Thank you so much to everyone who has read this story and to those who have also reviewed it and given me feedback! You've all motivated me to keep going with it instead of leaving it as a one shot, hopefully I do not disappoint!
Chapter 2
His arms burned with exhaustion as he pushed himself off the ground once more. The force of the gravity was taking its toll and he could feel his fatigue grow. His body glistened with sweat whilst he attempted another kata, his form less than perfect. He was growing weak. Instead of pushing himself to his limits each day, he had been neglecting his training for her. He was sure that he was losing it as one thought continued to burn in his mind. She's pregnant. The impossibly weak woman was carrying his child. His. A mistake he should never have made. He grunted in pain as a blast shot from one of her bots, grazing his skin. He was furious. Releasing a ki blast at the last functioning bot, he destroyed it before powering down the gravity, breathing heavily as his muscles finally found relief.
It was useless. He couldn't train when his mind was so unclear. He was used to focusing all his thoughts on a single all-consuming goal. This used to be beating Frieza; destroying the lizard and making him suffer for what he had done to him and his people. When that clown Kakarot had taken his birth right, he had found a new purpose. He had to achieve the legendary status of a Super Saiyan himself, and then defeat his rival. It had all been so clear until she forced her way into his life.
The blue-haired banshee. He was once foolish enough to believe that Frieza was that most terrifying creature the universe had to offer. But as time went on he began to believe that the banshee would have been able to reduce Frieza to nothing had they ever met. At the very least she could have made him deaf with all of her wailing. A smirk crossed his face as he thought of her. All his life he had fought evil beings capable of more heinous acts than any of these pathetic earthlings could even comprehend. He had prided himself in his ability to tear down enemies and prove himself the best. He was a strategist, he could look at a battle and break it down within minutes, plotting the course of action that would prove the most successful. And yet for all his brilliance he found himself losing against her. She was a true force to be reckoned with, and perhaps that's what had peaked his interest at the start.
This weak, vulgar woman had ensnared him into a dangerous game. The moment she invited him to stay with her with the promise of food and training equipment she had started them on a hazardous path. She didn't tremble like the rest did. Hell, she'd even flirted with him. The most dangerous man left alive in the universe and she didn't even flinch. She was insane, and that insanity only grew the longer he lived with her.
He had wanted to break her but she had enough pride to rival his own, refusing to act as his servant. He had needed her to tremble with fear like everyone else, to reinforce that she was just another weakling and the only reason she was still alive was because she served a purpose for him. But she didn't care. She would dismiss his demands and antagonise him whenever she could. And worse yet, he didn't kill her. She would constantly push him past his limits and he couldn't even raise a hand to hurt her, uncomfortable with the idea of marking her perfect skin.
He would spend hours training, trying to understand why he'd even cared enough not to harm her. He'd narrowed it down to one thing, she was the only creature on the filthy mudball of a planet he respected. Of course, he'd never tell her that. But she somehow knew. She read him like an open book, even though he was sure he gave her nothing. And the more he pushed her away the more she persisted in her mission to befriend him. He couldn't understand her motive. He was dismissive of her. He treated her like dirt and still she would greet him with a smile, followed by a verbal lashing over his manners. He had grown angry believing that her delinquent disregard for her safety had emerged from pity for him. But that wasn't it.
"I will never pity you Vegeta. You don't need it. You would not be the man you are today without your past. You are a survivor. That is something I can only admire…"
He had had her pinned against a wall, his eyes ablaze with hatred at the way she had tried to discuss his past, as if she had any right to make him relive that hell. But he had faltered when she had softly said that, because the woman did not lie. He saw it in her eyes as they filled with unshed tears. She truly believed him to be a better man than he was- and for just a moment he had wanted to be. So he had stormed off, locked himself in the gravity chamber and pushed himself as far as he could go until the damn gravity machine had exploded. He couldn't forget waking up to her sleeping form on the chair beside him. Though a large part of him believed she had ulterior motives, a very small part of him hoped that he was wrong, that the blue haired goddess could somehow redeem him from the hell he had known. That part of him was a fool.
From that day, he was sure she went out of her way to infuriate him even more. She was everywhere he went! A whirlwind of blue storming into his life every chance she got. He tried to avoid her, locking himself away to train for longer but the woman wouldn't be denied and would wait up late to join him for meals. It was during these private times that she would talk and on occasion he'd listen. In truth, he often got lost in her brilliance. Her mind exceeded his expectations as she would go about devising him greater training gear and new armour. Sometimes he'd even help her, discussing different technologies available in the universe, watching her cerulean eyes sparkle with excitement at the thought of what else could be out there. She had the most brilliant mind he had ever come across, but she faced setbacks with the technology available on her planet. Were he a better man he may have even considered showing her what the universe had to offer. But he wasn't. He couldn't care, he was incapable of being anything less than a monster.
Still she pursued him. The wicked wench was trying to break down his walls. Trying to entice him into a game he wouldn't play. But during their time together her scent became intoxicating. She'd grown bold with her actions and began to tempt him with casual touches, grazing her delicate fingers across his arms. When she'd meet him late at night for a meal she began to show more skin, coming down in delicate night gowns that barely covered her creamy thighs. She was a calculating minx and he was beginning to question his will power. What could be so wrong in engaging in a mindless fuck? He knew she wanted him. He could smell her arousal every moment she was around him. But he also knew her. Once would not be enough. Hell, he wasn't even sure if once would be enough for him either. He needed to taste her sweet nectar. He needed to hear her writhing in pleasure whilst screaming his name, and after many infuriating months he surrendered to her advances.
She was so much more than he had ever bargained for. Never had he engaged with another female. Not because he hadn't had the opportunity to, but because he would not lower himself to anything less than a Saiyan. But she was the closest thing in this universe to a Saiyan. Not only was their physiology almost identical, but her attitude was more head strong than any of the Saiyans he had ever met. Despite her non-existent ki, he was sure she would find a way to destroy weaker Sayains with that brilliant mind of hers. And so he lost himself to her, becoming addicted to her mind and body. He would have her create more bots and upgrades for his training by day, and then take her all night long. He knew he should stop but she made him feel alive. Hell, for once he felt something more than just anger.
He remembered the day he found out she was pregnant. She had avoided him for a solid week before he finally got sick of her behaviour and sought her out. The woman was many things, but a coward was not one, so he refused to let her hide from him any longer. That's when he had felt it. An overwhelmingly strong ki was coming from her. Only it wasn't hers. He knew immediately she was pregnant with his child. He was so shocked that he hadn't even realised he'd placed his hand on her stomach, trying to determine just how strong this child was. She'd watched him in anticipation as he'd pulled away, hand trembling slightly. It was a boy. He was having a son, and his son was more powerful than he had ever been at that age. One look into her vulnerable eyes and he'd fled. Too overwhelmed with foreign feelings to stay with her.
He'd flown to a mountain and simply stood there, gazing at the earth. His mind was racing. He had a son. He was more than some halfblooded weakling. He was strong. Stronger than he ever would have anticipated. But he wasn't a father. He did not know how to feel or nurture. Throughout his life, he only knew pain- how to both receive and give it. He'd lost himself to the madness of it all years ago, and it was not something he could separate himself from. But it was easier with her around. She didn't see him as a monster. Hell, she'd told him that on so many occasions he had wanted to believe it. Everyone feared him, but her. Would his son fear him as well?
He had brought his face to his hands, feeling lost once more on where to go next. But there was only one place he'd ever felt comfortable and that was in the arms of that blasted woman.