Authoress' Note: This morning, I found a challenge in my inbox that lit a fire within me; however, as I started plotting this on the computer, I had no choice but to prepare to head to work.

As I waited patiently for the bus, the siren's call to write grew stronger—I dictated the next words in my mind to pass the time. I had to fight the urge to drag out the small tablet and pen from my pockets and start jotting down this shameless sniplet's next lines. At least I held out until I was on the bus on my way to work, and by that point, I was silently etching out the words on the tablet with abandon until I reached the end of that single page.

Once again, I would like to thank @Espeon804 for giving me an interesting challenge that literally made me decide to include pictures of these brief writings that I had to jot down.

This starts right about where Bulma gets treed by Raditz.

No! Don't get the wrong idea here!

I'm not saying... gah!

Just read on you perverts!

Warrior's Instinct

One-Shot

Bulma was breathing hard as she stared up at the man that had pinned her against the rough bark of a tree. This was the same man that had convinced Goku, one of her oldest friends, that he was one of these aliens, and for an odd reason, he fascinated her. The humanistic-like man's muscles seemed well-toned, and the gentle touch of his pectorals made her wonder what he had planned now that she was at his absolute mercy.

Raditz stared down at the human almost though she were made of glass. The idea that she would go about psychological warfare just to get her way seemed to be working. However, he realized that he too could use this to his advantage, even while she touched him with a soft, innocent caress that felt like she was merely tickling him.

"Why is it that you humans try to play with fire?" Raditz questioned, staring into the baby blue eyes quizzically. "Do you often times like the way it burns?"

His hands roamed her body as he felt the curves and unnatural softness he was unfamiliar with.

Softness—unbecoming of what a warrior should feel—was pressed against him. A warrior hardened by battle was being spoiled by such delicate hands that threaded through his ebony locks. Rather than inflict pain, she invoked a jolt of pleasure that made his tail curl around her waist, drawing her closer to him. Her scent left him light-headed and yet, she had suddenly seemed to become his whole world.

"S-something like that," Bulma stuttered slightly, her body arching into his as he softly explored. The intense look in his eyes made her feel weak, so weak that she was falling under whatever spell he was weaving with just a mere touch. And the scary part was she was unable to resist the magnetism he seemed to radiate in such measures.

"Every time we meet, you walk away..." Raditz pondered out loud, the woman before him an enigma. They had run into each other time and time again, and while every instinct in him rallied to kill this bewitching human, she managed to worm her way through his defenses and escape, taking some of his pride with it.

An internal war raged inside the man-like beast—a war of mind and body. The warrior's intellect whispered warnings to kill the woman before him—that she was the enemy. And yet, his instincts roared fiercely--telling him to give into the carnal sins by claiming her—ravaging the woman and surrendering to the unknown. It was a war he was unfamiliar with, a war he could not afford to lose.

"It's funny," Raditz continued, his hands mapping the small of her back and memorizing the shape of her tiny figure. "There are many a time I wanted to kill you, and yet, you cunningly manage to escape my grasp..."

"Maybe you're losing touch of your warrior instincts," Bulma teased, grinning as she drew closer to Raditz like a moth to a flame.

He fought the urge to divest the woman of every stitch of her clothing. Steel resolve faltered however due to the pursing of her rosy red lips (which he could not discern due to his color blindness), the shallowness of her breaths tickling his skin, and increasing the heat building between them. His blood boiled at her icy stare—a silent challenge issued for him to do his worst.

"No, I haven't lost touch of my instincts," Raditz denied—denied mainly because he still was capable of killing humans; however, he could not, would not bring himself to kill her for some odd reason. There was something about this human that brought him to his knees—that kept him from trying to kill her, and it was a terrible habit.

A terrible habit he was entertaining the longer he stayed here with Bulma.

It was becoming harder for the low-class Saiyan to continue to fight the urge to consume her. The scent she emitted was intoxicating to the point that Raditz never wanted to let her go. If Bulma did not walk away, he knew that he would cave.

Breaking away from her, everything inside of Raditz protested against this movement as he backed away several inches. His breathing was ragged, and Bulma was staring at him with a longing expression. While he hungered for her, he was barely restraining what sense of reasoning he had left. If he caved, he would be no better than Kakarot; however, there would be no way he would be able to allow her to run to another's arms. The beast within snarled—pride be damned—to ravage her, to surrender to the young, fertile flesh that awaited him.

"You... you need to leave," Raditz half-growled, half-snarled. He barely had any semblance of control left, and he was granting her one last chance to escape before he did anything he may later regret.

"What if I don't want to?" Bulma questioned seductively, her doe-like eyes fluttering as she closed the distance. His body was ramrod stiff from having to restrain himself, and yet, he was faltering because of this human woman's charms.

"Last chance, leave," Raditz barely managed to breathe out, his eyes clenching shut as his hands folded into fists at his side. He felt what control he had fraying each moment she refused, and if she stayed, neither of them was leaving unchanged by this experience that awaited them.

"I think I'll take my chances," Bulma stepped forward, rising to her tip-toes as her lips collided into his.

The second her lips crashed into his, every last modem of restraint crumbled into fragments. Raditz wrapped his arms around her as he lowered them to the ground, his lips leaving hers as she moaned with wanton lust. His lips peppered her neck as his hands roamed the curves without restraint—his instincts leading him forward.

That night, a human and warrior from the stars indulged in their carnal desires—neither caring about the consequences of their joining.

_______

When Raditz awoke hours later, he found himself sated, yet completely alone. Bulma had left, and for an odd reason, Raditz was not pleased.

Then again, he knew that if she had stayed, he would have never wanted to let her go.

So then why did it leave him longing for her?

'Damn this accursed planet for me giving into the weakness of her flesh...' Raditz silently cursed as he dressed. He knew that his presence by the others would be missed, and the last thing he wanted was for him to be questioned about his whereabouts.

He would need to shower once he returned to the base to avoid their questioning, especially since her scent clung to his skin. He did not want Turles of all people questioning him since he was the only brother to have fallen under the seduction of the inhabitants of this world.

Raditz was unaware of it, but soon, a child would appear in his life from the repercussions of his actions.

A child which would complicate matters between the rest of his kind, both human and Saiyan.

Fin

_______

Alright! That wasn't a bad little sniplet. Though I will admit that writing it left me almost tempted to write a lemon.

Thankfully, I fought against that urge just enough to give a nice little cut away before things got a little too heated for our troublemakers.

Anyway, here are the pictures I took in regard to this writing challenge:

I started composing this in my head at the bus stop, but I was so tempted to write it. As you can see, I made a few corrections when I started to wake up. By then, I was at work when I took this shot. (Don't know why it's turned on its side, and I tried uploading this twice; I give up.)

I wrote this on my way home. Yes, I misspelled faltered, but to be fair, I was permitting my muse to fly free by this point, so spelling kind of went out the window. I was still on the bus when I took this shot.

I did write one more part at the dentist's office waiting room, but I ended up rewording it a bit. I barely finished filling the page when I was called to the back for my check-up. Thankfully, I survived this time, but I will admit that I was so tense sitting in that chair. My shoulders ached in protest as I tried to relax to no avail.

And yes, I write in cursive. I will admit that I have tried to break this habit, but it's too deeply ingrained in my writing style.

Guess I have my mom to thank for that. XD