Chapter Text
The wind was electric that night.
Capsule Corp’s halls were dead silent—except for the occasional groan of steel stretching against the pull of the atmosphere. Something about the storm outside felt… charged. Like the air itself was holding its breath.
And you were restless.
You sat curled on the edge of your bed in one of Bulma’s many spare guest wings, legs bare beneath one of your oversized sleep shirts. You weren’t sure if it was the electricity outside, the thunder vibrating the windows—or the presence you’d started to feel more and more lately.
Him.
He hadn’t spoken to you. Not really.
Not beyond a grunt. A glare. A hum of recognition when you passed him in the gravity chamber hallway, your arms full of data pads and your cheeks hot from the sheer density of the man’s aura. You weren’t used to being ignored by someone so magnetic. So fierce. So utterly male.
But Vegeta wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met.
He wasn’t human. He wasn’t soft. He wasn’t safe.
And still, something about him called to you—like a forgotten part of your DNA remembering what it meant to crave the stars.
And lately?
He’d been watching you.
Not subtly. Not discreetly.
Watching you like you were prey.
That night, your door opened without warning.
You jumped. Whirled around. The storm outside crackled like it was reacting to the man standing in your doorway—broad-shouldered, arms crossed, glowing faintly with the weight of unshed power.
“Locked doors don’t work on me,” he said, voice rough like smoke.
Your pulse quickened. “I didn’t invite you in.”
His gaze darkened.
“You didn’t have to.”
You could barely breathe.
Vegeta stepped inside, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft click—final, decisive. His energy hit you like a second storm. No aura flared. No words were spoken. But your skin prickled, nipples tightening under the thin fabric of your shirt as though your body already knew something your mind hadn’t caught up to yet.
He moved slowly.
Every step forward was deliberate. Like a predator closing the space between himself and something he had already decided to claim.
“I’ve waited long enough,” he said simply. “So have you.”
You swallowed hard. “For what?”
His eyes burned as they dragged down your body, devouring you—no shame, no hesitation, just raw alien desire. “To see how your body sounds when I break it open for pleasure.”
Your thighs clenched together.
“Vegeta—” your voice was hoarse, but he was already in front of you.
He didn’t touch—not yet. Just stood there, close enough to breathe in your scent. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin. His aura was pulsing around you, thick and magnetic and hungry.
“You know what I am,” he said lowly.
You nodded.
He tilted his head. “Say it.”
“You’re… not human,” you breathed.
He smirked, eyes flickering with something animalistic.
“No,” he murmured. “I’m better.”
His hand came up—bare fingers brushing lightly under your chin.
“Fragile,” he muttered, tracing the line of your jaw, your throat, your collarbone. “So warm. So soft. And still you look at me like you want to be devoured.”
Your breath hitched. “Maybe I do.”
His smirk vanished.
Then he kissed you.
No warning. No soft beginning.
Just heat, hunger, domination.
His mouth crushed yours like he’d waited lifetimes. His tongue slid deep, claiming space, stealing your breath. One strong hand tangled in your hair while the other gripped your hip and yanked you up against the solid wall of his chest.
You moaned into his mouth.
He growled.
And just like that—he lifted you.
Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and he pinned you to the wall, hips grinding between your thighs like he wanted to burn through the fabric separating him from your heat.
“I can smell you,” he rasped against your lips. “You’ve been thinking about this. About me.”
You whined.
His eyes flashed. “Don’t deny it. Your body’s already begging.”
And then—he dropped to his knees.
Vegeta dropped to his knees like he was meant to worship—but make no mistake:
You were the offering.
Strong hands gripped the back of your thighs as his face tilted up to yours, dark eyes glowing with hunger. “Open for me.”
Your heart pounded so hard it hurt. Your legs parted on instinct, shaky and desperate as he hooked his fingers in your panties and ripped them off—so fast yet it had you dripping and aching for contact.
“Fuck,” he rasped, eyes locked between your thighs. “You’re already soaked.”
Heat flushed through you. “Vegeta…”
He didn’t answer.
He dove in.
His tongue met you in one smooth, devastating stroke—hot, wide, and obscene. Your back slammed against the wall as your hips jerked, and he growled in approval, sucking your clit into his mouth like he wanted to keep it there forever.
You cried out—sharp, stunned, already unraveling.
He was relentless.
His tongue worked you with practiced dominance, lips latching onto your most sensitive spot while one hand held you open and the other gripped your ass, squeezing possessively.
Wet. Hot. Sinful.
He licked you like it was a need. Like your taste had been haunting him. Like your scent had been driving him insane.
You legs tightened around his neck almost like a vice but you knew to him it was a mere tickle but it worked, he pressed his mouth even deeper into your dripping folds.
His nose nudged your clit while his tongue slid lower, dipping into your entrance—fucking you with slow, thick strokes that made your eyes roll back.
“Fuck, Vegeta—” you sobbed.
He pulled back, lips slick with your arousal.
“Say my name again,” he growled.
You whined it.
He devoured you in response.
Your orgasm hit like a collision.
You screamed, legs shaking around his head, hands fisting in his thick hair. He didn’t stop. Not when your thighs trembled. Not when your body jerked. Not when your vision blurred from overstimulation.
He licked you through it—even as you begged, even as you gasped, even as tears spilled from the corner of your eyes.
“Too much—Vegeta, I—”
He lifted his head just enough to speak, voice low and feral:
“You think that was enough? You don’t know what it means to take a Saiyan yet.”
He rose to his feet in one smooth movement—towering over you, lips glistening with your release.
And when he kissed you again, you tasted yourself on his tongue.
His mouth was hot. His hands possessive. And the hard length pressed between your bodies made your pulse explode.
He broke the kiss with a sharp inhale.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” he said simply.
Your thighs clenched.
“And I’m not going to stop until I’ve filled you up so deep your body forgets what it means to be untouched.”
Vegeta tore his shirt off in one swift motion, and your breath caught in your throat.
He was carved. Cut from something older than stone.
Muscles coiled with impossible strength, chest heaving with control he was clearly struggling to maintain. His cock—thick, flushed, leaking—pressed up against your lower stomach as he pinned you to the wall, grinding slowly with a low, possessive growl.
“You feel that?” he snarled. “That’s what you do to me.”
You whimpered.
“You’ve been tempting me since the day you walked into Capsule Corp with your soft skin and sweet little scent. I told myself to wait. To hold back.”
He lined himself up.
“But I’m not waiting anymore.”
And then he slammed into you.
You screamed.
Your back arched, mouth falling open in a broken sob as he stretched you wide, too thick, too deep, every inch shoving through your walls like he was built to destroy you from the inside out.
“FUCK—” you choked.
Vegeta groaned, head dropping to your neck, his breath ragged. “Tight. Fuck, you’re perfect.”
He didn’t wait.
He started to move.
Rough, deep thrusts that had your whole body jerking with every slam. The sound of skin against skin echoed with every brutal snap of his hips, your wetness loud and messy between you both.
He grabbed your hips—slamming you down onto him harder. His mouth brushed your ear.
“I’m going to break you,” he hissed. “And then I’m going to do it again.”
You cried out as he hit that spot—deep, devastating, stars blinking behind your eyes.
Vegeta laughed lowly. “There it is.”
You came again.
Hard.
So hard your legs kicked, your body trembling uncontrollably, your hands clawing down his back. But he didn’t stop. Just kept fucking you through it, his pace relentless, his expression feral.
“Already?” he growled. “Pathetic little human. What’s going to happen when I make you come a third time?”
Your body gave a violent twitch.
He slammed into you deeper.
“That’s right. You’re mine now. Say it.”
“I—I’m yours,” you sobbed.
“LOUDER.”
“I’M YOURS, VEGETA!”
He growled like a beast.
And then—he flipped you.
Suddenly your front was smashed against the wall, one of his hands pinning your wrists above your head, the other gripping your hip as he drove into you from behind.
You shattered again within seconds, crying out into the plaster as he took you harder, faster, pounding you like his life depended on it.
“You’ll take every drop,” he snarled. “You’ll feel me leaking out for hours.”
You moaned incoherently.
“I’m going to breed you so full,” he growled, “they’ll smell me on you for days.”
You clenched around him—and that’s what did it.
He slammed deep—as deep as possible—and came with a snarl, his hips grinding against your ass as hot, thick release poured into you in heavy pulses.
You felt every drop.
You collapsed with him still buried inside you, both of you panting, trembling, ruined.
And then…
He pulled out—still hard.
You turned, wide-eyed, legs shaking.
He smirked down at you.
“Oh, little one,” he rasped, voice hoarse and dangerous.
“We’re just getting started.”