Hot Mess

Note: It's been a very, very long time since I've sat down to write a fanfic. I used to be a fairly regular contributor to FF.net until I lost interest in the site itself, and didn't feel the motivation or desire to post elsewhere. I've lurked around AFF for a couple of years and never posted anything until now, so be gentle! I'm out of practise and my style feels a bit bland to me. But I hope this is nice and lemony for you! Virtually plotless, mostly pointless, but I did have a lot of fun writing it. Vegeta's my *favourite* character from DBZ, so I hope other Vegeta fans get a few kicks from this ;D

I welcome constructive criticism so you'd be doing me a huge favour by leaving a review.

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Hot Mess

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The Sunday paper made a soft thud as it landed on the concrete path beyond the front door of Bulma's home. The sound turned her attention from pruning a neglected rose bush and she removed her gardening gloves to retrieve the rolled up broadsheet. The light pink shorts she wore exposed mud and grass stains on Bulma's long porcelain-white legs while the black tanktop played host to the delicate dew of sweat shimmering on her ample chest. As she entered the house she heard a familiar impudent voice echoing from the hallway. Her eyes rolled at the noise but she tended to it obligingly in the knowledge that any attempt to ignore it would result in the rest of the day being utterly miserable.

"Woman, get here now!" bellowed the voice. Bulma walked calmly and casually, maintaining her composure in anticipation of the verbal altercation that would undoubtedly ensue. She threw the paper into the kitchen but narrowly missed the table and continued into the hallway.

"Yes?" she replied flatly. "What seems to be your problem this morning, your majesty?"

The cold, dark eyes of the Saiyan prince narrowed and his throat elicited a low grumble at her disrespectful, sarcastic tone.

"My problem, baka onna, is that your diminutive human brain clearly hasn't been up to the challenge of washing my attire in a satisfactory manner, thus rendering all my white garments this hideous shade of pink!"

Bulma took a deep breath as she rubbed her temples, stifling her frustration.

"I'm sure you have other white clothes to wear, Vegeta, but in the meantime I can soak out the dye with some bleach. Or, for a change, you could try to fix the situation yourself without having to disturb the peace, but if your diminutive Saiyan monkey brain isn't up to the challenge of such an insultingly simple task then maybe I should take pity on you." Her tone remained flat, but she beamed inwardly at her eloquent jibes.

Vegeta grew angrier at her disrespectful tongue and he took her roughly by the arm. She swore and hissed at his grip and tried to pull herself back.

"I don't need to tell you again what I'll do to that harpy mouth of yours if you can't keep it shut!" Vegeta stared into Bulma's large aquamarine eyes and articulated his words with such venom that he noticed a momentary flash of real fear in his mate's expression. She refused to feel threatened or scared in her own home and pulled harder again to free herself from Vegeta's grasp.

"Go on. Tell me what you'll do," She uttered in a low, implacable tone. Bulma glared back at Vegeta defiantly and fixed herself on his pupils. "Tell me it involves brutalising my pathetic weakling body, or throwing me against a wall, or maybe even cracking my skull against your own fist. Tell me that's what you're going to do."

The pair refused to stop staring each other down, but Vegeta couldn't find anything to say in reponse to Bulma. Deep inside he harboured affection and sentiment for his human mate although, as a proud warrior, he would not reduce himself to Kakarot's level to announce it to all. But, in spite of such suppression, he found it hard to believe that Bulma could imagine him ever being so violent towards her. His threats were habitual, his anger baseless.

"Get out of my sight." He growled as he released Bulma's arm. He turned to ascend the stairs, and slammed their bedroom door forcefully.

Bulma sighed knowing she had done something to upset his feelings. Her gut instinct was telling her to comfort him in any way possible but her better judgement told her to let a few hours elapse before conversing with him again. Vegeta would never admit to his inherent sensitivity, and Bulma knew far better than to make him confront it, and so their strange relationship was a constant game of tug-o-war, each demanding victory over the other but neither letting go to make room for any compromise.

Choosing not to dwell on their encounter, Bulma returned to the front garden. Meanwhile, Vegeta listened out for the sound of the door shutting before leaving the bedroom. This was not defeat or surrender; he simply couldn't stand to spend the rest of the day upstairs. As he was about the close the door, he remembered the ruined clothes and stood still in thought. He flicked his eyes over the washing basket and muttered a string of profanities before taking it down into the kitchen.

The kitchen was as unfamiliar to Vegeta as honour was to Kakarot (or so he thought), and soon he found himself facing a myriad of hurdles in his quest to bleach the clothes. The first was locating the aforementioned bleach. With so many cupboards and drawers to choose from, where was he supposed to look first?

"For pity's sake... how is anybody meant to find anything in this place??" After much swearing Vegeta eventually found a bottle of bleach standing amidst a vast range of polishes and air fresheners. The next problem was figuring out how to unscrew the child-proof cap. The instructions had worn away from age and frequent use, so Vegeta was left only with small, moulded arrows to act as a guide. His legendary Saiyan strength met its match with the cap and Vegeta became ferociously agitated. He absolutely refused to be defeated by a simple plastic device, and so chose to blast it right off the top. He hadn't intended to melt the bottle with the ball of energy he produced from the palm of his hand and he immediately found himself, and the floor, covered in bleach with the most atrocious smell of melted plastic stinking out the kitchen. Vegeta was lucky he hadn't ignited the liquid.

He paused to examine himself and noticed the dark blue t-shirt he was wearing had been turned almost entirely white, except for part of the sleeves and most of the back. His pants were also streaked and spattered with bleach. Vegeta groaned and threw down the melted bottle. He now had to clean up the mess he had made, but that involved locating the mop and bucket. The sheer thought of having to go rummaging for more equipment put him in a foul mood, but he quickly remembered the washing basket full of pink clothes and he threw them all onto the floor to soak up the bleach. Rather pleased with his fast thinking, Vegeta stormed upstairs to take a shower, abandoning the kitchen in its abominable state.

Bulma might have not discovered the monstrosity so soon if it hadn't been for the stench of melted plastic wafting through the garden. Upon entry to the kitchen, she dropped her gardening tools and swore to herself. She had never laid eyes upon such a bombsite in her own home. Was this some sort of joke? Had Vegeta done this deliberately to make her life harder for her? She felt an unhinged fury rising within her and she flew up the stairs to find the Saiyan prince.

Bulma screamed his name as she paced around the landing and the bedrooms but heard nothing in response. She stopped for a moment to calm herself and noticed the faint rush of running water and headed towards the bathroom. She tentatively turned the handle, finding it to be unlocked, and let herself in quietly.

Vegeta was enclosed in the shower cubicle with his back to Bulma, his hands working shampoo through his jet black mane of spiky hair with the suds dribbling down his muscular back. Just for a moment Bulma drifted away from her fury and stood in the doorway watching Vegeta, her eyes transfixed on his physique, feeling an intense magnetism pulling her towards him, but an image of the kitchen drew her attention back to anger.

Bulma smirked as she ran the hot tap of the sink as fast as it would go and clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing out loud at the sight of Vegeta ducking away from the stream of cold water, yelping and cursing. In his second of distress, he turned around and looked out of the glass shower door to see Bulma standing there quaking with bottled laughter.

"ONNA!" He barked as he forcefully slid the door open, the pane rattling in its metal casing. Vegeta wrapped his luscious naked waist in the nearest towel to hand and backed Bulma into a corner, his body only an inch away from her own.

"What is the meaning behind this ludicrous nonesense? What business do you have ruining my shower and invading my privacy?"

Bulma felt her giddy humour evaporate at Vegeta's accusatory, self-important tone. She lowered her hand and prepared herself for yet another verbal altercation. Surely this one couldn't be any more tense than before.

"Excuse me, but has it escaped your attention that my kitchen in my house is now a complete and utter disgrace thanks to you?? You know that after my own errands I would have taken care of the clothes but you just decided to make matters worse by creating yet more work for me! And how dare you be so audacious to talk to me about ludicrous nonesense when you're so infantile that you have to throw your weight around just to soothe your ego! God dammit, Vegeta, every day I wake up and I'm treated instantly as a slave in my own fucking home, and I'm getting just a bit fucking sick and ti-"

Vegeta pressed his hand firmly over Bulma's mouth. "Oh stop squawking for a minute, woman! Your incessant yammering would be enough to drive the rest of your pathetic human race insane. The kitchen is in its current state simply because of an accidental mishap. What does it matter if the clothes are all over the floor? They're ruined anyway!"

Bulma clawed at Vegeta's hand until he removed it from over her mouth. "It matters because it's a deliberate act of spite! I can't believe you would treat me with such animosity!"

"Onna, I did not treat you with any animosity! I merely attempted to rectify the situation whilst you tended to that hideous rose bush you've deluded yourself into thinking will come back to life! You ought to display a bit of gratitude towards my effort or leave me to return to the shower you so despicably interrupted!" Just as Vegeta was turning on his heel to resume his shower Bulma made him stop.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Be grateful? You can't honestly tell me you genuinely tried to sort the clothes, can you?"

Vegeta grunted, his eyes avoiding contant with hers. He wasn't about to admit to an act of kindness, least of all to Bulma. He would never hear the end of it.

Bulma's expression softened and her delicate mouth formed a small smile. "You were being nice."

"Don't be so ridiculous, baka! You should feel honoured I didn't blow the entire kitchen apart! It's the very least you deserve."

But no matter what Vegeta said he couldn't wipe the smile from Bulma's glowing face. "Awwe poor baby messed up trying to be a good boy." Vegeta absolutely hated being cooed at, but it seemed nothing could prevent an assult of skin-crawling cuteness from his fiesty blue haired mate.

"Do not patronise a Saiyan prince, woman." Spat Vegeta.

Bulma stood in front of him and placed her hands around his lean waist, resting her head on his warm wet chest. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do or why she was embracing him, but inside he was thankful that the hostility had abated. Perhaps now he could finally resume his shower.

"Mmm, you smell good." Sighed Bulma as she began to draw with her fingers on Vegeta's moist back.

"I cannot say the same for you, woman. You smell repulsive." Bulma let go of Vegeta and took a step back. Before he hadn't noticed how tiny her shorts really were or how tight her top was, but he was thoroughly enjoying the view now.

"Perhaps I should jump in the shower with you then." Bulma smiled devilishly as she kicked off her shoes and let her hair fall free from a messy ponytail. A small grin started to emerge at the corner of Vegeta's mouth as he watched his mate gently shake her head and run her fingers through her dishevelled hair. His eyes wandered down to her glittering chest and then to her sumptuous thighs, and as he started fantasising about the endless wonders beneath her clothes he felt a heat growing within him.

Bulma saw the twinkle in Vegeta's eyes and began to undress for him. She turned her back on him and carefully pulled the tanktop up over her head, moving her body like a snake. Her delicious breasts were concealed by a tantalising white plunge bra, her cleavage full and appetising. Next to be removed were the tiny pink shorts. She faced Vegeta and ran her fingers down her chest and smooth abdomen to undo the button. The heat emanating within Vegeta was now moving south to his groin, and he grew hard as Bulma teasingly pushed down her shorts to reveal a pair of white French panties. She walked over and turned her back on him again, cleverly undoing the fastening of her bra with one hand. The garment fell to the floor without protest, and she turned around once more and pressed her breasts against Vegeta's chiseled form. Her hands freed his engorged member from the constraint of the towel and she relished the sensation of it pressing against her flesh.

"You can't shower with these on." Breathed Vegeta as he allowed his right hand to go beneath the elastic of Bulma's underwear, his fingers tenderly stroking the hot moisture between her velvety smooth lips. She let a low moan escape as she urged Vegeta to touch her tingling clitoris with the sensuous movement of her slender hips.

Bulma gently grasped Vegeta's hardness and began to stroke it slowly, tracing her nails across the sensitive skin before establishing a more rhythmic pace. She pressed her lips against Vegeta's in a tender kiss until their desire intensified into passion. Their tongues danced and caressed, their nimble fingers explored and teased, their lust consuming them entirely. Bulma encouraged Vegeta to walk backwards towards the shower, never breaking their kiss, and felt his fingers remove her underwear at last.

They stepped beneath the hot spray in unison; Vegeta held Bulma against the shocking cold tiles of the shower cubicle and laid a trail of hot, wet kisses down her neck before taking an erect pink nipple in his mouth and sucking gently and eagerly. Bulma moaned free of inhibition and continued to work her lover's throbbing erection whilst her other hand grasped onto the ebony black hair at the nape of his neck.

Bulma needed more than Vegeta's fingers to soothe and satisfy the ecstatic ache deep within her pussy and aimed to guide his hardness towards her. She was desperate for him to be inside her. "Vegeta, o-oh, I want you, I need it right now... oh Kami..."

The Saiyan prince groaned into the crook of Bulma's neck as he brought his hips forward obediently to give his woman the pleasure she was so thirsty for. He raised her in his powerful arms and penetrated her expectant pussy with his member and felt himself grow even hotter and harder at the sound of her breathy moans. He held her firmly as he moved her magnificent, curvaceous body up and down the full length of his shaft, slowly and steadily, allowing them both the opportunity to savour their rapturous fusion.

"Ohh... oh yeah, just like that... oh Vegeta..."

"Is that how my woman likes it? Oh..."

Bulma moaned softly next to Vegeta's ear as she nibbled and kissed the lobe which sent electrifying goose bumps up his neck, down his arms and across his chest. He chuckled lightly at the sensation and increased his pace, delving further into Bulma's tight, warm pussy, hitting all the right spots. Her moans grew louder and her impatience grew stronger.

"Give it to me harder," Whispered Bulma. "Oh God, harder..."

Vegeta stopped and instructed Bulma turn her back to him and lean forward against the wall. As he parted her legs he took advantage of her exposed pussy and played with the juicy softness of her lips and inner folds with his fingers. He reached around to rub her clit steadily in circles and smiled at the sound of her delirious whimpers. Unexpectedly, he entered her from behind and began to thrust hard into her pussy, ever continuing to apply his divine ministrations to her clit.

"Oh God, oh God... ohhh fuck, Vegeta... it feels so good..."

Taking Bulma from behind was certainly Vegeta's favourite position; not simply because of her submissive role, but because of the view it offered. The countours of her back were too beautiful for words, and even the elegantly pronounce ridges of her spine were incredibly arousing to the Saiyan prince. Regardless of all the arguments they had and the unpredictability of their turbulent relationship, he was fully aware of how much he adored Bulma, and, for him, his sheer lust was proof of how much he worshipped her. He felt inextricably linked to her in a way he couldn't fully fathom or understand, and during their love making he was always filled with an incomprehensible sense of wonderment. The sensation surged through him, feeding his passion, and so he quickened his pace to give Bulma exactly what she wanted.

She cried out in bliss and soon began to call out Vegeta's name. He could sense the urgency burning within her and decided to let Bulma take control of her climax; knowing she was touching herself drove him wild. His fingers were replaced with her own, deftly manipulating the bud of nerves in an expert fashion.

Vegeta pounded hard into Bulma's quivering pussy and found himself coming close to his own release.

"Ohhh woman... fuck, oh... come for me, Bulma." Growled Vegeta as he held on firmly to Bulma's hips, tilting his head back into the hot stream of water, his eyes shut tightly as he grit his teeth.

Bulma was more than happy to obey Vegeta's command and clenched her pussy tight around his manhood in preparation for her release. Her clit became more and more sensitive as her orgasm grew closer, and her fingers worked hard to keep up the rhythm she needed.

"Vegeta! Oh Kami, Vegeta, fuck me hard! Harder! Ohhh!" Bulma screamed as she felt the intoxicating mercy of her orgasm reverberate from deep within her core, the clenched muscles of her pussy relaxing and contracting, her clit throbbing beneath her fingers. Vegeta rode the shockwaves of Bulma's orgasm for a few moments until he roared in ecstasy and came inside her.

Together they remained motionless, breathless, relieved, and exhausted. Vegeta felt behind him for the dial of the shower and turned off the water. He wanted to stay inside Bulma for as long as possible but assumed her back must have been aching by now from the position she had sustained. The waves of Bulma's climax were now gentle undulations, her muscles almost spent of their pent up energy.

Vegeta slowly withdrew himself from Bulma's pussy and helped her upright. As she turned to face him Vegeta captured her lips in a soft, comforting kiss. He held her hand as she stepped out of the shower and wrapped her in a large bath towel before retrieving one of his own. Vegeta gathered his tired mate in his arms and took her to their bedroom, placing her gently on the bed and then settling down beside her.

There was a look of true harmony on Bulma's face; she smiled as she closed her eyes, bathing in the afterglow of their fiery love making.

"Don't fall asleep yet." requested Vegeta gently.

Bulma yawned and sighed with contentment. "Why?"

"We never actually cleaned you up. You'll have to go for a proper shower later, but at least you don't smell too bad now." Chortled the dark prince.

Bulma giggled and moved closer to Vegeta, nestling close to his smooth, sculpted chest. She murmured an almost indistinguishable 'I love you' and let her heavy eyelids close for a second time. Vegeta also felt his eyes grow heavy and was tempted to drift off into sleep until he breathed in his mate's scent.

"I'm wrong. You still smell repulsive."



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Hope that delivered the goods ;O
Please R&R - I'd really appreciate it ^_^