Out Of Place (DBZ Various x Reader)

~Third Person: Vegeta's POV~

Vegeta glared up at the ceiling, a grumpy frown on his face. Since the tournament, he'd been mostly lurking around the house; unhappy that he'd lost to Kakarot. Well, that and Bulma requested he spend some time with her now that he wasn't training endlessly for the tournament, but he'd never admit to giving into her request to anyone. His sour mood had him holed up in the bedroom since the training room was currently under repairs. Speaking of Bulma, she had come upstairs worriedly mumbling something about Trunks and Kakarot's brat; Goten before heading back downstairs.

He wasn't all that worried. Trunks was his spawn after all; he could handle whatever he got himself into without help, so he continued to mope and glaring holes into the walls.
"Gohan! Videl! Bulma's back!"
"SHUT UP!" He yelled, sitting up from his position to fix his harsh gaze on the door.
"STOP YELLING!" Bulma shouted back, earning a huff from the Saiyan.

After the shouting match was done, he could hear people conversing downstairs before the front door shut and the house was quiet again. He sat there for a few more minutes before his stomach growled loudly, demanding food. Vegeta hauled himself to his feet and swung the door open, coming face to face with Yamcha. He frowned.
"What?" he questioned harshly, brushing past the male.

"Bulma wanted me to tell you they were heading out to look for Trunks and Goten," he swallowed, watching the Saiyan brush past him nervously. Vegeta rolled his eyes, heading for the kitchen.
"Is that all? The boy can handle himself, I don't know why she's making such a fuss over it," he grumbled to himself, grabbing a stack of food out of the fridge. Yamcha had paused in the doorway to watch the male.
"Trunks is her kid. Makes sense she'd be worried about him," he said with a small shrug.

The prince rolled his eyes. Of course she was worried, but Trunks was his son, a Saiyan as well. She didn't need to coddle him.
"Don't you have something better to do?" he said heatedly, glowering at Yamcha. The human gulped slightly, and turned away from the kitchen.

"Yeah. Enjoy your lunch..." he mumbled, disappearing off into the house somewhere else. Vegeta huffed. Why Bulma still kept him around was beyond him, and as much as he wanted to kick the human out, he didn't particularly feel like getting an earful from Bulma when she got back. He continued to munch away on his lunch, the pile of food he'd grabbed slowly diminishing. A sudden spike in ki made him pause mid bite, and the Saiyan turned to look off into the distance, brows furrowed.

It was strong, untrained and sporadic. It died out as quickly as it appeared, however, and Vegeta dismissed it. Having been around the Z Fighters for years, it wasn't uncommon for humans and others to learn how to use their ki. It was probably just some amateur messing around. He continued to eat, the hole in his stomach slowly filling up.

He tossed the pile of trash into its respective can before diving back into the fridge, his eyes set on the pudding in the back. Vegeta cracked it open and started at it as he heard the front door open again. He could hear Yamcha speaking to someone before he watched the human zoom past the kitchen's doorway in a rush. He raised a brow. The prince meandered his way to the doorway, leaning against it to get a better look at the doorway.

The human was in one of the other side rooms, tapping away at his phone hurriedly, and Vegeta turned as he heard more shuffling heading his way. A flash of (h/c) brushed past him, as they glanced around looking for something before ducking into the bathroom. He raised another brow, gazing at the open doorway in slightly confusion. They looked familiar, but he didn't make a habit of remembering random humans he'd probably never see again. So why did he know their face...?

They appeared out of the bathroom again, a small box in their hands as they passed Vegeta again, heading back for the main room, Yamcha following close after. He stuck a spoonful of pudding into his mouth, tuning out the voices as he tried to place their face. He was pulled out of his pondering when the door slammed open loudly, making him jump a little, almost choking on the spoon.
"TRUNKS!
"GOTEN!"