Chapter Text
Bulma stood in the kitchen of her apartment, eyes fixed out the window as she started her dishwasher, enjoying the peaceful serenity of the morning. At 7 on a Sunday, the usually busy city was peaceful, with only the occasional jogger or service worker. Once the dishwasher was set and her kitchen was tidy, she got cozy on her couch with her laptop and a mug of green tea. Not far into her daily scroll of current events, emails, and messages from loved ones, she heard a familiar squeaking of a door that was definitely broken, followed by the clatter of paws on the hardwood floor.
“Oh,” she thought as her cheeks got warm and she started fidgeting with herself.
She placed her laptop on the couch and ran to her room. There, she changed out of the ratty T-shirt and underwear she was wearing into a pink camisole and shorts set. She tossed her brilliant blue hair into a ponytail, adorning it with a ribbon for a touch of girly flair. She added a bit of chapstick and body spray. When her appearance was to her liking, she settled back into her couch as if the last five minutes didn’t happen. She heard the paws once again run up the stairs and the squeaky door open and close.
“I have got to get a grip,” she silently admonished herself.
She tried to pick up where she left off, but her heart felt like it was in her throat, and she was buzzing. Every second ticking by caused a deep, expectant aching.
Her phone vibrated next to her, and she let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. She picked up her phone.
Come bend over for me.
There it was. What she had been waiting for all morning. Her next-door neighbor, Vegeta, wanted to continue their little early morning tradition.
Bulma tried to suppress her smile as she typed back, Open the door for me, bossy.
With that, she pushed her feet into her fluffy slippers, grabbed her keys, and left her apartment across the hall to his. Once he heard her at the door, he opened it, dressed for work, looking stoically.
Bulma couldn’t help but admire him in his work clothes. He was short and muscular and covered in tattoos. His dark hair that was always stylishly spiked was dyed blonde at the tips. He had a bit of facial stubble that added to his grunginess. Vegeta worked as a firefighter, and there was definitely something to be said about a man in uniform. He was also glancing her over, but his expression was unreadable.
“Good morning,” Bulma said brightly, making her way over to his couch.
Vegeta grumbled his own good mornings to her as he made his way over to her. His eyes were still locked on her, hungrily. His gaze was so intense she unconsciously shifted in her seat to ease some of the aching in her pants.
She swallowed as she met his eye contact. “Can I help you?”
The corner of his mouth flickered for a second before he grunted out, “Yeah.”
Bulma, thoroughly enjoying the circumstances of being this man’s prey, licked her lips and batted her long eyelashes up at him. “How so?”
With that, Vegeta didn’t say anything else. He deftly undid the buckle of his belt and pants in record time. Bulma teemed with anticipation as he pulled out his hardened appendage and presented it to her.
She loved his dick. It was beautiful, with a fat head, heavy balls, and the perfect length. She salivated as she opened her mouth and took him as far as he could go.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.
When he didn’t move, she took it upon herself to move her head back and forth while caressing the bottom of his shaft with her tongue. This made him groan in response, and his hands finally moved to take either side of her head, pushing him in further. She could do nothing but focus on breathing and not vomiting as he lustfully fucked her throat.
“Look up at me,” he commanded; and she obeyed.
Tears flooded her eyes as she gagged over and over, to his sadistic amusement. She’d never admit this to anyone—but this was her happy place. Which was saying something because she was pursuing her tech company dreams and was respected in her field by her peers. At work, she was definitely an alpha, domineering woman—if they could see her now.
Vegeta eventually took pity on her and pulled back, spit connecting him to her lips. Not breaking eye contact, he took his hard member and tapped it a few times on her tongue. She took the hint and swallowed him aggressively, making obscene squelches with every movement of her head. He ripped himself out of her mouth at that moment and kissed her passionately. She tried to keep up as he nipped at her lips and pulled out her breasts through the top of her camisole. He pulled back and stared at one like a starved man before putting it into his mouth and then the other. She was a whimpering, wet mess beneath him as he fondled her breasts.
“Vegeta,” she started to whimper.
“Bend over, baby,” he said into her chest. He then walked over to where he kept his condoms as Bulma worked to get herself out of her shorts. She bent over his couch and presented herself with a practiced arch, leaking with need.
He stood behind her, admiring as he took his now-covered cock and spread her lips open to reveal her warm, expecting center. Her breathing hitched as he rubbed himself up her crack and down again. Before she could start to protest, he was already slipping inside her. They both let out a sigh of relief. Once he felt that she’d adjusted, he began his brutal pace inside her.
Clawing at anything she could, Bulma was losing her sanity as Vegeta mercilessly fucked her. Gripping onto her hips and digging his nails in, there was only the sound of him slapping against her, her whimpering, and his deep breathing.
“You look so pretty like this,” he muttered so softly she wasn’t sure if she was meant to hear it.
That was new. He’d commented on her appearance or said he liked something she was wearing but never given an outright compliment. Not that she needed one from him. She had to carry a stick to beat the men away. Ever since she broke up with Yamcha, she’d taken “single and ready to mingle” to heart. She was wearing less and staying out more. It was nice to know Vegeta found her pretty. He was so hard to read that when she realized she was attracted to him, she almost didn’t say anything because she was scared she’d been misreading his kindness for flirting. Could’ve been both.
This comment egged Bulma on to meet his thrust in earnest. His grip tightened as she did.
“Woman,” he slapped her ass, “slow down.”
Bulma giggled at the crack in his voice when he gritted it out, but she obliged. Once in control again, Vegeta pushed himself into her as deep as he could and moved his hips around in a way that made her scream. She definitely woke up another neighbor in the building. He kept this stroke going until she lost her last bit of sanity and begged.
“Please, what?” he scoffed, grabbing the back of her neck.
“Please don’t stop,” she cried.
He continued as she screamed into the couch pillow.
“Oh Kami, Vegeta, yes. Don’t stop. Please, just like that,” she could feel herself finishing, and she couldn’t shut up. All he had to do was stay right there. She turned her head back to see if he was as wrecked as she was.
His brows were furrowed, and he gripped the side of her ass, plowing into her. Shaking her with his hands and watching the ripples in her pale skin with every smack of his pelvis. The sound was glorious. In his eyes, she could see him losing himself to his own pleasure, but he was determined to make her finish.
And she did. Legs shaking and core dripping all over him, Bulma could feel herself tightening over him as his pace started to stutter. A few more strokes inside her to the hilt, and he stopped moving. She did, too. Once he started to pull out, she chased the sensation.
“I finished,” he said sheepishly.
He stepped from behind her and allowed her to stand. Once both of their clothes were in order, they locked eyes. Vegeta pulled her down for another passionate lip lock. She let herself get lost in the feeling of his lips. She was sure she’d get lightheaded. He pecked her on the lips one last time and again on her forehead.
“You have a good day,” he murmured softly enough for her to hear.
With another smile, Bulma slid on her shoes and made her way to the door.
“You too, babe,” she called over her shoulder. She’d definitely need a smoke now.