#i like the idea of spike being mildly irritated at it like a woman being bothered by masculine terms treated as gender neutral

[psychosistr]

Green-Eyed Monsters- Chapter 6

Summary: On their way home, Steelbeak gets a lecture about why you shouldn’t knowingly drink spiked beverages and Dominic gets an embarrassing answer to a question he didn’t even think to ask...as well as more questions that he still needs answered..

Notes: Just a little interlude before we get into the emotional reconciliation of the final chapter.

-First Chapter-

“-most stupid, idiotic ideas you’ve EVER had!” Dominic’s voice was loud enough to be heard clearly over the roar of the flashy car’s powerful engine and the barely-audible music coming from the radio, even from outside the vehicle. “Why in the world would you knowingly drink not just one, but SEVERAL cocktails laced with who-knows-what?! It could have been arsenic, for all you knew!”

While the lecture certainly sounded harsh, in Dominic’s defense, he’d been quietly seething and biting his tongue for hours before finally getting to unleash the full brunt of his accumulated frustration from the evening’s events. After that two-faced femme-fatale had left them to deal with escaping on their own, the deadly duo had found themselves quite busy escaping the mansion (with the assistance of Emelia’s mattress that they’d thrown out the window to cushion their fall so they could jump from the upper floor more safely), sneaking past security, and speeding off in their getaway-car before security could close off the property. Once they’d escaped, the loon’s top priority had been getting medical attention for his partner, so he’d pushed aside his lingering irritation until one of FOWL’s doctors had cleared Steelbeak and given them the green-light to go home together (the metal-mouthed fowl would be dizzy, nauseous, and possibly have some memory loss the next day, but seemed like he’d recover with some bed rest and medicine provided by the doctor).

Now that they were heading home, however, now he had a perfect opportunity to unleash the rant that had been building since they’d left the mansion.

“Didn’t taste like almonds..” Steelbeak, currently seated in the passenger’s seat of his Lincoln Continental and leaning against the door so he could get the full benefit of the air coming in through the open window, seemed either too out of it, too bored, or too much of both to really be bothered by the volume of his partner’s voice. “Sides, I’ve had worse than a little rope slipped in my drink……give the guy makin’ ‘em some credit for waitin’ ‘til I ordered thicker drinks t’ start goin’ heavier with the pills- couldn’t see ‘em in those..”

The loon’s eyebrow twitched in agitation and he was fairly certain that the scowl on his face would become permanent at this rate. “Here’s a thought: How about NOT showing admiration towards the people who try to drug and murder you? It’s a novel concept, I know, but I think you’d benefit from it!”

Steelbeak’s eyes did their best attempt to roll upon hearing the other man’s sarcastic tone, but they only made it about halfway before giving up and closing. “Never said I admired ‘im…just sayin’ the guy knew what he was doin’…” A quiet groan rumbled in his chest as he rubbed his head, the dizziness still a prevalent symptom he was combating. “You’re makin’ this way bigger than it needs t’ be..ain’t like nothin’ happened-”

Successfully rolling his own red eyes, the darker fowl tried to continue. “Because-”

“-‘cause you were watchin’ out for me.” It was hard to tell if the slightly less coherent man actually knew what the loon was about to say or if he’d been in the middle of saying it to begin with. Either way, his partner let him continue explaining himself; if nothing else, it gave his throat a break and allowed him to prepare for the next round of ranting. “You were watchin’ me like a hawk all night…didn’ really have a way t’ avoid drinkin’ it without lettin’……whatever ‘er name was-”

“Emelia.” Dominic felt a small swell of delight in hearing that the lighter bird couldn’t even remember that conniving carnivore’s name, but he didn’t allow it to show as he kept his eyes on the road and his scowl firmly in place.

“Yeah..her…” Steelbeak gave a slight nod, but couldn’t be bothered to repeat the word. “Couldn’t get outta drinkin’ it without her knowin’ I was ont’ her……but, figured you were watchin’ an’ you’d follow me…” Dark grey eyes finally opened half way, his previous wave of dizziness subsiding for the moment. “Nothin’ else, figured Mara’d follow me like in Rio an’ you’d go after her..”

Whatever slight bit of improvement Dominic’s mood had taken was stripped away at the mere mention of that aggravating double-agent. “Oh, so you were expecting HER to rescue you? Well then, maybe I should have just let you two have your fun since you clearly enjoyed her company so much.”

“Ha! I trust that broad ‘bout as far as she can throw me.” Dark grey eyes glanced at the tight grip the other man had on the steering wheel. “Don’t get why you’re so worked up ‘bout ‘er…she’s not THAT bad…”

Red eyes gave a brief, irritated roll before focusing on the road once more. “Oh, wow, I wonder how I could possibly have a problem with some woman dancing and flirting with my partner all night.” Before he could say anything else on the matter, Dominic was startled when said partner started to laugh hysterically. Caught somewhere between insulted and mildly concerned- he wasn’t sure if this may have been a side-effect of the drugs still affecting Steelbeak’s mood and mental stability- the loon pondered the idea of pulling over to either check on the other man’s health or possibly slap him, depending on what the situation called for.

“You think she was FLIRTIN’ with me?!” The rooster managed to gasp out between fits of laughter, holding his sides as if in pain from the hilarity of the situation. That annoyingly nasal laugh of his was all that could be heard for a solid minute, acting as if this was the funniest thing he’d heard in ages. Just as Dominic was ready to pull the car over and give the overly-gleeful fowl a piece of his mind, Steelbeak managed to get a full sentence out that took him a moment to decipher: “Deedee, she’s ‘bout as interested in me, as you’d be in her.”

When the weight of those words finally sunk in, Dominic felt like he would have smacked himself in the forehead if both hands weren’t still tightly gripping the steering wheel.

A lesbian.

He’d spent a good portion of the evening feeling one-upped and threatened by a lesbian.

Face burning with shame beneath his dark feathers, the aquatic avian decided to deflect his embarrassment with a mask of frustration (not that it was that hard to pull off given their earlier conversation). “Why didn’t you just tell me that from the beginning?”

Having finally gotten over his laughing fit but still sporting an amused grin, Steelbeak slumped back down against the passenger-side door with a shrug. “Ya didn’t ask.” He covered his mouth around a yawn, his previous bout of activity apparently tiring him out again.

“I shouldn’t have to ask.” Dominic shook his head, sparing a less harsh look at the lighter fowl once they’d reached a stop light. “You need to give me any intel that could be vital to our mission. I need to know these things- we’re partners.”

In the few seconds his red eyes glanced away to make sure the light hadn’t changed color, the sharpshooter missed the expression that accompanied Steelbeak’s quiet, slightly disappointed tone of voice. “Is that all we are…?” By the time he looked back to ask for clarification, Dominic saw the other’s dark eyes had closed and he was sound asleep.

Left confused and uncertain once again about Steelbeak’s apparent displeasure regarding their partnership, Dominic sighed and swallowed his words for the time being. They’d have to talk about this when the other man WASN’T recovering from an overdose of mind-altering substances.

<--Previous Chapter Next Chapter-->

End Notes: Short chapter is short, sorry ^.^” Despite its shortness, I hope you guys still enjoyed the little moments of Domino getting to lecture Steelbeak before feeling embarrassed of his own misplaced jealousy xD

[anika-ann]

Hands Too Cold, but Heart of Gold - Pt.5

The Aftermath

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, Matt Murdock x reader (no SR x MM x r)

Word count: 2800

Summary: Avenger!reader AU, love triangle. Some things get messy and some are cleared out; that tends to happen when you talk things through...and you’re not entirely honest. Or are you?

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, injury, medical procedures and seizure, hospitals, tooth-rotting fluff

Story Mastelist

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The first thing you were sure of was that life sucked. It was truly the very first thought that popped up in your mind.

Before thoughts, there had been only your brain rebooting, already overwhelmed with receiving signals of dull pain from different parts of your body, which had resulted in one messy signal alerting you your whole body ached; hence the original thought.

“Jesus shit,” somehow escaped your lips without you being in control, but the moment you got a hold of them, you were tempted to say it again.

A noise near your head startled you – rustling and an unpleasant squeak, soon followed by a male voice.

“You’re awake. Hey,” he whispered, sounding delighted. Probably. You were still a bit to groggy to recognize that the emotion.

You slowly opened your eyes, figuring out how to turn your head to the source of the voice – as you evaluated before –, a man. You squinted at the figure wearing black sneakers and a light blue shirt with no tie. You finally examined his face and— and realized you had no idea who he was. His brown irises felt a little familiar – a memory (a dream?) of snowy winter hit you, warm brown eyes ensuring you, Gerda, that you would be okay. Other than that, your memory was blank – you had no clue who the brunet was.

“I’m… sorry. Do I— do I know you?” you asked shyly, slightly embarrassed. Did you have amnesia? Was he your fiancée or something? Was this a stupid rom-com?

The stranger smiled inconspicuously and went to help you as you tried to straighten in your bed – and whoa, okay, OUCH, not so great idea.

“You shouldn’t move too much. You have a fair share of stitches,” he announced, seemingly worried about you. His eyes watched you almost absently, focusing somewhere around your chin. Okay, this was getting weird. He didn’t answer the question. “And my name is Matt.”

Your heart stopped until it kicked in again and started sprinting. You couldn’t recall knowing any Matt unless knowing who Matt Damon was counted. Shit.

His brows furrowed. “But you wouldn’t know that. You know me as Daredevil.”

You lips parted, your brain finally catching up with the events.

Mission. Kidnapping. Daredevil. Steve.

“Steve,” you breathed, horrible realization striking you. “Is Steve okay? Where is he? Why am I in a hospital— no forget that one, tell me about Steve.”

The man carefully touched your arm that had found its way from under the covers as you had tried to sit up again. He smiled mildly.

“He’s okay, Gerda. He’s down the hall. He woke up yesterday and apart from being worn to a bone, he seems fine.”

You took a deep breath, your ribs hurting like hell at the action, but the feeling of relief was so overwhelming you didn’t care.

“Oh thank god-“

“Thank you. You saved him,” he corrected you gently and you were very much not ready for the rush of anger into your veins, suddenly remembering very clearly it wasn’t the truth.

Daredevil must have picked up on that, because his smile faltered.

“Really? Good for me, ‘cause I remember someone stopping me,” you hissed like a cat, climbing up into a sitting position, biting your cheek at the pain that shot up from the base of your fucking spine to its tip. Christ. You distantly remembered wanting to stop the person who had pulled you away, but he seemed just fine now, so you didn’t care.

“I didn’t really have another option. Your own body was shutting down. The device under your ribs short-circuited, unable to bare the intensity of your powers. You almost killed yourself.”

You froze at the revelation.

Oh. Oh. Fuck. That was… not what you expected to hear from the guy. The fact he couldn’t even look into your eyes when telling you that was kinda irritating though. He continued.

“I know you’re mad and I’m sorry. But I had to believe he would make it with what you had done so far. I… know it wasn’t my choice to make. Maybe it wasn’t Captain Rogers’ either, but I was sure he wouldn’t wish for you endanger your life for his sake. We both decided to save you – not that anyone else tried to stop me.”

You felt the pools of energy settling in your muscles, your rapidly beating heart quickly waking your body up properly – the fact that with the more he said the more your adrenalin was spiking probably helped. You understood. You understood pretty well.

You stared into his eyes murderously and suddenly realized why he couldn’t reciprocate the gesture. He was blind. You spent about two seconds being overwhelmed by that big revelation before coming to conclusion that it was the last thing that bothered you right now.

“You’re right,” you whispered, clearing your throat so your voice wouldn’t sound so pathetically weak. “You’re goddamn right it wasn’t your choice.” And it sure as hell wasn’t your place to assume what Steve would want.

You clenched your teeth as you swung your legs over the edge of your bed.

“You really shouldn’t get-“

“Yeah, I don’t care,” you shot back, ignoring the pleading and regretful eyes almost watching you. Blind. Duh. Talk about surprises.

“Look-“

“No, you look, Matt. You joining the mission? It was nice. Thanks for the assist. But you were a complete stranger and you had no fucking right to make a decision like that. I don’t care if we were paired or something, I’m sure you understand prioritization. Steve? He’s Captain freaking America. He’s at the top of the priority list. And not that it’s any of your business, but he’s also at the top of my list. And it was not your call to stop me just because your super-senses sniffed I was passing out or whatever,” you paused, catching you breath.

You pushed yourself up with a whimper, hoping your feet would hold you. His arms went to support you, possibly recognizing he had no chance – or right – to stop you. At least he was catching up fast. Not that it mollified you.

You slapped his hands away as soon as you felt at least a little steady on your feet. He quickly retreated, a shadow of hurt in his eyes.

“I’m gonna see him now and when I’m back here, I would really appreciate if you were gone.” Yeah, okay, now he definitely seemed wounded. You tried to shush the voice of sympathy whispering in your head. “It was good to meet you, Devil. But once was enough.”

You gritted your teeth and shuffled to the door, taking as shallow breaths as you could. Everything, fucking everything hurt.

Daredevil was silent, until he wasn’t.

“You love him,” he whispered, his voice heavy with something that made your heart skip a beat.

You turned back to the man who had given up trying to stop you and just stood in the middle of your room, watching you. Once again, you didn’t see how that was any of his business, but you had no reason to lie.

“You bet your ass I do. I told you – he’s family.”

And with those words, you reached for the handle and stumbled out of your hospital room. You looked around, searching for clues. Daredevil had said Steve was down the hall – which way down the hall? You were pretty much in the middle.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, half-tempted to turn around and ask him for clarification.

Instead, you closed the door cowardly and started walking where the hall seemed less busy. Steve would be there, right?

A woman that was definitely giving away a nurse vibe noticed you and sized you up in horror. Yeah, okay, you got it, you looked terrible, you had a fucking hospital gown and thank god, some underwear and you were supporting yourself onto a wall. Yeah, you were sure you looked peachy.

“Madam, I don’t-“

“Why don’t you tell me where I can find Captain Rogers?” you offered, attempting your best smile, probably failing epically. “I would really like to see him now.”

“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” she shrieked and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know. But given how far I’ve got, it would be mean to drag me back without my reward, wouldn’t it?”

The nurse eyed you, her glare saying ‘I am so fired for this’, but she actually approached you, supporting some of your weight and led you to a door guarded by two soldiers. Of course. You should have figured – and noticed them in the first place; you were in a truly crappy shape if you missed them.

She knocked and you gestured at her that you could make the rest of your way alone. The soldiers shot you a strange look, but you were used to that.

You entered the room, your gaze immediately landing on the lying figure. He was squinting at you sleepily, the part of his bed under his torso and head slightly raised.

You smiled widely. He was awake. He was alive.

“Snowflake?” he mumbled and you reached for the nearest chair to support yourself as your knees suddenly felt even weaker.

“Hey, Steve,” you whispered back, your voice too raspy and heavy with emotion.

“What are you-“ He blinked his eyes wide open, straightening on the bed with surprising speed. He seemed perfectly awake now. “Holy hell, Snowflake, what are you doing here?! You should be in bed!”

“Didn’t sit with me well.”

His bright eyes watched you in horror as you shuffled to his bed, falling heavily on the chair next to it with a hiss.

“Also, you cursed, Cap.”

“You-“

You took his hand without permission, resting your forehead against his shoulder, hearing and feeling his sharp intake of breath. His free arm embraced you resignedly, pulling you closer, so you assumed you were doing okay with being affectionate. You barely registered you started crying, too busy with supressing the pain caused by moving around – Steve’s presence helped with that.

“What do I do with you? You’re terrible at following orders lately,” he whispered, his lips in your hair. You snuggled to him completely, as much as your positions allowed you.

“You can ground me. I will happily sit at home for a while.”

His arm caressed your back at the word ‘home’ – wary of touching your spine as if he knew it hurt – and a pool of warmth blossomed around your heart.

“How do you feel, Snowflake?”

“How do you?” you murmured back, soaking his gown wet with your tears.

God, you loved his strong arm around you. His chest rising periodically. His heart beating strongly against your cheek.

“I got my blood cleaned. You spend hours in surgery having your body cut open in several places. I think my question needs to be answered first.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You fried the device. You were lucky Tony had one to replace it,” Steve whispered, his voice shaking inconspicuously. “Two days after the first surgery, Tony added a fail-safe. The doctors implanted a new part into your spine – the next time you’ll reach your limit, it will just shut your powers down.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you retreated quickly. “Are you kidding me? What the hell?!”

What the fuck– how did they dare to do something like that? Something restricting your powers?! Now? Now, when you finally did some good with them? They could have blocked them completely then!

“It’s for your own safety, Snowflake,” he explained gently, seeing you were utterly pissed. His blue eyes were soft, glimmering with sadness. “You almost died. You need to realize that-”

“I don’t care!”

You covered your mouth the second after the words left your lips. Steve’s gaze hardened.

“Well, I do. While I didn’t get a say in that one, the others did and made the right choice. Believe it or not, we all care. I’m— Snowflake, I’m so grateful for what you did. I am. But…” he exhaled shakily, looking away before locking his eyes with yours, not allowing you to escape the intensity of his gaze. “…but when I woke up and you were just finishing your second surgery and I heard about everything what happened… and I imagined what could have happened… Snowflake, you know how much I care about you. I don’t want to lose you. You can’t… you can’t even imagine what it felt like-“

“Oh, you mean my friend being an inch from dying? How could I even imagine what it feels like, almost losing my best friend, huh?” you bit back, your voice more venomous than you intended. But god, you were getting sick of people doing your choices for you and assuming.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I lost someone who was as close to me as my family,” he replied with the same tone and guilt stabbed your insides instantly.

Oh. Oh. Now you were being a bitch. To be fair, he wasn’t being a saint either.

“I’m sorry. That was mean. But I had a point.”

Steve’s baby-blues softened and he reached for your hand again. “I’m sorry too. I’m really glad you’re okay enough to let your stubbornness overdrive your body and drag it here.”

Your lips spread into a smile involuntarily. There was nothing and no one who would have stopped me from getting here. “I’m glad you’re okay too.”

Silence fell for several moments and you didn’t feel like breaking it. You just wanted to snuggle to his side and never leave his warm embrace.

“You know… when you told me I was pushing it and you basically threatened me with freezing my ass off for another seventy years, I thought you were exaggerating,” he noted playfully, the famous spark of mischief lighting up his eyes.

You inhaled sharply, completely at loss of words. Did he just-

Then he squeezed your hand. “Dumb joke, sorry. Thank you, Snowflake. You saved my life.”

“I-“

“And I’m really proud of you for what you managed to do. You controlled yourself perfectly.”

You felt a blush colouring your cheeks in red, lowering your gaze. Steve shifted in his bed, moving to side, patting the newly created space next to him.

“Come here.”

You didn’t hesitate. You two did cuddling; usually, there were more clothes between your bodies, but it wasn’t unusual for you to fall asleep in his embrace during team movie nights. Plus, you couldn’t refuse an offer like that.

You climbed in the bed, his arm around your shoulders to keep you close and you nuzzled your cheek in his chest, throwing your arm around his waist. He kissed your temple tenderly.

“Rest, Snowflake… I love you,” he whispered and you snuggled closer at the words, the warmest feeling settling in your chest.

You… didn’t think he meant romantically. He said you were like family. And you were okay with that as if the near-death experience – both yours and his – finally gave you complete peace. You didn’t think the crush would go away, but… this felt right. This was enough.

“I… never thought I’d have a brother. And here we are,” you murmured, his muscles tensing, before he relaxed completely, burying his face into your hair, his body almost merging with yours. “I love you too, Steve.“

Neither of you said more. His chest was rising and falling slowly under your cheek, his breath warm on your scalp, his free had wrapped around your wrist, his fingertips on your pulse point. His own heart sounded as a lullaby in your ear and at some point, you drifted off to sleep.

Due to that, you nearly missed the team stumbling into Steve’s room. Natasha quickly put her index finger over her lips to shush everyone and pulled out her phone to snap a picture of the cuddling pair.

“Oh-ho, this is precious. This is a perfect blackmail material. Good job, Tasha,” Clint praised her and she winked at him.

“I don’t know, this looks too cute for a blackmail material,” Bruce questioned and Natasha giggled, not trying to disagree. It was the giggle that disturbed your dreamless sleep, your eyelids too heavy and your position too comfortable to make even the smallest movement though.

“These two sweet children. Can we just put them in ice like this?” Tony whispered and you managed to raise a finger at him, causing the team to laugh silently. “Snap a pic of that too. We’ll report her to Cap. This is even worse than swearing, I mean, she’s literally showing-“

Gradually, his voice was trailing off and then you could hear the door close shut.

Steve hummed sleepily and you just ran your fingers over his side soothingly, melting into his sleeping form once more.

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Part 6

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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart​, @murdermornings​, @elisaa-shelby​ @ask-hellbent-tweek​

[mz-hide]

Trick of Might - Chapter 11

Aka: a Dragon Ball Z slash fic.

Chapter 11

A little breather from the smutfest with some plot in which Piccolo may or may not be onto something and Bulma is a barely-managing adult.

(Warning: contains a lil spicy VegeBul moment)

Summary: An ancient enemy makes a sudden comeback into Goku’s life. Long-suppressed memories surface again and it’s no longer possible for the young saiyan to ignore them. Warnings: Dubious Consent, (because of drug use) Ships & Pairings: Bulma/Vegeta, Goku/Vegeta, Goku/Turles, Goku/Turles/Vegeta, Turles/Vegeta, Raditz/Turles, Nappa/Turles, Nappa/Raditz/Turles Contains: Threesome - M/M/M, Group Sex, Polyamory, Aphrodisiacs, Secret Crush, Confessions, Enemies to Lovers, Love Triangles, Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Gay Sex, Biting, Scratching, Boners All Around, Feral Behavior, (just a tiny bit), Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content

You can find the rest on my AO3 page (username: originalmonkeyhydes)

It wasn’t as if Piccolo was truly intimidated by his former enemy’s wife. Chi Chi was strong for sure, but not in comparison to a Namekian warrior. He had no real reason to fear her. Even so, he found himself flying off in the direction opposite to the Son family’s house. Bulma had made a lot of sense when she’d suggested that bringing back the news of her husband’s disappearance and her precious child’s unconscious body in the dead of the night was something she might not have taken easily. And a Namekian’s hearing was very sharp, their ears very sensitive. Piccolo didn’t need to risk making an attempt to know it wouldn’t have been a good idea. Instead, he flew to a place of peace and quite, where he could watch over Gohan while waiting for him to regain consciousness. The air was still quite warm in the wastelands. A spot on the soft, tender summer grass would have made a fine enough place for his pupil to sleep for the night. He’d been used to it during the year Piccolo had spent training him, after all. Sure, in the morning the woman would have been furious, waking up to find both her kid and her husband gone without a word or warning. But if he’d waited for the sunrise, Gohan would have been conscious again and Piccolo would not have been there to hear it when he made it back home to explain the situation. The green-skinned warrior flew at a leisure pace, constantly, mildly aware of the monstrous energy radiating from afar. Cell’s energy was still obnoxiously foreboding even at such a great distance. The bug-like android made no effort to conceal his outstanding aura. So far he’d kept his word and let time fly by without causing any more panic. The world was already shaking with the danger of the upcoming tournament that would have decided its fate. Cell would be the type for self-complacency. Piccolo could believe he would truly just sit the entire month out without even making a move to re-assert his undisputed superiority or train. He seemed to believe he didn’t need to. And, of course, he was right. Even so, the constant presence of his aura at the corners of his conscience was making Piccolo beyond uneasy. What if that monster gets bored and decides to make a move while Goku is gone? Who’s going to face him then? As much as irks me to admit it, even having Vegeta around would come in handy right now. With those two idiots gone, there’s only so much the rest of us can do. We can still count on Trunks, but… He looked at the boy in his arms and felt a familiar uneasiness take hold of him. Gohan had grown strong. He had to remind himself the boy was now stronger than him. If he was stronger than Cell, that he didn’t know. Goku was keeping the details of their father-son training to himself, leaving Piccolo and all the others in the dark. If he were a betting man, he would wager the saiyan had done that not to give his friends too high hopes. Part of him wanted to trust the man’s secrecy, part of him couldn’t help but doubt him. Goku was a capable fighter, maybe the only hope they had to save the planet from the new menace. Piccolo had grown to know and respect him over the years, he’d grown to care for his son too, so much that their unlikely new-found friendship had eclipsed his ancient unconditional hatred. But how was he supposed to trust Goku now? The saiyan had just disapeared on them without saying a word. But even that would have been fine, if the distraction hadn’t kept him off planet for so long. This is the kind of reckless behavior that almost got him killed on Namek. He can’t afford to keep behaving like this when he has the fate of the world on his shoulders, he moped, gently landing on a plateau of his liking, laying Gohan down on the soft, fragrant grass. The rock still retained a faint trace of the scorching direct sunlight it had absorbed during the day and let out a pleasant glowing warmth. Even at that height, the temperature was still pleasant and the rock formation shielded them from the strongest gusts of the desert winds. Nevertheless, the Namekian took off his heavy clock and set it over the sleeping boy’s body to shield him from the chill of the night breeze. He sat down next to his pupil and let his eyes roam the landscape, absorbed in meditation. A slight frown creased his forehead upon noticing a familiar disruption of the otherwise harmonious skyline. There was an unnatural void where once had been plateaus and mountains, as if the land had been swept clean. A lot had happened since then and he hadn’t ventured to that place, but Piccolo still remembered where he’d died. He hand’t been alive to see the mountains crumble and rock turn to dust to know that was the destruction brought about by Goku and Vegeta’s first fight. Another wave of fretting irritation washed over him. Goku’s night escapade had been just the cherry on top of a cake of foreboding signs he’d elected to overlook. Lately, the man’s behavior had been debatable, to say the least. Since Trunks had showed up to warn them about the androids, something had changed. Initially he’d seemed to take the threat seriously. He’d trained diligently, pushing Gohan as hard as he would push himself. Piccolo had found his intensity fitting for the occasion. He could have almost sworn Goku had started being considerate, possibly for the first time in his life. He had suggested not to use the dragon balls to resolve the problem, so that Vegeta would have a reason not to antagonize them anymore. That had felt like a smart idea. Piccolo saw it as the next best option to fix the mistake of leaving the other saiyan alive. He hadn’t noticed that Goku was actually just being reckless. He had forgotten to take his medicine. He had forgotten his own life was at risk. And then, even after Vegeta had proven himself unworthy of trust, he’d kept spurring him on, going to the length of telling him about the hyperbolic time chamber. All the conniving, the teasing, the flaunting and the unexplained secrecy… Piccolo was starting to think it had all been a just a game between the two saiyans. And he sure as hell did not like that thought one bit. He lifted his eyes to the sky, brooding. Now that those two had gone and took to space together, he didn’t know what to think. Especially since the faint, ominous energy orbiting about the solar system hadn’t waned nor spiked since. Knowing Vegeta, there was a good chance he was going to take the occasion to test his power and stroke his ego. Knowing Goku, there was no way he would have turned down a challenge if the Prince had presented him with one. That was the whole reason he’d spared him, even after he’d threatened to destroy his planet and kill his son. Piccolo retroactively cringed in indignation at the thought. Saying he disliked Vegeta was saying very little. Though he’d grown to understand and respect Goku, first as a worthy opponent and then as something akin to a friend, when it came to his decision to spare Vegeta, he had very little trust in his judgment. And he was starting to have little trust in his own. He’d just let the saiyan go. He’d just knowingly let the proud, overconfident, delusional Prince of saiyans get to something that could potentially make him a serious threat again. If Goku had been wrong and the tree had produced fruits, Piccolo wasn’t sure Vegeta wouldn’t have consumed one and took the chance to take his nemesis out once and for all. He would have done it, even if it had meant he would be dooming Earth to certain destruction. He had a spaceship, after all, he could decided to leave everything behind him, if he wished to. Why wouldn’t he, after all? The Prince had put the whole planet in danger before. He was the one responsible for Cell’s final form. He was the one who’d allowed him to transform. His arrogance was what had doomed them all. But, more than that, it had been Goku’s fault. He was the one who’d pushed them all down that dangerous slope the moment he’d decided not to use the dragon balls. He’d wanted it all. And he’d wanted all that, he’d put himself and all his friends though it all just to keep Vegeta on the planet. But does Vegeta even care for that? No. All he cares about is to become stronger than Goku so that he can have his rematch and beat him. And he doesn’t plan to show the same mercy Goku has showed him. If he wins, it’s the end. All he wants is to beat Goku. So, why waste the chance, when he has a way to become stronger than him right in front of him, ripe for the plucking? He gritted his teeth. One would think that, after all the training they’ve been through and ascending beyond the level of a super saiyan, it would be impossible not to feel it if those two were to fight. I can’t sense anything like that. If they’re not fighting, then… what are they both doing up there? Gohan mumbled slightly in his sleep, turning to the side. His serene sleeping face was a nice distraction from his disturbing trail of thoughts. The Namekian put his worries aside, focusing instead on keeping watch over his pupil.

Her entire body was flaring with anger. Her stupid experiment wasn’t going well, sitting in the lab had been infuriating. Once frustration had gotten to her, her hands had started shaking, her mind had stopped reasoning but she’d refused to stop. And then the damn thing had decided to explode right in her face. She was lucky she had been wearing a mask of she would have lost an eye. Or set fire to her hair. Not that it would have been exceedingly regrettable, considering it probably look awful anyway. Bulma had been feeling uncharacteristically ugly for a while. She felt swollen and possibly constipated. Her clothes seemed to fit too tight and her skin and hair seemed to be more greasy than usual, no matter what she did. When she wasn’t chewing a gum, she gnawed at her nails. And to top it all off, there was a warm, tight, stirring coil in the pit of her stomach that just wouldn’t leave her alone. After handling the rest of her day so poorly, deciding to resolve that particular issue was probably a bad idea. But she felt too pent up to care. “My room. 10 minutes”, she demanded through the intercom. The holographic screens were probably showing a face as inviting as her tone. It was a good thing Vegeta was facing in the other direction, one hand behind his back and one on the floor, pushing his weight up with seeming difficulty. Droplets of sweat ran down his sides and fell to the floor as if they’re been made of led. Gravity in the chamber must have been impossibly intense. “Not now, woman, I’m training.” Not a tone she was willing to listen to right now. “I was working the other day but I had to drop everything and indulge you when you came looking for me, didn’t I?”, she insisted, defiantly. “You liked it.” Arrogant asshole. “You’ll like it too. Now get over here.” “I told you, I’m training. I don’t have time for your stupid whims.” “If you don’t come now, I’ll turn the gravity chamber off. You know I can do it.” “You wouldn’t dare-“ Bulma shut the communication off, abruptly. She wasn’t having any of Vegeta’s attitude that day. She accessed her remote control panel and shut the power down. It wasn’t long before she heard the Prince’s heavy steps as he stormed to her room. When he got in, he was fuming as she was. He hadn’t bothered washing sweat off his face and chest, nor putting clothes on. He was still wearing a pair of training shorts and the scent of exertion. To Bulma’s satisfaction, he also wore a look of astounded surprise the moment he saw her, already naked and confrontational, arms on her hips and head held high in a defiant pose. He staggered. A hint of color showed on his cheeks, and not from anger, this time. Good. “I warned you.” The saiyan glared at her, nostrils twitching. She could read tension everywhere in the stiffness of his body and a conflicting glimmer of interest in his dark, flashing eyes. By that time she’d had plenty of fights with Vegeta to know what kind of emotions confrontation stirred up within him. She could tell when she had already won. “Dammit, woman! Do you need it that badly?!”, he growled. “You’re lucky I didn’t increase gravity enough to crush you instead of turning it off”, she uttered, drily, pursing her lips. “If you play nice you might be able to convince me to turn it back on.” But of course, Vegeta wasn’t going to play nice. He picked her up -not as girls dream to be picked up by their knights, but like a potato sack, flung over his shoulder- and threw her onto bed. Her head spun, but she didn’t complain. The rough treatment was just what she needed right in that moment. Her legs were spread open before she knew it and her breath grew hoarse when the saiyan’s hand started touching in between them. “You really needed this, didn’t you?”, the Prince asked, cruelly, as she bucked against his palm. “That’s what I call you up here for, isn’t it?” The scientist whined when warm, calloused digits flicked along her lips, finding the abundant wetness that had bloomed within. She didn’t need much more touching and teasing before she was ready to accept them inside. Her hips tilted and her thighs twitched, feeling them curl against her walls, making her gasp. Vegeta compensated for the compliance of one of his hands with the other, pinching one of her nipples, hard enough to sting. She squealed and slapped him. Her palm throbbed from the hash blow, he’d barely budged. There was a smirk on his face when he pinned both her hands over her head. She didn’t fight against his hold. But she did press a knee against his crotch and cherished the spangled grunt that earned her when she increased the pressure. “You are being bitchier than usual today. And not in an attractive way”, the saiyan hissed, his voice deep and raucous. “But it’s working, isn’t it?” She could feel him swelling against the rubbing of her thigh. “It won’t work forever.” “I beg to differ. You love being kicked around.” “Not as much as you love playing with fire. What exactly do you think will happen if you keep riling me up like this?” “How else can I get your attention, when you keep avoiding me?” “I avoid you because I can tell you’re hormonal. You’re insufferable!” “Then maybe I will stop taking the pill, you asshole! How does that sound?”, she said, surprising herself. The Prince understood well what protections were for but he hadn’t been too enthusiastic about using them. He’d agreed to get tested for any possible alien disease he might have had. After the results had been happily inconclusive, their last bag of condoms had been left to expire on the nightstand. She couldn’t deny it, as much as she enjoyed letting him finish inside her, she had grown tired of the pill. Even with the superior custom Capsule Corp version, side effects weren’t worth it. “If it’ll tone the crazy down, then fine!”, Vegeta rebuked. He sounded as exasperated as she felt.   “Alright, maybe I will!”, she threatened and bluntly yanked the saiyan’s shorts down his thighs, freeing his erection. “Fine, then!” “Fine!” She was so aroused she didn’t stop to think about what they’d just said. By the time Vegeta had slipped inside of her and made her whole bed rock under his forceful thrusts, her mind had been tacitly made up. Later, with her arms and legs wrapped around the saiyan’s sturdy built, cradling his head against her shoulder and feeling his heat spilling inside of her, her eyes had drifted to the box of pills on her nightstand and found resolve in her decision. A sort of primal, whimsical urge had found its way into her brain…

When her hand found nothing but cold sheets, Bulma’s head shot up, almost instinctively. She blinked in confusion, the heaviness of sleep still resting on her head, looking at the empty space beside her in the bed. For a moment, she’d forgotten. Vegeta never stayed afterward. He didn’t sleep in her bed anymore. Or was it she who didn’t let him? She couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter. She rubbed her eyes, trying to chase some of the tiredness away. Outside, stars had started to fade. Sunrise had just started to brighten the night sky. The day was on its way, but not quite there yet. She forced herself to slip out of her bed and look outside. From her room she could see most part of the yard. The landing strip where her spaceship had been anchored was still empty. Vegeta hadn’t come back. Or not to her back yard, at least. Judging from the time, it couldn’t have been more than four of five hours since he’d left. Still not a worrying amount of time. She diligently checked the security cameras around the house and then into Trunk’s room. No sings of the saiyan and her precious baby boy was still fast asleep. It wouldn’t have been too long before he’d woken up, demanding her milk.  Nevertheless, the late-night snack from the night before might have bought her some time. And she knew just how to use it. With a relieved sigh, she let herself fall down on her bed once more, crawling under the sheets, baby monitor in hand. She figured she could slip in a couple more hours of sleep, if luck assisted her. She would have surely heard the spaceship engine when Vegeta deigned to come back.