Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Closer ❯ Unthinkable ( Chapter 21 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Vegeta-Sugar-Sweet 
Vegeta is dealing the best way he knows how and his grief opens him up to attack
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 05.27.2011 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 592 | Status: Work In Progress
Vegeta is dealing the best way he knows how and his grief opens him up to attack
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 05.27.2011 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 592 | Status: Work In Progress
Do not own…sorry for the wait but I wanted to get this right.
For three agonizing days, pain had been the only reminder that he was alive. Sweat screamed over his heated skin continuously, dehydrating his already tired body. Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, slayer of countless beings, could not rest..not until his mate was found. She was stolen from him at the most opportune time, whilst he was investigating the death of his father. He sent Kakkarot in search of any leads on Bulma’s whereabouts but nothing has been revealed. That knowledge alone was tearing his soul apart.
Only once had he left the Gravitational Unit, and that was to attend the fallen King’s funeral pyre. All of Vegeta-sei turned out to honor the Saiyan who had brought them to a better place in the universe. Educating, training, and protecting them all as if he were the father of millions. ‘Bulma would have thought that to be true’ Vegeta thought.
He was gearing up for another round of torture on Master level, when his attention was drawn to a figure in the window. It was Turles and he was trying his best to catch the Prince’s eye. Wearily, Vegeta stumbled over and hit the button to open the door.
“What is it?” he growled.
Turles, looking so much like Bardock minus the scar, kneeled in front of the tired Prince.
“Forgive me, Highness, but you must eat. I…”
“Do not presume to tell me what to do!” Vegeta thundered. He was so touchy and moody anything could set him off…even food.
Holding up is hands to try to calm the surly Saiyan, Turles tried to plead with him. “Please Prince Vegeta. The people – and counsel – worry for your health. They fear you will not care for yourself and die due to the tragedy with the King. There is a call for a Viceroy to care for the kingdom until you are well.”
Vegeta snorted and rolled his eyes. Those fucking bastards! They think they can take MY throne after I have lost my Onna and my father? They think I am that weak? Can I not be granted the time to grieve?’ Vegeta’s mind raged.
“No one will care, you fool! I am the Prince of the planet and have survived worse than a couple of hard days training. But be that as it may, I might as well eat. I will bathe and take my dinner here, understood?”
“Of course, Prince Vegeta” Turles answered.
Vegeta soothed his battered body with a hot slow shower. If only it were as easy to find a balm for his fractured spirit. A true, honest to goodness tear welled in his eye. It rolled down his chiseled features and fell upon his chest. He missed them, his father and his Bulma. But his people needed him and that had to take for precedence now.
He smoothed the top of his tight fitting, jet black AE suit. Checking his visage and noticed he was a bit pale but not too worse for wear, and still out of breath. The workouts and lack of nutrition was wearing on him, he could see. He nodded at his reflection and went to join his waiting dinner.
Vegeta was greeted by epicurean delights that nearly made his neglected stomach jump from his torso. Just short of salivating, he sat himself down to part in a meal to fill the emptiness inside. Vegeta ate like a Saiyan on a mission, devouring all sorts of roast beasts, vegetables, and deserts.
For a little while, he felt some semblance of joy. Finally, something felt good—until his Ki was interrupted. Grace, strode into the GU like she owned it. She stared at the Prince, licking her lips, and then sat, waiting to eat her morsel. Vegeta flicked his eyes over the intruder with disgust and revulsion.
“And you’re here because?” he spat.
With the smile of a Cheshire cat, Grace stroked her chemise and slipped her way over to her “supposed” man. “Well now that you mention it,” she breathed, “I am here for you, Highness.”
“What in nine hell’s makes you think I want you at all” Vegeta said with a smirk. He picked up a goblet and took a pull from his drink to clear his parched throat.
“Oh my Prince, I am sure I am wanted by you in the absolute worst way” Grace drawled matching his smirk with one of her own.
“Why would I want anyone that has been used more than any door fixture in the palace?” he chuckled. He liked being here messing with Grace, tuning her up, making her angry. He smiled…he started to feel good.
“Having a good time, Vegeta?”
“Most definitely. I find calling you a whore to your face most pleasing.” Vegeta was holding his sides, still feeling a slight ache from his workout, but giggling through it. He felt warm and happy—a nice change from the last couple of days.
Grace approached, and before he knew it, he was nose to nose with this strumpet many wanted him to marry. Grace reached her hand forward and stroked Vegeta’s face. He didn’t flinch—as per his normal reaction. Instead, he purred just a tiny bit.
“Vegeta, how I have waited for this moment” Grace whispered.
Vegeta began to rub his jaw over the fingertips of the woman in front of him. He couldn’t get enough of her touch. He leaned toward her, he wanted to kiss her terribly. Just as his lips were about to touch hers, she moved her head away.
‘Oh she wants to play coy?’ he thought playfully. Forgetting his meal, Vegeta stood up and began to move after Grace. She was walking just a step ahead of him, turning every now and again to beckon him forward. She was like a curious dream that he could not catch. Before he knew it, he was in front of his own quarters.
That’s right Vegeta, come to me’ Grace thought triumphantly. She was to finally have him and she could not have been happier.
Vegeta trapped her at the door between his hands. His breath was ragged sweat beginning to make an appearance on his brow.
“Woman, I loathe you but my blood cries out for your body.” Vegeta nipped along Grace’s neck earning a moan of desire.
“It is your Saiyan blood, my Prince. You require the satisfaction only one of your kind can give” Grace cooed as she wrapped her arms around Vegeta’s neck.
He gave into the embrace. Tracing his lips over Grace’s jaw line, he reached her lips. In his mind somewhere he knew this was wrong, but he was compelled forward. The kiss was hungry and erratic. There was a need in his heart that he was trying to fill with this motion. He was searching out the answer to the fire burning in his loins. Grace was living her most cherished dream but she had to stick to the plan.
Grace opened the door so they could have some privacy. Upon the door’s closure Vegeta lifted her so she could wrap her legs around him and grant some comfort to his desire. As soon as she was secured in his arms, she kissed him fiercely. The contact was so animalistic; Vegeta became lost in the act, his most base instincts taking over.
While her soon to be paramour was occupied Grace kept her head. She slipped her hand into her hair and revealed a sharp object. With a sweeping arc, she stabbed the Prince in the back and pushed the plunger.
At first he didn’t seem affected, he was lost in bodily lust, but then his eyes opened, and he felt a change. He then realized what happened. Vegeta was stunned. He stumbled angrily, reaching for Grace while she quickly backed away in fear. The effect swept over the confused Prince. Confusion made a quick turn to anger as he tried to summon his titanic strength only to be presented with nothing. Something like fear flashed through his mind. Vegeta frantically looked about the room as his body shut down. The feeling in his extremities was almost nonexistent. He tried to step forward with all his might with no avail. Vegeta fell to his knees and slumped over to the left like a sad sack of vegetation.
Grace nearly jumped for joy as the high and mighty Prince was now as weak as a newborn babe with the added bonus of paralyzing her opponent. She strolled over to the prone monarch and looked him over.
“What is the matter with you, my Prince?” she simpered, “Can you not finish what you start?” He wanted to growl at the vile temptress that had poisoned him but even that action had deserted him. He wanted to kill this bitch for daring to place him in this position but his body was screaming for him to rest.
“Stop fighting it, Vegeta. Take it easy, I have you now.” His eyes grew red with rage. Again he tried to move but was unable to break the spell of the drug immobilizing him. Finally giving in, Vegeta closed his eyes and welcomed the sweet slumber that had beckoned him…
Skulking though the halls, keeping his Ki low, and keeping to shadows—Yamcha made his way through the palace. He had to make his way to the Prince cautiously and to make sure their meeting was private. His stomach roiled as he reminded himself again that it was his selfishness that brought this situation about. But no he had no time for this, he had to find Vegeta and confess all.
Yamcha had just about made it to the GU that Bulma had made. He almost sighed in relief even though this place would serve as the site where he would die. He had to do this for Bulma.
He had readied himself for the inevitable. Yamcha stepped toward the room when, with a speed unlike he had ever encountered, hands covered his eyes and mouth, nearly smothering him.
“Make one sound and you will beg for death.”
For three agonizing days, pain had been the only reminder that he was alive. Sweat screamed over his heated skin continuously, dehydrating his already tired body. Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, slayer of countless beings, could not rest..not until his mate was found. She was stolen from him at the most opportune time, whilst he was investigating the death of his father. He sent Kakkarot in search of any leads on Bulma’s whereabouts but nothing has been revealed. That knowledge alone was tearing his soul apart.
Only once had he left the Gravitational Unit, and that was to attend the fallen King’s funeral pyre. All of Vegeta-sei turned out to honor the Saiyan who had brought them to a better place in the universe. Educating, training, and protecting them all as if he were the father of millions. ‘Bulma would have thought that to be true’ Vegeta thought.
He was gearing up for another round of torture on Master level, when his attention was drawn to a figure in the window. It was Turles and he was trying his best to catch the Prince’s eye. Wearily, Vegeta stumbled over and hit the button to open the door.
“What is it?” he growled.
Turles, looking so much like Bardock minus the scar, kneeled in front of the tired Prince.
“Forgive me, Highness, but you must eat. I…”
“Do not presume to tell me what to do!” Vegeta thundered. He was so touchy and moody anything could set him off…even food.
Holding up is hands to try to calm the surly Saiyan, Turles tried to plead with him. “Please Prince Vegeta. The people – and counsel – worry for your health. They fear you will not care for yourself and die due to the tragedy with the King. There is a call for a Viceroy to care for the kingdom until you are well.”
Vegeta snorted and rolled his eyes. Those fucking bastards! They think they can take MY throne after I have lost my Onna and my father? They think I am that weak? Can I not be granted the time to grieve?’ Vegeta’s mind raged.
“No one will care, you fool! I am the Prince of the planet and have survived worse than a couple of hard days training. But be that as it may, I might as well eat. I will bathe and take my dinner here, understood?”
“Of course, Prince Vegeta” Turles answered.
Vegeta soothed his battered body with a hot slow shower. If only it were as easy to find a balm for his fractured spirit. A true, honest to goodness tear welled in his eye. It rolled down his chiseled features and fell upon his chest. He missed them, his father and his Bulma. But his people needed him and that had to take for precedence now.
He smoothed the top of his tight fitting, jet black AE suit. Checking his visage and noticed he was a bit pale but not too worse for wear, and still out of breath. The workouts and lack of nutrition was wearing on him, he could see. He nodded at his reflection and went to join his waiting dinner.
Vegeta was greeted by epicurean delights that nearly made his neglected stomach jump from his torso. Just short of salivating, he sat himself down to part in a meal to fill the emptiness inside. Vegeta ate like a Saiyan on a mission, devouring all sorts of roast beasts, vegetables, and deserts.
For a little while, he felt some semblance of joy. Finally, something felt good—until his Ki was interrupted. Grace, strode into the GU like she owned it. She stared at the Prince, licking her lips, and then sat, waiting to eat her morsel. Vegeta flicked his eyes over the intruder with disgust and revulsion.
“And you’re here because?” he spat.
With the smile of a Cheshire cat, Grace stroked her chemise and slipped her way over to her “supposed” man. “Well now that you mention it,” she breathed, “I am here for you, Highness.”
“What in nine hell’s makes you think I want you at all” Vegeta said with a smirk. He picked up a goblet and took a pull from his drink to clear his parched throat.
“Oh my Prince, I am sure I am wanted by you in the absolute worst way” Grace drawled matching his smirk with one of her own.
“Why would I want anyone that has been used more than any door fixture in the palace?” he chuckled. He liked being here messing with Grace, tuning her up, making her angry. He smiled…he started to feel good.
“Having a good time, Vegeta?”
“Most definitely. I find calling you a whore to your face most pleasing.” Vegeta was holding his sides, still feeling a slight ache from his workout, but giggling through it. He felt warm and happy—a nice change from the last couple of days.
Grace approached, and before he knew it, he was nose to nose with this strumpet many wanted him to marry. Grace reached her hand forward and stroked Vegeta’s face. He didn’t flinch—as per his normal reaction. Instead, he purred just a tiny bit.
“Vegeta, how I have waited for this moment” Grace whispered.
Vegeta began to rub his jaw over the fingertips of the woman in front of him. He couldn’t get enough of her touch. He leaned toward her, he wanted to kiss her terribly. Just as his lips were about to touch hers, she moved her head away.
‘Oh she wants to play coy?’ he thought playfully. Forgetting his meal, Vegeta stood up and began to move after Grace. She was walking just a step ahead of him, turning every now and again to beckon him forward. She was like a curious dream that he could not catch. Before he knew it, he was in front of his own quarters.
That’s right Vegeta, come to me’ Grace thought triumphantly. She was to finally have him and she could not have been happier.
Vegeta trapped her at the door between his hands. His breath was ragged sweat beginning to make an appearance on his brow.
“Woman, I loathe you but my blood cries out for your body.” Vegeta nipped along Grace’s neck earning a moan of desire.
“It is your Saiyan blood, my Prince. You require the satisfaction only one of your kind can give” Grace cooed as she wrapped her arms around Vegeta’s neck.
He gave into the embrace. Tracing his lips over Grace’s jaw line, he reached her lips. In his mind somewhere he knew this was wrong, but he was compelled forward. The kiss was hungry and erratic. There was a need in his heart that he was trying to fill with this motion. He was searching out the answer to the fire burning in his loins. Grace was living her most cherished dream but she had to stick to the plan.
Grace opened the door so they could have some privacy. Upon the door’s closure Vegeta lifted her so she could wrap her legs around him and grant some comfort to his desire. As soon as she was secured in his arms, she kissed him fiercely. The contact was so animalistic; Vegeta became lost in the act, his most base instincts taking over.
While her soon to be paramour was occupied Grace kept her head. She slipped her hand into her hair and revealed a sharp object. With a sweeping arc, she stabbed the Prince in the back and pushed the plunger.
At first he didn’t seem affected, he was lost in bodily lust, but then his eyes opened, and he felt a change. He then realized what happened. Vegeta was stunned. He stumbled angrily, reaching for Grace while she quickly backed away in fear. The effect swept over the confused Prince. Confusion made a quick turn to anger as he tried to summon his titanic strength only to be presented with nothing. Something like fear flashed through his mind. Vegeta frantically looked about the room as his body shut down. The feeling in his extremities was almost nonexistent. He tried to step forward with all his might with no avail. Vegeta fell to his knees and slumped over to the left like a sad sack of vegetation.
Grace nearly jumped for joy as the high and mighty Prince was now as weak as a newborn babe with the added bonus of paralyzing her opponent. She strolled over to the prone monarch and looked him over.
“What is the matter with you, my Prince?” she simpered, “Can you not finish what you start?” He wanted to growl at the vile temptress that had poisoned him but even that action had deserted him. He wanted to kill this bitch for daring to place him in this position but his body was screaming for him to rest.
“Stop fighting it, Vegeta. Take it easy, I have you now.” His eyes grew red with rage. Again he tried to move but was unable to break the spell of the drug immobilizing him. Finally giving in, Vegeta closed his eyes and welcomed the sweet slumber that had beckoned him…
Skulking though the halls, keeping his Ki low, and keeping to shadows—Yamcha made his way through the palace. He had to make his way to the Prince cautiously and to make sure their meeting was private. His stomach roiled as he reminded himself again that it was his selfishness that brought this situation about. But no he had no time for this, he had to find Vegeta and confess all.
Yamcha had just about made it to the GU that Bulma had made. He almost sighed in relief even though this place would serve as the site where he would die. He had to do this for Bulma.
He had readied himself for the inevitable. Yamcha stepped toward the room when, with a speed unlike he had ever encountered, hands covered his eyes and mouth, nearly smothering him.
“Make one sound and you will beg for death.”