#spring 2018 vegebul smutfest

[scarletraven1001]

Impasse

Bulma knew that having such wanton desires for her irresistible boss was wrong on all possible accounts, but even though she tried so hard to, she just couldn’t resist him… Not when his body against hers felt oh, so right.

AU. A late submission for the February 2018 / Spring 2018 @tpthvegebulsmutfest

Bonus day eight: Basset Hound.

Explicit Content.

All Chapters:  1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9

Also on Ao3.

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Impasse

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The sharp clicking of her heels against the dark marble floors echoed across the now deserted hallway. Her green clipboard was clutched securely against her chest by her left arm, her right hand absently twirling a pen between her slender fingers.

Only a few minutes left until midnight, and everyone else, save for the handful of security personnel, had left the building.

The larger areas lined with small offices and long lines of office desks were far behind her as she moved into the narrow hallway leading into the executive office.

Her wire-rimmed glasses felt heavy as it stubbornly slid down her nose, and she lifted a hand to push it up to be level with her pale blue eyes, her pupils dilating as they adjusted to the darkness that grew deeper the farther she moved into the narrow hall.

She fidgeted with the edges of her light gray blazer, and she tucked her pen into her coat pocket to smooth down her black inner blouse. She paused in her steps to finger the bottom of her tight skirt, self-consciously pulling at it to make it appear as long as possible even though she knew that the short skirt ended a couple of inches above her knees.

She was stalling. She knew she was.

Just as much as she knew that he knew, as well.

She felt her heart begin to pound against her rib cage as the dark door to the CEO’s office loomed before her. She took a deep breath, pushing a stray lock of her straight, blue, shoulder-length hair behind her ear, before lifting a hand to announce her arrival.

She pressed a button on the side of the small, electronic door lock, turning on the intercom and sending an alert to the person waiting for her within. “Ouji-san?” she called softly into the small microphone.

The small machine beeped, the red indicator turning green as the door opened slightly to let her in.

She pushed the door open, stepping into the large office surrounded by floor to ceiling windows. The lights from outside buildings blinked merrily up at her, the only source of illumination in the otherwise pitch-dark office.

She stood still as she heard the door swing closed, the soft beeping sound letting her know that the door had locked behind her again. Looking around, she noted the long, dark tan couch and small mahogany table sitting on the right side of the office, the display case of trophies and awards to the left, and finally set her eyes onto the large wooden desk at the far end of the room. Steeling herself, she walked up to the desk, approaching the imposing figure seated on the leather chair behind it.

He sat hunched over, his face hidden by the dark shadows of the office. His fingers were steepled together, hands supporting his chin as he leaned on the table. He seemed relaxed in his stance, almost careless, but she could tell by how his shoulders tensed slightly as she approached that she was not the only one feeling the effects of the darkness between them.

The blue, long-sleeved shirt he was wearing stretched deliciously across his chest, a black tie wrapped loosely around his collar. She could clearly discern the outline of his defined arm muscles pushing rebelliously against the sleeves, which he had folded up to rest just below his elbows.  She noted that his black coat was hung onto the coat rack behind the door, the red emblem of Ouji Enterprises stitched meticulously onto the breast pocket.

His head was angled down, his narrow glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as his eyes watched her approach him from above the rims of his specs. His dark lashes mesmerized her, his thick brows scrunched together as he regarded her with an unreadable look on his handsome face.

His dark hair was a riot of flames on his head, and she faltered in her steps as she remembered that those deceivingly sharp-looking tresses had felt as soft as the finest silk between her fingers. His prominent widow’s peak slashed down, leading her eyes to the attractive, masculine facial features she had all but memorized since she had begun working for him six months ago.

She stood unmoving before the large table as reached him, her eyes meeting the obsidian orbs of the man who watched her every motion like a predator poised to attack its chosen prey.

Her voice lodged into her throat as she attempted to speak, but her hesitation was not missed by the eager spectator. A corner of his lips lifted in a smirk, breaking the deafening silence between them.

“Bulma,” the soft sound of her name left those lips in a husky whisper, and it was only then that she realized, with a sharp jolt, that she had been staring at him as if in a trance from the moment she walked in.

“Ouji-san,” she began, “I have emailed you the charts that you need for tomorrow’s board meeting. I have the printouts ready as well.”

“Ouji-san?” he asked with a raised brow, and she watched, mesmerized, as he slowly, sinuously stood from his relaxed slouch on his leather chair. He leaned towards her, large hands bracing himself on the desk as he regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Why Bulma, must you be so formal?”

She gulped, his soft voice inciting a myriad of lascivious memories within her, her heart racing as she remembered how that voice and his hot breath against her neck had sent delighted shivers down her spine.

Her gaze traveled up to meet his, but she hesitated at the last moment, choosing to fix her eyes on the frames of his glasses that had been sliding down his patrician nose. The glasses, she knew, were an act. He had perfect vision, but the glasses, to most, denoted experience, knowledge, power… this man commanded respect.

She fought against her body’s response to his nearness, straightening her back as she replied as stiffly as she possibly could. “I only dropped by to inform you of the status of the report, Ouji-san,” she emphasized.

She took her eyes off him as she peered down into the contents of her clipboard, pulling out the sheets with the printed charts and statistics.

With a flourish, she held the papers out towards him, very nearly hitting him with them in her increasingly flustered state.

“See here,” she motioned to the first page, setting her clipboard down onto the table so she could point at the charts as  she explained, pretending not to notice that the man she was talking to was completely ignoring her work in favor of blatantly watching her. “This first chart indicates the attrition rates of the sales department, as well as the reasons cited for the resignations.”

She dared a peek up at him, and she saw that he had basically zoned out, his gaze fixed on her lips as she continued speaking. “The majority of our staff members are satisfied with their work environments, so the number is basically negligible. The only cause for concern is the departure of Tien, who was the second highest seller in the third quarter. Now here, we-”

“Enough!” his palm smacking against the tabletop, and the forceful tone of his voice stunned her into silence as she looked up at him in alarm, the papers falling from her slack grip.

“Enough, woman,” he rasped, eyes boring into her as his dark gaze commanded that she meet his own. “This has gone on long enough. Why do you insist on tormenting me?”

“Tormenting you?” she asked, disbelief making heat rise to her cheeks. She fisted her hands, planting them on her hips as she stood to her full height, glaring at him as menacingly as her small frame would allow. “I only came here to give you the reports! You are the one who keeps making this so difficult!”

“I am not the one who is hot one moment and arctic the next,” he seethed, one hand moving up to violently pull his glasses off, throwing it carelessly to land on the paperwork on his desk. Moving quickly from behind the desk to stand directly before her, his hands were clenched tightly at his sides, his eyes blazing as he regarded her. “I have told you, under no uncertain terms, that I want you. I have shown you that I want you. But you have yet to give me a straight answer.”

She bit her lip in indecision.

When Bulma had applied for this job, she was supposed to have been hired as the secretary of the owner of the company. The man was old enough to be her father and, though imposing, had been kind enough that Bulma had immediately accepted the offer.

However, two short days before Bulma was supposed to start work, the older man had suddenly decided to leave the company and hand the reigns over to his eldest son.

The said eldest son had become her boss instead. What started out as a simple job became a battle of wills when the attraction they immediately felt for each other upon meeting quickly became unbearable, undeniable…

And now, said boss was hovering over her, his slanted eyes betraying his anger and a more pained emotion that she could not quite put her finger on.

“Please… please, Ouji-san,” she whimpered, snapping her eyes shut to keep from seeing the chaotic passion in his, and to keep him from reading the raw emotions in her own.

“Say my name, Bulma,” he dared her, and she felt his fingers quickly, but gently grab her chin, forcing her to crane her neck slightly to look up at him.

He was not much taller than her, but his presence was like a storm, strong, volatile, and if left untamed, capable of utter destruction.

She was unable to fight him, and she lifted somber eyes up to regard him, her lips trembling with the confusion she could still feel deep in her core.

“Vegeta, please,” she finally whispered. His eyes were on her, watching every harsh breath that escaped her as she breathed painfully in her anguish. “We can’t. This isn’t right.”

“Don’t you dare say that it isn’t right, woman,” he growled. His sharp eyes softened marginally as he continued, “Because it feels right. You know it does.”

“I…” she stuttered, but he raised two fingers to her mouth then, softly laying them on her lips to halt her words.

“It felt right, when you surrendered to me after the office party,” he leaned closer, letting his harsh breath fan across her cheeks as he reminded her of the first time she gave in to him, the first time he possessed her body with an unholy passion that still burned her from head to toe.

She gasped as she felt the fingers of his other hand clutch her sides, slowly soothing the stress from her rigid stance before him.

She could feel herself begin to melt against him, and try as she might, Bulma could not stop her body from craving the hard planes of his own.

“It felt right last night,” he added, and a small sob left her as she felt him begin to wrap his arm around her, pulling her in ever closer, and she remained powerless to resist.

“It only feels wrong when you fight it, Bulma,” he said in a harsh whisper, his voice soft but urgent, insistent. “Because you know… that you belong with me. Only me.”

She sucked in a deep breath as he pulled back, a hand lifting to pull her glasses off her face, setting it down on top of her clipboard on his desk.

“Your body knows it,” he purred as the tips of his fingers stroked teasingly across her cheeks.

His hand traveled lower, slowly moving until his warm palm was resting on her chest, feeling the furious thudding of her heart against her rib cage. His lips lingered at her jawline, the feel of his breath on her skin raising goosebumps throughout her whole body as he continued speaking, “Your heart knows it.”

She felt herself falling into him, her hands itching to hold on to his powerful frame, seeking approval, reassurance, but her mind stubbornly refused to yield.

Bulma was a logical girl… she possessed an analytic mind that screamed at her how big of a mistake this was. She had something to prove, she needed to show her parents that she had it in her to succeed even without their family’s influence… that she could rise up in professional ranks in spite of, not because of, her physical beauty.

But… Vegeta was right. Her every sense, every beat of her heart, every drop of her blood, knew that she wanted this, wanted him.

As if he felt the acquiescence simmering within her, he seized the chance to crush her small body against his own, arms wrapping possessively around her as he dove down and his lips swiftly and vigorously captured hers in a deep, demanding kiss.

She lifted her hands to his chest, intending to push him away… but as she felt his warm strength against her palms, the walls she kept between her mind and her heart crumbled into dust, and she found her fingers curling into the material of his shirt as she moaned and kissed him back.

She closed her eyes against the feel of him around her, her fingers grasping wildly at him and moving up to hold him tighter to her. Her right hand wound around his neck as her left curled up under his arm, feeling his hard biceps flex beneath her touch as he tightened his hold on her.

Bulma parted her lips to let him in, and Vegeta quickly plundered her mouth, keeping control of the kiss as he tasted her, devoured her, dominating her with every deliberate glide of his tongue.

She heard him groan against her lips before he pressed himself against her, and she could feel him begin to harden through their clothes as he rubbed his pelvis teasingly against her. She moaned in kind, the sound breathless and needy as she clutched the nape of his neck with desperate urgency, all but lost to the sensations of his kiss, the hurried but gentle caress of his hands on her body.

Without breaking their kiss, his hands fell to her waist, grasping her sides tight before she felt him lift her, settling her down to sit on the edge of his desk.

She hummed in delight against his mouth, her hands dropping to his arms. She could feel his strength as his biceps flexed with his movements, and her fingers curled possessively around the taut muscles she could feel beneath the cloth of his shirt.

He stepped closer to her, his knees knocking softly against the wood of the table she was on, as his arms wound around her hips. His hands spread out, he greedily palmed her buttocks to drag her to the very edge of the table. He stood between her parted legs, pressing his growing arousal against her dampening core.

He finally broke the kiss, his lips feathering gently across her jaw, his teeth nipping teasingly while she could do nothing but hold on and sigh in pleasure at his touches.

Vegeta’s hands found hers, and he entwined their fingers, his much larger hands completely engulfing her own as he raised their clutching hands to rest against his chest.

She could feel his erratic heartbeat against the back of her hand, and she pulled away from him, her eyes seeking his amidst the darkness.

She gasped as their gazes met, and her heart basked in the need that she saw clearly written in his obsidian orbs… need that she knew he could also find in her cerulean eyes.

“Bulma,” he breathed softly, his breath fanning across her lips as he closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers.

He released her hands, and he opened his eyes to stare into her own as she felt him reach up and begin to pull her blazer down her shoulders.

She knew where this was leading to. She knew what he wanted… what would happen if she didn’t pull away.

His eyes blazed his question at her, and she knew that he would stop if she told him to stop. If she closed her eyes against his penetrating gaze and halted his hands from removing her clothes, he would step away from her and let her leave.

But she didn’t do any of those things. With a determined glint in her eyes, she straightened her arms and let him pull the offending garment off her.

He understood, and with renewed vigor, he pulled the blazer down, then carelessly discarded the garment at their feet.

She reached up to unknot his tie, then snaked it along his neck before dropping it to the floor as well.

Her fingers languidly traced up his sides before she reached for the buttons on his shirt. She determinedly watched her fingers slowly unbutton each one until she had his shirt open, then she gently pulled the material to untuck it from his pants.

The shirt hung listlessly around his body, and her mouth watered as she looked longingly at the beautiful body framed by the material. She noted how his breathing had quickened, deepened as she undressed him, and unable to avoid his gaze anymore, she looked up to meet his eyes once again.

The intensity of his stare took her breath away for a second before he pulled her close into another kiss. The kiss was deep, probing, with none of the urgency of the last one, but with even more of his feelings injected into every small motion, every stilted inhale.

Bulma closed her eyes as she groped for his shirt, pushing it off his broad shoulders. The silk slid off his form like water, joining the growing pile of clothes at their feet.

She pulled away from the kiss then, her eyes selfishly raking in every dip and angle of his deliciously ripped torso. She saw his hands move towards her, holding the edges of her blouse, before he began pulling it up. She raised her hands as he pulled it over her head, and she now sat before him in her black bra and her short skirt that had hiked up her hips due to their frenzied actions.

She watched as he dropped her blouse and stared at her, his longing for her a tangible wave that he exuded from every pore of his body.

Bulma had to wonder what he saw when he looked at her that had him so mesmerized. It puzzled her, what a man with such a perfect face and a body that could make the gods themselves weep in envy, could possibly find so desirable in someone such as her.

Sure, she knew she was beautiful… but the way he looked at her made her feel like no other mortal could come close to her. He made her feel like the most immaculate being in the universe, and it excited and confused her all at the same time.

She wondered if what he saw in her was the same as what she saw in him.

To her, there was not a single flaw on him. His sharp eyes, straight nose and sensuous lips beckoned to her, and her desperate hands reached out to pull his amazing body to hers as he reached and grasped her to him as well.

To her surprise, he didn’t move to kiss her, nor to touch her anywhere else in an attempt to arouse her. Vegeta simply held on to her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, taking deep, unsteady inhales as he let his lips gently graze her shoulders.

The intimacy of the moment brought tears to her eyes, tears she fiercely held back as she choked out his name.

“Vegeta,” she whispered, and she hummed as felt him shudder against her, his arms tightening around her in response. His hands spread wide across her back, and she felt as one hand smoothed up her skin to toy with the clasps of her bra.

She didn’t resist when he unclasped the garment, and she felt the straps loosely hang on to her shoulders before he snuck his hand up to pull her bra away. As it fluttered to the ground, she felt the hand on her back moved to wrap more tightly against her, pressing her to him once more, her breasts rubbing against his hard chest.

His other hand reached down to grasp her buttocks, lifting her off the table, and she automatically wrapped her long legs around his hips as he carried her up, making his way to the couch on one side of the office.

He lay her down on the plush cushions, and he moved to lean over her, his eyes roaming her as he reached for her skirt and began to tug it off.

She reached down to unzip it before he actually tore through her clothing, and she lifted her hips up as he dragged her skirt down her long legs.

She lay there in just her panties and her heels, which she absently kicked off her feet while she hungrily watched him begin to unbutton and push his black slacks off. He kicked his shoes off, impatiently pulling his socks from his feet as he let his pants drop all the way down to the floor.

His narrow hips, framed by that slashed indent between his torso and thighs, made her mouth positively water. His black silk boxers wrapped tight against his lower hips, concealing that part of him that now strained against the restricting cloth of his underwear.

He leaned over her, one hand bracing him above her as the other began to trace languid circles around her stomach. The soft touches made her ache, and she felt her hands itch to touch him, to hold him as dearly as he held her.

She lifted her hands, and very gently held his cheeks in her warms palms, smiling shyly at him with her kiss-swollen lips.

He didn’t smile back, but he did acquiesce to her silent request. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he lowered his head, his lips locking with hers in another intense kiss.

She could feel him everywhere, enclosing her, the darkness of their surroundings adding to the thrill as the allure of the forbidden pierced straight through her mind to riot loudly within her chest.

He pulled away from her lips, and she sighed his name in delight as his lips travelled south, until she felt his hot breath on her breast.

His sinful lips descended, leaving fleeting kisses all over her chest, suckling on the skin of her soft mounds. His hand not supporting his weight over her reached up, the backs of his fingers softly caressing the sides of her breast before he turned his hand over so the center of his palm rubbed her nipple.

She gasped as he began a gentle massage, kneading her until her nipples pebbled under his touch.

She arched up when she felt his warm tongue lave her chest, climbing up the slope of her breast until the soft warmth licked demandingly on her aching tips.

“Vegeta,” she moaned, closing her eyes, a loud cry escaping her when his lips closed around her nipple and gave a strong suck. She pressed him tight against her chest, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, the smooth, familiar feel of them making another surge of desire crawl from the center of her chest to the tips of her toes.

He moved his attentions to her other breast, while his right hand moved sensuously down her body. He grabbed her left buttock, kneading the flesh almost aggressively while she lost her mind in a haze of pleasure, her leg lifting up to wrap around his waist, opening herself to him, ready and eager for his touch.

Taking that as his cue, Vegeta gripped her hips to his, grinding his erection on her core and she cried out, her restless hands pulling roughly at his hair. He pulled his lips away from her chest, leaning up to mouth at her shoulder before he kissed a trail down her torso, his tongue dipping into her navel before teasingly nipping at the skin on her lower abdomen.

Bulma groaned loud as the tips of his fingers moved to play around the edges of her underwear, hovering around her netherlips, his nails scratching lightly at the smooth skin of her inner thighs.

She scrambled to touch him, her hands finding purchase on the smooth skin of his back as he stretched her panties to one side, revealing her to him.

A dark red flush came over her cheeks, reaching her upper chest as she nearly sat up when she felt his fingers begin to trace her labia.

“Vegeta!” she cried out his name, her voice hoarse with her desire. It felt so good to let those syllables slip from her lips, the sound of his name an affirmation of the identity of the only man who had ever made her crumble so thoroughly with just the stroke of his hands.

He glanced up at her, a smirk grazing his lips, and the naughty glint in his eyes distracted her enough that she violently started when he suddenly slipped a finger into her.

She threw her head back, her neck bobbing as a delighted cry lodged in her throat. She keened when she felt his finger delve more deeply into her, and her breathing all but stopped when she felt him add another finger, pumping slowly within her core.

“Does this feel good, Bulma?” he asked, his voice low and breathy as his eyes raked up her exposed body.

“Aaahh! Yessss. Oh!” she tried to formulate a smarter response as she knew he was just egging her on, but she was so completely overwhelmed by bliss that she would have been unable to spell out her own name.

She cried out when he suddenly pulled his fingers out, her hands reaching to grasp his upper arms as the feeling of utter frustration filled her.

She looked down her body and found that he had pulled away from her, but all her protests died in her chest when she saw his hands reach for the waistband of his boxers, pushing the soft article down to reveal his cock, hard and straining, veins bulging out and looking oh so beautifully tempting.

Her jaw went slack as unbelievable desire and need for his body roiled within her, desperate to feel that magnificent hardness inside her.

She reached down as well, impatiently shimmying out of her panties, pulling one leg out as the other one was still snug around his body, refusing to uncurl. She left it to hang around one knee, her free leg dropping to her side and off the couch so her foot was flat against the floor.

She preened as his narrowed eyes fixed intently on her body. He let his eyes travel from her flushed face, down to her heaving breasts, her flat abdomen, before finally resting on her exposed core.

Almost as if hypnotized, he dove down and with single-minded intensity, he wrapped his arms around her upper thighs, pulled her legs even wider apart, and with harried intent, set his mouth onto her core.

Bulma screamed, her body undulating wildly as he relentlessly licked and sucked at her center. His tongue entered her, mercilessly seeking to taste every single inch of her body.

One of her hands reached down to hold his hand on her thigh, while the other grabbed his hair once again, pulling at the dark strands as his lips on her core wrung the most delicious tremors from deep inside her body.

His teeth grazed her sensitive bud and her eyes clamped shut, fighting to keep her sanity in the midst of the undeniable euphoria. He suckled her most sensitive spot, torturing the fleshy bump while her wails grew louder and more desperate, echoing within the walls of his dark office.

Her head thrashed from side to side, delirium settling in her as the indescribable feelings mounted in her chest, her core thrumming in delight as Vegeta kept on pushing her towards the edge.

“Oh! Oh Ve- Ah! Vegeta!” she cried out, and finally, unable to hold on, her body bowed up, her core grinding against his mouth as he grasped her more forcefully, eating her out as she felt her release come over her, her climax gushing out of her, leaving her dripping with her excitement while Vegeta eagerly continued licking her, taking delight in the taste of her essence.

He kept on licking her and suckling on her, and finally Bulma was strung so tightly that the pleasure was nearly painful in its intensity.

“Vegeta! Please! No more!” she gasped out, her hands limply trying to pull him away from her by his hair.

With a last, long lick from her core to her clit, he rose up, a shit-eating grin stretching his lips while his eyes blazed with his own arousal.

She motioned to him with her hands, asking him without words to come nearer. When he did, she reached up, her arms wrapping tightly around him, pressing her breast to the hard planes of his chest as her tiny hands roamed the wideness of his back.

He took the hint, and he lifted her into his arms, cradling her to him, seating her down on his thighs as she trembled uncontrollably.

She could feel his erection, hot and hard against her belly. She knew he needed release too, but he just patiently held on to her as she stroked his torso, her hands tracing the hard muscles beneath his skin.

“Bulma,” he whispered, and she nuzzled his neck in response, taking a deep whiff of his delicious scent.

He smelled of virility, strength and power. His scent was the most amazing mix of everything Bulma had ever wanted in her life, and she could never get enough.

“Can you feel it, woman?” he asked, and the tenderness in his usually tough voice nearly made her collapse into tears.

“Yes, I feel it,” she thought, but she stubbornly refused to say the words.

Saying the words would mean her unequivocal surrender. Something she was not ready to do.

Her mind warred heavily with her heart and her body, but again… Bulma was a logical woman. She valued her mind above all else.

Everything within her was in chaos because of this man.

Bulma’s very soul was at a painful impasse.

He crushed her tighter against him when she failed to answer, and the tears pooled in her eyes as she thought of how absolutely unfair she was being towards this man.

“I need you, Vegeta,” she choked out against his skin, feeling goosebumps rise on his skin as he listened to her speak, felt her lips move softly around the words. “Take me… please.”

With nearly inhuman ease, he lifted her up, placing her facedown on the couch. She felt his hands gently coaxing her body until her hips were lifted up, hands braced flat against the soft cushions as he had her on her knees before him.

He then moved so he was kneeling behind her, legs on either part of hers. He rested his hands on her hips, gently stroking the roundness of her bottom as he ground his hardness against her, making her feel his desire for her.

Bulma arched back, rubbing herself to him, mewling needily as she felt him hold himself with one hand, aligning his cock with her core, and begin to push in.

Their position made him feel so impossibly large inside her, as her closed legs tightened her passage to a maddening degree. She heard Vegeta groaning, the sound so harsh that it seemed more like a growl, as he pressed into her, bracing his hands on her hips until he was finally fully seated within her.

“Bulma,” he gasped as he remained motionless behind her, his hands just running up and down her back in delicate, reverent caresses.

She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes drinking in his powerful body looming over her as they stayed connected in the most intimate way. He was panting harshly, but his gaze on her remained soft as his eyes traveled the length of her upper body until his eyes met hers.

His eyes pierced her heart powerfully, leaving her a breathless mess when he slowly pulled out and swiftly pushed back in, thrusting languidly into her. She cannot look away from him, his dark orbs boring into her as his body pleasured her, fulfilled her, plunged so deeply into her that all coherent thought left her as she began to wail, blissfully unaware of the jumbled words flying from her lips.

Her hands clenched convulsively into the soft cushions beneath her, her breasts bouncing rhythmically with each hard thrust from her lover.

Overwhelmed by the sensations, Bulma squeezed her eyes closed, throwing her head back in a euphoric shout.

Vegeta leaned over her, and his hot chest on her back sent sizzles of excitement all throughout every inch of her skin. He wrapped an arm around her waist, clutching her tight as he thrust more urgently into her, his body within her evoking wicked thrills that had her sobbing deeply as his name spilled carelessly from between her clenched teeth.

His hand moved stealthily up her sides until he could cup one of her breasts, kneading the soft flesh as she continued to pant with their efforts.

“Ve… Ge… Ta!” she keened in time with his thrusts, her throat parched, sweat dripping down her temples as she leaned back against him, seeking to take in as much of his warmth as she could.

“Bulma,” he responded, his husky voice deepened even more by his insatiable desires.

He nipped at her shoulder, and she cried out, her arms beginning to fail as her body wound tighter and tighter, ready to spring free at any moment.

“Please… please!” she begged, but for what, she didn’t understand.

“Take all of me, woman,” he rasped as he drove harder into her, his hips faltering in their rhythm as he began to lose control.

“Oh! Vegeta! Yessss,” she moaned, her words ending in a needy hiss.

He bent slightly to the side, stretching as far as he could until he could nip at her jaw.

She turned her face to him, and the moment she did, his questing lips met hers, swallowing her cries in a frantic kiss.

She kissed him back eagerly, feeling that wonderful pinnacle of pleasure building up from within her.

She screamed into his mouth while his tongue robbed her of her very breath, seeking to take in and explore every tiny space of her mouth as he fucked her harder, faster, more urgently than he ever did before.

His hips pounded relentlessly into her as she tried with all her strength to meet his every thrust. Her limbs were seizing up, her body imploding with all the delectable sensations.

She reached up with one hand to grasp the edge of the couch to support her weight, while her other hand moved carefully to clutch at his hand around her waist, snaking her fingers in between his longer digits.

Vegeta’s fingers curled around hers as he pulled his mouth away from her kiss, and he gasped out his uneven breaths as his pumping hips carried them to the edge.

Their bodies writhed desperately, reaching, trying to grasp that point of no return.

“Say my name, Bulma. Say it again,” he rasped, a pleading tone ringing the edges of his words, and she could not have denied him if she tried.

“Vegetaaaa,” she whined, her word ending in a harsh gasp as she felt her release begin to take over her.

“Come for me, woman,” he whispered in her ear, a sharp nip to her earlobe punctuating his words.

“I’m so close!” Bulma said breathlessly, her voice nearly inaudible even to herself. “God, Vegeta, please!”

“Bulma,” he groaned as he gave her a particularly hard thrust that had her arching and convulsing in his arms.

She felt him pulling their entwined hands down until they rested low on her abdomen. His middle finger extended, suddenly flicking her clit as he kept pounding into her…

Bulma screamed, unabashedly throwing her head back, uncaring of anything beyond the two of them, together, as she exploded into a powerful orgasm, uncoiling from deep within her and making her entire body shake madly with ecstasy.

She felt Vegeta stiffen behind her, and she felt the warm gush of his release fill her, coating her insides as he came with a throaty shout, uttering broken syllables of her name in the midst of his garbled exclamations.

Her arms finally gave out, and she collapsed, catching herself on her elbows to keep her face from smashing into the thick cushions below.

Vegeta himself was incoherent, his breathing stunted and shallow as he tried to get his heart to calm down from the rapid rhythm that Bulma could feel from where he slumped bonelessly against her lower back.

It took them a while, but soon, he had recovered enough to move, and he pulled out of her, the action making her groan as she felt his warm cum sluicing down her upper thighs. He sluggishly gathered her into his arms, rearranging them on the couch as he lay down, holding her on top of him so her head was pillowed on his chest. She wound her arms around him as he cocooned her within his embrace.

They laid quietly, bare bodies shimmering with sweat, basking in the pleasure and overwhelming feelings of their coupling.

When they had caught their breaths, Bulma was the first to break the silence.

“I… I should go,” she whispered.

His arms simply tightened around her in response.

“Vegeta, I should really go. Somebody could come in and -”

“No,” he said softly, the begging lilt making her snap her head up to look at his face.

He was watching her, his eyes wide as he took in her own surprised expression.

“Stay,” he said again, fingers clutching her sides.

She looked up at him, her indecision warring within her now that the euphoria of her lust had left her, and her mind was clear once again.

“I can’t.”

“You can,” he insisted, refusing to let her budge.

She turned her eyes away from him, unable to stand the pained look on his face.

“Vegeta… I…”

“Stay with me, Bulma.”

Tears gathered at the edges of her eyes once again, and not for the first time that night, her heart won the battle against her brain.

“Alright,” she sighed, and she felt his arms hold her more securely as she spoke. “Just for tonight.”

“Not if I can help it. I am serious, woman. I want you.”

“I need to hear more than that from you,” she thought as she squeezed her eyes to hold in her tears.

And she realized then, with startling clarity, that the reason her mind kept screaming that this was wrong, was not because of propriety or her ambitions.

Her mind wanted to keep her from getting hurt. But her heart was already bleeding.

It was an impasse still, and she didn’t know of a way to break the stalemate.

8-8-8-8-8

Read Next.

8-8-8-8-8

Notes:

This story started as a one-shot, but I have decided to expand it into a full story.

I was stumped by the Basset Hound prompt, so I originally gave up since I can’t write anything for it… then I saw this picture.

Vegeta in glasses… Boss and secretary… I was absolutely helpless. I had to do it. :D

I have to admit though, that I didn’t foresee the angsty direction that this story had taken. Whoops.

Reference for the Basset Hound position here. 

Feedback will be greatly appreciated!

[hellsbells9000]

@tpthvegebulsmutfest    Day 5: Waterfall  A day late but I really couldn’t pass up this prompt

[scarletraven1001]

The Cure

Vegeta has been infected by a potent flu virus, and it is up to Bulma to find a cure. Emotions run high as Bulma fears losing him, and Vegeta fights to reassure her that for as long as she wants him, he will never, ever leave her.

[One-shot, post-DBS.

For the February 2018 / Spring 2018 @tpthvegebulsmutfest. Day seven: Cancer.]

Also on Ao3.

 8-8-8-8-8

The Cure

8-8-8-8-8

Bulma should have known that something was wrong when, upon waking, she found Vegeta still in bed.

He was usually up before everyone in the entire Capsule compound, training after only a few hours of sleep. He would emerge from the training room as soon as breakfast was served, because by then, he had already completed his warm-ups.

She had gotten up quietly, smiling fondly at his nearly inaudible snoring, then made her way downstairs to help their children prepare for the day.

It was about an hour later, as she was in the dining room strapping little Bulla into her high chair, when she realized that her husband still had not come down from their bedroom.

“Trunks,” Bulma called out to her son, who was already seated at the dining table in his high school uniform. He was holding a bagel in one hand and a text book in the other, his eyes moving rapidly across the words as he frantically tried to cram for that day’s upcoming exam that she was sure he didn’t prepare for at all.

Trunks turned to her distractedly, “Yeah, mama?”

“Could you go get your father?”

“He should come out of the training room soon enough,” he said dismissively, taking another large bite of his breakfast as he turned back to his book.

“Actually, he’s not there. He’s still in bed,” she answered.

The sixteen year old dropped his book along with his jaw, looking at her in disbelief. “What, seriously? No way.”

Trunks looked up in the direction of their bedroom with a confused furrow between his brows, before he went and headed upstairs, a tense look in his eyes.

Less than a minute later, she heard his voice calling out, “Mama! Mama you gotta come up here, quick!”

“Bulla, baby, stay here, alright?” she told her toddler, who was happily shoveling food into her mouth, as she stood to see what the problem was.

Trunks, who had hit a huge growth spurt in his last year of middle school and was now a few inches taller than her, looked like a troubled child again as he stood just outside their open bedroom door, wringing his hands in agitation.

“Trunks, what happened?” she asked, walking past the young man and into the room, where she found her husband laying on his side and facing away from her. He was curled up under the sheets, entirely concealed by the comforter save for his flame-haired head and left shoulder, dead to the world in slumber.

She was about to call his name to wake him when she realized that something about Vegeta was… off.

Why the hell didn’t she notice this earlier?

“Vegeta?” she called out softly, hesitantly, reaching out to place a gentle hand on his exposed shoulder.

A gasp left her lips, eyes wide and disbelieving, and she pulled her hand back in shock.

Vegeta was burning up.

His Saiyan body temperature was always marginally higher than an earthling’s, but as she touched him now, she recoiled at the nearly painful heat that she felt on her fingers.

“Vegeta?” she called out, slightly louder, concern gnawing at her insides when he didn’t budge even when she tried to shake him awake.

“Woman,” he finally responded, but his usually powerful voice was now raspy and coarse, barely loud enough for her to hear. “Cease this shaking at once.”

She breathed a sigh of relief, but it was very short-lived, as her usually infallible, nigh-invincible warrior of a husband suddenly barked out a throaty, painful sounding cough.

“Vegeta? Are you alright?”

He finally turned to her, and her eyes widened in shock as she took in his bleary eyes, pale face and very dry lips. Dark bags ringed his eyes and his nose was a dark pink, and he was rather unfocused as he tried to meet her eyes.

Vegeta was sick.

She never thought it would ever be possible.

Worry filled her entire body as she regarded him, slightly panicked at the thought of the existence of a virus strong enough to reduce her god-like husband to this state.

“Oh kami,” she muttered, then placed the back of her hand against his forehead, confirming the burning heat that she had felt from his shoulder earlier.

“Babe, I need you to just lay down here and wait for me, ok? I’ll just get the kids settled, then I will whip up something to make you feel better,” she said softly to him, leaning over to place a soft kiss on his sweat-dampened forehead.

He nodded weakly, and Bulma reluctantly left his side to see Trunks, who was still standing restlessly near the doorway.

“Trunks,” she began. “I know this is strange, but your father is very sick.”

“Crap! I knew it, something felt wrong with his ki,” he answered, running an agitated hand through his short purple hair. “But how on earth did that happen, mama? We Saiyans never get sick.”

“I don’t know, Trunks. But I need to find the cure. The last virus to ever affect a Saiyan…” Bulma trailed off, gulping audibly, and Trunks’ brows knit even closer together in worry.

“Uncle Goku’s heart virus,” he said coldly. “You told me about it. ‘Future me’ brought the medicine that ‘future you’ made for him.”

“Exactly,” she confirmed with a nod. “I need to make some medication for this virus, as well. It wouldn’t have affected your father if it was a common flu, so it must be a potent virus strain.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“I need you to get granny and tell her to take care of Bulla today. I will ask Son-kun for a senzu, but if that doesn’t work, I will take your father to the eastern medical wing. You and Bulla need to stay away from both of us because if it affected your father, chances are it will affect you two, as well.”

“What about you?” he asked, his eyes narrowed in concern.

“I will make the medicine, so if I catch the virus, I will take some of it as well. But don’t worry, I will be careful. Now go. Find granny, tell her to get Bulla,” she instructed, pulling her cellphone out and hitting speed dial. “You go to school and don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

“Hello?” the other line picked up as Trunks nodded and flew to find his grandmother.

“Chichi, is Son-kun there?” Bulma asked into the phone.

“Sure, just a sec. Goku-sa! It’s Bulma-chan!”

Shuffling, then “Hi Bulma!” her long-time friend answered.

“Son-kun. I have a problem,” she said without preamble. “It’s Vegeta. He’s very sick. Can you come and bring me a senzu bean?

“Sure, I’m on my way,” he answered, dropping the line. A few seconds later, he appeared before her, two fingers on his forehead from his instant transmission. He was clad in his usual orange gi, but was wearing a disturbed look on his usually smiling face.

“Did you say Vegeta was sick?” he asked, pulling the senzu bean out of his pocket and handing it to her.

“Yes, I did. Thank you,” she said as she took the bean. “Stay here while I give it to him. I don’t want to chance you catching this virus as well.”

She left Goku in the hallway as she made her way to her husband again.

She knelt beside the bed near him, a gentle hand on his shoulder to rouse him. “Vegeta. Can you open your mouth for me? I have a senzu bean.”

He opened his bleary eyes as he opened his mouth, then began chewing the bean.

One minute passed. Then two.

“It didn’t work,” she said, dread settling in as the realization hit her. This meant that this virus was potentially lethal.

She watched her husband go back to sleep, as she pulled her phone out again to call the chief of their biological research division.

“Suni,” she said as soon as the other line picked up, briskly walking out of the room to meet Goku in the hallway again. “I need urgent assistance. I am at the main Capsule house. Bring me two full sets of contact precaution PPEs immediately. Send urgent instructions for all staff to clear out of the eastern med bay, I know it doesn’t have any patients right now. Prepare a complete specimen sampling kit in the med lab. I need this done now, Suni.”

“Oh geez. It didn’t work?” the other Saiyan asked, eyes wide in alarm. “Now what, Bulma? Do you want me to get Whis?”

“No, he’s at that big meeting with the other angels. He told me last week. You won’t be able to reach him now.”

“I want to help. How can I help?”

“The Dragon Balls,” she answered, running back into her bedroom again, anxious eyes straying towards Vegeta as she dug into her cabinets for the dragon radar.

She ran back outside and handed the radar to Goku, as she heard her mother answer the door downstairs, knowing that it was her bio team with the protective gear.

“Son-kun, go and collect the dragon balls, just in case. I will call you if I end up needing them. For now, I just need you to take him to the med bay, then you need to stay away from Capsule Corp because I don’t want to risk you catching this thing as well,” she instructed as she saw her staff come up the stairs with the two sets of yellow gowns, face masks, shoe covers, hair nets and latex gloves.

She instructed Goku on how to put the items on before they both went into the room again to get Vegeta. She watched Goku’s eyes widen in shock as he took in the sight of his long-time friend and rival lying prone on the bed.

“He’s gonna be fine, Son-kun. I won’t let anything happen to him,” she reassured him as Goku picked Vegeta up, blankets and all.

“You know the usual med bay where we go when one of you are injured? Take him there and place him in the first room with a bed that you see. I will follow you in my hover jet. I will make the medicine and a vaccine. If this virus was strong enough to affect Vegeta, it may be strong enough to affect you, my children and yours. I need to formulate a vaccine,” she said, and she watched Goku nod at her before he flew off in the direction of the med bay, as she began to run to her car, worry gnawing at her very core.

I can do this. I will make that medicine, and I will make that vaccine. I know I can.

8-8-8-8-8

Bulma held her head in her hands as looked into the room monitor she left with Vegeta to keep an eye on him while she was in the lab.

She bit her lip as she watched the small centrifuge run her samples around, hoping against hope that her suspicions were correct. She had taken off most of her PPEs and was now in a labcoat, because if her hypothesis was sound, then she wouldn’t need the protective gear.

Goku had done as she asked, and when she arrived, she had asked him to leave her and Vegeta so she could take the samples and begin making the medicine.

Before she began working on the medicines though, she gave Vegeta some antibiotics, hoping they would help, but knowing it was futile if even the senzu were powerless against the virus.

She took her fluid samples and encapsulated them, while she opened up a capsule full of soup, water and other light food.

It took her a while, but she finally lifted Vegeta to sit up against the headboard. She was still in her protective gear as she fed him, and he watched her as she tried to coax some soup and drink into his parched lips. He was leaning heavily against the headboard and against her, and her heart was aching for him as she watched him try to ingest more food with her help.

“Bulma,” he rasped, reaching a hand out to hold one of her latex-wrapped ones. “I am full.”

“Could you at least drink some more?” she asked, holding up a glass of water with her other hand.

He nodded, then began drinking, and she was crushed as she watched him take very small, very painful-sounding gulps of liquid.

When he had drunk and eaten as much as she could possibly feed him, she lay him back down, placing a hand over his forehead. He was still burning up.

The last time he was this helpless was after the gravity room exploded all those years ago, and she was seriously getting anxious about what had infected him to make him so ill.

“Vegeta, I’m gonna let you go to sleep in a while. But do you think you could remember exactly when you started feeling sick? You never let on, you seemed perfectly fine yesterday.”

He blinked up at her, before he answered. “Two days ago. After I went to that animal farm with Bulla.”

The zoo.

He gulped again, his breathing harsh as he continued. “There were some strange-looking monkeys in a cage. One of them was sick. I started sneezing when I smelled him.”

Bulma’s mind whirred. A monkey?

“Bulma,” he whispered hoarsely, and she leaned closer to him to catch his next softly whispered words. “You can fix this. I know you can.”

Tears gathered at the edges of her eyes at his words, and she leaned down, planting a kiss on his forehead through the face mask still covering her mouth. “Yes Vegeta. I can. I will.”

‘I must.’

It was up to her to find the cure. To cure Vegeta. To save the love of her life.

She had immediately suspected that the monkey he was referring to had to have been involved in this somehow, and she very nearly trashed the whole medical facility as she looked for samples she knew she had stored for very specific types of viruses.

The machine stopped whirring, pulling her from her thoughts and Bulma immediately stood to regard the samples.

It was just as she suspected, as she analyzed the samples and noted that the two tubes that showed any reaction to her chemicals were the samples she had taken from Vegeta, and the one with the simian DNA.

Bulma immediately set to work. Knowing what she was dealing with now, she had a springboard, and knew that with her technology and brains, she could find the exact source of this virus and formulate her medicine to make Vegeta feel better.  

It appeared that her powerful alien warrior husband was infected by an evolved strain of simian retrovirus. By her research, the virus was not infectious to earthling humans in its current form, but there was a chance that it will eventually progress and be harmful to them as well.

Several hours later as the sun had already begun to set, a tired but very happy Bulma had her answers, a syringe of extra-strong antibiotic for Vegeta, and seven sets of vaccines germinating in the lab – six for her Saiyan family and friends, and one sample to accompany her research findings.

The scientist in her cheered the fact that she had come up with another brilliant discovery and was now working on a way to counteract it. She had compiled her reports, the data now ready for an initial proposal to the office of disease control in Satan City.

But the woman in her was anxious that this discovery had to harm her own husband first.

Relieved at least that she could now handle the disease, she headed to her patient to administer the antibiotic.

“Vegeta,” she called out as she entered his room. “I have your medicine.”

He glanced at her weakly, then began to sit up.

“No, babe, don’t get up,” she said, rushing to his side, pulling the blankets aside to bare his arm to her. She flicked the syringe slightly before she stuck it into the protruding vein in his arm.

“You’re gonna be fine. I got you,” she whispered to him, hoping that her medication works as expected, and soon.

She pulled the syringe out and discarded it into a sharps dispenser, then sat at a desk at his bedside, thinking he was asleep.

A soft whisper came from him, and her heart burst at his words.

“Yes. I know you do.”

8-8-8-8-8

A couple of days and two more doses of medicine later, and Vegeta was pretty much back in form.

He was loud and abrasive again, and she had woken up in their bedroom to find that the stubborn man had dressed in his armor and fighting attire, about to pull on his boots, and was insisting on going back into his training room as he was ‘fine’, he said.

“Vegeta, no. You are not going to train today. You need to rest some more!” she protested loudly, grabbing his arm as she tried to hold him back.

“Woman, I have been in bed for more than 48 hours! I have rested more than enough!” he shouted back.

“You didn’t see yourself two days ago! You were very sick and we were all so worried!” she tightened her grip on him. “Trunks was so upset that he only got 95% on his exam because he was so distracted thinking about you! Son-kun collected all seven dragon balls in two hours, he was in such a panic!”

“And I am telling you that I am feeling fine now, woman!”

“And I am not saying that you don’t feel fine now, what I am saying is you should rest more! Ease yourself into your routine, don’t just barge into the training room and bash your own skull in like usual!”

“I do not bash my own skull in, what are you even talking about?”

“Vegeta just sit the fuck down!”

Vegeta sulked as he sat down onto the edge of their bed, crossing his arms and looking away from Bulma with a huff.

Bulma sighed, her shoulders sagging.

“Vegeta, seriously. I was so worried about you,” she began, remembering the state he was in, and she felt treacherous tears begin to form in her eyes again as she thought back to that day, to the anxiety she had over whether or not the medicine was actually going to work… If she was going to be unable to save her own husband’s life, after he had repeatedly put himself through hell and back to always keep her and their family safe.

Vegeta turned to face her then, wincing as he noted the tears beginning to fall down her cheeks.

“Bulma, I am fine now. And I have you to thank for that,” he said, reaching for her and making her sit beside him on the bed.

Bulma wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling her face into his chest, her heart constricting painfully at the thought that if she had failed to find the cure, she could have lost this man.

He continued speaking, “I shall be more careful. I am just glad that I had been the one to catch the infection instead of Bulla.”

She nodded. “I think you caught the infection faster because you are full Saiyan. That is why the first person I called in to vaccinate as soon as the vaccines were finished was Son-kun.”

She looked up at him as she felt a rumble begin in his chest, rolling her eyes as she saw the widening smirk on his face.

“Oh yes, the sight of that fool screaming in terror as you tried to stick that tiny needle into his arm is definitely a memory that I shall cherish until the end of my days,” he said, a sadistic gleam brightening his eyes.

She gave him a soft reprimanding slap on his chest as she chuckled and he cackled in glee.

“Well, at least you found some entertainment in that,” she muttered.

“I hope that now you too are feeling more cheerful,” he said, and she felt his forefinger on her chin, lifting her face up to meet his eyes. The same finger moved up until it was softly caressing her bottom lip. “I owe you my life, Bulma. I do not know what would have happened to me if you hadn’t been here to find the cure.”

She smiled softly at him. “I will always be here for you, Vegeta. I would go to the ends of the earth to make sure that you are always healthy and happy.���

“And I would risk this entire universe if it meant that this smile remains on your lips,” he whispered, before he leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on her lips.

She felt a dark blush take over her entire face as she processed his words.

‘Did he actually say that?’ she asked, bewildered, even as she closed her eyes against the fuzzy feelings that his kiss, and his uncharacteristically romantic words, had evoked in her.

She realized that he must be feeling rather emotional at knowing that she had actually pulled him up from the edge of death. He wrapped his arms tight around her, lifting her against him, pulling her onto his lap as he deepened their kiss.

His tongue played softly with hers, running across her teeth, sampling every inch of her mouth. He delved into her, and Bulma moaned as his sensuous kiss began to stir the passion within her.

She felt his hands tangle in her short blue hair as he breathed in deeply, his mouth moving to slant more fully across her own. Her own hands began to wander, stroking the thick muscles on his upper arms that she could feel straining against his skin-tight clothes.

He groaned against her mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with the short hairs on his nape, and he responded by clutching her head possessively, taking full control as his kiss became more demanding, more ardent.

She began to pant as he pulled away from her to nip lightly at her chin, his lips and teeth leaving a hot trail of desire up her jawline until he reached her ear.

His teeth clamped softly on her earlobe and tugged, making Bulma cry out as her body started to writhe against him.

“Bulma,” Vegeta whispered into her ear, his warm breath sending shivers up and down her spine. “I want you, Bulma.”

She groaned, his words filling her with heat, her head falling back as he started planting kisses down her throat.

“Are you – oh!” she panted, “Are you sure you’re well enough, Vegeta?”

He chuckled against her throat, the sound sending delicious vibrations through her. “Let me show you, woman.”

He loosened his hold on her to clutch at the hem of her nightgown, which had ridden up and was now pooled around her hips. He pulled it up her body, his hands skimming her waist and the sides of her breasts, and Bulma sighed in delight as she felt her bare breasts meet the cold air of the room.

Vegeta stared hungrily at each inch of flesh he revealed, and Bulma was struck once again by how, even though they had been together thousands of times before, Vegeta still looked at her body as if he was seeing it for the first time, every time.

It was one of the things that made her love him so much.

When he had her gown off, Vegeta lifted her and brought her to the center of their bed, laying her back on the soft sheets and fluffy pillows.

He then got off the bed and stood on the floor to her right. Bulma turned her head to watch him as he smirked at her before his hands reached down to pull his armor off.

Once the white and gold breastplate was over his head, he untucked his tight top from his pants, then started to pull that off, as well.

He was so stunning, and Bulma watched with eager eyes as the shirt was pulled up, showing off his delectable six-pack, the rippling muscles leading up into the wide chest that she ached to feel in her palms.

He brought his hands down to his narrow waist and clutched the waistband of his pants, peeling off the constricting material, revealing his solid lower abdomen. She let her eyes linger on his hardening erection, his powerful thighs, before the pants were falling down to his feet where he carelessly kicked them off.

She sighed in satisfaction as he crawled back into bed and settled over her, his eyes meeting her eyes, his chest meeting her breasts, and she felt one hand roving over her stomach as his other arm braced him over her while his keen eyes took her in.

“Vegeta,” she whispered, her hands reaching out to cup his cheeks in her palms, before she allowed them to slowly move along his neck, his shoulders, and finally, to rest on the bulk of his chest, above his nipples, her right hand feeling the rough pounding of his heart against his rib cage.

He leaned down to plant another kiss on her lips, another slow and sensual liplock, as the hand on her stomach moved down to cup her through the material of her panties.

She mewled as she felt his fingers move over her mound, softly massaging her, his fingers lovingly stroking her lower lips through the thin cloth.

He began to move down, his mouth pulling lewd gasps from her lips as his wrapped around one of her nipples and began to softly suck.

Bulma arched her back, desperately pushing her chest closer to him, while her legs parted to invite him to touch her more thoroughly, more deeply.

Vegeta placed one hand under the small of her back, pulling her to a sitting position as he placed his weight on his knees, straddling one of her legs. The sucking movements on her nipple began to get stronger, his teeth leaving small bites across her chest while he alternated between her mounds, licking the paths his bites left along her torso.

Her arms reached out for him, grasping his shoulders, and she cried out when he punctuated a particularly hard nip on the side of her breast with his finger slipping beneath her panties to push lightly into her core.

His mouth left her chest to seek her lips once again, engaging her in a hard kiss as his finger found her clit and began to press insistently against it. She released a harsh cry, grinding her core onto his hand as he moved it down so the rest of his fingers rubbed against her center’s outer lips.

One of her hands moved down, clasping the hard ridges of his back. She felt a shudder leave him as she journey downwards, until her finger found the dark scar above his buttocks, where his tail used to be.

She let her fingers feel the rough skin, and he growled against her mouth, his fingers on her core pressing more insistently as she caressed him.

Unable to stop exploring his body, her hand drifted lower to grab his butt, kneading the tight roundness of him as she felt his fingers enter her core.

“Oh Vegeta!” She cried out, and he took advantage of her distraction to lay her back against the bed again. Her hands fell away from him as he moved up, his hand leaving her core, and she nearly cried in frustration as he stared at her with darkening eyes.

She watched as his hands moved to remove her soaked panties, slowly sliding them down her legs and off her feet.

Vegeta clutched the small article in his hand, then, with a wicked smirk at her, brought it up to his nose and took a very deliberate sniff, a deep inhale that made his chest fill with air as her aroused scent washed over him.

She moaned in lust, her arms reaching for him again, but he ducked away from her grasp before he reached down and flipped her over so her stomach was flat against the bed.

His hands were on her hips then, pulling her up so she was on all fours before him, her legs wide apart. Her hands tangled into the blankets beneath her as she felt his hands on her buttocks, softly massaging her soft bottom, and she felt his thumbs moving in ever tightening circles towards her core that peeked between her thighs.

She looked over her shoulder to see him, and she saw that he was kneeling behind her, his eyes glued to her center. She watched as he moved his face closer to her, taking another deep breath, before his head moved forward and she felt his tongue move in a long, slow swipe up her nether lips.

Bulma gasped, before a loud, keening whine left her throat, head falling back as the unbelievable sensations run amok through her entire body.

She felt his tongue move within her, his thumbs pulling her lower cheeks apart as he pillaged her center, kissing her there deeply, unabashedly, growling against her and making her shake and quake with need.

She felt his mouth open against her, and she screamed as Vegeta devoured her, taking her pleasure and breathing into it, his hands against her caressing her so softly while his lips were pure sin.

Her back stiffened, and her arms supporting her began to shake as she felt her release build up at the pit of her stomach. She rocked back against his mouth, his name pushing out of her throat as her body begged him for completion.

“Ve-Vege-taaaa!” she called, ending in a moan.

He kept licking her, kissing her, coaxing her… before she felt his thumb rub over the hard puckered hole behind her core as two fingers suddenly enter.

“Oh kami, Vegeta!” she screamed as her release washed over her, her body shaking uncontrollably as she rode it out, while Vegeta kept licking her, pleasuring her, leading her down from the amazing climax that he had given her.

Her arms and legs were boneless, and as Vegeta moved his mouth from her center, she helplessly fell on her face onto a pillow as her limbs gave out completely. Her hands were shaking, and she could feel her feet twitching.

Damn, that was amazing. She sure wished she could make her throat work so she can tell him.

It seemed she didn’t need to though, as her arrogant prince sprawled himself across her back, his legs moving in between hers as he pressed himself flush against her, and he chuckled into her ear.

“Liked that, did you?” he asked, moving his head to place a wet kiss on the nape of her neck.

“Mm-hmm,” she affirmed, turning her head to the side, still trying to catch her breath.

“Consider it my deepest gratitude for helping me survive a virus,” he said, his warm breath tickling her neck.

His hands were moving around her body again as she felt him, now hard and fully erect, pressing in between her butt cheeks and rubbing against her core.

She moaned, her body instantly coming back to life at the promise of more pleasure from this beautiful man.

“You saved me, Bulma…” he said, his voice low and passionate as Bulma felt him grasp her waist on her left side, pulling her body up until she lay on her right side under him. She bent her right arm to support her weight on her elbow, her other arm moving up to clutch his powerful bicep.

Vegeta then lifted her left leg, bending it up until it was curled fully against her, the tips of her toes touching the bed. He moved his arms on either side of her, bracing himself on his palms, his arms caging her torso in beneath him.

His face was directly above hers as she craned her neck to face him, and her heart melted at the gentle look in his intense eyes.

“You are the cure…” he whispered heatedly before he leaned down to capture her lips in his, as she felt him nudge her core and begin to enter her.

She moaned loudly against his kiss as she felt the head breach her, and he stopped moving his hips as he put his back into pillaging her mouth with his. That part of him inside her throbbed within her and she rotated her hips as much as she could, rubbing her buttocks against his abdomen and thighs as she lured him into becoming one with her.

He growled softly against her, and he angled his hips to slide into her.

Bulma’s entire body felt it as he entered her, his body rubbing against her insides so sweetly, completing her.

He pressed his body against her but didn’t thrust, his lips still on hers. She gasped against him as she felt his hips move in slow circular motions, and it felt like he was stirring her, making her come to life with his body within her.

His left hand moved to clutch her breast, kneading it eagerly as he continued rubbing himself against her.

Bulma pushed back against him with her hips, and Vegeta finally released her lips, looking deep into her blue eyes as he pulled nearly all the way out, then thrust back into her sharply.

He began moving in a very slow grind, going deep into her then slowly pulling out, then leisurely pushing back in again.

She moaned deeply, her eyes clenching shut against the sensations of Vegeta making slow, delicate, love to her.

The feelings coursing through her seemed unreal.

He was gliding fluidly against her, his whole body touching her, his breath on her cheek, his lips falling onto her eyes, her temple, her lips, as she panted in desire.

“Vegeta…” she mewled as she forced her eyes to open so she could watch his face as he moved sensuously against her.

“Oh kami… this feels so good… Ah!” she murmured, her face so close to his that she could follow the drops of perspiration falling from his forehead.

“Bulma,” he answered as his hand on her breast moved up to hold her face.

He looked so open to her in that moment, his eyes shining in wonder, and she felt so overwhelmed by the emotions on his face that she pressed her lips onto his again, kissing him as warmly as she could even as she panted into his mouth.

“Vegeta… I love you,” she whispered softly as she released his lips, looking into his eyes as she spoke. “I was so scared. I thought I was gonna lose you.”

“Never,” he swore, his movements picking up slightly as he tried to press even harder into her. “I won’t leave you.”

She cried out as he began to thrust faster into her, her breasts bouncing with their movements.

“For as long as you want me, Bulma… I will always come back to you,” he hissed as he finally began to move urgently against her.

Bulma cried out loud at his deep and fast penetration, her core shuddering as he started pounding into her, his arms still holding her close to him.

He set his left hand back to cradle her breast, clutching its roundness in his palm as he heaved above her, vigorously moving within her, and Bulma ground herself as hard as she could against his pistoning hips.

“Vegeta!” she kept calling his name out as his body drove hers, pushing and pulling her into rapture as his eyes looked into hers, their lips meeting once more as he too began to pant harshly in bliss.

Bulma pressed herself desperately against him as her lips began spouting unintelligible words amidst the blinding pleasure of his touch.

“P-please,” she moaned, her hands clutching fistfuls of their sheets as her feelings began to overflow. It was too much, but she couldn’t get enough, could never get enough…

“Bulma… cum with me,” he enticed her, and his lips covered her mouth as she began to lose control, claiming the scream that bubbled up from deep within her soul.

“Vegeta! I… oh kami… I am so close!”

He released her breast as brought his arm to wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against him, close enough to feel his heart rioting against his chest.

“Bulma,” he rasped against her, staring into her eyes.

And finally, the mind-numbing pleasure that had built up inside her could no longer be contained, and she came with a shout, her eyes locked on his as she finally leapt off that zenith, her core fluttering sweetly against his hardness.

A few more thrusts and he too came, pressing his forehead onto her temple, eyes closing in bliss, as he emptied himself into her, shuddering as his release left him deliciously weak.

His arm supporting him began to give out, and he pulled her to his chest, before he pivoted until he was lying back on the bed, her sprawled across his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her.

She ran her fingers along the skin of his chest, marveling at the beauty of his skin, at the splendor that was Vegeta.

He was the first to speak, his voice soft and gruff as he basked in their afterglow.

“I am sorry if I worried you,” he said, his hand trailing lazy patterns on her skin.

“It’s alright. But I am never letting you go to the zoo, ever again,” she muttered, eyes closing in bliss as she felt his heart beating steadily within his chest.

“But I meant what I said, Bulma,” he continued, and Bulma looked up to see his jaw flex, throat bobbing as he spoke. “I will always come back to you.”

His voice was so soft, and she relished the sentimentality that he never showed anyone else, that he rarely showed even to her.

She smiled lovingly at him, and in a voice choked with emotion, answered.

“And I will always be here, only for you, my prince.”

8-8-8-8-8

END

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End Notes:

One episode of the English dub of DBS had Vegeta call Bulma ‘babe’, and he said the word so off-handedly that now I head canon that they call each other that sometimes.

And yes, I have fallen into the trap that is ‘sick Vegeta’, and I really enjoyed writing it! I thought that he wouldn’t be a very whiny patient, though I am pretty sure that Bulma would be all action-girl at the thought of her Veggie having the sniffles.

On Cancer: The very word usually invokes in my head the thought of disease, hence the sick Veggie trope. However, the Cancer symbol of the Crab actually denotes nurturing, feminine qualities, as Cancer is the caretaker of the zodiac. More details on Cancer and its symbol, the Crab, here.

Reference for the Cancer position here.

Feedback will be greatly appreciated!

[scarletraven1001]

Natural

Bulma takes Vegeta out on a trip to experience the natural beauty of the outdoors, to help him relieve some stress. However, Vegeta is more interested in relieving his stress via natural beauty of a different sort.

[A one-shot, for the February 2018 / Spring 2018 @tpthvegebulsmutfest. Day five: Waterfall.]

Also on Ao3.

 8-8-8-8-8

Natural

8-8-8-8-8

Vegeta had never been what one would call serene.

In fact, he would not be surprised if he found the word vegeta listed as the word’s antonym.

He was a chaotic bastard.

He enjoyed destruction and pandemonium. He thrived in battle and was a harbringer of death, himself. The mere whisper of his name had once sent millions of beings fleeing in frenzied terror, quivering at the prospect of his white boots settling on their grounds.

Which was why he found his current situation so laughably unbelievable.

He was currently wearing a loose white muscle shirt with training pants, seated on a blue and red checkered blanket in the middle of nowhere. He was in a small clearing surrounded by thick copses of tall trees and the insistent sound of thousands of wildlife. A few meters away from him was a river being fed by a short waterfall, clear water flowing down from a hill framed by more foliage.

He watched as the water falling from the hill splashed merrily into the river, licking at the rocks bordering the small narrow water form.

It was too… peaceful. Too fucking serene.

It was unnerving.

He still had no idea what they were even doing, since all he had been told before he had caved and agreed to come along, was that it was a surprise.

Bulma, the one who dragged him into this peculiar excursion, was currently leaning into the small round plane that they had used to reach the secluded area.

The blue-haired woman had her back to him, her short yellow sundress riding up her thighs as she tried to reach for something inside the vehicle.

Vegeta angled his body slightly to the right, a grin stretching his lips as she unwittingly showed off more of her creamy skin with her efforts. His eyes had narrowed lecherously, and he was just about to lean forward to get a better view when she turned around to face him.

His alien reflexes certainly paid off as he very quickly averted his eyes, turning his head away so as not to be caught peeping at his own wife. A dark flush rose to his cheeks, mortified at his own actions and at nearly getting caught ogling her.

Oh, the indignity.

The woman seemed clueless, as she was currently holding up the capsules she had been retrieving.

“Here they are!” she crowed triumphantly, brandishing her find.

“What exactly are we doing here, Bulma?” he asked, turning to glance at her out of the corner of his eye, not quite confident that his cheeks had indeed stopped burning.

“Well,” she began, “since you have been so busy with your training lately, I wanted to give you a chance to unwind.”

At this, she threw one of the capsules down to the center of the large blanket he was seated on, and a moment later, the little gadget released its contents with a tiny ‘pop’.

Vegeta blinked as he looked down at the veritable feast before him, and his mouth watered as he realized that the blanket was now laden with fruit, breads, and several varieties of meat and fish in an amazing assortment of recipes. Grilled, charbroiled, baked, pan fried and roasted, the smells assaulted him and he looked up at his wife – his beautiful, fantastic wife – with awed eyes.

“A feast?” he asked, hands clenching and unclenching as his stomach began to growl at him in sudden hunger.

“A picnic, actually,” Bulma laughed, sitting down across from him and picking up a bowl of grapes. “But I know that the usual picnic food wouldn’t even partially satisfy you, so I made this.”

“Pick nick?” he asked, not being familiar with the term.

Bulma picked up a grape and bit into it, and he took that as a signal to start digging in. Vegeta eagerly grabbed a roasted dinosaur leg and began to tear into it with gusto.

“It’s when you go out and have some food outdoors,” she explained. “In its most cliché form, you bring a basket of food and find a nice grassy park, then lay down a blanket like this one,” she patted the blanket they were sitting on.

Vegeta paused chewing to regard her. “Towards what purpose?”

“For fun, silly!” Bulma said as she picked up a bread roll and began to spread some strawberry jelly on it. “It’s to relax. Usually it’s done by families, or young couples on a date.”

“Why did we leave Trunks behind with Kakarot’s brat, then?”

“Because this is not a family outing, we are on a date! Our first date, if I am not mistaken.”

He nodded. So it was. He was still confused though as to why they journeyed 60 miles east of their home for this date.

Bulma seemed to have read his mind as she continued, “It’s supposed to be outdoors, and I wanted to go to a place that we’ve never been to before. Then I found this place, and I thought we should have the picnic here because it’s such a lovely spot.”

The two ate in comfortable silence for several minutes, until all the meat was gone and Bulma had also had her fill. When they were both full, Bulma stood, with Vegeta following suit. She encapsulated the remaining scraps of their food along with the blanket, then excitedly pulled Vegeta behind her until they stood at the river’s edge, a few meters away from the waterfall.

Bulma pulled out another capsule and threw it onto the floor, and when the smoke cleared, Vegeta found himself looking at a small, white, round gazebo. It reminded him of the one they had back at home, but this one had a clear, see-through sun roof, supported by delicate wooden beams. A small, simple flat bed was in the middle of the structure, just barely large enough to comfortably fit two people.

He turned to Bulma, a questioning look in his eyes. “Is it also customary to bring your own tiny house to these picknicks?”

“Nope,” she grinned cheekily. “But I wanted to lie back and relax here, and I sure as heck wasn’t gonna lie back on the hard ground for long.”

They entered the gazebo, and Bulma made Vegeta lie down on the narrow bed. When he had settled, Bulma crawled in after him, settling on his right side against him, her head on his chest, tucked under his chin. Her short blue hair tickled his chest, her breaths fanning gently over his skin. His right arm automatically wrapped around her waist, his other arm moving up to fold beneath his head.

Vegeta realized that they were both laying down with the waterfall before them, close enough that drops of water were pattering slightly on the clear roof of their little abode.

Bulma sighed against his chest. “Isn’t it romantic?”

He frowned, “What? The waterfall?”

“No,” she slapped his chest lightly in slight frustration. “You know, us, here, in the middle of nowhere, just the two of us, the sounds of nature all around us. It’s so peaceful here.”

She moved up so she was laying on her side, her head raised beside his as she leaned on her left arm to look down at his face.

“You have been so stressed from everything lately, so I wanted you to rest some,” she began. “I read somewhere that going out and enjoying nature can help relieve stress and anxiety. Beautiful views like this,” she motioned around them, “with the waterfall… it’s supposed to help you wash away your problems, cleanse you. Is it working?”

Vegeta looked into her hopeful eyes as he considered.

The sound of rushing water was indeed soothing, and the chirping and tittering of birds and other small animals provided a cheerful backdrop to the calming surroundings.

It was completely different from the bustle of the city wherein Capsule Corp was located, with not a single vehicle, building or other earthling human in sight.

True, he was not normally one to flourish in such undisturbed places, but when he truly considered, he could, with all honesty, probably say that he actually didn’t hate it.

“It is acceptable,” he answered, and Bulma beamed, a brilliant smile that lit up her whole face, before she once again laid down to burrow herself onto his side.

They lay together quietly for several minutes, taking in the beauty of nature, the sights and sounds of life away from the harsh artificial lights and mechanical sounds of civilization.

He could feel the heat of her body on his palm, through her sundress, and Vegeta clutched her waist tighter, possessively pulling her closer to him.

His woman really never did cease to amaze him.

Here they were, in a break away from their hectic lives, on a mini holiday she had planned all by herself, so that they could enjoy a few hours of tranquility.

He felt her small thin fingers move across his chest, drawing slow circles over his skin, and he reciprocated, letting his fingers trace the curve of her hip over the thin material of her clothing.

Vegeta was surprised when his small actions were followed by her scent suddenly spiking, a smirk stretching across his lips as he realized that, peace of nature be damned, his vulgar little wife was aroused, and he was damn well going to do something about it.

Without warning, he flipped them over, and he felt more than heard her startled gasp when he suddenly held her down against the softness of the small bed.

“Bulma,” he began, kneeling astride her closed legs, leaning over her, his hands gripping her waist on both sides. “Didn’t you say earlier that this trip was intended to relieve some stress?”

She was looking up at him with wide eyes, her lips parted, a light blush dusting her cheeks as he moved his fingers against her body in a slow, rhythmic massage.

He lowered his head to hers, his lips brushing against the lobe of her ear as he whispered in a voice roughened by his lust, “I know of another way to relieve stress.”

“Vegeta,” she whispered back and he heard slight apprehension in her tone. “We are outdoors!”

“What of it? We are miles away from civilization.”

His hand moved to her face, tilting her head up, before he planted a forceful, hungry kiss on her open mouth, his tongue immediately finding and tangling with hers.

Bulma moaned, and he cheered in his head as he felt her small hands reach for his chest once again, stroking him softly, her touch a strong contrast to the vigorous kiss their mouths were engaging in.

Though the nature surrounding them was indeed beautiful, Vegeta wanted to luxuriate in the natural beauty of his woman, so he pulled her up to sit on the bed, his hands frantically grasping at the clothing keeping her magnificence from his view.

He began to pull the clothing up, resisting the urge to incinerate the material in his hands as he wasn’t sure if Bulma had a spare set of clothes, and he didn’t much relish the thought of his wife having to go home in the nude. He would never hear the end of it.

He finally managed to pull her free from her dress, and his eyes greedily took in the sight of her in her underclothes. She had on a white lace bra and matching panties, and he reached back to deftly unhook her bra, sliding if off her chest, the straps trailing along her arms as the item was dropped onto the floor beside their bed. Her pink nipples jutted out from the center of her milky orbs, and Vegeta practically drooled in want.

Vegeta hurriedly pulled his shirt off, watching in satisfaction as Bulma eyed him eagerly, desire darkening her eyes to an intense shade of blue.

He stood back and stared at her for a moment, admiring the way the natural light filtering through the trees into their clearing highlighted the dips and curves of her lovely body.

He gripped the top of his pants and boxers to push the clothing off him, the cloth dropping to pool at his knees. He shifted his weight to one leg, then the other, as he pulled his clothing off, not daring to take his eyes off the woman before him.

Bulma stood upright on the bed, placing her hands on his shoulders for support as she slowly slid her panties down her long, slim legs. Vegeta breathed in through his nose as her scent washed over him when her smooth core was bared before him, level with his eyes, and he shuddered with lust as he saw that the pink folds he craved so much were already damp with her need.

He leaned back a little on his haunches as he pulled her down, his knees braced on the bed, slightly parted so he can have her sit on his lap with her legs straddling his own. Once she was settled, he lifted an arm to support her on the small of her back while his other hand rose to cup and enthusiastically massage one of her breasts.

Her wet heat was rubbing against his hardness as she moved with him, and Vegeta felt himself going rock-hard as she started mewling in delight against him.

He captured her lips in a short but deep kiss, then moved down to trail his mouth down her neck. He sucked harshly at her pulse point, feeling the wild beating of her heart against his tongue.

Bulma’s arms had wrapped around his neck as she pressed herself harder against him, still rubbing her soaking mound desperately against his erection. She had thrown her head back, offering her bare throat to him as he lavished her with hot licks and sharp nips, her small gasps and moans calling out to the most primal part of him that was now roaring with need for her.

He needed to be inside her, now.

Vegeta let go of her luscious breasts, both hands flying to hold her around the waist, then, with a sharp, abrupt yank, roughly impaled himself into her quivering core.

He heard himself release a guttural growl as Bulma keened, crying out his name, her voice echoing around the clearing.

He immediately began to pull her up and down his cock, her rounded buttocks slapping against the tops of his thighs as he made vigorous love to her in their little piece of outdoor heaven.

Her head lolled back, hands reaching out to grasp his powerful forearms as he bounced her repeatedly. She released a tiny, needy whine, and he lifted one hand to push her back so she was partway laying down, body bowed back as he continued thrusting into her.

Her hands released their death grip on his arms as she lost control and fell back, gasping, her legs frantically reaching out to wrap around his hips as her feet slipped and lost their traction on the soft mattress.

Vegeta didn’t pause in his thrusting, and he held her waist in both hands once again, pulling her hips to his repeatedly, slamming her against him as she shrilled wildly in helpless abandon.

Bulma’s hands flailed around until they finally fell onto the mattress, palms down, trying to hold her head up as he mercilessly pummeled her core with his hardness.

She was arched back, her breasts thrust up in the air, and Vegeta’s heated gaze marveled at how lewdly they bounced around her chest with their harsh movements and her heaving breaths.

“Vegeta! Oh! Please don’t stop!” she screamed at him pleadingly, eyes tightly closed as her head started falling, pressing against the bedding as her arms began to lose strength.

“Never,” he growled low as he jerked her body up so her hands were planted flat against the bed once again. “Not until you cum for me!”

Bulma groaned loudly, trying desperately to lift her head, and Vegeta watched as her blue orbs fought to meet his dark gaze as he pounded relentlessly into her frail body.

“Ah! Ah! Aaaah!” she screamed stutteringly, one hand lifting to hold on to his knee, needing to touch him. “Oh! Vegeta! Oh kami… I need it!”

“Then take it,” he growled low, pushing even harder against her, and he found himself also leaning down as he too realized that he wanted to look into her eyes as she drowned in the pleasure he gave her.

“Oooh… yes!” she howled  as his hands travelled up from her waist to hold her upper body up, gripping her near her smooth armpits, supporting her as she lost control against him.

He felt her legs tremble around him, her limbs stiff against his lower back as he felt the deep shudders begin to course through her body, a tell-tale sign that she was very, very close to the edge.

She began to chant his name, broken, choked up syllables, her needy voice washing over him as he too felt the beginnings of his release as the sensations built up within his core.

She was sobbing now, and he was panting hard, sweat dripping down their bodies as they arched, reached for that delicious apex of ecstasy.

Bracing her body with one hand, he reached down and pressed his thumb against her swollen clit…

Bulma screamed, a sound ripped from her very soul, shaking violently in his arms. Her eyes were tightly closed as she reached her peak, arms losing strength and falling away, letting her head fall back against the bed as she shattered against him.

Her walls convulsed wildly around him, and unable to hold back, Vegeta roared, an animalistic need to let the world hear him claiming her washing over him as he emptied himself into her willing body.

His knees buckled and he fell forward, slumping bonelessly against Bulma, who had all but sprawled across the tiny bed, staring blindly up at the blue sky through the clear roof of their gazebo.

“Wuh... wow,” she breathed out, voice holding a slight twinge of disbelief. “Vegeta, that… wow!”

He grinned as he moved up her body, lazily licking her nipple as he slithered upwards, until he could lean down and look into her face.

That face… How he treasured that face.

“Tch,” he sneered, even as he curled around her protectively, his arms shielding her from the cool air surrounding them.

“I guess,” she struggled to speak through her rough panting, “that was some major stress-relief, huh.”

He chuckled from deep within his chest, tightening his arms around her.

“And outdoor sex! I never thought you would agree, never mind initiate it!” she said, still breathless.

“Woman, do you mind? I am trying to enjoy the silence of nature,” he taunted her, peering up at her face as she pouted at him.

“Oh sure. Be like that. See if I ever take you out on a picnic again.”

8-8-8-8-8

END

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End Notes:

I was using this app the other day that makes soothing nature sounds to help you fall asleep. I found that one option was a waterfall, so I figured, relaxing beside an actual waterfall, with the sights and sounds of actual nature, should be awesome. I guess it would be even better if I had my own Saiyan to cuddle with, lol!

This is my shortest ever one-shot, and was barely edited. I almost didn’t finish it, coz real life decided to suck, and adulting is hard. :(

Also, I almost had them do the dirty on the blanket, but I just thought that the Bulma in my head probably wouldn’t be very open (heh) to being on the hard ground. :D

Reference for the Waterfall position here.

Feedback will be greatly appreciated!

[scarletraven1001]

Signs

For all his brains, brawn, and battle genius, Vegeta certainly seemed to know very little about himself. Bulma wants to learn more about her very mysterious husband, and what better place to start than to find out when he was born?

After all, she can’t give him “birthday sex” if she didn’t even know his birthday.

[A post-Buu saga fic, one-shot.

For the February 2018 / Spring 2018 @tpthvegebulsmutfest. Day four: Scorpio.]

Also on Ao3.

 8-8-8-8-8

Signs

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The further that Bulma delved into her studies, the more she was convinced that Vegeta was a Scorpio.

She sat up and stretched, the bones around her shoulders releasing a satisfying pop as she tried to relieve the soreness in her joints.

Her eyes were bloodshot, nose red from her rubbing as she had sneezed all night at the dust from the old astrology documents that she had buried her face into in her search for answers.

She was absolutely committed to finding out about when, exactly, her husband was born.

8-8-8-8-8

Her curiosity started while at a gathering at Capsule Corps’ newest facility.

One of her factory supervisors had asked her if she would mind if he proposed marriage to his girlfriend, a fellow employee, at the party.

Bulma, romantic-at-heart that she was, had gleefully agreed.

The man had indeed gotten down on one knee to propose, and the woman had accepted. The excited crowd asked the flustered and giddy girl for a few words, and she had laughingly joked that she had known they were meant to be together since she found out that his zodiac sign was a perfect romantic match for hers.

After the party, tipsy from one too many flutes of champagne, Bulma had sought out her perfect romantic match.

She found Vegeta in the kitchen, making himself a late night snack. She leaned on the doorway, arms crossed, biting her bottom lip as she stared at him appreciatively from the back.

His dark hair stood unmoving atop his head, the muscles on his arms flexing slightly from his movements as he spread god-knows-what on the slices of bread before him, making a mountainous sandwich.

His shapely butt dragged her eyes down, following the glorious curve from his waist, and Bulma could practically feel his smooth skin under her fingertips.

Shaking herself from her lusty stupor, she walked up to him from behind, knowing that he had been aware of her presence before she even found him, but was humoring her attempts at stealth.

She slung herself across his back, hands wrapping around his waist from behind, then cheekily leaned up to blow softly into his ear.

“Hey stranger,” she purred seductively, watching the fine hairs at the back of his neck rise in response to her closeness. “What’s your sign?”

He turned to her, eyes intense but bemused. “My what?”

“Your sign. You know. Zodiac. Like, I’m a Leo,” she said, pulling her head back slightly to peer into his face.

“You are a lion?” he asked uncertainly, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“No,” she shook her head with a chuckle. “My sign is Leo. Coz my birthday is on August 18.”

She loosened her arms around him as Vegeta turned to her fully. “I do not understand what you are talking about,” he began, a hand wrapping around her wrist that now rested on his hip. “I know of your birthday, you make a ridiculously big deal of it every year. What is this sign you speak of?”

“The zodiac. The date of your birth falls under a particular sign, and all those under this sign have common personality quirks,” she explained. “Like for me; Leos are creative, passionate, funny-”

“Are they also arrogant, stubborn and self-centered?”

“Asshole,” she muttered, and he just answered with a teasing smirk.

“I get the idea now,” he said, taking a bite of his sandwich. “But I do not know mine.”

“Well, when is your birthday? We can tell from that. And now that I think about it, you never told me when your birthday is,” she mused, eyes narrowing slightly in intrigue.

“I never told you, woman,” he said shoving the last of his sandwich into his mouth, “because I do not know.”

She blanched. “What? Seriously?”

“How could I possibly know such a thing? I was gestated in a pod, then presented to my father a few days after my maturation. The exact dates were not exactly vital information to us Saiyans. Additionally, even if I were to know, the dates I am more familiar with would have been in a different calendar than the one you use here on earth.”

“I asked you before and you didn’t answer me, you just distracted me til I forgot to ask again,” she groused.

His lips lifted into a grin, a lascivious spark in his eyes, as he recalled, “I believe I was in the middle of giving you your annual ‘birthday sex��, as you call it, when you asked.”

“I bet that the birthday sex is the primary reason why you remember my birthday.”

“Perhaps,” he answered, his arms wrapping around her, before he leaned down and kissed her senseless, distracting her already clouded, tipsy mind with his body and tongue so thoroughly that she had once again dropped the subject in an instant.

However, she was determined to find out this time. She brought it up again while they were sweaty and tiredly sprawled across each other, which Bulma had long ago discovered was the best time to ask Vegeta for anything, as he mellowed considerably, post orgasm.

She preferred to believe that this was due to her being so cosmically amazing in bed, that even the Prince of Grumps was helpless against her charms.

His eyebrows had practically met on his forehead as he scrunched his face hard, trying to recall certain things that could help them determine when he was born.

8-8-8-8-8

It turned out that Vegeta knew more than he realized, and he had given her just enough information to help her cross-reference dates and cosmic events to find the date, or at least the approximate date, of his birth.

She had spent several days researching and studying astrological concepts and astronomical anomalies in her quest for information.

At that moment then, as she stretched her arms and began to stand, she was convinced, certain, even, that she had finally found the correct date, and with her genius brain, Bulma knew that the margin of error was likely very minimal.

Based on the approximate location of Vegeta-sei, relative to the solar system, as well as the specific cosmic events that he had relayed to her, she had deduced that Vegeta was born less than 365 days before she was. Perhaps not on the same calendar year, but they were born within a year of each other.

Further calculations have narrowed it further: the sun, at the time, had just entered the vicinity of the Scorpio constellation.

Which meant that Vegeta was born sometime towards the end of October, and as she had delved more into it, arrived at the conclusion that the date would be between the 25th to the 31st.

Her husband was a Scorpio.

Fittingly, like their son, Trunks.

It certainly figured that the two, who were basically color negative images of each other, would even share the same stubborn sun sign.

Bulma chuckled to herself as she thought about it, before she finally stood, ready to call it a night.

Vegeta was still in his training room when she turned in, so she washed and dressed in a simple thin nightgown, but she realized that she was too tired to wait up for him, and she felt her lids grow heavy with sleep.

A few hours later, a softly muttered curse, followed by the dipping of the left side of the mattress, roused her from her light sleep.

“Late night training, eh,” she muttered as the shifting body of her husband laid down beside her with a tired huff.

“I was trying to formulate a new training regimen for Trunks,” he answered, before he turned to lie on his side, an arm reaching out to pull her close to him on the bed. He was only in his boxers, as he usually was when going to sleep, and Bulma keenly felt his body heat through his bare skin.

She happily snuggled into his broad chest, breathing in his manly scent, the feelings of security within his arms soothing her as she looked up to peer into his face.

“Really now?” she asked softly.

“Yes. That insolent boy has been skipping his katas because he is so fixated on messing around on that infernal gaming machine that you got him for his birthday.”

Bulma perked up. “Hey, Vegeta,” she began, slightly moving away from his embrace to lean over him, bracing herself on one elbow planted beside his torso. “Speaking of birthdays, I think I already know yours!”

His eyebrow arched up as he regarded her, “Really? Impressive, woman.”

“Well, I am a genius,” she bragged, “and I know your zodiac sign, too!”

“Let me hear it then,” he said, a corner of his lips lifting in amusement. “I wish to know so I could reap the rewards annually, as you are so fond of doing.”

She smiled cheekily, “Per my ridiculously complicated calculations, you, Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, were born as the month of October ends, between the 25th to the 31st. We could celebrate it on the 28th, to make it smack dab in the middle of the estimated dates. What do you think?”

“Acceptable. That is barely two weeks apart from Trunks’s birthdate.”

“Yep! And that’s another thing: like Trunks, you are a Scorpio!”

“My sign is that of a venomous arachnid?” he smirked. “I like it.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Bulma protested. “I read up on the personalities of Scorpios and it is so ridiculously you that I was just validated that my calculations were correct.”

“And what exactly is a Scorpio supposed to be like?”

“Well,” Bulma began “Scorpios are very intense, and possessive-”

“I only wish to assert my right over those that belong to me,” he answered, an arm tightening around her, his brows wagging naughtily.

“Oh hush, I’m not done,” she scolded, even as a free hand went to caress his chest in unconscious response to his flirting. “As I was saying... They are possessive, and can be jealous, which triggers their vindictive sides.”

“I am not jealous,” he argued.

“Vegeta, you are totally the jealous type. You scared off the mailman because you thought he was too close while he handed me my mail.”

“Proceed,” he acquiesced, his cheeks slightly reddened.

“At their best, they are resourceful, constant, and enduring…” Bulma continued, “but at their worst, can be cold, distrustful and obsessive.”

“I suppose these traits truly are definitive of me.”

“They are passionate… and unrestrained in the bedroom…” she said, her eyes locking on to his as she gave him a suggestive grin.

“I suppose the number of bed frames we have destroyed in the past can attest to the ‘unrestrained’ part,” he gave her an answering smirk.

“Also, they are…” at this, her grin turned serious, a soft smile touching her lips. “extremely protective, loyal, and faithful.”

“But,” she kept on saying, her heart leaping into her throat. “If they get too calm and comfortable in a relationship, they will find ways to stir up trouble.”

He looked down at her hand on his chest at this, seemingly embarrassed to meet her eyes.

She knew what they were both thinking about: the battle with Buu, where Vegeta had turned to the dark side to find his old, evil self again, because he was uneasy with how he had grown fond of his life on earth and his family.

“Bulma,” he breathed her name uncertainly. “I hope you know that I am… beyond that, now.”

She smiled softly at him at that, putting a finger under his chin to push his head up so they were face to face. “Well, I can’t say I blame you. I also read up on Leo’s romantic compatibility with Scorpio, and it was exactly what happened to us. When we started, we didn’t really know what to expect, and it wasn’t easy because we are both stubborn-”

“You more than I.”

“Blasphemy,” she shot back. “But anyway. Now, I think we understand each other well enough and respect each other so we can deal with our doubts more easily.”

Vegeta’s lips quirked up on one corner, and it made her heart skip a beat, because that beautiful little movement was the tiny smile that he only ever showed her. The one full of uncertainty, and the affection he was still hesitant to show her.

His eyes suddenly shot down, and she realized that her top had ridden down enough in her movements that she was now blessing him with a very generous view of her chest.

His eyes narrowed, a mischievous grin touching his lips, as he lifted his gaze to meet hers, his eyes shining with lust.

“Well. Now that you know my birthday, don’t you think that we should be making up for lost time?” he asked huskily.

“Lost time?”

“Yes,” he hissed softly. “We have been together for nearly a decade. And while I have indulged you every year, I now choose to claim your debts in bulk.”

She had an idea of where this was going. “Oh? And what debts are those?”

“I wish to claim my overdue ‘birthday sex’ sessions,” he leered, his arms loosening around her as he began to slide sinuously down her body. “and I demand that we begin making up for the missed celebrations, right now.”

He dipped down, and Bulma gasped in surprise when she felt his teeth clamp down none-too-gently on the side of her neck. His tongue immediately followed, soothing the playful bite, and she arched against him in delight when she felt his hands begin to explore, one of them sneakily reaching up to cup her breast through her clothing.

Vegeta seemed rather worked up, she could feel it in how his caresses were a touch too fast, a little too hard, but all too delightful. He dragged his strong hands down to her legs, catching the bottom of her gown. He pressed the material close to her skin as he began to pull it up over her head, his warm fingers stroking her skin as he undressed her.

When the gown was over her head and she was trying to free her arms, he quickly swooped down and captured her nipple into his hot mouth, and Bulma mewled softly as she felt him begin to suck, every thought in her head becoming muddled as the sensations brought chills up and down her body.

She struggled to free her arms from the gown, eager to touch him, to reciprocate the feelings he was quickly stirring up in her.

He reared up, but instead of releasing her from the restraining material, he smirked, grabbing onto the bunched up cloth and pulling, making a tight, makeshift cuff around her wrists. He leaned closer to her, his breaths fanning against her face, before he captured her lips in his, his tongue forcing its way past her lips as he tasted her, devoured her through her mouth.

She moaned loudly against him, arching up to rub her stiff, aching nipples against his bare chest.

One of his hands clutched her waist, digging into her skin, the sharp feel of his fingers against her soft flesh pulling a harsh, pleasured gasp from her.

“Vegeta,” she whispered his name against his lips, her eyes closed as she focused on the feel of his power surrounding her, his large body covering her smaller form.

She felt him lift himself from her body and she instantly felt the cold air seep into her bones at the loss of his heat. She opened her eyes, watching in delight as her perfectly-formed husband kneeled beside her hips, his hungry eyes roving her form as he pushed his boxers down to his knees.

Her gaze traveled down to his erect member, admiring his body while he somehow extricated himself from his underwear. She hurriedly tugged her arms free from her nightgown, then sat up slightly, leaning back on her elbows as she let her own eyes drink in his naked perfection.

He was magnificent and he knew it, and thus had always been very proud of his physique. Even during their very first encounters, he had never shied away from showing off his body, and today was no different.

She both sensed and saw his smirk as she continued her very obvious admiration of his every dip and angle.

Those hard, chiseled muscles of his arms were absolutely to die for. Her eyes took in the luscious sight of his chest, seemingly etched from marble, then down to his firm abdominals that were so deliciously beautiful that she wanted to rub her cheeks across them and take a long lick.

He was quite an amazing eyeful, and not for the first time, Bulma sent a quick prayer up to kami to thank him for awarding her this morsel as her husband.

“See something you like, woman?” he joked, putting a hand on his hip, drawing her eyes to the delightful diagonal indentations leading down to his center.

“Oh yes,” she purred, laying back on her arms in invitation, a similar challenge in her eyes as she saw him leer at her unabashedly.

She was puzzled when, instead of heeding her call and coming to her, he moved further away, hunching over her hips. He fingered the garter of her panties before he used a single finger on either side of her thighs to push the scrap of cloth down her legs.

Vegeta leaned down then, placing a hot, open mouthed kiss on the tops of her thighs, following the path that his fingers drew down her legs. His lips followed immediately after her panties, licking and kissing every inch of her legs that the cloth passed over until he reached the tips of her toes.

He was now turned away from her, his buttocks squatted beside her waist as his mouth traveled downwards.

Bulma moaned deeply at his attentions, her legs quivering as he moved his lips down, as his hands stroked and teased, until his tongue snuck out and licked eagerly around her toes, pulling her big toe into his mouth and sucking hard.

She gasped as the feel of the suction reverberated through her, and she panted out his name as he released her feet, pulling himself back up and closer to her.

He then settled himself so his head was close to her crotch, a delicious thrill running up and down her spine when his large hands grabbed her hips, and he pulled her up to level her core with his face.

Vegeta then started to lay down, his feet up over her head and pushing up against the headboard, and she understood immediately that he wanted her to touch him with her mouth when he positioned himself so her face was close to his throbbing member.

She scooted down slightly so that her face was flush with his hips, and she shuddered when she felt his hot breath fan over her core. She pushed his hips down until he lay on the bed on his side, and she lay sideways as well, until their centers were pressed intimately against each other.

Bulma felt his fingers tracing her lower lips she wrapped her thin fingers around him. She bent her knee to give him further access as she pushed his leg up to bend above her as well.

She then felt him lift up her bent leg, slinging it over his arm as his hand found and tightly clutched the soft flesh of her buttocks. He pushed his face closer to her, and Bulma hissed when she felt his hot breath blowing into her core.

Bulma followed his lead, looping an arm around his raised leg until her fingers found the soft sacks hanging between his thighs.

She heard Vegeta groan deeply, a sheer second before she felt his mouth find her womanhood.

She leaned closer to him and reached to pull him so that his tip was against her lips, and she placed tender kisses along his length as his tongue pushed past her labia to find and torture her clitoris.

She pulled him into her mouth as far as she could while his tongue plunged into her core. She moaned deep in her throat, knowing that the vibrations of her voice brought him pleasure as she loved him with her mouth.

She adjusted her angle so that her jaw was slack against him, his tip going into her throat. He was so large and powerful all throughout, and his cock was no different, hard and veined and so deliciously arousing.

She felt his lips suckling her nub as he plunged two fingers into her and she lost her concentration for a moment, her throat rippling as she gagged slightly with him still in her mouth.

His balls bounced against her nose when he thrust his hips against her in his rapture, while she felt herself begin to drip in desire from the sheer magnitude of bliss that he gave her through his hands and mouth.

Bulma moved her mouth up and down faster, lightly running her teeth along his length as her wet mouth took him in deep. Vegeta was close, she could feel it in the way his thighs shook slightly in her grip, and she doubled her efforts as she felt him wag his tongue within her in a devastating fast motion that made her entire body flush in desire.

He then reached up, then without warning, pinched her clitoris, hard.

She shattered then, a scream ripping from deep inside her throat as he suddenly thrust himself against her, and in spite of the overwhelming bliss she was in, she wrapped her fingers around the base of him and gave him a hard squeeze as she sucked madly on his tip.

Vegeta roared as he spilled himself into her, and she soothed him by running her soft hands around the firm roundness of his butt, gently calming him after his release.

They stayed like that for a few moments, softly touching and caressing each other as they basked in the high of their orgasms. Bulma kissed his abdomen gently while his hands reached for as much of her skin as he could stroke, both languidly exploring intimately familiar territory that remained exciting, no matter how many times they touched.

After a while, Vegeta got up, his thick arms holding him up as he crawled back up her body until they were face to face once more.

He cupped her cheek in his hand as he leaned down and met her lips with his once again, their tongues leisurely wrapping around each other, tasting each other, as his questing hands moved to hold her hips down against the mattress.

She felt him nudging her, and she let him move her until he had rolled her over so she was face down on the bed.

He settled his body over hers, his weight on his arms at their sides, as he buried his face into the nape of her neck, the tip of his nose nudging her skin through the strands of her short blue hair.

One of his hands moved to slide under her stomach, as he easily supported himself on one outstretched arm, his corded muscles not even straining under his weight.

His hand on her began to explore, teasing her, his forefinger drawing circles around her belly button as she sighed in bliss.

His lips were on her nape, leaving soft kisses on her skin, his hot breath just barely brushing her.

He lowered himself and began to grind his rapidly hardening erection against her buttocks, parting her cheeks slightly, his wet tip taunting her with the promise of pleasure.

“Oh… Vegeta. That feels so good,” Bulma sighed as he started grinding against her harder, his hand on her stomach dipping lower to caress her nub. She spread her legs beneath him, urging him to enter her, and she felt his hand on her mound move back to her stomach, pulling her up so she was on her knees and elbows before him.

The Saiyan reached up and grabbed a pillow, then another one, and she watched as he piled the fluffy linen underneath her so she was lying on her stomach on them, her legs bent at the waist behind her. Her arms were stretched out before her, bracing herself up, her hands tangled in the sheets.

She felt him stretching behind her, maneuvering his body so it looked like he was about to do a set of push-ups. His legs were straight behind him, his toes supporting his weight from behind as he straightened his arms and braced them on either side of him.

His face came close to hers, from behind, and she felt his lips kiss her jaw, then her cheek, and she turned her head sideways to face him, her lips hungrily meeting his once again in a passionate lip lock that left her breathless with need when he suddenly pulled away.

He nuzzled her, inhaling deeply, his nose tucked into her unruly hair, before his hot mouth moved and she felt his teeth lightly nip her ear.

“Open yourself to me, Bulma,” he growled, and she spread her legs wide as he bore down on her hips, him vigorously grinding his length against her lower lips.

He lifted one arm away from the bed, holding his member as he guided himself into her waiting core.

Bulma’s breath caught as she realized that Vegeta had only entered her with his tip. He was still lightly grinding his hips against her ass, and she could feel his powerful hips holding his body over her. He was in her, but not fully, and she tried to buck against him to lure him in.

His position over her gave him a lot of control over their movements, and she heard him chuckle darkly in her ear as he simply held her hips down against her pillows with one hand while she mewled helplessly beneath him, calling out his name in desperation, imploring him to fill her like she needed him to.

“Vegeta please… I need you so bad,” she whined, leaning her head back as she tried to look into his heated eyes.

She should have known that her cocky bastard of a husband, who could easily do hundreds of one-handed push-ups, could effortlessly hold this position just to aggravate her.

“Didn’t you say earlier,” he rasped against her, his hard chest draping across her back as he leaned over her, dominating her body, “that my sign is possessive… obsessive?”

What the hell was he doing, bringing that up now?

She nodded her answer, her chest heaving from frustration.

“Your sources are accurate, Bulma,” he continued, his hips still rotating maddeningly against her posterior. “I truly am possessive. And I need you to appease me.”

She groaned, “Please, Vegeta. Anything…”

“Tell me then,” his arm on her hip traveled up to her chest, and she threw her head back with a hoarse shout as he roughly grabbed and squeezed her breast, his thumb pressing her nipple. “Who are you, and who do you belong to, woman?”

“Ah!” she cried.

“Answer me!” he demanded, his hand on her breast moving up to wrap his fingers around the base of her neck.

“Oh kami, Vegeta,” she nearly cried when she felt him pull out, only to push in so shallowly, taunting her. Her hands twisted convulsively into their sheets as the way he had her positioned kept her from lifting either arm to touch him.

“Tell me… I need to hear you say it,” he growled, the vibrations traveling across his chest and straight into her core.

“I… I am Bulma… Your Bulma!” she keened, her eyes seeking his yet again, wanting to see his face as she said it. “I am yours, Vegeta! Only yours!”

“As I am yours,” he rasped before he pulled his hips back and plunged himself back into her, his thrust so hard, fast and deep that she screamed, her core spasming wildly as his painfully delicious invasion made light burst behind her now tightly closed eyes.

His words registered in her head as he began to move frantically against her, and tears filled Bulma’s eyes, her heart full to bursting with emotion as his words ran in circles around her head.

As I am yours.

As I am yours.

She cried out his name as she pushed back against him, reveling in the feel of his hips grinding and slamming against her buttocks as he filled her over and over, deeper and deeper.

His balls slapped against her mound as his length drilled into her, and she felt the hand on her neck move to cup her jaw, pulling her face up so he could smash his mouth against her lips in a heated kiss that sent jolts of electricity to run through her limbs.

She groaned loudly against his lips, and she watched as his eyes closed tightly as he stopped kissing her, only to pant harshly against her ear while his powerful body worked to push them both off the edge, to fall off that pinnacle of rhapsody.

The sound of her moans and groans competed with the loud slapping of their skin, the musky fog of desire surrounding them rising higher as they raced to the finish.

Suddenly, Vegeta cried out, his arm supporting him giving out as he fell against Bulma, still furiously rutting against her, and Bulma felt his arms sneak down to her front, holding her against him as his breath rushed out of him in harsh pants.

He curled in around her form, and Bulma pushed her hips back against his own as she felt her release rise to the fore, the blinding pleasure taking over her body as she cried out his name, her core clenching wildly around him as her orgasm took hold of her once again.

Vegeta gasped, then stilled, and she felt the warmth of him fill her with liquid heat. He shuddered powerfully against her, unintelligible grunts and growls spilling from his lips, forcibly held back by his tightly gritted teeth.

Bulma smiled as she felt his weight lift from her back once he was through, lifting her up and gathering her in his powerful arms as he fell back heavily onto the bed. He lay on his back and she was draped over his chest, both panting loudly, and it felt like an eternity before either of them even had the strength to speak.

“So,” he said, his voice still slightly breathless. “I shall still be collecting on those debts. But perhaps,” he huffed out, “we can work on an installment basis.”

His offbeat humor never failed to surprise her. Bulma nearly choked on an inhale as she laughed hard, her eyes tearing up from her glee.

“Yeah, I guess we could do that,” she finally answered, pulling herself closer to him and nuzzling his chest, wide smile still plastered on her face. “We have a ways to go until October. We should have plenty of time before your next birthday.”

“Hnn,” he answered, and she felt his lips fall onto her head, kissing her hair. “Yes. And I expect my celebrations to be timely, from here on out.”

“Sure,” she answered, eyes fluttering closed as sleep overtook her.

Now that she knew his birthday and sign, she can definitely promise that she was going to be very prompt with the yearly birthday sex.

8-8-8-8-8

END

8-8-8-8-8

 End Notes:

I did some reading on the zodiac sign of Scorpio, and I found this gem.

Isn’t Vegeta just totally a Scorpio? Lol!

I got Bulma’s birthdate from here.

References for the Scorpio position here and here. 

Feedback will be greatly appreciated!

[scarletraven1001]

What I Want

Bulma knew that what they had may not be for keeps, but she was happy with Vegeta for now. When her feelings for him start to grow though, so do her uncertainties, as she realizes that she wanted what they had now to be permanent, and she wasn’t quite sure if Vegeta was on board.

A three-year gap fic. One shot.

A sequel to Worth (from the Fall 2017 Smutfest), but can stand alone.

For the February 2018 Spring @tpthvegebulsmutfest. Day three: Tornado

Also on Ao3.

8-8-8-8-8

What I Want

8-8-8-8-8

She wasn’t going to make it.

The abnormally strong winds had already swept up the entire main house. She had run to the bunker in a desperate bid to escape, but the door to the underground hideout was already rattling on its hinges, and she already knew that it was only a matter of time before even the strong seal of the reinforced metal door gave way and -

The screeching sound of metal pulled her from her reverie, and she realized that the metal door was already bending under the pressure, peeling away from the bottom up, looking as light as  paper being crumpled in her hands.

She screamed as the winds began entering the bunker, bringing its deafening force of destruction, and she moved to the farthest wall, trying to find something to hold on to in the small room.

In a flash, the entire room was gone, swept up in the roaring winds, and she looked around to find that she had somehow found herself in the very center of it all, the gales crushing and destroying everything around her while she remained hunched in on herself, hoping that the winds jump off and leave her be.

A pair of white, gold tipped boots entered her vision, and her eyes widened as her gaze swept up and found the powerful legs encased in blue, skin tight pants, and higher up to the muscular torso in white and gold armor, and finally, the intense face topped by wild, flame-like dark hair that stood steady amidst the chaotic winds surrounding them.

“Vegeta!” she shouted in despair, reaching a hand out to him, “help me!”

Her heart stopped when he merely smirked, as she suddenly felt herself being lifted up by the strong gales.

“You are on your own, woman,” he hissed, tilting his head back to watch as her form was swept up higher, higher, the tornado swirling around her as she tried in vain to reach for him.

“Please!” she screamed, beseechingly looking into his eyes, consumed by utter terror. She was going to die!

“Tch,” he spat, face turned up to watch her as she was helplessly swept away.

“Vegeta!” she called out one last time as the harsh winds dragged her up completely, thrashing her about in its merciless clutches.

The sudden stillness surprised her, and she opened fearful eyes to find herself staring up at a pale ceiling. She looked around and found that she was lying in bed in her own bedroom, safe within the confines of Capsule Corp’s thick walls.

It was just a dream. A nightmare.

There were no winds, no impending doom. There was nothing there.

Just her sweaty, naked form, tangled up in messy sheets.

She looked to her right, and was not surprised to find that there was nobody beside her.

Of course… Vegeta had left.

He never stayed with her. Never slept beside her, after having slept with her.

She sat up slowly, a hand going to her now pounding head, and sighed.

Things were getting out of hand. And she had a sinking feeling that it was all about to get worse.

She had been in trouble since he first looked into her eyes and she found the concern that was thickly veiled behind the darkness of his gaze. Since the first time he held her, the first time he kissed her. She just didn’t know it at the time.

She was content with what they had for now: the arguments and bickering between them, and the few rousing conversations when he let her in on his knowledge of space mechanics; The teasing and ribbing whenever he found her attempting to make something edible in the kitchen; The small smiles that touched his lips when she made improvements to his training regimen…

The unbelievably hot nights of passion…

She was having fun. And more than that… she was happy.

However, the unbelievable feelings he stirred up in her when he had her in his arms, when he growled her name in the throes of passion, when he was inside her, fucking her with so much fervor…

She understood why the sex, though mind-blowing from the very start, had been getting even more incredible.

She knew why her heart filled with so much joy when he gently held her face in his palms as he moved within her, when he whispered soft words against her lips as he slowly pleasured her body.

Why she so desperately wanted him to stay with her, after their heated nights together were over.

Bulma was falling in love with him.

And she felt sure, without a shadow of a doubt, that Vegeta would never allow himself to feel the same.

8-8-8-8-8

Bulma was elbow-deep in greasy machines and wiring when the door to her lab hissed open, and she felt that peculiar crackle in the air that accompanied him whenever he entered a room.

She looked up, and sure enough, Vegeta was there, slowly walking over to her, a frown marring his face as usual.

“Hey Vegeta. What’s up?” she asked, reaching for a rag to wipe her hands on in case he needed her help for something.

“I seem to have hit an impasse with my training,” he muttered.

“Eh?” she wiped her hands as she faced him. “What do you mean?”

“I am not progressing,” he answered, turning his head away, his eyes finding something to fixate on as he avoided looking at her. “I do not know what the problem is, but I know that I have gotten stronger, much stronger than Kakarot had been when he defeated Freeza.”

He looked at her then, and she could see the frustration and leashed fury hiding behind his dark eyes. “Yet, I still have not ascended. And I cannot comprehend why.”

She looked at him in concern, her eyes perusing his form. He was definitely larger than he used to be, his chest more filled out, his arms thicker, and she knew intimately that all that bulk was pure, hard muscle. He looked powerful enough to crush a tank with one fist.

By this point, he probably could.

So she too, was confused. He really should have attained Super Saiyan by now.

“I’m not sure why, either,” she answered, brows furrowed in thought. “All my readouts say that you really have gotten so much more powerful. You should have achieved it ages ago.”

“That is precisely why I believe that I am doing something wrong. I am missing something vital here,” he groused. “I need to find out.”

His frown deepened as he crossed his arms across his chest. “We have barely sixteen months before the doomsday that the future boy spoke about comes upon us. While I am positive that I won’t fall to those androids, I need to ascend to ensure that I destroy them.”

Bulma distractedly raised her hands to adjust her ponytail, tucking her straight, shoulder-length blue hair back into some semblance of order. “Do you have an idea what the problem could be? Anything you think I could help with?”

“I think,” he began, and Bulma’s heart skipped a beat as his face slackened into a deadpan expression. “I think I need a swift change. I have been static and this may be hindering me. Perhaps… Perhaps, I need to leave.”

Her heart plummeted down to her feet, leaving behind a lump that rose up to choke her.

He was still speaking in low, angry hisses, and she probably should have been paying attention, but the only thing her mind could process was the part where he said that he was going to leave.

Sorrow, unlike anything she had ever felt before, filled her from head to toe, and she felt like she was drowning in so many unwelcome emotions all at once.

He was leaving.

Vegeta was leaving.

Her heart began to hammer in her chest, and she knew that no matter what the outcome of this would be, she had to be strong, to show him the part of her that was tough and independent. She can’t ever let him see how much his leaving would affect her.

She was Bulma god-damn Briefs. She had a reputation to keep.

“Woman, are you listening to me?” he demanded, an affronted look on his face, and she realized that what he said may actually need a response.

“Yes, of course,” she replied, tossing back another stubborn strand of hair. “Yes, yes, go ahead.”

Vegeta stared confusedly at her then. “You are certain?”

“Yeah, sure!” she said in what she hoped was an offhand way, waving a hand dismissively before her. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

He stared at her apprehensively, and she thought that maybe she had missed something here.

“Alright,” he said finally. “How long would you need to get the space ship ready?”

She realized immediately that he was leaving earth.

He wasn’t just going to fuck off to the dessert or something like Yamcha had, or to the mountains like the Sons.

He was going into fucking outer space.

She needed to sit down.

Bulma gathered her thoughts while her hand reached out to pull a chair to herself.

“Give me two weeks,” she answered, almost in a daze, a fake smile plastered on her face. “The ship you used last time isn’t in working condition, and the ship with the gravity room installed is grounded, so I need to rework some circuitry before any of them would be fit for travel again.”

He nodded, then turned to leave, and Bulma was stunned when he hadn’t even nagged her to make it fast, or demanded that he needed to leave right away. She was half expecting an argument.

“So, that’s alright with you then?” she called out after him.

He turned halfway towards her, nodded again, then went on his way.

Bulma was even more confused, now.

8-8-8-8-8

The week went by in a flurry of activity as Bulma worked tirelessly on the space ship. It reminded her of that time after she and Yamcha had broken up for good, and she had buried herself into her machines like there was no tomorrow.

Remembering those times also reminded her of who exactly had been there for her back then.

Vegeta had helped her work through her sadness in the most unexpected ways. Dragging her off to eat, making sure that she got up every now and then to sleep… he had been so unexpectedly good to her and she knew that she would not have been able to cope with those difficult times had he not been there to help her through it all. He had built her up, made her feel strong and important once again.

And now he was leaving.

Who would help her this time?

She had never been a particularly clingy woman. In fact, nearly all of the breakups with Yamcha before, she was the one who had initiated. She never needed anyone. She was fine on her own, always had been, and the devastation of her previous breakup, in hindsight, was more from the feeling of being cheated on and less on the sadness of actually losing him.

So, her feelings now confused her.

She didn’t really need Vegeta. She had more than enough beauty and brains to find herself a boyfriend, if she wanted. It wasn’t like he was even her boyfriend, per se. They weren’t even really dating.

But she wanted him to stay. Wanted it so bad, she could taste it.

Probably wanted it as bad as he wanted to ascend.

And knowing how much her wanting him to stay devastated her, she knew that she couldn’t, in good conscience, possibly keep him from leaving to find that missing piece of the puzzle that he needed to break out of his current slump and turn Super Saiyan.

Yet, as miserable as she was about his approaching departure, possibly the worst thing in all this was how he had stayed away from her in the past week.

After the first time they slept together, both had sworn up and down that it was only going to be a one-time thing – to scratch an itch, to get it out of their systems. She had gone to his room, and even told him then that he could opt to never come near her again after they were done, if he chose to.

He had come to her two nights later, and they fell into bed once again. Then she had gone to him again the following night, and he had gone to her to indulge in each other’s bodies nearly every night after that.

So, this strange avoidance harkened back to those times when he had first taken residence with her family. It was like they had gone back to square one: she building him equipment, and he training as he ignored everyone around him.

She missed him already.

It didn’t help that she was continuously suffering through nightmares in the few hours when she had decided to try to get some sleep. The stupid dream with the stupid tornado plagued her everytime she dared close her eyes, and every single dream ended with her being swept up  to her death and Vegeta just impassively watching her fly into her doom.

She avoided sleeping, and thus spent more time in her lab.

With her days filled with nothing but the space ship, she realized with a sinking feeling that she was going to finish her upgrades earlier than expected.

The damn machine was going to be ready for him in two more days, max.

She had half a mind to keep that fact to herself until the specified two weeks was over. She could certainly be selfish enough;  Even though they had not been together in the past few days, she felt more reassured by the fact that she knew he was just there, can feel his energy nearby.

But she also wanted him to succeed. And the sooner he started, the sooner he could ascend. Because she was sure that he could do it. He was meant for it. She could feel it.

Bulma sighed, before heading to the freezing device that she had made specifically to preserve the massive amounts of food that she knew he was going to need to survive in space. She had almost finished those as well, as each finished meal was encapsulized after the preservation process. She made enough food for exactly fifteen months, the amount of time left before the androids were due to appear. It was her subtle way of telling him that she wanted him to come back to earth before then.

God dammit. She just needed to install the water heater. She was done here.

She walked over to the communication machine that linked directly into the training room that Vegeta was using. She had not used that module at all in the past week, avoiding him as much as he was apparently avoiding her.

She pressed the button to patch her through, and in a few seconds, his image came onto her screen, her heart banging against her chest as she looked straight into his face again after a whole week without seeing him up close.

“Vegeta, I need to talk to you,” she said, and his features pinched in agitation.

“I am coming,” was all he said, before the line went dead.

It took all of a minute before he was before her, shirtless, sweaty and short of breath from his heavy workout.

“What is it, woman?” he asked, arms crossed.

“I have some good news,” she began, smiling lightly. “I have finished the needed maintenance and upgrades on the ship. I am just working on stocking it up with food and other essentials, and…”

She found herself choking slightly as she said her next words.

“And… you can leave in two days,” she finished, forcing herself to smile wider at him, to appear giddier, more enthusiastic.

She expected him to react differently than how he actually did.

His brows furrowed deeper, his arms releasing from their place across his chest as his fists clenched at his sides.

“Is that all?” he growled.

“What?” she asked, confused. “Well, yeah. I thought you’d be glad to know.”

“That is it then?”

“What else is there, Vegeta?”

His eyes narrowed, and she shuddered at the look he was giving her.

He didn’t look angry at her… but there was something else, something she could not identify.

“What else, indeed, Bulma?” he snarled, the venom in his voice surprising her. “Surely there really is nothing else.”

She was confused by his reaction. “Vegeta, are you angry? I thought you’d be happy that you could go to space earlier than expected!”

“I am delighted, woman!” he snarled, before turning away from her, stomping out of the lab, leaving her slack-jawed.

Bulma shook herself, almost disbelieving that the conversation that had taken place was even real.

“What the fuck was that just now?”

8-8-8-8-8

Hours later, Bulma still could make neither heads nor tails out of the conversation she had with Vegeta. She tried to find him, looking for him in the training room and in all the places he usually frequented, but he was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t in any part of the compound, at all.

It wasn’t until very late that evening, when she was already getting ready for bed, wearing a tank top with loose pajama pants, that Bulma felt the tell-tale signs of the approaching Saiyan. That same crackle that she could feel in the air whenever he came into a room signaled his return, and she once again pondered how, in the vast sea of people in the universe, he was the only one she could feel giving off a signal like this. He was not the only ki user she knew, but he was the only one she could sense with such overwhelming accuracy. She could feel his presence, like a flare, and she was helpless to do anything but reach for him, find him.

She did just that, following his energy until she felt him in his bedroom. He had the doors closed, but as she was about to knock, her heartbeat sped up, and she hesitated.

‘What am I even doing here?’ she asked herself, before releasing a heavy breath and turning away from the door, going back to her bedroom.

She locked the door and went to sit on her bed, leaning down and holding her head in her hands. She can’t help but wonder why this was so hard… why she was stupid enough to let herself feel too much for a man whose heart was so ridiculously unavailable.

Loud banging interrupted her thoughts, and she straightened when she realized that it was her bedroom door. Someone was knocking, no, battering her door, and she felt the pulse of ki that let her know exactly who it was.

She opened the door for him, taken aback when she saw how surprisingly bleary-eyed he looked. His eyes were sunken, his cheeks flushed, his normally immovable hair unruly. His bare chest was heaving, hands fisted on his sides.

“What did you want?” he asked roughly, pushing past her as he entered her room without waiting for an invitation.

“Wha -  Vegeta?”

“You were outside my chambers. Why? What did you come for that you were too cowardly to come in and ask me about?”

“Ex-excuse me?!” she sputtered, rage erupting from her chest. She had been ignored for an entire week, and he had the gall to call her a coward?

“You heard me, woman,” he hissed in a soft voice full of rage. “Did you finish the repairs? Were you about to ask me to go and fly off to space tonight?”

Something in the way he asked her this, in a voice nearly choked with resentment, made warning bells resound in her head.

Could it be that she really was missing something here?

“I have almost finished the ship, and you can leave in two days. I told you this,” she said, some of her anger leaving her as those feelings of confusion clouded her mind again.

“Good,” he said, turning to leave.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Without putting much thought into it, she reached forward and grabbed his arm, “Wait!” she cried out, and he froze, turning to her slightly to regard her out of the side of his eye.

“I… I don’t understand. Why are you so angry? Was it -” she gulped hard at the piercing look in his eyes. “Was it something I did?”

“No,” he answered quickly. Too quickly. “It was not something you did.”

“Then why?!” she demanded, pulling at him, her own fury returning. “Why are you doing this? Why have you been avoiding me?” she asked hoarsely, and to her relief, he turned to face her then.

“I… I did as you wanted,” she started, and much to her consternation, she felt tears, borne from her confusion and anger, start to gather at the edges of her eyes. “I fixed the ship. I… I did it as fast as I can.”

“I know,” he sneered, the edges of his lips lifting as if in a snarl, but Bulma saw, in his eyes, not anger… she just can’t quite grasp what it was.

His next words froze her on the spot.

“I am delighted that you worked hard to ensure that I leave quickly. Do not worry, woman, I will leave as soon as the ship is ready. I will not be here to bother you for much longer.”

Blood rushed up to her face, nearly blinding her with rage.

“You… you fucking asshole!” she screamed, her hands balling into fists that she slammed as hard as she can against his rock-hard chest. “You are a fucking idiot, you asshole!”

He seemed taken aback by her words, as she kept repeatedly slamming her fists onto him, knowing that she wasn’t hurting him in the least, but needing to release her frustrations. She just wanted to hit him, let out the frustration, pain and anger that he had caused her.

Vegeta finally snapped out of it, quickly but gently holding her wrists to stop her assault. “What are you angry about? I am leaving, as you wanted! You offered no protest when I brought up the idea. Clearly I have made it easier for you to rid your planet of me. But do not worry, I have made a promise to help you defeat the androids, so I will come back for that. Afterwards, I shall leave for good.”

Her tears began to fall now, and she was helpless against the weight of her fury and sorrow. “If you really believe that I want you to go, then you are so, so much stupider than I thought!”

She must have finally gotten through to him, because he had stilled, his hands around her going slack.

“What do you mean?” he asked softly, roughly. “I thought…”

“Did you think I want this? Did you think it was so easy for me to go out of my way to actually be the one to provide you with a way to leave earth? To leave me?!” she continued amidst the tears now streaming down her face, struggling to pull her wrists free from his powerful grip.

“I am going along with this because this is what you want! I am here to help you! I just wanted to help you ascend, because I believe you can, you will ascend,” she said, ceasing her struggles, some of the fight leaving her. “You were the one who wanted to go.”

“If you had bothered to listen to me,” he retorted, “then you would know that I at no point stated that this is what I want. I told you, I need to do this.”

His shoulders slumped slightly, his eyes downcast as he went on, “I have never been the kind of man to have a choice… to want something, and to choose to do that over what needs to be done. I am a practical man, Bulma. I need to go to space since I believe that the element that I am missing to ascend is out there. I never said that it was what I wanted. It is just what has to be done.”

“And,” he swallowed, then continued, “when I told you, I was stunned by… by how effortless it was for me to get you to agree.”

Bulma stood there in disbelief.

He thought she wanted him gone.

He was hurt.

She had hurt him.

“Vegeta,” she whispered, her soft tone catching his attention as his eyes lifted up to stare into hers. “You really are an idiot. You have to know, that everything I have done, was all for you.”

She sniffled, her tears ceasing, but the heavy feeling was still in her chest. “This isn’t easy for me. It really isn’t.”

Vegeta’s eyes widened, and suddenly, she wasn’t looking into his eyes anymore as he had suddenly tugged her close to him, one of his powerful hands in her hair, another on her upper back, as he had her face pressed into his chest.

Wordlessly, the hand on her back travelled down to wrap around her waist as she felt him bury his face into her hair, and she can hear his breaths, deep rapid inhales and heavy exhales that tickled her face as he moved to pull her even closer.

In a flash, she felt something soft against her back and she realized that Vegeta had flown them to her bed. She was still wrapped in his arms, his legs tangled with hers. He shifted them so they both laid on their sides, and he pressed his forehead to hers as his obsidian eyes sought out her bright blue orbs.

One of his hands crept down to cup her face, his thumb smoothing over her teary cheek. The tender gesture, so unlike him, filled her heart with a peculiar ache that she wanted to always keep, a pain that she would gladly bear if he would just keep touching and looking at her in that way.

They were quiet for several moments, but Vegeta broke the silence.

“Two days. I can leave the day after tomorrow, then?” he asked, still flush against her body.

“Yes. I just need to do some final calibrations,” she answered, lost in his eyes, her hand moving to rest on his hard chest. “Also, do you want me to install a coffee maker?” she asked, and she felt more than heard his chuckle.

“Do what you want. Because tonight, I intend to do what I want.”

And then his lips were on hers, kissing her, his tongue pushing past her lips demandingly, searchingly, as his hands wandered down to grasp her waist as he pushed her back against the softness of her mattress.

She lifted her arms to wrap around his muscular form, opening her mouth to him, letting him taste her, hoping that her lips and her tongue could let him know, make him remember, that all she wanted was him.

He stopped kissing her for a quick second to tug her tank top off her, his lips crashing back against hers the moment the cloth went over her head. Her breasts and stomach now exposed to the cool air, she shuddered, lifting a leg to wrap around one of his while he moved restlessly, pushing his pants down as far as he could before he just used his bare feet to kick them off.

It was as if the difficult past week didn’t even happen. There they were again, entwined around each other, moving together in a sensual dance, their hands and lips roving as they struggled to touch the other as deeply as their bodies would allow.

She brought her hands down to push her pants off, only to have her arms grabbed and pulled up above her head. He trapped her hands there with his larger one, and she felt his free hand grab the material covering her a second before she heard a spectacular ripping sound.

She had barely registered her nakedness when she felt the same hand cover her mound, the sensation immediately making her ache, and she moaned into his kiss as he began to rub her, his long fingers not yet entering her, but bringing with them the promise of pleasure as they just barely touched her center.

His limbs had her caged by his strength, his thick form overwhelming her tiny one as she arched her back to rub her breasts against his chest, needing more contact, needing more of him.

He let go of her hands and she gladly let her fingers crawl over him, caressing him all over until her questing hands reached his delightful buttocks.

Grabbing a firm handful, she squeezed, and he instinctively pushed back against her, his rapidly hardening length rubbing against her lower abdomen. He groaned above her, his lips finally leaving hers, but only to trail down her neck, as he suckled her flesh strongly, teasing her jaw line with his teeth, holding himself over her with one hand braced on the mattress.

She moaned loudly when she felt his hand at her mound begin to explore, and he finally pushed past her lower lips with a finger, and she spread her legs wider to receive the single thick digit.

His finger breached her, immediately followed by a second finger, while his thumb began to search up and press on her sensitive nub of ecstasy.

She mewled at the sensations he was invoking, his hand working her below while his sinful mouth traveled down to suckle on her breast.

Her hands, unable to remain still, had traveled to his front, and one of her hands found his now engorged length. She wrapped her fingers around him to give him a gentle but firm squeeze.

He growled, unconsciously pushing his fingers harder into her weeping core. She gasped, her mouth falling open as she worked to pull air into her lungs. He was making her breathless, and her chest heaved against his mouth while it travelled to suckle on her neglected breast as well.

Vegeta was a wonder at multi-tasking, as he seemingly pleasured her entire body at once, while all she could manage was to gasp and cry out his name while she stroked and pulled at his cock.

Her free hand went up to hold his head, her fingers lost in the thick strands of his hair.

“Vegeta!” she cried out as his fingers pushed insistently inside her, driving her to the edge as his thumb pressed relentless and tightening circles around her clit.

She lifted one leg to wrap it around his legs that were braced in between her parted ones, the movement allowing him to further explore her center.

His face was suddenly close to hers again as he panted, his lips searching for hers to kiss her for a brief second before he pulled back, his brows furrowing as he panted in his pleasure. She hastened the movements of her hand on him, trying to bring him to the brink, as he also moved faster to push her to her climax.

He squeezed her breast as his fingers pinched her clit hard, and her hand ceased its movements as her orgasm suddenly washed over her, making her shake from the inside out. She screamed, eyes clamping shut as she let the incredible sensations wash over her. Unintelligible syllables tumbled from her lips as she rocked against his hand, her breath sobbing out of her chest as she tried and failed to fill her lungs with air.

He moved away from her, taking her hapless fingers from their slack grip on his cock, and he braced himself above her form on both hands, breathing hard, simply looking down at her.

Bulma calmed her breaths enough to open her eyes to look back at him, her lips parted, lost for words as she finally really looked at him.

He was motionless above her, save for the rise and fall of his chest, his ebony eyes piercing through her as he watched her face in a near trance. She felt an unsettling sort of thrill furl in her chest at that look, that warm, searching look on his handsome face, and she lifted a shaky hand to place it against his cheek, stroking his strong jaw with the back of her hand.

“Vegeta… I am going to miss you,” she finally said, her voice soft, a distinct quiver in it making her think that she may burst into tears again at any moment.

Oh god, was she going to miss him.

His hand also lifted to cup her cheek in his, his eyes on hers unwavering, willing her to understand something that he didn’t have the strength to say.

She wasn’t ready to understand. She didn’t know what he meant. Not yet.

She was about to say something else when he moved up, his hand leaving her cheek to hold the leg that she still had wrapped around his legs. He pushed her other leg further sideways, while he wiggled in further to keep both of his legs under her raised, bent knee. With one hand still supporting him over her, he moved to the side so that his torso was nearly completely off of her, and he looked back at her with a smirk.

He then moved so that his cock was now brushing against her, and she gasped in desire at the feel of him so close.

He pushed up, ever so gently, and he entered her slowly, his head turned sideways to watch her face as he claimed her.

The exotic angle in which he entered her felt different, and Bulma adjusted herself to accommodate his girth in this way. Vegeta pulled his hand away from her leg to hold himself up, both of his arms on her side as his hips started thrusting, his body within hers soothing her as the gentle motions of his hips caressed her in a way he never had before. He was moving within her in a delicious circular motion that reached deep inside her, her breath hitching at how he felt like he had completely crawled inside her and was hugging her, loving her from the inside out.

With his body turned near diagonal to hers, she bent sideward at the waist so she can try to move her head to be under his. His entire thick torso was in her view, and she adored how his muscles strained hard as he undulated his hips, his mouth open slightly as he panted in his exertion.

She whispered his name and he looked at her, that gentle light entering his eyes again, and her hand reached up to hold his neck, feeling his sweat upon her palms.

Her body felt so good, her heart felt so full, and Bulma was just so overcome by everything that she seized up, her back stiffening when he rotated his hips just so, his angle hitting her in that spot that made stars explode behind her eyes.

She felt the beginnings of her release start to enter her core, blossoming from somewhere deep inside her and she cried out, her jaw slack, releasing a sharp needy gasp that broke Vegeta’s haze and made him push harder, faster against her.

“Vegeta! You feel so good, I- Oh!” she exclaimed, her hand still upon his neck as her other rose up to hold his hip, feeling the thick cords of his muscles as he moved with fervor over her.

“Bulma- ah!” he gasped over her, closing his eyes against the pleasure as he too began to succumb to the sensations. He hissed, one hand moving to hold her face close to his, as he twisted his body back so that their bodies were now aligned, taking her hard as his lips found hers once again.

She wrapped both legs around his hips, squeezing him with her thighs, pulling herself close to him as he moved deeply within her.

Bulma groaned loudly as he began a swift, choppy rhythm that both satisfied her and left her hanging on for more. Her fingers reached around him to grasp and claw at his back, unable to stop her wild actions as he awakened her animalistic side with the indescribable pleasure he was inflicting on her body and mind.

“I can’t hold on!” she gasped out, wrapping her arms around him as she ground herself harder against him, holding her body up to his as she buried her face in that beautiful slope between his shoulder and his neck.

“Then don’t,” he rasped into her ear and she moaned, eyes shut in rapture, pulling back and exposing her neck to him.

“Let go. Let me… let me take you there,” he growled softly, wantonly.

His words, and the way he said them, made warmth burst from her chest, and she screamed when her rioting emotions triggered the most heart-stopping orgasm she had ever experienced.

He moved harder within her, harshly growling out her name, before he too released himself within her, his essence flooding her, and he shook hard in her arms as he came, her hands caressing him as she held him through his ecstasy.

She watched with heavy lidded eyes as he slowly came back from the edge, and seemingly without thought, he gathered her into his arms. Without speaking, he stroked her hair as he gently held on to her, the soft touches of his hands on her body soothing her and lulling her to sleep.

8-8-8-8-8

The tornado was upon her again, and this time, she was desperately holding onto the side of the space ship she had built for him.

A scream was building up in her throat, the terror beginning to overwhelm her, when she felt his unmistakable presence come up and stop behind her.

“Vegeta,” she called to him again. “Please help me!”

However, unlike in all of her dreams before, he didn’t smirk cruelly and leave her to be swept up in the winds. He came up to her, held her wrists and looked straight into her eyes.

“Let go,” he said.

She did.

And suddenly, she felt herself rising up, but not because she was being swept away by the strong gales.

This time, it was because she was in his arms as he pulled her away from the chaos.

She curled into him, the warmth of his body telling her that she was out of harm’s way.

That he was there for her.

In his strong embrace, with his arms that were capable of otherworldly destruction, she felt safe.

Which was why, this time, when she woke up, she didn’t wake up in a blind panic.

And when she turned her head, her heart sang as she found that she was not alone.

Vegeta was at her side, on her bed, sleeping soundly… his face relaxed in slumber, chest rising and falling softly with his steady breaths, one hand still holding on to one of hers.

He may be leaving by the next day, but right now, he was here, lying beside her… With her.

Right now, she had everything she had ever wanted.

8-8-8-8-8

END

8-8-8-8-8

End Notes:

I have always believed that there had already been some feelings between Vegeta and Bulma before he left for space to become Super Saiyan. One thing to consider is the alternate timeline of Mirai Trunks; there was no warning of the androids then, but for some reason, Vegeta had stayed long enough to conceive Trunks and fight against the androids. Why else would he, if not for Queen B?

On tornados: I’m rather fond of reading about dream interpretations, and I remember that dreaming about tornados means that you are going through a fair amount of stress. I did a quick web search and was delighted to realize that it actually means more than that, since the dreamer could be in a difficult relationship, or is experiencing massive changes. Some even mentioned that it could mean that the dreamer is pregnant in waking life. Find more here.

Reference for the Tornado position here.

Also, please know that I tried so hard to make this story a little shorter. I now understand that brevity is not one of my talents. :D

Feedback will be greatly appreciated!

[scarletraven1001]

Good Daddy

Vegeta gets injured after a sparring match, and though he had adamantly stated that it was nothing, his very concerned wife insists on fussing over him… and she was being very, very insistent.

Let it never be said that Vegeta does not indulge his wife’s whims.

A one-shot, for the February 2018 / Spring 2018 @tpthvegebulsmutfest. 

Day two: Capricorn.

Also on Ao3.

8-8-8-8-8

Good Daddy

8-8-8-8-8

The exhausted grunts, frustrated shouts, and sarcastic taunts echoed within the walls of the training room as a young, lavender-haired demi-Saiyan tried with all his might to land a square hit on his infuriatingly smug, flame-haired sire.

Vegeta smirked. The boy was skilled. His tactics were good, his punches strong but controlled. He had definitely come a long way, and the Prince of Saiyans cackled in his head as he thought about how much more talented his son was when compared to Kakarot’s younger spawn.

Trunks was making him very proud, indeed. Not that he would tell him that, given the current situation.

“You're sloppy, boy”, the older Saiyan taunted, easily parrying a blow from his son.

Both were sweaty and exhausted, but Trunks was determined to make progress today.

Vegeta had dared him: if Trunks could hit him, and make it hurt, they were going on another trip, and this time, to space.

Vegeta knew that Trunks was dying to go on a space trip. Bulma, Gohan, and Krillin had all told him stories of their trip to Old Namek, and though the stories were slightly different when told from any of their three perspectives, all Trunks knew was that he wanted to go to space.

Trunks had, on several occasions, begged Vegeta to tell him stories about his experiences in space before reaching earth. However, he usually refused. All of his “travels” had been riddled with death and destruction, and he sincerely could find nothing worth telling.

He knew that his son had already seen blood and death at a young age, and though he himself had seen considerably more gore at a ridiculously younger age, he felt that what Trunks had seen was already too much.

Vegeta was already a jaded asshole. What was the point in making his son one, as well?

But he digressed. The dare, as it was, started from the fact that Vegeta was in a strangely talkative mood that morning, and when Trunks asked about space, he had shocked them both when he recounted a story about a box of crystals that he had acquired from a now destroyed planet.

He conveniently left out the fact that the crystals were stolen.

After a purge.

Which he had carried out with Raditz, who was Goten’s uncle.

And that the planet was destroyed by Nappa, who had once killed several of the people that Trunks now interacted with on a regular basis.

Trunks listened with rapt attention as Vegeta told him about how he had flown off with the box of crystals hidden in his pod, covertly finding a way to hide them from Freeza. The crystals weren’t even particularly valuable, but he had been feeling petulant that day and wanted to keep something, anything, a secret from the lizard tyrant.

Vegeta had hidden the box in a cave on the side of a mountain in an exoplanet orbiting a star in a nearby constellation.

“I believe the star is less than 30 light years away from earth,” he had said dismissively, “and no other life form had been there before me. I thought it was a fine place to hide my contraband since it was a dead planet and nobody would bother going there. The crystals are probably still there.”

“Oh wow, papa,” Trunks had remarked in awe, before a determined glint entered his eyes – a very familiar glint that he had probably inherited from both parents. “Papa! We should retrieve those crystals!”

Vegeta immediately understood what this was leading to. “No, Trunks. We are not travelling to space just for a box of crystals.”

“But travelling to space would be so awesome!” the younger Saiyan protested. “We had fun when we went on that trip last time, right? When we ate all that food? This would be even better!”

“Trunks, it is hardly the same thing - ”

“We could give the crystals to mama! She would love those!”

“Your mother has enough crystals and gems to fill Kakarot’s house thrice!”

“But papa,” Trunks continued to whine, “Those are different! Those are from space! From before I was born! Those are so much cooler than mama’s diamonds!”

Vegeta considered. This troublesome issue could be driven to his advantage. Then, he had an idea.

“Well, how about a bet, to see if you are worthy of space travel, boy?” he smirked, and Trunks perked up.

“What kinda bet, papa?”

“I bet,” he started, leaning forward to look his son dead in the eye. “since you have been slacking off on your training, that you cannot even land a good punch on me.”

Vegeta grinned inwardly as he watched his son’s face contort, his lips thinning and his fists clenching at his sides.

He had, at the very least, managed to instill in his son the importance of keeping his Saiyan pride, and that was obvious as Trunks was clearly battling the anger brewing in him at being “belittled” by his father.

“I can more than land a punch on you papa,” the boy answered, his eyes, so like his own, narrowed dangerously. “I can hit you hard, and I promise it’s gonna hurt.”

Pride for his son exploded in Vegeta’s chest at hearing the arrogant words coming from Trunks. He can, in fact, recall himself saying something very similar to an opponent in the past.

The boy was turning into a better version of him, and Vegeta once again found himself thankful that he had made the decision to stay on earth to build this family with Bulma.

“Alright Trunks,” he said, picking up his dishes to bring them to the sink, yet keeping watch on his son out of the corner of his eye. “If you can hit me today, a painful hit, we will go and retrieve those crystals in space.”

Trunks’ eyes widened, the slight lifting of his shoulders a testament to his strengthening resolve.

“However,” he continued, “should you fail, I will hear no complaints from you regarding cleaning your room and completing your school work, for an entire month.”

The woman ought to find those terms agreeable, at the very least.

Trunks just beamed at him, the boy nearly shaking with unbridled enthusiasm. “Yes papa, I accept this challenge!”

“That’s a good Saiyan!” Vegeta said, his fist lifting in slight salute to his son’s resolve. “Meet me in the training room in one hour.”

“Yes! Let’s do this! You’re goin’ down, papa!”

A strangled shout pulled Vegeta from his thoughts, shifting his focus back to his son, who was currently fighting tooth and nail to successfully attack him.

Vegeta was in a blue muscle shirt and training pants, having foregone his armor, to even the playing field as Trunks himself was just in a shirt and jogging pants.

They both looked so domesticated and human in their attires, but Vegeta had never felt more Saiyan than at this moment, as he watched his son pant with effort, the determination and barely leashed fury and battle lust shining in his blue eyes.

This was his son. His flesh and blood. His and Bulma’s. And he was definitely living up to his name, exceeding everyone’s expectations.

Including his own.

That little baby with his tiny tuft of purple hair and clumsy chubby legs had become this young man who was now very, very close to actually injuring him.

Vegeta paid the price for his distraction when, upon dodging one of Trunks’ blows, the Prince failed to realize that his son had somehow also inherited some of his dirtier tactics, and had coordinated his punch to take advantage of the timed laser beam of a wandering fight bot.

The bot fired, making Vegeta turn away from his young opponent to field off the attack, and Trunks used the opportunity to, with all his strength, lob a ki-fueled fist at his father.

Vegeta managed to turn slightly away to not take the full brunt of the boy’s strength, but as a result, the super-powered punch landed on his left arm, on the spot above his elbow.

“Argh!” he shouted, his shock jolting him into powering down, his right hand reaching up to clutch at his now painfully throbbing arm. Losing his concentration, he fell to the floor of the training room, 200 Gs weighing him down as he struggled to stay up, falling to his knees from the strain.

“Yes! I did it!” Trunks rejoiced, also powering down and running to his father, not having realized yet the extent of damage he had caused.

“Papa I’m sure I hit you hard! I won!” the boy exclaimed as he reached him, and Vegeta watched as his brows furrowed in concern as he regarded him.

“Papa? Did I hit you too hard? I…” Trunks asked, and he opened his mouth to answer, but a pained groan cut him off, and he saw the color leave his son’s face as he realized that he had injured his own father.

“Oh no,” Trunks flew off, to turn off the gravity, Vegeta presumed.

However, the boy had apparently panicked, and instead, went straight to activate the emergency shutdown. The whole training room shuddered to a stop, the failsafe shutting down all the power, and also sending an urgent alarm to –

“Vegeta!” Bulma’s voice echoed around the room, her worried face appearing on the communication screen. The emergency shutdown was programmed to send an alert to all of her personal communication devices. Her eyes searched the feed before it landed on Trunks.

“Trunks, what happened?” she asked.

“Mama,” he answered, turning to face the source of the sound of her voice. “Mama, Papa got hurt!”

“Trunks, Bulma, I am fine -” he tried to interject, but Bulma had already cut off the communication and somehow appeared at the now open doorway less than a minute later, medicine kit in hand.

“Mama!” Trunks exclaimed, flying to Bulma and basically dragging her to the fallen Saiyan.

“Vegeta, what happened?” she asked.

“Papa I’m sorry!” Trunks was saying, near tears in concern.” I didn’t mean to - ”

“Yes you did,” Vegeta cut him off, finally looking up at his son, who had gone still at his words.

“You meant that blow. You really meant it. And that hurt, boy,” Vegeta said, and Trunks looked down at his feet, unable to meet his eyes.

“Papa, I’m sor - ”

“You did well, Trunks.”

Trunks looked up, eyes wide and unblinking, disbelief written on his face. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” he answered, giving his son a fond smirk. “Good work.”

Trunks beamed, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Bulma’s confused look.

“What exactly is happening here?” she asked, eyeing both of her boys.

“Bulma,” he turned to her, “How soon can we leave, if we need to go out into space?”

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“I cannot believe you two!” Bulma fumed from inside their bedroom, knowing fully well that he can hear her perfectly while he washed up the sweat from his training in their private bathroom.

“Let me get this straight. You made a bet, that if he manages to maim you, we can go and have a family trip to space?!”

Vegeta smirked as he opened the bathroom door, towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still damp from the shower. A smaller towel was slung over his shoulder to catch any stray drops of water.

“Well, I promised him a space trip. Not a family trip. You can stay here if you do not want to come,” he answered, smirk widening as she turned to him in fury.

“Of course I’m coming! But that’s not the point! God dammit Vegeta, I can’t believe you volunteered to be Trunks’ punching bag!”

“Well, how else would the boy learn?”

“How about a nice, harmless sparring session?”

“A harmless session would yield no results,” he retorted, sitting on the edge of their bed, taking the smaller towel with his right hand and using it to scrub his head dry. “Besides, it is alright, Bulma. No one was seriously injured.”

“You hurt your arm again, Vegeta. You always hurt that arm. I told you that we should get it checked.”

“Checked by a human doctor who would probably faint in shock when he realizes that my bones are stronger than steel? Pointless. I am fine, woman,” he insisted, lifting said arm to show her, but he did not anticipate the twinge of pain that came and he winced slightly at the sensation.

Bulma, of course, caught his reaction.

“You’re fine? Fine? I saw that, Vegeta,” she said, walking over to him and sitting beside him on the bed, her hand reaching down to gently lift his injured arm to let it rest on her lap.

“You don’t need to worry about this, the pain will be gone by morning,” he answered, before he felt a small grin stretch his lips. “You may be pleased to know that I made a good deal on that bet. Had he failed to hit me, he would have quietly cleaned his room and done his schoolwork for a few weeks.”

“Me threatening to take away his Playstation would have yielded the same results,” she retorted. Vegeta just chuckled at her irritation.

“Still. I had endeavored to be a ‘good father’, even though it unfortunately backfired.”

Her blue eyes rose up to meet his, then, and he was surprised to note that all traces of reprimand and irritation were now gone from her gaze, leaving behind her clear concern and a fondness that sometimes, he still could not believe that she felt for him.

“You are a good father, Vegeta,” she whispered, a soft smile breaking across her lips.

Her loving smile made heat rise to his face, and he looked away, embarrassed at her praise.

“No, really, you are,” she continued. “You encourage him. You are strict and a bit terrifying, but Trunks loves you, and he looks up to you so much.”

He glanced back at her then, her bright smile making a different kind of warm pain blossom into his chest.

“I am so happy with how our family is right now, Vegeta,” she looked down at her hands still clutching his injured arm. “I am just so glad that, after the Cell Games, you decided that it was worth it to stay here. With us.”

A large lump rose into his throat when she smiled in earnest, one hand lifting to cup his cheek.

He watched as her face came closer, eyes drifting closed, and she pressed her soft lips onto his, sighing into his mouth when he parted his lips to taste her.

She moved closer to him, and he shifted, but a sharp pain struck his left arm at that moment and he unwittingly released a small gasp.

“Oh,” Bulma pulled back, her brows furrowed in concern once again. “I almost forgot about your arm!”

“Woman, I am fine!” he insisted, contradicting his own words when his right hand instinctively moved to hover over the pained limb.

Bulma was already up, taking the small hand towel he had been holding and dropping it down to the floor, and then began rooting around their medicine cabinet for some thick bandages and a soothing salve.

“Humor me, Vegeta,” she sighed in mild frustration. “Just let me wrap your arm, then, maybe, I’ll give you a reward of your own, afterwards.”

He perked up when he sensed the subtle change in her tone. She had injected something naughty into those words, and he was suddenly a lot more interested in letting her fuss over his arm.

“A reward for what, Bulma?” he leered, putting heavy innuendo in his own tone.

“For being such a good daddy,” she said with a salacious wink.

“Oh really,” he grinned evilly, the fingers of his right hand fidgeting with the edges of his towel.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded with a lecherous grin, as she sat down beside him and pulled gently on his left arm again.

She picked up the bottle of salve that she had formulated in her lab, a powerful healing cream for Saiyan-sized injuries. She scooped some of the cream out with her fingers, then turned to him and began rubbing the medicine onto his arm, paying special attention to the part that had actually begun to bruise.

She clucked her tongue, shaking her head. “Trunks sure did a number on you, huh?”

“Yes he did,” he agreed, his attention arrested by the slow motions of her hands on him. “The boy is truly gifted. I look forward to the day when he overpowers me and defeats me in combat.”

She turned sharply to him then, eyes disbelieving. “Really?”

“Tch,” he looked away, feeling heat rising on his cheeks. “He is my son. I believe any man would be pleased when his child finally surpasses him. It only means that the father has taught him well.”

Her hands stilled on his arm and he looked back down on her, his eyes falling onto her deep blue eyes. Her eyes were shining, her lips twisting up into a soft smile, the contented sort of joyful smile that she only ever smiled at him.

That smile was his.

She turned to pick up the bandages, then, kneeling up beside him, began wrapping the thick gauze around his injured arm.

When she finished, she took the medical supplies and placed them on the nearest table, then turning to him, gave him a sultry, meaningful smile that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He knew that look. He loved that look.

Moving to stand at the foot of their bed, she hooked her fingers onto the sides of her pants and began pushing them off, that naughty smile still on her lips as she slowly swayed her hips from side to side. When the elastic was down to her thighs, she released the garment, letting it drop to the floor.

His eyes greedily took in the creamy skin of her thighs, her long legs, watching as they came up and her knees pushed against the edge of the mattress as she leaned over him with a hand on his chest.

She began to gently push him back, until his back was pressed up against their headboard, his legs spread out before him, the towel still wrapped around his waist.

“Now,” she purred, her hands reaching up to slowly, torturously smooth against the wide expanse of his muscular chest. “I believe I owe you a reward?”

A wide, lustful grin spread across his face as he looked at her, his palms already twitching at the thought of feeling her against him.

“Yes, you may have mentioned it earlier,” his hands went up to pull her to him, but to his surprise, she held up her hands and placed them on his wrists, pushing his arms down to rest on the bed beside his hips.

“Oh no, you don’t. You are injured,” she murmured as she lifted herself up and knelt, placing her legs so his own were caged in by her, and she was astride him on the bed.

She crept closer, rubbing herself against his naked torso, the soft material of her shirt brushing delicately across his nipples. She pressed her hands to his chest again, her nose rubbing against his neck as she took in a deep inhale of his scent.

Something cold brushed against his throat, and he leaned his head back as he let her lave his neck with her tongue. Her breaths were starting to get heavy, and he could tell that she was arousing herself with the taste and scent of him.

She straightened, her mouth moving up to hover against his own, blowing hot air across his lips as she spoke, “Let me do all the work. You just rest your arm, sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”

With those words, she moved away, pulling her blouse off in a quick fluid motion. Her bare breasts greeted his delighted eyes, but before he could reach for them to feel their weight in his palms, she moved away, scooting down so her knees were beside his own.

He felt her hands tug at his towel, spreading it open and baring him to her. She glanced up into his face, her hungry eyes meeting his, and without letting go of his gaze, her hands smoothed up his muscular thighs, before one hand snuck up and wrapped around his manhood.

He hissed, leaning back against the headboard heavily, as his vulgar little wife leaned down and began pumping him with her hand. His legs parted further, inviting her attentions, and she responded, her other hand reaching down to fondle the heavy sacks between his thighs.

He looked down at her and found that she had shifted so that her head was bowed close to his lower abdomen, her pale back arched down, leading his eyes to the round ass thrust up, still hidden by her panties.

His right hand reached up to tangle in her short blue hair, the strands like water between his fingers.

She kept up the motions of her hand on him, her head lifting slightly to meet his eyes. He felt feverish from her attentions, and he tried hard to keep his eyes open so he could watch her as she pleasured him. Her pumps were going faster and faster, soft fingers and palm massaging his balls in gentle, circular motions that drove him wild with desire.

She smirked at him then, before she suddenly stooped down and wrapped her lips around him.

He groaned loudly as he felt her beautiful mouth cover his tip, suckling and licking him all around the head. She pulled away with a pop, then moved down to run her tongue along the underside of his cock, all the way from the base to the tip that was already leaking with pre-cum.

He shuddered when she looked back up at him, then, without taking her eyes off him, she slowly placed her mouth back around him, going deeper and deeper until he felt himself hit the back of her throat.

The moan she received from him was embarrassingly loud, but he didn’t truly care about making a fool of himself when what she was doing felt so fucking good.

His hand fell away from her hair to tangle roughly among the sheets, fists tightening around the fabric as she pushed and pulled at him with her mouth.

“Bulma,” he gasped, and the woman hummed loudly with him still in her mouth, the vibrations caused by the sound surrounding him in a haze of delicious desire.

He felt himself nearing that pinnacle of pleasure, and he tried to let her know, but his throat wasn’t quite working. He lifted one hand to wrap around her upper arm, tugging her lightly, but she just swatted him away, and instead of stopping, she just sucked him even harder.

“Argh! Bulma!” he cried out, as she exhaled through her mouth around him, blowing the hot air onto him before a particularly strong suction finally pulled his release from him.

He came with a growl, his hands lifting up to curl behind him and grip the reinforced headboard, as he felt himself convulsing from the force of his pleasure, his cum shooting into Bulma’s willing mouth.

She was still sucking him, milking him, and had he been a lesser man, he would have already called out for mercy. When he felt the last of his release leave him, she stopped, pulling her lips away from his cock, before she straightened up to face him.

With a heavy lidded gaze, the vulgar woman smirked at him, then, very deliberately, swallowed.

He groaned long and low, his manhood going unbelievably hard, unbelievably fast.

Bulma smiled at him again, before she turned to face away from him, moving so his parted legs were in between hers. She leaned down so her face was low, her lips brushing the tips of his toes.

She lifted her hips so that her beautiful buttocks waved teasingly up at him, the damp material framing her lower lips tantalizingly.

“Rip em off, ouji,” she said, her voice full of desire, and he complied eagerly, easily ripping the flimsy cloth off of his woman. Her glistening lower lips, wet with her arousal, pink and soft as flower petals, greeted him, and unable to help himself, he reached his tongue out and gave her a long, eager lick.

She gasped, and he lifted both hands to grasp her hips steady, his mouth covering her, tongue moving against her folds in languid up and down motions.

He was a man dying of thirst, and her essence was his sustenance. He licked her madly, his tongue entering her, trying to drink in every drop of her lust. Bulma was moaning loudly, her head down, her cheek pressed against the mattress near his feet.

She released a harsh cry, and just as he felt her body shudder in that way she did when she was close, she pulled herself away from him. A rough growl of protest escaped his lips as she set her butt to sit on his spread thighs, depriving him of her taste.

She turned her head slightly so she could regard him, then breathlessly said, “Didn’t I tell you to let me do all the work? This is your reward, babe,” she chuckled softly.

Vegeta watched with interest as she lowered herself so her chest was flat against the length of his legs, her scrumptious ass moving closer to his cock as she spread her legs open wider. She fidgeted, and he then saw that her crafty little hand had moved down, and she then reached to grasp him once again, guiding him into her waiting core.

He groaned as he entered her warmth, the feeling of his woman surrounding him the most delectable sensation he had ever experienced.

Bulma used her arms to push back against him, her buttocks slapping against his lower abdomen as she moved herself to and fro, her nipples rubbing against his legs as her chest heaved with her exertions.

He could hear her harsh breaths, loud gasps and keening whines escaping her as she pleasured herself with his body, sating his own desires and building them both up to what he knew was going to be a blinding release.

He grasped her hips again, helping her along when she began to stutter with her movements. Moving her to a beat that only they could hear, their bodies dancing to a rhythm only they could follow.

“Vegeta!” she cried, burrowing her face into the sheets as she began to lose control, her insides convulsing with her oncoming climax.

“I’m… almost… Oh kami! Vegeta, I’m cumming!” Bulma keened, and Vegeta began to move her faster against him, his motions losing control as he too neared his peak.

“Bulma!” he growled, his eyes trained on her body, his ears listening to each exhale and whimpered syllables of his name.

When she came, she arched up, throwing her head back, a guttural cry leaving her throat as her core spasmed wildly around him.

He moved her hips, once, twice, thrice… before a powerful, blinding sensation filled him, his own head falling hard against the headboard as he spilled himself into her gorgeous body.

Bulma slumped down onto his legs, panting hoarsely, unable to move her limbs from the strain of her earlier movements.

He himself still felt boneless, but he summoned the force of his will into his arms so he could move, gently lifting his wife up to him, both of them slumping down to lay on their bed, arms wrapped around each other.

When they finally caught their breaths, Bulma tightened her hold on him, squeezing him against her with her delicate arms.

“So… where exactly are we going when we head off to space?” she murmured, her breaths tickling his chest as she spoke.

Vegeta peered down at her, one hand pushing a stray stand of hair away from her face so he could regard her fully.

“There is this nearby exoplanet where I told Trunks I had left some personal belongings on. He would like to go on an excursion to retrieve them,” he answered.

“Do you remember the coordinates?”

“Not the exact location, but it is, if I remember correctly, orbiting a star about 29 light years away.”

“That’s not too far, we can make it in a week,” she said, and Vegeta could see that she was already plotting calculations in her head. “Is it part of a star cluster?”

“I believe your earth scientists have called the star Gliese 785.”

“That sounds familiar,” she remarked, looking up at him. “It’s part of one of the zodiac constellations.”

“Yes,” he confirmed with a nod. “It is part of what you earthlings call, the Capricornus.”

8-8-8-8-8

END

8-8-8-8-8

 End Notes:

This idea came to me because of a fandom joke about Vegeta’s left arm. Why is it always the left arm? Is it a weak spot? A recurring injury? A fracture that never healed right? Really bad timing?

Well, whatever it may be, that bum arm led to this.

Reference for the Capricorn position here.

Feedback will be greatly appreciated!