The Light to my Darkness

BY : SaiyanPrince541
Category: Dragon Ball Z > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 5435

Chapter 37: Acceptance

Only a few days passed, since Vegeta's arrival, yet he could move his arms and torso easily enough by this point, so much so, that it was deemed okay to take him out of the hospital and into Bulma's bedroom, where she stayed by him, most of the time. The Namekians kept to themselves and a while earlier, the Son family had returned home, despite Bulma's insistence that they stay. Chi-Chi promised to visit every now and again and before leaving, advised her blue-haired friend, to be cautious around that nasty Saiyan. Bulma rolled her eyes at the memory. Gohan was reluctant to go, but caved in eventually, saying his farewells to both her and Vegeta, before departing, though the latter responded with a mere grunt.

Now, she would often find Vegeta practicing an array of hand and elbow-strikes, whilst seated on her new queen-sized bed, just to re-familiarize himself with some combative basics. All he needed was to get these darn legs functioning properly. It was disgraceful that one such as him required assistance going to the restroom, whenever nature made it's rattling call or whenever he needed a bath, neither of which occurred that often, thankfully enough.

Incidentally, the two of them hadn't yet copulated, since he was unswervingly determined to recover as quickly as possible and argued that sex would only impede his progress. While that was kind of true, it didn't irk Bulma any less. He was being distant and that made her feel insecure.

"Hey, have you seen my socket wrench, anywhere?" She asked one night, a few hours after dinner, as she rifled through box after box, of tools. She'd already changed into her powder pink, buttoned night shirt, decorated with love hearts and a trigonal name tag embroidered on the upper left hand side, with 'Bulma' imprinted in the centre. At the last minute, however, she remembered that she still needed to complete the final adjustments on a vital component of a miniature spy drone prototype, before hitting the hay.

"Tch, how would I know?!" The grouchy Saiyan scowled. "Take care of your own mess!"

"Way to be supportive, jerk!" She glared back at him. "I don't just take care of my needs, I take care of yours too, so maybe you could show some freaking appreciation, once in a while!"

"I never asked you for anything!"

"Alright then, how about I just leave you here to starve and fend for yourself!"

"Go ahead, I don't care!"

"Fine, asshole!" She huffed, slamming her hands on the table, as she got up out of the chair and headed for the toolroom to find herself a new half-inch ratchet, all the while indignant. "That loathsome little creep! He's got some nerve!"

"Stupid wench." Vegeta cursed, as she left. "Like I need her."

Growing weary of lying on that damned bed all day long, the Prince rolled off, his knees and carpals, landing on the plush carpet, below. He would force his legs to function properly, whether they wanted to or not. Vegeta grit his teeth, pushing his knees upwards, so he was sitting on all fours. A few heavy breaths later, he was balancing himself on both feet, knees bent, as he strained with the effort to stand up. This was a whole lot tougher than he'd anticipated! He progressed several inches, before he lost his balance and was back to square one.


That was the sight Bulma walked into, as she opened the door and closed it behind her. Dropping her ratchet, she rushed over to the Saiyan, fell on her knees and placed an arm around his shoulder.

"Hey, you alright?!"

"I'm fine!" He hissed back. "Leave me!"

"You idiot, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" She berated.

"I need to train!"

"What you need to do is shut up and listen to me!" The heiress snarled. "You can't train like this! You've gotta heal, before-"

"No!" He fiercely interjected, gnashing his teeth her way, obsidian eyes burning with dogged resolve. "I have to do this! I must get my strength back!"

The heiress stared at him blankly and after a moment or so, she couldn't help but smile, forgetting why she was mad at him in the first place. His undying passion and determination, to break all bounds and limits, never failed to ensorcel her.

"You will get stronger." Bulma sighed, nuzzling into his neck and inhaling in deep. His musky scent always lit her up with joy, no matter how sour she felt towards him. "But for now, just rest." She exhaled blissfully against his lymph nodes, practically making his legs turn jello, as his heart raced.

"No- I must train." The Prince shook his head in protest. She gingerly rubbed his back up and down and placed a hand on his chest, relishing the euphonic staccato of his enlivened heartbeat. He'd regained some of his muscle mass, which was definitely a plus. Darn Saiyans! They could eat ten restaurant's worth of food and it wouldn't cause them a smidgeon of harm, just make them stronger! If only she were blessed with such transcendent physiology!

"Shhh, just relax." Bulma cooed. "It won't be long now. You're healing fast and I know you'll be a Super Saiyan again, in no time at all."

"How do you know about that?" The Prince narrowed his eyes, losing inch after inch of control, as she tended to his cool upper-body, with her warm, dainty hands.

"Everyone knows." She kissed his shoulder and smiled. "And I'm glad you did it because of me."

"What?!" He tightened his jaw. "Who told you that?!"

"Krillin did." The heiress ran her nose along his cheek, eliciting a series of shivers from him.

"Damn that little, yellow-bellied scoundrel." Restraint was slipping, as Bulma continued snuggling against her Saiyan, creating goosebumps, everywhere her hands travelled. Ultimately, he gave in and allowed her to help him back on the bed. She lay next to him, resting her chin on his shoulder. He looked upon her gravely, faces, but a few inches apart. "You shouldn't have done that." The Prince mumbled.

"Done what?" She breathed, planting a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Interfered with my battle." He frowned, in askance. "You had no obligation to-"

"I did have an obligation." She interposed, expression solemn. The heiress positioned herself above him, straddling his hips. "And if I had to do it all over again, I would, without a second thought."

"Wh-Why?" He asked, baffled beyond words. How could a pure soul like hers be willing to sacrifice everything for a demon like him, who knew only how to inflict and endure pain, slaughter the innocent and destroy civilizations, one after another?!

"You know why." She rejoined earnestly, azure eyes beaming with radiant light from the heavens that shone brightly, within the depths of the Saiyan's darkened soul, re-invigorating him. "I'm yours, Vegeta." She took hold of his hands and leaned her forehead against his. "I'll always be yours."

The Prince blinked a few times, coherency escaping his cold clutches, as the seconds leisurely strolled by, in no real hurry.

"Say it again." He breathed into her lips, winding his shaggy tail around her bare thigh, right below the hem of her night shirt.

"Say what again?" She asked, eyes fluttering, as yet another strong surge of want, spiralled within her. She hadn't felt that furry appendage of his, in a long time. It only accelerated her desires further.

"Tell me you're mine."

Bulma smirked and moved her lips towards his ear, catching him completely off-guard with her ensuing reply.

"You're mine." She whispered.

Vegeta froze, overwhelmed with shock at the impudence of this little female. How- how dare she, a mere Earthling, profess any claim over him, the Prince of all Saiyans?! Did she not know her place?! The heiress heard a low, remonstrative growl emerge from the hollows of his chest. Oh, he definitely didn't like that! Her smirk widened into a broad grin.

"You're my Saiyan." She purred and kissed his temple. Her words reverberated throughout his mind, making his heartbeat soar, as an ocean of warmth ran through him, snuffing out the indignation felt at her initial remark.

"B-Bulma." He breathed, intertwining his fingers with hers, having not the slightest clue, how much his female savored the sound of her own name, in that gravelly voice of his. Bulma felt a kaleidoscope of butterflies, fluttering their magnificent wings and collectively humming a melodious, love-ridden tune, within the base of her stomach, making her legs lose nearly every bit of strength they had. She shut her eyes and pressed her mouth against his, opening it up immediately and letting their tongues dance together, with the captivating tune.

A/N: Hardcore, super-vulgar lemon follows, for a while so viewer's discretion is strongly advised for all those underage and/or hyper-sensitive!


Vegeta's tail ventured deeper and deeper, till it arrived upon its treasured destination. He scowled in exasperation, as her undergarments hindered him from reaching her most sacred region. Bulma's eyes widened, heart skipping a few beats and breath hitching, as she felt the furry appendage slip inside her panties, from the top and gently run up and down her cleft, rendering her legs void.

"Vegeta!" She gasped, as it pressed against her clit, hitting just the right spot, again and again, prompting her fragrant juices to escape on their own accord and intoxicate him with their sweet aroma that wafted through the air.

By God, she never knew that such a move could be ever so rapturous. The puppy-soft fur of his pecan, prehensile tail, within her, triggered her mind to leap straight towards the heavens and linger there for an eternity. She groaned in disgruntlement and hit him on the chest, when she felt the appendage slip away.

"Patience, female." He smirked, never having known a woman with a sexual appetite, quite like hers. The Prince slowly lowered her panties using his tail, purposefully taking his sweet time about it. Bulma growled in severe reprimand and struck him more forcefully. Growing weary, she hurriedly removed the confining underwear with her own two hands, before taking hold of the appendage and pleasuring herself with it. She'd never imagined that sexual gratification could reach such unforeseen heights.

Vegeta nearly reeled with shock, his lungs freezing, as she repeatedly pumped his tail inside her core, coating it's upper section with her sweet, enthralling fluids. He moaned and panted, his shaft as hard as a rock. Bulma shamelessly continued her lascivious maneuvers, until her climax crashed down like a bolt of thunder and her vibrant cries of ecstasy echoed through the halls of Capsule Corporation.


Her entire body lost sensation, as she collapsed on her Saiyan's chest, breathing raggedly against him, her disoriented mind amidst a cluster of jubilant clouds that reflected the warm glow of a smiling sun. Vegeta placed an arm around her waist, eliciting a honeyed note of approval, from his blue-haired female. That was definitely a whole new experience for the feisty pair, not that either of them was complaining. Only now did the Prince realize that his tail wasn't nearly as erogenous as it was before, else he would've eaten her alive by now; must've been some side-effects from Kizdar. Five minutes of companionable silence ensued, before Bulma's breath caught up to her and she finally regained the ability to speak.

"Vegeta?" She murmured.


"You're amazing." She smothered his face with a plethora of protracted kisses. "I love you." Since Namek, she hadn't vocalized those three words.

Vegeta suddenly broke free from his reverie, as he her statement fell into place. He looked at her ambivalently, his obsidian eyes losing their shining gleam and turning stone cold, not giving away a shred of emotion.

"Hey, what- what's wrong?" Bulma asked hesitantly, her heart sinking, as she noticed his closed-off expression. He grit his teeth.

"You said the same thing to me, right before you died!" He hissed.

"Yeah, I know, but what does-"

"What the fuck were you thinking, going in there, provoking the likes of Frieza?!"

"Hey, I thought we'd been over this!" She retorted, with a frown. "I told you that-"

"That what?!" He ardently interjected. "You're willing to die, for scum like me?! Just how stupid can you be?!"

"I'm not stupid!" She fired back. "And you're not scum! Why do you have to hate yourself, for?!" She cried. "I'm alive, you're alive and Frieza's dead, so why can't you just let it go?!"

"You don't understand!"

"What don't I understand?!"

"You're a weakness!" He blurted out, cutting right through her heart.


"Do you know the first thing I was taught, when I was recruited by Frieza?!" He asked, in exasperation and continued, without waiting for a reply. "Using your enemy's weakness against them! I learned that the hard way- twice! When that bastard killed my father and destroyed my home world and when-"

His words caught in his throat, lungs constricting so much, that he found it difficult to breathe, never wanting to so much as speak of that horrific moment, ever again. He cast his gaze aside, a few tense moments passing by. Bulma sighed and nestled her face into his neck.

"I'm not a weakness!" She contended, her voice, impassioned and tears cascading out her eyes. "You turned Super Saiyan, because of me! You beat Frieza, because of me! Why can't you just accept the fact that some things will always be out of your control?! Why can't you accept me?!"

"Stop blubbering all over me, stupid girl!" A vexed Vegeta chided, grabbing her by the waist.

"I'm not a girl!" She screeched, sitting up and punching him in the chest, with her tiny fist, to no avail.

"Then quit acting like one!"

"How about you stop being such a jerk?!" She shot back. "You're the one who started this!"

"Dammit, just shut up already!" He grumbled, wearily. "Stupid crybaby!"

"I'm not a crybaby, you dick!" She pressed her inner-thighs, against the sides of his torso, evoking a unwitting, low growl of pleasure, from him. Dammit, now that he thought about it, she wasn't wearing any panties. He could feel her lower lips brushing against his abdomen, as she ranted, vitalizing his erection, further and further.

"Woman." He shuddered, rubbing her glossy, silken legs, up and down. Bulma's stomach summersaulted at his touch and the corresponding gruffness of his sexy timbre. Her primal urges returned once again, causing any thoughts of their heated discourse, to gallop over a cliff. She moved her face a hair's breadth from his.

"Saiyan." She lilted, kissing his lips and parting her teeth, in a silent invitation to partake in yet another dance of tongues. Each party was prepared to engage the other for an eon, Bulma loving his rich, raw, masculine taste and Vegeta, unable to tire of the flowery, ambrosial flavor, dormant within the sweet boudoir of her mouth.

The Prince was about to flip over and take charge, but Bulma kept him down, with a hand to the chest.

"Hey, I'm piloting this one, understand?!" She narrowed her eyes, in protest. Vegeta grunted distastefully, at the blatant vulgarity of her statement, though it didn't fail to spark, yet another fiery flame of desire, within the pit of his stomach. He'd never copulated in this position before. He wondered what it would be like, with his sprightly, little female on top. "Just lie back and enjoy the ride, my Saiyan." She purred. Vegeta's legs suddenly felt a lot heavier, heart thrumming and soul vivifying, at her soft term of endearment. He released a breath of surrender, expression stoic, but ebony eyes, once again gleaming with life. Maybe this would be worth it.

A/N: More lemon follows, with highly perverse imagery, I'm afraid, so those underage or hypersensitive, may read at their own peril!


Bulma smiled and unbuttoned her nightdress, then unhooked her light coral, half-cup bra, tossing both impediments into the laundry hamper, situated in one corner of the room. The Prince roved his calloused hands from her curvaceous hips, up her trim waist and onto her glorious mounds, closing his eyes and sighing, as he cupped them into his palms. The heiress placed her hands behind his own, arching her back and leaning into his blissful touch. Vegeta took her pert, pink nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, deftly kneading them, as she cried out, in joy. One hand travelled towards her centre, but she grabbed it before it landed on its target. The Saiyan growled, in protest.

"You're overdressed, Vegeta." She smirked. "Let me to unburden you."

"Lewd female." He commented.

"Oh, hush you." She drew backwards and slowly took off his pants and underwear, all in one bundle, flinging them into the hamper, thereafter. Her hazy, blue eyes feasted upon his proud phallus, regally upright and just waiting to be ministered, for all it was worth. The heiress gave him a mischievous smirk that made his chest tighten, as a deepened sense of alarm coursed through him.

"W-Woman, wh-what are you-"

Vegeta's tongue tied, as Bulma grabbed his hardened length within her hand and moved her face towards it, placing a prolonged kiss on the wide-open top. The Saiyan's eyes widened, heart cinching up and racing faster than ever before. He threw his head back, arching against her, as she kissed his erect shaft from tip to base, before gliding her hot tongue upwards and taking the entire organ into her mouth, vigorously sucking to and fro, while soothingly massaging his testicles, with her proficient fingers.

"Bulma!" He groaned her name, hardly able to take much more, his mind clouded with a haze of heavenly warmth and no longer in touch with his body. She shivered, as his husky tone reverberated in the heat-beset room. The heiress was effectively able to feel that gratifying timbre of his, vibrate all the way through to his exquisite erection. She thoroughly explored it with every aperture of her hot mouth, licking every patch of skin, with her adroit tongue.

Bulma sighed in appreciation, as a fresh batch of semen made it's way inside her mouth, flowing down her throat and into her chest. His deliciously piquant seed brought to mind, the juicy insides of a sour-sweet granadilla, freshly picked in a balmy, Spring afternoon, with a slight undertone of willow herb and anise. It's raw potency damn near drove her mad.

Feeling his climax about to erupt like a volcano at any moment, the Prince lifted her by the underarms, carrying her lissom frame towards to his upper-half. He brought her face down, smashing his lips to hers and relishing in her perfect, sweetened taste, together with tiny droplets of his own semen. Their tongues continued wrestling, but Bulma reluctantly withdrew, as she hoisted her legs back over him, in order to better her position. Vegeta tensed, growling in protest, but loosened up and sighed euphorically, once she took hold of his stiffness and covered it with her centre. She rode him up and down, maintaining a steady and refined tempo, while he clasped her hips firmly, in order to help her stay balanced.

"Remember- I- cum- first!" Bulma rasped, between pants and graceful, pelvic motions. The Prince grunted affirmatively and matched her movements, as their searing skin slid together, with impassioned ardor. He generously let her determine the pace and responded in kind, as his climax drew closer and closer.

"Wait, I cum first!" The heiress slurred desperately, upon sensing his imminent release. Using every bit of self-control he had left, the Saiyan kept his seminal fluids at bay, refusing to blemish the culmination to the most epic and ravishing tryst, he'd ever undergone. He patiently awaited her climax and once it descended downwards, he instantly fired his own, roaring in jubilance, while she ecstatically screamed his name. Bulma's strength gave out, as their orgasms met one-another and she fell upon his chest almost lifelessly, her petite frame trembling, as countless endorphins swam through her bloodstream. She would definitely struggle to walk in the morning, but this was well beyond worth it, as far as she was concerned. Making love to her robust Saiyan, easily rendered every other moment of carnal activity she'd experienced, null and void. She could feel his dynamic heartbeat and it only made her that much more content.


Vegeta lay motionless in the aftermath of this heavenly bout, occasionally letting out low growls of approval, as he felt his vivacious female's ragged breaths against his chest. He girded his tail around her thigh and wound an arm, around her supple waist. She smiled, moaning in approval and resting a hand on his right pectoral. Several serene moments passed by.

"You know, I've never done that before." Bulma softly confessed.

"Done what, before?" Vegeta asked, frowning curiously, neither party altering their positions.


"Why?" The Prince asked, after a moment's pause.

"Yamcha wouldn't." She replied, frowning. "He was too shy and said that he respected me too much." (A/N: I got this idea from SilverLady7 on DeviantArt).

"Tch, what a moron." Vegeta snorted derisively, irked at the mention of the weakling. "That's to be expected of a coward like him."

"Hey, don't be a jerk." Bulma frowned, reproachfully smacking his chest. "Besides, he wouldn't do it for me, either."

"Enough about that wimp!" The Prince growled.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, your majesty!" The heiress loured.

She still hadn't spoken to her scar-faced ex, all this time. Krillin assured her that he was slowly, but surely, recovering from his loss. He and Yamcha moved to Kame House, along with Puar and would engage one-another in intense spars and exercises, so the latter could use them as a healthy avenue for venting his pains, sorrows and frustrations, rather than turning towards alcohol, drugs and/or wanton females. That was a positive sign, she guessed, plus this way he could at least keep in-tune with his training. But she still wanted to get in touch with him. Whenever Bulma contacted her bald friend and requested that he get Yamcha on the line, her ex vehemently refused to speak with her, even going so far as to say that if she decided to visit Master Roshi, Krillin should tell him in advance, so he could move out, for the duration of her stay. Her heart sank with despair, as she became more and more convinced that their tattered friendship would remain in ruins, never to be rejuvenated, ever again.

Vegeta immediately sensed the stress and tension, effusing from her in palpable waves. His lips curled, in exasperation. He couldn't possibly get a moment's rest like this, but he didn't want to voice his objections, lest he appear weak or even worse, concerned. Dammit, he put far too much stake in this little female's wellbeing, but then again, she had rightfully pointed out that that was the primary success factor, in his ascension. Maybe caring for another wasn't quite as bad as he'd always been led to believe.

"Vegeta?" She hacked through his musings.


"Do you think I'm a bad person?"

The Prince narrowed his eyes, wondering where on Earth that came from.

"Tch, bad?!" He seethed, clenching his teeth, as his muscles went taut, with derision. "What the Saiyans did was bad! Everything I've been doing since the age of five, is bad! What that bastard Frieza did to you, Gohan and the Namekian kid, was bad! Even if you tried, you couldn't come anywhere close to meeting the requirements!"

Bulma remained unresponsive, for a while.

"You're wrong, you know." She stated.

"About what?"

"About what you said." The heiress replied. She knew he was the last person who'd perk his ears up, when it came to discussing her troubles with Yamcha, thus she opted to avoid that subject altogether. Maybe he couldn't heal her inner wounds, but that didn't mean she couldn't heal his. "Not everything you've done is bad. Was sparing Earth, a bad thing? Was protecting me, a bad thing? Was saving Gohan and the others, bad? Was getting rid of Frieza and his soldiers, bad?"

"You- you talk too much!"

"All I'm saying is that you don't give yourself enough credit." She sighed sombrely, resting her chin on his sternum and gravely looked him in the eye. "I'm not trying to whitewash your past or anything, but what's done is done. You have your whole life ahead of you and- you- well, you have me."

"Tch, whatever." He scowled. "Now will you shut up and let me sleep?"

"Goodnight, jerk." She smiled and kissed his lips, before wrapping a sheet over their naked figures and nuzzling into his chest, letting his musky scent induce her into a reposing slumber, the very best she'd had, in months.

The Prince stayed awake for a while, pondering. He neither understood nor cared for that frivolous 'love' concept, but he still felt an undying connection with this silly female, which only deepened, as the days rolled by. She'd become a polarized figure of sorts, in that she was the primary facet behind both his weakness and his strength, with the two ends drifting further and further apart, the more their bond developed. But it was too late to turn back now. The moment his hellish soul had tasted an ambrosial slice of heaven, on Namek, he unwittingly ventured down a road he could never escape from. She had him trapped and there was nothing he could do, but travel on and on, down the ceaseless, entrancing path.

After finishing Frieza, he could've gone anywhere and not a single being could oppose his gargantuan might, yet he chose to go to her. Sure, he sought her assistance in supplying him with the necessary tools to accelerate his power, but there was a deeper reason behind his decision that he'd come to realize when amidst the chilling, merciless wastelands of Kizdar: he'd grown fond of her. As he wandered across endless miles of snow, he didn't think about the void he could've filled by claiming Frieza's cosmic empire, nor the strength he could've gained by training under high levels of gravity. No, the only thing that captivated his incoherent mind was the female's limitless pools of everlasting sapphire, her soft skin and flesh, the myriad of silky blue fibres on her head, her gentle voice and her sweet scent. Were it not for her, he would've likely collapsed within a few days, yet he meandered half-way across that ball of ice, for weeks on end.

Perhaps she was right and it was best for him to just let things be. He was still the Prince of all Saiyans and his first order of business was reacquiring his legendary powers. But for now, it was time to rest. That in mind, he wound both arms around Bulma's svelte waistline and tranquilly, dozed off.

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