The couple hadn't had time to do any of the acts that had been swarming Vegeta's mind. As soon as they arrived to the chambers there was a knock at the door, and it was Bardock asking for assistance with a propsal. He sighed irritably when he left Bulma to her own devices, wondering if they would ever have sufficient alone time now that his father was deceased.
Perhaps it was for the better, though, Vegeta realized. For he wanted things to be absolutely perfect for Bulma during their - her - first time. And that would perhaps be a challenge if they were needing to rush things during a one hour break between diplomatic meetings.
That evening the Emperor showed Bulma and Vegeta the shipment of carolline. The form was so raw and pure, and Vegeta watched her excitement as she examined a piece in the light.
"I'm impressed, Emperor. I've never seen carolline so pure. It's impeccable - so clean - so pristine."
"My lady, I assure you that everything my planet produces is just as pure as what you hold in your hand." The Emperor puffed his chest out proudly, grinning at Bulma's reaction as well.
"Upon a trade, everything will be at your disposal," The Empress added.
"We still have until tomorrow before making the ultimate decision?" Vegeta smirked. He knew fully well what the decision would be, based on Bulma's eyes, but it was best to keep them waiting. For just a bit longer.
And once the guests retreated to their room, Vegeta was finally alone with Bulma once again. "Your thoughts?" He asked knowingly, brushing a hand against her face.
"I can definitely use that carolline." She blushed into his touch. "For the benefit of the army - and for you, too."
"I promised you," Vegeta whispered, his thumb massaging her cheek. "Anything you desire, you will receive."
He leaned forward to kiss her.
"Sire!" The couple jumped. Vegeta actually let out a curse when he turned to see Bardock poking his head through the door. "Apologies for interrupting, but there is an urgent call for you. It is Zarbon, and he wishes to convey a message from his master."
"Mother of-" Vegeta growled. How many times would they be interrupted right when he was attempting to be intimate!? He ran a tense hand through his hair and turned to his wife. "I'll have to take this."
"I figured," She smiled, her cheeks still flushed. He nodded, backing away slowly. And then he turned and left her alone in the room.
Bulma shivered at the thought of Zarbon. She had met him once before, during a call he shared with her father. She didn't like the way he presented himself, the way he spoke, and the way he looked at her so smugly as he described the terms that Frieza had been demanding for a treaty. The way he licked his lips, and his eyes narrowed when he'd noticed her standing in the corner of the room and observing the call…
… Zarbon was the type of man she wouldn't feel safe with if they were actually in a shared room. And if that's how she felt about Zarbon, she couldn't imagine how much worse Frieza would be. She had never actually met Frieza, as Zarbon did all of the communications for him. She couldn't imagine what he looked like, his voice, or his aura. All she knew was that she didn't want to know…
.
"What do you want, Zarbon?!" Vegeta demanded when he arrived to the call room.
"Come on Vegeta, that's no way to greet an old friend." Zarbon teased. He was holding his green ponytail, stroking it affectionately as he slyly smiled into the camera.
"You're half right," Vegeta smirked. "You may be old, but we're not friends."
"Ouch!" Zarbon deadpanned. He grinned. "I've heard about your recent marriage. That Princess of Earth is quite the looker… I may be old, but I guarantee I could still satisfy her. I have a thing for conquering Queens."
That was too low of a blow. Vegeta knew that Zarbon was just trying to get under his skin, but involving Bulma was too much to take. Vegeta slammed his hands down on the desk, leaning into the monitor. "You son of a bitch!"
"Calm down," Zarbon chuckled. "You know I'm just teasing you… And that leads me to the reason for this call… Frieza sends his condolences about your father. He feels awful about-"
"Shut up!" Vegeta spat. "I don't need, nor want , Frieza's condolences! You tell him to shove them up his-"
"Whoa there! That's no way to respond to an act of kindness!" Zarbon put a hand up.
"Fuck off!" Vegeta snarled. "I know Frieza played a hand in my father's death! I'm not stupid!"
"My, my!" Zarbon sang. "No need to make assumptions, little Vegeta. It's not wise to make such accusations that you cannot prove."
"Fuck that." The saiyan glared. "You tell Frieza he can contact me directly if he has something to say about my accusations."
"So grouchy…" Zarbon frowned. "You must not be enjoying the married life very much. She whipping you down, then?"
"One more off-comment about my wife and I'll blow you into millions of pieces next time we meet." Vegeta growled. He gritted his teeth, wishing he could lunge at Zarbon right then and there.
"Ta-ta, King Vegetaaaa~" Zarbon sang tauntingly. Vegeta managed to made a rude hand gesture just before the call ended. He knew Zarbon saw, but didn't have enough time to react.
Once the call was ended, Vegeta turned to Bardock.
"If I may make a suggestion," Bardock cleared his throat.
"Speak." Vegeta replied.
"It may not be wise to have such rash reactions to words about your wife. We wouldn't want them to think they can weaponize her."
"Like hell they will." Vegeta glared, his nostrils flaring. But he knew Bardock to be right - he'd been thinking it himself, but he just hadn't been able to control those knee-jerk reactions to Bulma being insulted without being present to defend herself.
"Is there anything else?" Vegeta grunted. "Otherwise, I think I'll retreat to my chambers for the night."
.
Tossing and turning.
Sweat formed at Bulma's temples while she panted in her sleep. She was nibbling on her lip, her head rolling from side to side as she wrestled with her blanket fitfully. This nightmare felt too vivid, far too real, and in her head she was screaming.
… In her dream, Frieza was manic. He was sitting in his spaceship, just outside the planet's atmosphere, laughing uncontrollably. His finger pointed in the direction of the blue planet, swallowing his excitement. Bulma couldn't make out what exactly he looked like - she could only see his shadow - but she knew what he was doing nevertheless. And she screamed, unable to interfere. Doomed to simply watch.
On Earth she saw the faces, civilians knowing their soon-to-be fate. Mothers hugged their screaming babies. Dogs ran frantically through the streets, barking. Degree was being kicked up in the chaos.
King Briefs was dropped to his knees, weeping in his throne room. "I've failed them," He cried. He removed the crown from his head and cast it across the room, the jewels splitting off from the impact. "I've failed them all!"
In the palace walls were Yamcha and Chi-Chi, along with all the other servants and workers. They whispered urgently to one another, worry lining their faces.
But where was Vegeta?
Bulma searched and searched for him.
She was terrified, desperate. She knew if she could just find him, everything would be alright. She'd be able to tell him what was happening, he'd know exactly what to do. He'd hold her, make her feel safe. He'd face Frieza and protect them all.
"Vegeta!" Bulma called, her voice echoing into the abyss. Every second that she went without him, her panic only grew.
And then, through the windows, she saw it. The pink blast engulfing the entire sky, falling closer and closer to the ground. The death sentence of the planet. She stopped, petrified, watching as that light grew closer and closer.
"Vegeta!" She cried. " VEGETA !"
.
"Hey!"
A hand was on her shoulder. Bulma sat up fitfully, gasping to catch her breath. She looked around down and saw the red blanket she had been laying under. She looked up and saw the canopy of the royal bed. Bulma looked to her left, realizing where she was.
She was in the royal chambers of Vegetasai.
And she turned, looking to see who was holding her shoulder. And he stood over her, his eyebrows screwed in concentration . "Are you okay?" He asked.
It was him. And she was so relieved that everything had been a dream. But it had felt so real, and her emotions were bubbling as her eyes watered.
"Vegeta," Her voice cracked. "I was so scared…"
"You were having a nightmare," He said quietly, assuring her that whatever had been going through her head was only a figment of imagination.
"It didn't feel like a dream," She sniffled. And then the tears started flowing freely, and she leapt to wrap her arms around his waist. "Vegeta!"
His hands went to the back of her head, holding her close. She nuzzled her wet face into his torso, trying to catch her breath. "It was horrible. The Earth was being destroyed. Fr-Frieza-"
"You dreamt about Frieza?" His voice went low. Part of him sounded concerned, the other a tone of fury.
"He was killing us…" She sobbed. "He-! My father-!"
"Hush," Vegeta whispered. He bent his knees to be face level with Bulma, and he took her chin into his hand. "I'd never let Frieza harm you or your father."
She looked in his eyes, noting the sincerity. And she wanted to believe him. Wanted to know that this was a promise he was capable of fulfilling. But Frieza and the Cold Empire was the most powerful regime to ever exist. He could only do so much, and her desperate tears continued to flow.
It was such a strange sensation. Vegeta had never seen someone, not even his frail friend Nova, presenting so much vulnerability before. The way Bulma shook in his arms and whimpered was gut wrenching. And he understood her fear. Frieza was not a name to be taken lightly, but he'd never let harm come to Bulma.
He wished there was something he could do to prove that.
"Ssh," He whispered, crawling into bed beside her. Still hugging, Bulma buried her face into his chest as she fought to gain control. Feeling helpless, Vegeta ran his hands through Bulma's hair, wishing he didn't have to listen to her like this.
It pained him to hear her like this.
All he wanted in that moment, was to make her feel safe. To make her happy.
"I'm sorry," She sobbed, her voice muffled by his chest.
"It's alright," He assured. And she nuzzled into him as he continued to stroke her head.
—
With the coordinates loaded into the navigation system, Krillin boarded the ship that would take him to Vegetasai. He was alone, with the King having decided for Krillin to leave Roshi on Earth in order to assist Maron in tending to some requirements within the palace. Only Chi-Chi joined him on the ship, not having been able to fit in the pod with Kakarot.
"We just need to stop at one planet on the way in order to get a treaty signed. It needs to be delivered to the Princess," Krillin had explained to Chi-Chi. And Chi-Chi was giddy, excited to reunite with her best friend, and finally see the planet that her lover came from.
It was about four hours into the flight when Chi-Chi came rushing into Krillin's room, her face white as snow. "There's something in the storage room!"
"What?" Krillin replied, having just finished a workout.
"There's noises, and I think it's coming from the storage room." Chi-Chi elaborated, her eyes bulging.
"It's probably nothing, just some boxes that got shifted during takeoff." He waved a hand dismissively.
"Chivalry must be dead!" Chi-Chi declared, putting a dramatic hand to her forehead. "That was the wrong answer. You were supposed to offer to go inspect it!"
"Why should I when it's nothing?" Krillin grunted.
"Because you're the man of the ship!" Chi-Chi snapped. "And I am with child, and terrified! Now go!"
Mumbling under his breath about how annoying she was, Krillin clambered through the ship. Once he reached the storage room he stepped inside, flipping the light switch.
And perhaps Chi-Chi wasn't so shrill and annoying, after all. For there was a single box that had fallen on the floor, and it was actively jerking around. "What the hell?"
"Krillin!" A reply came from within the box at the sound of his voice. Krillin instantly recognized it.
"God damnit!" He spat. And then he remembered Chi-Chi, and made a conscious effort to keep his voice down so she would not hear. "What are you doing here?!"
"Help me out!" The muffled voice called. Krillin approached the box and wrapped it open. Yamcha' who had been hugging his hands and knees, took a deep breath of fresh air. "Thank God! I was running out of oxygen!"
"Be quiet, we aren't alone on this ship!" Krillin whispered. "What do you think you're doing?!"
"I have to see her!" Yamcha replied hoarsely, trying to remain quiet.
"Are you stupid, or just insane?!" Krillin replied. "If King Vegeta sees you, you're dead! He might even kill her for good measure if she's caught with you!"
"I won't let him hurt her!"
"And how do you plan to stop a saiyan!?" Krillin spat. "You're losing it!"
"We'll run away," Yamcha replied. "Just as we always wanted. We'll flee on this ship and go somewhere we'll never be found."
"And what makes you think she wants to go with you?!" Krillin whispered. "I already told you - she's moved on!"
"She would never move on!" Yamcha growled. "She loves me!"
"Ugh!" Krillin popped his knuckles and began to walk to the door. "You selfish bastard! You've just sentenced us all to death!"
"Krillin." Yamcha said. "Bulma needs me."
"You're just stubborn! Now you'd better stay in here for the entire trip. Chi-Chi doesn't need to see you!"
It was so nice to be slowly lulled awake, instead of instead of being thrust into fitful consciousness like the night before. Bulma felt warm as she stirred, moving her face with her eyes still closed. There was a pleasant smell she was breathing in, something soft yet firm that she nuzzled her cheek into.
And she heard a low groan, followed by a careful palm sliding up her back.
Bulma opened her eyes to see his flesh. Her head was laying on his torso, her arms tightly wrapped around. And he was holding her lazily, smacking his lips as he stirred from sleep.
And she looked up to see his face, catching a wonderful angle of his chiseled jaw from where she lay. He was looking down at her, and she smiled shyly. "Hello."
"Better?" He asked.
Instantly she knew what he was referring to. Up until then the memory had evaded her. All she'd been able to focus on what the here and now, the way Vegeta smelled as he held her, the disbelief that she'd fallen asleep in his arms like this. The surprise that he'd allowed it, and kept hold of her all through the night.
"Thank you," She whispered. And she moved her head to prevent her breath from reaching his face, self conscious that it might not be the most pleasant before brushing her teeth.
It was as if he could read her mind. His fingers found her chin and guided her to meet his gaze. And he spoke unabashedly, eyes locked on hers. "I'll keep you safe."
"I know," She smiled, a rush of warmth taking over her. It was as if he'd planned what he would tell her. As if he'd been waiting all night to reassure her once she woke. And the way it felt to realize that - to know he'd actually cared. It was too much to take. Bulma felt her eyes watering this time - but with gratitude instead of fear.
And the next thing she knew, his lips were upon hers. And he was slowly rolling her onto her back, their kiss unyielding.
It felt like he was pouring himself into that kiss. As if he were communicating things he couldn't put into words. And Bulma's heart rushed as he held her under him, gently sucking her lower lip. Holding her face in her hands, using his arms to keep his weight off of her.
It truly felt safe in his hold, underneath, his body shielding from the entire world. It felt like time itself was stopping just for them, allowing them to stay in this way indefinitely. Tucked away from the responsibilities and worries of the outside. At least, until they broke apart.
A warmth was washing through her, starting at her lower region and radiating upwards, rendering her light headed as he buried his face in her neck and suckled lightly at her skin. Her fingers involuntarily went to his hair, gripping. Holding. Just in case he decided to stop. His fingertips trailed down her ribs and towards her stomach, and it felt so tempting as they moved so slow.
The sensation rushing through her veins was so familiar. She'd gotten it after her intimate dreams of Vegeta. She'd gotten it that evening when he'd introduced her to his body. And here it was, back again, trickling through her core. Tickling her pores. Leaving her breathless as uncontrollable noises escaped her parted lips.
His mouth went to hers again, his tongue finding her own. His hands moving from her stomach up to her chest. His fingers carefully crossing over her breasts, with much more consideration than the night they'd been together on the spaceship.
This was a completely different experience, and it was as if that incident had never occurred.
He was delicately moving her sleeve down her shoulder, allowing the gown to slide further down in the front. Nibbling her lower lip again. Breathing heavily into her, and she knew he was just has taken by this as she was.
She hardly noticed when she felt her breasts being exposed, free of the cloth that had been hiding them. The gown was now down to the bottom of her ribs, and the feeling of his bare chest against hers made her fingers tighten into his back. He groaned, as if enjoying both sensations, pulling away from her lips.
And then he was upon them, and Bulma's head rolled to the side as she felt his tongue ravishing her nipples, curling her insides in a way she'd never felt. Her head was spinning, her lungs working on their own accord. Her hands in his hair again, holding it firmly against her as he worked. His breath hit against her skin, wet from his mouth, perking from the heat.
Her entire body was moving against him, her hips rolling in circles. Instinct making up for her lack of experience, she knew what she was wanting. And he seemed more than eager to give it to her.
"Vegeta," She managed to gasp, and he nodded against her breasts as his teeth gazed one of her nipples. "Ah-!"
"Alright?" He growled, moving his face back up to hers. "Are you-?"
"Yes." She whispered. "Please-"
His hand was on her left thigh, pushing the gown up, staring into her eyes. His voice husky, his eyes deeply black. His pupils piercing hers. "Are you afraid?"
"Quite," She breathed. And then she rolled her hips into his again, and she was glad he knew not to stop.
"I promised." He reminded. "I would always treat you gently."
Her eyes closed with his fingertips graced her nether lips. Her voice attempted to break out into a scream, and she bit her lip for silence.
How could she handle this?
Every time she thought she'd reached her tipping point, he did even more. It was as if her threshold was being tried, over and over, and she desperately needed some sort of relief. Her legs opened instinctively, and his hand repositioned against her core.
A single drop of sweat was forming on her forehead, and she opened her eyes to see him. Still staring into her. His jaw clenched. Not blinking. Studying her expression. As if he wanted to be sure he wouldn't miss a thing. And she wondered, fleetingly, if time felt just as fictitious for him.
"Veg-" She attempted. She needed to tell him what he was doing to her. Beg him for sustenance. Put a stop to this fiery need that was making her ears ring.
"Alright?"
She rolled her hips in response, grasping at his chest. The breath that he let out had such a decadent sound.
And then, despite her eyes being closed, everything went white. She wondered if this was what it meant to see stars. She threw her head back, unable to muffle the moan that escaped when he brushed his knuckles against a certain part of her. The sensitivity rendering her speechless, her fingertips digging into his skin as he brushed it again.
" Ah! " She gasped, turning her head to the side as it spun with the overwhelming sensation that made her clench her toes.
And then the sensation stopped, and she could feel his fingers brushing yet another spot. Where her muscles were clenched, the need for friction one she hadn't registered until it started. She moaned yet again when his fingertip dipped inside her, carefully swirling in a circular motion as it slowly dug deeper in.
"Vegeta," She breathed, and it felt like her head was coming out from under water when she caught her breath. "Vegeta-"
"You're so tight," He was grunted.
She opened her eyes to look at him again. And his face was flushed. He looked at if he was holding his breath, and she knew it was from self control. Just as her instincts told her to call his name, there was a primal voice within telling her that he was just as desperate as her. Just as hungry for a relief, and she knew he it was taking all of his will to go at his current pace.
The finger went deeper still, and this almost hurt. It almost felt like something inside her was tearing. But it was a minor sting that was underlying the need for more. An aftertone to a chorus.
His eyes widened as she watched, surprise lining his face. It seemed that a realization was dawning upon him. She wanted to ask what was wrong, and if it had to do with that internal tearing sensation. But it felt too good. She didn't want to - couldn't - word such a question now. Perhaps if she remembered to she would ask later, but his palm was rubbing her sensitive nub again while his finger brushed her insides, and all she could do was gasp.
"Alright?" He asked once again.
All she could do was nod.
And then it was gone.
It felt cold. Lonely. Empty, and stalled. She opened her eyes in protest, to ask why he'd stopped. But he was positioning himself over her, face level again, and his was looking down her body. The gap between them.
Her eyes followed suit, and her breath hitched when she saw his member. His hand was holding it, guiding it towards her body. And she barely had time to think.
This was happening.
It could never go any farther than it was now.
And she didn't feel afraid of this.
The knowledge didn't alter her needs.
It was merely an observation. An acknowledgement that things would forever be changed. A mere fact that was becoming her, just as it was true that the sky was blue.
"Alright?" He breathed, his voice cracking. He could barely get the word out. And she nodded, swallowing a dry bubble of air. He must have been looking at her to see her gesture, because he simply moved closer against her.
And she felt it.
Another pressure against her core. Digging at that same spot his finger had found. But this was bigger. It was wider, and she felt herself stretching in receipt. It was warm, and it added a moisture inside as it moved, and she heard his breath hitching against her ear.
It was transpiring so slowly. The sinking, the friction. The stretching, and that tearing sensation again.
It was stronger than before.
It actually hurt.
Bulma's eyes shot open, and she grasped at his back. She let out a deep breath, but it came out with more of a whimper than she intended. And he stopped moving, his hand brushing against her hair.
"Please," She whispered, her eyes growing wet. "It's okay."
And he looked like he was in just as much pain as she. "You're so tight," He breathed again. She gave him a watery smile, and his eyes deepened. He smirked back, and then found her lips with his.
This time he didn't suck or nibble on her lower lip. His tongue didn't ask for entrance to her mouth. He just pressed his lips into hers, holding firmly the embrace, and her eyes closed again. When her hands moved to his hair, he began to sink further in.
And in the next moment, his pelvis was pressed against hers. And she knew he was all the way in. The desire having been replaced with the panic of the pain, she broke out of the kiss, letting out a hoarse laugh at the achievement. He did not respond verbally. Instead he proceeded to move again, undoing all he'd just accomplished. Unsheathing himself from her warmth, moving outwards from within.
It ached. And the rip seemed to grow still. But a moment later he was sliding back in, and with it started a friction. A warmth. Something was building in spite of that soreness, and she could feel his wiry hairs rubbing against her sensitive nub.
"Oh," She sighed. All of that relief, all of the need that had been growing since they'd started their kisses. She still needed more. But the desire within was grinning, was assuring her that she was giving it what she wanted. That if she continued, she'd reach that unidentifiable place she wanted so desperately to reach.
The warmth grew, his hair continuing to rub against her sensitive nub. His length filling her up so fully that it extended all within. Creating a tightness in her nub, her muscles squeezing against him.
And she could hear him groaning and grunting, but she could hardly register the sounds.
She wouldn't be able to see, even if she opened her eyes.
She couldn't think cohesively, even if she tried.
Bulma let out a cry, her fingernails scratching into his back. Rather than hurt, this seemed to only encourage him, for he began to move faster. And the friction only increased, her lips moving sporadically as she expressed her encouragement. She knew there were no words to decipher, only sounds. Only noises, loud breaths, indulgent whimpers.
And she couldn't take it anymore. The friction was too much, the heat on her nub, the friction inside. She threw her head back, unable to hold in the cry.
She could feel her muscles clamping around him, her hips moving against his in an urgent need. A wave ran down her back, tears of triumph sliding down her cheeks. She was engulfed in this sensation, drowning. Being pulled both into the ceiling and down into the floor at the same time, her skin tingling from her scalp to her toes. All she could do was cry out again, and again, and again, hardly noticing when he buried his face into her collar bone and licked at her flesh.
He was moving even faster, hard enough for her body to recoil from his thrusts. And for a moment the pain returned, but as soon as it registered, it was done. He sank into her, gasping in her ear, his pace slowing to a halt. And she knew his head was in that same place of ecstasy she'd just come down from. His lips sucking her earlobe affectionately, his hips twitching as he groaned.
He lay there, his weight pressing down against her, her hands still grasping his back.
Neither of them moved.
Time was continuing its promise of staying still, and Bulma smiled gratefully.
Until they separated, she remembered, there was nothing else in the world. All matters were put on hold. All worries, stressors, dangers, and fears. In these chambers, they were nonexistent.
And as he pressed his lips against hers again, carefully pulling out of her core as he held her tight, Bulma felt another tear roll down her cheek.
She didn't want time to start again.
