#Piccolo (Dragon Ball)/Reader

[piccoloswifers]

Piccolo X Wife!Reader

Different things you do that make your husband go 🥰🥵😏

TW: A little spicy, Sex, Violence against Frieza

Being Piccolo's wife was more than just a title, it was proof of how irresistible you were to anybody and everybody

At least, that's what Piccolo believed because nobody and nothing else was as addictive as you were. He couldn't get enough of you the moment he had met you

The needy feeling hadn't dwindled even a moment once the two of you became an official couple. If anything, it got worse the more he was exposed to your adorableness

You found yourself unintentionally catching your husband's intense attention all the time, you weren't even trying to seduce him. Really!!

Though it's your fault he has these urges to pleasure and tease you now, he wasn't insatiable like this until his first time being intimate with you

You've made a monster out of him 😏

BUT-

You genuinely turn him on without even trying and the knowledge makes your whole body flush when you really think about it

One time you're watching the Trunks and Goten play, Pan cuddled up against you as you rock baby Bulla to sleep, a soft smile on your face as you soak up the sun

You felt your husband's presence and waited for him to come sit with you, eager to lean against him and make the moment even more perfect

Only Piccolo doesn't move, instead frozen and staring at the blissfully domestic moment between you and all the little ones

He's taking in the sight of your lips, the sounds of your contented sighs, and the feeling of happiness radiating off of you and the children

He's suddenly spurred into action when you open your eyes in confusion and pout at him, overcome with the urge to squeeze you tight

"Piccolo? Are you going to come sit with u-oh~!"

You let out a happy gasp as your husband storms forward and gently(but firmly) grabs the back of your head, kissing you hard and purposefully

It's somehow hot and sweet at the same time, his fangs nipping at your lips a little too roughly before he pulls away with a flustered look, plopping himself down next to you and crossing his arms

You lean your head on him as you catch your breath, face flushed and body buzzing pleasantly, only to be embarrassed all over again when a strong arm pulls you by the hips until you're pressed tightly against Piccolo

His eyes are closed, and his lips are set in their usual frown, but you can feel his desire for you in how firmly he holds you close

At some point, you end up in his lap, and he refuses to let you move, a large hand rubbing your hip in a way that should be soothing but instead feels suggestive

Maybe you two are a little too obvious when you're returning the kids back to their parents, practically racing out the door once the drop-off happens

Not that you care all that much when suddenly your husband is pressing you against the front door and licking inside your mouth in a way that feels dirty

And especially not when he lets out a particularly delicious sounding grunt as you yank him closer by the fabric of his clothes, the two of you making heated eye contact as his tongue glides across your own

You still don't know what you did to get that reaction out of him...

Or, like the time when everyone was gathered together to face the problem of a new foe, settled next to Piccolo as Vegeta yelled at Goku for not taking things seriously

Your frown showed your worry, a feeling that only got worse when Piccolo had offered to hold off the foe to try and give Goku and Vegeta more time for their plan

You whipped your head around fast to look at him, your hand gripping his arm tightly and lips parted with protest

But he didn't even flinch, gaze locked with Goku's as he subtly shook his head at you

The only reassurance you get in that moment is when he covers your hand with his own, giving it a gentle squeeze before taking your hand off of him

You're upset at him for the rest of the day after that, torn between wanting to yell at him or needing to cling to him

So you settled for both, grabbing his big pointy ear and yelling at him for making such a huge decision without you

As much as it hurt and was embarrassing for him to treated like this, some part of him was enjoying it(freak!!!!)

Your upset reaction just reminds him of how much you love him, and that's all his mind can focus on, tuning you out unintentionally

Suddenly, he's putting a hand over your mouth and staring at you with a fond expression before he leans in close as if sharing a precious secret with you

"I love you too, Y/N."

You're too confused and flustered to even realize that he's picking you up and carrying you to the bedrooms, your legs instinctively wrapping around him

You manage to pull away between kisses, blushing when he starts nibbling and kissing down your throat instead. You can't help but hit his back before guiding his lips back to yours

"We're finishing this conversation later..!"

Your husband only smirks at you and chuckles before going back in for a rough kiss, his sharp nails digging into your hips as he pins you down suddenly

Or there was the time that you were stuck with Frieza while everyone was preparing for another tournament, the frost demon seemingly taking an interest in you

You were trying to keep the peace and not pick a fight with the crazy tyrant so you held your tongue whenever he gave you a backhanded compliment

Which was difficult when Frieza insisted that you be his escort around Earth while he was there

"Oh my~ It's amazing to me that you can keep such a lovely physique when you eat like that~"

"Huh, I suppose it is true what they say! With great age comes even greater wisdom!"

"You're so brave for going out in public in that outfit!"

Even if you had never known all the horrible things Frieza had done to your husband and friends, you're sure you would hate him just the same for all his mean girl quips

But you held strong all the same, ignoring each dig with all the grace and patience you could muster

Until Frieza realized that you and Piccolo were an item, he just couldn't resist, Frieza had to say something when he saw you coax a quick kiss out of your husband

"Oh, how precious~ It would seem that beauty has tamed the great green beast-"

Only to end up shocked when you suddenly whipped around and slapped him hard across the mouth, it wasn't even the pain that got to him, just the audacity

"I have had enough of your smart comments! I don't care what you say about me but don't you dare talk about my husband or else I'll kill you myself!"

You're hitting Frieza repeatedly, emphasizing your point when suddenly Piccolo is throwing you over his shoulder and walking away

"Goku! I want you to rip his tail off for me so I can mount it on my wall! Right above the bed! Then I want you to-HEY!"

"Haha! Anything you say, Y/N!"

You gasp and finally look back as best you can, feeling your husband's fangs nipping the meat of your ass as he carries you away from a trembling Frieza

It probably looked like Piccolo was making a retreat with you to protect you from Frieza, but the reality of the situation was that he was turned on by how fiercely you protected him

Seeing you slowly become more and more annoyed with Frieza before suddenly snapping in a rage of sexy fury was just intoxicating for him. Even more so knowing he's the reason for the snap in the first place

Piccolo starts to wonder if he's got some Saiyan in him because the sight of you making such a powerful foe cower for even attempting to insult him shouldn't be so hot

You go from angry to embarrassed as your husband nuzzles where he bit you, hitting his back and kicking your legs, which only makes him more pleased

"Mm, what a fierce little wife I have..."

You can't help but shiver when he lets out an appreciative rumble, rubbing the back of your legs to calm your kicks as he opens the bedroom door

"It's natural for me to want to protect the man I love, especially from someone who's already hurt him far too much..."

Your soft, genuine tone and the way you grip the back of his cape is what does him in, tossing you down onto the bed and climbing on top of you in a way that could only be described as predatory

Somehow, in a drunken heavy fog of pleasure, you catch your husband mumbling something under his breath before diving back in to give you a bruising kiss, pushing his body flush against yours as if trying to fuse with you

"You're going to be death of me, I swear..."

You can only moan and dig your nails a little harder into his back, locking him against you with your legs around his hips

"Ha...if you die...take me with you..."

Those are only a few instances of Piccolo's melting for you, the reality of it is that there isn't a single day that goes by that Piccolo isn't getting some form of cuteness aggression because of you

And if it's not cuteness aggression, then he's straight up getting turned on

But it's not like you don't jump your husband's bones over little things too, you two were far too infatuated with each other not to

Piccolo is so obviously whipped for you that Chi-Chi and Bulma often whine about how jealous they are of your marriage

You can't help it though, you two are so ridiculously addicted to each other

[actuallysaiyan]

HI BACON!! 🥓💙 glad to see your requests are back open so will you please do headcanons for Vegeta, Goku Black and Piccolo walking in on their horny! s/o masturbating? anyways hope you are doing well and stay hydrated 😊

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, masturbation, slight dub con, Piccolo has a diccolo, vaginal fingering, oral sex(fem and male receiving) word count: 1.1k pairings: Vegeta x Fem!Reader, Goku Black x Fem!Reader and Piccolo x Fem!Reader

Vegeta comes in from a long training session, expecting to find you in the kitchen. He grows frustrated when he doesn’t find you there and begins calling out your name.

The minute he opens the door to your shared bedroom and sees you on the bed, hands between your thighs and moaning out his name, Vegeta is very stunned and red in the face.

You spot him and you buck against your hand even more, your excitement growing now that your husband is here. Vegeta is stammering and stuttering, desperately trying to come up with something to say.

“Like what you see, my prince?” you pull your fingers from your cunt, beckoning him closer. Vegeta sputters something about this being so inappropriate but you see the growing bulge in his spandex.

Slowly, Vegeta begins approaching you. The scent of your essence is getting the better of him. He’s unable to pull away from the situation that has been presented to him. You’re basically being offered up on a silver platter.

He crawls onto the bed, pinning your wrists above your head. You see that lustful animalistic look in his eyes as he leans in to kiss you hungrily. The moment your tongues touch, Vegeta knows he has to take care of you.

“Poor little human wife,” he growls as he begins leaving kisses down your neck and onto your collarbone. “Couldn’t wait for her husband to come home, huh?”

You shake your head, begging for him to stimulate you. It does not matter what he does, you just know you’re so desperate for it right now. He laughs at you, mocking you a little.

“Poor little woman needs her prince…” his voice is teasing you now, but you know he’s going to make you feel much better. He’ll take good care of you.

With one smooth movement, Vegeta is balls deep inside of you. His lips are firmly pressed against yours as he begins his fast and deep pace. If you ever decide to pull this trick on him again, he might punish you even worse.

He’s somehow become attached to you. You keep him company and he finds some sort of amusement and entertainment with you. It took very little time for him to become intimate with you.

One day as he comes home, he doesn’t find you waiting for him in the doorway. This bothers him as he begins to wonder if you’ve just decided to leave him be. This is exactly what he was worried about.

But then he finds you on the bed, desperately trying to cum from just your fingers. He tuts at you, finding you so damn pitiful and pathetic. Humans really are this naive and foolish.

Yet the smell of you makes his cock so hard. He knows that the Saiyan part of him makes him weak to these sorts of mating practices. He wants to bury his face between your thighs and pull pleasure from you until you cry.

“Aren’t you just the foolish little human?” He asks, making you whine for him. You’re grinding against your hand so desperately, it makes him mock you in a very mean tone of voice.

He then snatches your hand from between your thighs and brings it to his lips. You watch through lust-filled eyes as he sucks on them and makes a big mess of your fingers. Then he shoves them back to your pussy.

“Show me how badly a needy little human like you needs to cum. I’m not entirely convinced that you deserve my cock just yet. I need to be convinced, little human.” He smirks as he watches you get into it so much more.

You’re inspired to work your hand against your clit even harder and faster, pitiful and pathetic moans falling from your lips as you try to show Goku Black just how needy you are for him. It’s a desperate attempt.

The more you grind against your own hand, the more you begin dripping all over the sheets and your own fingers. Goku Black watches you, making sure you aren’t faking your emotions and feelings for him at this moment.

Once he’s pleased successfully, he will strip off his clothes and give you exactly what you need. You’ll be so full, you can feel his cock in your lower tummy. Your eyes will roll back as he fucks you until you’re desperately crying for him to stop.

Piccolo doesn’t exactly understand romantic and sexual relationships at first, but soon he gets the gist of it when you give him a blowjob. He becomes quite addicted to it, to the point where he allows you to do it while he meditates.

Even without that, Piccolo begins craving other things. You’ve made this previously thought to be asexual Namekian addicted to sex. That’s why when he finds you in your bedroom, the vibrator on your clit, he’s already salivating.

“Hmph, couldn’t wait for me, could you?” His deep voice pulls you from your pleasure, and you’re blushing deeply. You try to make up an excuse, but he’s already pulling off his clothes and approaching you.

“You want to be filthy and touch yourself instead of coming to me for pleasure? Fine, open up!” He commands you as he begins to stroke his cock. Then as you open your mouth, he stuffs his cock in and watches as you struggle to adjust to it.

You feel one of his hands coming down to place the vibrator back onto your clit. You really never would have thought that Piccolo would be the type to be into this sort of thing, but you’ve shown him a world of pleasure he’s not used to.

He lets out the sexiest moans and groans as you relax your throat and allow him to use you as his personal little fleshlight. It’s so exciting to you to allow him to use you like this. It’s a whole new side to him.

He works the vibrator on your clit in such a teasing way, making you moan around his cock. All of this is turning out to be just so perfect. Catching you touching yourself was the perfect excuse for him to start something sexual like this.

“You’re a filthy little human,” he teases between moans and groans. “Such a needy little thing,” his words make you dribble even more nectar from your neglected hole. He loves watching you like this.

It’s not long before his balls are drawing up and he feels his orgasm building even faster than intended. So he pulls out and gets on his knees between your thighs. With one look up at you, he leans in to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit.

Piccolo stays between your thighs, lapping up your juices and using his fingers to curl up against that sweet spot that leaves you breathless and seeing stars. He’ll do it until you’re just begging him to stop.

[makorinhitaki]

[morchilluv]

With Nothing but My love - Goku

Warnings: None really. Just a slow burn, and fluff!

Synopsis: Goku and you had been the best of friends for as long as you could remember. From childhood adventures to shared secrets, you had a bond that felt unbreakable. Just when your feelings for him started to grow beyond friendship, your parents sent you away, leaving you with no choice but to part ways. So when the day finally came that you reunited, you were completely caught off guard—not by the friendship that picked up where it left off, but by the handsome man Goku had become.

A/N: My Goku fixation is coming back. This fic is inspired by Manolo and Maria because they're just so endgame. It doesn't contain a love triangle, it honestly just skips time over and over again until they confess. I also added 2 alternative ways on how you guys finally confessed!

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Goku and you had been the best of friends for as long as you could remember. From childhood adventures to shared secrets, you had a bond that felt unbreakable. But, as life often does, things changed. Just when your feelings for him started to grow beyond friendship, your parents sent you away, leaving you with no choice but to part ways. So when the day finally came that you reunited, you were completely caught off guard—not by the friendship that picked up where it left off, but by the handsome man Goku had become. He was taller, more muscular—no longer the goofy kid you remembered, but a force of nature. And, despite your own growth, you couldn’t deny how impossible it was to ignore the way he made your heart race now.

You stood at the entrance of the town, the familiar sights feeling strange after all these years. Your heart beat a little faster with each step, knowing Goku was back in your life. You’d heard rumors he was around, but seeing him again? That was something else.

Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice call your name.

You turned, and there he was—Goku. Taller, broader, his once-boyish grin now a confident, easy smile. He was different. A powerful presence radiated from him now, and it made your breath catch.

He jogged up to you, his smile softening. “You’ve changed,” he said, his voice gentle. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

You blinked, still trying to process the sight of him. “I could say the same about you,” you said, your voice softer than you intended.

Goku laughed, rubbing the back of his head nervously. “Guess we both grew up, huh?”

The years melted away in that moment, and before you could stop yourself, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. It felt so right, so natural—like no time had passed at all.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours. “I’ve missed you,” he said quietly.

Your heart skipped a beat. “I’ve missed you too,” you whispered, realizing just how true that was.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Time Skip ੈ✩‧₊˚

During another training session, Goku and you were sparring. As usual, there was a playful back-and-forth, with Goku dodging your attacks and you trying (and failing) to land a blow.

Meanwhile, your guys' friends were sitting on the sidelines, watching in amusement.

"I think they're both too stubborn to admit it," Krillin said with a knowing grin. "I've been watching this for weeks, and it's obvious. Goku's just waiting for her to say something."

"Yeah, and she's doing everything she can to ignore it," Bulma added, leaning back against a rock. "I swear, if they don't get their act together soon, I'm gonna start charging them for relationship advice."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the scene. "Why would they not admit it? It's obvious. She loves him. And he's completely in love with her. They're both idiots."

Piccolo nodded, though his expression was unreadable. "They're not the most observant when it comes to this stuff."

Suddenly, a punch landed squarely on Goku's chest, knocking him backward a bit. He looked up at you, laughing it off, clearly not noticing the tension.

"I think she likes me," Goku said loudly, still grinning. "But, uh... she won't admit it."

Your face turned a deep shade of red as you yelled across the field, "Goku! What the heck are you talking about?!"

Bulma and Krillin exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter. "See? Even he knows it," Krillin said, pointing at the two of you.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Time Skip ੈ✩‧₊˚

It was late one night, and the group had just finished another intense training session. Everyone was winding down, but you and Goku found yourselves alone, sitting outside under the stars.

The cool night air wrapped around you as you sat in comfortable silence, side by side. You weren’t sure what it was, but something felt different tonight. Maybe it was the way the moonlight hit Goku’s face or the fact that you guys had spent so much time together lately. Either way, it was hard to ignore the growing tension.

“So,” Goku began, shifting his weight and leaning closer to you. “You think you could beat me if we went full out? I mean, you’re getting stronger, I’ll give you that.”

You smirked, a little playful and a little daring. “Are you really asking me if I can beat you? You’re supposed to be the strongest fighter. I just don’t want to embarrass you.”

Goku laughed, clearly enjoying the playful banter. But as he turned to face you, he misjudged the space between you guys and accidentally brushed his hand along your thigh. His eyes widened as he realized what happened, but he didn’t pull back. He simply looked at you, his gaze intense.

You froze, your breath hitching in your throat. The way Goku looked at you—it wasn’t playful anymore. It was as if he was silently daring you to do something about it.

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain control of the situation, but all you could do was respond by leaning in, pressing your body just a little closer to his.

“You’re getting awfully comfortable, Goku,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Goku didn’t answer immediately, his fingers lingering just above your skin. He leaned in slightly, his lips brushing against your cheek in the most teasingly slow way possible.

Before you could pull away, Goku whispered, “You know I can’t stop myself when I’m this close to you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “You think I’m that easy, huh?”

Goku smirked. “You’re anything but easy.” Then, his lips hovered dangerously close to yours. “But I’m gonna make you admit it sooner or later.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Time Skip ੈ✩‧₊˚

One evening, the group decided to play a friendly game of dodgeball. You and Goku ended up on opposite teams, and things quickly turned competitive. Every time you faced off, sparks flew, not just from your rivalry, but from the undeniable chemistry between you.

After one particularly heated exchange, where Goku intentionally threw the ball just a little too hard at you, you wiped your face, eyes glinting dangerously. “You really want to play dirty, huh?”

“I’m just getting started,” Goku said, his eyes lighting up with excitement. He grinned and pulled his shirt off over his head, giving you a teasing wink. “You ready to lose, then?”

Your jaw dropped, your eyes scanning his sculpted chest, but you quickly regained your composure. “You think you can throw me off with your muscles? You’ve got another thing coming, Goku.”

Goku’s smirk deepened. “You sure about that?” He tossed the ball to you, and the game grew more intense, both of you using every opportunity to make the other blush. Every throw felt like a challenge, every dodge like a dance. You guys were getting dangerously close to crossing a line, your bodies brushing against each other as you tried to outplay each other.

Finally, in one moment of utter chaos, Goku reached out to catch the ball you threw. His hand brushed against your waist as he pulled you closer, locking eyes with you for a brief second, the tension palpable.

“Alright, alright, Goku,” you said in a low voice, too close to his ear. “You win... but you owe me. Big time.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Time Skip ੈ✩‧₊˚

Goku’s laughter echoed in the training field as he dodged a punch from you. The two of you had been sparring for hours, but something about today felt different. Maybe it was the way he kept getting just a little too close and his hand lingered a little too long on your shoulder when he showed you a new move. Or maybe it was just that every time you guys locked eyes, it felt like the world slowed down for a second.

“Hey, don’t go easy on me!” you grinned, but Goku’s gaze was soft as he watched you.

“I’m not. I’m just... happy you’re here.” He scratched the back of his head with a nervous chuckle, his voice unusually quiet.

You blinked, a little caught off guard by his tone. “What?”

Goku’s cheeks flushed red, and he waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing, nothing! Just... you’re a really good fighter. And, you know, I’ve missed spending time with you.”

You smiled, your heart fluttering. “I’ve missed it too, Goku.”

For a moment, the tension in the air shifted, and the distance between you felt like it had shrunk. Goku looked away quickly, his nervous energy returning, but that moment lingered between you guys like an unspoken promise.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Time Skip ੈ✩‧₊˚

A few days later, Goku and you found yourselves alone in the training room, sparring—once again, it felt a little different. You guys were closer than usual, and the air between you was electric. Every time Goku dodged an attack, he was a little too close. When you blocked his punch, your hands brushed in a way that sent a jolt through your body.

You stepped back, your heart racing. “You’re getting way too close,” you teased, trying to hide the heat in your face.

“Am I?” Goku’s grin was dangerously charming. “I didn’t notice.”

Your breath caught as he stepped closer again, his muscles flexing as he effortlessly dodged your strikes. This time, he wasn’t just dodging—he was leaning in, trapping you against the wall. “What if I told you I’m not just trying to dodge?” Goku whispered, his lips hovering near your ear.

Your pulse quickened, but you refused to show it. “Then... I’d tell you to step back.”

Goku didn’t listen. Instead, he leaned in just a little more, his breath warm on your neck. “You know I’m not going to let this go, right?”

You swallowed, a twinge of heat spreading down your neck. You could feel the tension rising, and it was getting harder to ignore the electricity crackling in the air. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though your voice was shaky.

Goku kissed your cheek, his lips lingering for just a second. “I think you like it,” he said softly, a playful smirk on his face.

Your heart raced. “You’re so annoying,” you muttered, trying to push him away, but your hands shook, betraying you.

Krillin and Bulma, who had been watching from a distance, exchanged knowing glances. “They’re totally going to end up together,” Bulma said, rolling her eyes.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Time Skip ੈ✩‧₊˚

Later that day, the group was having a quiet dinner, and the atmosphere was relaxed—until Goku and you got into a little playful argument. It started with something trivial, as it often did, but soon, it escalated into something more personal.

“Come on, I know I’m right!” Goku insisted, nudging your shoulder with his elbow.

You smirked. “Oh, you think you’re right, huh?”

Before Goku could respond, you leaned forward, your face dangerously close to his. “I think you’re wrong. I’ve always been right.”

Goku’s eyes widened for a moment as he stared at your lips, the space between them shrinking with every heartbeat. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to argue or kiss you. The tension between you was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Then, with the entire group watching in silence, you slowly leaned back and chuckled. “I’m always right, Goku. And you know it.”

You stood up to leave, but Goku followed you, standing just a little too close as he whispered, “You know I’m gonna win, right?”

You glanced over your shoulder, locking eyes with him. “You’ve already lost, Goku.”

Before you could leave, Goku grabbed your wrist gently, pulling you back toward him. The others watched in stunned silence as he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a swift, fiery kiss.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. It was passionate, all-consuming. And when you guys pulled away, both of you were breathless, both of your hearts pounding.

“Alright,” Bulma said from the other side of the table, clearly not surprised. “I think we can all agree on one thing: Finally.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Alternative Confession ੈ✩‧₊˚

The next day, the group went out for a quick mission—nothing too serious, just a small task that required a little teamwork. Of course, Goku and you ended up being paired together.

As the two of you worked together, dodging enemies and supporting each other, it was impossible to ignore the growing tension. Every time you exchanged a look, every time Goku’s hand brushed against your back as you worked in sync, the connection between you guys grew stronger.

Finally, during a quiet moment when both of you were taking a break, you turned to face Goku. “So, are you ever going to stop teasing me?” you asked, crossing your arms, trying to keep your cool.

Goku, still sweaty from the fight, wiped his forehead and gave you a cocky smile. “What, are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad,” you said, but your voice was a little softer than usual. “I’m just tired of waiting for you to do something about all this.”

Goku blinked, a bit confused. “Do something about what?”

“About us, Goku,” you muttered, feeling the heat creep into your cheeks. “This—whatever this is between us—can’t keep going on like this.”

Goku stepped closer, his smile fading into something more serious. “And what do you want me to do about it?” he asked, his voice low and intimate.

“I want you to stop acting like you don’t feel the same way,” you said softly. “I’m done pretending.”

Goku reached out, his fingers brushing your jawline as he tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “You’re right,” he murmured, before closing the distance and pressing his lips against yours in a kiss that was no longer tentative or playful. It was deep, full of desire, and full of everything you had been holding back for so long.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Time Skip ੈ✩‧₊˚

The stars twinkled above the two of you, your gentle glow the only light in the quiet night. Goku had a way of making everything feel so... simple. And in this moment, with the weight of everything you'd been through, it almost felt like it was just you guys, no world-ending threats, no training, no distractions—just this moment.

Goku shifted uncomfortably, his usual carefree grin a little absent as he fidgeted with his hands. He wasn’t used to this kind of thing, but he knew it was right. He’d faced powerful foes, travelled across galaxies, but there he was, battling something far scarier—his own heart.

“I don’t have anything special to give you...” Goku began, his voice quieter than usual. He gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t have a ring or anything like that. But what I can give you...” He stepped forward, eyes locked on you, his expression serious. “...is all of me. My heart. My strength. Everything I have. Because you’ve always been there for me, and I want to be there for you, always.”

Your heart fluttered at the sincerity in his voice. Goku, the warrior who never backed down from a fight, now standing before you, vulnerable, his heart laid bare.

Goku shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a little unsure, but the love in his eyes was undeniable. "I don’t need a ring to show you how much I care," he added with a soft smile. “No matter where you are, I’ll be there. No matter where life takes us, even if I have nothing else, I will come to you with nothing but my love. Will you marry me?”

[sweetheartsnips]

Random DBZ characters x GN reader first date headcanons

Just dropping some HCs off for some underappreciated DBZ/DBS characters.

This is just some fluff, really. SFW but I am an 18+ blog so minors DNI as per usual. Gender neutral reader.

Enjoy!

Piccolo

Piccolo would take you somewhere peaceful and intimate, where the two of you could have some privacy. Probably to a remote waterfall or pond where he usually meditates–places that are comfortable and familiar to him that are unlikely to overwhelm either of you.

He would approach a first date with quiet intensity, almost as if it were a goal that needed to be overcome. Despite the outward air of seriousness, deep down he would be quite nervous and awkward, purely because he would want to do a good job and impress you. 

Piccolo would show his care in quiet yet practical ways. Ensuring that you’re comfortable outside, making sure you’re warm, or subtly positioning himself between you and anything that has the smallest chance of being a threat (death glaring a wasp).

Never one for small talk, conversation would be minimal at first, with long stretches of comfortable silence. However, do not be surprised if he tries to share some existential wisdom from his training, or try to teach you about the nature around you. There is also a chance he cracks a dry, sarcastic joke. Making you laugh would make his heart skip a beat.

If the date ends well, he might offer an almost hesitant, yet fond nod, or give your head a little pat before parting ways, until you meet again. 

Zamasu 

Zamasu would take you somewhere grand, somewhere he would consider ‘sophisticated’. Perhaps an elegant tea house (with all the flavours and sweet treats), or a floating temple: somewhere where he could flex his knowledge of the universes to you. 

He would have complete confidence in his ability to woo you, prior to your date. He is a divine being, after all. 

Zamasu would initially act polite and composed, displaying impeccable manners, but his arrogance would quickly reveal itself. Throughout your date, he would speak at length about his beliefs, monologing about justice and how transitory mortal life is.

However, he would consider you somebody ‘worthy of his caliber’, and this would be evident in his small gestures. Things like resting a hand on your back, or maybe even linking his arm with yours. All while trying to hide the blush on his cheeks and the glances he was sneaking at you. 

If you challenged or questioned his views, he’d laugh, intrigued yet slightly annoyed. He wouldn’t admit to enjoying his time with you, but he would find you intellectually stimulating, particularly when you point out that life being short can sometimes be a good thing. 

“You are… different from the other mortals.”

Whether that’s a compliment or a warning, time would tell. 

Android 17

17 would offer a date with a casual, adventurous atmosphere. Maybe a hike around the island, or a quiet walk along an empty beach in the stillness of sunset.

He wouldn’t get too carried away planning for the date or getting himself ready, he believes that less can be more, and doesn’t want to make you nervous with an extravagant arrangement. 

17 would not be one for flowery compliments, but he would show his interest through little acts, like letting you hold onto him while walking on uneven ground, or teaching you about all the animals on the island with a confident smile. He would love how your eyes would light up when he showed you an animal or plant you’d never seen before. Or when you’d ask him questions about nature, and he could sate your curiosity with his vast knowledge. 

If you asked him about himself to get to know him better, he would avoid answering directly and with a smirk. But if you were persistent enough, he might share something insightful that would linger in your mind (like hinting at the fact that he is an android!). 

When your date would come to an end, he’d give a short, genuine “This was nice,” before heading off, leaving just enough mystery to make you want to see him again. 

Caulifla 

Caulifla would treat her date more like a fun challenge rather than a traditional romantic outing. No flowers or chocolates here, folks. She would take you somewhere unorthodox like a bustling evening street market, a high-energy race, or maybe even invite you to come watch her beat somebody up. 

Whilst getting ready, Caulifla would act like she had you totally bagged, more so to convince herself so she didn’t have a nervous meltdown and call for Cabba. 

During your date, she wouldn’t openly admit she’s having a great time, but her excited grin and how she would linger close to you would be a dead giveaway. If you really rub off on her, she might give you a playful swat. “You’re not half bad. Don’t get soft on me, though.” 

She would tease you, poking at your cheeks and making fun of your blush. Not enough to actually upset you, of course, but enough to ruffle your feathers and make you swoon. Expect lots of light-hearted physical contact: hand-holding or resting her chin on your shoulder. 

Caulifla is not one for shy or coy goodbyes. If you’re lucky, she might just pull you into a hurried, impulsive kiss before dashing off with a cocky wink and a wave. 

Hit

The stoic assassin would like to keep things cool and minimalistic, choosing a location that is quiet but not too personal. Maybe a chill bar late at night, or a rooftop overlooking the city. Somewhere inconspicuous, where he can enjoy your company. 

Hit would approach your date with his usual calm, ignoring the flicker of nerves in his stomach. He was a successful hitman, but going on a date with you was seemingly enough to make him second guess himself.

He would not partake in a lot of small talk, content for there to be quiet between your conversations. But when he does speak, each word is deliberate and meaningful. He would keep tabs on your surroundings with a watchful eye, making sure that the two of you would not run into any situations that would endanger your safety. 

Hit would observe you closely, noting every small shift in your body language, every reaction and expression on your face. Not to be intrusive, but just calculating and analytical. He would remain respectful, but he would also admire your appearance quietly. If you could keep up with his cryptic, dry humour, he might give you a tiny smile. 

Afterwards, he would say something simple but meaningful. “I don’t usually make time for things like this, but I’m glad I did.” 

Then he would be gone, before you could even say goodbye. Not before he asked you out for a second date, of course.

[adoreeenina]

Our Future Awaits | Part 1

Relationship: Piccolo x Cat Hybrid! Reader

WC: 2.6k

Warning: None.

Summary: when two teens come out of nowhere, making the Z fighters wait for the arrival of Goku, Piccolo notices one of the two teens keep staring at him and his girlfriend. How strange. (Reader is Goku’s adopted sister)

“She’s staring again.”

“Hmm?” You stop mid sip of your orange soda that you’ve gotten from the two mystery strangers, as you turn to look at Bulma who is sitting beside you on a rock. “Who?”

“The girl.” Bulma whispers. With a raised brow, you face the girl who sits next to the lavander haired man. Making eye contact, the girl blush at being caught and turns to look away.

“Weird.” You comment.

“She keeps staring at Piccolo too.”

“I’ve noticed that too. She probably hasn’t seen a Namekian before.” You shrug before sipping the last bit of your soda and crush it with your hand.

You lean forward and rub at your thighs, trying to soothe your soreness. You grimace at the discomfort between your legs and thighs.

Bulma notices and gets worried, “What’s wrong?”

“Just sore.”

“Sore? You never get sore. Last time I checked you haven’t been training much since planet Namek.”

“I’m not sore because of training, Bulma.” You grumble.

“If you’re not sore from training than how else would you be sore fro—“ Bulma cuts herself off when you glance at Piccolo who is a couple feet away from the both of you.

Piccolo is sitting on a different boulder with his legs crossed and his eye closed, most likely meditating to pass the time.

Bulma mouth drops to the floor at the new revelation she had just discovered, seeing the look on her face, you start to shake your head frantically. She does have the tendency to be over dramatic with things like this.

“Oh my-“

“Bulma no-“ you attempt to stop her. Ofcourse it didn’t work.

“You slut!” You wince at her high pitched voice so close to your ear.

“Bulma shut up!” You shove her shoulder, but that’s doesn’t seem to falter her reaction at the slightest.

“You didn’t.”

“…”

“You did!” Bulma’s mouth drop as you try to ignore her by playing with your ring, “You have to tell me everything!”

“No, I don’t!” Your ear flick downwards in annoyance.

“Yes, you do. How was it? Was it big? Piccolo is tall so he has to be packing too.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you, Bulma.” You turn your head to avoid looking at Bulma as your cheeks flush with color.

“Aww why not!”

“First of all,” you hold up a finger up when you look at Bulma, “I’m pretty sure, Piccolo could hear you. Poor man is blushing. Look at him.” You point at your boyfriend, who clearly overheard your conversation, the blush on his cheeks proves enough. “Secondly, my sex life in none of your business.”

“Fine.” Bulma pouts before looking at you with grin, “But at least tell me one thing.”

“What?” You groan.

“Was it good?”

You sigh, your tail swaying side to side behind you as you think of a good response without revealing too much and to not embarrass Piccolo more than you’ve already planned to.

“Honestly,” you start with a smirk when you notice Piccolo is now looking at you, “Piccolo is a fantastic lover.”

The look on Piccolo’s face is a look you would never forget.

Piccolo’s eyes dodged around anxiously. His hands became sweaty as well as his heart rapidly beating. 

A soft sigh left your lips as you shifted slightly in Piccolo's lap, his grip around your waist tightened in response before relaxing as he opened his eyes to look down at you. Your head rested on his shoulder and your hands were settled on his forearms which are circled around your hips.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just a little sore and tired.” You groan.

“Was I too rough last night?”

“Not like I didn’t enjoy it.” You tease.

“Fucking tease.” Piccolo grins.

His hand started wandering a bit, rubbing over your stomach and gently kneading your belly before running further.

His large hands went to massage over your outer hip and thigh, down your upper leg to your knee and back up, repeating the same motions a few times, accompanied by soft squeezes whenever he felt it fit.

“Better?” Piccolo gruff voice whispers next to your ear.

“Much better.” You sigh blissfully.

After short silence between the two of you, Piccolo decided to speak up.

“What do you think about the new couple?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve noticed the girl keep side eyeing us. I find it strange and it’s annoying.”

“I also find it strange. The boy keeps looking at Vegeta too. If I didn’t know any better I’d think he has a little crush on the “Prince”.”you laugh as you did air quotes.

Piccolo shakes his head amusedly.

“She looks familiar.”

“How? You’ve seen her before?” You ask with a raised brow. Both you and Piccolo face the girl.

She does kinda look like someone you know, but it’s hard to pinpoint her face. She does have a sharp jawline and nose. Her face does resemble a lot of Piccolo now as you pay attention, but that’s could just be a coincidence. From what you’ve been told Namekian’s can’t produce the same way as humans.

Feeling eyes on her, the girl turns her head to see you and Piccolo shamelessly staring at her. Her eyes widen with her ears turning red from embarrassment. She leans closer to the lavander haired boy and uses his broader frame to cover her from your sight.

"What are you looking at?!" Vegeta hissed, glaring at the younger Saiyan as he sat on a rock not too far away.

It seems like the girl wasn’t the only one with a staring problem.

"Oh, uh... Nothing! It's just that I, uh... Like your shirt..." He replied nervously, cursing himself internally for not thinking of a better excuse.

"You would..." Vegeta mumbled in annoyance before sending a glare towards Tien and Yamcha who were trying their hardest to keep their laughter under control.

“C’mon Vegeta, leave the kid alone. He’s not harming anyone!” You shout at Vegeta.

“Stay out of this, woman!” Vegeta glares harshly at you.

You feel Piccolo’s body stiffen behind you, he bristles at the way Vegeta raised his voice at you but try to remain composed.

“Watch how you speak to her, Vegeta! I’m not afraid to go for another rematch!” He growls, flashing his canine’s at Vegeta.

“Piccolo.” You try to calm him by rubbing your palms up and down against his forearms. He only managed to relax slightly but he was still on guard.

Vegeta brows scrunched together in distaste as he watch the sight just a few yards from him. His lips curving up into a sneer before he looked away with a scoff.

A few feet away, Bulma and Krillin were seated on a large flat rock, sitting in silence until the blue haired scientist thought of something interesting.

"Hey! Now check this out..." Bulma whispered, talking behind her hand to Krillin as he leaned closer. “Is it me? Or do those two kind of... Look alike?"

"Well, now that you mention it... I can kind of see a resemblance..." Krillin answered, looking at Vegeta and the purple haired boy a bit closer. "Well I mean, just in looks... That other guy seems pretty nice... But Vegeta has the personality of a stump."

"Well, he's a prince..." Bulma went on, making Luna go silent as she continued to listen in.

"So what?"

"Prince's have to act bored, like the world's not good enough for them..." Bulma explained, staring towards the Saiyan as Krillin looked confused.

"Vegeta seems more agitated than bored..." Krillin admitted, scratching his head as he looked towards the angry prince as well. "I just hope he decides to Stay on our side..."

"Why do you keep looking over here?! Haven't you ever seen a pink shirt before?" Vegeta shouted suddenly, causing everyone around them to fall silent. "If you like it that much you can have it!"

"No... No thank you..."

"Then knock it off, kid!" Vegeta growled, looking away again as you noticed the tiniest smile creep across the strange fighter's face. The girl next to him shoves her shoulder against his, and gives him a look.

“The girl kinda looks like Y/n, don’t you think?” Krillin folds his arms across his chest.

“I do. But it’s weird. She kinda looks like Piccolo too. They have the same sharp jawline and nose.”

“But that doesn’t make sense, Namekian’s can’t produce like humans.”

“That’s the part I don’t get.”

Both Krillin and Bulma looks between the girl and to the couple. You were falling asleep against Piccolo’s chest when a small beep from the lavender haired man's watch got everyone's attention as he stood up, pressing the button on the side before speaking. "Hey, uh... That's it! Two hours have passed! Goku should be arriving any second now..."

Everyone looked around, waiting for whatever was about to happen as Bulma jumped up excitedly.

"Really?!"

"Okay..." Gohan mumbled, sensing for his father's energy but finding nothing. A few moments later Piccolo's eyes widened, sensing a familiar ki as everyone else instantly felt the same thing.

"Oh my gosh Tien!" Chiaotzu said happily, looking towards the source of the energy as he tried to see him approaching.

"I know! I feel it too Chiaotzu!"

"He's coming!" You said in surprise as you jump off of Piccolo’s lap, overjoyed that your brother was finally returning home.

"Man, that guy was right after all..." Yamcha admitted, staring towards the sky as Bulma scanned the horizon for any sign of a ship.

"You're all nuts... My woman's intuition isn't picking up anything right now..." She said seriously, continuing to look around.

"No, it's true! He's finally home! My dad's back! Hahaha!" Gohan cheered happily.

"Look, up there!" You said, pointing up at the tiny ship that had just broken through the atmosphere. It was heading towards them all incredibly fast, soaring over their heads loudly before slamming into the ground not too far away. Clouds of dust filled the air as everyone looked on in shock, unable to move for a moment as the smoke began to clear.

"Woah... Cool..."

"Last one there's a rotten egg!"

"Hey! Wait for me!"

All of them dashed forward, Piccolo, Vegeta and you flying over head, as they all made their way towards the edge of a giant crater.

"Wow... What a crater!" Gohan said excitedly, unable to take his eyes off of the ship at the bottom.

"Yeah, no kidding... Boom! What a landing!" Krillin laughed, staring towards the ship below as well. "I hope he has some air bags in that baby..."

"Why? To protect the ship from Goku's head?" Yamcha chuckled as Tien agreed with a laugh.

"Yeah, really!"

Everyone watched in anticipation as the door to the ship opened before a familiar figure stepped out, looking at them all in shock before speaking.

"Hey guys.." Goku said slowly, clearly surprised to see all his friends waiting for him.

“Goku?” Tears starts falling down your cheeks, happy seeing your brother alive and well, “Goku!” You jump into the giant crater to his arms, wrapping yours around his neck.

He picks you up happily and twirls you around, happy to see you.

“I missed you so much.” You say once he puts you down, Goku smiles down at you and wipes away any fallen tears with his thumb.

"What took you so long dad?!" Gohan cheered, a few happy tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he realized his father was finally home.

"Hi Goku!" Bulma said happily, waving a hand over her head as he hesitantly waved back.

"How in the world did you know I was going to be here?" Goku asked in confusion, floating up from the bottom of the giant crater while holding you against his side, still wondering how they all knew when and where he would arrive.

"These two told us!" You said cheerfully as you pointed at the couple, stepping away from Goku once he lands in front of the other Z fighters. "I think they might be a fan of yours..." you teased, giggling as the lavander haired man actually sent you a tiny glare while the girl blushes sheepishly.

You grin at the two couple. Behind you, Piccolo reaches for you by grabbing your wrist and pulls you back towards his front.

Goku frowned, looking at the strange couple for a minute as he tried his hardest to remember who they were. "Ah right..." He said uncertainly, fidgeting nervously as he spoke. "If it ain't you, you old so and So... It's been so long since I uh, I... Uh... I mean, you..."

"We've never met before." The girl explained quickly, knowing she had to find some way for them to speak in private.

"Oh thank God! Or Kami... Or King Kai... I dunno, that whole thing is screwy..." Goku laughed, letting out a relieved sigh.

"Yeah... That's what he said..." Bulma frowned, crossing her arms as she glanced between the three. “Then they must have been tracking your ship in outer space..."

"Really? I don't know.." Goku said, putting his hand under his chin as he thought about it. "Frieza tried to do that... But I could sense his energy level as he passed me... He sure was in a hurry to beat me home.. But my gosh, what in the world happened here you guys?!" He finished excitedly, eager to hear about what was no doubt a thrilling battle.

"Who defeated Frieza?" The Saiyan asked as everyone continued to stare at him. "Was it you Piccolo? Or was it you Vegeta?" He paused for a moment, glancing at them both before his eyes settled on you.

"Hmm... Or maybe Y/n!"

"None of us did..." Piccolo said calmly as he wraps an arm around your hips protectively, his usual frown ever present on his face as he directed his gaze towards the mysterious fighter. "It was this guy... He did it with ease."

"Huh?!"

"He turned into a Super Saiyan and picked him apart..." Piccolo finished as Goku stood there shocked.

"A Super Saiyan?! I can't believe it!" He said in surprise before smiling. "That's outstanding! Can you imagine? A Super Saiyan at his age... Fantastic!"

"Hey! Aren't you forgetting something?" Vegeta hissed, getting the man's attention as he looked his way. "You, your son and I are the only Saiyans still alive!"

You roll your eyes at Vegeta’s little pitty party. He’s obviously just jealous someone else managed to turn super saiyan before he did. Fucking dick. That’s called Karma. Asshole.

"Well, if he says he's a Super Saiyan then that's good enough for me." Goku said simply, nodding his head once as he grinned at the purple haired stranger.

"Oh honestly Goku! You take things way too lightly sometimes!" Bulma chastised, frowning at her friend as he stared back at her with a blank expression.

"No I don't..."

The lavender haired man actually cracked a smile, choosing to take the opportunity to accomplish what he and his companion came here to do. "Goku... Can we have a word with you?" He asked seriously as everyone grew quiet.

"With me?"

"Yes... Just the three of us..." The mysterious girl continued, pointing to the area on the other side of the massive crater.

"Alright then." Goku said seriously, the three of them turning to leave as everyone looked on in shock.

"Hey! What exactly is these guys trying to say?!" Yamcha growled, frowning as he glared at the other fighter.

"It's okay guys... I'll be right back!" Goku smiled, sending them all a small wave before they both flew a good distance away. Yamcha huffed, crossing his arms as you lean against Piccolo, wondering what all this was about...

[ashe-smash]

Baby Talk | Chapter 2: Ovulation Ao3 Piccolo x Reader (Female Reader) Previous Chapter

Tags/ CW: Infertility/Reproductive Incompatibility, Themes of Infertility, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alien/Human Relationships, Namekian Biology, Piccolo has a Diccolo, mention of periods, sex toy usage, egg toy, egg laying?, smut, fingering, oral sex (blowjob), PIV sex, emotional sex, roleplay, Breeding Kink Reader is described with hair that can be grabbed, mentions of grief (Later Chapters) Oviposition, Pregnancy, Alien Pregnancy. We're still in the Hurt of the Hurt/Comfort Folks.

Word Count: ~5.3k

You get your period a week later and it sucks. It usually sucks but this time it’s just the awful cherry on top.

There were times in years past when you praised the heavens you even got it at all. Now you don’t even have a reason to worry about it being late which seems extra cruel. Like pressing on a too fresh bruise. Your biology is taunting you by just doing its natural job. You hate to continue stewing on the topic when you and your partner have essentially come to a dead end on it. Do not pass Go, do not collect 200 zenni, no baby- now or ever. 

The worst part is that Piccolo hovers when he returns from training. It’s worse than it usually is. 

“Get over here, you big dork.” You kick off your blankets from the pathetic little nook you’ve created on the couch. 

“You don’t feel well.” Piccolo almost pouts (he’d never admit to it, play it off as his general bluntness.) 

“I’d feel better if my big strong boyfriend came over here and squished me.” You try to entice. 

Worst feeling of all is that he hesitates. You know it’s because he’s worried about you not feeling well- he likes to be helpful when you need him. So enticing him into snuggling up with you means he isn’t quite available like that. 

Admittedly, your relationship has hit a rough patch. Really, not much changes- you’re just sadder.  You’re not sure Piccolo understands abstract grief, if he quite understands grief at all. Sex is a little rocky, but Piccolo’s sex drive kind of depends on yours. He still holds you at night while you sleep and he meditates. 

It’s no one’s fault. Well, you wouldn’t blame Piccolo. 

You decide you need a weekend getaway together. Planning it gives you something to do while you’re too miserable to do anything deemed more important. You can look at beaches and mountains while you’re curled up in bed or the couch while you wait for the pain reliever or heating pad to do its work. You book a cabin for when work isn’t going to be busy and hope the world isn’t exploding or whatever then. 

You also decide to make the weekend as ‘normal’ as possible. You pack Piccolo clothes that aren’t his gi,  even if he’ll probably just end up wearing it anyways and drive to your destination. 

The two of you are settling into your vacation lodging. You’re doing something in the kitchen, probably snacking- Piccolo finds something else to do when you’re eating usually. He starts putting the things you’d packed for the weekend away in the set of drawers in the bedroom. 

Halfway through, he finds a little purple velvet bag he doesn’t recognize. 

Inside is an egg. It’s squishy but still has a bit of firmness to it and is swirled with different shades of green. On the wider side it has a little tail with a loop at the end. 

It’s clearly either a new acquisition or something you’ve never shown him. The latter would be odd, he’d seen a lot of your stuff when you’d moved into him. You even showed him your smutty alien romance books.  “What’s this?” 

Your eyes widen at the toy in his hand. 

“I thought, maybe.” You pause to collect your words, fidgeting a bit. Why are you nervous? “I thought maybe we could try… roleplay?” 

“I don’t think I know what that word is?” 

“It’s like … pretending? But during sex… to make it more interesting?” 

You’ve had to teach him pretty much everything about sex. This is a new one. The squishy egg thing is  still unknown. “So what’s this for?” 

Your cheeks are flushed. “I thought we could … pretend. It goes … in me?” Piccolo cocks his head, appraising the piece of silicone. If his eyes were lighter colored, you’d see his pupils dilate wide.  “It’s a silly idea, we don’t have to.” You say hurriedly. 

Piccolo wraps a hand around your forearm to pull you closer. “Can we try it now?” 

It flusters you for a second. “Yeah, big guy. We can try it now.” 

You need a moment to emotionally prepare yourself and clean up your snack. Plus you had an extra surprise planned for this. Piccolo retrieves extra bedding from the linen closet and makes a “bed”- little more than a nest of pillows and blankets in the main room. He worries about making a mess in the actual bed so this will do. 

You seem nervous when you join him, which is odd for you. You’ve always been the more confident one when it comes to bedroom activities. Even so, you smile at the little bed he’s kneeling in. It’s reminiscent of the beginning of your relationship, when he didn’t have a bed. “I’m not wearing cute undies.” You squeeze your fingers.

“That’s okay.” He doesn’t really care about your underwear choices, getting to see you in anything is great. He’s not particularly a connoisseur of women’s underwear. 

You shrug. “I thought it’d be fun… for this.” 

“You can change if you want.” Piccolo is plenty patient after all. 

“It’s alright… We might need lube though.” You glance back at the bedroom. Before you can go to retrieve it yourself, Piccolo extends his arm to snag the bottle of lube you’d packed in your bag. It’s tossed to the perimeter of the bedding.

“I need help with what I’m supposed to do.” Piccolo holds the little egg carefully between two fingers.

You shake your head. “We can just do the regular stuff. We don’t have to do that.” 

“I want to. Don’t you?” Piccolo cocks his head at you. You bought and packed it to be used right? 

He watches you hesitate, picking at a piece of dry skin on your bottom lip. He pries your hand away before you can make yourself bleed. “I guess I’m just not… ready.” 

“Not ready now or not ready until later?”

You shrug. Piccolo feels like he’s messed up. You’re a planner by nature- you probably had something planned and it’s thrown you off that he’s launched you straight into it. 

He sets the toy down next to the bottle of lube, deciding to forget about it for now. It might get lost in the sheets all together anyways. “Will you come lie down with me? I bet you’re tired from traveling, huh?” 

Before you climb into the little love nest, you shuck off your sweatpants. Your underwear are not as ghastly as you seem to think they are. A simple practical pair. He has a feeling that you had something “sexier” picked out, made of lace and straps. Your bra has been long since shucked off after arriving at your vacation lodging. 

You’re always up for a nice cuddle and he is right, you are tired. He rubs at the base of your neck and you practically purr. Maybe a nap would do you good and you’ll be right and ready after. 

“Lay on your stomach for me?” 

You look at him skeptically, but logically you know your partner isn’t one to cause mischief.  You tuck a pillow under your head and turn over.  

Laying on your stomach, in nothing but a pair of panties. Piccolo’s goal is to make you more comfortable.

He skips your lower half for now- you might need him to work out those muscles after fun times. Although it might be fun to pin you down and make you stretch your leg muscles while you squirm underneath him, Piccolo currently aims to actually accomplish his goal. 

Maybe later though. 

You’re always complaining about your back hurting, usually a result of sitting improperly while you work. You sigh as he works his thumbs into the knots. 

Slowly he works his hands up your back, over each segment of your spine. Piccolo spends the most time on your neck and shoulders. It’s where you’re holding the most tension. You do a very convincing job of enticing him to continue, groaning and sighing. 

Rubs his thumb into the base of your skull. You seem properly relaxed, laying slack in the floor bed. 

Piccolo slides a large hand from the back of your neck to under your jaw. Very gently he lifts your head so you look at him above you. 

“Hey Big Guy.” You smile lazily at him. Anyone else should be far more afraid with his hand around their throat. He ducks down, a little to the side to force you into a kiss. The position of the kiss forces him to drape over you, careful to not squish you too much. “Want me to touch you more?” 

You squirm, arching against him. You like it when he uses his size and weight against you. He’s usually extra careful about it but there are times when he can use it to his advantage. “Y-yeah, Lo.” 

Piccolo thinks you just need him to take the lead  tonight. People outside of the relationship probably assume Piccolo is the more dominant of the two of you. He’s bigger and stronger, he’s the “man.” In some ways it’s true, but more often than not you’re the one guiding the situation when it comes to the bedroom. He yields to you when it’s needed. 

He runs his knuckles over the crotch of your panties. “Here?” 

You nod wordlessly, lifting your hips as a means to entice him further. It’s not like it’s hard either. 

Back in the beginning of your relationship, you were quite concerned about taking ‘advantage’ of the Namekian- despite him being a more powerful being but you being the more experienced person. Tonight, he’s the one making sure everything is on track and fun. 

You lift your hips so he can pull off your underwear, finally leaving you fully naked for him. You’re already wet, not enough but more than your body’s natural wetness. 

He starts slowly, just barely touching you, splitting your folds with the back of his fingers. Clearly you’re pent up from the lack of intimacy in the relationship recently. Now that Piccolo thinks about it, he doesn’t think you’ve had any alone time either. 

Piccolo has learned he’s good with his fingers. It’s not hard to bring you towards release with them. Only very rarely does he deny you of it, but not today.

He might be relatively novice, but he did have a pretty good teacher. Works his fingers in and out of your spasming walls. Tucks his unoccupied hand around your hip and under you so he can rub circles around your clit. The position is a little awkward for that but it’s enough stimulation.  

Lying on your stomach gives him ample access to  the sensitive spot inside you.  He does wish he could see your face better in this position, but you’ve buried it in the pillow. 

He watches you grip at the pillow and the linens beneath you. All those muscles he worked so hard to rub out go tight, tight, tight and then finally, go completely lax. 

When he pulls his fingers out of you, he finds that the fluids left behind are clear and sticky. He unceremoniously wipes it in the bedding. You’re laid slack, trying to catch your breath,  “All done?” Piccolo asks,  rubbing gently where the back of your thigh meets your butt cheek.

It takes a second before you can calm your breathing, or maybe find your voice. You turn your head to look at him, seemingly thinking for a minute. 

“Can I give you a blowjob?” 

Piccolo makes a face. He’s never quite understood the appeal of that. Sure, your mouth is warm and wet like the entrance between your legs but one doesn’t have teeth and doesn’t involve sticking his dick into where you breathe from. You’ve admitted you don’t mind him not particularly liking them. 

But you’re asking to do it, so that must mean you want to. 

“I’m not… out yet.” Aroused yes, but it’s not uncommon when he needs a little extra effort for this part. 

“You know I don’t mind.” In all honesty, his anatomy isn’t too dissimilar to yours when he’s sheathed. It doesn’t quite provide the same stimulation as it does for you, but it does mean you perform similar foreplay acts on him. Usually that’s about as close as he lets you get with your mouth, using your tongue on his slit. 

Like he’s learned how to satisfy you, you’ve learned how to for his body. A little coaxing with your fingers and he slides right out for your waiting mouth. You guide him to grip at your hair, seeming pleased when he takes a good fistful. Bobbing your head with a nod and humming around him. 

Eventually you dare to go deeper, he’d probably barely notice it he couldn’t feel your gag reflex reacting to the intrusion. You’re going slow enough that it’s not a problem. 

It’s hard to keep his hips still. Despite his logical mind being weary of this act, the baser part of his instincts do very much want to grip you by the skull and drive his cock down as far down your throat as it can go. Hard. So he just grips at your hair a little tighter. 

Piccolo thinks you’re doing a very good job at trying to be enticing. At your height difference with this position, you can’t even reach the hilt, but it’s enough. But it’s hard to watch you struggle, even if both of you are seemingly enjoying it. 

“I’m not going to … finish like this.” It feels good, sure, you’re very good at whatever you’re doing with your mouth. Maybe it’s a mental thing. He’s let you have your amusement. 

“You wanna come inside me?” You coo sweetly, continuing to mouth at his shaft. He grunts, tugging your hair again, this time to try to redirect you to the next part. 

A little giggle bubbles out of you, before you flop back into the blankets. If it wouldn’t mean practically tackling you, he would have caught you to make sure you don’t bump your head. 

“The toy can’t go in before…” You kind of nod your head. “Maybe after, okay?” 

Piccolo nods. “What else should I do?” 

“Just dirty talk I guess. Say what you wanna do to me with the toy.” Piccolo ponders. He’s never been quite good at that part. “I can help with it, bud.” You add, easing him back into your little love nest. 

You decide to be on top- another uncommon occurrence in your bedroom activities. Piccolo’s hips are hard to accommodate in this position and you don’t always have the endurance in your hips and knees to  keep up with it. The position lets him slip deeper than any of them, the blunt end of his cock nudging against the plug of your womb. Makes you gasp. 

“Too much?” 

You rock against him. “Jus’ gotta get used to it. Can feel you all the way here.” You pet across your lower stomach. 

He should have been more diligent about keeping you stretched out, even if you aren’t actively having sex in recent times. But it really only does take a moment and then you’re putting in a valiant effort to bounce on his cock. 

“You wanna put the egg in me? Deep like this,” you guide his hand to press into the fat of your tummy. “Right here?” 

Oh this is the Roleplay thing. 

A growl rumbles deep from his chest. Your eyes go wide and your hips stutter in response. Then you surge forward to kiss him a little too eagerly and he has to catch you so you don’t smash your face into his. It’d likely hurt you more than him. 

Like this your movements turn more into grinding than bouncing. He flexes his hips to push himself deeper into you. “You want it bad too, huh?” 

“Ye- yeah, Lo.”

He takes the initiative and grabs you to flip both of you over. It makes you squeal in surprise. For a moment, Piccolo loses himself in the fantasy. He almost believes that if he indeed tried hard enough, he could fuck you hard enough that it would take. (If he weren’t mostly concerned about how you feel wrapped around him, he’d wonder where that urge comes from.) 

Piccolo knows you’ll stop him if he’s being too rough. Your fingernails trace the ridges on his arms. They dig in as you try to hang onto him, it doesn’t really hurt as he has thicker skin, but he is aware of the feeling. 

You’re perfect. Warm, tight, clenching around his cock. His partner, mate, whatever. Love of his life. Future mother of his-

It should give him pause, but instead it hits him like a train. “You just gotta come for me big guy.” You lock your legs around him best you can. It should be embarrassing, how easily you can coax him into an orgasm. But how could it be when you’re so very convincing? 

It hits hard, cumming feels like he’s been wrung completely dry. For all the resolve he’s put into training his muscles, now they seem particularly useless. He goes slack on top of you. 

Piccolo is heavy. It’s rare he rests his full weight on top of you to prevent actually squashing you. You like it though. At this moment, he needs it. Needs to stay inside you for a little bit longer, so close there’s no difference between where you end and he begins. 

“It’s not often you’re the one tired out after one round.” You coo, breathily. It’s hard to catch your breath when your giant boyfriend is doing his best impression of your weighted blanket. 

Piccolo's stamina has nothing to do with this, even if it was particularly intense. 

You shiver a little when Piccolo pulls out, unplugging your entrance and letting his fluids dribble out of you. It’s noticeably a lot more than usual- clear evidence of the lack of intimacy between you two as of late. 

You whine at the feeling, attempting to clamp your legs together. Or maybe because your boyfriend is openly staring at your pussy. The evidence of his climax is clear as day. “You didn’t come.” 

You shrug half heartedly. “I was close.” You once explained to him, sometimes it just doesn’t happen. That’s probably especially true when your partner comes embarrassingly fast. “We weren’t supposed to be done after you’re finished.” 

You half roll over to rifle through fabric, procuring the items deposited there. The little toy- the egg and the lube. It’s a little bigger than a chicken egg. “I can do it if you don’t want to.” No, he definitely wants to do it. 

“I can do it.” 

You give him a little nod. Reassurance for you or him, he’s not sure. “Just push it in gently with your fingers. Not too deep, I don’t want to struggle getting it out.” 

Some sick part of Piccolo does like the idea of that. Maybe a larger one, that you have to push and push and push to free it from your body. It slides in easily with some lube and the mixture of your fluids. He watches you clench around the silicone toy. 

“How does it feel?” If he pressed his fingers into the flesh of your pubic mound, he could probably feel it inside of you if he pushed hard enough. That’d probably be uncomfortable so he just caresses there firmly. 

You whimper, your hips twitching to meet his fingers. “It’s just kind of a pressure. Feels full- Good job, you did a good job.” 

Piccolo’s cock twitches to life again, it hasn’t sheathed yet. That feral feeling has twitched to life again too. Hauls you into his lap so he can notch against your hole. 

“Careful!” Your hips jump a little, he’s not sure if you’re trying to retreat or seek more stimulation. 

He cocks his head at you. “We gotta… complete the goal, right? Can’t just put the egg in you.” He keeps a hand splayed across your pelvis. You whine, head bobbing a little. Your eggs have to be fertilized. It doesn’t make sense- he doesn’t even produce sperm. Piccolo knows he can’t penetrate you now, you told him such and he knows how to listen. “I won’t go in, just… close enough.” He pushes against your folds. It’s slick and you’re just getting wetter. 

He can't help but be entranced by the way you clench around the toy. That must be the point of the toy, to put pressure on your g-spot without actual penetration. The simulation of a part of his own biology is just an added bonus. He wonders if you could keep it inserted throughout the day another time. Will you want to use the toy again? Or is it just for this special occasion? 

Your back bows more and more while he rubs practiced circles against your clit.  Gently, he pushes his fingers back into you to press the toy harder against your walls. He's being careful, keeping the little tail tucked between them. “Do a good job for me too. Come for me .” You whine again. Now that he’s got his fingers inside you he can feel it, clenching tight tight tight. Keeping an even pace with his other hand around your bud. 

“Wait-” You cry but it's already too late. The wave comes crashing over you and with it a tidal of fluids gushing out of you. “Oh shit-” 

Piccolo pushes forward and replaces his fingers inside you with his cock, not in- just enough that the blunt head is pushed in a little. You struggle to find purchase somewhere to hold on, but it does prove helpful as you touch all over his shoulders and arm and chest.  All it takes him is one and then two firm strokes of himself and his own wave comes crashing over him. 

“Good job.” He groans as he rides through his own second orgasm. You shiver when he pushes himself through your folds once again. He rewards you with kisses pressed to your face. 

Piccolo rolls off you this time- sparing you the full body contact. You cross your arms loosely over your chest, he watches it heave as you come back to your brain. Gives you a minute or two before he sits himself up to move on to the next part.  “Are you going to lay here for a while?” 

You roll over a little, cringing at the feeling of the cooling fluids between your legs. It's all over you honestly. “We should clean up- I gotta get this thing out of me first, it can’t stay in for too long.” 

“Do you need help with that part?” He did put it in after all, he could have pulled it out when he had his fingers in you before. That might have proved to be unsatisfactory at the moment however. 

“No it’s easy enough to remove- it’s why it’s got the tail. I just gotta-“ You roll over fully so you can sit up. You wobble a bit, your legs and hips and likely your whole body turned to jello. 

Piccolo wraps a strong arm around your shoulders to steady you. You make a noise somewhere between a hum and a groan, knocking your forehead against his shoulder. “Dizzy?” 

“A little.” 

“Take your time.” He can hold you for as long as you need. 

You take another moment before reaching between your legs. You’re trying to take it slow, either prolong the feeling or delay the ending all together. Maybe next time you’ll let him feel you doing it, or even do it himself.  You grunt a little. He hears a soft pop as you pull the toy out of your entrance. 

You pull your face away from where your forehead rested against his shoulder. There are a few wet lines running the lengths of your cheeks. You’re crying. “Did that hurt?” Piccolo thumbs at a fat tear. 

You jerk back, like you’ve been startled. “No, it’s fine.” Your voice betrays you, cracking. You turn your face away, hiding it as you wipe away the tears. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“S’nothing, it just happens sometimes. Hormones or something.” You shrug. You’ve never cried after sex before, not with Piccolo at least. Maybe a tear or two that escapes during pleasure, but not like this. 

“You’re really okay?” You nod with your face hidden in your hands. “… you’ll feel better if we get cleaned up. Do you want a bath, shower?” You probably feel pretty gross. 

You deflate. “Not right now.” 

Piccolo resorts to picking you up to go to the  bathroom. Lets you use the toilet in private while he retrieves clean things for you both. Forgoes any of the pajamas you’d packed for yourself and picks out one of his shirts instead. His clothes usually end up in your wardrobe eventually, although it has grown significantly since the two of you started dating. He also grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. 

He hears the sink running when he returns. Steam billows up from the faucet, indicating you let the flow heat up. You just stare at it. 

Piccolo picks you up again, setting you on the counter which makes you shiver. Puts the bottle of water in your hands. “I’m sorry.” He’s partially apologizing for you being cold, but maybe also the other stuff. 

You shake your head. “Not your fault. I thought it’d be fun.” 

You don’t seem particularly motivated to actually get to the task at hand: cleaning yourself up. It’s alright, he can do it. 

He’d seen you fish your toiletries bag out of your luggage when the two of you’d first arrived. First, he turns down the temperature of the water to wet a washcloth. Hands it to you with some of your face wash deposited on the cloth. Hopefully it will help calm some of the splotchiness on your face from crying. 

Rinses the cloth thoroughly after you hand it back. He only lets you clean your face since it’s easier, he has big hands and doesn’t particularly want to poke you in the eye. To help, he does a diligent job of wiping between your legs. “You didn’t enjoy it at all?” 

Your eyes go wide- for a second he thinks you might start crying again. “I did- it felt good- I just-“ You’re not close enough to starting your period again for you to be feeling like this. Cracked open like an egg, raw.

“Shh, deep breath. I’m not upset.” Piccolo smooths a big hand over the side of your face. He’s just worried he pushed a boundary he didn’t quite know existed. 

You lean into him, which is a good sign that you’re not upset or uncomfortable by him. “The sex was fine. I just-” you worry your bottom lip with your teeth for a second. “I thought we could find satisfaction with the toy.” 

“I pushed you to use it before you were ready.” 

“I’m the one who bought and packed it. I thought I’d be fine with playing and then I had to-  I didn’t think it through all the way, Lo.” You sigh. Piccolo rubs your temple. He’s only so good at the soothing part.

“We’ve been naked too long.” You grumble, pushing off the counter after a few minutes of silent comforting.  You go grab a dry towel. He watches you in the mirror as you dry off. He cleans himself and washes his hands, you set to work on putting your clothes. Well you pick them up from where he set them on top of the toilet. 

“You know I’m not just… sad right?” You fiddle with your underwear. “I’m trying not to be but it’s not just being sad. It’s grieving, but not like if I lost something or someone. Like I’m grieving something I’ll never know.” 

Piccolo doesn’t know what to say. 

“It’s okay if you don’t understand.” You’re idling to put your clothes on still, so he’s able to pull his pants on before you even step into your underwear. 

You’re used to this part in your relationship. Sometimes Piccolo needs time to process and learn what things actually mean. Right now it feels like it’s never been this severe. 

He pulls his shirt from your grip, deciding to let you put your underwear on.  Maybe he’s letting you keep that boundary, even if that really doesn’t make much logical sense. Pulling it over your head for you. 

You decide to skip the underwear all together once you stick your arms through the sleeves. “I’m going to go to the bedroom, okay?” 

Piccolo follows, much like he always does.

“You can go out if you want.” You tuck yourself into the duvet on the bed. You’re likely going to take a post sex nap. You were ready to have a good cuddle and take a nap before everything. The emotions probably didn’t help on that front either. 

Piccolo frowns. You’ve been offering that more, letting him leave when you’re planning on resting or even just sleeping at night. It was fairly common in the beginning of your relationship. Back then he didn’t always hold you when you slept, but he did often stay with you at least.

He knows he’s absolutely going to not do that. He slides into the bedding with you. Slots a thick thigh between yours and wraps his arms around yours. His fist settles against your sternum so he can feel your heartbeat. His other arm pillows your hands head, you give his palm a kiss before you interlock your fingers with his. 

The position forces you to settle, like he’s wrestled you into a nap. Instead of following suit and closing his eyes, Piccolo watches you as you lie in his arms. 

“Bud, you know I can’t sleep if you’re staring.” 

“Sometimes, I miss you. But not because I haven’t seen you, I miss you like you’re… gone.” There will be someday when he will never see you again. Piccolo will outlive you and he’s never realized that's what he’s feeling. 

You’re feeling that for something, someone who will never exist. 

“I wish… I could give you an …egg? Maybe just a baby, I guess.” He’s decided to try a new game of Pretending.  

You’re silent for a moment. “You’re lucky I don’t mind, that's as weird as it sounds.” You make a plucking motion at him, pretending to eat something. “How would that even work? Swallow it and puke up a baby?” 

It wouldn’t. It’s not possible anyways but he lets you entertain it.  Maybe he is too. 

“… I think you’re the weird one.” 

“Alright, Green Bean.” 

Piccolo pinches your thigh, makes you giggle. “I thought you were napping?” Ignore the fact he’s the one who is keeping you up to begin with. 

You yawn. “I wish … we had takeout.” 

“I can get it for you.”

“I want it to just magically appear though!” You make a tiny pinching motion with your fingers again. “You should make a tiny set of dragon balls- for the silly things. Like the size of marbles.” 

“Ours are the smallest set. You do know they aren’t always used for serious stuff.” 

“For Chinese food though?” 

Honestly, the dragon balls have been used for less for serious stuff- like resurrection of people or planets and more for things like Bulma’s cosmetic alterations,  woman’s panties. Piccolo shrugs. “I guess probably not that.” 

“See! We need tiny ones, maybe there’d only be like… four. The dragon could be … a snake. Wait then they’d be snake balls.” 

Piccolo rolls himself over onto his back, still keeping you close. “I need to meditate to forget this conversation.” 

You snort. Your silly little game (annoy your boyfriend for your own amusement) has been won, even if you were the one playing it. He sees you open your mouth to say something again, but covers your mouth before you can. “Nap.” 

You settle again now that your mood is lighter. Still a little sad, but you might always be. You silently decide that next weekend trip or getaway will probably include Pan. 

[lilyswrittenworks]

XXI | Getting Properly Acquainted

Warning(s): Cursing, blood, alcohol consumption, humor, and sensitive topics (it's only mentioned once!)

Word Count: 11.3K

Synopsis: It had been three months since you and Piccolo had become an item. You had experienced nothing but pure love and tenderness. Then one day you get a text message.

━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━

“Heey, girl! In celebration of your speedy recovery, I thought it was time to gather up our friends and hang out for old time’s sake. Meet us at Way Out Bar at 7PM this Saturday!”

It had been over an hour since you’d gotten Jenny’s message, and you were still riding the high of excitement it brought. You lay sprawled on your bed, the phone still open in your hand, the message burning bright on the screen like a warm little beacon of joy.

This would be your first time seeing all of them outside the sterile white walls of the hospital. No wires. No beeping monitors. No faint scent of antiseptic in the air. Just you, your friends, and a night that promised to feel like living again. The last time you saw them, you were weak, barely able to sit up straight. They’d come in shifts with flowers, chocolates, gossip, and laughter—but it never felt right. You were smiling through the pain. Numb with fatigue. And now?

Thanks to Dende's healing, you were whole again. And it was time to live.

Your closet doors were already flung open, and the bed behind you looked like a fashion tornado had ripped through it. Jumpers, jeans, crop tops, rompers, even that one weird sequin top Jenny got you as a gag gift—it was all strewn about in the chaos of indecision.

“A dress?” you muttered to yourself, holding one up in front of the mirror before shaking your head. “Too fancy. Too ‘wedding guest.’” You tossed it aside. “Romper. Yeah. Romper is fun. Playful. Breezy. Easy to pee in…”

You snorted to yourself and held two up side by side: one black with delicate gold thread running through it, and another with a warm burgundy floral print that hugged your curves just right.

And then, it hit you—an idea that completely derailed your train of thought.

What if Piccolo came with you?

Your hands slowly lowered, the rompers falling forgotten onto the bed as your arms crossed over your chest, the spark of curiosity giving way to a gentle flutter in your chest.

Would he go?

You could already imagine their reactions. Jenny would 100% scream. Amelia would probably drop her drink. Henry might start interrogating him like an overprotective big brother. Elias would be welcoming without judgment. Luka will be cautious around new people. But deep down, you wanted your friends to meet him—to see what you saw. You weren’t just dating someone… you were in love with someone utterly unique. Quiet, mysterious, incredibly powerful, and yet… gentle with you in a way few got to witness.

But then, doubt slipped in like a cold draft.

Piccolo wasn’t a social person. You knew that. You respected that. He barely spoke during your classes unless prompted, and even then it was usually concise, pointed advice that made your students straighten up like soldiers under a general’s command. He tolerated public settings. Barely. And even then, only because he wanted to support you.

What if he didn’t want to come? What if he thought this was too much?

You let out a soft groan, burying your face in your hands for a second before slapping your cheeks lightly and straightening up. “Alright. No more overthinking. Just ask him. What’s the worst that could happen? He says no? I can live with that.”

Even if his brand of ‘no’ was usually a vague, broody grunt followed by meditative silence.

Fueled by that little ember of determination, you padded barefoot down the stairs, the wood creaking slightly under your feet. You caught the faint sound of the wind rustling through the trees outside, mingling with the faint ticking of the clock in the hallway. As you turned the corner and entered the living room, your voice called out casually:

“Hey, Piccolo, I was wondering if—”

You froze.

There he was, sitting cross-legged in the center of the room. Turban and cape nowhere in sight. Eyes closed in a serene expression. And… shirtless.

Your words caught in your throat like a fishhook. Your eyes, despite your best intentions, shamelessly took in the details—the broad expanse of his chest, the sharp cut of his abdominal muscles, the intricate, dark-lined streaks running across his arms and lower abdomen. The pink, fleshy patches on his arms glowed subtly under the soft afternoon light bleeding through the windows, framed by those bold red edges that almost dared your eyes to keep tracing along them.

Goddamn, you thought, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might punch a hole in your ribcage. 

The thought of just running your hands down his muscles caused your heart to flutter. You swallowed thickly, blinking rapidly—and that’s when you felt it.

A warm trickle.

You slapped a hand to your face. Oh no.

Yep. Nosebleed. Of course your body would betray you at a time like this.

“Uhh, w-why are you shirtless??” you managed, your voice breaking slightly like you were a teenager catching her crush in the locker room.

Piccolo’s eyes opened slowly, calm and unbothered, and they immediately locked onto yours. There was the tiniest flicker of amusement there, almost hidden—like a single ripple on an otherwise still lake.

“You told me to give it to you,” he said plainly. “You noticed the stain and insisted on washing it.”

Oh. Right.

You did say that. He’d tried to argue, something about materializing a clean one instantly, but you’d been adamant. You said it was about principle, that he should let you take care of him in small ways like that.

And he’d let you. No further protest. Just that quiet, reluctant acceptance he always offered when he couldn’t argue with your heart.

Still, standing there with a tissue now clamped to your nose and your face hotter than the sun, all you could do was laugh awkwardly.

“Right. I, uh… forgot.”

Piccolo raised a brow slightly, still watching you with quiet curiosity. “You okay?”

“Yep. Totally. Fine. Just… overheating. From the heater.” You gestured vaguely to nothing. “Which is off. But still.”

He made a soft, skeptical sound in the back of his throat, but said nothing. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer—serious, yet gentle.

You rubbed at the back of your neck awkwardly, but the fluttering in your chest hadn’t gone away.

“Anyway, uh… I was actually coming down to ask if you wanted to go somewhere. With me. On Saturday night.”

Piccolo blinked, his head tilting slightly, his antenna's swaying gently by the movement. “Where?”

You smiled, stepping a little closer, the butterflies multiplying. “It’s just a casual get-together. My friends and I are meeting at this bar we always go to. I thought… maybe you'd like to come? Meet them? I mean—you don't have to. I know crowds aren't really your thing, but—”

He didn’t answer right away. Just watched you. Thoughtful. Quiet.

And then, he spoke.

“…I’ll think about it.”

Which, in Piccolo-speak, was about as close to a “maybe” as you were going to get.

You beamed. “Okay. That’s fair.”

He nodded once, his expression unreadable—but there was a softness behind his eyes that didn’t go unnoticed.

And just like that, the thought of Saturday night got a whole lot more exciting.

Even if you’d need to keep a fresh tissue box nearby. Just in case.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘✧──────✧₊∘✧──────✧₊∘✧──────✧₊∘

It was finally Saturday.

The sky outside your window had just begun to soften into gold, the sun dipping low on the horizon like it, too, was getting dressed for a night out. The faint hum of life was beginning to pick up in the surrounding forest area of your home—crickets began to sing, the chirping of foxes emanated somewhere deep within the treeline. But all of that faded into background noise as you glanced at the clock:

6:01 PM.

Only one hour until you were meeting your friends at the Way Out Bar. You couldn’t sit still.

You were practically buzzing as you made the final touches to your look in the mirror mounted on the living room wall. The beige floral jumpsuit hugged your figure just right—cute but comfy—and your hair, twisted into a half-up braid, framed your face in a way that made you feel genuinely beautiful. Confident. Alive.

But the real surprise of the evening wasn’t your outfit or even the gathering itself.

It was the seven-foot-five Namekian standing behind you—who, for the first time since you’d known him, was visibly anxious.

You caught a glimpse of him in the mirror, his posture stiff, arms at his sides, and a furrow etched deep between his brows as he focused on the conjured outfit slowly materializing over his usual gi. The transformation was fascinating to watch—energy rippling over his body as purple fabric gave way to crisp white.

You turned to face him fully.

Gone was the worn, battle-weathered gi. In its place: a neatly pressed white button-down shirt, a dark blue tie perfectly knotted at his neck, slim-fitting purple slacks, and polished dress shoes that looked almost too clean—like he’d never worn a pair in his life. He stood in the center of your living room, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves with all the grace of someone performing open-heart surgery.

Your lips curled into a smile, warm and amused. 

“Piccolo,” you said gently, stepping closer, “relax. You don’t have to dress up to look presentable. Your regular attire is fine. Well, okay, maybe leave the weighted turban and cape at home—unless you plan on knocking over coat racks everywhere we go.”

He paused, slowly glancing at you, eyes narrowed in thought. “I want to make a good impression,” he said, voice low, almost hesitant. “These are people important to you. I should look… appropriate.”

There it was—that unexpected vulnerability that made your heart squeeze every time you saw it peek through his normally unshakable exterior. You could see it in the way his antennae twitched faintly, the way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as though unsure whether to tuck or untuck it.

You softened. “Hey.” You moved to stand directly in front of him, tilting your head back to meet his eyes. “You look very appropriate, trust me. Although…”

You stepped closer, fingers lifting to the knot of his tie. “This?” You tugged it gently, sliding it loose from his collar and tossing it over your shoulder. “This is a little too formal. We’re going to a bar, not a business conference.”

He didn’t protest, just watched you with those intense dark eyes, unreadable except for the faintest hint of tension in his brow.

You reached for the top buttons of his shirt next, undoing two with a soft, confident smile. “There,” you murmured, “much better.” Your fingertips brushed his collarbone, and you felt the way he tensed slightly beneath your touch—subtle, but telling.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” you added, stepping back to admire the results. “Just roll your sleeves up to the elbows, and you’re golden.”

Piccolo didn’t respond right away. He just stood there, staring at you.

Not with his usual blank stoicism.

There was something in his expression now… quiet awe. The kind of gaze someone gives when they realize, all at once, that they’re standing in the presence of someone they deeply cherish. Someone who saw through all the layers of who they were and loved them not in spite of it, but because of it.

It nearly knocked the breath out of you.

Wordlessly, he began to roll his sleeves up, his movements slower now, more deliberate. He wasn’t just adjusting his look anymore—he was adjusting to the idea of being seen by the people in your life. Letting them glimpse a side of him he rarely, if ever, revealed.

A side that belonged only to you.

“You really think this is okay?” he asked, a rare thread of uncertainty woven into his voice.

You stepped closer again, smoothing your hands over the front of his shirt with a small smile. “More than okay,” you said, looking up into his eyes. “You look great. And… I’m really happy you’re doing this.”

His gaze lingered on yours, and for a moment, he just breathed. Then, finally, he nodded.

“…Alright,” he said. “Let’s go meet your friends.”

You nodded eagerly, practically bouncing on your heels as you spun on your toes, the fabric of your jumpsuit swishing gently with the motion. You made your way toward the kitchen, grabbing your black quilted purse from the counter and slipping the strap over your shoulder in one smooth movement. Your hand followed next to the set of car keys sitting beside a stack of unopened mail.

With a gleam in your eye, you turned back toward Piccolo, holding the keys aloft like a prized treasure. “Come on!”

You made your way over to him, your fingers intertwining with his large hand, the coolness of his skin a comforting contrast to the heat building in your palm. Without a second thought, you tugged him toward the front door, and he followed wordlessly, allowing himself to be led like a tall, silent shadow behind you. The warmth of your hand in his said more than any words could.

Once outside on the porch, the soft creaking of the steps beneath your feet echoed in the calm of early evening. The sun had dipped lower, casting golden slants of light across the front yard. Crickets hummed with life across the grass. You let go of Piccolo’s hand just long enough to jog down the steps and disappear beneath the porch with Piccolo following close behind. Under the porch was a makeshift garage, small judging by the looks of it but not too cramped either. You approached something large and mysterious that lay beneath a gray tarp.

Piccolo watched you, arms crossed, one brow lifting in curiosity as he tilted his head.

You grabbed the tarp with both hands, bracing your feet against the gravel beneath you, and with a grunt of effort, yanked it off in a dramatic flourish. The tarp fluttered down behind you in a heap, revealing the beauty beneath.

A red and black striped muscle car gleamed proudly in the late afternoon light—its polished surface glinting like it had just rolled off the showroom floor. Chrome accents caught the sunlight, and the tires looked freshly scrubbed. It looked powerful. Fast. Immaculate.

You practically glowed, a wide grin on your face as you pressed your palms against the smooth, warm surface of the hood, practically buzzing with excitement. “I haven’t driven this car in ages!”

Piccolo approached slowly, his sharp eyes studying the vehicle like it was a puzzle he hadn’t expected to see in your possession.

“This is yours?” he asked, blinking slowly as he raised a brow, clearly impressed but trying not to show it too much.

“Yep!” you said proudly, patting the hood. “Graduation gift from my adoptive mom. She surprised me with it right after the ceremony. Told me I deserved something bold.” You laughed softly at the memory. “I’ve kept it in pristine condition ever since—tuned it, cleaned it, waxed it. The works.”

A little nostalgic pride swelled in your chest as you turned back toward him, holding the keys between your fingers. “I’ll be driving us to Nicky Town tonight.”

Piccolo’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. “We could get there much faster if we just flew.”

You stopped mid-stride, your expression flattening as you stared at him. “Piccolo…”

He blinked at your unimpressed tone, a visible sweatdrop appearing at his temple ;as he tilted his head slightly in confusion. “What?”

You sighed, crossing your arms with a dramatic huff that was more amused than annoyed. “I love you,” you said, stepping toward him, “but you seriously know how to kill a vibe sometimes.”

That made him visibly flinch. His posture straightened, and his mouth opened as if to reply, but you lifted a hand before he could get a word out.

“Look, I get it. Flying is faster. More efficient. But I’m not a pro at it like you are, remember? I’ve only just gotten used to hovering without looking like I’m dangling from an invisible string.”

Piccolo exhaled softly through his nose, his eyes lowering a fraction as guilt quietly slipped into his features.

“And yes,” you added, your voice softening as you stepped closer, “I know you’ve carried me before—many times, actually. And I never minded it. In fact, I always felt safe when you did.” You offered a small, fond smile, your fingers brushing lightly against his forearm.

“But just for tonight… I wanna do something normal and least conspicuous. Something a little fun. Take the long way. Play some music. Roll the windows down. And most importantly, to have a good time.”

You looked up at him, eyes hopeful. “Please? Just tonight? If you hate it, we’ll fly next time.”

Piccolo stared at you for a long moment, his features unreadable—but his eyes softened, just a touch. Enough for you to know he heard you. Really heard you.

Then, finally, a small sigh escaped him. “Alright,” he said, his voice quiet but sure. “We’ll drive.”

A grin broke across your face as you turned back toward the car, unlocking it with a click and opening the driver’s side door with a triumphant swing.

“You’re gonna love it,” you called out over your shoulder as you slid into the seat. “This baby purrs.”

Piccolo looked at the car again, then at you, and for the briefest moment—before rounding the car to the passenger side—he allowed himself the faintest of smiles.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘✧──────✧₊∘✧──────✧₊∘✧──────✧₊∘

The city lights blurred past like streaks of stardust, reflections dancing across the windshield in vibrant golds and electric blues. The streets of Nicky Town were alive, but unusually tame tonight—no gridlock, no honking horns—just the soft hum of your muscle car purring under your fingertips as you guided it gracefully through the open roads.

The wind rushed in from the rolled-down windows, warm and fragrant with the scent of nearby food stalls. It danced through your hair, pushing loose strands around your face as you exhaled a small, contented sigh. The radio was playing something soft—low bass, gentle synths, a mellow tune that hummed beneath your skin.

You slowed to a gentle stop at a red light, a slow deep rumble of the engine idling while you waited. Fingers tapping in rhythm on the gear stick, a faint smile playing on your lips as your eyes wandered briefly to Piccolo in the passenger seat.

He looked peaceful, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes closed, the sharp lines of his jaw relaxed under the soft interior lights. There was a quiet serenity to him when he wasn’t sparring with you. His presence alone, even in silence, had a grounding effect on you.

That is, until a piercing, obnoxious whistle shattered the moment like glass hitting concrete.

“Hey sweetheart!”

Your smile instantly dropped. The shift in your mood was swift—brows flattening, your shoulders stiffening as your gaze flicked sharply to the left.

There, beside your door, sat a young man on a loud motorcycle, revving his engine like he was the star of some cheap action movie. His grin was wide, smug, and completely lacking in shame. His eyes—hidden behind tinted glasses—raked over you with a possessiveness that made your skin crawl.

Your face remained stone cold. “Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?”

He chuckled, hand on the throttle. “Aww, c’mon. Don’t be like that. Hop on, yeah? We’ll have ourselves a real good time.”

The nerve. Your brow twitched, irritation climbing your spine like a venomous insect. “No thanks.”

But he didn’t get the message.

Instead, he leaned in further—too close. His arm braced against the car’s frame, body language dripping with arrogance. “Don’t be like that, sweetheart. Someone like you—fine as hell—deserves someone who can really show her a good—”

Wham!

The crack of your fist meeting his face rang louder than the engine ever could. His head snapped back with a choked yelp, his motorcycle wobbling as he gripped his face in agony, blood already spilling between his fingers.

You sat there, your fist still warm from the contact, settling your hand calmly back on the steering wheel like nothing had happened.

“Would you look at that?” you said coolly, voice lined with venom and amusement. “Crying over a punch… from a girl.”

“You broke my nose!” he wailed, nasally and pathetic.

You gave him a scathing look. “You invaded my space. And when a woman says no, she means no. It's not an invitation to harass or pressure her. So why don’t you do us both a favor—” the light turned green. “—and go fuck yourself.”

Without another glance, your foot pressed against the gas and the car surged forward, tires gripping the road like claws. The roar of the engine was satisfying, almost therapeutic. You gripped the gear stick tightly, fingers stiff and white-knuckled from the adrenaline and anger still coursing through you.

“(Y/n),” Piccolo’s tone was low, measured, but laced with concern. “Are you alright?”

You blinked, the road ahead coming back into focus. His voice had always had this strange effect on you—like it could cut through even the worst storm in your chest. You sighed, jaw still tense. “Yeah… I just got pissed off. The audacity of that guy…”

Piccolo was quiet for a moment, arms unfolding slowly as he straightened in his seat. “Does this… happen often?”

You hesitated, biting your bottom lip as your heart gave a tight squeeze.

“…Not like before,” you admitted, your voice a little softer, a little bitter.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him sit up straighter, more alert—his energy subtly shifting from stillness to sharp attention.

“(Y/n),” he said more firmly, eyes narrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

The seriousness in his tone made your hands tremble ever so slightly on the wheel. The streetlights overhead blurred as you entered the parking garage, darkness creeping over the car as you ascended to the upper levels. The interior lighting cast a glow on your face—revealing the way your jaw clenched, the tension in your brow.

You didn’t look at him.

“…Remember when I told you I was homeless? Before the dojo, before I built my home?” you murmured, voice tight. “Back then, stuff like that happened a lot. More than I like to admit.”

The tires thudded softly as you turned up to the third level.

“I was fourteen,” you continued, eyes locked on the parking space ahead. “Couldn’t fight, couldn’t run very fast, and sure as hell couldn’t afford to scream for help. Men—grown men—thought I was easy prey. I learned pretty quick that being polite only made them worse.”

The car eased into the parking space, and you shifted it into park with a small click. The engine purred for a moment longer before going quiet, leaving only the hum of city life in the distance and the soft hiss of your breath.

You rolled up the windows. Just in case.

Then, silence.

Piccolo didn’t speak right away. You felt his gaze on you like a weight pressing against your side, his body completely still. When he did speak, his voice was low. Careful.

“…Did they ever—” He stopped himself. The question caught in his throat, too heavy, too dark to finish. His hands clenched tightly, and a shudder moved through him—subtle but unmistakable.

You shook your head immediately.

“No. They never did.” You looked over at him then, your voice firmer than before. “I never let them.”

He exhaled slowly, some of the tension draining from his posture, but not all of it. His eyes were still dark with something dangerous—something protective.

“You should’ve never had to go through that,” he said. “Not then. Not now.”

You offered him a small, sad smile. “Yeah. But I survived.”

Piccolo’s gaze lingered on you, and then, in a surprisingly gentle motion, he reached out. His hand rested over yours where it gripped the gear stick—large, calloused, and warm. The contact made your breath hitch. His thumb brushed against your knuckles once, twice—slow, grounding.

“You’re not alone anymore,” he said. “You never will be again.”

And in the quiet warmth of the car, tucked away from the world in that shadowed parking garage, those words sank deep into your soul—firm and comforting like roots in the earth.

Eventually, you and Piccolo stepped out of the car and into the moonlight, the glow of the moon illuminating the city. The air was thick with the scents of street food, car exhaust, and pansies as the two of you ascended the spiral ramp of the multi-level parking garage. The sounds of city life greeted you—distant laughter, muffled music, and the steady hum of traffic below. With each step, your anticipation mounted like a heartbeat in your throat.

The two of you merged onto the bustling sidewalk, weaving past people walking in pairs, in groups, or alone with their heads down in their phones. You guided Piccolo with quiet ease, your hand gently looping through the crook of his forearm. The warmth of his exposed forearm brushed against your skin every time he adjusted his stride to match yours—something he did often now, unconsciously. His presence beside you felt solid, grounding, like you could lean your entire weight on him and he wouldn’t budge an inch.

You rounded the corner of a narrow brick antique store that smelled faintly of dust and sandalwood—and there it was.

The sign: The Way Out Bar. Elegant cursive letters spelled out the name in soft neon, glowing in the encroaching twilight. Something about seeing it made your heart flutter. It was just up ahead. Your friends were just beyond that door.

Your grip around Piccolo’s forearm tightened as you beamed, pulling him a little closer. You didn’t notice the way he glanced down at you then, his expression unreadable to anyone but you. There was fondness in his gaze, laced with quiet amusement, and a hint of nerves buried beneath his usual stoicism.

The inside of the bar was a soft contrast to the world outside. Warm, amber-hued lights hung in scattered clusters like little fireflies, casting gentle shadows that danced along the walls. A small jazz trio played on a raised stage to the left, their mellow notes wrapping the room in a cocoon of easy rhythm. The bar to the right buzzed with activity—glasses clinking, bartenders sliding drinks down the polished mahogany counter. The air was a blend of expensive perfume, whiskey, and warm food.

You scanned the crowd—faces blurred together until you spotted them.

Tucked in a corner booth, exactly where you hoped they’d be, sat your small, beloved chaos of a friend group. Jenny was deep in animated conversation with Henry and Elias, her faux locs bobbing every time she gestured dramatically. Elias, ever the picture of chill, leaned back with his usual amused smirk, while Henry animatedly waved a chicken wing mid-debate. Luka sat sandwiched between them, quietly listening, his arms folded and eyes sharp as ever. And then there was Amelia—red-haired, radiant Amelia—nursing the last sip of a martini, her attention elsewhere as her eyes scanned the room.

You gave Piccolo a quick look and an upward tilt of your chin—a silent follow me—before slipping through the small maze of tables and people. He followed closely, careful not to bump into anyone despite his size. His presence alone was enough to part the crowd a little, though he didn’t seem to notice the glances, the whispered curiosity.

Amelia spotted you first. Her face lit up like fireworks.

“(Y/n)!! Over here!!” she called out, waving her arm high above her head.

The rest of the table turned as you approached, just in time for Amelia to practically launch herself out of her seat. She flung her arms around you with an excited squeal, wrapping you in a warm, familiar hug.

“Oh my god, it’s so good to see you! We’ve all missed you so much.” Her voice trembled slightly, her arms squeezing tight. Her eyes shimmered when she pulled back, but she didn’t let a single tear fall. 

You cupped her arms, giving a reassuring squeeze. “It’s good to see you too, Amelia. You have no idea.”

“Hey! What about us, huh?!” Henry hollered from the table, arms outstretched in dramatic protest. “The guys deserve a little love too, ya know?”

You rolled your eyes with a smirk. “Didn’t you tell me that hugging was for sissies?”

Henry tilted his head, faux locs bouncing as he scoffed. “Yeah, well—that was before you got fuckin’ shot, okay?”

With a laugh, you walked over and looped an arm around his neck, yanking him into a headlock before giving him a good, affectionate noogie.

“FUCKIN’—WHY?!”

He flailed helplessly, drawing laughter from the rest of the group as you released him, his hands flying up to shield his poor scalp.

“Because I can, you ass,” you said sweetly, folding your arms and towering over him in mock authority.

You turned to Elias and Luka next, offering them both a warm smile.

“It’s good to see you’re doing well, (Y/n),” Luka said, offering a rare but sincere smile.

“Glad you could join us,” Elias chimed in, brushing a strand of his maroon hair behind his ear. “Recovery treating you alright?”

“Definitely,” you replied with a nod. “I’m finally teaching again. The doctors really did their magic.”

You left out the real miracle—the moment Dende’s hand hovered over your chest, and that tiny, jagged piece of death was pulled from your heart. Some things you weren’t ready to explain. 

“Hey, (Y/n)?” Jenny’s voice cut in, soft but direct.

You turned to her, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

She leaned in slightly, one elbow resting on the table, her other hand casually pointing to the side with a thumb. “So… who’s the big guy?”

Your gaze followed her gesture to Piccolo—who stood a few feet away from the booth, arms folded tightly, eyes lowered and expression carefully unreadable. He kept a respectable distance, but his alertness was palpable. Like a sentinel standing guard.

Despite his carefully conjured outfit—purple slacks, a tailored button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his green complexion as well as the pink patches in his arm—he stood out. Tall. Alien. Still. You could feel the weight of glances from nearby tables, the murmurs and curious stares prickling along your skin like static.

Hot anger bloomed in your chest. You wanted to shout Stop staring! You wanted to defend him, shield him—but you knew better. This wasn’t the time. Not tonight.

You inhaled, slow and steady. Let it go.

“Oh! Right!” You gave a small, sheepish laugh. “I totally forgot—”

You stepped over to him, placing your hand gently against his abdomen. He glanced down at your touch, then back at your friends, wordlessly awaiting your lead.

“Everyone, this is Piccolo.” You turned toward your friends again, smiling brightly. “Piccolo, these are my friends. This is Amelia—”

Amelia waved enthusiastically, her red hair swishing. “Hi! You’re taller than I imagined, and I imagined tall.”

“This is Jenny,” you continued.

Jenny nodded slowly, her gaze sharpening, evaluating him from head to toe. “Huh. Okay.”

“And these three are Henry, Luka, and Elias.”

Henry gave a casual wave. “Yo.” But his eyes were sharp, the wheels already turning behind them.

Luka didn’t say a word—just stared, jaw tense, brow furrowed. He didn’t like mysteries he couldn’t solve.

Elias, ever gracious, smiled brightly. “It’s always nice to welcome someone new.”

Then Jenny, voice cautious, turned her full attention back to you. “Sooo… is he, like, a friend? Or, what—an acquaintance of your master’s?”

You smiled, your hand tightening slightly on Piccolo’s shirt, feeling the subtle warmth beneath it. A blush crept up your cheeks, blooming fast.

“Actually,” you said softly, tilting your head up to meet Piccolo’s gaze.

His eyes met yours, gentle and unguarded. That alone made your friends fall silent. They weren’t used to seeing someone look at you like that.

“Piccolo isn’t a friend or an acquaintance of my master,” you said. “He’s… my boyfriend.”

The table went dead silent.

Jenny’s mouth fell open. Amelia’s hand flew up to cover her gasp. Henry’s drink paused halfway to his mouth. Elias blinked in disbelief, and Luka just… stared.

And then, without hesitation, Piccolo’s arms uncrossed and he reached out—resting a large, warm hand against your back, fingers pressing gently between your shoulder blades. Protective. Affectionate.

Amelia squealed, both hands covering over her mouth to muffle the sound.

Jenny stuttered, eyes wide, mouth working like her brain couldn’t form actual words.

“You… you…” she gasped, clutching the edge of the table with white-knuckled hands.

You looked up at Piccolo with a warning smile. “Brace yourself. Jenny’s gonna scream—”

“WHAAT?!” Jenny exploded, shooting up from her seat and slamming both hands onto the table. “YOU’VE BEEN HIDING THIS FROM ME THIS ENTIRE TIME?!”

You giggled, leaning subtly into Piccolo as his hand pulled you a little closer. “Hehehe… yeah. You might wanna sit down, Jenny. I’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

You glanced at Amelia and gave her a playful nudge. “Mind scooting over? We’ve got a story to tell.”

Amelia quickly scooted over with a grin so wide it looked like it might split her face in two. She practically bounced in her seat, dragging you down beside her with eager hands while patting the empty spot next to you. “C'mon, big guy! No standing on the sidelines now.”

Piccolo hesitated, his eyes flicking from you to the seat, then to the curious faces watching him. For a heartbeat, he looked like he might decline—but then your fingers found his, a gentle squeeze of silent encouragement. With a sigh barely audible over the jazz music, he obliged, sitting down beside you. The booth creaked slightly beneath his weight, drawing a few chuckles from Henry and Elias.

“Damn,” Henry muttered with a smirk. “What’s he benching, like, a small building?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Please don’t challenge him, Henry. He might actually show you.”

Piccolo shot you a side glance. “Wouldn’t be much of a challenge.”

Henry snorted, eyes lighting up at the dry humor. “Okay, I like him.”

Jenny, still trying to mentally reboot, leaned forward and jabbed her finger in your direction. “Start from the beginning. I want dates, times, how this happened. This is—this is massive! I mean, seriously?! How long have you been keeping him from us?!”

You laughed, running a hand through your hair being mindful not to disturb the half-up braid. “Okay, okay, I’ll explain. Just… don’t freak out.”

“I’m already freaking out!” she half-shouted, arms thrown up. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to set you up with boring-ass grad students?”

“And do you see why that never worked?” you teased.

Jenny groaned into her hands while Amelia leaned in, eyes wide with wonder. “So… how did you two meet? Like, officially?”

You glanced at Piccolo again, silently asking if he was okay with you telling the story. He gave a small nod, his posture relaxing ever so slightly. His hand, which was resting on his lap, subtly shifted until his fingers brushed against yours under the table.

“Well…” you began, launching into the condensed version of everything—your training, how you first met him in the forest, how he became your security guard for your school, the injuries, the long hours of recovery, and how he’d been there. How he’d stayed. 

In the midst of your storytelling, a waitress quietly approached the table, setting down a glass of water in front of both you and Piccolo without a word, then slipped away just as silently. 

“Hold the fuck up.”

Jenny’s voice sliced through the lingering background chatter like a whipcrack. She froze mid-reach for her drink, arms folding with dramatic flair as she leaned forward over the table—nearly knocking her glass of wine clean off the edge. Amelia, seated just beside her, casually reached out and steadied it without looking.

“You’re telling me,” she continued, brows shooting into her hairline, “that you’ve known Piccolo—this giant green intergalactic muscle mountain—for three years?”

You nodded slowly, already bracing yourself. You even pre-wrinkled your nose in anticipation.

Jenny stared. Blinked. Then exploded.

“THREE. FUCKING. YEARS.”

She threw her hands into her faux locs with a dramatic groan, dragging them down her face like she was physically in pain. “I’ve been to your house! I’ve seen your couch! I’ve watched Netflix in your bathrobe while drunk off Moscato! How the hell did I never see this seven-foot tower of stoic green daddy energy lurking around?!”

You winced, a sheepish laugh tumbling out as you rubbed the back of your neck. A cartoonish little sweatdrop might as well have formed on your cheek.

“To be fair…” you started, shooting a glance at Piccolo—who sat still as a statue, but whose eyebrow had very slightly twitched at the phrase "daddy energy"—“Piccolo isn’t exactly the type to, uh, crash dinner parties or pop in for brunch.”

Jenny squinted at him suspiciously. “So what—you just kept him in your garden like some kind of secret boyfriend bonsai?”

“I’m not a plant,” Piccolo muttered dryly.

You stifled a snort, then turned your attention back to Jenny. “He’s… a recluse. He likes peace and quiet. Doesn’t really do the whole socializing thing unless he has to. And I respected that. Always did.”

Your voice softened as you looked up at Piccolo for a moment, the tiniest smile tugging at your lips. “So yeah… imagine my surprise when he actually said yes to coming here tonight. Voluntarily.”

Jenny’s jaw hung open. “You mean to tell me this introverted Namekian hermit just chose to step out of his weird meditation void and waltz into a bar full of strangers—for you?”

You gave a sheepish shrug. “Apparently, yeah.”

Jenny was quiet for all of three seconds. Then she pointed an accusing finger at Piccolo, wide-eyed and borderline scandalized. “Sir. You simp. And I say that with the highest respect.”

Piccolo, without missing a beat, took a slow sip of his drink. “I have no idea what that means.”

“Oh my god, I love him,” Jenny said, slumping back in her chair with a stunned laugh. “I’m gonna need to write this full timeline on a PowerPoint. Maybe a live reenactment too.”

Henry raised his glass. “I got dibs on playing Piccolo.”

“You’re not tall enough,” Amelia chirped.

“I’ll stand on a fucking chair!”

You snorted, shaking your head with a grin, disbelief written all over your face. “What—No. No one is reenacting anyone, got it? That’s weird as hell and kinda creepy.” You jabbed your index finger at Jenny and Henry, who were already giggling like a pair of kids who’d just gotten away with something. The finger-point was part warning, part exasperated big-sibling energy, but they clearly didn’t take it seriously.

As your laughter died down, you suddenly felt it—Piccolo’s hand shifting ever so slightly where it rested beneath the table, until it came to settle gently on your thigh. His fingers curled softly, giving you a deliberate, grounding squeeze. It wasn’t possessive. It was quiet, affirming. A silent thank you. 

Your heart gave a small flutter, betraying how something so subtle could still shake you to your core.

But not everyone was laughing.

Luka had yet to speak. He sat leaned back in his chair, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His gaze, sharp and contemplative, flicked between you and Piccolo without saying a word. His brows were furrowed in that familiar way that meant his brain was working overtime, analyzing every little detail. You’d seen that expression before—when he was worried, when he was watching out for you.

He wasn’t being hostile. Luka didn’t do drama. But he was wary. And considering the kind of shit you all had been through over the years, it wasn’t surprising. Luka had learned to read people like open books, and he wasn’t the kind to trust someone just because you did.

Then finally, he spoke.

“Do you love her?”

The entire table fell silent. Drinks hovered halfway to mouths. Amelia’s eyebrows shot up. Jenny blinked. Henry stopped chewing. Elias couldn’t contain a smirk from forming.

Even the jazz music in the background felt like it dimmed a little.

Luka’s voice hadn’t been accusatory—just steady, calm, but dead serious. Like he was asking the question everyone else was too afraid to say out loud.

You turned your head slowly toward Piccolo, already feeling the change in his body language. The hand on your thigh had stilled, but there was a new tension there now—a readiness. You glanced up at him, and for a second, his expression was unreadable. A blank mask of calm. But then you saw it. The smallest crinkle at the corner of his eye. That subtle, almost imperceptible shift in his posture.

He wasn’t offended.

He was preparing to answer.

And you already knew what he was going to say. 

Piccolo stared at Luka, held his gaze without flinching, not out of defiance but from a place of grounded clarity—like someone who understood the weight behind the question and wasn’t afraid to carry it.

Then, slowly, his head turned. His hand, still resting on your thigh, shifted again—his thumb moving in a gentle arc, rubbing slow, deliberate circles into your jumpsuit.

And he looked at you.

Really looked at you.

The rest of the world faded. The buzz of the bar, the muffled clatter of glasses and laughter, even your friends sitting just inches away—all of it fell into a soft hush.

“I do,” he said finally, voice low, gravelly but steady. “More than I thought I ever could.”

His eyes never left yours.

“You have no idea how many walls I built just to keep people out,” he continued, his voice quieter now, like he was letting you in on something sacred. “Then you came along. And… you didn’t try to tear them down. You waited. You saw me. All of me. And you never once asked me to change.”

You felt something rise in your chest—warm, fragile, powerful. Like something blooming wide and wild in your ribs.

“I love her,” Piccolo said again, this time turning his attention briefly to Luka, though his hand never left your thigh. “Not because she saved me. Not because she put up with me. But because she made me want to be known. And that’s not something I ever thought I’d say in a room like this.”

Luka stared at him for a beat longer. The tension in his jaw softened just slightly, his arms loosening from the tight fold across his chest. No words. Just a small, thoughtful nod—the kind that said: That’s enough.

You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until you let it out.

Then Jenny broke the silence with a dramatic sniff. “Oh my god, I need a fuckin’ tissue. Who let this be a rom-com all of a sudden?!” She fumbled into her bag for a napkin while Henry, red in the face, reached to his right to swat her arm.

“Shut the hell up, Jen. I almost got misty-eyed and now you ruined it.”

Elias raised his glass. “To love making unexpected house calls.”

Amelia, already mid-sip, let out a delighted little squeal. “I knew it. You two are so disgustingly cute it should be illegal.”

You turned to Piccolo, heart thudding, cheeks warm. He raised an eyebrow slightly—his version of a soft smile—and leaned closer, his voice just for you.

“You okay?”

You nodded, smiling up at him, your hand moving to rest on top of his. “Better than okay.”

Amelia was already halfway through her second drink when she leaned across the table and grinned at you. “Okay, but seriously—how did you bag someone like him? Like, no offense, babe, but Piccolo looks like he could crush a tank with his pinky and then lecture it about self-discipline.”

Henry snorted into his drink. “For real. Man’s got the ‘I meditate in volcanoes’ energy.”

You were about to respond when Elias leaned back in his chair, one arm slung over the back like he was settling in for a show. That lazy, mischievous grin spread across his face like a goddamn wildfire.

“Oh, we’re going there?” he asked, raising a brow. “Because I have questions.”

You already felt your stomach drop. That was never a good sign.

“Elias,” you warned, narrowing your eyes. “Be normal.”

“Oh, I am. Totally normal.” He winked. “I just wanna know how anyone survives a make-out session with someone whose biceps are literally the size of my head. Like, what happens if he gets too into it? Do you end up in another zip code?”

You felt your entire face ignite like someone had lit a match behind your ears. “ELIAS.”

Jenny doubled over laughing. “Oh my god—ZIP CODE?!”

“I’m just saying!” Elias continued, shameless. “Man’s got that ‘destroyer of worlds, gentle lover’ vibe. I bet he’s the type who kisses you like he’s apologizing for every time he’s ever blown up a moon.”

Henry almost choked on his beer. “Brooo.”

Amelia wheezed, gripping Jenny’s arm as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Stop—STOP—my stomach can’t take this!”

Piccolo, bless his stoic soul, had been silently enduring the assault on his dignity. But you felt the moment his composure cracked—a twitch at the corner of his mouth, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh under the table. And when you risked a glance up at him…

He was blushing. His ears were blushing.

And you? Your face was molten lava.

“Elias,” you groaned, burying your burning face in your hands. “You can’t just say shit like that in public.”

Elias grinned, unapologetic. “Oh, come on. You know I’m right. Look at him. That’s not a boyfriend. That’s a six-foot-seven war god who probably calls you ‘beloved’ in the middle of a sparring match.”

You heard a low, amused rumble from beside you.

And when you turned your head, Piccolo—still blushing—leaned just slightly toward Elias with a dry, unamused stare.

“…You think I don’t know how to aim an energy blast?”

Elias paused.

Laughed nervously.

“I—uh—respectfully withdraw the question.”

Piccolo raised an eyebrow. “Smart.”

The whole table lost it.

You were still hiding your face in your hands, shoulders shaking from the kind of laughter that left your whole body buzzing. You peeked up at Piccolo, who looked straight ahead—composed again.

Jenny wiped tears from her eyes. “Jesus Christ, Elias. I swear, you live to traumatize people.”

“I live to educate people,” Elias shot back, raising his glass. “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah? Well next time, educate yourself on when to shut the hell up,” Henry deadpanned, reaching over to flick Elias in the forehead.

Piccolo leaned in slightly, just enough that only you could hear him. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or… concerned.”

You snorted, grinning like an idiot. “A little of both.”

After the chaos of Elias’s “zip code” comment started to die down—barely—you were still clinging to what little dignity you had left. Piccolo hadn’t moved his hand from your thigh, but you could feel the tension in his fingers, like he was bracing for whatever hell came next.

And he was right.

“So,” Jenny began, her voice laced with mischief as she leaned in, her elbows resting on the table and her chin perched atop steepled fingers. Her eyes sparkled like a gremlin with a matchbook. “Now that we’re done with introductions and listening to some good storytelling, there’s only one thing left to do.”

Piccolo blinked slowly. “…What.”

His voice was low, cautious—like a man who had just heard the first note of an incoming disaster siren.

Henry didn’t say a word, but the wicked curve of his grin spoke volumes as he sipped his drink and leaned back in his chair, content to let Jenny wreak whatever chaos she was planning.

“A good ol’ drinking game, of course!” Jenny announced, waving her hand dramatically like she was hosting a variety show. She flagged down a passing waitress without missing a beat. “Vodka. The big bottle, and seven shot glasses.”

You blinked. “Jenny—”

”Seven,” she repeated firmly, holding up her fingers like she was blessing the waitress with divine instruction.

The server didn’t even blink—just nodded and disappeared, probably used to this kind of behavior from your table by now.

You leaned toward Jenny, having to invade Amelia’s space but the red-head didn’t mind, your voice hushed but sharp. “Are you trying to get us all alcohol poisoning?”

Jenny shrugged, already buzzing with excitement. “Oh, please, you and your man have been drinking water this entire time. It’s time to spice things up a little. If we die, we die drunk and full of secrets.”

Before you could argue further, the waitress returned—like the harbinger of doom—with an ominously large bottle of vodka and seven perfectly clinking shot glasses balanced on a tray. She set them down with the efficiency of someone who wanted np part of what was about to transpire.

Jenny clapped once. “Excellent. The blood sacrifice has been made.”

You shifted in your seat, a pit forming in your stomach as you eyed the bottle. It glinted under the soft bar light like it knew it was about to ruin someone’s night. And probably someone’s life if they weren’t careful.

Jenny began filling the glasses like she was anointing each one with a cursed blessing. Then the smell of alcohol wafted up, sharp and unforgiving.

You gave her a deadpan look. “…I’m hesitant to even ask, but I’m asking anyway. What kind of drinking game are we playing?”

Jenny beamed. That shit-eating, chaos-fueled grin that could only mean trouble.

“Never Have I Ever, duh. Classic. Timeless. A sure fire way to emotionally scar each other with no survivors.”

Your soul left your body. “Fuck.”

Beside you, Piccolo raised an eyebrow, glancing down at you. His gaze softened with concern as he caught the tension rolling through your body. His hand hidden under the table had squeezed gently on your thigh. A silent question, a wordless tether: You okay?

You turned your head, meeting his gaze. The worry in your eyes must’ve been obvious because he tilted his head slightly, his antennae moving gently, his voice low enough only for you to hear.

“Is the game that terrible?”

There was something oddly innocent in the way he asked it. Curious. As if he didn’t fully understand what he was walking into but trusted you to guide him.

Before you could answer, Jenny managed to overhear what Piccolo said, cut in, far too delighted to explain.

“Oh, it’s amazing,” she said, spinning one of the shot glasses like a villain in a Bond movie. “Here’s how it works: someone says something they’ve never done. If you have done it, you take a shot. If not, you don’t drink. Simple right? But the real fun happens when the truth bombs start flying. Embarrassing stories. Secrets. Confessions. Shame. Regret. You name it.”

She paused dramatically, raising her full glass toward the center of the table. “It’s a beautifully messy human experience.” 

Piccolo listened intently, nodding slowly, though his brow began to furrow.

And when Jenny delivered the part about “revealing embarrassing secrets,” you watched a rare sight unfold—Piccolo’s eyes widened. Just a little. Barely enough to notice if you didn’t know him. But you did.

He immediately tried to neutralize his expression, smoothing it back into unreadable calm.

Only to fail.

Miserably.

You stifled a laugh, squeezing his hand beneath the table.

He leaned close and whispered, barely audible. “This sounds… dangerous.”

”Oh, it is,” you replied with a dry grin. “But let’s just hope we don’t have to reveal anything too personal.”

Jenny raised her glass. “Let the games begin!”

Elias, of course, immediately belted out the first prompt with a wicked grin: “Never have I ever—kissed someone over six-foot-five and built like a Greek statue.”

You blinked once, then tilted your head with the most innocent smile you could muster. “Joke’s on you, Elias. Me and Piccolo haven’t even kissed yet. Unless you count, like… a kiss on the cheek.”

A record-scratch silence hit the table.

“WAIT—” Jenny practically shot out of her seat, hands slamming onto the table as her eyes bounced between you and Piccolo like she was watching a scandalous tennis match. “You two haven’t even kissed yet?! Are you serious?!”

You and Piccolo shared a look, like a secret radio frequency crackling to life between you—one that said here it comes.

As you both turned to face your very stunned friends, a cartoonish sweatdrop might as well have formed on the side of both your heads. The entire group was staring at you like you’d confessed to never having used the internet.

“Uhh… no?” you said slowly, your tone calm but defensive, like you were explaining quantum physics to a table full of gossip gremlins. “We’ve only been together for, what, three months? That’s not nothing, but still early days.”

Piccolo glanced down at you, and when your eyes met his, there was nothing but quiet warmth. His expression softened, and a small, barely-there smile curved his lips—like the sun peeking out behind a distant mountain range. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. The look said it all: he was okay with this. With you. With the pace of things.

You leaned into it slightly, speaking more to your friends now. “We’re taking things slow. I don’t mind the limited PDA. Eventually, yeah, we’ll get there. But not until we’re both comfortable. No pressure. No rush.”

Jenny looked like her entire worldview had been challenged. “That’s so wholesome I actually feel like I’m having an allergic reaction.”

Henry coughed, trying not to laugh. Amelia blinked rapidly like she’d just walked into an indie romance film.

Luka, of course, simply nodded in quiet approval like a dad who just watched his kid turn down a bad idea.

You turned your attention back to Elias, who was still stuck on the previous prompt. “So, sorry to disappoint you, Elias,” you teased, raising your glass with a playful smirk. “But your little trap? Kinda backfired.”

Elias let out an exaggerated groan, dragging his hands down his face dramatically. “Goddammit. I knew it was a risk. I knew it. I was hoping to catch you in a juicy moment but instead, I got feelings.”

He reached for his shot glass, filled to the brim with what now looked like the bitter taste of defeat. “Well, fuck it. I’m drinking anyway. Out of pure disappointment and maybe just a little spite.”

He downed it in one go, eyes squeezed shut as the vodka burned its way down.

“Hellfire,” he wheezed, placing the now-empty glass on the table with a careful thud. “Why is vodka always such a betrayal?”

“You brought that on yourself,” Amelia said, sipping her now third martini glass.

And Jenny, despite herself, grinned too. “Alright, alright,” she said, waving her hand. “I’ll allow it. It’s disgustingly sweet. But I’ll allow it.” 

Before anyone could get too sentimental, Jenny clapped her hands together like an over-caffeinated game show host. “Alright, lovebirds, enough of the Nicholas Sparks shit—back to the chaos.”

She spun dramatically toward Henry, pointing a freshly-poured shot glass at him like she was accusing him of murder. “Henry, your turn. Impress us. Traumatize us. Give us something feral.”

Henry leaned back in his seat, one arm thrown over the back of the booth like he owned the place. “Aight, you want chaos?” He cracked his neck with a smug grin. “I am chaos.”

“Oh god,” Elias muttered, already reaching for his glass in defeat.

Henry rubbed his hands together, eyes gleaming with mischief. Then he leaned forward, grinning like the devil about to sign a soul contract.

“Never have I ever…” He paused for dramatic effect, eyes scanning the group. “…accidentally sexted my mom.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” You gasped, nearly knocking your shot glass over as you stared at him in abject horror.

Amelia choked on her spit and wheezed like a dying kettle.

“DUDE,” Jenny cried, laughing so hard she was crying, “THAT’S YOUR OWN PROMPT???”

Henry shrugged, shameless. “I never said it was a proud moment. But hey, I learned from it.”

Elias groaned. “That’s not learning. That’s becoming a cautionary tale.”

You shook your head in disbelief, a laugh escaping despite your horror. “Please tell me your mom doesn’t still have the screenshots.”

“She does,” Henry said flatly. “She brings it up every Thanksgiving. I get PTSD from cranberry sauce now.”

Piccolo, who had been trying to follow along with increasing confusion, leaned close to you and whispered with deep, solemn concern, “…What is sexting?”

You nearly spat your water back into the glass. Face now beet red, you turned slowly to him and whispered back, “I’ll explain later. Privately.”

He nodded gravely.

Jenny slammed her hand on the table. “Alright, fess up! Anyone gonna drink to that horrific confession?”

Elias raised his hand timidly. “I mean, not my mom, but my aunt once, so… same trauma, different packaging.”

“Oh my god, Elias.” Amelia buried her face in her hands.

Luka, miraculously, took a sip of his drink too, and the entire table turned to him in stunned silence.

“…Luka?” you asked, blinking.

He sighed, deadpan as ever. “It was a long time ago. Group chat mishap. I no longer text after 9PM.”

There was a beat of silence. Then you burst out laughing. Even Piccolo, confused as he was, gave a quiet chuckle—low and soft—but it was enough to make your heart flip.

Jenny’s jaw dropped. “Did… did he just laugh?!”

“I think he did,” you said, eyes wide.

Henry pointed accusingly. “Bro’s evolving. He’s learning the power of degeneracy.”

Piccolo shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “No, I’m just trying to understand how any of you survived this long without spontaneously combusting from sheer embarrassment.”

Jenny snorted. “That’s fair. But the game’s not over yet! Who’s next?”

Amelia reached for her shot glass with a cool, almost suspicious calm.

“I think it’s my turn now,” she said, tucking a loose curl of red hair behind her ear. Her maroon eyes sparkled with something dangerous. “And I’m about to separate the saints from the sinners.”

“Oh shit,” Elias muttered, clutching his chest like he was about to be read for filth.

Amelia smirked. She leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs like a movie villain about to deliver the final blow. “Never have I ever… taken a pole dancing class.”

The entire table went still.

Your brain short-circuited.

Your hand moved on instinct—like a damn traitor—and you took a sip from your drink before you could stop yourself.

Silence.

Then—

“EXCUSE ME?!” Jenny screamed, nearly flipping the table as her eyes bulged out of her skull.

Henry choked on his drink. “YO WHAT?!”

Elias dropped his shot glass. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard—WHY DIDN’T I KNOW THIS?!”

Luka just blinked slowly, eyebrows raised. “…Huh.”

All eyes were on you now as you froze mid-sip, your face glowing red like someone had switched on a heat lamp directly over your soul. You set your glass down very carefully, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

“I—okay, listen.” You cleared your throat, flustered beyond belief. “This was before I even became an instructor. I wasn’t trying to be sexy or whatever—it was just a class I took on a whim.”

Jenny looked personally betrayed. “A whim?! A whim?! Girl, pole dancing is a lifestyle. You gotta commit!”

Henry slammed his palms on the table. “I need to know: was it one of those classes with heels and music or like… a fitness thing?”

“I’m not answering that,” you said, covering your face with both hands. “Some of us are trying to hold on to our last thread of dignity.”

Elias leaned in, completely ignoring that request. “You still remember the moves though, right? Just for research purposes. Scientific curiosity.”

“ELIAS,” you hissed, kicking him lightly under the table.

While the chaos unfolded, Piccolo looked utterly baffled. He turned to you, blinking slowly.

“…What is pole dancing?”

Your soul left your body.

Jenny leaned across the table, grinning like a gremlin granted its one malicious wish. “Oh, Piccolo, my sweet green man. It’s like… interpretive dance but vertical. In heels. Sometimes upside-down. Often involves dollar bills.”

Piccolo’s face went completely still, but you swore you saw the tips of his ears—and, if you could believe it—his antennas turned a shade darker. His eyes widened slightly as he turned to you again.

“You did… that?”

You let out a strangled groan. “ONE class! And it was a fitness class, thank you very much!”

“But did you enjoy it?” Luka asked innocently, his tone deceptively neutral.

You threw a napkin at him. “That’s not the point!”

Piccolo cleared his throat, looking forward with the most rigid posture you’d seen all night. “I… I suppose it’s a form of strength training?”

You sighed. “Yes. Thank you.”

“…But also dancing. On a pole.” he added, still clearly trying to compute it.

“Piccolo,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands again. “Please stop.”

Amelia raised her shot glass with a grin, clinking it gently against yours. “No judgment here. I’m just glad someone finally drank to one of mine.”

Jenny cackled like a madwoman. “This night keeps getting better. I swear, if someone admits to joining a cult next, I’m gonna die happy.”

Henry raised a hand. “Do MLMs count?”

Everyone groaned.

Piccolo, still stunned, quietly muttered under his breath, “I’m going to need to meditate for a week after this night.”

You rubbed your fingers in a slow circular motion against your temple, staring down at the table, your face still red as you whispered. “I think… I might join you on that offer.”

Jenny was riding high on the drama of the pole-dancing revelation, spinning her empty shot glass between her fingers like a villain monologuing in the third act.

“All right,” she said, cracking her neck like she was about to commit a felony. “Time to stir the pot again.”

“Oh no,” Henry mumbled.

“Oh yes,” Jenny grinned. “Never have I ever… tried to kill my friend as a joke.”

“Jesus Christ, Jenny,” Amelia groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Elias let out a bark of laughter. “What kind of Looney Tunes-ass prompt is that?!”

Luka rolled his eyes but reached for his drink anyway, muttering something about “That one time with the bear trap.”

But then—Piccolo took a sip.

Everyone froze.

The table collectively snapped their heads toward him so fast it was a miracle no one sprained anything.

Piccolo sat still, jaw slightly clenched, his body tense in a way you hadn’t seen all night. The subtle squeeze of his hand on your thigh was the only giveaway that he wasn’t just casually sipping out of misunderstanding.

You didn’t react—you already knew. He’d told you those stories, the ones from long before he ever imagined himself sitting at a bar surrounded by chaos gremlins playing drinking games. You knew his past, and how much he’d changed.

But your friends? They were losing it.

Jenny blinked. “Wait. Wait. You—YOU?! You took a drink?!”

Henry leaned forward, eyes wide. “Holy shit, was that real? That wasn’t, like… metaphorical?”

Amelia’s eyebrows shot up, and even Elias had gone quiet for once.

Piccolo let out a slow exhale and looked down at the table, his shot glass spinning slightly in his hand.

“It… wasn’t a joke,” he said after a long moment, voice low. “And it wasn’t a game.”

Luka tilted his head. “But you did try to kill a friend?”

Piccolo nodded slowly. “A long time ago. Before I changed.”

Elias, ever the tactless menace, raised both hands. “Bro, that’s metal as fuck. Who was it? Are they okay? Did they… like, get better?”

You shot Elias a look. “Elias.”

Piccolo, to his credit, didn’t flinch. He just pressed his lips together, still avoiding everyone’s gaze. “Let’s just say… there was a time I wanted power more than anything else. And there was someone who stood in my way. He became a rival. An enemy. But… also a friend.”

The table went dead silent.

“And now?” Amelia asked, her voice quieter, more curious than judgmental.

Piccolo finally looked up. “Now, he’s one of the few people I trust.”

Jenny blinked a few times, slowly lowering her drink. “Well shit. That got real.”

Henry coughed into his fist. “Can we go back to pole dancing?”

Elias raised his shot glass like he was toasting to Piccolo’s character arc. “To redemption arcs and not murdering your friends!”

Piccolo snorted softly, the tension in his shoulders finally beginning to melt as he glanced sideways at you. “This game is ridiculous.”

You nudged him gently with your elbow, smiling. “Told you.”

“Still,” Jenny said, pouring another shot, “that was the wildest round yet. Top tier. Ten outta ten. Can’t wait to traumatize the next person.”

Piccolo gave you a side glance, then leaned in just close enough for you to hear him over the noise.

“…Are there more games like this?”

You smiled around the rim of your shot glass, the alcohol warming your throat as you took a slow sip. “Oh, sweetie,” you said, tone light and teasing, “we haven’t even gotten to Truth or Dare: Unhinged Edition yet.”

There was a twinkle in your eye, but you tilted your head, glancing toward your friends—Henry in particular, whose cheeks were beginning to turn bright red, eyes glassy with the unmistakable sheen of a man about to go past tipsy. Amelia was slouched over the table, hiccuping through a giggle, while Jenny was mumbling something about shot glass pyramids.

“I don’t think we’ll get the chance to play it tonight,” you murmured with a knowing grin, setting your glass down. “At this rate, we’ll all be wasted before the vodka’s halfway gone.”

You didn’t notice the way Piccolo’s posture stiffened slightly beside you, how his eyes widened—just a fraction. But the damage was done.

That single word—sweetie—lodged itself in his chest like a live wire. His expression didn’t change dramatically, but the softest, most unmistakable purple tint bloomed across his cheeks. His fingers twitched ever so slightly against your leg. A warmth he hadn’t anticipated spread low in his abdomen, an unfamiliar mix of affection and longing stirring in a quiet, dizzying swirl.

You still weren’t looking at him.

Which, somehow, made it worse.

He glanced down, lips pressed into a thin line, as though trying to smother the involuntary smile threatening to betray him. His gaze flicked back to you once more—so at ease, so effortlessly disarming—and that strange, fluttering heat pulsed again.

He would never admit it out loud, not yet, but that one little word had knocked the wind clean out of him.

━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━

(a/n)

We finally met (Y/n)'s friends!!

Ngl, this chapter was a lot of fun to write! I wanted to keep going BUT I knew I had to end it off with something disguistingly sweet. 😉

Also—

PICCOLO IN A BUTTONED UP SHIRT AND SLACKS.

OOf 🥵

I was drooling just imagining him walking around dressed up like that. So scandalous, haha. 🥹

Also, also,

Our MC drives a mustang. Hehee. c;

━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━

Part XX

You are currently reading Part XXI

Part XXII

━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━

It Turned into Love Masterlist

━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━━─┉┈★┈┉─━

Tag list:

@utakamo

@nerdy-girl-named-pumpkin

@dovah-bee

@thatsbunnysmind

[chaotic-fandom-writer]

DBZ: Gogeta Oneshot

Requested by @princeasimdiya12 Thank you for your request!

Warnings: SMUT! Heavy cursing, masturbation, gagging, ADULT THEMES, 18+

🚫MINORS DNI🚫❗❗18+❗ADULT CONTENT ❗❗

The still quietness of the jungle echoes around Gogeta as he travels through, searching for a good clearing.

He came all this way to get some training in, not wanting any distractions. He picks a spot, looking around for a minute before he begins.

"Hmph.. good as any." He mutters to himself. He moves swiftly as he trains, cutting down anything in his path. His muscles flex tightly as he moves, sweat beginning to form, glistening as it drips down his abs.

He pauses, removing his vest, the training raising his body temperature rapidly. He uses the clothing to wipe his forehead before discarding it nearby.

After a while, he collapses against a tree for a moment, breathing heavily. Training is always vigorous work, especially when you're putting your all into it, like Gogeta does.

He lays with his back propped against the tree, one arm raised above his head, resting across his forehead. His other hand sits in his lap, and he squeezes his thigh for a moment.

He looks down at his pants, noticing a sudden.. tightness, suddenly forming inside of them.

He glances around again, brow furrowed, before looking back down.

Well.. I've been working so hard today.. He thinks to himself as his hand travels a bit further down, reaching the bulge in his pants and giving it a squeeze. He gives a grunt of satisfaction at the brief touch.

I should indulge myself. He wiggles his fingers beneath his waistband, reaching underneath his clothing.

He wraps his hand tightly around his cock, earning another pleased grunt.

He looks around one more time before standing, removing his sash from his waist. For a moment, he's about to simply discard the sash, and then he has an idea.

He ties the sash tightly around his own mouth, the fabric pushing roughly in between his teeth. "Mmph..!" He sensation sends waves of pleasure rippling through his body.

He stands against the tree, pulling his pants down now. He springs free from the confined space, and begins to rub his cock, slowly at first. He rubs his thumb over the tip, pulling some sticky precum down as it leaks out, using it as lubrification.

With the new slickness from his precum, he picks up in speed now, pumping his cock with vigor.

"Phhuck!" He breaths out heavily beneath his gag, his cock twitching in his hands as he strokes it. He flicks his thumb on the underside of the tip, hitting a sensitive spot.

"Gud damph.." He squeezes his eyes shut, bringing his other hand down to cup his balls as he continues to jack himself off.

He throws his head back, pounding his dick mercilessly now, feeling the tension rising in his lower belly. He squeezes his balls tightly now, his teeth biting down on the sash in his mouth.

"Gud.. gunna ffphucking.. cum!"

He lets out a guttural growl as he reaches his climax, cum shooting out in front of him. He leans over involuntarily, the intensity of his orgasm shaking his whole body.

His cock sounds slicker than before, now, as he pumps it with his own semen, riding out the last of his high.

He collapses again against the tree, still standing, legs shaky. He slowly pulls the sash from his mouth, letting it fall to the ground as he takes deep breaths.

He pulls his pants up, getting ready to head back home. As he does, he feels a wet, sticky sensation slide against his thigh.

He looks down, pulling open his pants. He has cum splattered inside of the pant leg, now smeared against his thighs.

As he looks, he notices he also managed to cum on the outside of his pants as well, a large stain now displayed on the front.

"Well, fuck."

--

I hope you enjoyed! ❤️

[leftmostbongo]

Patience

Title: Patience

Fandom: Dragon Ball Z

Characters (some others mentioned but this is the pairing): Piccolo and reader

Notes: Reader is like besties with Gohan and met Piccolo at some tournament and yeah. Here we are. ENJOYSIESSS!

You couldn’t help but peek over at the beautiful namekian hovering just above the ground, 2 feet away from where you sat under a tree. You were trying to read a book but with such a big distraction nearby, you’d given that up a while ago. He looked so peaceful, yet still so serious and stoic. You were suddenly very thankful that he had decided to shed his weights which sat on the ground a couple feet away. His purple gi showed off his biceps and collarbones and you always loved the way his hands look. Powerful and rough from training. You also love the way they look on you, against your skin. 

“You’re not subtle, you know.” Piccolo stated flatly, cracking an eye open. 

“I wasn’t really trying to be.” You shrugged and placed your book down in the grass next to you. He let a low chuckle puff through his nostrils and shut his eye, “You promised to behave while I meditated.”

You knew he wasn’t actually annoyed. Piccolo loved your attention and he especially loved that you wanted him in that way. You’d shot down several other suitors, including Yamcha, but in the end, you had your heart set on the “big, green jerk” as he was described. He’d barely spoken to you until you came up to him after a training session and invited him over to your house for dinner. He’d given you the weirdest look but still accepted the little slip of paper that you tucked in his hand that had your address scribbled on it. You really didn’t expect him to show up but he came that night, and even though he didn’t eat, he still sat and watched while you ate and answered all the silly little questions you had for him. 

Also that night, you’d told him about your attractions and he didn’t even let you finish your admissions before he was leaning in and kissing you. Ever since then, you’d been fucking every chance you could and he didn’t care where you were. If you so much as breathed like you were horny, he was eager to drag you into an alley or into a restroom stall and fuck your brains out. Right now, you wanted it to be one of those times but you were starting to think he needed a little push to get riled up. 

So, as quietly as you could, you began to crawl on your hands and knees toward him. You felt like a kitten stalking a jaguar but honestly, that’s what made it so exciting. 

You were so close now, you could almost touch him but your hand came down on a particularly dry patch of grass. It crackled loudly under your palm and you winced. One of his ears twitched as he opened both of his eyes to gaze down at you, expressionless. 

You gave him your best innocent smile and sat up on your haunches, “Don’t you think you deserve a break? You’ve been at it for hours.” 

“If you’re bored, why don’t you practice your Ki like I taught you?” He recommended. A tiny smirk played at the corner of his mouth as he peered down at you. 

“Piccoloooo, I practiced all day yesterday.” You pouted and placed a tentative hand on his calf. 

“You can never practice too much, little one.” He replied, watching your every move as you started climbing into his lap. Finally, he moved his hands for you to get comfortable. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles together behind him. His hands gently grazed over your sides and down to squeeze your hips. 

“There are other things I’d like to practice right now.”  You ground yourself against his already hardening cock, “Oh yeah?” He rumbled, lowering the two of you onto the ground. Then, he leaned in closer, his breath fanning over the skin of your chest and raising goosebumps. Your eyes shifted down to stare at his lips as he spoke “Care to show me what you have in mind?”

“Gladly.” You replied as you surged forward to connect your lips with his. His tongue immediately slipped into your mouth while his hands pushed and pulled with your rocking hips. A desperate groan tore through you and you broke the kiss for a moment to quickly rid yourself of your top, exposing your breasts. 

“I’ll never get tired of that.” Piccolo chuckled, his eyes dropping down to your chest. He growled and slid his hand up to cup and squeeze your breast. Piccolo absolutely adores your body and lets you know just how much, very often. He loves your big, pillowy breasts and how his giant hands can barely fit around them. He goes feral for your thighs, how soft and thick they are? He loves how they feel when his arms are wrapped around them while his head is being crushed between them. But he definitely likes eating your pussy the most. Loves the taste, the smell, the feeling. All of it. He once made you cum seven times just from his mouth alone and then gave you another three with his cock after. Right now, you were hoping for a fraction of that same heat. And boy, was he firing up.

He pulled you closer to him with his free hand and settled it on your ass while the other one kept working at your breast. You moaned and pressed your lips back on his, desperate to taste him again. He rolled your nipple under this thumb as his mouth worked against yours, tongues curling and dancing together. Your pussy was practically crying with a desperate need to be filled and you could feel it soaking through your leggings already. 

Piccolo sucked your lip into his mouth as he pulled away and released it with a pop, then turned his attention to your neck. He kissed and licked and nipped at all of your sensitive spots making you writhe and keen above him. 

“Piccolo, please…” You begged him, your nails digging into his shoulders. 

“Mmmm, but you sound so good when you’re needy.” He rumbled against you, kissing a trail down your collarbone to your sternum. “Maybe…” he kissed over your left boob, “You need to be…” then, he kissed over the right then looked up at you with his mouth a breaths distance away from your hardened nipple, “A little more patient.” You couldn’t take it anymore, tears began to prick in the corners of your eyes and a pitiful whimper hummed in your throat.  

“Listen to you…” He whispered then, his lips connected with your nipple. You gasped as he began to suck gently while he circled your other nipple with his thumb. He was so good at driving you absolutely crazy sometimes. It was mostly because he could read you like a book. All of your body language, your moans and breathing patterns. He knew exactly where to kiss you, where to touch you and his cock fit perfectly inside you, filling you up to the brim. 

His sinful tongue was working faster now, flicking back and forth over your nipple while his lips sucked hard. Then, he was kissing and sucking his way over to your other breast to give it the same attention. Above him, you were a panting mess, unable to contain all the desperate sobs now pouring from your mouth.

Piccolo finished sucking a pretty purple mark into the skin close to your nipple and licked a stripe all the way up from your sternum to your chin with just the very tip of his tongue. Then, he pressed hot kisses over your jaw while his hands tugged at the waistband of your leggings.  

“Stand up.” He ordered softly in your ear. With his aide, you were able to stand on wobbly legs in front of him. 

“Take those off, little one.” He gestured at your leggings  as he pulled his shirt over his head. Quickly, you stepped out the leggings and made a move to get back in his lap but he stopped you with two large hands at your waist causing you to whine.

“These have to go too.” He eyed your pretty little black lace thong. Then, he hooked his fingers under the waistband and pulled them down slowly, his eyes locked on yours. As the soaked fabric pooled around your ankles, Piccolo leaned forward and began kissing your thighs, his hands moving to cradle them as he did so. You moaned and held onto his head with both hands, encouraging him closer to your neglected cunt. 

“Fuck, you smell good.” He growled and started biting little marks into the soft skin of your inner thighs. You squealed at every slight sting of his sharp incisors and trembled under his worshiping hands. Everything was driving you absolutely crazy. However, he didn’t leave you waiting for long. 

In one quick swoop, Piccolo was on his back and had pulled you down with him to hover just above his face on your knees. He already had his arms locked around your thighs and was looking up at you with mischievous eyes. Then, he stuck out his tongue and roughly tugged you down so that your pussy was pressed against it. 

“Ooohh fuuuck.” You breathed as he began to grind your hips down creating friction against your clit. He groaned, the sound coming out breathy yet strangled at the same time. Your hips attempted to buck and rut on their own but his strong hands squeezed the soft flesh of your thighs, making sure you wouldn’t try to move away from his talented tongue. He lapped at your folds now, occasionally plunging inside. 

“Shit, I… Immmm not gonna-“ You tried to warn him but he cut you off by his arms flexing and holding you down hard against his face while his tongue scraped back and forth over your clit. At this rate, you would be finished in the next thirty seconds and you could tell that he knew. He wrapped his lips around you and sucked, still grinding your hips against his face. 

“Oh fuck!! Piccolo!” You cried, “Don’t stop!” Your hips rolled and bucked on their own, chasing out your release. A few more flicks of his tongue later and you finally came apart. Your thighs began to shake and your eyes rolled back in your head as wave after wave of blinding pleasure surged through your nerve endings. 

Your body threatened to tip over and fall but he helped maneuver you onto your back with his head still in between your legs. He stared up at you as you tried to catch your breath, his mouth and chin glistening with your release. 

“You’re so fucking good at that.” You manage to say with your chest heaving. A deep chuckle vibrated in his chest, “It’s not very hard.” He replied, pressing gentle kisses to your bruised thighs. “Let me do it again?” He murmured,  dark eyes gazed back at you hopefully. Normally, you would love for him to eat you out for the rest of the afternoon but you wanted more right now. You wanted what was in between his legs.

“I want… I want you to fuck me, Piccolo. Please, give me your cock.” You reached out for him, hoping that he was pussydrunk enough to give you what you wanted. 

“Shit…” He breathed, hanging his head for a moment to kiss your clit one last time before lifting himself off of the ground to stand over you. “You better be fucking ready for me because I’m not holding back now that you’re begging for it.” He growled, pulling off the remaining garments he was wearing and his hard cock bounced up and down while he got back down on his knees. He huffed out a cocky chuckle as he watched you staring at it, almost drooling. 

Wasting no more time, Piccolo nudged your legs further open with a knee. You happily did as he wanted and waited for his next move. He smoothed his hands over the backs of your thighs then shoved downwards, effectively bending you in half. His cock was now pressed hot and heavy against your soaking wet folds, his hips pressed against your backside and his lips hovered just above yours. 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He asked, his bottom lip brushing against yours as he spoke. You whimpered as his hips began to rock back and forth, grinding his cock against your pussy. “This… feel this?” He pushed against you harder. 

“Fuck… yes, Piccolo.” You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck. He groaned and reached around to hook your leg around his hip so he could line himself up with you. As wet as you were, he was able to sink all the way inside of you with no resistance and when his hips were finally flush against yours again, you nearly cried. The feeling of him filling you up, touching all of the right spots, it had you seeing stars twinkling in your tears. 

“Remember what to do if it gets too much?” He pressed his lips against your jaw and dragged them down to your ear. “Tell me what you’re gonna do if it gets too much.” 

“Tap four times with two fingers” You held onto him tighter, your pussy clenching around him as he growled in your ear. 

“Good girl.” He smirked, then finally began thrusting in and out of you. A sigh of relief passed through your lips while you clung to him, hanging on for dear life. His pace was already quick and rough, bouncing you up and down on the grass. His lips were attached to your neck, sucking and nipping at your flesh, adding new hickies to the fading ones already present. 

“Fuck, Piccolo, you feel so good.” You sobbed out, one hand gripping the back of his head now and the other clawed at his back, drawing lines of purple blood in his green skin. A groan vibrated from his mouth to your neck, making you shiver. The namekian lifted himself to sit up straight, his cock still buried inside of you but his hands smoothed down your stomach, to your hips. His eyes were following his hands then they flicked back up to yours. 

“How many times can I make this pretty pussy cum around me, hmm?” He smirked, then began ramming his cock in and out of you, ruthlessly. You could feel him touching parts inside of you that no other man has ever reached while his hips pumped at a faster pace than before. You reached up and traced your fingers over the muscles of his stomach and up to his chest, admiring the way your hands looked so small exploring his body. He hummed his approval and lowered a hand to your clit, where he pressed gently with his thumb. A high pitched series of moans poured from your mouth as another orgasm started coiling around your guts. 

“Come on, my sweet little human.” He panted as he started moving his thumb in little circles while his hips snapped into you wildly. “Cum for me.” Your back arched off of the ground as the blinding pleasure ripped you apart once again. Suddenly, a large warm hand was clamped over your mouth and you realized you had been screaming his name at the top of your lungs. His hips had slowed a little to a gentle roll as he allowed you to ride out the last waves of your orgasm. 

“Careful. We might attract an audience that way.” He said with a breathy laugh. But you knew he was right. The only reason you guys weren’t more public about your relationship was because Gohan had requested it. You were his best friend after all and he didn’t like seeing his “other dad canoodle his best friend” as he had put it. This particular situation would definitely send Gohan into a coma. 

Piccolo moved his hand from your mouth after you’d relaxed and your legs stopped squeezing around his waist. However, he was still rock hard and throbbing inside of you. It was hard to think when you were so cockdumb but you wanted him to finish and you were determined to make that happen. So, you reached up to his face and pulled him down to kiss you, making him grunt and absentmindedly rock his hips once again. 

“Piccolo, I want you bend me over and fuck me against that tree.” You requested against his parted lips. 

“Damn it, girl, you’ll be the end of me.” He growled and scooped you up by your ass with your legs still wrapped around him to carry you over to the tree in question. Then, rough hands stood you up and turned you around with your face and tits pressed against the tree trunk. 

“Bite down on this.” He handed you a balled up wad of fabric that you sort of recognized but weren’t very concerned about at the moment. You simply did as he instructed and accepted the item he stuffed into your mouth. Then, he plunged right back inside of you causing you to let out a strangled groan. 

“What a filthy little girl you are.” He remarked above you, one hand pushing your face against the rough bark and the other was pulling one of your arms behind your back to use as a handle. His thrusts were so hard now that it shook your whole body and the tree you were holding on to. But this is what you love. When he loses himself and gives into his most carnal side. 

“I wish you could see how good this pussy looks taking my cock from behind.” He groaned, watching himself disappear and reappear from inside you. “So good and fucking wet for me.” His head dropped back when you clenched around him, loving his words. The slapping sounds of his hips against your ass were deafening and he only continued to pound you harder 

You sobbed and cried, the sounds muffled by the article of fabric in your mouth and you could hardly keep yourself standing anymore as a third and final orgasm began to simmer. “Oooohh that’s it, pretty girl. I feel you getting close.” He growled. Then he moved his arm to wrap around your front where he could clamp his hand around your throat. Your back was now pressed tightly against his chest and his other hand began to slink down to your clit. He pressed down hard with two fingers, causing you to moan out a sharp cry. “Give me another one, come on. Let me feel you cum around me.” He panted breathlessly, squeezing your throat just the way he knew you liked it. He brushed his lips along the shell of your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. “Cum.” He grunted, licking where his lips had just been while he rubbed gentle circles against your clit. His hips rolled into you at such a perfect angle, you were cumming before you could even feel it, sobbing his name over and over. The intense fluttering and clenching of your walls sent him over the edge in only 3 more mighty thrusts. His groaning and grunting in your ear was only encouraging you more to grind back against him to draw out every last bit of his release. 

“Good girl… shit.. you did so good for me.” He panted, gently taking his hand from your neck so that he could turn you around and help you stand. You held onto his biceps and chuckled weakly, “When did you stop meditating?” 

He gave you half a smile, “When you stopped reading.” 

[writingwrench]

'I miss you,' She wrote, her fingers tapping the screen of the little cell phone.

A response would take a while. She didn't mind, however. She knew Piccolo was a busy man, What, with saving the world and all. She knew he was probably meditating, training, or hanging out with his almost-granddaughter Pan.

She was pleasantly surprised, however, when her phone dinged, showing a text message from her beloved Namekian.

'I miss you too,' He'd wrote back. A grin began to form on her face. He wasn't usually the type to admit his feelings, but ever since Gohan and Pan, he'd basically became almost a big softy (with a tough exterior, of course.)

They'd been together for a while now, ever since Cell came and was inevitably destroyed by Gohan. Thanks to them, but especially her Piccolo, the Earth was safe.

Her phone dinged again, yet another surprise.

'I also love you.'

That was all she needed to pack her things and immediately fly to him.

[piccoloswifers]

Piccolo X Reader

Different ways you disturb Piccolo's meditation

TW: A little steamy at the end, some touching and kissing

Before you two become friends, you would often accidentally interrupt his mediation sessions

Multiple times you would accidentally stumble across Piccolo sitting quietly with his eyes closed, a slight twitch in his facial expression giving away the fact that you were noticed

You would apologize and try to make a graceful exit while he continued to try and ignore you, for the longest time you probably thought he didn't like you

Or you would end up having to purposefully go find him and interrupt him for one reason or another

"Sorry to bother you but..."

"..."

You would start bringing the kids with you to make things less awkward when you two had to interact, something that unintentionally brought you two closer

But once you two start to become closer and consider each other friends, then you start to seek him out without the social protection of the kids with you

You would often find an excuse to go see him, bringing him water and just sitting with him. Piccolo would make a big show of being annoyed but on the inside he was happy

On days he wasn't in the mood to talk, then he would just sit there and listen to you ramble, or you two would just sit together in comfortable silence

Otherwise, you two would talk all day, which was something he wasn't really used to but enjoyed it and looked forward to it the more he got comfortable with you

You two would talk until the sun went down and the night turned cold, your body calling it quits as you started to shiver. Something that made you upset because you wanted to spend more time with him

Reluctantly, you would call it a night and he would insist on walking you back, offering you his cape before realizing you probably couldn't handle the weight of it

If you can't handle it, then Piccolo will get flustered and extend his arm to you to try and keep you close to his body, keeping you warm while complaining that you should bring a jacket next time

You never do bring a jacket, and he never really insists on it

If you're able to handle the weight, then Piccolo will offer it to you every time, never saying anything about your lingering scent on the fabric and his scent on your body

He will sniff it once you're gone and feel embarrassed by his actions, but you're doing the same thing soooo-

Your budding feelings for each other start to build up even more during these little visits, the two of you aching for more but also super embarrassed with each interaction

Once you even brought an old school boombox and played music, singing and dancing along to it until Piccolo was forced to stop ignoring you

"Do you mind!?"

His brain stops for a moment as he watches your body move to the music, a smile on your face as you turn to look at him

"Not at all! Keep being a sour puss!"

He had gotten so annoyed that one moment he was sitting and the next he was suddenly right in your space, grabbing your wrist to get you to stop and using his other hand to grip your chin firmly

You both had froze in that moment, gazing at each other before eyes began to wander to full lips that parted sweetly at the attention...

...only for the music to break the moment, your favorite song playing and making you start to dance again, this time moving Piccolo with you

"Dance with me, Piccolo~!"

"I don't know how!!"

"I'll teach you!"

After you two become a couple, you still go and interrupt him while he meditates but he enjoys it openly and even gets pouty/grumpy if you don't do it

You'll need to come by and kiss his cheek while handing him a bottle of water at least once a day, or else he'll think you're upset with him

Some days, you'll walk up behind him and hug him, leaning all your weight on him and making him grunt softly as he reaches back to touch you

He'll guide you into his lap and wrap his arms around you, letting your hands wander up his chest, ghosting over his neck and cupping his cheeks

It's an act that soothes and grounds him more than any meditation, it makes his heart swell when he looks down and sees your blissful expression

Piccolo is content to keep you in his lap all day, your legs wrapped around him and your face buried in his chest, a clawed hand scratching soothingly down your back

If you try to leave, then his arms will tighten around you, and he'll grunt unhappily before reluctantly setting you down

On certain occasions, when you're in a heated mood, you'll seek him out, pressing your chest into his muscled arm and nipping playfully at his ear

A hot hand will stroke at his chest while you start to kiss at his neck before he catches your wrist, panting softly and visibly flustered

"Right now..?"

His voice already sounds rough with arousal, and you're suddenly pulled flushed against him, both of you already knowing the answer

You lean to accept a greedy kiss from him, his hands guiding themselves down your body and squeezing the plumper parts of it

You run a teasing finger along his jaw as you go in for another kiss, stopping just before your lips touch

"I'll show you a different type of training to meditate on...~"

[actuallysaiyan]

Number 3 with Piccolo please sweet Bacon? (I bet he has quite the talented tongue ;) ) Also CONGRATS ON 8,000 FOLLOWERS ❤️✨❤️✨

warnings: oral sex, smut, lewd themes, Namekian reproductive system talk| dividers: @/adornedwithlight

You’d never really believe it if someone told you a few months ago that you’d be with Piccolo romantically. He always caught your eye every time you two were around one another. And you find yourself simping for the big green alien.

He kept to himself most times, which you really admired. Yet you were more sought after by him than you previously thought. He surprised you with simple courting gifts and other things, which caught you off guard. Soon you found yourself getting into a sexually intimate relationship with him.

Piccolo loved having you under him as he thrust into you. Despite his race reproducing asexually, he showed you that he was more than capable of growing a certain appendage. And it always left you messy, wet and in tears from the stimulation. 

But what he really enjoyed the most was having you under him, your legs spread and open up for him to be able to feast on you. His tongue, purple and long, is perfect for splitting you open and being able to lick and lap up all the sweet, sweet nectar you spill for him.

He has you squirming, bucking your hips for a sweet release. He brings you to your climax over and over and over, making you whine and whimper. You cream all over his tongue, making him grunt loudly as you reach down to cup his head in your hands. You hold him close, being able to feel every sensation of that godlike tongue.

Piccolo looks up at you, watching you come undone from oral sex only. It’s such a sweet look on your face too, with your cheeks burning and your lips parted as you pant and whine his name. You need him more than he could even imagine. It’s not something he’s used to, but when he gets to taste you, he realizes he’s so lucky to be able to have these little moments with you.

He swirls his tongue around your clit over and over, eliciting those cute little moans from you. Your eyes roll back and you arch your back off the bed, making him pull you even closer to him by your thighs. You’re spread open, wet and sopping as his tongue makes you see stars. It’s heavenly to be devoured like this by the beautiful Namekian.

“Look at you,” he coos in his deep voice. “Dripping just for me,”

Even just his voice would make you drip. Just the look in his eyes would be enough, but it’s just everything in tandem that has you so worked up. You’re crying out for him, begging him for just a little reprieve. It’s so much when he begins to devour you and doesn’t intend on stopping until you’re on the bed, panting and fucked out.

“Heh,” he chuckles against your wet skin. “So cute.”

It’s enticing for him to make you drip and dribble like this. It makes all his senses go haywire. And when his tongue continues to lick you in ways that make you feel like you’re about to lose your mind, Piccolo knows that he has no real intentions to stop just yet.

[blackenedsnow]

If you had watch the Og Dragon Ball series, I was wondering if you could write headcanons for Yandere King Piccolo with a female reader? Maybe the reader works for Emperor Pilaf and he takes an interest in her or something like that.

yandere king piccolo x female reader ; headcanons

WARNING: Yandere behavior, psychological manipulation, implied threats, stockholm syndrome elements

PAIRING: King Piccolo x Reader

NOTE: Thank you for this cool request! I hope you enjoyed this! Take care, and feel free to send more fun prompts my way! <333 I had a lot of fun with this, sorry if it's too long </3

King Piccolo is not someone who typically spares a thought for individuals unless they serve his conquest, but you?

You’re different.

Perhaps it’s your intelligence, the way you keep Pilaf’s chaotic operations running smoothly, or how you face him with a defiant spark that most wouldn’t dare.

Whatever the reason, you’ve unknowingly captured his attention.

The moment he notices you, he claims you in his mind.

He doesn’t ask for things—he takes what he wants.

Pilaf, despite his cowardly nature, tries to keep you at his side when he sees Piccolo taking an interest.

Pilaf’s protests are silenced with a single glare, and within moments, you’re no longer Pilaf’s assistant—you’re Piccolo’s possession.

It’s not even a negotiation. Piccolo simply informs you that you’re leaving with him, his tone brooking no argument.

Piccolo’s obsession manifests in possessiveness.

He expects obedience from you, but there’s a twisted respect buried beneath his demands.

He finds your stubborn streak amusing (and oddly endearing) but will squash it if it gets in the way of his plans.

Any attempt to escape is met with swift and decisive action.

You belong to him now, and he’ll ensure you understand that, whether through manipulation or force.

Anyone who dares to harm or threaten you faces his wrath.

While Piccolo may be ruthless and cruel to his enemies, his protectiveness over you is absolute.

He justifies this to himself as guarding his “property,” but there’s a subtle undertone of care that he doesn’t fully acknowledge.

You may not be able to leave his side, but you’ll never have to fear harm from anyone else as long as he’s around.

The more time he spends around you, the more his fixation warps.

He finds himself wanting to keep you closer, to learn more about you, and to control every aspect of your life.

He’ll demand you tell him everything—your thoughts, your fears, your dreams.

He doesn’t understand why he cares, but it frustrates him when you hold back.

Piccolo becomes jealous of anyone who knew you before him.

Even casual acquaintances are seen as potential threats.

Your resistance intrigues him, even as it infuriates him.

You’re not like the mindless followers he commands—you challenge him in small ways, and that keeps his interest sharp.

However, if you defy him too strongly, his patience has limits.

His punishments aren’t physical but psychological—he’ll isolate you, destroy things you value, or remind you just how powerless you are against him.

Piccolo isn’t soft, but his obsession manifests in odd moments of tenderness.

He’ll brush your hair away from your face while you sleep or sit silently beside you when you’re upset.

He won’t acknowledge these acts, dismissing them as inconsequential, but they reveal the depth of his obsession.

If you ever show gratitude or warmth toward him, even out of fear, he’ll take it as a sign of your submission—and it only fuels his possessiveness.

Despite his fixation on you, Piccolo never loses sight of his ultimate goal: world domination.

He expects you to support him in this endeavor, whether as a confidant, a strategist, or simply as a silent companion at his side.

In his mind, your role in his empire is non-negotiable.

He sees you as the only one worthy of standing beside him when he rules the world.

Over time, you might find yourself walking a thin line between terror and fascination. King Piccolo’s presence is overwhelming, but there’s something about his power, his unwavering confidence, that draws you in despite yourself.

Piccolo notices this, of course, and he exploits it mercilessly.

He thrives on the knowledge that you’re starting to accept your place beside him, even if it’s out of fear or necessity.

Even if his plans for domination fail, his fixation on you won’t falter.

You’re his—body, mind, and soul—and he’ll stop at nothing to keep you by his side.

[karume-everything-else]

Flufftober 2024: Day 12

Piccolo x Reader; "All I want is to wake up next to you for the rest of my life."

Standing in the kitchen wearing one of Piccolo's old capes like a blanket, you were trying to cook breakfast. Your half-asleep mind going too fast as you prepped a second plate for your alien lover.

"As much as I appreciate the thought," A grumbly voice behind you making you jump as the owner wrapped his arms around you, "But I don't eat food on a regular basis."

Groaning softly as your spine popped from the extra weight, "I know, I know. Its just a reflex."

Yet he wouldn't let you go, waddling around the kitchen with you as you set the table. Even if he didn't eat, Piccolo still liked drinking fruit juice in the morning. It was a way to bond with you.

But even still, you weren't getting a break as he scooped you into his lap while you two sat at the table. It was always weird, knowing Piccolo doesn't sleep yet he did when you were around. And seeing him act so sleepily with his head on your shoulder barely able to take a sip of his drink.

"[Name]," He finally settled his chin on your shoulder, "I know I don't sleep that often..."

"Mhm Hmm?" You hummed.

"But I wanna wake up next to you for the rest of my life."

You could barely turn your head to see him, realizing he was blushing as he nuzzled into your neck. The way he pressed his nose so firmly against your warm skin, almost reptilian in his behavior after he tries actually sleeping. It was adorable beyond belief.

Though it took a few seconds for you to realize precisely what he said.

[bones4thecats]

Dragon Ball: Super Hero × S/O ; Prompt

Characters: Gamma 1, Gamma 2, and Piccolo Inspired By: Random idea... I guess? A/N: This took a while to write (like three days max) but it was totally worth it. Hope you guys like it! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: FLUFFY BRAIN-ROT ⚠️

Disclaimer: Person A -> G.1 S/O & Piccolo / Person B -> G.2 S/O

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Gamma 1 ══════════════════════════════╝

🦈 The sound of metallic footsteps made the silent Red Ribbon Army Headquarters bearable to walk around without any fear of a cricket chirping out of nowhere. Not that many members of the re-made group feared much

🦈 Gamma 1 strutted around in search of a specific member of the Army, his S/O. They said they would be coming back by 16:00, or 4:00 pm, from shopping for some things that Dr. Hedo needed for a new experiment. Well, that and some things to spoil the young genius with

🦈 He blinked calmly as he approached their door. The symbols that his S/O had drawn laid popping on the wood. While Commander Magenta wasn't fond of the random drawings around, he had to accept it. Y/N was of amazing use to the Red Ribbon Army, after all

🦈 The door opened as Gamma 1 twisted the handle and pushed it inside. The first thing that caught the Android's eyes was his S/O laying on the bed, knees bent on the side of the mattress while their arms did the same on the opposite side

🦈 You groaned dramatically as Gamma 1 cocked an 'eyebrow', wondering what you were doing laying on your bed in such a way. While you normally did sit or lay in unique manners, this was one of the most unique ones yet for your boyfriend

"Love? Why are you laying down in such a way?" He asked.

🦈 Sitting up as you looked at your boyfriend, he noticed a glaring difference on you. Your face had a slight bruise on the cheek, specifically your right one, which Gamma 1 would plant kisses on daily

"You can't kiss my cheek anymore because even the slightest touch makes it practically stab me in the face with pain. This is what it must feel like to be deprived of everything without consent..." You griped as you buried your face into a nearby pillow.

"Why would you think I wouldn't give you a kiss on the cheek anymore?"

"Like I said!" You drawled. "My bruise is trying to murder me!"

🦈 Gamma 1 sighed, you were always a hint dramatic. It wasn't horrible to the point of sabotaging any relationships you had, but it wasn't the best thing to occur when it came out. Normally having it result in your boyfriend carrying you around in his arms or just holding you as you ranted

🦈 Walking to the top of your bed, Gamma 1 reached and delicately pulled the pillow out from your grasp. It was obvious that you had been crying, as your eyes were puffier with the light now hitting them better

"Sit up." He said, making you shuffle upwards to make room for your boyfriend.

🦈 Thankfully, Dr. Hedo had made beds that sustained the weight of both of the Android twins at once, so you didn't have to worry about any incident when laying down together

"Go ahead and lay down," he continued, "and tell me about the rest of your day. Specifically how that bruise occurred."

🦈 You sighed dramatically with your hand over your head, acting like you were in a drama-centered theater production, and began to rant about your day, from going to the store, being hit in the head by a ball some kids threw accidentally, to having to practically force Dr. Hedo into eating something real quick

🦈 Gamma 1 smiled, his metal-cheeks just barely twitching upwards as you acted out. While many would find this quality annoying, Gamma 1 adored it about you. You were different. He liked that.

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Gamma 2 ══════════════════════════════╝

🐳 You were used to your boyfriend, Gamma 2, being a complete idiot. His cockiness usually got ahead of him, resulting in some unfavorable situations to be made

🐳 Gamma 2 was not only having a bad day, but he hadn't been able to see his S/O in over 36 hours! You had been sent out by Commander Magenta to grab some paperwork to sign off a deal with another company and hadn't returned from your miles-long journey to-and-from

🐳 He crashed onto the chair, his feet raising and hitting the ground, making a loud bang echo in the building. The passing soldiers just shrugged and continued on their shifts, weapons raised and guards up

🐳 Gamma 2 groaned as he shifted, trying to bring his knees up to his face to bury into, and it was not going as he planned

🐳 As he kept shifting and trying to bring his knees up into the chair, it was so small that it wouldn't allow anymore room for his feet to rest, which was starting to annoy the powerful-Android

🐳 All of a sudden, the door nearby opened, revealing your form there. Your stoic expression calming Gamma 2 down and making him jump up and fly into you at full-speed

🐳 When he hit your frame to hug you, you mentally thanked Dr. Hedo for adding some enhancements onto your form. He knew that Gamma 2 was an excited fellow and he wanted you to be safe from any kind of danger you faced. You were like the new Android 17 and 18

🐳 Your hair flew back from the pressure of the air before falling back down on your back. Gamma 2 just smiled and clung to your body, asking how you were and how much he missed you

🐳 Blinking as he emphasized his last couple days, you mentally looked a lot differently than you did on the outside. While anyone who passed would've guessed that you were annoyed, a select few (Dr. Hedo and Gamma 1), would know that you were happy to be near your boyfriend

"-And I swear, if I have to listen to another documentary without you suffering by me, I may just combust!"

"Is that so?"

"YEAH!"

🐳 Sitting down in a nearby chair while the Android burrowed his face into your stomach while sitting on the floor, you continued to listen to his dramatic rambles. You could sit here forever listening to his adorable speeches...

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Piccolo ═══════════════════════════════╝

🪺 Piccolo trained and meditated all day, when he wasn't watching Pan with you that is

🪺 Your boyfriend and you normally would just sit down and do whatever you wanted. You normally watched something on your phone while Piccolo just meditated, he enjoyed these moments with you dearly

🪺 But the moments you held deeper was when you could finally get underneath his grumpy-exterior

🪺 Take the other day for example. You had a crap day, coming home from dealing with Bulma and Vegeta's aggression for nearly four hours in a 'therapy session'

🪺 You closed the door behind you with your foot and stumbled into the living room, plopping your bag down on the ground next to you as your legs gave out and you collapsed onto the soft sofa that you got for you, Pan, and Piccolo to rest on when babysitting

🪺 The yells of the husband and wife made you groan and try thinking of something else, ranging from the fight you had against Frieza on Old Namek years ago to the newer fight there was against almost every other universe in existence

🪺 Piccolo then walked inside from the backdoor, his larger form caused larger-sounding steps. So, when he took his first plunge into the home, you knew it couldn't possibly be anyone else except for your Namekian lover

🪺 The Namekian stepped inside from the kitchen and he paused when catching sight of you laying face-first into the cushions. He knew what was up, you had been hired by Bulma to help her and Vegeta handle some anger-issues, and even he knew how bad that could be

🪺 You at first pushed it off like nothing, saying you'd be fine and that it'd be nice to hang around your two old friends. Oh, how wrong you must've been...

"Y/N? Are you alright?" He only heard the muffling of your voice coming from the pillows in a reply.

"Lift your head up. I can't understand you when your burying your face six-feet-deep into the cushions of our couch."

🪺 Pulling yourself up from the softer-materials, you looked at Piccolo and groaned, flopping back on the back of the couch that time before ranting about your day

🪺 Piccolo sat down beside you as you spoke. This ranged from how idiotic it was for the married couple of more than 10 years to argue in such a constant manner. Especially when it would seemingly die out and when one person said another word, it'd go right back up in flames

🪺 As your dramatics increased, Piccolo just watched and listened. His large ears slightly twitched as you swapped from acting like Vegeta in the situation to acting like Bulma. Heck, you even put on a blue hat to be the woman and then picked up a nearby large hunk of broccoli to act like the male

🪺 With anyone else, Piccolo would be annoyed and just interrupt with his opinions on the matter. But this wasn't anyone else, this was you. You were his chosen one. You were his one and only, no matter how long either of you lived to be

🪺 So, for now, he'd let you have your fun while he had his