#day7afterglow

[fanblot]

@tpthvegebulsmutfest - making the long crawl towards the holiday season bearable. Closing out the week of regular prompts with day 7 - After Glow

Cuties <3 <3 <3

[scarletraven1001]

Truly Mine

He may have never said the words, but Bulma knew in her heart and soul that the arrogant Saiyan prince, the love of her life, loved her too.

A seven-year-gap fic, post-cell. One-shot.

An entry for @tpthvegebulsmutfest

Day 7: Afterglow

Also on Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12443826 

Hi again, fellow DB fans!

I received such kind words from everyone when I sent in my last TPTH entry, so I was inspired to write one more!

I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it.

Lots of smut ahead!

8-8-8-8-8

Truly Mine

Bulma was still trying to catch her breath.

She was absolutely exhausted, but that wonderful feeling of lethargy was overpowered by her pounding heart, bursting with so much emotion that the sensation of it kept her from falling asleep.

She looked down at the flame-haired head resting on her chest. He nuzzled her breast, giving it a soft, almost innocent kiss. Their legs were tangled together amongst the unruly navy sheets of their bed, while his arms were wrapped tightly around her waist. Her own arms hugged his neck, one hand lovingly caressing his upper back, the fingers of her other hand playing idly with the hair on his nape, damp with perspiration from their vigorous activities earlier.

Sex with Vegeta was always mind blowing, but there was something phenomenally different about this time. This time, she knew, felt with every fiber of her being, that they had made love.

She looked down and peered into his face, her heart melting at the sight of his closed eyes and serene expression. He was vulnerable at the moment, the look on his face such that his heart was openly displayed for her to see, and she was honored to know that she was the only one who would ever see this side of her husband.

Her husband.

She lifted her left hand to gaze once more at her ring. She still couldn’t believe it.

Bulma Briefs was now a married woman. A wife.

Vegeta was now her husband. She was now the wife of Vegeta.

The words repeated themselves in her head, as she still could barely wrap her head around the concept.

Another wave of emotion flooded her chest and tears began to well up in her eyes. She was so incredibly happy that she almost couldn’t bear it. She felt like she was floating, and only Vegeta’s weight on her oh, so sated body kept her from flying off.

He lifted his head from her chest then, an intense look in his eyes as he gracefully crawled up to be at eye level with her. He lifted his left hand to gently caress her cheek, and on that hand, her eyes caught his own ring glinting against the darkness of their bedroom.

He kissed her then, the touch of his lips so sweet and full of feeling, that it made the tears standing in her eyes finally fall. She was so full of love for this man that she finally uttered the three words that she had always known in her heart, but had never before had the courage to say.

“I love you…”

He simply narrowed his eyes, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath, almost as if he was hiding a gasp, and he dove in and kissed her so passionately that she felt his answer even if he stubbornly still refused to say the words.

His hands started roaming her body again, delicately holding her hips, tickling her waist, and as she felt herself giving in to what she knew would be another rousing session, she thought back to the happenings of the past month that led them to this peaceful moment of bliss.

8-8-8-8-8

“Do you want to get married?”

The question was so sudden, so out of field, that Bulma could do nothing other than stare dumbly at Vegeta. She nearly dropped the dented bot she had been fixing, it suddenly felt so heavy that she would have thought that the gravity chamber she was standing in had been activated.

Her heart suddenly stopped, and then just as quickly restarted, hammering painfully against her chest, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she did, indeed, hear him right.

“Did you just-”

“Woman, just answer me. Do you want to or not?” he snarled at her, looking uncomfortable, standing just out of arms reach for her.

Her scattered wits collected themselves with frightening speed as she took a deep breath, pushing a lock of her short blue hair behind one ear, and carefully choosing her words.

“Why are you asking me?” she asked, her voice soft but unwavering.

Vegeta pointedly looked away from her as he answered, “You were on the phone with one of your asinine friends yesterday, talking about the marriage of those two imbeciles that you always watch on the television. You told her that you had always wished for a large marriage celebration. Now, I will not, even under threat of disembowelment, agree to a large celebration. However, I am not opposed to marriage if you want it.”

Bulma stared in shock at her extraterrestrial lover. A deep red crept into his cheeks as he continued to look everywhere but at her.

“V-Ve-Vegeta,” she stuttered, amazed at this highly unexpected but very exciting turn of events. “Of course I want to. I would absolutely love to. But… What about you? I don’t want to put you through this if you don’t want this.”

“Tch,” he sneered. “I would not have asked if I was so opposed to it.”

“But… but… Do you know what marriage means? You’re not just asking because you overheard me say that I want to, are you?”

Vegeta finally turned to look at her, a light blush still dusting his cheeks.

Bulma wanted to squeal at how cute he was being, but she wisely refrained. This moment was serious, dammit.

“Your wanting it has influenced my thoughts on the subject, yes. But I am not against the idea. I might as well. We have a child, a powerful one, and I need him to be a rightful heir. As empty as my title has now become, the boy is a prince of an entire race, and he must be able to hold that title, even on principle alone.”

Bulma almost sighed. Did she honestly expect the man to profess his undying love for her and drop down on one knee, offering her a ring? Of course not. This was probably the closest she will ever get to hearing him say that he actually does want to marry her and isn’t being coerced into it.

“Additionally, I think I would prefer to be able to call you my wife. Then you would be truly mine, am I correct?”

Bulma actually gasped in shock at what he said, but quickly covered it up with one hand.

“I-I,” she stammered, looking at him through wide eyes. Her stare appeared to make him uncomfortable as he looked away yet again, then turned away from her to leave the room.

“Wait!” she called out, an arm extended in his direction as if to pull him back. “Wait, don’t go. I… I would love to marry you, Vegeta. I really would,” she said, smiling widely in her giddiness. “Let’s get married.”

He turned his head slightly, regarding her out of the corner of his eye. “Yes. Let us marry. And make it soon, Bulma,” he said, walking out of the room, leaving Bulma with a head full of thoughts and unable to concentrate on anything for the rest of the day.

8-8-8-8-8

Wedding preparations were difficult, more so due to the fact that the wedding was to be kept practically top secret. Vegeta had no marriageable identity to speak of, being a literal illegal alien. Strings were pulled, debts of gratitude called in, and all the connections held by her influential family were utilized as Bulma worked to make a fake identity for her husband-to-be.

The legalities involved in marrying an alien was, in a word, a bitch.

But she pushed on, and exactly three weeks after they agreed to marry, Bulma held in her hands a fake birth certificate, fake school diplomas and a real passport for one Mr. Vegeta, the sovereign prince of a now-defunct small nation of people who had lived deep in a rainforest in the south.

Four-year-old Trunks sat on the living room couch, staring widely at Bulma as she spoke on the phone to the people in their local court office, arranging a date for her and Vegeta’s wedding in front of the city’s judge. Her son was scrunching his face in concentration, listening hard, and Bulma wanted to pinch his chubby cheeks as she mentally squealed at how cute her baby was.

He was looking more and more like Vegeta every single day.

Also acting more and more like his father, as his face turned down into a fierce scowl, apparently giving up on understanding what was going on that had his mother so excited. He jumped off his chair and flew off, and Bulma watched as he flew through a window and headed straight for the gravity room.

Plans finalized, Bulma put the phone down and headed for the kitchen to check if any food had been laid out. Her mother, Panchy, was out and had left the cooking to the chef bots.

Panchy was also ludicrously excited about the wedding, that even the disappointment of not having a large celebration did not deter her. She still insisted on taking care of all the jewelry and clothes-shopping needed, and Bulma had to seriously sit her down and swear her to secrecy lest her ditzy mother let it slip to someone and caused a media-frenzy.

Oh, the paparazzi would just love to finally see the elusive father of the little eventual heir to the Briefs fortune.

Upon entering the kitchen, Bulma found enough food to feed an army and thought that it may be enough for her son and her fiancé. In her head, she had been calling Vegeta that since his proposal of sorts, and she smiled as she realized that only a week from then, exactly a month after their agreement, she can finally call him her husband.

The smile was still firmly in place as she called her two favorite boys to come in for dinner.

8-8-8-8-8

The day of the wedding was finally upon them, and Bulma kept shifting nervously in her seat. She was already dressed: a simple, sleeveless, v-neck white dress that reached the tops of her knees, with a thin blue belt and matching blue shoes. She had on some very simple white-gold earrings and a matching bracelet, and she anxiously kept looking at the stairs leading up to the bedrooms, waiting for Vegeta to finish dressing up so they can go.

There was also the matter of the rings. Panchy had been in charge of the jewelry, and her mother had steadfastly refused to show her the rings, insisting that she wanted it to be a surprise.

Trunks was sitting, unusually timid, on a chair in front of her. He knew something exciting was about to happen and looked restless, but she had given him extremely strict instructions to sit still and keep his tiny suit clean for the upcoming ceremony. She had tried to explain the marriage to him, but the four-year-old didn’t seem to care, and merely shrugged, saying “It’s all the same to me. You are my mama, and he is my papa.”

When Vegeta finally dropped down from the stairs, Bulma released the breath she didn’t know she had been holding. He was wearing a navy blue suit and leather shoes, and perhaps, she was just feeling sentimental on this day, but she didn’t believe she had ever seen him look more handsome.

The wedding itself went numbingly fast. A quick trip to the courthouse, and it seemed to Bulma that they were suddenly standing in front of the judge, who was holding up a book that was symbolic of an old marriage register. They signed their paperwork and did not have to go through the vows that she just knew would make Vegeta very uncomfortable.

However, time seemed to stop when the rings were finally revealed to Bulma.

Panchy had given the rings to Trunks, so he could hand it to the judge when the judge called for it. The rings were in a simple blue velvet box, and the judge opened it without preamble before handing it to Vegeta.

The Saiyan then looked at Bulma, his eyes intense, almost as if he was in battle, before he turned the box so that the rings faced her.

She gasped, words escaping her as she stared in disbelief.

Two simple platinum rings were delicately placed, side by side, inside the small jewelry box. This would not have been unusual, except for the tiny symbol carved into the center of each ring.

It was a symbol that Bulma had only seen twice, but knew like the back of her hand.

The royal Saiyan crest was inscribed into each ring, its clean lines and curves distinctive and unmistakable.

Vegeta had absently drawn the symbol on a sheet of paper once, before they had even gotten together, and he had turned away in embarrassment when she asked him about it. She saw it again once more, when she was cleaning his room after they had been sleeping together for some time, and he finally told her of the significance of the emblem then. She knew he treasured the symbol, a sign of his heritage that was now forever lost.

She never would have expected him to have it carved into their wedding rings.

“Vegeta… this… oh my,” she whispered in awe, lifting her eyes to look at a blushing Vegeta, who was clearly uneasy but stubbornly refusing to look away. Bulma heard her mother giggling, and she glanced at the blond woman, realizing that she, and maybe even her quietly smiling father, were in on the plan.

Bulma reached for the larger ring, holding it up while Vegeta did the same with the smaller ring. At the judges cue, they placed the respective rings on each other, and she barely held her tears back as the judge continued reading the rest of the words to proclaim them married.

The judge finally announced that they were now officially husband and wife, and gave the signal for the Saiyan to kiss his new wife. Never one for displays of affection, Vegeta reached up to cup her cheeks in his hands, before he stood straight and gave Bulma a chaste kiss on her forehead.

The lavish meal that her mother had organized for the wedding celebration afterwards was an exercise in excess. Bulma happily watched her son and new husband systematically decimate the food, while her parents and their few loyal household helpers enjoyed more normally-portioned meals along with her.

She felt a bit guilty for not inviting any of her friends, but she knew that Vegeta would not be comfortable with it, and she decided to let them all know that she and Vegeta had married in the most casual way possible the next time she saw them all.

As the day turned to night and all the inhabitants of Capsule Corp had slowly drifted off to bed, Bulma remained in the living room, with a very snuggly trunks wrapped in her arms. Her leg was falling asleep as his weight rested mostly on her thighs, and she slowly shifted to try to lift him up to bring him to bed.

A pair of muscled arms reached for her son, and Bulma looked gratefully up at Vegeta as he effortlessly lifted the heavy child.

“Go on up to our room and get ready for bed, woman. I shall take Trunks to his room and will be with you shortly,” he said as he turned to leave.

Bulma looked up from where she sat, and a giddy sort of delight filled her as she realized that tonight would be their first night as husband and wife.

She rushed up the stairs and hurriedly showered, slipping into a thin blue negligee and matching panties that reminded her of the ones she had been wearing the first time Vegeta took her to bed.

‘This will be another first,’ she thought dreamily, as she quickly ran a brush through her hair, then moved quickly and excitedly to their bed.

When several minutes had already passed and Vegeta still hadn’t returned, Bulma began to worry.

‘Is he not coming up to bed? He said he was going to follow me… did something go wrong?’

Just as worry had begun to set into her mind, the bedroom door opened to reveal her man, still wearing his pants and undershirt from the wedding.

Bulma stood up, intending to walk over to him and pull him to bed, but she stopped mid-step when he suddenly turned his dark eyes her way, staring at her so intently that she felt a small shiver go up her spine.

He approached her slowly, his gaze pinning her to spot, and she found herself unable to move even as he stood only inches away from her. He didn’t touch her, he was so still, and Bulma could have sworn that he was barely breathing.

She kept staring into his eyes, and the world could have exploded behind her, and she would still not have been able to look away from him.

“Vegeta,” she whispered softly, tentatively breaking the silence. He didn’t speak, but his hands slowly rose up to grasp her upper arms in answer.

His eyes started to burn with a feral intensity that Bulma now knew all too well. Vegeta was hungry, hungry for her, and before she even had the chance to gasp, he had pulled her to him, crushing her in his arms as his lips slanted possessively against her own.

Bulma immediately kissed him back, her tongue sliding between his teeth as his own greedily explored every crevice of her mouth. She moaned in delight as his hand began to roam her body, one hand resting on the small of her back as the other slid up and tangled between the blue strands of her hair.

His lips left hers and began to trail down her cheek, stopping momentarily to nip at the edge of her jaw, before planting a wet kiss onto her throat. She whimpered as he began to suck, his mouth leaving a trail of rapidly darkening marks onto her skin.

‘I should start wearing scarves. I’m getting too old to be showing off my hickeys,’ she thought in a daze, her hands dancing around his shoulders as she tried to grasp the hard muscles that she had now completely mapped out in her mind.

“Bulma,” she heard him groan, the sound of his voice filling her with a carnal kind of thrill, and she whispered his name in response.

He pulled away from her then, his lips moving away from her body so slowly that she thought he seemed reluctant to stop kissing her. He looked deep into her eyes again as he brought his hands down to grasp the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up and off him swiftly, and Bulma’s hungry eyes took in the familiar but eternally arousing view of his perfect torso.

‘He is so beautiful,’ she thought as she drank in the sight of the body of the man that was now, by all rights, hers.

He moved to grasp her hips, and Bulma was surprised when she realized that his hands were shaking slightly. She looked up at him in concern, but he silenced her questions with a gentle kiss, his lips lingering sweetly against her own as he slowly, tantalizingly lifted her night gown from her body.

His hands seemed to stop and start as he undressed her, lifting the hem of her dress above her hips, pausing there while he moved closer to plant a soft kiss on her shoulder. His hands moved again, pulling the cloth to bunch up below her breasts, as he moved his hot mouth to lick languidly around her collarbones. He pulled up again, this time completely freeing her of her clothing, and he dropped the gown to the floor before quickly encasing her soft body within his powerful arms, his lips once again seeking out her own.

She moaned into the kiss, completely aroused at his unusually tender movements. Her hands moved down to undo the button on his pants, but he stopped her as she began to pry the garment from him.

She pulled back from the kiss and looked at him questioningly, but he said nothing, and only held her by the waist as he slowly eased them both onto their bed. He had her partly on the bed, her knees hanging off the edge, and he kneeled down before her, his legs around her, his knees trapping her thighs closed.

Vegeta leaned down, his hands once again resuming their almost reverent trek around her body. He caressed her arms, his touch so soft and gentle that Bulma felt like he was paying homage to her body. He then propped himself up on one arm as he swooped down and captured her lips again, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he kissed back with gentle fervor. A groan escaped her as his other hand softly cupped and then teasingly squeezed her right breast.

She felt like putty in his hands, and she mewled as his kisses traveled lower. She felt him shift his legs to place one knee between her thighs, and her hands moved to stroke his upper back as he moved down to take one of her aching nipples into his hot mouth.

She hissed, getting more and more aroused by his actions, and she softly scraped her nails against his back. She knew that he loved her breasts, and she let go of him to pull her arms over her head to lift her bosoms just the way he liked it. He growled at her actions, his arms reaching up to hold her upper arms still as he kept smothering her breasts with his lips, sucking strongly enough to make her gasp and arch her chest to push her mounds further into his mouth.

He stopped worshipping her chest long enough to look up into her eyes and smirk at her, before he moved lower, nipping her stomach as his hands stroked her all the way from her breasts, down the sides of her waist, and down further to gently but firmly hold her hips.

He knelt on the floor now, as he slowly pulled her panties off of her, carelessly discarding the piece of cloth. He lifted her hips to the very edge of the bed, and his eyes met hers as he gently cupped her center, one finger moving to gently tap her clit.

She gasped in delight as the said finger began to slowly roll her bud around in a gentle motion that he knew both excited and frustrated her. She rolled her hips as her hands moved, one of them moving to clutch the sheets as the other grasped his hand that was still on her hip.

He inserted a finger into her then, and she whimpered his name, both still looking into each others’ eyes as he pleasured her with his hand.

A second finger joined in and Bulma groaned, no longer able to keep her eyes open as she threw her head back and panted from her husband’s actions.

“So wet for me. You are so ready for me, aren’t you, Bulma?” He whispered lasciviously as his other hand released her hip to join the one at her core. Bulma couldn’t even speak as she felt him open her with two fingers of one hand, and the other one pushed in to pleasure her more thoroughly. Her pants turned into moans as her hands lifted up to grasp the sheets beside her head, desperately looking for something to hold on to.

He increased the speed of his pumping fingers, and when a thumb joined in to vigorously roll her clit, the breathless sensation of an incoming orgasm began to wash over her, making her cry out.

Without stopping what he was doing, Vegeta leaned down and covered her core with his mouth, his tongue sweeping across her nether lips. His fingers moved out of her only to be replaced by his firm tongue, and Bulma cried out as he lapped at her relentlessly.

She peered down, the sight of his flame-haired head bobbing between her thighs so erotic that a shudder went through her body, pushing her closer to that wonderful edge.

Another lick, another press, and he pushed his fingers back inside her as his sinful mouth moved up, pressing the flat of his tongue against her button. His lips then wrapped around it and after one hard suck, Bulma screamed as a mind-numbing orgasm washed over her, her thighs shaking as she convulsed in pleasure.

Amidst her post-orgasmic haze, she watched Vegeta get up and oh, so slowly push his pants down his hips. Her starving eyes widened as he kicked the offending garment off, her mouth watering as she found that her naughty Saiyan had once again foregone underwear.

Vegeta crawled over her and Bulma eagerly used her arms to push herself up to lie down in the middle of the bed. When they had moved up enough that their whole bodies were now on the bed, she raised one arm to quickly push Vegeta to make him lie on his back.

He grinned at her, a cheeky lifting of one side of his lips, and he obediently fell onto his back.

She eagerly straddled him, leaning down to plant a breathless kiss on his lips. Her hands, hungry for his skin, moved greedily to stroke and caress every inch of him she could reach as her mouth moved downward, lapping at his chest, teasing and tasting the hard planes of his body.

Her hands reached below her, mapping a familiar path down to the tantalizing indentation between his abdomen and thighs. She traced the thin line of hair from the bottom of his stomach, a sexy trail leading to the part of him that no one on earth but her is allowed to see.

Her fingers wrapped around him. He was as thick and powerful here as the rest of his body, and as her fingers worked him, he released a strangled groan of pleasure as he lifted his head to look down at what her hands were doing to him. Up and down, she moved her hands, trying her hardest to fully wrap her small hands around the whole of him.

She could feel her breasts heave as she panted, as hearing the sounds of his pleasure, and knowing it was her who gave him pleasure, aroused her even more. She then leaned down and licked him, and he hissed, the sound dissolving into a growl as she took the tip of him into her mouth.

She sucked noisily, humming and moaning as she tasted his delicious essence on her tongue. She peered up at him, only to find him looking at her, his gaze focused on her as she took delight in pleasing him with her mouth.

She felt his member twitch, and suddenly, he had pulled her off of him, his arms wrapped around her once again as he pushed her to lie back down onto the bed. She blinked when he reached up and pulled down a pillow, and he lifted her head with a gentle hand on the back of her neck to place the soft linen under her head.

He crushed her to him again, his lips finding hers as their legs passionately tangled together. One of his large hands moved down to lift her left leg against his hips as he situated himself between her thighs, spreading her wide open.

He broke the kiss, looking intently into her eyes as one of his arms moved up beside her head, and he braced himself on an elbow as his fingers delved into her short hair.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face close to hers as his other hand moved down, and holding himself, guided his member into her waiting core.

“Vegeta!” She gasped as he slowly pushed in, his body stretching her insides so deliciously, and she greedily clasped onto his every inch as he entered her all the way to the hilt. His hips locked against her own, he groaned, a long drawn out sound of pleasured agony that sang to her heart and pulled a strangled moan from her own lips.

A hand moved to clutch her hip, the tips of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her buttock as he still stubbornly refused to pump his hips. Instead of moving, he simply pressed their bodies closer together, pushing her deeper into the plush mattress with his body.

A sharp, almost physical ache formed in the pit of Bulma’s stomach as he continued to gaze at her, his eyes narrowed in concentration as his body pulsed within her, her own moving to clench sweetly against his delicious intrusion. She gasped as pleasure filled her, the sensation of their bodies simply melded together taking her breath away.

His hand in her hair moved down to gently cup her cheek, his eyes so unbelievably soft in that moment that Bulma had to choke back a sob. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Then, he began to move.

He pulled back with his hips, but the rest of his body remained as flush against her own as possible. It was almost as if he needed to touch as much of her as he could, all at once. Bulma moved against him, taking his cue, grinding her hips against his own as she writhed against his wonderful body.

One hand snaked around her waist, pulling her even closer against him as they moved against each other. Deep, guttural moans escaped him, the pleasure making him grit his teeth, but he did not close his eyes, continuing to look only at her face.

Bulma, who did not possess nearly the same amount of control, had closed her eyes, his name escaping her lips in broken syllables that got more and more garbled by the minute.

“Oh- oh! Vegeta,” she panted breathlessly. She opened her eyes to gaze at him, the look in his eyes and the expression on his face overwhelming her completely. “Ah! You feel so good! You are so good! You are so beautiful, Vegeta… Oh!”

Soon enough, she was moaning incoherently, trying hard to keep her eyes locked onto Vegeta’s as he kept his face so close to hers that their breaths intermingled sweetly. His air was her air, his gasps were her gasps, and every exhaled endearment, sigh and wail was shared between them, both oblivious to anything other than each other.

He suddenly cursed, before he reared up and grabbed both of her hands, pulling them up by the wrists, until both of her arms were trapped above her head, his large hands swallowing her palms in his. Their fingers entwined, Vegeta braced a knee down as he moved against her vigorously, chasing that edge that was hovering only just out of their reach.

Bulma was breathing hard, almost sobbing, as her husband continued to pump in and out of her, his movements fast, but gentle and unhurried. He leaned down to plant a kiss between her brows and he strained against her, his heartbeat thrumming hard against her chest as they both neared that inevitable tumble into ecstasy.

Her body began to seize up, her toes curling in as her head arched up and off the pillow, her voice going hoarse as her whimpers melted into groans and her groans turned into screams.

‘I love you!’ she screamed in her head. She had never said those words to him yet, but she had known for years that she loved him with everything she was and more. She would die a thousand deaths to see him smile.

‘I love you, Vegeta!’ she thought deliriously as his body made love to her soul. His movements tonight made her want to shout the words out, but she caught herself getting tongue-tied around the unfamiliar words, and she keened a wordless plea for more, instead.

She said his name repeatedly, like a benediction falling from worshipful lips, and he answered back, her own name carelessly falling from his mouth as his barriers crashed down around them, broken into dust by the swirl of their emotions, the intensity of their lovemaking.

He ground his hips against hers, and a particularly hard twist broke her, sending Bulma spiraling into completion, his name echoing within the walls of their room as she screamed it with all of her heart.

She convulsed powerfully, the tremors going up and down her spine, and she had yet to come down from her high when she felt Vegeta begin to lose control above her, his hands grasping hers almost painfully as he chased his climax, until he finally reached it.

“Bulma!” he gasped out as his face contorted in near pain, his whole body shuddering against hers, and she felt his essence flood her deep inside.

He began to lose his balance, a shocking turn for the nimble alien warrior, and she slipped her hands from his loosening grasp to hold him gently around his chest, guiding his spent form down, and he, without hesitation, moved down to rest his head against her bosoms, his breath fanning harshly against her chest.

And Bulma, lost in the sensations of what had to be the most amazing sex of her life, grinned as she stroked his arms and basked in an amazing, nearly spiritual, afterglow.

8-8-8-8-8

Now, as Bulma felt Vegeta lift himself up to begin another round, she couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that spread across her face as he began to ravish her body once again.

Oh, he may not be able to say the words just yet, but she knew, deep in her heart, that he loved her too.

She was his wife now, and as he put it, “truly his”.

However, now, as he loved her with his body once again, she realized…

He was truly hers, too.  

8-8-8-8-8

END

[ladyvegeets]

Letting Go - 07 AfterGlow

For @tpthvegebulsmutfest . Read from ch01 here.

“When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be. When I let go of what I have, I receive what I need.” - Lao Tzu

07 - After Glow 

 Her body, skin pale as the new moon, moved over his, grinding… grinding… His scarred hands grabbed her tiny waist as if afraid she might dissipate into the night and leave him aching and alone. He helped set their rhythm until they both groaned, gasped, and melted against each other. 

She crooned against his mouth. “Vegeta, I have something to tell you.”

Alarm bells rang in his head. “What is it?” 

“WARNING. WARNING. IMPACT IMMINENT.”

Vegeta jerked awake and blinked open bleary eyes in confusion. He was alone. A cold sweat dampened his body, his Saiyan uniform sticking uncomfortably to his skin. He had taken the armor with him when he left Earth, determined to return worthy of wearing it, or not return at all. An angry red light flashed in the spaceship as a siren blared. STORM APPROACHING. WARNING. WARNING.

Vegeta tried to get up, but the moment he did his legs gave out and he fell to his hands and knees on the metallic floor. Pain lanced every fiber of his being. He was exhausted, having trained to the brink of death on this god-forsaken hellhole, a barren planet that felt as empty and scarred as he was. But at least it was distraction free. He had landed here, intending to put everything on the line. 

Transform or die. No excuses.

He trained and trained and trained until, on the verge of passing out, he crawled to bed and prayed for a dreamless sleep that didn’t come. Rinse and repeat. It was grueling. The routine hadn’t felt quite so taxing back on Earth where he had home-cooked meals, a soft bed, and a warm body to greet him at the end of each day. In space, it was too easy to lose track of time without a rising sun or gracious hosts to remind him of meal times. He trained to the point of no return with nothing but a hard cot to retire to, and freeze-dried packet food which he rationed sparingly. Who knew how long he would be out here for.

Staggering to his feet, Vegeta stumbled to the computer to take in the report. A giant electrical storm was ripping across the planet’s surface. Frowning, he forced his body to comply and made for the door. Shoving it open, the smell of ozone blasted him full-force. Giant spears of lightening burst across the skies, illuminating the desolate planet and splintering the earth into chalk where it struck. He smiled, the raging intensity of the weather outwardly echoed his soul. This is just what he needed to fill that gaping black space inside him.

He headed out to meet the storm. He trained for hours, his body pleading for rest which he ignored. 

Transform or die. No excuses.

A rock fragment shot past his cheek. Looking up, he saw meteors falling. Goddamnit it, the ship! He had to protect it, or he could kiss his chance of ever getting back to Earth goodbye.

Why Earth?

A vision of blue eyes, flushed cheeks, and pale skin filled his mind, but as quickly as it came he banished it, and replaced it instead with his nemesis: Kakarot. That third-rate buffoon — and everyone else — would be in for a shock to see what a real Super Saiyan looked like. Oh, how they would all tremble at the sight of him, forced to acknowledge that he was the superior Saiyan.

But gloating would have to wait.

Launching into the air, Vegeta hurried to defend the ship from the hail of rocks that pelted down from the angry skies. Blast after blast, he vaporized every meteor that threatened to penetrate the ship’s hull. It should have been child’s play, but he was already on the precipice of collapse. There was nothing else he could do but empty his mind and lose himself to the rhythm of destruction.

The last rock exploded into dust at the touch of his ki. The air stung as he sucked it in, thick with dust and buzzing with energy. There was a strange weight in the air, and a shadow settled over him. Vegeta turned. What he saw gave birth to a dread he hadn’t felt since coming face to face with Frieza on Namek. A meteor, as large as a city, fell towards him. He was running on fumes. It was ironic, really, to think that he, Destroyer of Worlds, would be taken out by the remnants of one.

No. Not like this.

He screamed and threw his arms forward, blasting the meteor. The giant rock slowed but didn’t stop. Creeping onwards, it continued its deadly descent. 

You’ll die the same way they told you that your people had.

Filled with an incomprehensible rage, Vegeta dredged up the last fragments of his energy and put all — every last piece of himself — into blowing up the oncoming rock. His body was splitting from the inside out, overwrought. Finally, mercifully, the meteor shattered.

But so did he.

Thrown backwards, he was flung through the air and smashed through rock, his bones breaking on each impact. He didn’t have the energy to protect himself; only her suit kept him in one piece. He struck the earth hard, a plume of smoke bursting in the wake of his crash. As the dust settled, the wet sound of his breath rattled heavily in the ensuing silence. But death didn’t come; he was too good at surviving. Never give up. That had been his mantra, the only thing that had sustained him and got him up every time he was struck down. You’ve only lost when you believe you’re beaten. Refusing to give in kept him going.

Vegeta clawed his way out of the debris and saw the ship still intact. There should have been relief, triumph, satisfaction, but he felt none of those. Something tore at the very fabric of his being. He had nearly died to save one lousy ship, but what the fuck else did he have?

His people and enemy were gone, and every day that he couldn’t transform chipped away more of his pride. Kakarot could turn it on and off as easily as a fucking light switch…

He had lost.

He had nothing, was nothing. Vengeance and pride had spurned him on for years, but what of them? Who was he? A fool, and a worthless one at that. The universe wouldn’t even blink if he died. He didn’t matter. Maybe he never had. He couldn’t save his father or his race, he couldn’t kill Frieza, and if the boy from the future was to be believed, he was destined to die a quick and inglorious death at the hands of some androids. He was a failure. All his life he had struggled and fought for nothing.

A giant wave of emotion surged up and engulfed him, far too reminiscent of the despair he had felt when he cried at Frieza’s feet. He had failed then too. Fortune had seen fit to give him a second chance, but he had wasted it. 

Slamming his shattered fist into the ground, Vegeta swore in frustration, but the physical pain couldn’t mask his emotional loss. He was done. Fuck Kakarot, fuck the Super Saiyan, fuck her, fuck everything.

Putting a hand over his face, Vegeta finally did what he hadn’t allowed himself to do with her, and let it all go.

…

…!

What…?

What was this? This sensation? It burned. It swept over him, overwhelming, igniting every nerve and vein with liquid fire, and shredded his mind and body. It scorched his lungs, forcing a scream of agony from him. Light, more blinding than the electrical storm, burst outwards, and energy erupted from deep inside to spill without end. The pain ebbed, and through the fire of his mind, Vegeta realized that he lived.

Amazed, Vegeta looked down at his torn hands to see wave after wave of energy sluicing off him. His body thrummed with it. It filled every atom of his core with a godly strength.

He was… this was…

The Super Saiyan!

At last. At long last! The Legendary was his! Maniacal laughter burst forth as he launched into the air and held out his palm. His ki-blast burst clean through the planet and shot out into the depths of space, trailing off further than his eyes could see. It was real. This was real! He had done it, all on his own.

Basking in the afterglow of his achievement, Vegeta turned back to the ship. It was time to reclaim his title. He would show them who was the strongest, and prove his superiority. He didn’t need their validation, no, they simply needed to be taught a lesson. After all, he didn’t need any of them, not a single one of them. Never had, never will. He was invincible! 

Just wait until they saw.

 ~xoXox~

 AN: Aaaand we all know how well that turned out, don’t we? :/

Thus concludes my entry for the 2017 October Vegebul Smutfest hosted by ThePrinceAndTheHeiress. 

MarcellaDuchamp has pointed out that the song ‘What You Do To Me’ by John Legend is a very appropriate fit for this fic, and I would strongly agree.

Can you believe I wrote a serious canon-ish 3 year-gap story? Wonders never cease, huh? Now, back to some AUs… 

Thanks to everyone for your encouraging and kind comments!  <3  Nothing motivates a writer like some hungry readers XD <3