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Bulma glares at Vegeta. He stands over her, arms crossed, sneering down his nose at her.
“I’m busy, Vegeta. I’m not dropping everything to go fix the gravity room for you. Again. That’s the second time this week that you’ve broken it. Now move!” She tries to lean around him so she can get back to her movie. It was no good, she can’t see around his bulk.
Vegeta snorts. “If this is how you define busy then it’s no wonder you can’t make a repair that lasts more than a few days. The sooner you fix it, the sooner you can get back to… whatever this is.” He eyes the pile of blankets, chocolates, and the hot water bottle that Bulma was currently cuddling on the couch.
“I’m not moving,” she huffs, squirming deeper into her nest.
“Funny, neither am I.”
Bulma’s scowl deepens, but Vegeta doesn’t budge; the only move he makes is to narrow his eyes. Several seconds pass before she lets out an irritated groan. “Fine!” She yells as she throws back the blankets. “But this better be the last time you bother me!” Vegeta scoffs, but takes a step back to allow her to stand up.
Bulma stomps off to her bedroom to put on her coveralls, grumbling to herself the whole way. She really isn’t in the mood for this. Her period just started and she is achy, tired, and irritable. All she wants is to do is to eat sweets and curl up on the couch to watch movies. But she knows that the Prince of All Assholes, the most stubborn and selfish man she’s met, won’t let her get any peace.
A few minutes later, Bulma walks into the gravity chamber, tool bag in hand. Vegeta is pacing along the far wall, grumbling to himself.
“And what exactly is the damage this time?” She jeers as she drops to her knees and pops open the access panel on the console. She is greeted by a shower of sparks and smoke. She groans.
“You’re supposed to be the engineer here,” he snarls as he walks over. “I fight, you fix.”
She sighs. “Well Mr. Muscles-For-Brains, it would help me fix if I knew what happened…” She puts on a headlamp and pulls out a few tools from her bag.
“Hmph.” He stalks off again.
“What settings were you using?”
“Gravity was at 325.”
“Duration?”
He pauses. “6 hours.”
“Hmmm…” she rummages around for a few seconds, taking stock of the damaged components. “It looks like the cooling unit failed… Damn, the motherboard has a short. How did this even happen...?” Vegeta returns to stand behind her, peering over her shoulder.
“How long?”
“To fix this? I’m gonna need to order a new cooling system and repair this motherboard. A delicate process that requires time. And silence,” she says as she shoots him an icy look. She stands up, pulling off the headlamp to wipe the sweat off her brow. It’s hot in the gravity chamber. Why is it so hot?
“How long?”
She shrugs, dropping her tools back in her bag. “Four days. Maybe three if you don’t ride my ass the whole time.”
Vegeta suddenly moves. In an instant, his foot slips between hers and pushes one leg out to the side, forcing her feet wide, while grabbing her hips roughly with both hands and pressing them back into his. She yelps as she loses her balance and falls forward over the console. “And here I thought you liked it when I ride your ass,” he growls, thrusting into her for emphasis. She can feel that he’s already hardening behind her. A spark of lust flares in Bulma’s abdomen but she pushes the thought down. While her own desire was always heightened during these few days, she knew to temper those feelings.
“Vegeta…” she turns to look over her shoulder, voice dripping with disdain. She rights herself with some effort. “Not today. I’m on my period.”
“And?” He refuses to loosen his grip when she tries to step away. Instead he leans forward to graze his chest along her back.
“And,” she huffs and puts her hands on his and tries ineffectually to move them, “I’m bleeding. From my vagina.”
“I’m aware,” She can hear the smirk in his voice as he grazes his mouth along her shoulder. One hand moves from her hip, firmly and slowly traveling up her torso. “You smell like a warrior.” He pauses to take a deep inhale at the crook of her neck, then moves his lips to hover over her ear. He whispers huskily, “It’s intoxicating….” Then he licks along the back of her ear before catching her earlobe gently in his teeth. Simultaneously, his hand finds her breast and gives it a determined squeeze, pulling her torso back to press firmly against him. She can feel the rumble in his chest.
Bulma lets out an involuntary gasp at the sensations. Her breasts are tender, but the pressure feels good. And his heat against her ear, her back, is thrilling. The spark in her abdomen returns, stronger and brighter this time. She feels her resolve weakening. “But…” she whimpers, still confused.
He chuckles. “Did you really think that a Saiyan warrior would be put off by a little blood?” His mouth returns to her neck and he nips lightly on her skin before gently suckling. His second hand trails up to find the zipper of her coveralls and pulls it down gradually, while the first firmly massages her breast. She squirms, and his mouth is on her ear again.
“Submit, Bulma…” he breathes hotly. “Let me taste you.” Her eyes flutter shut when he whispers her name. So rarely does he use it, and only in sexual contexts, that hearing him say it induces a Pavlovian response in her body. The spark of desire bursts to a raging flame as heat blooms throughout her torso and her cheeks flush. His hand slips down the front of her coveralls and under her underwear. She has a brief moment to wonder when he took his gloves off before his fingers find her clit and all thoughts disappear. Her gasp turns into a soft moan and her head rolls back against his shoulder.
“That’s right,” he chuckles. His fingers work in slow circles around her bundle of nerves and another moan escapes her, this one more assured. She’s always so much more sensitive during her period and it’s clear he’s noticed. He’s grinding his hips up against her and his mouth is on her neck again, licking, sucking, biting every inch he can reach.
Before long, her hips are rolling into his, into his fingers, and her breath quickens. Her hand slides up to find the back of his head and she turns hers to face him. He smirks as he leans to kiss her hungrily. His other hand slips under her coveralls and undershirt to palm her breast skin to skin. He squeezes her nipple between his fingers, making her back arch. Her fist balls in his hair and she groans. Soon she is panting into his mouth and her limbs start to shake. A keening moan falls from her as her climax flows over her body.
They pull back from the kiss, both breathing heavily. Vegeta slowly pulls his hand out from her underwear. Bulma freezes in horror as she spies the red on the tips of his fingers. Oh no…she thinks to herself, her face becoming even more red as embarrassment begins to crush her. Vegeta’s breath hitches and she tenses, barely daring to glance at his face.
Bulma’s fear melts away as he brings his fingers to his lips. He languidly licks the tips of his fingers, groaning lightly. His eyes are half lidded but there is a wildness in them. Lust. Hunger. Pleasure. She stares at him in amazement. He catches her gaze and grins wolfishly as he finishes cleaning his fingers.
“Take off your clothes.” He commands huskily, finally releasing his grip on her.
“Here? Now?” Bulma squeaks in surprise as she looks around. The gravity chamber hardly seems like a good venue for sex. It’s all hard edges and cold metal floors. At the same time, she considers, the cleaning bots would take care of any mess… Better that than her Egyptian Cotton sheets. Vegeta grips her shoulders and spins her to face him.
“Here. Now. Take it off or I’ll rip it off. Your choice.” She catches the wild look in his eyes again, notices his rapid breathing, and nods. She shrugs off her coveralls and kicks them aside, followed quickly by her undershirt. She glances back at Vegeta before hooking her thumbs in her underwear and shimmying out of them, allowing those to to fall to the floor.
Vegeta involuntarily sniffs as she finishes undressing. His pupils dilate, a slightly deeper black in his onyx gaze. Bulma swallows. She feels nervous, still trying to wrap her head around this whole situation, and she looks to him uncertainly.
He smirks at her. “Lie down.”
She slowly lowers herself to the ground and lies back. Vegeta kicks off his boots and takes off his shirt before kneeling down over her. He pauses for a moment, considering her, and then reaches for her coveralls. He folds them roughly and tucks them underneath her head, earning a soft smile from Bulma. Then his mouth is crushing hers again in a rough, ravenous kiss. There’s the faintest taste of her blood in his mouth and it causes her to shiver. She can feel his heat and hardness rub against her through the soft fabric of his training pants as he grinds desperately above her. She groans from the contact and arches up her hips to increase the pressure.
A few seconds later, he’s trailing down her torso. His hands map out the path that his lips and tongue follow, over her collarbone and down her breast, where he pauses to take a nipple in between his teeth for a gentle but firm tug that causes her to whimper. Then he proceeds onward down her stomach and over her hips. As he gets closer to his goal, Bulma notices his breathing changing, becoming sharper and deeper.
When Vegeta finally settles between her legs, his cheeks are flushed and his lips parted in anticipation. Yet he pauses and cocks his head to the side. Bulma is about to ask him what’s wrong when she feels a tug. Her head falls back and she groans in embarrassment. How could she forget?
When she dares to look up at him again, Vegeta is considering the item dangling from his fingers with mild confusion.
“It’s… a tampon,” she offers. “A hygiene product people use during a period to soak up the blood.” Vegeta looks to her and nods curtly before throwing it unceremoniously to the side.
Bulma opens her mouth to chide him for it but instead a moan falls out as his mouth finds her sex. He places several long, firm laps up the length of her vulva, making sure to cover every inch, to explore every fold. Then he focuses on her clit, first giving some of the same firm licks before latching his mouth down. He sucks firmly on her clit and pulses his tongue against the sensitive bud until she’s squirming and mewling under his touch. She clenches her thighs around his head and tugs at his hair. She can feel him grin against her at the touch.
Then Vegeta slides his tongue lower. His hands wrap around her hips to give himself more leverage as his strong tongue pushes through her folds and into her opening. He devours her as if he was starving. Bulma hears his muffled moan. He rarely makes noises during sex, so to hear him lose his usual composure like this sends a trill of pleasure through her body. She arches her hips up into his face and is rewarded by another soft groan and his fingers clench the flesh of her hips. She grinds against him, feeling the waves start to crescendo through her body again.
“Vegeta, I…” she breaks into another pleading moan, and he gets the message. He returns his attention to her clit, running circles around it with his tongue, continuing as she crashes over the edge of her second orgasm. Her heels dig into his back and she yanks at his hair, trying to pull him even closer, which brings out a satisfied grunt from him.
As the aftershocks fade and Bulma collapses back onto the floor, Vegeta props himself up on his elbows, panting. Bulma is reminded of the wildlife photos she’s seen on lions feasting on a kill. His face is covered in her blood, his canines shine through parted lips, his eyes gleam with a feral intensity. He looks so dangerous, yet strangely beautiful. She finds his expression both alarming and arousing; it sends a shiver down her spine.
Vegeta shifts and removes his pants. He kneels between her legs and grips her hips, lifting them up to meet his. She hooks her knees on his shoulders. He looks down at her entrance again and slowly slides his cock along it, a ravenous grin on his face as he watches it slicken with her blood. She bucks her hips up against him and groans in frustration.
“Please, Vegeta…” His eyes snap to hers.
“Again.” He growls, fingers tightening their grip. Bulma smiles slyly up at him, knowing how he likes to hear her beg. She squirms for his benefit.
“Please… please fuck me, Vegeta.” His arrogant smirk returns, more wicked than ever with the blood stains. He indulges her as with one swift motion, he aligns himself and thrusts fully into her. Bulma moans at the contact and arches underneath him.
Vegeta sets a steady pace, his gaze fixed on where their bodies connect, watching himself slide in and out. His breathing is more shallow than normal, his expression dazed. Bulma too feels hazy watching the effect she’s having on him. But soon she grows impatient and tries to move against his rhythm to increase the speed.
“Faster, Vegeta, please,” she whines. He grunts and leans forward, curling her knees to her shoulders with her hips still lifted. As he shifts he increases the speed and depth of his thrusts. Bulma groans in appreciation. His pace is faster than normal, rougher and more forceful, but the extra slickness provided by her blood shields Bulma from discomfort. She reaches up and digs her nails deeply into his shoulders, dragging down his back. He rewards her with a hearty growl and a firm nip on her collarbone.
Shortly, Bulma feels a trickle sliding down her abdomen and she glances down. Due to the angle and the pace of his thrusts, blood was sliding up her body. Vegeta follows her gaze and his breath catches at the sight, though his hips don’t falter. He watches the bead flow for a moment but as it reaches her midriff, he shifts so he can run his hand up her torso. He smears the blood up to her breast as he palms it, squeezing it roughly.
Bulma is getting close again, and by the look on his face she can tell Vegeta is too. She starts to creep her hand down her hips to help push herself over the edge but he grabs it with a disapproving growl, pushing it away. Preferring to do it himself, his thumb finds her clit and massages the tender bud in tandem with the rhythm of his hips. Bulma’s eyes roll back and she lets out a long moan, fingers digging into his back yet again. As her pleasure peaks, she cries out and spasms with the release. A few seconds later, Vegeta pulls out and finishes, his seed falling on her stomach and chest. Then he falls beside her, panting.
Once she catches her breath, Bulma looks down and laughs. “That’s a bit different for you.”
He grunts, then traces his fingers up her body. “You’re covered in sweat, blood, and cum. You look like the spoils of war.” He looks her in the eye and smirks. “Like victory.”
She grins at him wryly. “And would you have claimed me as your prize?” He purrs an affirmative and leans in to kiss along her neck. She giggles and twines her fingers in his hair.
As the post coital glow fades, Bulma begins to feel uncomfortable. She’s very sticky now and still feels quite hot. She starts to gather her clothes. “I’m going to go take a shower and then get back to my movie.” She gives him a sidelong glance as she dresses. “You’re welcome to do the same, if you’d like. I won’t be able to get started on the repairs until tomorrow anyway…”
Vegeta considers her, but doesn’t reply. He follows her lead and gets dressed. Bulma looks to him as he does. He’s a complete mess, but she supposes he often looks a wreck when exiting the gravity chamber. She hopes she doesn’t look half as dreadful as he does, and that she can escape any prying eyes on her way back to the house.
Once they’re both dressed they move towards the exit. As they near the door, a setting on a wall panel catches Bulma’s eye.
“Vegeta… why is the temperature set to 95 degrees?”
“It’s the highest it would go.”
Bulma felt a pulse in her forehead. “And why do you have it set to the maximum temperature?”
“Endurance training. Extreme conditions push my body further.”
“You IDIOT.” She yells at him. “How many times do I have to tell you not to overtax the system? It’s no wonder that the cooling system blew, when you were intentionally making it as hot as can be in here… I swear you invent new ways to blow this thing up on purpose!”
He crosses his arms and smirks at her. “I’m driving it and myself to perfection. Now you know the flaw and can design a better machine. Unless you’re not up to the challenge…” He walks past her and out the door, and she howls in frustration. He chuckles to himself as she storms up next to him, hot in her tirade. She yells at him about the mechanics of thermodynamics, the physics of gravity manipulation, and how the two compound the complexity of the computer mainframe necessary for his miracle of science play room. She only stops when she reaches her bedroom door, deciding to rush in and slam the door in case he has any ideas about joining her in the shower.
Bulma takes a colder shower than normal to cool off, both from the heat of the gravity chamber and her anger at his lack of consideration for her invention. She sighs, knowing he will never stop pushing himself or the machine. And so she allows herself to start brainstorming ways that she can make the system even more heat resistant so he could take himself further. She needs to help him do whatever it takes to reach his full potential, to defeat the androids, to save the world.
Bulma steps out of the shower and gets dressed in comfortable pajamas again. She makes her way back to the couch and settles back into her blankets and her movie. She’s surprised when in a few minutes, Vegeta sits down on the opposite corner of the couch. She looks at him for several moments, but he keeps his gaze on the screen. She softly smiles to herself and summarizes the plot of the film so far. Vegeta gives her a small nod. A moment later, he glances at her out of the corner of his eye. Bulma throws a pillow at him, which he dodges easily, but he doesn’t resist as she moves over to curl up at his side. He even allows her to drape his arm around her, now fully a part of her nest.