Adult-FanFiction.org : Gundam, Beyblade, DBZ, FMA

Friends	By : ladyvegeets Category: Dragon Ball Z > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2134 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Obviously I don’t own DBZ or the characters - they belong to Akira Toriyama, Funimation and Toei Animation as far as I know. No profit is being made from this fic.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
(This is the UNCENSORED version. For the less explicit version, please go to FFnet)

Friends - an AU Vegebul Highschool Fanfic by LadyVegeets
Ch.19 - Hard Up

As Bulma predicted, the following few days were torturous. Now that Vegeta had made the decision to disregard his father’s advice, he was a lot more obvious about his desires - he would stare at her for a long time with hard, predatory eyes and a knowing smirk that had her heart racing, and if she tried to guess what he was thinking about it only made her blush. He liked to surprise her, sneaking up on her like a cat toying with a mouse and breathe on the back of her neck, his large, warm hands wrapping around her waist, trapping her, making her shiver in delight.
“How do you feel?” he’d purr against her nape.
“Fine, more than fine,” she’d insist, leaning into him, but he’d nuzzle a bruise and despite her best efforts to ignore the pain, he could feel her flinch and he’d pull away; no amount of whining or foot stomping on her part would convince him to continue. The doctor had said she wasn’t to be over exerted, and Vegeta was abiding by that law. Bulma was starting to loath that doctor and his damned advice with a growing passion.
Bulma also noticed people at school were acting differently towards her, specifically the male students. From her peripheral vision she saw that she was getting a lot more attention than usual, but when she glanced their way the boys would flee as if Hell itself would open up its yawning mouth and swallow them up. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why they ran - her and Vegeta were the hot new couple everyone talked about, and no one wanted to piss off Vegeta, the scariest guy in school, by being mistakenly seen as flirting with his girl. She was especially pleased when she saw the two guys who had harassed her at the sports shed nearly trip over themselves to get out of her way.
But what didn’t please her was seeing what their new found fame was doing for Vegeta. Whether he was being seen as more approachable now that he had a ‘girlfriend’, or because he was dressing nicer, Vegeta was garnering far more female attention than both he and Bulma would have liked. Bulma would have been jealous if not for the amusing way Vegeta got so worked up by the unwanted attention, snarling and snapping in irritation until she laughed and then he’d shout at her or sulk petulantly.
She found him again in just such a predicament as she came down the school hallway to meet him after class. He was waiting for her in his usual place, his brows pulled down into a familiar annoyed look as some nameless girl fawned over him in an attempt to flirt. Bulma heard him as she got nearer to them.
“Beat it, you’re in my space,” he snapped, being as nice as he could be when aggravated. But the clueless girl just tittered as if he’d told a joke, not taking his threat seriously. Vegeta started to sneer in irritation when he caught her movement and looked up, seeing Bulma approach. The relieved look that washed over his face made her smile, and she felt compelled to deepen the swing in her hips as she reached him.
“Vegeta,” she greeted, emphasizing the familiarity of his name, wrapping her arms around Vegeta’s neck and kissing him as if the other girl right in front of them were of no consequence.
Vegeta’s eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by her brashness, but a heartbeat later he caught on and wrapped his arms around her and turned her about, crushing Bulma against the wall to return the kiss. Bulma heard the other girl make a disgusted sound and stomp away on her heels.
“Later, bitch,” Bulma whispered after her, gloating, curling her fingers about Vegeta possessively.
Vegeta chuckled, still nibbling at her lips. “You’re devious,” he growled, his eyes sparking with dark amusement, liking Bulma’s fiendish edge.
Bulma tried to pull Vegeta in for more kissing, but he resisted, his eyes stopping her. “Not here,” he said, although his body seemed to have other ideas, still pressing into her intimately, his hands crushing her against the wall. “Not yet, not until you’re healed.”
Bulma wanted to throw a fit in frustration. What good was it to belong to Vegeta when she couldn’t even have him? He was everywhere, morning, day and night, looking powerful, sinful, teasing her with what she still couldn’t have, still unreachable. She was growing increasingly agitated, the slightest look, kiss or touch from him would send ripples of anticipation through her, but without any relief, she was starting to lose her mind and her patience.
She had to break him, one way or another, because she was on the verge of breaking herself, she’d already waited weeks for him, she was damned if she was going to wait a few more days for some stupid bruises to heal. Forming an idea, Bulma took a change of clothes with her to school the following day. Before the lunch bell rang, she ducked out of class early and hurried to change into a tight white crop top that showed off her midriff, and a short skirt that showed off her legs. She powered her skin to try and make her bruises appear more faded, and spritzed on some perfume to mask the scent of the powder.
She waited for Vegeta at his locker, the cold metal making her skin prickle and her nipples tighten under her thin white shirt. She arched her back and bit her lip suggestively. When Vegeta strolled over he barely looked at her, coming to stand right in front of her as if she weren’t block his way. He reached above her head to get to his locker, stretching his perfect body in front of her as he put his books away. He then slammed the locker shut, keeping his arms braced above her head, his powerful body arched over hers. He smirked down at her; he knew what she was trying to do, and he wasn’t going to play her game. Bulma blushed and coyly reached out to play with his belt. “Hey~.”
Vegeta leaned in and nuzzled her temple. “You’re wearing perfume,” he commented.
Bulma nodded, toying with his buckle.
Vegeta continued to nuzzle her. “I don’t like perfume.”
“Oh,” she said, feeling a flicker of disappointment.
He smirked against her. “I prefer the natural way you smell. It’s easier to tell when you’re hard up for it.”
Bulma blushed bright red as Vegeta pulled away, giving her a cocky smile. He turned and walked off, leaving her aching and cursing him and herself for her stupid plan. When she got home she threw out all her perfume and went to take a very cold shower, trying not to think of Vegeta scenting her like some animal in heat.

~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~

When the weekend rolled around, she’d run out of patience and was sick of cold showers. Bulma was past playing fair. “Let’s go see a movie,” she suggested.
“No.”
“Vegeta, you promised you’d do fun things with me.”
“No, you asked me to promise. I never agreed.”
“Fine, I’ll go by myself!” Bulma shouted and stomped off, leaving behind a rather bewildered Vegeta. Their argument had been unusually brief. Bulma was done with words, she was all about action.
Twenty minutes later she sashayed into the gym where Vegeta was training. He’d already worked up a sweat and was currently running on a treadmill in only a pair of shorts, the rest of his lean, muscular body on full display, glistening and moving with the elegant, athletic ease of a large cat. Bulma let her eyes wander over him appreciatively before she made an announcement. “I called a cab, it’ll be here in fifteen minutes if you change your mind.”
“Why would I change my-” Vegeta stopped short when he looked up to see Bulma leaning against the table by the vending machine. She was wearing the shortest skirt she owned and a top so thin it was see-through. She’d shaved, moisturized, primped, put on make up and jewelry, the whole works. She looked fantastic, and she knew it.
And she was going to go outside, all by her lonesome, in an outfit that screamed ‘fuck me’.
Vegeta was struggling to take in the sight of her and the implications of Bulma wandering around town looking as she did without a guardian. He almost tripped on the treadmill.
She looked up at him from under half lidded eyes. “I’d really like it if you came,” she purred, her choice of words very intentional.
Vegeta growled and stopped the machine, grabbing his towel to wipe the sweat from his brow as he abandoned his work out. He didn’t say a word to her as he stomped by to use the showers. Bulma smiled in satisfaction.
Fifteen minutes later, a cleaned, dressed and surly Vegeta got into the taxi with her, and they headed towards the local cinema. He still didn’t speak to her in the car ride over.
“What movie do you want to see?” Bulma asked after they arrived, slipping her hands around his arm, staring up at the film titles.
“You don’t even know?” he asked, incredulous, but he wasn’t looking at her, too busy glaring at anyone who came within 15 feet of them, daring anyone to look at Bulma for too long and see what it cost them.
Bulma stepped around him to catch his eye and smiled. “I just wanted to see something with you. Why don’t you pick?”
He looked down at her from the corner of his eye, his entire body radiating displeasure. “Fine, whatever. That one,” he said, pointing at a poster. Bulma nodded and let his arm go to get two tickets. Vegeta didn’t let her go far alone, sidling right up behind her in the line, her silent, sullen bodyguard. When they had their tickets, Vegeta grabbed her wrist and pulled her directly towards their theater room.
“What about popcorn and-?” she started to protest.
“No,” he cut her off flatly, and that was that. He pulled her all the way up to the back of the cinema, then proceeded to glare at anyone who tried to sit anywhere close to them. Luckily, not too many people appeared interested in the film, so by the time the previews started they had the back rows to themselves, with only a few other guests scattered about the front of the theater. Vegeta was sitting tensely next to her, still looking upset. Bulma had hoped he might have settled down by now; it wouldn’t be much of a date if he was going to grump the whole way through it.
His arm was leaning on the arm rest between them, so Bulma tried putting her hand over his. She felt him tense under her touch, and it made her mouth turn down, hurt and agitated that he was being such a dick about her interrupting his workout. “You know, you could try to enjoy yourself,” she whispered to him, pulling her hand back.
“I’m thinking,” he replied testily, glaring at the screen in a way that told Bulma he wasn’t paying the preview any attention.
“What of?” she asked.
“A suitable way to punish you.”
Bulma’s eyes went round as she looked at him, feeling her heart flutter nervously. “Wh-what?”
Vegeta turned and fixed her with a hard stare, his mouth set in a hard line. “Despite what the doctor said about taking it easy, and despite what I’ve told you about being patient, you’ve still been running around like a bitch in heat all week. And now you’re trying to manipulate me by wearing that, and you don’t expect me to be pissed?”
Bulma pouted and looked away. Vegeta was taking all the fun out of her scheme and making her feel childish for it. “I was just trying to be…”
“What?” he snapped.
She looked away, humiliated. “Sexy.”
“Tch. Idiot.”
His insult stung. “You don’t have to be a jerk about it!” Bulma snapped fiercely, and a few heads in the cinema turned at her raised voice. Bulma gave them a confrontational ‘what-of-it’ look and hand gesture, and they looked away. Bulma glanced down at her lap, embarrassed at herself and furious at Vegeta, her confidence shattered.
She heard him sigh. “Bulma.”
“What?” she snapped morosely.
“You’re an idiot because you don’t have to do all this to look appealing to me. Do you honestly think there’s not a day goes by I don’t think about fucking you?”
“Oh wow, charming,” she replied caustically, too upset to take his vulgar words as anything but an offence.
He sighed, pressing a hand to his brow as if in pain. “Jesus, I can’t win with you.”
They sat in agitated silence as the movie started. Bulma didn’t know what to think, she hated this stalemate with Vegeta. She didn’t want to be mad at him, and she definitely didn’t want him to be mad at her, but she had no idea how to make amends, especially in the silence of the movie. After a few minutes, Bulma felt her purse buzz. She pulled it out and saw that the message was from him.
I didn’t mean it like that. I just can’t be eloquent right now when you’re sitting in front of me in that outfit.
Bulma looked at Vegeta who had his phone in his lap. He was typing another message, and she saw it pop up on her screen a moment later.
You look beautiful. Bulma pursed her lips, feeling herself soften at the compliment. Another message soon followed. It’s driving me -insane-. How the fuck am I supposed to take your doctor’s advice when you’re wearing that?
She caved and a ghost of a smile curled her lips. The thought of driving Vegeta insane because of her beauty was pretty damn flattering, and she had to admit, she was a sucker for flattery. Bulma typed a reply.
I never said you should. Why do you think I’ve been acting like ‘a bitch in heat’, huh? [Winky face]
His reply came quickly. …I don’t want to hurt you.
His message struck a chord. Bulma hadn’t really considered it that way before, that he was obeying the doctor’s rules because he was worried he’d cause her pain if he tried anything too soon. Man, she was an idiot.
You won’t hurt me, she reassured him with a little love heart emoji.
Don’t be so sure. I can’t even look at you right now without wanting to shove you over something and ravish you into next week, and trust me, it wouldn’t be gentle.
Bulma’s heart started beating harder, his words sending a thrill of excitement through her. She cast him a subtle sidelong look, his profile highlighted by the glow of the movie. He was painfully handsome, hard lines and swelling muscles and underneath it all, a heat, a burning fire of strength and pride and right now, hunger, a hunger for her. His eyes flicked up and caught her peeking. His mouth hooked up in the hint of a smile.
Bulma looked back at her phone, blushing hard. In that case, it’s probably a good thing you don’t know what I’m wearing underneath this outfit. [Mischievous smiley face]
After reading her message, she felt him glance at her again, but she pretended not to notice. Oh? He texted back.
Bulma smirked as she sent her reply. Absolutely nothing. She didn’t add any emojis, she didn’t feel like she needed to.
Vegeta checked his phone and choked audibly when he read her message. It took him a minute to compose himself before he typed back, I don’t believe you.
Bulma smirked. [Devil face] Wanna bet?
Vegeta flipped up the armrest between them and was on her in the next instant, clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle her surprised outcry. Her hands instinctively went to his chest, her fingers curling in his shirt, and she leaned up into the burning heat of his body that sheltered her against the cool air-conditioned air of the theater. He leaned into her, crushing her into the seat and he pressed his brow against hers, staring at her as she lay helpless beneath him, the wicked fire in his eyes illuminated by the blue gleam of the movie screen.
“You enjoy playing dangerously, don’t you?” he purred, his voice deep and low, vibrating against her, barely audible against the movie’s audio, but fully felt. It made her shiver in delight, made her want to rub herself against him, basking in the sound of his animalistic tone. She couldn’t reply, his hand smothering her, so she did the next best thing. She licked his palm.
Vegeta’s lips peeled back in a sneer, revealing his sharp incisors. He pressed himself harder against her in retaliation, the weight of him pinning her, and it sparked her lust, making her wish they were somewhere where clothing wasn’t a necessity so she could feel every inch of him against her. Vegeta slid his face down to nuzzle her face, his lips tickling over her ear. “I was going to let it go, but I think after that, you still deserve your punishment.”
Bulma stiffened, her eyes darting to his uncertainly. He looked at her, grinning, before dipping his head to nuzzle her throat, his tongue darting out to taste her pulse which had skyrocketed. Suddenly he tightened his hold on her and his mouth latched about her tender neck. He sucked hard, almost painfully. Bulma squealed and squirmed helplessly beneath him, trying to shove him off as he bit into her, her cries muffled by his hand. She writhed pitifully, but it felt as though her energy were being sapped, her outrage at his mauling her was quickly, rapidly turning to something darker and more needy. He suckled her throat, and she found herself mewling pitifully under his domineering gesture, panting as she wished he’d do more, take more, bite and suck his way all over her.
Feeling her give in beneath him, Vegeta allowed his hand to slip from her mouth and trail down until he found her bare knee. He let his fingers wander up, pressing into her soft thigh before trailing up, moving higher and higher until he slipped his hand under her skirt. Bulma gasped and arched against him as Vegeta learned the truth of her text message.
“You little minx,” he growled against her tender flesh as his fingers brushed against her, panty-less, and they both learned how wet she was. She moaned, bucking against his hand, her whole body on fire, trembling with days, weeks of pent up lust bursting to be satiated. Ever since he’d kissed her that first time on her couch months ago, and perhaps even before that, she’d wanted him, she’d wanted his strong body over hers and his hands touching her as they were now. How many times had she dreamed about this, daydreamed about it, guiltily found her mind wandering when she was in the shower, or half asleep in bed at night with her hand wandering down between her thighs. And now, finally, at last, it was a reality, and it wasn’t her hand between her legs now.
When he finally pulled away from her throat with a wet smacking sound she had completely succumbed to him, the hands she had once tried to shove him away with were now curled around him, holding him close, begging for more. She realized she was trembling when he leaned back, giving her his wickedest smile yet. “Don’t stop,” she begged, fearing he was pulling back to once again call an end to things.
“Shhh,” he whispered softly. “We don’t need an audience. You have to keep quiet, or I will stop.” He punctuated his statement by pushing a finger inside her.

Bulma sucked in a sobbing breath as she felt it slip in, long and thick. Her hands tugged at his shirt, silently pleading for him to come closer, for more, for him. He leaned in, grabbing the back of her neck with his other hand and he hungrily kissed her mouth, hushing her moans with his tongue. She was overcome, losing herself between his hot kisses and his intimate petting. He started pushing in and out of her with long, slow strokes. She had to break their kiss to bury her face in his shoulder, trying to muffle her helpless cries as he undid her from the inside out, leaving her quivering, her insides loosening, desperate for more. He nuzzled her ear, purring with encouragement. “Just think, at any minute one of these people could look over and see me finger-fucking you.”
Bulma whimpered pitifully and clung to Vegeta, trying to use him both as a shield and a means to reach her ending. She was trembling, falling to pieces, losing herself to him. One finger soon became two as Vegeta added another and wickedly stretched her open.
“O-oh god,” she keened, rocking her hips against his hand.
Vegeta chuckled cruelly in her ear. “You’ve got a lot more to go before you can handle all of me.”
“Vegeta, please,” she begged, gasping against his ear, riding his hand as she felt her pleasure build greater and greater.
He made a sound like a growl, his grip tightening on her. “Say my name again,” he said, his voice dark and possessive.
“Vegeta,” she whispered, happy to oblige his request, his name a prayer that easily fell from her lips, the word a desperate plea for release. His fingers started moving faster, and he slid his hand down to grab her hip, tilting her up and spreading her open. Bulma blushed as he easily manhandled her, but she was far too gone in pleasure to care if anyone saw. His fingers rubbed inside her deeply and the most incredible pressure was building insider her, burning, consuming, swelling. She could feel the end rushing towards her, and she clung to him, sobbing his name over and over along with mindless, whispered pleas.
When he brought his slicked thumb up to tease her clit it undid her; she arched up, clenching about him as she came, shattering in ecstasy. He kissed her hard, drinking up her whimpered cries, letting her ride out her wave of pleasure with his fingers still pushed inside of her, eeking out the last of her pleasure.

She shuddered, trembling, completely overwrought as she slowly, ever so slowly came down from her high. Vegeta kissed her cheek as she struggled to catch her breath, her hands still tangled up in his clothing. She couldn’t remember ever having come so intensely before. As her pleasure washed away, she started to feel embarrassment creep up, remembering where they were and what they’d just done in a public venue no less. Vegeta’s fingers were still inside of her, and she reached down to touch his wrist, silently telling him to pull out. He obliged, pulling out of her wet center and she trembled as he left, leaving her feeling empty. He wiped his hand on her thigh. She shot him an irritated look. He smirked at her.
“Feeling better?” he asked playfully. Bulma was flushed and she glanced around, worried they had attracted attention but no one was staring, the loud action movie on the screen having masked any sounds she might have let slip.
Bulma gently pushed him off her and tried to shimmy her skirt down over her thighs. She needed to clean up. She grabbed her purse. “I’m going to the bathroom,” she whispered. Before she could stand, Vegeta grabbed her wrist, and she looked at him. His eyes searched hers.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice too quiet to be sure of his tone.
Bulma smiled softly and leaned in, kissing his lips. He kissed her back hesitantly, his eyes still looking at her, searching for an answer. “No, quite the opposite,” she said against his mouth.
He huffed but seemed satisfied, and let her wrist go. Bulma left without another word, sneaking out of the theater on legs that were still a little weak, her cheeks still feeling hot as she played over in her mind what had just happened. Vegeta had just gotten her off in the back of a movie theater. It hadn’t been what she had in mind when she’d invited him out, but she supposed she couldn’t argue the results.
Not until she got to the bathroom that was. After using the bathroom facilities, Bulma looked at herself in the mirror and reeled back in horror when she saw what he’d done to her throat. Vegeta had given her the biggest hickey of her life, her ‘punishment’, and it was getting worse by the second, turing a dark purply-red on her neck, with her helpless to conceal it in any way, and after her other bruises had already mostly healed too. “I’m going to murder him,” she grumbled to her reflection, her pale fingers trailing over the dark mark.
Irritated, Bulma stomped out of the bathroom to find Vegeta waiting for her, leaning against the opposite wall, his arms folded casually in front of his chest. He smirked at her as she came out, his eyes instantly going to her throat, admiring his handiwork, his eyes dancing with possessive amusement.
“What are you doing here?” she asked hotly.
“That movie blew. It couldn’t seem to hold my attention. Let’s go somewhere else.”
“Where?” she asked, pointing at her throat accusingly. “I can’t go out with this, you jerk!”
Vegeta pushed off the wall and closed the gap between them. He reached out, taking her neck in his hand and running his thumb over her hickey; it was an incredibly possessive gesture, but what was worse was how easily she acquiesced to it, making her blush, as annoyed with herself as she was with him. “Looks good to me,” he said, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. “You seemed fine showing off your other bruises, what’s one more?”
“This is very obviously not just a ‘bruise’,” Bulma grouched.
Vegeta smirked, knowing she was right and showing very little shame about it. “Well, if you’re going to be prancing about in this outfit, then everyone should know you’ve already been claimed.”
Bulma raised her brows. “That’s so primitive. I’m not something to be owned, Vegeta.”
Vegeta stepped in even closer, tugging her in against him by the back of her neck. She could feel the hard press of his body against hers, her own already reacting to the closeness of him. It was like he emitted some drug over her that she couldn’t help responding to, wanting to melt against him like butter.
“I know,” he said, whispering against her lips. “But others don’t. And I’d rather not have to kill a man for sniffing around you.” Bulma pursed her lips, struggling to maintain her scowl. Vegeta smirked, still stroking the hickey on her throat. “Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining when I was ‘claiming’ you.”
Bulma went red and tried to smack him in the shoulder, indignant, but Vegeta grabbed her hand and instead placed it gently on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. Bulma resisted for barely a second before she gave in, winding her hands around his neck and kissing him back. It felt so right, so perfect to have him kissing her, holding her. How had they managed to go for so long without doing so?
“You’d kill a man just for looking at me?” she murmured against his mouth, a little flattered at his overprotectiveness, something dark and primitive stirring in her belly. Vegeta seemed to bring out her more predatory instincts.
“I’d kill a man just for a chance to look at you,” he growled back, squeezing her tighter against him.
Bulma laughed softly, breathlessly. “I’d rather you didn’t. I don’t want to have to wait 25 to life for you to get out of prison.”
Vegeta scoffed. “Like I’d get caught.”
“Oh? Good at murdering people are we?”
“I’m good at a great many things. Especially if it involves my hands,” he smirked at her knowingly.
Bulma had no retort to that, so she closed her eyes and kissed him. They made out for a while until they started getting too many stares from people walking by to use the movie theater’s bathrooms.
“C’mon,” Vegeta said, grabbing her hand and pulling her along. Bulma followed, trying to remember how her legs worked as she stumbled after him. They exited the theater complex and a fresh breeze met them as they stepped into the daylight.
They took a few steps forward when Vegeta suddenly came to a halt. He stopped so abruptly that Bulma walked right into his shoulder. She looked up at him, wondering what the hold up was, but then she saw his expression; it was dark, his body tense, his eyes focused on something up ahead. Bulma turned to see what was causing Vegeta so much concern.
She saw it instantly. A black convertible with tinted windows was parked by the cinema entrance, the top folded down, a tall, handsome young man leaning against the car with a cocky smirk. His hair was long, earrings hanging from his lobes, his face painfully familiar. It was Zarbon, Vegeta’s relative, the one Vegeta had been staying with and who she’d been warned to stay away from and who, apparently, had nearly tried to kill her with his vehicle. The realization turned her blood cold.
Zarbon spotted them and his grin widened. He pushed off the car and came towards them.
“If I tell you to run, you do it and don’t look back,” Vegeta said to her urgently in a low voice. Bulma’s eyes widened and she looked at Vegeta, scared. She started to open her mouth to protest, but he gave her a dark look that stopped her. “I mean it, Bulma. If things get ugly, I can’t be worrying about you getting caught in the crossfire. You fucking run, do you understand?”
She didn’t, but she’d never seen Vegeta so agitated before, so she nodded to appease him. Bulma felt Vegeta’s hand clench around hers. He gently pushed her behind him, positioning himself between her and Zarbon.
Zarbon noticed the protective gesture and flashed them a wolfish smile, amused. “Vegeta never was one for sharing,” Zarbon purred in way of a greeting as he stopped a few paces in front of them, his eyes on Bulma. He dragged his gaze over her, drinking in every delicious inch of her until she shuddered in revolution. Bulma felt utterly violated. She glared at him and stepped closer behind Vegeta’s back for shelter.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Vegeta snapped at him, getting straight to the point.
Zarbon’s eyes left Bulma and he smirked at Vegeta. “It’s a free country, isn’t it?” Vegeta said nothing, so Zarbon shrugged and continued. “Have you spoken to your coach recently?”
Vegeta scowled, crossing his arms. “What’s it to you?”
Zarbon put a hand to his chest in mock shock. “Why, Vegeta. I’m appalled. We used to be so close.” Zarbon looked back at Bulma. “He’s practically my baby brother,” he said, before looking back at Vegeta. “Well, tournament season is approaching, as you should know, Little Prince, and our schools are going to have a practice session this Friday. Won’t that be fun?” he asked, his smile cruel, his eyes dancing.
Vegeta didn’t say anything, but Bulma saw his left hand was clenched so tightly it shook. Unable to stay silent for long, Bulma blurted out, “Vegeta is the best fighter at our school. I’ve seen him train.”
Zarbon laughed, loudly. Bulma flushed, annoyed at his response. Vegeta didn’t react, letting Zarbon’s laughter wash over him.
“Oh no!” the tall boy said, tears of mirth still in his eyes. “And here I thought I might be presented with a challenge, but if Vegeta is the best your school has, I’ll barely be in for a warm-up.”
Bulma scowled at him. “You’re awfully rude and presumptuous.”
“Bulma.” Vegeta’s tone was soft but chiding. She shut her mouth and looked away, though she had a few more choice words she’d have liked to have used.
Zarbon continued to smirk at them, his eyes watching their interactions with great interest. “Well, well, Vegeta, it seems you’ve trained her well, haven’t you?” he asked, his tone dripping with insinuations. “I must say I’m surprised, she seems way out of your league if you ask me, and I didn’t take you for the type to be so easily domesticated, little Prince. But I guess money changes even the best of us.”
Vegeta’s jaw clenched tighter with each insult until he’d had enough. “Shut it, Zarbon. Do you want something, or are you just here for your own sick amusement?”
Zarbon laughed merrily. “Why not both? As it happens, I’ve a message from Frieza.” Bulma wouldn’t have believed it unless she saw it with her own eyes; Vegeta actually paled. Zarbon grinned, seeing he had Vegeta’s complete attention. “Frieza says not to forget where your loyalties lie.” Zarbon’s eyes flicked back to Bulma, eating her up with his gaze. “It would be a shame to have to remind you of that.” Bulma felt a cold chill run down her spine. She twisted her fingers in Vegeta’s shirt, clinging to him fearfully. She couldn’t help feeling that Zarbon was using her to threaten Vegeta in some way.
“And why would Frieza be sending you as a messenger boy?” Vegeta sneered back. He grabbed Bulma’s hand and pulled her roughly after him, walking them away. Bulma looked over her shoulder as they left. Zarbon was still standing there watching them, a smirk on his face. He gave Bulma a sly wink, and Bulma felt a sick fear grip her. She whipped her head around and hurried to keep pace with Vegeta.
“What was that about?” she asked him when they were out of earshot, unable to keep a tremor of fear from her voice.
“Later,” he snapped at her. They walked all the way home, Bulma not daring to suggest getting a ride, not wanting to irk Vegeta more than he already was. He was tense, his face grim, and he didn’t say a single word to her the rest of the way home, lost to his own troubled thoughts.

~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~

AN: For those who read the smutty version, I’d love any con-crit you might have, as it’s been a loooong time since I’ve written lemon. Feel free to leave a review or PM me if you have any suggestions so I can keep doing what I’m doing if it’s working for ya, or change/improve for next time ;)
I’m so sorry for my followers about the technical issues with posting the last chapter, it got deleted or magicked away somewhere not long after I first posted it, so I had to resubmit it as soon as I saw the issue. I apologize if you went looking for the chapter and it just wasn’t there, believe me it wasn’t intentional. I’ve no idea what happened, but I’m looking suspiciously at FFnet’s janky servers. Hopefully it was a one time fluke D:
For the Stupidoomdoodle’s/Girl Next Door fans, I’ve put up another chapter on that story too, so check it out if you haven’t already. I may add to it here ’n’ there if I feel inspired/have the time.
I sleep now *collapses in exhaustion*
- 18
- 19
- 20
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Friends