Work Header


Chapter Text

He didn’t know why he let Nappa convince him into doing this. Vegeta was never one for strip clubs; he preferred his naked women - at least, he would've if he'd ever had any - in the privacy of his bedroom. Yet here he was front row at a high-class burlesque house as his “friends” acted like idiots.

The place reeked of tobacco and liquor as waitresses of all colors and shapes bustled around the crowded room. The smokey atmosphere created a sickly fog around the Saiyan Prince’s senses. If it wasn’t for the fact that coming here was the only way to silence his subordinates' mouths about him “never having a good time” he wouldn’t have come at all.

Kami knows how much Raditz already had thrown away from this month’s salary that Frieza just gave them to these women. Nappa too, but not quite to the extent of his more lustful comrade. Vegeta just sat with his arms crossed, tail wrapped around his waist tightly, as he waited for the night to end.

A booming voice over the sound system announced the night’s final act: “Put your hands together for Berry!” Lights dimmed around the house as the curtains rose gently.

The lights came up on a set with a dressing table and a chaise lounge. Sitting at the table, brushing her hair with her back to the audience, was a surprisingly beautiful woman with striking blue hair. Vegeta’s eyes roamed across her creamy skin; this was the first almost-Saiyan species woman he’d seen in years. His eyes couldn’t look away.

The music started up slow and steady, some bass drum beating in rhythm with a syncopated guitar. Then, with the flip of her long vibrant tresses, “Berry” turned around. Her body was covered from head to toe in pearls. At first, Vegeta thought she wore absolutely nothing before his eyes spotted a skin-colored baby doll under her myriad of necklaces. Diamonds studded her ears. Her toes, he saw, were painted in a crimson polish.

She looked like a queen. His rightful queen.


Bunches of men of all alien species crowded the front of the stage, throwing money in the air, desperately wanting to get her attention. Vegeta understood completely: the woman hadn’t even opened her mouth yet and the whole room was captivated. If he had less dignity he would’ve been right up there with them.

'Berry' stood slowly, running her hands over her body as she smiled at the crowd. Their eyes locked; she had the most captivating sky blue eyes Vegeta had ever seen. He could feel his suit get tighter below the waist.

Her lips gave a crooked grin as she started to lip sing to the music, never breaking his eye contact.

She started by taking off the elbow-length gloves on her arms. Sitting down on the red chaise, slowly removing her garments piece by piece, like a high-class woman preparing for a lover. Her movements weren’t rushed, but they were met with no lack of enthusiasm from the audience.

Vegeta found himself captivated, jealous of the pearls that could be around her neck. He wanted that closeness desperately as he watched 'Berry' swing her hips like a snake across the stage and rub her hands all over her delicious skin.

She still hasn’t broken eye contact. Her tongue flicked out, licking her ruby lips, as her eyes caressed Vegeta’s features. The blue orbs kept on him as “Berry” laid back on the chaise and ran her hands up and down her thighs, slowly pulling inching her baby doll higher up her waist. He could almost see her core, that delightfully juicy center between her legs whose scent intoxicated his senses. He longed to lap at those full breasts, which kept threatening to spill out of her nightwear while making her scream from his fingers. Her face was flushed pink, a cocky grin stretching across her face as she tortured Vegeta from just a few feet away.

As the final loop of the chorus played, 'Berry' stretched her legs high into the air. Her fingers swiftly removed a pair of red lace panties from her legs. She casually flung it into the crowd, right into Vegeta’s lap, before winking and sauntering through the back curtain and off stage.

He could vaguely hear Nappa and Raditz laughing and teasing him for catching the beautiful woman’s gift but he didn’t care. The Prince had a new task in mind: claim what was his.

Chapter Text

48 Hours Ago

“Raditz, I swear if you don’t hurry your lazy ass up...” Vegeta bellowed as he scoured the planet’s surface.

In a split second, the long-haired Saiyan answered his commanding officer - and the last remaining monarch of his race - with his location. About damn time, thought Vegeta irately.

The mudball, found by one of Freiza’s scouting operatives, had initially been marked for demolition. Fortunately for its inhabitants, the lizard sent in his favorite Saiyans to enact the purge. Miles upon miles of land lay covered in silver ore, something held in high value to the tyrant.

The young prince was honestly sick of these missions, especially when it led to nothing. Time away from Ginu, the base planet of military operations for the Cold empire, was just a further reminder that he had to go back eventually. When he was fresh out of his toddler years and under the thumb of Frieza, his planet was destroyed ‘by a meteor.’ Those few Saiyans remaining, who silently longed to spend their seldom given leave time in the crimson deserts of their home, were left as a go-to purge group. They were sent on the most violent, exhausting missions majority of the time and saw tiny reprieve. Yet when some of the planets that they were sent to demolish turned out to be useful, Vegeta was denied a source of venting his feelings of frustration.

The call had been made to Zarbon; the planet had value. They were to now reconvene back on Ginu within the next two days and report for their new assignment.

Same old, same old. Minus the blood bath.

Vegeta touched down in the middle of a grass field shaded in amethyst. He took his time walking up to the huddled group of bulky men, his fellow Saiyans, as they tore apart whatever unlucky beast Raditz had found in front of them. Nappa and Turles fought over the left hindquarters while Chaka chewed absentmindedly on a chunk of breast meat as his fingers flipped through the messages on his scouter. Raditz was adamantly chatting with four other shoulders about some club that just opened in Ginu’s east district. Vegeta just tuned them all out as he ripped off a leg of the hulking beast and walked off to eat his meal in solitude.

Though he was technically a Commander in Frieza’s army and supervised many soldiers, he always chose to be sent out with his kind. The pack mentality of his fellow race meant that a hermit, like himself, could act how they wished with little care or judgment. At least enough to be ‘friendly’ with each other. That didn’t mean that he had to dine with them, though.

The Prince of all Saiyans, with his blood-red cape bustling gently with the slight breeze, rested against a crouching tree and stared at the three suns in the sky. Fuck, he wished he was anywhere but here.


Vegeta smashed his alarm clock to pieces, grumbling a muddied curse. He sat up, running a tired and already peeved hand through his coarse hair. The thick smog of Ginu’s southern district seemed to seep into the thin walls of his apartment. Neon signs and the noise of the 3 a.m. traffic below appeared to give the disgruntled male an equally cheerful ‘good morning’ as his muscled form stood from his bed, efficiently fixed the bedding, and sleepily marched into the bathroom.

After reporting in to Zarbon, the Saiyans made it back to base with little hassle. Once in his home, Vegeta promptly face-planted his mattress and passed out. The television and computer he had bought himself upon first moving in, along with the minimal furniture decorating the pale space, went virtually untouched. Sleep was the most Vegeta did when he was back on base.

After finishing his typical routine and grabbing a nutrition bar from the kitchen cabinet - in which enough utensils for just one person was housed - Vegeta made his way to the gym on base.

This was his routine. Sleep. Train. Eat. Repeat.

Imagine his surprise, then, when Nappa messaged his scouter that evening, inviting Vegeta out to drinks at ‘that new club Raditz was talking about,’ and the Prince accepted.

Because, fuck, he wished he could be anywhere else but here.

Chapter Text

It was just as smokey as the last time he was in here. It felt like it’d been years, considering the back-and-forth he’d been doing recently - planet to planet, purge to purge - even though it had just been seven days. The layout had changed, with all of the tables and chairs moved to give what Vegeta assumed to be more walking room, yet a thick cloud of perfume and sweat hung about the space. The number of species and their various states of arousal made his nose itch constantly and made the fur in his tail stand on end. Yet he sat unmovably at the far end of the bar, untouched drink in front of him.

He didn’t know why he came back. Maybe it was a momentary lapse of lunacy, considering Vegeta despised establishments like this. It was just a girl. Bucey or Beatrice, wasn’t it? She was vulgar with her lack of proper attire and the way she narrowly showed every part of her skin to a room full of hungry barbarians in the most corrupt military planet under Freiza’s rule. He should be disgusted with her - and himself - for putting in such a display.

And yet...

Yet those eyes captivated him. That creamy skin with hardly a blemish, let alone a scar — the thickness of her thighs. The way her chest had gently drew in quick breaths as she danced, making those ripe breasts bounce gently. The way her blue locks framed that smirking face and those devilish eyes.

Vegeta swore under his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was a goddamn fool.

She hadn’t been out in the hour he’d sat there, but Vegeta stayed. None of the other acts drew his attention; tentacles and suction cups were hardly attractive, in his opinion. He couldn’t understand why the woman had captivated him so. True, his planet had been destroyed when he was just a pup, so he had no experience with his own race’s females. But there were few bipedal races across the cosmos. His men may consistently give in to their sexual urges whenever they make port, but that was never Vegeta. They tried to tell him, always to no avail and with a threatening scowl as an answer, that he needed to relax. Even if she didn’t have a tail, he wasn’t wrong or unfaithful to his stolen crown for wanting her. Right?

The war prince was so consumed in his thoughts that the announcement overhead about the dancers coming out with ‘special invitations’ for the audience didn’t fully register. Neither did the hands casually brushing against his back or flirtatious glances from said-dancers as they moved about the room. What did, though, was the sudden flash of blue right in front of his drink.

Hair, like silk. It waved and curled gently across the dark wood counter and shone brilliantly under the lamplight.

Vegeta looked up and had to fight for his self-control. She was here! Right in front of him! Berry - that was her name, he remembered - was lying down across the bar, batting her eyes at him. A shimmer blue dress, almost precisely matching the shade of her hair, hugged her curves as she kicked her legs up in the air. No tights, just long stretches of that pale skin and some strappy tan heels. The most impractical battle attire he’d ever seen but fuck, she pulled it off.

“Hey there, soldier,” she cooed in an accent Vegeta didn’t recognize. Her voice was musical and flexible like she could easily change her pitch with little to no effort. The woman gave a ruby, lipped smile as her eyes combed his uniform. “Come here often?”

He gave a curt shake of his head, looking over the beauty in front of him. Small beads of sweat began to build on the back of his neck. When her fingers reached out and brushed against his, he felt a shiver run down into his pelvis. She smelt fruity and foreign like they should be lounging on a beach somewhere and not sitting in the middle of a wanna-be brothel.

She grinned. “I thought not. Well, do you want my card?”

His brow furrowed in confusion. Did he miss something?

Berry giggled and handed him a small card. “The cam show? They’ve been making announcements about it all night?” He just stared at her, unable to form words. What the hell was wrong with him?! You’d like he had no brain cells with the way he was acting right now. Is he that distracted by the opposite sex?

No. Just her.

She ever patiently gave a small smile and rolled on to her stomach. Vegeta couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over her ripe backside and up her legs. Something in him roared for him to touch her. He just clenched his fists until the knuckles went white, watching her every movement. Berry leaned in close, her lips almost touching his, and whispered, “I hope to see you soon, then.” Those pools of blue stared into his eyes, twinkling with mischief before she hopped off the counter and walked away. And with that, she was gone.


He slammed the front door closed and slumped down on the couch. Outside it was still dark, having barely turned past midnight, and he could again hear the city bustling below. The card Berry had slipped into his breast pocket seemed to burn through the fabric into his chest.

Vegeta didn’t know when he fell asleep, but there was less loathing than usual on his mind when he did. And instead of blood and gore and screaming accompanying him in his dreams, everything was a brilliant shade of blue.

Chapter Text


“Pack your shit and go!” Freiza snarled as he threw Vegeta head first out into the hallway. The purple lizard had filled the air with electricity, the sheer immensity of his power seeming to even increase the gravity of the area. Teeth bared. Red eyes blazing before the rest of his face settled into a bored frown. “Get the fuck out of my sight, you filthy monkey.”


The prince knew after all of these years to stay still until the tyrant disappeared back into his throne room, no matter how much he had to fight it. Grinding his teeth in defiance Vegeta stood once the coast was clear, brushed the dirt off of his uniform, and stalked towards the training grounds to gather his men. Another day, another purge. 


They were being sent to Vosie U77 to ‘negotiate’ joining Freiza’s empire. In other words, the Saiyans were being sent to purge a planet unless they were willing to negotiate being under the lizard’s rule. Otherwise the planet would be stripped of its resources and all living creatures would be forced into servitude, if not killed, under the Cold’s rule. To Vegeta, it was three months trapped with the last remaining subjects of his race with little-to-know patience on the matter.


Within the next two hours, everyone had climbed aboard one of the larger pods in Frieza’s fleet and set off for Vosie U77’s solar system. As soon as he was on board the vessel - which was capable of housing his usual crew along with the troops necessary to strip the planet, medical facilities, and a limited supply of technicians and cooks - Vegeta stormed his way to his quarters and locked the door. The less time he had to spend with their antics (especially Raditz’s) the better. 


His space on the ship was for necessity only. A reasonably sized bed, a stiff couch, dresser with additional uniforms, small bathroom, and equally small kitchenette. It was a reprieve from his companions, if not himself. Vegeta kicked off his boots, stripped down to his training shorts, and plopped down on the couch. An aggravated hand scratched his scalp roughly. His tail thumped lazily on the seat cushion. 


He stared at the card which had taken a seemingly permanent residence in the breast pocket of his now-crumpled uniform in the hamper. Light dust had begun to form around the edges. Considering it had been over two months since he got it, Vegeta was surprised it lasted this long. 


After that night at the club, Vegeta had tried to forget about 'Berry.' He was a creature of routine - being a solider in Freiza's army had demanded such - so he returned to his regular habits.


Wake. Shower. Train. Purge. Eat. Sleep.


It wasn't working anymore, though. The tiny bit of peace he'd get from collecting planets for the tyrant no longer helped. Performing endless katas and beating the ever-loving shit out of his team rarely granted his mind peace. His appetite waned, for everything was bland.


Vegeta despised whatever weakness this was. It invaded his mind and body endlessly, putting him on constant edge and in the most horrendous of moods. The Saiyan was never a happy person in the first place. Nevertheless, something felt wrong. Going to that club seemed to have started it.


So, for the moment, he glared at his issued uniform and the card within it. He was willing himself to have self-control. To train for the millionth time and make himself return to routine. Hating himself for even considering the thought of indulging in such carnal pursuits.


He picked up the card and grabbed his scouter, turning it on.



The website was like a hub of smut. Videos upon videos of females across the solar system, all different races and genetic makeup, putting their goods on for display. All for a price, of course. Vegeta growled to himself, and he scrolled irritatedly through the contents. He was a fool for disgracing his issued scouter with this filth. Where was his self-control...


He didn't particularly care about the answer to that question once he found 'Berry's' page. Offline, the status said, so no live video right now. She was a lady, according to her profile. Various photos had her posed on chaise lounges or in different stages of undress while wearing regal gowns or expensive jewelry. One had her eating some kind of red fruit covered in whipped cream sensually. Another - that Vegeta was frustrated to admit sent a wave of arousal through his core - had her in a sheer robe in front of a four-poster bed. The scene looked irritatingly familiar. 


He threw off the scouter, disgruntled, and headed to bed. This was a waste of time. He was royalty, for fuck's sake. He shouldn't lower himself to such depths as to contemplate spending his hard-earned money on some scandalous female. Frieza hardly gave them enough of a pay allowance already. 



She was lying on his bed, draped in those red silk sheets again. Her pale skin in stark contrast to the crimson surrounding her and the diamonds dripping down her neck. The only light brushing against her skin was from the fireplace across the room, the flames licking across her body just like he had every intention of doing. Those blue eyes beckoned him. That voice begged her prince to take her, to make her feel pleasure like no other.


And he did just that.


Vegeta kissed and licked down her neck, sending shivers down the blue beauty's spine. Every caress from his lips made her weaker until she could hardly move from how sensitive her skin had become. He took those breasts into his hands - fuck, they felt so soft and full - and teased her nipples with his teeth. She quaked and begged underneath him, begging him not to stop. For hours, it seemed, he lapped at her chest. Every movement elicited lust-filled giggles and hungry moans from his woman's throat.


And damn right, she was his woman — all his.


When he tired of worshipping her breasts, Vegeta let his tongue worship the valley between her legs — licking and sucking every centimeter of her being, covering his face in her arousal, making her scream over and over from his ministrations. Again and again, the beauty pled that she'd 'be his good girl, his loving mate' if he made her cum. And every word she screamed made him made with desire, sending shocks of firey need right down his spine.


He took her repeatedly, burying his thick cock inside of her. She squealed and moaned, sometimes purposely squeezing her walls tighter around him with a playful giggle. In return, he growled and pounded her even harder. Her fingertips dug deep scratches up and down his back. His teeth and lips left dark kisses across that pale skin. Her tiny hands wrapped around the base of his tail and gently tugged, sending Vegeta into a roaring fury of rutting. He bent and twisted their bodies every way he wanted - and she begged - until they fell into a sweaty pile on his sheets.


The fire still blazed in the corner of the room. The moons of his home, of Vegetasi, shone brilliantly outside of the balcony doors. His beauty, his future queen, ran her fingers through his coarse black hair while whispering sweet words of praise and love as he drifted to sleep. “My prince,” she cooed. “My sweet prince...”



Vegeta's eyes opened. With a growl of embarrassment and frustration, he ripped the soiled sheets of his bed off and threw them in the hamper. A cold shower was much needed today. 


Chapter Text

The smell of burning hair first thing in the morning was one of Vegeta's least favorite scents. It wasn't because of the bodies that hair was attached to. He could give less of a shit about who was stupid enough to try and fight him during a purge. It was the memories that came attached to the scent that ate away at him.


Zarbon giggling sickeningly to himself while singeing the fur on Vegeta's tail. His whole body weighted down and unable to stop the onslaught...


Cauterizing a wound on his thigh back on his first purge as a toddler. The tears stung his eyes, yet he refused to let them fall in front of his fellow soldiers...


Freiza pinning him to the dungeon floors and branding the Saiyan prince with a hot iron. His vocal cords ached to scream out his rage, yet Vegeta had lain there, helpless and vengeful, thankful his eyes were too swollen shut to see the smug grin on that purple son of a bitch...


The hair this morning was coming from a small body. Maybe a child, but who knows anymore. Vegeta could see blackened flesh that half desired to melt into the ground beneath it, and half wanted to crack under the oppressive sun's heat. The fields around it that had once been green and lush beneath a sherbet sky now danced in flames.


Typically only the populace would be slaughtered upon their landing. A smart race, such as this one, would attack their pods on sight, and every Saiyan would unleash a fury of blasts. They'd cackle at the glory of battle, defeat their foes, eat the remains, and move on to the next assignment.


This time, though, they were too smart. After leaving the main ship in their pods, Vegeta crashed on to the planet's crust along with the pods holding Nappa and Raditz. The others were shot down by land-based laser cannons, dead upon impact. Not an atom was left behind to bury.


Despite having never really cared for his men, Vegeta felt the failure stab him through the heart when he watched each pod pop into a cloud of grey and red mist in the planet's atmosphere. These were his citizens he saw - needed - to protect. Though a few were older than he and took a hand in raising the young monarch onboard Freiza's fleet, they worshipped him as their king. Their only connection to the home they were so proud to have known. The culture and people they all mourned together in their stoic, unfeeling way upon hearing of its destruction.


It was his fault.


So the rage ensued. Vegeta's body pulsed with a fury of golden energy, and he ran forth to lay waste to their planet and make civilization his bitch. He fired was a purpose, filled with the fury of his people. Those who had been murdered by that Cold piece of shit he was forced to serve. His men who had died, one of the last remnants of his endangered race. His crown. His mother. His father. His life...


His hands ripped limbs from torsos. His teeth gnashed and tore snew from the bone. The flame-haired demon laid waste to anything and everything in his path until he collapsed from exhaustion.


And that's where he stood now — leaning against a burning tree, the ash of what used to be the local capital swirling through the air around them. Buildings burned and tumbled. The Saiyan prince's skin covered in a crimson blanket of blood and gore, his limbs trembling from exertion and bloodlust that had yet to be satisfied.


Somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, where his sanity may have once resided, he thought of the color blue. That electric blue that pierced his body and shot off into the stars every time he thought of her. The need to see her again sitting nauseously in the pit of his stomach.


It was like the thought of her rose out of the carnage below. A terrifying and seductive goddess walking across the ground, uncaring of the dead at her feet, those blue orbs trained only on him. She smiles, her hands rubbing across that thick chest and down her equally juicy thighs, as she silently gets on her knees at Vegeta’s feet. 


His breath hitched. His eyes resisted the urge to close from the pleasure of it. 


Somewhere his conscious tried to convince him that it was just a dream, some part of his mind had snapped and started hallucinating that witch woman was here with her mouth around his cock. It tried convincing him that it wasn’t the wetness of her mouth surrounding him, licking and sucking his thickness until his mind was filled with nothing but pleasure and the need to finish. Surely it was just his hand covered in who-knows-what from his purge and he was just imagining it. 


But he didn’t care. Vegeta didn’t care about anything anymore other than to let this blue-haired succubus drain him of every last drop of his cum. 


The heat building in the pit of his stomach rose, burning oh so sweetly like the fires around him. 


So close.

Fucking shit, yes. 

Right. There


He let out a deep growl, a hand reaching out to steady himself against the tree as the after shocks of his orgasm raced through him. But when he looked down at where ‘Berry’ was supposed to be - on her knees, covered in his cum - she was gone. But his hand was a mess. 




With a resigned sigh, Vegeta slumped down the tree and sat at its roots. A little bit of ki and the mess he’d made of his hand was fixed. Something felt wrong about what had just transpired but it didn’t matter anymore. Regardless of how he tried to stay away, she kept coming back. 


Fine, he thought to himself as Vegeta stared off towards the horizon. He'll see her again.

Chapter Text

She pulled him on stage, the spotlight shining down on them.


All he wanted to do was see her again. To watch the show and get a glimpse of her. Maybe catch her eye. As soon as they landed back on Gine, Vegeta wanted to rush to the club. The cam show was out of the question - he wasn’t a coward, just unsure about reaching out through such a sleazy service - so there was no other way to see her face. But no, Raditz and Nappa wanted to sit in the FRONT again. And for some reason that meant he was fair game to PULL ON STAGE.


The place had been packed to the brim and seeming to be drenched in crimson, from the lighting to the fabric stung from the ceiling. Whoever was in charge seemed to really go all out for promoting their ‘talent’ as high class with a raunchy twist.


Vegeta barely registered the master of ceremonies announcing that ‘Berry’ would be selecting a dance partner from the audience. All he knew was when those brilliant blues landed on him, it was significantly harder to draw in a breath.


He resisted the urge to rip her arm off when ‘Berry’ pulled him up the stage steps and pushed him down in a seat unexpectedly. His crew - the last two Saiyans of his race besides himself - whooped and teased him from the audience below. The prudish, virgin Prince was going to get a lap dance? What a world this is coming to!


“I was hoping you’d come back,” she drawled coyly as she pushed Vegeta down into a chair center stage. His eyes hungrily took in her appearance despite his lips thinning into a grim line. She wore a white suit jacket and skirt, both clinging to her form and seeming to highlight that brilliant plumage on her head even more than usual. Her hair was held in tight pin curls underneath what looked to be some kind of captain’s cap. A cream garter belt peaked out from under the skirt’s hemline. Nude heels of a ridiculous height seemed to make her legs go on for days.


Those sky blue eyes twinkled seductively as the bass dropped and 'Berry's' hands ripped open her top, popping the minuscule buttons in every direction, revealing a crimson lace bra underneath. Vegeta's eyes seemed to bug out of their sockets as she straddled his thigh and proceed to grind against him. Those creamy breasts bounced gently right before his eyes, seeming to overflow and strain against the feeble fabric.


It was like she was using his body like a pole: she flipped and twisted her form across his front of his face...all encouraged by the cheers and whoops from everyone watching. His face flushed crimson as he listened to the vulgarity of the lyrics and shamefully ran through all of the things he wanted to do to the female on top of him.


He almost embarrassed himself even further when 'Berry' decided to grind that juicy ass right on his crotch. An inferno seemed to erupt from his loins and Vegeta had to strain to keep control of himself.


She's attractive, okay? But you don't cum all over someone after one conversation and a lap dance...if she even recognizes you!


The woman seemed very aware of the effect she was having on the Saiyan; her grin was a little wider and cockier when she turned back around. "Mmm, big boy, huh?" she cooed in that accent of hers. Her fingers tugged at his uniform, playfully rubbing down his pectorals to his stomach. A strong waft of arousal - fruity and feminine and alluring - seemed to seep out of her skin and into his nose. "You can totally touch me, you know?"


Vegeta hissed through his teeth, his eyes growing blacker from the fire raging inside of them. His knuckles grew white from gripping chair beneath him. He gave a subtle shake of his head, willing every fiber of his being to not bend 'Berry' over and bury himself inside of her.


Out of the corner of his eye, he could see hazily Raditiz whooping like a tool at the display. Whatever else he was saying Vegeta didn't register. The world seemed to be getting dimmer the longer this torture dragged on. A small whimper escaped his lips when 'Berry' jerked his head back and wrapped her tiny fingers around his throat.


Holy fuck.


Vegeta's eyes threatened to roll back in skull, his resolve hanging on by the thinnest of threads.


"Oh, someone likes that," she teased, those eyes seeming to bore right into his soul. She continued to grind on his trembling lower half, her grip tightening. Vegeta could hear the faintest gasps and moans as ‘Berry’ rubbed her body against his.


She wants me.


And he loved it. He wanted it to last forever. If torture was like this under Freiza’s rule, he’d be far more willing to endure it. Even if it meant embarrassing himself in front of a whole crowd. He could always just kill them later, right?


Suddenly, she wasn't touching him anymore. The crowd seemed to be growing louder as Vegeta's senses returned. 'Berry' was taking a bow, the curtain closing. She blew him a kiss, giving him a devilish smile, before disappearing with the rest of the dancers.


He let out an uneasy breath, his cock screaming from the confines of his uniform. What the hell did he get himself into?

Chapter Text

The curtains closed behind her, leaving the cheers and whoops of those watching behind. With heels clicking, the blue haired beauty made her way to the dressing rooms. Females of various colors, species, and limb amounts passed her by. 

“Great job tonight, B,” spoke the stage manager as he moved by, giving a quick shoulder pat. “Your check’s on your bag!”


She continued her way down the hall, into the body-crammed dressing room, and sat at her station. Mindless chatter swirled around her as eye shadow was applied, body glitter spread, padding added, and spirit gum stuck on. But she just sat in the rickety chair and started to remove the swill covering her naturally beautiful features. 


Locks fell down from their tight pin curls, bobby pins collecting themselves into a small jar tucked neatly in her makeup bag. Ruby lips washed away. Sparkling blue eyes continued to shine, perhaps with more irritation and exhaustion than coy desire. The crimson red bra and panties stayed on beneath a loose tshirt and jeans. Black boots traded out for heels. Her work space quickly shrunk inside of a small pill, which was quickly tucked into her pocket. After a quick scan and a resounding beep from her communitor’s camera, the check for this week’s pay was quickly torn apart and dumped in the nearest bin. No one noticed as that blue headed female walked out of the club’s back entrance and made its way to the ship port. 


Her feet carried her down a familiar route: past the red light district, through the soldier’s baracks, onboard the largest purging ship docked, and through the twisting corridors to the lab. Being the middle of the night, not a soul was passed in the halls though the luminescent lighting made one feel as if they’d pass someone any moment. She didn’t care, though. Just walked into the lab, which so happened to also be her private quarters. 

Normally Frieza would never allow a creature of her intelligence to be left alone. Yet when a former prodigy heiress sets the bar high for turning out useful inventions while those who join her departments prove to do nothing but slow down her work, they find themselves quickly dispatched on a daily basis. So she locked the door to the lab and made herself comfortable among the wreckage of robotic parts and wires. 


The shirt and jeans were tossed away. A white robe concealed her assets easily. 

On went a computer near her workstation yet somehow in the cleanest part of the room. A camera and microphone positioned towards her showed a white wall behind her and not much else. 


Deep breath. Smile. Click. 


Berry is now live



Vegeta watched on silently as the video feed came in through his scouter. His discarded chest plate and cape lay sprawled on the floor, though his boots were still firmly strapped on to combat the casualness of the evening, as he watched ‘Berry’s’ live show. 


It seemed like the room was a free lobby - a test run to see if you wanted to pay for services. He didn't turn on his mic. Like it felt safer to hide behind a series of typed messages instead of letting her hear what effect she had on him. Or see what she did to him...


Vegeta hard started going on 'Berry's' chat page every few days since the first time. Despite his shameful lack of control after the first encounter, he found himself drawn back to those photos again and again. 


Then she put up a video. One of her lounging on that red chaise from her show. The camera moved slowly up and down her body, which had been covered in diamonds and silk. Just like his dream. 


He couldn't help himself. One moment Vegeta was looking the beauty over and the next he was palming his cock, furiously pumping it. Once he realized what was happening, he quickly closed the web page and launched himself into a series of pushups. His body didn't stop straining itself until the irritating appendage had gone limp.


After tonight though...


Being at the club and seeing her in front of him, feeling her body on top of his, seemed to be the deciding factor. Though his mind couldn’t completely understand his growing obsession with the female, Vegeta found himself integrating her presence into his routine. 


Sleep. Shower. Eat. Train. ‘Berry’. Repeat. 


He hated how natural it felt to have a female to ‘come home to’ after a purge. Or how right it seemed to hole himself in his quarters on the purge ships, a time he would normally spend for steadfast meditation or continuing his training, and watch her new videos for the day. 


There was a playfulness behind those bright eyes. A myriad of secrets a part of his being yearned to unmask. 


And - fuck - if he didn’t want to uncover every atom of this new weakness of his. To destroy or embrace himself in it, he didn’t know. 


This, however, was Vegeta’s first time logging on to the live chat. Still semi-hard from their encounter only just an hour prior, he tried not to dwell on how easily his instincts led him home and his fingers easily flipped open her page. He just wanted to see her again.


Berry is now live



That blue haired vixen sat on a stool in front of a blank wall, clad in some kind of white jacket. A lab coat? Her hair was tossed back in a lazy bun, multitudes of blue curls spilling over. His eyes followed one down as it journeyed past her neck to her shoulder. A long line of cleavage peaked from between the folds  He wondered what she had on underneath, maybe that red brassiere she wore tonight, and his fingers itched to find out. 


She smiled broadly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Hello, boys,” she cooed. Her bare legs crossed one over the other. Feet we unclad. What species puts color on the ends of their toes? Vegeta didn’t see the sense in it, though his heart lurched at seeing the navy blue tint. 


What is it with this woman wearing Saiyan colors?


Messages from others watching the video - in the thousands, he noticed with wide eyes - began whizzing by his left eye piece. 


BEGESH10: How’s it going, sexy thang?


Y67KLA: I wanna see your ass, mama


The woman giggled and chatted with those talking to her. She played coy, he noticed, and didn’t show much more skin than she already was. If it was any other line of work, Vegeta would peg her for an intelligent business woman. For now, he was just trying to build up the nerve to see her one-on-one. 


The service of the webpage seemed to offer group paid rooms, where you can watch the women do whatever they pleased with audience requests, and private rooms. ‘Berry’s’ price for the private room was steep for those not working in high rank for Frieza’s services. Fortunately, that wasn’t an issue for Vegeta; until now he’d hardly spent any of the funds from his pay as a purge captain so he’d amassed a small fortune. He’d never been one to spend his earnings on women and booze, like Nappa and Raditz. Until now, that is. 

Just as he was beginning to talk himself into leaving the chat, the woman’s mood shifted.


While Vegeta hadn’t been paying attention to the words whizzing by, he could now see one of the room member’s had been trying to convince her to give a ‘free show’ without paying. 


BIGD8DDY9: What a fucking cunt

BIGD8DDY9: Waste of money

BIGD8DDY9: What kind of service expects you to PAY to get off

BIGD8DDY9: This stingy bitch probably pads 


BIGD8DDY9: Dumb ass skank would be lucky to swallow this cock, stupid bitch

BIGD8DDY9: These weak ass pussies are stupid for throwing their cash at a second-galaxy whore that never puts out


“Alright listen here you backwater planet, redneck motherfucker,” ‘Berry’ spat, eyes blazing. “I’m not one of those newbie cam girls you can bully into flashing my goods. Especially for a weak minded, incest-fermented cunt waffle like your ass is. I could rip your brain and ass in half with the skills I’ve got, and that’s not even including my good looks. Take your slimy self and your inverted dick elsewhere, you self-righteous pee stick. The only eye full you’re getting tonight is this.” She stuck up the middle finger of her right hand with a cheeky grin. “Now, if you’d kindly fuck off out of my lobby, I’d greatly appreciate it. I don’t ‘put out’ for egotistical fuckwads that don’t treat a lady like the gem she is or hold less intelligible communication skills than a fern.”


Vegeta’s eyes widened. The chat erupted with mocking jeers and furious patrons. 


THEPRINCE has requested a private room

Chapter Text

What the hell was he doing here?!

Vegeta knew precisely what he was doing here. He signed up for a room with that woman - alone - because she ripped some jackass a new one in her free chat.

He didn't want to admit to himself how turned he was from that.

Nappa had told him, in not so informative words, that Saiyan women were brutal in every way possible. If a woman was angry with you, you were doing something right. True, Saiyans left sexual activities for successfully procreating, but still...anger was hot. Hatred ran through his noble race’s veins.

So how pathetic of a weakling did that make Vegeta that some bi-pedal female that looked 90% Saiyan - at least, in all the places he could see - effected him this much.

He didn't want to dwell on that thought.

”Hello?” the woman called impatiently from the other side of the screen. Her face was still flushed from her outburst, the faint red color trickling down to her neck.

Vegeta breathed shakily, struggling to figure out his next step. He's in a private room with the woman. Even if she's not physically here, it's just the two of them. Curse his need for endless solitude and lack of experience speaking to the opposite sex. For once in his lifetime, the young Saiyan wished he was Raditz. Or, at least, had his charisma.

She tilted her head like she was trying to look through the camera to find him. A gentle smile was on her face, though eyes spit annoyance. ”I can hear you breathing. You there? Your camera’s not on.”

His eyes went wide. Vegeta’s heart stopped. The microphone was on?!

Quickly, he cleared his throat and struggled to come up with something to say.

Say something clever. Something smooth.

”Uh, hi.”


”Hey there, ” she cooed. Her leg swung absentmindedly from her seat. ”Watcha doing,  prince?”

Fuck, that was his username! How long had he been waiting to hear her say his title? Since he had that dream all those months ago if he was honest with himself. “Sitting,” he spoke. “Watching you.”

“Mmm, fun. Are you really a prince?” The woman rubbed the side of her neck subconsciously, the shoulder of her coat dipping low.

”Yes, I am.” Vegeta found himself watching her every movement, his mind struggling to stay engaged.

She feigned surprise, her eyes going wide. ”Oh, I'm in the presence of royalty! I'm so honored.”

He frowned. That initial spark she showed from screaming at that guy only a few minutes before seemed to dissipate, a mask popping up in its place.

Bring her back.

He heard himself say, ”I saw your show tonight and thought I'd see if you were as enticing as you portrayed yourself to be. I guess that was all an act.”

She gasped, irritation spreading across her features. Her eyes seemed to pierce through the camera lens, digging into his soul. ”You don’t know the half of it, buster. I’m more of a woman than you could ever handle.”

His tail thumped excitedly against the seat of the couch. “Oh? Perhaps you'll be willing to enlighten me. What makes you so special, woman?”

’Berry’ chuckled, staring him down with an arrogant smile. ”Aside from being the most beautiful woman in the universe - and believe me, princey, I am - I also happen to be the most intelligent being to have ever been created. There isn't a damn thing in existence that I can't build or breakthrough. It comes with being a prodigy who happened to earn three of her seven doctorates by the age of 14. Not to mention, I'm unbelievably sexy and proud of it. And if you did come to my show, you'd be well aware of what I can do to make a man beg. Even before taking any clothes off or touching him. You'd be lucky to be underneath me right now.”

Vegeta couldn't help but groan at the woman’s defiance, shivers of pleasure running down his spine. His hand subconsciously palmed himself through his pants. Throughout her tirade, he’d found it difficult to.keep his eyes open but didn't want to look away from those fiery blue orbs either. Thank the gods he was watching through his scouter; she was still right in front of him even though his head was angled towards the ceiling.

Fuck, I'm going to bust

”Now, ” she continued. ”You’re lucky that you have such a sexy voice. Otherwise, I'd have to disconnect the chat. But from over here, those half attempts at pissing me off sound like flirting.” Vegeta’s breath caught. Curses, why did she have to look like she was looking right at him?! ”Am I wrong?”

He scoffed, struggling to find his voice. ”I don't know what you're talking about.” What he tried to make a convincing voice came out has a half-whisper with a more than a hint of lust.

She chuckled and shrugged the rest of her coat off, revealing that creamy skin underneath. Shit, she was still wearing that red bra from the show tonight.

He heard a growl let lose from his throat, half registering he’s the one who made the sound.

’Berry’s’ mouth shaped itself into an ’o,’ her body shivering slightly. ”Fuck, princey. Keep those noises up, and I might get turned on.” She winked an eye at him, her arms squeezing themselves together. Those plump breasts popped up at the motion, borderline bursting out of the thin material surrounding them.

He couldn't stop himself. Vegeta pulled himself out of the suit, palming his throbbing cock with one calloused hand. The thought of her on top of him, grinding into his erection, like she had been tonight made him moan again.

A cloud of desire came over the female’s eyes. ”Do you like this?” she asked in a sultry voice as her hands came down to squeeze her breasts. A tiny gasp and moan fluttered out of her mouth at the contact.

Vegeta found himself nodding before he realized the woman couldn't see him. ”Yes, ” he choked out.

She giggled again naughtily, her fingers running over her skin. ”Tell me what you want.”

He grunted softly, pumping his dick furiously. His mind instantly filled with a million dirty things he’d love to do to her, that he’d want her to do for him. But he wasn't going to last long at this rate. Even just the female talking got him riled up. ”J-just talk, ” he gasped, the pressure building. ”Keep talking.”

Her smile grew wider. ”You know that guy I pulled on stage tonight? I want you to imagine that it was you. Only instead of just a lap dance, I'm bouncing up and down on your cock. Ramming that thick, yummy dick inside of myself over and over again. Does that sound fun, my Prince?”

His eyes rolled to the back of his skull. Vegeta let out a loud growl, cumming all over his hand and legs. He breathed heavily, the memory of the woman on top of him still vivid in his mind.

”Mmm, did you cum for me?” she asked innocently through his scouter.

Vegeta found himself smiling, despite the part of his mind now nagging about a mess to clean. ”Yes, woman.”

’Berry’ pouted. ”Awww, well, I guess there's always next time.”

”For what?”

”For showing you more than just my breasts.” She blew a kiss to the camera. ”Bye-bye, cutie.” And like that, she was gone.

Vegeta removed his scouter, still staring up at the ceiling. His hands were starting to feel sticky.


Chapter Text

The woman awoke with a start; someone was pounding on the lab doors. She quickly began to dress, her hair disheveled as her fingers rapidly buttoned up her lab coat.

As soon as she stepped out from her makeshift sleeping area, the door opened abruptly. Zarbon, who's pretty-boy features certainly didn't match the nasty attitude that always seemed to linger around, stormed in with two bodies slung on his shoulder. His eyes held menace as he snarled, ”What took you so long? I had to override the door myself.”

She stayed silent, knowing any reasonable answer she gave would be futile. The woman with blue curls waiting patiently as the green man tossed the men - plus another that had been out in the hall, still - on her examination tables.

”These three are to receive tracking chips, ” he explained casually. He washed his airy hands at the sink. The water ran red down the drain. ”Afterwards, they are to be put in the regeneration tanks.”

She gave the nod, looking ahead but focusing her eyes on nothing in particular. Her hands stayed clasped together while her eyes made no contact with his.

Once he’d left the room, she set to work.

Door locked.

Sterile tools place.

Anesthesia is given.

Bodies strapped to the tables.

Headlamps turned on.

The woman took care of the larger males quickly, given an extra dose of sedative after determining their race. The chips were meant to be installed at the top of the spinal column, below the brain. Though Freiza would have preferred they be embedded directly in mind, she would instead not run the risk of making brain-dead soldiers. Once completed, she pressed a button on her wristband. Four small bots appeared and carried the Saiyans to the regen tanks at the far end of the room.

When she came to the last male, she stopped. His features were sharp and harsh, a large stock of black hair sticking straight up from his head. Prominent widow’s peak. Thick brows. His forehead held dark crease lines like he spent the majority of his day with a permanent frown. After cleaning his body, she found a litany of scars decorated the skin of a well-defined chest.

Yet, his face looked relaxed, somewhat. Like this was the most rest he’d gotten in a while.

Cute. He was handsome, actually. And familiar, somehow. Flashes of familiar faces from long ago flickered through the woman’s mind, threatening tears to spill over.

She shook her head quickly. A hand placed a stray blue curl behind her ear as her feet carried her back into the sleeping area. Without a second thought, she ordered the bots to put him in the regen tank.

A bag was grabbed. She walked out of the lab, leaving the door unlocked for when the Saiyans awoke.

No tracking chip was added.



Chapter Text

“Hello princey,” ‘Berry’ cooed, leaning close to the camera. The purple baby doll she was wearing seemed to do nothing but offer that creamy skin up in a silver platter for him. “I thought you were never going to come back.”

Vegeta gave a smug smirk in the dark, his hands already pulling down his shorts as he lifted his hips off of the mattress. The dim light of the woman through his scouter was all he had to see as he fisted his half-hard member. All he could dream about in that damn regeneration tank Zarbon stuffed him into was her. He needed her. He deftly ignored, however, the part of his mind that whispered it was more than that. “Miss me, did you?”

“Mmm, a little.” Her fingers toyed with the top hem of her bodice. “Want to see a little more today?”

He gave a grunt of approval, those onyx eyes already captivated with the teasing show his woman was putting on for him.




As Raditz and Nappa shot off the planet in their pods, Vegeta brought his to a halt just outside of its gravitational pull. He took in a deep breath before opening the door and letting himself be consumed by the vacuum of space.

It was quiet out here. Peaceful. The amethyst planet below seemed so insignificant in comparison to the blackness surrounding it.

A bloodthirsty grin overtook the prince’s face as he held up a hand, gathering a fiery ball of chi, and unleashed it upon the surface below.

It could almost hear the screams beneath him as the energy drove under the planet’s crust and detonated the core within.

When Vegeta returned to his pod, heaving, Hilos had been reduced to ash entirely. Particles of the lost civilization floated by meagerly as the Saiyan cackled in wild, exhausted amusement.



Holy shit, I’m close

Vegeta let out a quiet groan, forcing his eyes to stay open as he took in his woman’s form. She was on her knees on that chaise from her photos, hand between her legs. Though he couldn’t see her core, as a pair of black silk panties blocked his view, he could make out her fingers moving in tiny circles beneath the fabric. Another manicured hand reached up to cup one of her breasts. It overflowed out of her fingers as they squeezed and searched. ‘Berry’ let out a whimper as she deftly spread the skin surrounding her nipple apart and used the rough side of her index finger to flick quickly across it.

He tried not to focus on how good she seemed at doing that. Instead, Vegeta said huskily as he pumped his cock in time with her hand, “I want you... to imagine how good my tongue feels on you...lapping your skin...ngh...bringing you close to the edge...”

She gasped, her body shivering and moaning. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Her fingers circled faster, those hips desperately arching up to meet her movements. “Oh, your tongue feels so good. Mmm, my prince, please...”




“Please, my prince! Mercy!” the whimpering two-foot-tall spiked king begged as Vegeta’s hard constricted around his throat.

“You should have thought Freiza’s offer was merciful.” He gave a dark grin, those normally white fangs dripping with blood.

The weaker alien let out a bloodcurdling scream as he was torn limb from limb.




Vegeta stood in the back corner of the club, scowling. He’d come to see her, his woman, and yet he couldn’t believe the spectacle before him:

Some tall idiot had been pulled on stage and had ‘Berry’ on top of him. His mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening as his eyes took in the scene. Her skin was almost completely bare. Cheeks flushed. A wicked grin. Those filthy hands grabbing at her body. Little scratches across her skin from where too-sharp nails had pricked her. A prickish grin adorning that slimy green face. There was a palpable hate in those blue eyes Vegeta adored so as her hand was swatted away from touching the fucktard’s braid.

All he could hear within his mind was a singular phrase: mine. His woman. His skin to caress. His lips to kiss...





“Picture me underneath you right now...” The woman had positioned the camera above her relaxed form as she lounged on a bed, the sheets selectively covering where Vegeta wanted to see her most. Those lips were bitten red, cheeks flushed. “What would you do to me, my prince?”

He groaned, leaning his forehead against the wall as his hips moved his cock in and out of his hand. On his hands and knees, Vegeta could almost imagine what it’d be like to be on top of her right now. Shit, he was so close to feeling it he could taste it.

Just like that...take her...fuck...

He watched through hooded eyes as ‘Berry’ rubbed her inner thighs, barely edging the fabric up enough to let him see her core. Vegeta often dreamed what she looked like...maybe dark like her nipples were, a color to compliment the neon brightness of her hair.

She moaned, spreading her arousal - fuck, she was always so wet for him - down her legs. “Are you close for me?”

Vegeta nodded vigorously. “Uh huh,” he moaned, pistoning his hips faster into his hand. Images flickered through his mind as he watched his woman tease him through the scouter...

Zarbon was backed into a corner of the alley, completely taken off guard. Blood from his face and body ran through his fingertips as he put up a pitiful hand. Through swollen lips he snarled, “You’ll never get away with this, monkey”.

Vegeta stood crouched over him, the Ozoru within his peaking through his form with blood red eyes. Tail bristling, body trembling with rage, his mind tired of convincing him the consequences of his actions. All paled in comparison to the crimes the reptile had committed.

A flash of chi lit the midnight alley way. A cry of pain. Fist, drenched in tissue and blood, ripped clean through Zarbon’s chest cavity. With fanged lips, Vegeta leaned in close to the dying green man and whispered “You should have never have touched what was mine.”

“Fuck, woman,” Vegeta moaned. Sweat beaded down his spine. His muscles tensed. The room was overwhelmed with the scent of his desperate arousal, his need to feel her orgasm around his member. “I need you...”

“Mmm, take me, my prince,” she cooed, arching her body beneath the sheets. The bottoms of her breasts were exposed, all the way down to the tops of those thick thighs. They bounced subtly, as if the furious thrusting of Vegeta’s hips was making her move from all the way on the other side of the screen. “Claim me with that big, yummy cock...”


Vegeta let out a snarl, his body vibrating with lust.

She’s mine...

He longed with every cell in his body to bite down on the creamy expanse of her neck. For her to wear his mark. To be covered in his scent so no other male dared touch her again.

My woman...

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered as her moans came in through the scouter’s audio receiver. An intense pressure built in the base of his cock.

M I N E...

With a shout, Vegeta came ferociously. Streams of hot seed shot from his cock and on to the bed as his body collapsed. He rode out the wave of his orgasm as ‘Berry’ coed in his ear. He caught his breath, his chest heaving. An almost-satisfied smile spread across his face.


Chapter Text

Just keep it together...

Vegeta stood in the middle of his Saiyan comrades, arms crossed over his chest, a passive scowl plastered across his face. Around the loading dock, various support staff prepped their newest purge ships. Despite having been more than timely with their missions, Freiza saw fit to only allow the Saiyans individual - if even upgraded, as he stated - pods.

Dodoria walked casually along their line, clipboard in hand, as he rambled on about the next mission. Blah blah blah, wipe out the planet. Vegeta had heard it a million times before. His tail twitched impatiently around his waist. He resisted the urge to scratch his palm. All the Saiyan prince longed to do was get in the blasted pod and call his woman.

The thought of ’Berry’ sent a wave of calm through his senses, almost making him break a contented smile.

”...and once you're there, Freiza wants you to make locating their paladium supply a priority. No harm should come to it, understood?” Dodoria questioned. He was met with silence. Nappa and Raditz held still in their places but cast a side eyed glance at their prince. His eyes were slightly glazed over and obviously detached from the conversation. A snarl was heard from the pink blob once he realized the same thing. ”Did you hear me, you dumb monkey?”

That brought Vegeta back to attention; his eyes snapped to Dodoria’s face. ”Unfortunately. Are we done now?”

He received a sickening smile back. ”Absolutely. See you in a few days.” The large creature stomped away at that.

”Are you alright, your highness?” Nappa asked lowly, his eyes still running over his prince’s features. Lately, he’d been spacing out. Unless it was during a purge; then his attention was completely held but the brutality had gone up a few notches. Perhaps it was hormones? He'd not had his mating heat yet, so maybe...

”Peachy, ” the shorter Saiyan quipped. ”Just get in your pods.” He stormed towards his own, his mind splitting it's awareness between hooking himself up to the flying contraption and the blue-haired exotic dancer that seemed to have taken permanent residence in his skull.

Strapped in. Electrodes attached. Out of habit, now, he quickly navigated to her cam page.


He swore under his breath, before putting his scouter back in standby.

”Everything alright, Vegeta?” Raditz inquired through the pod’s intercom. He peeked about the side of his open door; apparently Nappa and Raditz’s pods were closed and ready for take off.

He grunted but otherwise ignored them, attempting to divert his attention to the oncoming battle. The promise of sweet bloodshed. The ripping of sinew and flesh from bone. His tail twitched. He resisted the urge to bounce his leg in impatience. The unsatisfied beast within him, that seemed to grow restless the more he had his visits with the woman, could finally be satiated as everything was torn apart around him. He longed for the much needed distraction. With as much attention as he’d had on the female - a once-in-awhile occurrence having grown into a nightly habit - Vegeta was starting to worry. Especially since, no matter where he turned, he kept seeing-

Blue. Blue eyes, specifically. Studying him with a curious gaze. One of the techs that had been going pod-to-pod paused in their work on the side panel of his. Like all of the mechanics and techs on Frieza’s vessels, since they primarily started in the colder parts of the ship, whoever was in front of him was wrapped from head to toe. A white cowl covered most of their face, save for where the eyes would peak through. That was covered in a pair of dark glasses, shaded to shield the wearer from sparks while sodering equipment. Vegeta could see through the tint, however. Their shape was almond, feminine-looking. A bi-pedal species, though matching Vegeta’s height. The rest of their body was padded down immensely, so no clues for gender we're given.

A vicious snarl, highlighting his incisors, spread across the Saiyan’s face. That seemed to be enough to snap the low-life out of their revere, though they continued to peak bold glances at him as they finished working. Even when the pod door closed and had initiated it's takeoff sequence, the tech watched Vegeta through the small window.

He scowled, a low growl reverberating out of his throat. The gas initiating hyper sleep soon filled the cabin with an unpleasant citrus scent.

Insolent servant...




As soon as the pod crashed on the surface of the maroon planet, it's landing kicking up an obscene amount of dirt and debris in the process, Vegeta lept out and began his assault.

A hand extended out. Ki raised. A bright flash of blue energy seared through the country side and scorched the ground to a sickly black. Repeat. If civilians were in the way, their bodies immediately desintegrated A cackle frequently escaped Vegeta’s lips as his onslaught ripped through the planet.

Though Nappa never normally interfered with his prince’s actions, he tried when he noticed Vegeta’s carelessness. In the chaos’ wake, he’d been melting pockets of crimson ore. And the older Saiyan was pretty sure that was the opposite of what they were supposed to do.

”Vegeta!” he called, propelling his body to catch up with the Prince. He saw no space on the planet’s crust left untouched by his wrathful energy blasts or the fire that sparked after them. Napa could faintly hear spouts of manic laughter and vengeful screaming from him as hell rained down on the poor bastards below.

”Fuck, ” he swore. Nappa connected his scouter to Raditz. ”Get your ass over here, ” he shouted, Vegeta unleashed another sonic boom of a blast to the surface. ”He’s not lucid and I don't feel like being blown up with a planet today.” The bald Saiyan then began firing ki blasts at the Prince. It may not hurt him, since the young one was so much stronger than he, but it might distract him.

For a few hundred miles this dance went on: Vegeta destroying the landscape - and resources they originally came for - while Nappa tried to distract him with blasts. Eventually, he gave up and resorted to using his fists.

That got his attention.

With a feral snarl, Vegeta turned and uppercut Nappa right in the jaw. Momentarily dazed, Nappa was helpless to deflect the incoming onslaught.

Stiff knee to the solar plexus.

Forearm chop to the windpipe.

Fist to the spine.

Punch after punch to the jaw.

Teeth cut into the shoulder and ripped away muscle.

Skin charred from being developed by the blue blaze of ki around his assailant.

For what felt like forever, Vegeta unleashed pain upon his appointed protector. His eyes were lost, seeming far away from the actions of his body. Like he was on a beastly autopilot. Blood had soaked through Nappa’s armor in a number of places. He was pretty sure a couple of teeth were missing. At some point, he’d caught a glimpse of black hair flying through his peripheral. But there was little opportunity to take a look when his eyes were almost swollen shut.

Then there was a blast. Vegeta gasped, his punches ceasing. Those midnight eyes widened with shock and pain. His body propelled to the ground, slamming roughly into the surface.

A hole, slightly smaller than a first, seeped blood from his back into the hot earth beneath him. Vegeta drifted into a void within his mind, his eyes rolling back into his skull, as the sky above became a turquoise blue.

Chapter Text


When his eyes first opened again, Vegeta vaguely understood he was inside of a regeneration tank. The liquid soothed his abnormally warm skin, leaving him floating aimlessly for a moment. For that short while, before the liquid began draining from his chamber, the prince felt a glimpse of peace. 

Then all hell broke loose. 

First, it was the realization of what he had done. That the bloodlust had gone too far, consumed his mind so thoroughly that Vegeta had lost all of his faculties. All he had envisioned while decimating that planet, mutiliating one of his last remaining comrades, was the need for more blood. The need to quench this insufferable thirst that had rooted itself within his bones ever since he’d met that meddlesome, blue-toned female. 

Then was the understanding that Frieza’s punishment was soon after...



Suddenly, a blob of pink burst into the command  center. He gave a hasty now once his frame stopped in the center of the large room. ”Lord Frieza, forgive me for interrupting. But you wished to be informed the moment the Saiyans returned.”

The frown deepened, his eyes remaining unphased. ”I assume that you don't bring me good news, Dodoria?”

”No, my lord. Vegeta went AWOL and destroyed more than half of the palladium supply on the planet.”

Anger flashed through Frieza’s eyes, quick and dangerous, before a sickening grin plastered across his face. ”Then put the monkey in the hold. I'll personally be visiting him.”

Dodoria’s now deepened. ”Forgive me, my lord, but I would hate for any of his blood to stain the room while he waited for your arrival. He's lost quite a bit of it from Raditz’s blast to his torso; it was the only way to stop him from the rampage. May I suggest placing him in the infirmary, for now, then transferring him to the hold once he's stable?”

He growled impatiently, ”Fine, do it. But the other two monkeys can wait for me. They don't deserve the privilege of medical care after their failure.” 



His world was black. Vegeta couldn’t even hardly feel his body, let alone attempt to move. He was sure his tail was gone; his mind tried to reach for control of the appendage for reassurance and felt nothing there. But the same could be said for the rest of his body. 

What was wrong with him? How could he let himself fall into such obscurity? 

All over his mind focusing more on that woman...that body...those eyes....





The woman with blue locks and eyes as bright to match stood before Lord Frieza with her head downcast. A pit of anger and vengeance shimmered within her but was silenced from bubbling further. 

Soon...all in good time...

The minuscule yet powerful lizard before her swirled a glass of burgundy liquid that she wasn’t 1000% sure wasn’t blood. An impassive grimace painted his face. Those thin, rubbery lips gave a tasteful noise before sipping from the glass. All the while she remained immobile. Fear hadn’t run through her body when in the tyrant’s presence for at least the past year of her forced servitude. Not that Frieza knew that; this female was smart enough to play the part well. 

”So, you say everything will be ready by the end of the week?” the androgenous beast before her drawled in an unusually feminine tone. Those beady eyes could be felt piercing into the top of her head. 

She gave a nod but remained silent otherwise.

Make him believe he's beaten me...

Then those evil eyes turned to the blue-haired woman, who'd remained immovable through the conversation. ”You’ve done well tending to my pet monkey during his punishment. After his treatment today, you’re allowed to put him in the regeneration tank and let him completely heal. I have no further need of him.”

She nodded, avoiding eye contact, and walked out. Her mind raced as she moved down the hall, slipping easily between tentacled and gelatenous bodies in cumbersome some uniforms, making her way to the infirmary. 

Her suspicions were confirmed once she made her way through the double doors. When she saw that muscular frame laying on the examination table, two bulkier men over him attempting - and failing - to stop the blood flow seeping from his body with their hands, Bulma knew he was the same man from the club. 

The same man, just like the other two, that had been in here a few weeks ago after a failed mission. Right before Zarbon disappeared...

Yet, before she could contemplate it further, Dodoria came in behind the woman and wrestled the two Saiyans out. 

“I swear, female, if he dies on your watch...” the bald, and badly bruised, one threatened before received a swift punch to the face from the pink General. 

“You should be lucky Frieza decided to let him live,” Dodoria chuckled darkly as blood spewed from the other male’s face. They noisily made their exit as the general dragged them to whenever Frieza wanted them next. 

Her eyes studied his brutalized body heavily. 

Blood dripped from his fingertips to the white floor below in uneven portions. 

He groaned softly, a whimpering, “Berry...” escaping his lips. 

Her eyes widened. 

The woman sighed before rolling up her sleeves and making her way towards him. 

This was going to be a long day. 



Bright light. Shining directly into his eyes. 

Then pain. Like fire stretching it’s way through his veins without care or whim. 

What the...

With a curse, Vegeta realized he was strapped to a table, but where precisely he didn’t know. With slit eyed, he growled as he noticed a being moving above his body. 

They touched him. More pain. He cursed. 

“If you continue to cause me pain, weakling, you’ll be eveserated.”

They paused, a shadow of a head moving towards them. It tilted. “Glad to see you’re awake,” they said nonchalantly. 

Feminine. A slight accent. Familiar...

No, it can’t be...

Vegeta shook his head, baring his teeth. Another wave of pain shot through him. “Fuck, woman! Didn’t you hear -“

“Yeah, yeah I heard you.” This shadowed female had the audacity to wave his sentiments off. “The issue is whatever stunt you pulled with Frieza has rid you of a significant loss of blood, your tail completely, and a few other appendages. If you want them reattached successfully, you’ll shut up and stop squirming.”

He growled, a flush of impatience and irritation spreading across his face. Vegeta desperately stamped down the swell of fear that threatened to grow ever since she mentioned his tail was gone. If she was reattaching it, then that would explain how intense the pain felt. 

He gave another growl as whatever her fingers did to his lower back sent another wave of electric pain through his body. 

“I would give you anesthesia, but Lord Frieza specifically forebode it.” She continued conversating as if she were eating a tasteful meal rather than stitching his body together. “You’ll just have to be a tough guy and deal with it.”

“I’ll put your head on a pike for this, female.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, princey.”

His breath caught. Her hands momentarily froze before continuing their work. 

Much weaker than Vegeta wanted to, he heard himself mutter, “Don’t call me that.”

A pause. “Why not? You are a prince, right?”

Fuck, why can’t he place that accent? With the number of beings he’s run into, surely Vegeta could visualize the one place he’s heard that tone before. The words, however, he recognized immediately. 

“Do not call be that, peasant.”

She chuckled darkly. “You of all people should know not everyone is a ‘peasant’ on this ship. Watch your tongue before I cut it off.”

He gave an evil grin. “I’d like to see you try. I may be blinded by this internal lamp but I’ll still remove your head from your shoulders and-“

A searing pain cut off his tyrade, catching his breath. Suddenly, he felt a breath fan over his left cheek and the woman’s voice was in his ear. “Such big talk from someone in such a compromising position,” she chided, tutting. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered saving your life multiple times over the past few weeks.”

He scoffed but didn’t utter anything further. Weeks? Had he been in and out of consciousness, his body mutilated, for that long?

Wait... “Cute?” he asked, almost horrified. 

He heard another chuckle. “What? No ones ever called you cute, princey?”

He sputtered. “How dare you! I am the Prince of-“

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

Vegeta growled in irritation. It seemed the female wasn’t intending to hurt him, though she knew the effects of her movements on his body. Her touch was gentle, for the most part. That tone and accent were throwing him for a loop, though. And, to Vegeta’s growing anxiety, they sounded oddly like ‘Berry’. 

True, she only spoke this way - called him that - when she was teasing him. Flirting. Otherwise she was moaning and screaming for ‘her prince’ to defile her in a number of ways. Her original verbal attraction came from her no-nonsense, take-no-shit attitude with the other members of the chat room. Vegeta loved riling her up, seeing that anger light her eyes and tongue in inventive ways. 

It was too similar to this woman...

But, it simply couldn’t be her. That would mean she’d been too close to Vegeta this entire time. It would mean that he’d been stupid enough to not think she worked for Frieza, would live close to where he lived...

That maybe she had a planet he destroyed...

He sniffed and tasted the air. Nothing but cleaning aneseptic, so he couldn’t scent her. 

He didn’t care for this new train of thought, or the conflicting emotions within him. Though his logic knew it would be a horrible idea for this female before him to be his ‘Berry’, a twisted part no-so-secretly wished it. 

Was that why she was so gentle with him? Why she kept calling him that? And maybe, just maybe, she did find him physically attractive...and, possibly, want him back?

A bristle of conflicted frustration ran through him again. “Are you done, woman?” he asked impatiently. The sooner he was away from this female, whoever she was, the better at this rate. 

Before she could answer, he heard the doors to their room open. A foul, oily odor seeped in. He knew who it was before the lamp was moved and he found Frieza peering down at him. 

The bastard wore a sickening grin, with irritated amusement in his eyes. Those claws grabbed Vegeta’s face roughly, but not enough to leave fresh scratches. “Hopefully this excursion will teach you to obey orders the first time,” he lilted, those beady eyes pinning the Saiyan down on the spot. He frowned, but remained unmoving and silent until Frieza let go. The tyrant looked to Vegeta’s left. “Put him in the tank. You’ve done enough.” Then his face was gone. 

Hiss. Click. The doors had closed. 

A whiring sound began. Vegeta felt himself suddenly move, like he was being lifted and carried. He felt his restraints drift away and his body lifted into a small space. 

The regeneration tank...

A metallic claw put the breathing apparatus over his face. 

The door closed.

The chamber began to fill. 

He gave a sigh, looking forward to the cooling liquid that would ease the remaining aches and pains of his body. 

Someone was watching him...

When Vegeta locked eyes with his watcher, he gasped in surprise. 

She was in scrubs with a white lab coat. A discarded face mask hanging around her neck. Bright curled peeked out of a medical cap. Bright blue eyes, filled with amusement and some unknown emotion, stared back at him. 

Creamy skin...

Red lips...

The chamber was filled to the brim, the sedatives in the solution beginning to take hold. 

She smiled. “Sleep well, princey.”

Vegeta tried to fight it but gave in to closing his eyes and drifting into a sleep.


Chapter Text

When the lights came up on the stage, the blue-haired vixen was on a stool. A long, cylindrical, white hat perched on her crown crookedly. Her usual head of messy curls were straighter, falling in gentle waves around scarlet lips and black lashes.


The fabric of her skirt, which barely covered the most private parts of her, was red and checkered.


A white button-down had been tied under her generous bust, making her breasts seem as if they were about to burst any moment now.


And when the music started and those blue eyes locked with Vegeta, who sat across the room at the bar, the temperature in the room rose another twenty degrees.


Her lips moved in perfect synchronicity with the lyrics. Those shoulders heaved and hips twitched as that curvy frame stood and shook, each limb moving in isolation to the beat of the song.


The hat was removed and thrown.

A purple claw in the crowd caught it was raucous laughter following.

And when she screamed the words to the song, loosing more bits and trinkets of her clothing, Vegeta felt something roar within himself.


There was no mistaking it now. That woman - the one who refused to break eye contact as she glared and shook her body simultaneously at him - was ‘Berry’.


How dare they watch her...

That skin is mine...

Those lips are mine...


A growl rumbled in the back of his throat. Vegeta’s tail twitched as he sat, a fist clenching some bottle of fluorescent green liquid. Though whatever alcohol this was definitely was getting to his head, one thing was certain:


That female was going to be his by the end of the night.

Chapter Text

The curtains had just closed, and she began to walk backstage when she felt a wave of air hit her back.


Then there was a warmth there.



Unbelievably hot.


She turned, and those blue eyes opened wider. 

He was here. Arms crossed, a grim line across that chiseled face. That broad chest and shoulders seemed to stretch his PTO military uniform more than usual; despite being a turtleneck, the skin-tight fabric left very little to the imagination. Good thing they were eye level, otherwise she would have an even harder time keeping her eyes from drifting downward.

No, her eyes were locked with his. Onyx meeting blue. The fire within him, the lust and swirling storm of emotions he seemed to be filtering through, trying to spread to her.

Sniff . Green Fairy.

He’s been drinking.

“We need to speak,” he finally said after a few moments.

Her eyes combed over his form once more before she walked away. There wasn’t a need to see if he’d follow; the woman could feel the stalk of a predator behind her.



Fucking drunk.

She led him through the hallway, separating the stage from the audience. Intentions in the walls, lined with velvet curtains, gave private booths for dancers and clients to meet secretly. It would do.

Her heels stepped through the archway and into the intimate space, stepping aside for her guest.

He stalked through. A long cape billowed behind him, catching her from checking out his ass. Something bristled under there, though. A belt?

Curtains closed.

The lights grew dimmer.

Instantly, the noise of the entertainers and patrons outside drowned away.

Their eyes locked, breathing synced.



God damn, him.


This was not how she wanted to meet him for the first time. Fuck, if she knew she’d been getting the lead general for Freiza’s purge brigade off, she would’ve tried harder. Not at the club, for a start.

And not with him fucking drinking.

They stood like that for what felt like ages, watching the other for the first move to be made. Though his exterior didn’t change, there was a vulnerability that peeked through his eyes every so often. A little fear. A little curiosity.

With a sigh, sick of waiting for him to fucking do something; the woman pushed him down. He sat back on the plush couch that wrapped around the room, surprise eminent on his face. ”You wanted to talk, so talk, ” she quipped. Without losing distance, she straddled one of his thighs and began to move her body against his.

He stiffened. ”What are you doing?”

Her eyes flicked to one of the corners of the room. ”Cameras. If I don't ’work,’ they kick us out. Now, talk, ” she added impatiently. She ran her fingers down his muscles, feeling the hard muscles appreciatively there.

The Saiyan cleared his throat, focusing his eyes on hers. His fists clenched at his sides. ”You’re ’Berry,’ then?”

She scoffed. ”If you want to call me that, I guess.”

”What’s your name then?”


He rolled the word over his tongue like he was getting a taste for the phrase. She didn't like to admit how good it felt for someone to know her name finally. Bulma looked away, grinding her pelvis into his thigh, ignoring how good the friction felt. He hissed. ”You?”

He paused, seeming to be caught off guard. ”What?”

”Your name?”

”You don't know me, woman?”

”I believe a proper introduction is needed, pricey.” Her eyes pinned him in place. ”Unless you'd rather me keep calling you that.”

A half-smirk appeared for a moment. ”Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans.”

”Well, if we're giving useless titles, I’m Bulma Briefs, heiress to the Capsule Corp industry and fortune. Pleased to meet you.” She turned away and began rubbing her backside, whose plaid covering had started riding up during her dance, on Vegeta’s crotch.

He gasped and hissed. ”That...ngh was uncalled for. Must you keep doing that?”

She looked over her shoulder, innocently. ”What? Turning you on?”

He bit his lip but said nothing more.

A dark chuckle escaped her. ”For someone so talkative on the phone, you’re sure the strong silent type.” Bulma eased to her knees and turned, her lips level with his pelvis. He was hard, straining through the blue spandex of his uniform. Before she could talk herself out of it, her lips planted a kiss on his knee before trailing up his thigh. He gasped, scooting back until he was flush against the back. ”I wonder...”

”What?” Quick breaths moved through his chest as those eyes didn't leave her.

”I wonder if I can make you moan in front of me.” Her mouth whispered against the fabric of his crotch, moving along his length. It was pinned against his front, stretching up to above his belly button. A faint wet spot could be seen at his tip.

Her tongue flicked out and licked it.

A small whimper could be heard. His body was rigid.

”I want to see...” Bulma continued huskily, rubbing her body against his. Up she moved, her chest moving deliciously slow upwards until her lips were a breath away from his.

He smelt intoxicating like sex and musk.

Her eyes locked with his. ”Too bad, you didn't come to see me sober.”

And with that, she stormed out, leaving Vegeta hard and incredibly confused.

Chapter Text








He was a few yards back, letting the hustle and bustle of the midnight crowd shield him from view. At least, they would if the woman turned around at all. 

There was a completely different look about her outside of the club, outside of being ‘Berry.’ The curls were gone, and that luminescent hair was straightened down to the middle of her back. A white lab coat with a blue ‘‘C’ on it covered a pair of work pants and a scoop neck shirt. No heels, no makeup. Light bags hung under her eyes; those cheeks stained pink from sun exposure. That creamy skin varied in tones but was generally pale, at least compared to his caramel coloring. 

It was the first time Vegeta saw Bulma. 

He didn’t know what to think or feel. He had known all along that the woman he’d been pining for, that he’d spoke to daily, had a life outside of being ‘Berry.’ Vegeta was never so naive as to believe she was this seductive vixen twenty-four seven. 

But even in the more straightforward way she carries herself through the crowd, Bulma stood out. Her coloring wasn’t common even among those aliens around her, making her stand out. 

Or did she just seem that way because of how much Vegeta wanted her? 

A part of his brain felt as if he was stalking prey through the streets of Ginu, his senses only on her as the evening rushed and surged with bodies around him. When he could see her, they walked out of the red light district and towards the shipyard. When sight was lost, Vegeta followed his nose through the various purge ships and found her - surprisingly - boarding the largest. 


Too close...

His feet lifted from the ground. His scouter beeped; her heat signature and pitifully low ki could be seen through the many layers of insulation and metal between them. That chiseled body, hardened with scars and arms crossed, circulated the outside of the ship until Vegeta found the window he was looking for. 
She stepped through the doors of the lab and locked them behind her. A hand reached up and brushed a loose hair back behind her ear.
His fingers ached to do it himself. 

Bulma sighed, eyes downcast, and moved to the left behind a curtain. There was no window back there, but he could see her heat signature move. 

Those arms lifted. Her frame stretched. 

Vegeta’s eyes widened as his face flushed. He quickly turned away, staring at the sky instead as his mind raced. Myriads of lewd images began flooding the Saiyan’s brain, to which he growled and did his best to push down. 

Holy shit, she’s changing...

The scouter beeped, breaking his reverie. Nappa. Vegeta growled, ending the infernal ringing. He hadn’t spoken to his second-in-command since his recovery. He felt no need to dwell on his actions or explain the motive behind them. 

Especially since he didn’t quite know it himself. Except that it had to do with the woman on the other side of the wall, somehow. 

He couldn’t wrap his mind around this concept of needing someone. Vegeta thought surely that it was just because he was physically attracted to the creature that she wouldn’t leave his mind. The thought of her did set many parts of himself alight. was more than that. 

Saiyans didn’t have a word or phrase for this possessiveness he felt. He knew that mating was something unknown with his people but not so much so that it was frowned upon. Perhaps the urge to find someone to procreate was finally setting on him. 

Maybe after he bed her - shiver ran down his back and through the end of his tail at that thought - Vegeta would finally have some peace. 

But it felt more than just that...

Another beep; an alarm. She was online. 

His eyes looked through the window once more. The woman had changed into a purple nightgown, transparent with its choice of flattering lace that dipped between her breasts and skirted the tops of her thighs. There was a camera by a large table covered in circuitry and wiring. A snow-globe-like microphone lay on the seat next to her. 

With a gulp, Vegeta selected the notification and went to her cam page. The chat room was already full. 

Come on...
You can do this...

A deep breath. 
He initiated the private chat. 

“-you know? Oh,” she said, surprised but with a dip in her tone. Disappointment? “It’s you.” It was odd seeing the woman in front of him and on his scouter at the same time, but either way, Vegeta found he couldn’t say anything. The words were gone. Just...guilt remained. 

“Did you sober up enough to talk to me like a real man? If not, I’m kicking you.”

That earned a growl. “Watch how you speak to me, woman.”

“Oh, look!” She continued, irritation apparent in her face and body. “He does speak! What the hell do you want, Vegeta?”

She said his name...

A chill ran down his spine, and he bit back a moan. So, that’s what it sounded like for her to say his name. He cleared his throat, attempting to get his bearings again. “I... I just wanted to see you. Tonight. Again.” 

Her arms crossed, those blue eyes shooting daggers at him. “That’s all?”

He gulped. “What more do you want, woman?”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. After a moment’s pause, she got up from her seat. Her head turned. Those eyes looked at the window, right into his. “I want you to grow a pair and come in here.”

Chapter Text


His breath caught.

Those eyes went wide.

Did she mean...?

"Well," she continued. Both of those tiny hands were fisted and propped on her hips angrily, Bulma's blue eyes spitting fire. "Are you coming in or not?"

Vegeta gulped, finding it difficult to breathe - let alone form words - for a moment. He knew what those words implied, what he hoped they suggested, and what could happen if he took the woman up on her offer. He could feel the air around him gently bustling his cape as he hovered by the window, looking in on her through the plastic slats.

Should he go in? Was he that much of a coward that he couldn't just act on his impulses, on what he'd been dreaming of for months on end, and go to her?

She scoffed. She was tired of waiting. Time was up. "Forget it," she muttered, that honeyed voice masking itself with disappointment and melancholy. She walked to the keyboard next to the camera and typed.

His feed was suddenly cut off.

The blinds of the window closed irately, banging against the glass.

Panic swelled within the Saiyan Prince's gut.

He could hear her beginning to speak to the chat, again, through the wall. Laughing emptily. A flirtatious tone masking the emptiness of her words. From the counter, he could see the minuscule level of her ki ebbing angrily.

Suddenly, Vegeta saw red. It was like he was watching his body move without any mental input from himself, any say. It flew, quicker than a normal pair of eyes could see, around the vast ship and through the halls.

Bodies were flung out of the way. 

Papers colored the air with white that floated haphazardly to the ground. 

His eyes followed the tiny red dot on his scouter until it grew in size, forming a voluptuous shape.

Until he was right outside her door. 




At the moment an anonymous chat participant selected ‘private chat’, the lock on Bulma’s doors unlatched and they slid open. 

Oh Kami, not now!

She frantically threw on a robe, doing her best to cover up underwear. 

Monitor turned off, toys stashed. 

But then, he stepped through the curtain. 

Vegeta. The Prince of the last of the Saiyan race. Still clad in his uniform, whose fabric seemed to cling to each distinct muscle of his body. 

He wasn’t large, about her height with those onyx eyes leveling hers. The only thing making it seem like he towered over her was the tall stack of coarse hair that flamed from his intense widow’s peak. 

That chiseled face with fake but definitely handsome features was etched with worry and determination. 

Those eyes, that reminded her so very much of places that had long since gone, never ventured from her. 

But before she could utter a word, he was a breath away from her. 

She froze, heart pounding. 

He let out a shaky breath. 

“I want...need something from you, woman,” he spoke, the deep timbre of his voice barely loud enough to be a whisper. 

She looked from one eye to the other, questioning. 

Then those lips were on hers. Tentatively, experimentally. Like he’d never kissed anyone before. But it had been so long since she’d done this, there was a hesitant feel to her lips too. 




Fuck, she tasted incredible. Something fruity and exotic, something he’d never had before in his lifetime. 

There was something so very fragile about the woman before him. 

Maybe it was the way she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, but he couldn’t feel the weight. 

Perhaps it was the soft moans that she made, every sound that came from her so gentle and tentative. 

Vegeta’s mind raced, his heart pounding against his ribs. With a shaky hand, he reached up to touch a loose tendril of hair.

Fuck, it was creamy soft. So easily slipping through his fingers. 

Her tongue gently licked along his bottom lip and Vegeta’s knees almost gave out out. He gasped and groaned, clinging to her. His tail coiled itself around her upper thigh. When the fur brushed against her, Bulma let out a trembling gasp. 

He didn’t realize he could ever be so hard in his life. 

With much internal debating, Vegeta broke free of the heated kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. 

Their panting breaths synced. 

Neither loosened their arms from the other. 

He gulped. “I...I’ve never-“

“Shh,” she whispered, putting a finger over his lips. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

He groaned, diving in for another kiss. There was more reckless abandon in this one, less caution. It felt as if Vegeta’s body knew, on instinct, what to do. 

And he was just along for the ride. 

So, when she jumped to wrap her legs around his waist, grinding that soaking core into the crotch of his suit, Vegeta caught her with a surprised gasp. 

When those devilish lips whispered for him to pin her to the chaise in the corner, he complied with a shudder and pinned that delicious body on the crimson velvet. 

When he felt the need to feel that skin underneath him, nothing in between them, Vegeta didn’t question the urge and began tearing clothing off of them both. 

And he about blew his load when the female followed suit and ripped his cape off. 

He felt the need to touch, to taste, every part of her. And there was no time like the present to learn. 

“Shh, go slowly,” she whispered encouragingly as Vegeta inched a finger inside of her core. He followed her lead, slowly moving one finger then two in and out of her, every clench of her walls and moan of encouragement sending shockwaves down between his legs. 

Her face was flushed red, lipstick smudged and eyes shimmering. 

Those short nails dug into his skin, leaving scratches as his thumb circled her clit quickly - just like she told him - and she flew over the edge, moaning loudly. 

But his favorite face had to be when Bulma flipped them over on the lounge, straddled his hips, and sat right down on his cock. 

Vegeta’s back arched, a gasp escaping his lips. 

Oh god...

So tight...

Unbelievably wet...

Bulma sat up on his waist, fingers digging into his chest. Those waves fell around her face messily, a pair of mischievous, heated eyes peeking through the tendrils. Her breasts were pushed forward, looking even fully and bigger than he’d ever dreamed of. Creamy skin stretching across the canvas of her body. 

A deathly naughty smile spread across her face, heightening the rosiness of her cheeks and those pearl white teeth shining in the dim lighting. 

And then, Bulma started moving. 

Vegeta couldn’t comprehend what he was feeling. It was waves of intense heat crashing through him, heightening every time she bounced up and down on his cock, her slick drilling down her thighs and between them. She moaned vulgarly, shaking as she reached her orgasm again. 

Teeth clenched. 

Neck muscles straining. 

Shoulders heaving. 

Fists clenching, breaking the wood of the seat beneath him. 

It’s too much...

With a growl, he flipped them over. Bulma’s legs were hiked up on his shoulders. Vegeta buried his face in her neck, drowning himself in her scent, and began slamming his dick into her. 




Her screams echoed around them, filling the small space with the smell and sound of wet hips crashing into each other and thunderous howls of pleasure. 

His eyes rolled back as his body quaked precariously on the edge. Vegeta’s hips moved unconsciously in time with Bulma’s as he chased his orgasm, his tail pulsing and bristling as he grew ever closer. 

It was the smallest thing that finally triggered his orgasm. Between shaky breaths, he heard her say it...

“Oh, my prince...”

Yes, right there...
My Bulma...

Vegeta came with a loud roar, his body convulsing, the wood clutched in his fingertips snapping. The jettison of his seed sent Bulma into another orgasm of her own, the clenching of her walls around his cock making him whimper from the intensity. 

They collapsed on the chaise together, sweaty and wet from the combination of their juices. 

The smallest of smiles peaked through the Saiyan’s lips. 

And the red blinking light from the camera shone dimly in the makeshift-bedroom of Bulma’s lab as the couple entered a deep slumber.