Tides of Us
Late night trip to the beach.
The air was warm, carrying the gentle scent of the ocean as waves lapped rhythmically against the shore. The evening sky was painted in hues of orange and lavender, the sun dipping below the horizon in a soft farewell. Poka stood barefoot at the water’s edge, the hem of her long dress fluttering with the breeze. She had been quiet most of the day, her light gray eyes fixed on the horizon as if the endless expanse of water held all the answers she sought.
Buu watched her from a short distance, his arms crossed as he leaned against a nearby rock. He had agreed to this trip reluctantly, finding the serene beach far too quiet for his liking. But watching Poka, so absorbed in her thoughts, he found himself intrigued.
“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind, or are we just going to stand here all night?” he asked, his deep voice breaking the stillness.
Poka turned to look at him, her expression soft but distant. “I was just thinking about how far we’ve come,” she said, her voice barely louder than the waves.
Buu raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Far how? We didn’t even walk that much.”
She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Not like that. I mean us. Everything we’ve been through to get to this moment.”
He stood beside her now, his crimson eyes scanning her face. “You’re being sentimental again,” he said, though there was no edge in his tone.
“Maybe,” she admitted, glancing back at the ocean. “But I think it’s worth acknowledging. It wasn’t always like this, you know.”
Buu’s smirk softened as he crossed his arms again. “Yeah, I remember. You used to barely talk to me. Always hiding behind your spells, like I was going to bite you.”
Poka looked up at him, her cheeks darkening slightly. “You weren’t exactly approachable back then. Always so proud and intimidating.”
“And now?” he asked, leaning down slightly to meet her gaze.
She smiled, her voice gentle. “And now, I see the side of you no one else does. The side that teases, protects, and... cares.”
Buu straightened, his expression unreadable for a moment before his crimson eyes softened. “You’ve got a way of making me sound a lot better than I am, you know that?”
“I just tell the truth,” she said simply, turning her attention back to the waves.
For a while, they stood in silence, the sound of the ocean filling the space between them. Buu glanced at her again, noticing the way her shoulders seemed more relaxed, her usually guarded demeanor softened by the calm of the evening.
Without thinking, he reached out, his hand brushing against hers. Poka glanced up at him, her light gray eyes wide but warm.
“What are you doing?” she asked softly.
“Nothing,” he said, though his fingers curled gently around hers. “Just making sure you don’t wander off.”
She laughed lightly, the sound soft and musical. “I’m not going anywhere, Majin Buu.”
“Good,” he said, his tone quiet but firm.
They stayed like that, hand in hand as the sky darkened and stars began to appear, their faint glow reflected in the rippling water.
“You know,” Buu said after a while, his voice low, “I don’t do this kind of thing for anyone else.”
Poka looked up at him again, her gaze curious. “Do what?”
“This,” he said, gesturing to the beach and the quiet around them. “Standing around, being... still.”
She smiled, her grip on his hand tightening slightly. “Then I’ll consider myself lucky.”
He huffed, though there was a faint smile on his lips. “You should.”
Poka stepped closer, her free hand resting lightly on his chest. “And you should know that this means a lot to me. Not just the beach, but... you being here.”
Buu stared at her, his crimson eyes softening further. “I’m not going anywhere either, Poka,” he said, his voice steady. “You should know that by now.”
“I do,” she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper.
He leaned down, his forehead resting lightly against hers. For all his pride and power, moments like this reminded him of something far more important—something he had only found with her.
The waves crashed softly against the shore as they stood there, wrapped in the quiet of their connection. For all their differences, they had found something rare—something unshakable.
And as the stars above lit the night sky, Buu pulled Poka into his arms, holding her as if the world around them didn’t matter. Because, in that moment, it didn’t.
Loved Beyond Measure
Buuhan being admired by his wife before bed.
The moonlight filtered softly into the bedroom, its silvery glow casting delicate patterns across the walls. The night was still, with only the faint hum of crickets outside to break the quiet. In the warmth of their shared bed, Buu lay on his back, one arm draped over Poka, who was nestled against his side. Her light gray eyes, half-lidded with affection, traced his face as she ran her fingers along the strong, defined line of his jaw.
“You have such a powerful face,” she murmured, her voice quiet but warm. “Everything about you—your jaw, your eyes, even that little smirk you always wear—it’s all so... mesmerizing.”
Buu tilted his head slightly, his crimson eyes narrowing with faint amusement. “Mesmerizing?” he repeated, his lips twitching into the very smirk she’d mentioned. “Is that what you call it?”
“What else would I call it?” she asked, her voice teasing as her fingers continued their soft exploration of his features. “You know you’re handsome, Love. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
“Handsome, huh?” he mused, his smirk widening. “You’ve been admiring me a lot tonight, haven’t you?”
“Always,” she replied simply, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. Her tentacles brushed lightly against his shoulder as she settled closer to him.
Buu’s smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of something deeper. He wasn’t used to this—this kind of tenderness, this level of affection. For so long, he had been a force of destruction, feared and respected for his power but never truly seen for who he was.
“You’re too soft,” he muttered, his crimson eyes dropping to meet hers.
“And you’re too hard,” Poka countered with a faint smile. “That’s why we balance each other.”
Her hand moved to rest against his chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns along his skin. “I love how warm you are,” she whispered. “How safe I feel with you.”
Buu’s chest tightened at her words, and he let out a low sigh, his free hand moving to rest over hers. “I don’t get you sometimes, Poka,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Someone like you... I never thought you’d end up here. With me.”
“And I never thought I’d find someone who made me feel like this,” she replied, her light gray eyes shimmering. “But I did. I found you.”
He stared at her for a long moment, his crimson eyes searching hers for something—hesitation, doubt, anything that might make her words less real. But all he found was sincerity.
“I never thought I’d feel this way,” he admitted, his voice rough but steady. “Loved. Like I matter for more than what I can destroy.”
Poka’s smile widened, and she leaned up to kiss his cheek again, her voice soft as she whispered, “Because you do matter, Majin Buu. To me, you’re everything.”
The weight of her words hit him harder than any blow ever could. Overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close until her head rested beneath his chin. She fit so perfectly against him, her small frame a contrast to his towering one, yet somehow, it felt right.
“You’re mine, Poka,” he murmured, his voice low but full of emotion. “Always.”
“And you’re mine,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
For a moment, the two of them lay in silence, the only sound the soft rhythm of their breathing. Then, as if unable to resist, Buu tilted her chin up and captured her lips in a deep, lingering kiss. It was a kiss filled with everything he couldn’t put into words—his gratitude, his devotion, his love.
When they finally pulled apart, Poka’s cheeks were flushed, her light gray eyes wide but warm. “That was unexpected,” she said softly, though the faint smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement.
“Get used to it,” Buu said, his smirk returning as he rested his forehead against hers. “Because I’m not letting you go.”
“Good,” she whispered, her voice carrying a quiet joy. “Because I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
As the night deepened, the two of them remained entwined, their hearts beating in perfect harmony. For Buu, the feeling of being loved was still new, still overwhelming. But with Poka beside him, he knew he didn’t have to face it alone.
And for Poka, being in his arms was all the proof she needed that love could bloom in the unlikeliest of places, turning even the fiercest warrior into someone worth cherishing.
***
Later that night the room was quiet, the faint glow of moonlight spilling across the bed where Poka and Buu lay. She was fast asleep, her breathing soft and steady as her small frame curled under the covers. Her twin tentacles shifted slightly with each breath, resting peacefully against the pillow.
Buu, however, couldn’t sleep. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling with his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. His arms were crossed behind his head, and his head tentacle twitched occasionally as his thoughts churned.
He glanced at Poka, her serene expression contrasting starkly with the storm in his mind. For all her calm, for all her quiet strength, she was a mystery to him.
“How?” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. “How can someone like her love someone like me?”
It was a question he’d never asked out loud, not even to her. He prided himself on his confidence, his power, and his ability to dominate any situation. But when it came to Poka, none of that seemed to matter. She saw past his strength, past his pride, and into something deeper—something he wasn’t sure he fully understood.
His crimson eyes narrowed slightly as he considered something he’d never thought he’d entertain. If I absorbed her… would I understand her better?
The thought was intrusive, unsettling, and yet it lingered. Absorbing others had always been a means to an end—gaining their strength, their knowledge, their abilities. But with Poka, the idea felt different. It wasn’t about power. It was about understanding.
If he absorbed her, he would know her completely—her thoughts, her emotions, her reasons for loving him despite everything. He would understand the way her mind worked, why she chose to stay by his side, and why she looked at him the way she did.
He frowned, his jaw tightening as the thought weighed on him. It felt wrong, even selfish, to consider such a thing. She wasn’t like the others he had absorbed; she wasn’t a tool or a means to an end. She was Poka—his wife, his partner, the one person who had shown him what it meant to be loved for who he was.
Buu sighed, his crimson eyes softening as he turned his head to look at her again. Her dark gray skin glowed faintly in the moonlight, her tentacles resting peacefully against her face. She looked so small, so delicate, and yet she had a strength he couldn’t deny.
“I don’t need to absorb you to understand you,” he murmured, his voice quiet but resolute. “I just… need to try harder.”
He reached out, his large hand brushing lightly against one of her tentacles. The cool, soft texture under his fingertips grounded him, pulling him out of his thoughts.
Poka stirred slightly, her light gray eyes fluttering open as she turned to face him. “Majin Buu?” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep.
“Go back to sleep,” he said softly, his tone unusually gentle.
She frowned slightly, her light gray eyes studying him through the haze of sleep. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replied, his smirk returning faintly. “Just thinking.”
“About what?” she asked, her voice barely audible as she nestled closer to him.
He hesitated, his crimson eyes locking onto hers. “About how lucky I am,” he said finally, his voice low but sincere.
Her cheeks darkened slightly, and she smiled, her head resting against his chest. “You’re impossible, Love.”
“And you’re everything,” he murmured, his hand resting lightly on her back.
As Poka drifted back to sleep, Buu stared at the ceiling once more, his thoughts quieter now. He didn’t need to absorb her to understand her—he just needed to listen, to watch, and to let her love him in the way only she could.
And for the first time in a long while, that felt like enough.
A Stylish Transformation
They go shopping!!
The bustling mall was alive with the chatter of shoppers and the hum of activity, though the atmosphere changed the moment Majin Buu stepped inside. His towering figure and sharp crimson eyes were enough to draw stares, but the intimidating aura he radiated sent a ripple of fear through the crowd. Onlookers kept their distance, some hurrying out of his path entirely, while others whispered nervously to each other.
Beside him, Poka walked with a calm, measured stride, her dark aura standing out just as much as his imposing presence. She glanced up at him with a faint smile, unbothered by the wide berth people gave them.
“You’re making quite the impression,” she teased, her light gray eyes glinting with amusement.
Buu huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’re just scared. As they should be.”
Poka rolled her eyes, tugging gently on his arm to lead him toward a sleek clothing store. “Well, you’re about to give them something else to talk about. Today, you’re getting a makeover.”
Buu frowned, his crimson eyes narrowing. “Why? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
She gestured to his signature gi and white harem pants, the fabric worn from countless battles. “It’s not that there’s anything wrong with it,” she said diplomatically. “But don’t you think it’s time to try something new? Something elegant?”
He raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “Elegant? Do I look like the kind of person who needs to be elegant?”
“Yes,” Poka said firmly, pulling him into the store before he could protest further.
The staff froze as the pair entered, their faces pale as they quickly pretended to busy themselves with racks and displays. Poka ignored them, guiding Buu toward a section of neatly pressed suits and tailored blazers.
“Try this one,” she said, holding up a deep burgundy suit jacket that matched the intensity of his crimson eyes.
Buu snorted, taking the jacket from her reluctantly. “This is ridiculous.”
“Just humor me,” she said, smiling as she handed him a matching vest and black slacks. “Go on.”
He sighed dramatically but stepped into the fitting room. A few minutes later, the door opened, and Buu emerged, his broad shoulders filling out the jacket perfectly. The dark fabric accentuated his sharp features, and the tailored fit made him look every bit as commanding as his usual attire—if not more so.
Poka’s eyes lit up as she clapped her hands together. “Majin Buu, you look amazing!”
He frowned, glancing at himself in the mirror. “I don’t get it. It’s just clothes.”
“It’s more than that,” she said, stepping closer to adjust the lapels of the jacket. “The burgundy makes your skin glow—it complements your pink so perfectly. You’re radiant, Love. These colors bring out everything strong and striking about you.”
His crimson eyes flicked toward her, and he blinked, caught off guard. “Radiant?” he echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief.
“Yes,” she said firmly, her light gray eyes meeting his. “You’re always beautiful, but this just... enhances it.”
Buu’s cheeks darkened slightly, and he huffed, crossing his arms. “You’re making too much of this.”
“And you’re not making enough,” she countered, her tone playful.
Over the next hour, Poka had him try on a variety of outfits—everything from sleek black suits to more casual but fashionable ensembles, like a fitted leather jacket paired with dark jeans. Each time he stepped out of the fitting room, her eyes lit up, and she showered him with compliments, noting how each color seemed to bring out a different aspect of his striking appearance.
By the time they were done, Buu was carrying several bags of new clothes, his expression a mix of bemusement and mild irritation. “You’re enjoying this too much,” he grumbled.
“Of course I am,” Poka said with a smile, her light gray eyes sparkling. “You deserve to look as amazing as you are.”
As they left the store, the onlookers who had been watching from a distance quickly parted to make way for them. Buu smirked, his intimidating presence undiminished despite the stylish outfit he now wore.
“Looks like they still know who’s in charge,” he said smugly.
Poka laughed softly, slipping her arm through his. “Let them look. They’re just jealous they’ll never look as good as you do.”
He glanced down at her, his smirk softening slightly. “You’re the only one who could talk me into something like this, you know.”
“I know,” she said with a grin. “And you’re welcome.”
As they walked through the mall, Buu couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of pride—not in the clothes, but in the way Poka looked at him. For all his strength and power, it was her unwavering affection that truly made him feel unstoppable.
Buu's House
A story that takes place early in their training days before they dated. Poka wonders where Buu goes off to after their sessions.
Majin Poka stood at a distance, her light gray eyes narrowing as she watched Buu’s tall form disappear over the horizon. The training session had ended on a sour note—as usual—with sharp words exchanged and Majin Buu smugly walking off, leaving her fuming in his wake. This time, curiosity got the better of her.
Where did he go after training?
She followed him discreetly, keeping her energy low and steps silent. He led her farther than she expected, through grassy plains until he arrived at a bizarre structure. It was oddly shaped, resembling stacked pods or some kind of giant larva. Poka crouched behind a boulder, peeking as Buu entered the strange house.
“This is where he lives?” she muttered, raising an eyebrow. She couldn’t imagine someone like him settling in a place so... quaint.
Summoning all her stealth, she floated closer, finding an open window to peer through. Inside, Buu’s tall frame hunched slightly in the small, cramped space. She had to stifle a laugh as he awkwardly maneuvered himself around the undersized furniture. He bumped his head on the low ceiling and grumbled loudly.
“Stupid house. Stupid Poka,” he muttered, plopping down on a chair that looked far too small for him. “Always so serious. Doesn’t she ever get tired of nagging?”
Poka bit her lip to keep from laughing. Is that what he really thinks of me?
Buu continued to vent, completely unaware of his audience. “And why does she always have to look at me like I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to her? I’m trying here!” He waved his arms dramatically before slumping in his chair. “Not that she cares.”
Poka tilted her head, amused by how much energy he put into complaining about her. She couldn’t help but smirk.
Then, to her surprise, Buu pulled out a small table, placing it in the center of the room. From a hidden compartment, he retrieved an assortment of sweets—cakes, candies, and pastries. His entire demeanor shifted as he clapped his hands together like a delighted child.
“Finally. Peace and dessert,” he said, his voice softening as he took a seat. Picking up a slice of cake, he smiled—a genuine, unguarded expression Poka had never seen before.
She watched as he took a bite, closing his eyes in satisfaction. “Mmm. Perfect. Not like Poka,” he mumbled between bites. “All she does is criticize. She’d probably hate this cake too. Sour, bitter, like her personality.”
Poka’s eyes widened, a mix of annoyance and amusement bubbling inside her. Oh, I’ll show you sour and bitter, she thought, suppressing the urge to storm in. Instead, she stayed quiet, watching as he finished his cake and leaned back with a contented sigh.
For a moment, she felt a pang of something she couldn’t quite place. It was strange seeing him like this—so unguarded, so normal. He wasn’t the arrogant, teasing warrior she clashed with every day. He was just... Buu, sitting in his odd little house, enjoying a moment of peace.
Poka backed away from the window, deciding she’d seen enough. As she floated back toward her own quarters, she couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Sweet tooth,” she murmured to herself. “No wonder he’s so soft.”
The thought lingered in her mind, and for the first time, her irritation with Buu felt just a little bit lighter.
***
Majin Poka trudged back to her abandoned house, exhaustion from the day’s training wearing on her small frame. The mushroom desert's quiet isolation was her solace, a place to escape Majin Buu’s overwhelming presence. She pushed open the creaky wooden door, expecting the usual solitude.
Instead, her light gray eyes widened in disbelief. There, stretched across her surprisingly sturdy and comfortable couch, was Buu. His long legs were draped over the armrest, his head propped up on a cushion that didn’t belong to him. A faint smirk played on his lips as he rested, one hand lazily dangling a slice of cake he’d brought with him.
“Majin Buu?!” Poka’s voice cracked, her shock morphing into anger.
He cracked one eye open and gave her an infuriatingly calm glance. “Oh. You’re back,” he said, as if he lived there.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, stepping further into the house.
Buu casually shifted, sitting up but still lounging like he owned the place. “What does it look like? I’m staying here.”
“Staying?” Her fists clenched at her sides. “This is my house! You can’t just waltz in and claim it!”
“Why not?” he replied, unbothered. “It’s not like you’re doing much with it. Besides, your furniture is way more comfortable than the junk at my place.” He gestured around dismissively. “You should be thanking me for breaking in.”
“Thanking you?” she sputtered, her face flushing a deep gray. “You’ve got to be kidding!”
Buu leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. “Not at all. Think of it as payment for all the time I’ve wasted trying to train you. And before you argue—” He raised a finger to cut her off, “—yes, it’s a waste. I could be doing much better things with my time.”
Poka glared at him, her reserved nature pushed to its breaking point. “If it’s such a waste, why don’t you go back to your own house?”
He tilted his head thoughtfully, as if considering her suggestion. “Nah. Too small, too cramped, and not enough soft couches.” He patted the cushion beneath him. “You’ve got it good here, Poka.”
Her eye twitched. “You don’t even fit here! Look at you—your legs are hanging off the couch!”
“And yet, I’m comfortable,” he said with a smug grin, taking another bite of cake. “It’s your fault for having decent taste in furniture.”
Poka crossed her arms, trying to rein in her frustration. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re too uptight,” he shot back, smirking as he gestured to the chair across from him. “Why don’t you sit down and relax for once? Maybe have some cake. I brought plenty.”
Poka stared at him, her anger bubbling. “I don’t want cake.”
“Well, that’s your loss,” Buu replied, shrugging. “But I’m not going anywhere, so you might as well get used to it.”
She clenched her fists, her dark gray skin heating with frustration. “You think you can just take over my house because you feel like it?”
“Of course,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I’m Buu. I take what I want.”
“You’re unbelievable,” she muttered, turning away and pacing to the kitchen to gather her thoughts. The audacity of this man! He’d not only barged into her home but also dismissed her protests entirely. She couldn’t throw him out—he was too strong, too stubborn, and too... Buu.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t you,” she said sarcastically as she stormed back into the room, arms crossed.
“Thanks, I already did,” he said with a grin, shifting to lie back down on the couch. “You’re a gracious host, Poka.”
Her jaw tightened, and she knew she couldn’t win this battle—not today, anyway. She sighed heavily and sat in a chair across from him, glaring as he continued eating his cake, completely at ease.
“You’re cleaning up your crumbs,” she muttered, shooting him a warning look.
Buu chuckled, finishing his slice of cake. “We’ll see.”
As he lounged, smirking at her, Poka vowed to find a way to get rid of him—or at least make him regret thinking he could take over her house. For now, though, she had to endure his presence, his arrogance, and his infuriating ability to make himself comfortable anywhere.