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“Vegeta, cut it out,” Bulma grumbles, half asleep.
She is fucking exhausted. Trunks has been sleeping horribly for the past two weeks. It’s not like she can blame him; she is having nightmares of her own as well. The family patriarch turning more homicidal than usual has that effect on people.
“Vegeta, I’m fucking serious. Stop touching my leg.” Bulma rolls over, about ready to slap her husband across the face for waking her up.
But why does his hand (or foot or whatever he is rubbing her thigh with) feel so furry?
Groggily, Bulma reaches under the sheets. When her hand closes around a thick tube of fur, she lets out a blood-curdling scream. Which is promptly followed by a howl of pain from Vegeta, who flies out of the bed like he had been electrocuted.
Completely naked, Vegeta stands on the side of the bed, his tail swishing an angry pattern behind him.
His tail.
His. TAIL.
“Vegeta! What the fuck is that?” Her mind races. Is this some kind of side-effect from his Majin possession? What if he transformed? Is there a full moon outside?
Not bothering to actually check, Bulma jumps up and shuts the curtains.
Vegeta runs his fingers through the thick fur, his brow furrowed.
“My tail grew back,” Vegeta says, confusion draining his voice of any emotion.
“Yeah, I see that. Why?”
“How should I know, woman?” Vegeta sits on the side of the bed, his tail in his hands. He’s stroking it like it’s some lost pet that found its way back after going missing for a year.
Bulma can’t help but move away from him. It’s making her incredibly nervous. “Is it the Majin?”
The unbridled worry in Bulma’s voice is enough to drag Vegeta’s gaze away from his tail. “I’m not possessed,” he grinds out in his own, angry-sounding attempt at being reassuring. “It must be the new body.”
Bulma considers this. He’s probably correct, but she isn’t about to risk her life over an untested theory. She glances at the clock. It’s almost sunrise, so she won’t have to worry about him turning into a giant monkey for too much longer.
“What?” Vegeta asks, registering the confusion on her face.
“I think we should have my parents and Trunks leave the house for the day. Just in case.”
“In case of what? My tail isn’t sentient.”
“In case it has to do with the Majin, Vegeta.” She looks guiltily at the floor.
There’s a rift in her trust in him. She’s told him that she forgives him, that she knows he’s changed. He helped save the planet, for fuck’s sake. But Vegeta still sees the way she looks at him like he might snap at any moment and turn back into the monster that killed a stadium of innocent people.
“I let Babidi in, Bulma. I knew what I was doing. I would never let that happen again.” He pauses. “But if you need to have the boy go somewhere until you are sure, I suppose I understand.”
Bulma smiles at him, but it’s strained. “Can you go down to my lab? I don’t want Trunks to see you and be scared.”
“I think you are severely underestimating the boy if you think he’s going to be scared of a tail.”
“And I think you’re willfully ignorant if you don’t recognize why our son might be scared of
you.
”
That cuts deeper than she intended, but she isn’t going to take it back. It is the truth.
Vegeta grabs a pair of shorts from the dresser. For a moment, he looks at them questioningly before singeing a hole in them with his ki. Awkwardly, he pulls them on, wrestling his tail into the uneven alteration. As he exits the room, his tail tucks around his waist.
—
Bulma makes Vegeta wait alone for a while. He can entertain himself while she sorts through her thoughts. Plus, she doesn’t want to wake up her family at the ass-crack of dawn to suggest they go take a day trip. Eventually, she gets them out of the house with the promise of lots of ice cream for Trunks, and she ignores the confused looks from her parents. Why wouldn’t she send them to get dessert at 8 AM? She’s acting totally normal when she practically shoves them out the door.
When she enters her basement lab, he’s sitting on the stool at her desk. His tail flicks side-to-side. At least this new appendage can clue her into his emotions.
“You do know that I can control my transformation?” he snaps, his narrowed eyes following her as she sits on the opposite side of the room. “I’m not some weakling like Kakarot. Even if I somehow managed to accidentally transform, it would not be an uncontrollable rampage.”
Bulma considers for a moment. He’s told her that before. But all she can remember is being locked in that tiny glass room with Goku when he transformed. That’s not a situation she would be willing to relive in any circumstance.
“How do you know that you still can? If your tail grew back because you have a new body, how do you know that you will have control?”
His tail flicks again. There’s something about him having his tail that she didn’t notice before. Not something physical, but just the way he carries himself. He just seems…whole.
“If you want me to remove it I will. But there’s no guarantee it won’t just grow back.” His hand wraps around the base of it. Now she feels guilty.
“No,” she says gently, crossing the room. She rests her hand on his shoulder. “Let me just think for a minute.”
Vegeta drops his tail before curling it protectively around his waist again.
“I have lived without it for almost a decade. It would be inconsequential to just remove it again.” His gaze is downcast.
Slowly, as if trying not to startle a feral creature, Bulma traces her hand down his torso, stopping mere centimeters before his tail.
“Is it sensitive?” she asks. Goku’s was, but, as Vegeta said, he has more discipline and more control. She wonders if it’s simply because Vegeta is better at accepting the pain.
“Yes,” he says. He meets her eye, and she’s not sure what his look conveys.
Honestly, she doubts he knows what he wants. The tip of her finger ghosts across the fur, exerting just enough pressure that she can feel the vertebrae. Vegeta hisses.
“Does that hurt?” she asks gently, resting her hand on his stomach.
“The opposite.”
Bulma smirks. It was
that
kind of noise. Ever so gently, she collects his tail in her palm, letting it flow through her fingers like water. It’s surprisingly soft. Vegeta’s mouth hangs open.
“Bulma,” he cautions.
She’s torn. The devil on her shoulder wants to swipe everything off her desk and fuck her husband right here and now. The rational part of her, the part that’s a scientist and a mother to a traumatized little boy, reminds her that this is
dangerous.
And then some third, irrational part of herself wonders if this is an effect of possession– will that horrible M return to his forehead?
“We need to figure out if you can still control it,” she says. The rational side wins.
She pulls a notebook out of the drawer, flipping through sketch after sketch. After consulting a calendar, she thinks she has a plan.
“You know the ki cuffs I made?” she asks. Somehow, she looks ten times more frazzled than she did moments ago, her hands running through her hair in frantic thought.
Vegeta turns a violent shade of red. Of course, he is familiar with the ki cuffs she made. While originally something Bulma created with the intent of being helpful in some kind of battle situation, they quickly learned how useful they were in the bedroom.
Bulma ignores his flustered grumbles. “Well, it wouldn’t take much to make them expandable. It’s a full moon tonight. Give me a couple of hours to work on them, and then we can make sure you can still control yourself.”
Vegeta blinks in disbelief. “Woman, what exactly are you planning?”
“We can shackle you up in one of the airplane hangars; I’ll let a little moonlight in, and then bam! Giant ape. If you’re going to keep your furry belt, I want to make sure you aren’t going to crush our home. But go do whatever it is you do all day while I modify the cuffs. I’ll have my parents stay out late, maybe spend the night somewhere.” Bulma is talking fast, excited by her plan.
Vegeta does not look nearly as excited. But he doesn’t say anything, just wanders upstairs and leaves Bulma to her work.
—
The airplane hangar has been converted into what looks to be some sort of torture chamber. Bulma has to reassure herself quite a few times that Vegeta will understand. She created large metal chains that look silly next to his human form. They lay curled up, bolted to the wall, and ready to unwind when his body grows.
Bulma calls Vegeta on the cellphone she bought him when it’s close to sundown. She’s surprised when he answers. Within seconds, he’s standing in the doorway. She guesses it’s one of the new perks she gets as an apology for his Majin Meltdown.
“Hey,” she says, fighting for a casual tone. Vegeta looks stoic as ever, but the tail gives him away. It wags low and stiff. “Ready?”
“Get it over with,” he barks. Definitely anxious.
She realizes he’s not wearing his old armor. She knows it’s shot to shit, tucked away in some capsule in some closet. She’s never made him anything that expands to the size he would need. He strips off his clothes quickly, folding them into a pile on the floor.
Bulma approaches him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “I’ll make it quick, I promise. As soon as we figure out what’s going on, I’ll block out the moonlight. Less than five minutes, okay?” She kisses his cheek.
Vegeta nods, and Bulma leads him to the ki cuffs, her hand wrapped around his. She closes each cuff around his wrists, a feeling he’s familiar with, with the exception of the heavy chain that attaches him to the wall.
“Ankles, too, okay?” Before he can protest, she snaps a cuff around each of his ankles.
And there he is. Totally naked, helpless, and chained in front of her. She takes a mental picture. It would be hot if he didn’t look so uneasy. Admittedly, she still finds it pretty fucking hot.
She cups his cheek, hoping his recent personality modifications will still be in effect when he’s so vulnerable.
“Is it painful?” she asks softly, her thumb brushing his cheek.
She’s thankful he doesn’t pull away. He’s weaker than usual with his ki suppressed, but he’s still stronger than she is. It would be easy to pull away from her if he wanted to.
“It can be, but I’m built to withstand it. It’s a pain I was destined for.”
Her stomach drops at the thought that his suppressed ki could make it more painful. She wonders if he has considered that, but thinks it best not to tell him.
“Okay, big guy. Let’s get this over with. I have a remote to control the window. I’ll stand outside. If you stay you, call me and I’ll come back in. If not, just roar and smack your chest a bunch and I’ll stay away.” She kisses his forehead before turning away from him.
Bulma stands outside the hangar. She didn’t tell Vegeta that she has a live stream of the room on her phone. The moon is hanging in the sky now, full and bright. It would be beautiful if it wasn’t about to cause her husband to rip apart his flesh and bones to transform into a monster. She hesitates for a moment before activating the window panel. If she backed out now, Vegeta would give her more hell than he would as a rampaging giant ape. The skylight opens.
Bulma watches Vegeta, her heart circulating her blood so quickly that it’s making her skin itch. His head tilts toward the sky. His eyes widen first and then his teeth elongate. The transformation feels like something from a horror film. Even from outside the metal door, she can hear his screams and the horrifying snaps of bones and tendons. She wraps her free arm around her middle, wishing she had just ripped his tail off and let their lives go back to normal. Or normal-adjacent, anyway.
Vegeta is enormous, terrifying, and sharp. She realizes she is shivering. There is no way this monster has the sentience of her husband. It is a mindless creature.
“Bulma,” a low, deep, but unmistakably Vegeta voice rumbles.
Holy shit. This monster is her husband.
It takes her three deep breaths to gain the courage to open the door. Slowly, she walks in, Vegeta’s gigantic red eyes turning to watch her.
“I told you,” he grumbles. His brow is soaked in sweat.
“Just this once,” she starts, walking slowly toward him, “I will admit that you were right.”
The huff of Vegeta’s victorious laughter creates wind in the hangar.
Feeling a sudden burst of boldness, she stands next to Vegeta’s hairy foot. She was surprised how soft his tail was when she touched it earlier today. She wonders if his body is just as soft and runs her hand along his ankle. The fur is pleasantly soft.
“You’d make a nice blanket,” she comments, leaning her head on his leg.
Vegeta’s shuffling a bit and she inspects the shackles. They expanded perfectly, but Bulma imagines it’s still not comfortable.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course, woman. I’ve done this thousands of times.”
“But never with your ki suppressed,” she points out, attempting to look up and into his eyes.
Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t say anything. She assumes that to mean the ki suppression made it worse.
“I’ll close the window in five minutes, okay? I just want to make sure nothing crazy is going to happen.”
Vegeta nods, maneuvering to carefully sit down on the floor. She backs up slightly to give him room. Once he is settled, she leans against his hip. Curiosity is starting to poke at her brain. She’d never been able to pay attention to the oozaru this closely before. Her fingers rake through his fur again, nails scratching gently at his skin. It is much thicker than normal.
Bulma lets out a sudden snort of laughter.
“What?” Vegeta asks. His voice rumbles through her body.
“Nothing,” she laughs.
Vegeta can move his hand just enough to poke at her playfully. She’s amazed at his control. The gigantic finger brushes her so softly that she doesn't even stumble.
“Fine!” she giggles. “I’ve never seen oozaru dick before.” Bulma holds her sides as she dissolves into laughter. If Vegeta could blush right now, she knows he would be bright red.
Vegeta splutters and shifts in an attempt to close his legs and Bulma’s laughter doubles. With three minutes still left on her timer, Bulma is feeling very brazen. The five minutes she had established was based on no scientific evidence, it was just a random number that made her feel better about the whole thing. At this moment, she is very sure that Vegeta is Vegeta and nothing would change that.
She hoists herself up onto his shin, straddling it like a downed tree trunk.
“What are you doing?”
“Cuddling,” she responds nonchalantly, scooting up to his knee. “Honestly, this is amazing, Vegeta. I just can’t believe how in control you are.”
“It takes discipline. Something that Kakarot lacks.”
“So if you lost focus, would you lose control?”
“Doubtful, as I do not lose focus.”
The thing she is thinking is
reckless.
Completely fucking reckless. But making Vegeta lose control just for a moment? That is Bulma’s favorite activity. She slides higher up his leg, her hand massaging his thigh. Her heart is racing, but she needs to know. If Vegeta saw her naked through their bedroom window, would he rampage on an unsuspecting town? It is for science. She takes her shirt off.
He doesn’t ask her what she’s doing this time, but she notices his hips shifting.
“How’s your focus?” she teases.
“Are you suicidal?” he growls.
“Not particularly. You told me you don’t lose focus. I had to be sure. So, how’s your focus?” She runs her hand along his inner thigh.
Vegeta makes a strange grunting sound. “Fine.”
She moves her hand higher. “How about now?”
The five-minute alarm on Bulma’s phone rang out.
“Let me out of these.”
“I will once you’re normal-sized, again.”
Bulma hops off of Vegeta’s leg, not willing to be close during the transformation itself, even if she feels more secure around her gigantic husband. She pushes the button to close the skylight and watches as Vegeta shrinks back to his normal size. While it doesn’t seem exactly comfortable, the transformation seems less painful in this direction.
Vegeta is laying on the ground, breathing a bit heavily and
hard as a fucking rock.
“You seem to have a bit of a Pavlovian response to those ki cuffs.”
“Let me out of them. Your little experiment is over.”
Vegeta is completely free to move. The cuffs themselves have tightened, but there is so much slack in the chains that Vegeta could easily walk from one end of the room to the other. He doesn’t, though, and Bulma knows exactly why.
“What else does that tail do?” she asks with a knowing smirk.
She walks past him, and he looks a bit miffed, but that expression changes when he realizes she’s rotating a pulley on the wall, tightening the chains. The power behind the pulley system is enough to drag him. In seconds, he’s inches from the wall with nowhere to go.
While his arms and legs are pinned, his tail wanders freely, seeking her out and wrapping around her thigh.
“It looks like I need to create a tail cuff.”
“Don’t you dare,” he threatens. “Let me have this.”
She can’t deny him that. For years, she had noticed the quiet ways he missed his tail. With most of her nerves around the situation abated, she lets herself be happy for him.
Vegeta’s tail yanks her down, bringing her to her knees beside him.
Gently, she strokes the tail wrapped around her thigh, this time getting an up-close view of the way it makes his cock jump. She untangles it from her leg, running her nails down it from base to tip. Vegeta shudders violently underneath her, a drip of precome falling onto his stomach.
“Wow,” she whispers. “I’m going to have a lot of fun with this.” She moves to kneel between his legs.
As much as she wants to play with him, she can tell he isn’t going to last more than five seconds, so she might as well make it worth it. She licks the moisture off of his stomach, dragging her tongue alongside his cock. Vegeta is shaking with need underneath her, his eyes shut tightly. She wraps her lips around the head of his cock, sinking down until she bumps the back of her throat. At the same time, she gently squeezes the base of his tail.
Vegeta’s back arches harshly and he shouts. It’s the loudest noise she’s ever heard him make during sex. She bobs her head once, her fingers moving along his tail in a similar rhythm. That’s all it takes before he’s spilling himself in her mouth, pulling roughly against the ki cuffs. Smiling, she swallows him and takes a moment to admire her work. He’s bathed in sweat, with little red circles appearing on his wrists and ankles where he strained against the cuffs.
The cuffs release with the press of a button, all four at once, but Vegeta doesn’t move.
“Doing okay, big guy?” she asks softly.
Vegeta nods, his eyes still closed. It takes him another moment to open them, but he sits up when he does. His eyes are surprisingly bright as he gazes into hers.
When he speaks, it’s barely a whisper. “I hope I have proven that you can trust me again.”