and he rejoiced in the fact that he had so much control over her.
Then she did the unexpected: she clenched around him, causing him to almost lose his resolve.
To make sure she couldn't tempt him again, he withdrew himself from her heat, still pinning her down to the mattress. This time, Bulma almost did cry; the emptiness was almost too much to bare.
"Ve...Vegeta! Please!" it came out as a mewl. In her right state of mind, she would never have allowed herself to sink so low, especially for something like this, but she was so far gone now, she couldn't bring herself to care. She needed this, and damn it, if he didn't give it to her, she would die.
"Please what?" he repeated, his voice almost sensual. He released her ear and his lips latched onto that sensitive spot on her neck. That was all it took for Bulma to give in and lose what little reserve she had left.
"Take me, Vegeta! Take me hard!" That was all the incentive he needed.
Raising himself once more, he penetrated her with a violent, new rhythm, drilling that new spot to make sure she couldn't see straight.
"N-Nggh-ahhh! Mooore!" Bulma's knuckles were white as she fisted the sheets, nearly on the verge of ripping them as he beat her up.
The sensation was blinding, the pleasure white hot as it seeped from her core and into her belly. His control was epic; it was like he was running on a whole new energy, as if they were just now starting.
Vegeta raised himself even more until he was sitting back on his heels. He pulled Bulma into his lap and took her from underneath. Playing with her clit, he stroked her slowly and deeply in a torturous way that nearly had her sobbing. He bit into her shoulder, grunting as she squeezed around him again; if she kept that up, he had no idea how much longer he would last. After struggling to keep her head up, she eventually gave up and allowed it to rest on his shoulder, her damp locks tumbling down his back.
They kneeled like that, grinding against eachother for a few moments before Vegeta lifted her off of him and dragged her to her feet. He caught her around her thighs as her knees buckled and hoisted her onto his hips, his feet moving towards the nearest wall. Bulma grunted as her back came in contact with the plaster and couldn't stop her head from slamming against it as he dove in again. Her arms clung desperately to his neck while he held her thighs apart, her legs too weak to wrap around his waist and give her leverage.
"Ooh… g-give it to me…please!"
Vegeta grunted and buried his face in the crook of her neck as he complied. The way the woman begged was driving him wild and he picked up a speed incapable of any normal human. He looked down where they were joined and unconsciously licked his lips at the sight. Her pussy was now swollen and gushing, her fluids coating his member and both their stomachs as he plowed in and out. He relished the firm "smack!"s of their slick bodies as their pelvises met, her vocals echoing throughout the room and her facial expressions as he gave her pleasure. Her hair stuck to her forehead, beads of sweat trickling down her neck. Her eyes were half closed and her lips parted slightly as she greedily took what he gave, teetering on the edge as her swollen clit rubbed against his hard stomach.
Oh, Kami, please…just a little more… her eyes begged him.
He wanted his name on her lips as he sent her over and the way her grip was tightening told him he wouldn't have to wait long. Her eyes widened as the sensation overwhelmed her. Everything spun in an array of bright colors as her vision swam out of control. Then everything clenched and released, black dots dancing behind her eyeballs as she was sent over the edge.
"VUH-GEE-TAHH!" she screamed in pure ecstasy.
He may have been a prince, but he had never felt like a god before.
A throaty groan escaped him as he watched her eyes roll back, her velvety walls convulsing around him. Damn…so…fucking tight…And he lost it. The saiya-jin's primal instincts took over as his hips assumed a mind of their own and went berserk. Bulma was too weak to even moan anymore; all that escaped her were breathless gasps as the prince pushed towards his own release. She could feel him pulsing as he hit her cervix with each stroke. Then she felt him tense, his entire body going rigid as he reached his pinnacle. Vegeta bit down hard into her shoulder as he emptied himself within her and her thighs twitched as she felt his hot seed shoot up her core.
The room was quiet, save for the sound of their heavy breathing. They allowed themselves to come down from their highs, slumping against the wall for a few moments. He hissed as he gently withdrew, a soft "plop!" as his hypersensitive member dislodged itself, causing Bulma to whimper. When Vegeta's brain figured out how to move his legs, he tightened his grip on his limp partner and stumbled to the bed where they both fell in a tangled heap on the sheets, the prince collapsing on top of her.
Bulma was so sated, she couldn't bring herself to care if she'd ever stand again, let alone form a coherent thought. She felt like a puddle of goo in her own skin and was perfectly content with just lying there, not that she would've been able to do otherwise.
Vegeta was completely spent, every ounce of energy seeped from his body. The heaving of his chest started to slow as his heart rate leveled out, his head nestled in the crook of her neck. When he found to strength to move, he rolled onto his side and glanced at Bulma. He smirked. A surge of male pride ran through him at the sight of her: her blue hair was a tangled mess, she was as flushed as ever, and it appeared she was battling just to keep her eyes open. His gaze traveled further down.
Her womanhood was red, quivering from the recent abuse and her thighs twitched every couple seconds. He raised himself up and crawled over for a closer look. Her lips were so swollen, they looked like they were pouting and trying to earn his sympathy. She was running like a river, her essence now mixed with his forming an unidentifiable substance that was the oozing, hard evidence of their activities.
Two idle fingers reached out to touch the wet flesh, gently rubbing it into the sensitive hole. He was entranced; never had he seen such a sight. He decided this was for his eyes only, and no one else's, therefore claiming her as his to ravish and do with as he pleased. After what he gave her tonight, he highly doubted she'd object to that. Sucking his digits off, he lay back down beside the immobile woman.
"Jerk," she croaked. "I can't even move." It came out as a hoarse whisper, her eyes blue slits as she turned her head to address him. Damn, I'm gonna be sore tomorrow.
An amused smirk presented itself on his face, his lip curling enough for her to glimpse his pearly whites and slightly sharper than human canines. "Well, Woman, I don't recall you complaining; you were actually begging for it. Besides, this jerk just solved your sleeping problem."
Her brow furrowed. "What sleeping problem?"
He made a noise between a scoff and a chuckle. He blew her mind to the point she forgot why she was downstairs in the first place!
"Forget it. It hardly matters anymore."
He got off the bed and strode towards the door, Bulma's eyes on his naked form as he exited the room. She frowned.
Stupid males and their stupid penises! How are they able to strut around, perfectly fine in all their glory after mind blowing sex when I can't even feel anything?
Her heart went out to all the women like her who had to endure the consequences inflicted by sex gods.
Suddenly, she cracked a grin. Looks like he took me to Namek and beyond.
The sound of the toilet flushing and the sink alerted her attention to the hallway and she immediately knew where Vegeta had disappeared to. While it was completely normal to have that urge afterwards, the thought of Vegeta standing over a toilet, handling his business was simply hilarious. She snickered and rolled onto her side, burying her face into a pillow. It smelled faintly of spicy cinnamon and his musk, a rather appealing scent that she was quickly starting to like. Why was he so damn sexy? At that moment, she heard his footsteps as he reentered the room.
Her eyelids were getting heavier as sleep was finally starting to tug at her. Vegeta could sense her breathing rate slow and wasn't surprised to find her slumbering by the time he rejoined her on the bed. He noted her relaxed features as she slept, raising a hand to tuck away a stray lock of blue before he could stop himself.
What's happening to me?
Regardless of his thoughts, he continued to gaze at her as she cuddled his pillow. He couldn't help another smirk at the thought that he was the reason she would now get a good night's sleep. It had nothing to do with him caring about her; it was simply another boost to his ego, at least that's what he told himself. Starting to feel the drowsiness overcome him as well, he pulled the sheets over them and lay back next to her. He would allow her to sleep with him for this one night; she was obviously unable to make it back to her room, and he was only too tired to carry her back himself.
His eyes burned as he struggled to open them.
What the fuck is that damn light?
That bright ass ball of fire they called the sun was emitting rays that were currently seeping into his room through the blinds and annoying the hell out of him. He growled as he hurled a pillow into the direction of the offending light, only to become infuriated as his attack had no effect on his enemy.
"Argh!" he grunted, and brought another pillow over his head. About 7 seconds went by before he shot from the mattress, sheets and pillows showering in every which direction as he stumbled to the window.
The hell? What time is it?
He whirled around and hurried to his nightstand where his alarm clock announced it was 10:32 AM.
What the-? I should be training right now! How could I have overslept?
It wasn't until that moment that Vegeta noticed he was naked. Then the memories of the previous night flooded back to him. He had fallen asleep with the woman and failed to set his alarm. He glanced at the bed, quickly growing angry as he pieced together the horrible crime she had committed.
She woke and left me to sleep? Cursed woman!
As he rummaged around for his infamous spandex, he gleefully thought of a million ways to make her pay.
She knows how my training exceeds the importance of anything else! After giving her the best night of her life, this is the thanks I get? Ungrateful, useless baka!
He plopped himself down on the bed. As he pulled on his socks, he noticed a little gift bag sitting next to his clock. Curious as to what it was, he reached over for it. The bag was light yellow with an assortment of tissue paper doing a good job at concealing whatever was inside. Already in a foul mood, he carelessly tore the thing open and dumped its contents onto the carpet.
Lying amongst the flimsy colored paper were two plastic bottles.
What is this?
He stooped over and picked them up. He closely inspected the containers, one in each of his hands. The solutions were different colors, one deep sea blue, and the other forest green. Now that he had a good look at them, it wasn't hard to put two and two together. They were the same shape as Bulma's bubble bath, and even though he couldn't read what they said, the labels were identical to the one on hers.
He twisted the cap off the blue one and held it to his nose. The scent was cool and refreshing – like rain; masculine; so unlike the fruity, sweet fragrance of the woman's soap. Though something as trivial as shower soap was hardly something he'd be elated about, it was pleasing to say the least.
Maybe she's not so useless after all.
Useless or not, she was still the reason why he wasn't training.
As he stuffed his feet into his tennis shoes, the perfect idea came to him: it starred his naked, wet form and featured the shower gel in his grasp. If he was precise, they would have a situation similar to what happened the night prior. She wouldn't even see it coming! For a split second, he briefly wondered if she could handle him; being horny and angry only spiked his performance to a whole new level that had everything to do with the true meaning of 'saiya-jin'. A smirk set on his face, he stepped out into the hallway as he praised himself for his genius.
He'd show her. He'd make her pay for this horrible act against him, this act of evil! Oh, he could picture her face as she came to her demise!
He laughed out loud as he descended the stairs, not caring who was around to hear him.
Well maybe not demise, but she'd definitely have a certain downfall. I mean, if you can call it that.
Maybe now he'd have control of the situation.
Ka-baam. Ohh, he said the situation. I'm not too proud of the ending, but ehhh...it's okay, right? When I was writing about the mechanics of her fixing the GR && her invention, please note I had NO idea what I was talking about; I had to read other fanfics to get one and I just wrote what looked right [so please forgive me!] And just so you know, I was totally thinking of Jersey Shore when I wrote that last line lmaoo. Review! xDD