A Bunch Of Still Shots From The Collected 3.

A bunch of still shots from the Collected 3.

Mayhem

"Genos..."

"Yes Sen-" A piece of soap came soaring in a wide arc to smack the young cyborg full on the face, stunning him into silence for a second. It fell into his hand, now imprinted with the vague definition of his features as a scream ran out from inside the locker room.

He frowned upon closer inspection; was that a bite mark embedded deep on the surface of the disfigured soap?

"Genos. Look," Saitama pointed calmly behind him in the doorway, his oval face boasting the same unreadable expression as always, a complete contrast to the chaos unfolding before them.

God was dead, and so were any of their remaining brain cells.

They, as in Metal Bat and Garou, were in the process of bashing each other's brains out in front of the hot tub with nothing but small towels wrapped around their waists, while a scantily clad Mumen Rider tried unsuccessfully to hold them apart. Bang and Atomic Samurai sat impassively in the tub behind them, occasionally commenting on their moves and acting as if nothing was wrong with two extremely buff and hot-headed boys trying their damn hardest to throttle each other. And was a baseball bat even allowed inside a locker room?

"Sensei, should we do something?" Genos asked with a glance at the bald hero.

"Nah, let's just find a place to sit before they burn down the building."

And part of him almost wished they did when Puri Puri Prisoner suddenly strutted in front of them buck-ass nude, heading with questionable intentions straight for Zombieman who was just trying to wash his hair on the bench.

"Hey! Cut it out you idiots! No one wants to deal with you two so just get out!" Another familiar voice rang out above all the noise as Amai Mask stomped over to the teenage brawlers, who were now completely naked and bloody. Neither pair seemed to realize that their towels had long been discarded, and Metal Bat was bleeding heavily from the face while Garou sported a few dark-colored bruises. Metal Bat swung once Amai Mask was within range, spitting out a few colorful curses that would put any sailor to shame as he missed by a hair.

The battle escalated, now a three-way fight as Mumen Rider lay passed out a few feet away, caught in the earlier crossfire. The poor guy would need new glasses once again.

"Here should be a good spot," Saitama said, pointing at a few unoccupied benches further away. It wasn't until a solid ten minutes that he sensed something was off, as if someone was watching him. Turning to the left, he was met with the blank gaze of a man in a furry white suit perched on top of the tiled wall, Watchdog Man.

How long has this guy been watching me?

He gazed back but Watchdog Man refused to look away. Maybe he was in an odd coma or something.

Okay...

"Sensei what's wrong?" Genos asked, as if sensing his discomfort.

"It's nothing I-" He was interrupted by a war cry as a ninja star suddenly lodged itself in the wall in front of him.

"Saitama! I've tracked you all the way here, now come fight me!" Sonic howled, not even waiting for a reply as he leapt towards him fully clothed from the entrance.

At least this one has clothes on, Saitama sighed.

"I'll take care of this Sensei!" Genos zoomed past him, incinerator glowing orange.

"No wait Genos! Don't use your cannons-"

BOOM!

The outer layer of the wall on the opposite side crumbled, leaving charred concrete behind as Sonic bounced around the open area.

"Ah, too late. Well, hopefully he has enough to pay for the repairs."

"Ah shit! You'll pay for that!" Flashy Flash roared as Sonic and Genos barreled into him and knocked him into a bucket of soapy water.

"Wait Flashy Flash!" Child Emperor pleaded, immediately chasing after them with the help of mechanical spider legs that sprouted from his backpack. The bathhouse really needed to upgrade their security. The three of them were now a dizzy blur dancing around the locker room.

Zombieman was sent flying into the wall as they rammed into him blindly, the back of his head hitting the wall with a sickening crack.

"Sorry!"

"Oh my God you killed him!" Puri Puri Prisoner sobbed in anguish, sprinting after him in all his naked glory.

Truth be told, to Zombieman the brief respite that death offered was far better than the awkward conversation he had been having with the ex-convict after the shittiest pick-up line he had ever heard in his entire immortal life.

"Have you ever been arrested?" Puri Puri Prisoner purred, fluttering his eyelashes at the pale man.

Zombieman furrowed his brows, replying with a very confused and hesitant "No?"

"Why do you ask?" He continued, nearly shuddering at the way the tall hero was eyeing his exposed chest.

"Because it must be illegal to look that good," Puri Puri Prisoner finished, and Zombieman could swear that the world was out to get him.

"Uh thanks," he muttered awkwardly. Never in his life would he have thought he would have be hit on by a criminal hero in the middle of a locker room full of out-of-control men acting like it was the goddamn apocalypse.

Yeah, death sounded good right about now. He would take every precious second enjoying the darkness before he healed and was dragged back into that living nightmare. Perhaps it was time to invest in some therapy.

"Garou, my boy, did you forget every technique I taught you? You're holding your hand wrong. You need to strike with your palm at an angle," Bang corrected as Metal Bat dodged his attack.

"Shut up old man! I wasn't trying to use your stupid technique anyways!" Garou snarled, springing forward again.

"Hey whose side are ya on anyways?"

"Sorry Metal Bat, old men like myself just can't help it," Bang grinned sheepishly.

"You dare turn your back on me?" Amai Mask punched him in the ribs with his momentary distraction, only enraging the seventeen-year-old more.

"I'll rip yer fucking head off you prick!"

"I don't think I ever want to come here again," Saitama said calmly as he watched a fire break out in the wet bathhouse.

A ninja star exploded behind him as Puri Puri Prisoner strutted past his vision. 

Goku Black x Reader: Forbidden Fruit (Chapter 17: Red Lights)

It was the smell of smoke that woke you up first. Then the frantic chittering and trampling of undergrowth as various animals rushed passed your tree, squirrels, deer, and even wolves. They all ran towards the same direction, away from North, where you were originally headed. You were so confused by the sight that you failed to notice the red claws drawing nearer and nearer, rapidly consuming everything in its path.

It was only until you realized that they were running from something that you finally turned your head, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. Then it hit you. There had been no rain during your slumber, there was only the sound of thunder and the crackling of lighting. Of course. It hadn’t been a rainstorm. It had been an electrical storm. And you were in a forest, surrounded by tall trees. Shit.

Everything was on fire.

The flames licked at the treetops, quickly approaching your hideout.

Oh fuck! You leaped out of the branches, hitting the ground hard and sprinting away immediately, not wasting a single second. There was no time to contact Black, and even if you could, there was no way you would be able to concentrate on escaping the fire and talking to him at the same time. As if it couldn’t get any worse, a bolt of electricity split the tree not too far from you, and it burst aflame. You could feel some of the aftershock coursing through your body, but it passed eventually.

Focusing blurrily on the shapes running past you, you followed in their footsteps, hoping one of those massive canines wouldn’t become hungry.

A large force suddenly shoved you off your feet, causing you to crack your forehead against a boulder jutting from the green grass. Well, it wouldn’t be green for much longer. The air seemed to dim around you, and everything began to swirl and blend together. The smoke invaded your nose and crept through your lungs, where it nestled like a dark gray cat, mauling and biting at your insides.

Ignoring the pounding in your head and your fading vision, you grasped onto the trunk of a tree and tried to force yourself into a standing position, a hand clasped firmly over your gasping mouth.

Well, you had never been burned to death before, but you weren’t exactly eager to experience it firsthand. It seemed as if all the forces of nature were after you, first drowning, now burning. What was next, a goddamn tornado?!

When will I ever catch a break?! You thought irritably as a mouse jumped over your shoes.

Even after about two days of rest, your body was still recovering from your escape from the underground prison on the beach, and the lightning strike definitely didn’t help.

Oh Black, where are you?

That’s when you caught the sound of splintering trees followed by a deep bellow. You turned your head to be met with a massive elk, barreling through the fiery vegetation towards you, giving you a crazy idea. Stepping to the side to avoid being trampled, you waited until the colossal creature had galloped next to you before jumping and looping your arms around its neck, and holding on until it ran past another tree and pushing yourself off the trunk and onto the elk’s back.

It let out a snort but didn’t seem to be particularly interested in bucking you off, too busy trying to outrun death. Hopefully, it wouldn’t end up electrocuted, but it was the only plan you could come up with on the spot.

“Black!” You hollered as you bounced on the elk, trying to keep your head from spinning and throwing you off. “Black!”

It leaped clumsily over a fallen log and you were nearly sent flying, clutching onto its rough, thick fur for dear life.

Can’t I have one fucking day of peace?! You lamented silently. Life was constantly throwing curveballs at you as of late, more than the past decade combined; first, you had been trapped in that godforsaken torture cave, then the entire forest decided to set itself on fire, and then you got electrocuted and your getaway rested on a weakening elk that was beginning to stumble and huff.

If you had been able to fully recover all your energy, you would have been able to signal to Black with your chi, but you were still too weak.

Every time you turned your head, the fire crept closer and closer, until you were barely outrunning it by more than a couple meters. No matter how much you tried to spur on your ride, it had inhaled to much smoke just like you and it was wobbling badly on its spindly legs. The poor thing looked like it was about to pass out any minute, and then you’d both be goners. Trees began to fall as the fire consumed them, and the smoke was so thick you could barely see. Most of the animals seemed to have evacuated, though every now and then you would see a small critter or so lying dead, caught by the gaping maws of death.

A weak squeal suddenly caught your attention, coming from a bit farther up ahead and to your right. As you approached, you realized that it was a brown boar, a juvenile by the looks of it. Its hooves scratched at the dirt as it tried to free its foot from a hole underneath a twisted root, the noises getting softer and softer by the second, before it mournfully put its head down to accept its demise.

You looked down at the wheezing elk, white foam crusting its lips and water glazing its wide, frightened eyes. Your brows furrowed before giving its neck a quick pat, steeling yourself to jump off. It would be able to flee faster without your weight, and there was no point in you both dying. And perhaps you would be able to save the boar. You, out of everyone understood the fear of death, and there wasn’t any end much worse than burning to a crisp, alone and terrified.

Well, it’s always a good time to try something new, you managed to scoff dryly at your own joke. It’s not like I can die anyways.

Sprinting to the trapped animal, you began to furiously dig around its hoof, and it began its struggles began anew as the boar came to realize that it still had a chance at surviving. You ripped at the hard roots that curled around its leg, gritting your teeth against the pain as your flesh tore at the force. If you had been at full health you could have snapped them like ropes, but alas, there was no use wishing for something that wasn’t there. Next time you saw Zamasu, you’d shove his balls down his throat and then watch him choke on it.

“Just a little more,” You puffed, sweat dripping down your face. Your lungs were in agony, and your eyes felt just as bad. Everything hurt like Hell, but there was nothing you could do about it.

The first fingers of the flames began to lap at your sleeve, causing the boar to get even more hysterical and continue to fling dirt back at an accelerated pace.

Finally, you were able to wriggle its foot free and it sped off, leaving you covered in ashes and grime. Crawling away from the approaching flames, you didn’t even get a chance to catch your breath before pulling yourself to your feet and staggering away from a horrible roasting. Mind reeling, you could barely see over the torrent of tears the fire forced out of your eyes.

You were so focused on limping away that you didn’t notice the loud groan of a blackened tree, falling towards you. By the time you were able to realize something was wrong, it was too late.

It fell with a thud onto your back, completely crushing your legs and back under its weight. You didn’t even have the energy to scream anymore, the heat and smog had made you nearly delirious. The dead tree had paralyzed everything below your lower back, so at least there was no pain.

It almost felt nice not to feel anything anymore, though through your closing eyes everything was being swallowed by the fire and being painted red or black. How you had come to hate the color red.

Black…..You managed to whisper weakly inside your rapidly failing consciousness. Black….please help….me….Look for…..red lights….

The last thing you saw was the cloudless open night sky as the trees fell around you and two dark shapes began closing in on you, one with familiar black tufts and the other with light blue hair, unable to hear their voices as they cried for you.

Friday the 13th Oneshots: Michael x Jason

Chapter 1: Handful

There was one thing that Michael began to notice since his cohabitation with Jason. The man was built like a tank. Large, firm pecs, bulging biceps, and a round, shapely ass. Well, it was more than that. It was, as he heard from joking teenagers, "thicc". He shivered in revulsion at using horny teenage lingo, he preferred never to stoop as low as those degenerates, but in this case he had no other words better suited to this situation.

It almost seemed that Jason was teasing him, bending forward at the waist to check his traps. But Michael knew that Jason was too naive and too innocent to do such a thing. The man didn't know he was a walking hunk. Michael let out a low growl of frustration, palming angrily at the large kitchen knife clasped in his right hand.

Jason straightened, shooting him a curious look and tilted his head in a silent question: 'What's wrong?'

Michael huffed and looked away. Jason would have rolled his eyes if he could, he had known the Boogeyman long enough to know that there was no point in trying to get anything out of him if he was in a rotten mood.

Still, Michael continued to follow the larger man as he checked his traps and patrolled his borders for intruders. Jason had quickly become accustomed to Michael's constant presence. The intense staring, on the other hand, was a bit harder to swallow. Jason didn't particularly care if Michael wanted to follow him to the shower, but it was a bit hard to focus when Michael stood six feet away and attempted to burn holes through his naked body. The townsmen thought Jason was a creep but he was nothing compared to Michael, Jason thought in amusement.

Michael, true to his reputation, was busy doing what he did best. Watching. Some people were born into the world with more than others. Jason was clearly one of these people. Or to be more precise, his backside was. Watching the hockey-masked killer striding around in those beige, form-fitting work pants damn near drove Michael insane.

Jason, ever oblivious to his own charm, got down on all fours to yank a crawfish cage out of the muddy lake bank. His pants were pulled taunt on the two, shapely cheeks. Michael immediately seized the opportunity to grab a handful of Jason's ass, and gave it a hard squeeze. It was much softer and malleable than Michael imagined, but he didn't have much time to admire it before Jason abruptly stood up and grunted indignantly with a hand on his machete.

Michael had already disappeared off into the woods by the time he turned around, bidding his time to strike again. 

Muscle Heads: Ohma x Raian

Chapter 3: Naughty

Raian glanced at the sleeping form next to him, Ohma’s chest rising and falling with each deep breath. He was so completely oblivious to the world around him that it could almost be considered overconfidence. 

The fact that anyone would be so relaxed as to sleep in his presence made Raian’s hands itch, as if he hadn’t caused enough trouble already. After Ohma’s room was destroyed by a particularly wild training session in which the crazy Kure decided to hurl him headfirst through the drywall, Grandfather Erioh had punished them by forcing Raian to let Ohma sleep in his room. 

And Ohma of course, though not particularly happy about it, did not give much of a shit. Raian loved riling up types like him, to see how far he could push him before he snapped, yet Ohma was much more resilient than any other man he’s seen. Living on the Inside has taught him enough patience to last a lifetime, so it was only a *minor* inconvenience to deal with someone like Raian.

Raian usually slept with the curtains open. He liked keeping the windows open at night and wasn’t someone who cared about privacy anyways. If someone was stupid enough to attack him in his sleep then let them. It would just be like a lamb walking into the mouth of a lion, and Raian was not one to reject any extra violence that so willingly placed itself into his grasp. 

His room was flooded with a dull, silver light, the moon was partially obscured by thick clouds tonight. He could smell rain in the air. 

A wide beam almost lined up perfectly with Ohma’s sprawled form, highlighting the edges of his face and captivating the attention of his roommate. 

Damn bastard doesn’t even know how pretty he is, Raian thought snarkily. Guys like Ohma normally annoyed him to no end, but he was different. It was almost endearing how clueless he was to his own charms. Almost. 

Wait. Since when did he start thinking Ohma was handsome? He’s been nothing but a pain in his ass since he showed up. Raian could feel the growing frustration well up in his chest, and he was almost tempted to throw the sleeping figure out of his room. 

He hated the feeling of confusion that began to flood over his body. Being confused was for the weak and for the prey that he devoured without a second thought. He didn’t think about petty girl shit like that. 

But it was hard for him not to look, with the way his dark lashes hung over his eyes or how his wild hair framed his cheekbones. 

Against his own mind, Raian had scooted closer to him to catch a better glimpse, staring almost creepily at Ohma’s face in the dark. 

Tch! There’s nothing special about this asshole! Raian scoffed to himself. He forced himself to roll over to the other side, facing the wall and yanking the blanket over himself almost aggressively. 

Dumb fucker’s getting in my head. 

But he still couldn’t go to sleep, even with his eyes screwed shut he saw him in his mind clear as day. 

Unfortunately for Raian, his subconscious knew better and had already begun trying to make Ohma his a while ago.

He had bought that shitty cologne from that big fragrance superstore that made his nose burn, glaring so hard at the cashier who had checked him out it was a wonder she didn’t burst into flames right then and there. 

He had snatched the bag away, leaving the poor girl shaking and stomped the entire way home in a foul mood. The cologne he had offhandedly chosen (it had taken him almost thirty minutes, never again) had been some sharp, oaky forest scent that he didn’t really care for but could still withstand without wanting to drown himself in the bathtub. (It totally wasn’t because Ohma spent a large portion of his time in the forest or anything.)

It was just so that old man Erioh would stop getting on his ass after missions for smelling like shit, Raian had told himself. 

And he had started running his hand through his hair in the morning (because Raian had never heard of a comb before), and bought new, fancier clothes. Not that he didn’t already have a revolving door of new clothes from how often he ripped them up, but these were slightly nicer. Just slightly. 

Luckily the only ones who seemed to notice were Hollis and Reiichi as perceptive as they were, and they were both unwilling to poke the hornet’s nest by bringing it up to him. 

But thinking was never Raian’s strong suit, anyways. Things tend to get blown up and destroyed when he thought too hard. 

Snorting, Raian reached over his shoulder and flicked his face, watching as Ohma grunted and scrunched up his nose, but still remained fast asleep. He did it harder this time, only for his hand to be batted away like a fly.

Growling, the troublemaker almost considered punching him in the face if that bastard kept ignoring him, but as his eyes slid down Ohma’s exposed torso he had a better idea.

Raian reared back his arm, aimed, and slammed his open palm down right into Ohma’s hard stomach with an audible SMACK that was sure to wake up half the manor.

It did the trick, all right.

Neither Ohma nor Raian slept a wink that night, nor did the entire Kure Village who were kept awake by their wild brawling.

The house shook with the force of their fight, and all through the night one could hear Raian’s wild howling and the sound of thudding blows. 

Though some of the groans emitted from their quarters sounded suspiciously like something else…

A Serendipitous Future

A request made by Shannon in which the reader and Black have children in an alternate universe. Additionally, the reader is Vegeta's sister and Black has reversed his ways. It is a one-shot.

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In all of your dreams you had never believed this would be possible. You had long since given up on ever hoping that you would live to see the sky turn blue again, nor the humans thriving after the destruction of Goku Black. And even more, you could never have foreseen that you would have been the cause of it. But all those facts dwarfed in comparison to your established relationship with the infamous killer turned hero. He had become your husband.

You, who had convinced him that humans were worth something, that mortals deserved to live. No one knew of the true heroine of the universe, and you were alright with that. It was enough to finally forget the days of the past, those days you had suffered in terror and agony, watching your world go up in flames. And yet, there were days you didn’t want to forget, not now, not ever. Memories that you would lock away in your heart forever, memories of him. How you managed to convince the cold-blooded serial killer of days long gone you weren’t exactly sure, and neither was Black. But for some reason, the fateful day he met you, levitating above you as you pleaded with tears streaming down your cheeks, yet refusing to back down; he was unable to kill you. Black had never spared anyone before, and as much as Zamasu goaded him to do it, he just couldn’t. And gradually, after several encounters, he inevitably drew closer, captivated by the one person who didn’t think he was a monster.

It was ironic, how a God like him fell in love with a mortal like you, the people he swore to eradicate, and he had almost done it. The Zero Mortal Plan had been so close, the only barriers were a few other Saiyans that Black could have easily crushed. He had never even thought of the possibility that a mortal would ever be able to stop him, let alone change him. It frightened him at first, but after so much turmoil he stopped fighting it and succumbed to his feelings, much to his partner’s rage.

And when Zamasu had charged at you with murder in his pale, silver eyes, it was Black who had protected you. Not Trunks, not the other Saiyans, but Black. And that was the final catalyst for your love, which exploded into something no one had ever expected.

Obviously, not everyone accepted it at first, many at first spewing filthy slurs at you, but Trunks, your best friend and cousin, though confused and hurt, had shaken his head in defeat and hesitantly supported you. Vegeta, your hot-headed brother, was nothing short of murderous and disgusted when he found out, but came around to it in due time, though neither Black nor the Prince was anything short of frigid towards each other. And surprisingly, so many others who were too tired to hate and blame anymore chose to stand by your side. It was no easy task to convince the Gods of the other universes to pardon his crimes and give him a second chance, but on the account of your own innocence and purity, not to mention the own deeds you had contributed that would rival a God’s (Enough so to earn you the title of “Warrior Princess”), they had sullenly agreed. It took time at first for Goku Black to be acclimatized to humans, but you were patient with him, and slowly became his everything.

Son Goku and his friends, with the help of many Gods who were sympathetic or simply vengeful for their cause, restored Trunks’ timeline along with the help of the dragon balls.

Trees sprouted from the ground and the barren soil became rich once more, the scourge of the universe that lingered and festered like some disease abolished. Cities were rebuilt and soon the universe began to be restored. And though Black tried to save his partner, Zamasu, in the end, was dissolved by Lord Zeno. Though only the Z-fighter knew you as the true cause of this abrupt turn of events, you were more than delighted by Black’s sudden change of heart. Perhaps it was partly because of the body of the kind-hearted Saiyan that no longer existed, but there was no doubt that you had your influence too.

It had been a few years since then, the day you finally saw the light in his heart, or more specifically, when he had openly revealed it to you, and you could never forget his words. “If it is your wish, then I will try, all for you, my love.”

And he had kept true to his promise, at the very minimum refraining from slaughtering the innocent, though you could see how difficult it was for him. And you loved him all the more for it.

After you all had settled the issue, you were both living in the mountains in an embellished wooden cabin that Black had built with his own two hands, with the occasional visit from Mai and Trunks, who were still a bit uncomfortable around your husband but tolerant enough. You really couldn’t ask more of them, and their visits were appreciated. But despite their frostiness towards the black-haired God, they had been overjoyed when you gave birth to a baby boy nearly five years prior, who bore an uncanny resemblance to their powerful father. To most, Black was still unreadable and distant, but even you could perceive the subtle joy in his dark eyes when he held his newborn son at your bedside. Two years later, you were blessed with another child, this time a girl, who bore more of a resemblance to you. And again, Black was overjoyed, constantly keeping his children within his sight and spending as much time with you as possible. Luckily for you, as one of the mightiest beings in the universe he could easily provide for your entire family with barely any effort, meaning that you were never apart for long. When you ventured into the city, Black would always follow in disguise (If you could call it that, all he would wear was a dark grey hoodie), cradling your children protectively while he fondly watched you shop.

Currently, it was springtime, and the desolated planet that had once been earth had been completely hidden by the blooming flowers and plants, showing no trace of the bloodshed that had once scorched the earth. Of course, those who were there would never wholly forget, but there was nothing more you could have wished for. You let out a sigh of contentment as you reclined back in your chair on the patio, letting the gentle sunlight caress your cheek. Black was perched in front of you, staring down earnestly at the forest below, the sound of laughter floating its way into your ears as your son frolicked around in the trees with your daughter. Two more voices mingled with your children’s delighted screams, specifically a blue-haired Saiyan and a black-haired woman. They had come over to visit, a few minutes ago, and had agreed to facilitate your children so you and Black could get some rest. As much as you loved your energetic son and curious daughter, parenthood was exhausting even with Black at your side, especially because of their had Saiyan blood.

You had barely gotten any sleep lately and neither had your lover, though he showed no physical evidence of sleep deprivation and fatigue like you did. He looked as perfect as always.

It’s so not fair, how does he always look so damn good-

He turned around at that exact moment and your face flushed as bright as a tomato, causing him to smirk as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. Even after being married for this many years he was still hard to read. He sauntered over to you, picking you up by the waist much to your surprise before plopping down where you were laying and dropping you on top of him. Such intimacy had been nonexistent during his life as a Kai, but he had learned to appreciate it after all this time.

“What were you thinking about? Must be something not so innocent by that face of yours,” he whispered huskily in your ears, his muscular arms tightening around your waist.

“And how would you be so sure? It’s not like you’re a mind-reader.” You retorted, bumping him with your elbow.

“What if I was?” He purred with such conviction then you almost believed it for a terrifying second. But you called his bluff. You had gotten so used to it now that you barely cared.

“Then you would know what I’m thinking right now.”

“Alright,” he chuckled lightly, “enlighten me, Y/n.”

“I’m thinking….” You touched your chin and pretended to ponder it for a few seconds. “That you’re an ass.”

“Oh really.” You could nearly hear the smug smirk in his voice as his hands wandered under your shirt to stroke your bare skin.

“Y-yeah,” your voice trembled as his calloused fingers grazed over your ribs, and you had to keep yourself from moaning. “Y-you’re kind of an ass.”

You remembered those days when you could barely make out a stuttering sentence in front of him, let alone tease him and get away with it. He had murdered people for far less back then, but now, he was something else entirely different, at least to you. He still projected that introverted, rough exterior towards everyone else except you and your children, but you had just accepted that as his personality.

In a brave move, you flipped over to straddle his lap and leaned in for a kiss.

Suddenly, two high-pitched voices began to draw closer and closer on the stairs, accompanied by light footsteps and followed by two pairs of much louder ones.

“C-come on kids! Stay down here and don’t disturb your parents!” You heard Mai’s voice ring out.

“But I want to play with daddy!” You heard your son say. They were awfully close and you were stuck in a provocative position, scrambling to get off and ending up falling ungracefully on your side like a turtle while Black watched in amusement.

“Daddy!” Your son leapt a good five feet into the air, which had surprised you at first but over time you had become accustomed to it. After all, all your life you had been surrounded by surreally strong warriors, on the account of being Vegeta’s only surviving family member.

Black caught him with ease and entertained him as if nothing had been happening before, you hastily scrabbling to pick yourself up from the ground. It was times like these that you wished you were as smooth as he was. Your daughter let out shouts of glee from Trunks’ arms, tugging at his colorful locks.

Both Mai and Trunks seemed to have figured out what you two were doing before there got there, judging by the embarrassed looks on their faces. Trunks passed your daughter into your arms as you thanked them, offering them tea for their trouble but they stated that they had an appointment coming up soon. Waving them goodbye, you watched as they turned into blurry specs in the sky while rocking your babbling daughter in your arms in a desperate attempt for her to go to sleep. You had a nagging suspicion that they left to give you two some privacy for whatever they suspected you were doing before being interrupted by your hyperactive children.

To be honest, that did seem like a pleasant break to the chaos two toddlers brought. But you loved them nonetheless, and you could tell by the smile on Black's face that he only revealed to you three that he felt the same.

“You know, you could’ve been really popular with the ladies with that smile,” you laughed quietly as you closed the door to your kids’ bedroom after tucking them in; they had quickly burned out all their seemingly endless energy after playing with their father, who was the only one with the stamina to match them. Perhaps letting them eat cake for dessert in the morning wasn’t the brightest idea. 

“What ladies?” Black snorted, rolling his eyes.

He entered your shared bedroom, pulling off his shirt and changing into a pair of sweatpants, leaving the battle-hardened muscles exposed to your wandering eyes. You changed too, trailing after him onto the couch in the living room and flicking on the television. You couldn’t really concentrate however, not with Black sitting in all his glory next to you, and who could blame you for looking? He had the body of a Roman God: a sculpted eight pack, bulging biceps and everything in between. To you Black was the epitome of perfection, and you to him.

Even just sitting on the couch, with his cheek propped up against a brawny forearm was enough to get you to melt.

It should be illegal to be so casually hot, you grinned cheekily at your own thoughts.

“I know you’re thinking something weird over there,” an unexpected flick to the nose jolted you out of your daydreams. “Something perverted again I assume?”

“N-no.”

He raised an incredulous eyebrow at you and you sighed. “Maybe….”

Black let out a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat and pulled something out of his pocket, swinging it uninterestingly in his hand. Your eyes widened in horror as you realized it was your phone. When did he get that? It had been in your back pocket for God’s sake!

“I know your phone password, Y/n.” Black threatened, turning on your phone. Of course, he had never gone on it before, in fear of scarring his eyes for life but hey, it was always a good time for firsts.

“Okay fine! I admit it you jerk! I was thinking about you!” You shoved his chest with both hands and muttered under your breath, snatching back your phone. God, he loved to rile you up.

Your back suddenly hit the couch below you, and your head was caged in by a pair of strong arms. “Then how about you stop imagining and show me?” Black’s lips ghosted over the junction between your neck and shoulders, making you shiver in anticipation.

“Gladly…” You reached to touch his bare chest before-

“Mommy! I think I peed!” Your son's wail interrupted the silence, and you both stiffened. 

“Aw shit. Not it!” You threw up your hands in front of you, and Black leaned back in irritation and exhaled loudly through his nose.

“Goddamnit…..”